#THEE WALTZ FIC BABY

[areyoudreaminof]

Hover Corte

@elucienweekofficial Day 4: Courtiers

On her own self-imposed exile, Elain finds herself in the human lands to offer help to the Band of Exiles and try to make some progress with her estranged mate. Lucien, meanwhile, can’t quite find his footing with Elain. With the clock ticking, can they finally come to an understanding?

Tags: Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, The Waltz Fic, 8.3k words

Read on Ao3

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Elain

“Let’s try it one more time, I’ll count us off. Ready?” Elain asked as Jurian straightened himself and exhaled. 

“Ready.”

“One, two, three, and- “ Elain began to hum the simple tune as she stepped to the side. She could feel Jurian’s heavy hand begin to clam up at her waist, “Now back, and left, good make a box.” She directed as Jurian carefully led her through the steps. It was a painfully slow pace, but Elain was proud of the progress Jurian had been making. “Wonderful, now let’s finish with a twirl?” Elain asked as she began to back up, Jurian flourished her hands as Elain began to rotate her feet.

“Stir the pot now! Keep your shoulders back!” At the last moment, Jurian’s clammy fingers lost their grip as Elain spun clumsily around.

“Sorry.” he mumbled as he wiped his hands along his tunic.

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Elain laughed, “All the ladies will be wearing gloves and it will be so hot in the ballroom, you’ll be more worried about your armpits than your hands. I think that’s enough for today though,” she said pointed to the piano, “I’ll have you run through it with Vassa a few times tonight while I play along. But I think you’ve gotten the hang of it.” 

“I’d better have. I won’t be doing this again.” Jurian said as he slunk down onto the sofa. 

“You probably won’t, but it is a good skill to have,” Elain countered, “and you’ve been doing so well. Just one night, one ball, then you should be back to normal.”

Jurian nodded, tipping his head back, “I never thought those fancy dances would wear someone out so much. The thinking you must do, it’s ridiculous.” He blew a stray lock of hair back, while Elain sat down next to him.

Her new friends had found themselves in a more precarious situation since Elain arrived. Something was brewing, and the human lands would soon become collateral.  In a final act of desperation, Jurian and Vassa were to formally present themselves to society and ask for financial backing and political loyalty, at a very frivolous and unnecessary ball that would be taking place the next night. As Fae, Lucien was not welcome, and Elain less so; Graysen made sure to tell everyone in her former circle what she was now. Even if she had wanted to go, she knew she’d be killed on the spot. So, she had taken it upon herself to coach Jurian on the intricacies of society, including the waltz.

“I suppose you don’t have any requests for dinner tonight. I’m running out of ideas,” Elain huffed as she swapped her heeled dancing shoes for her worn down slippers.

“Chicken and potatoes?”

“No, we had two nights ago.”

“What about some apple pie then?"

"Your teeth will rot out of your head if you keep on with the sweets. Besides, I don't have enough apples for that right now.” Elain said, slouched down against the back of the sofa.

She stared at the soft blue of her linen dress clashing with the loud pink of the velvet couch. It was really such a hideous combination; she thought as she drew lines on the velvet. Turning her head, she tapped Jurian on the shoulder.

“You’ve worked hard on the dancing, I’m really proud of you.” She said earnestly. They had been practicing the waltz for nearly a week and had poured over countless lists of names of nobility and wealthy in the human lands. Jurian hadn’t been joking about the ridiculous amount of thinking that had to be done.

Jurian smiled back at her, flinging his arm around her shoulders, “It helps I have such a good instructor. Much better than the red heads, I think.” Elain snorted, “We brunettes have to stick together.” He teased.

“My hair is actually dark blonde, just how long was your eye a ring again? Are you sure it’s not blind?” she shot back as they both erupted into laughter.

Elain felt some relief wash over her. Despite the rocky start, she found herself laughing more frequently these days. Jurian had become her daytime friend and companion, since Vassa took to the skies and Lucien was off doing whatever he did in the Spring Court. Sometimes she went days without seeing Lucien and she wasn’t sure if relief was how she felt about it anymore.

Elain couldn’t have come to the manor at a more awkward time. Frustrated and lonely at the Night Court, she left the River House three months ago without saying goodbye, just a vague note on the dining room table. Her sisters had moved on without her, adjusting to their fae lives with a confidence she never could master. Then, that brief flirtation with Azriel was squashed as quickly as it began, if there was truly anything at all. Now, when she thought of him, any lingering affection had been replaced with souring pity and annoyance. Elain had nothing to lose by leaving, she figured. She assumed she’d be turned away at the door since Lucien could barely tolerate her, if his awkward and slimy guilt and discomfort slinking down towards her through the bond at solstice had been any indication, but there was no avoiding it anymore. In the middle of the night, she had shown up at the door of the manor house with a handwritten book of visions she’d been having the past year about the lake and Koschei. Three pairs of surprised eyes stared back at her as she held out her notebook to them and by some miracle, let her in.

The first two weeks were torture, as Elain and Lucien seemed to go out of their way to avoid each other, but Elain quickly found a friend in Vassa, who Elain could honestly say was a person she did not realize how badly she needed in her life. She reminded Elain of her sisters in a way, yet she eased into a sort of closeness with Vassa that she didn’t quite have with her Nesta or Feyre. Perhaps because Vassa didn’t expect anything from her, except honesty. Jurian had become an unexpected ally, a far cry from the cold and calculating man who watched her be tossed aside like a broken toy. He was a sweet man underneath that gruff exterior.

Despite her newfound friends, Elain found herself at a crossroads. She had not come down to the manor just because of her visions about Koschei. She came down for him. The visions of her estranged mate were getting clearer with the passing days. The whispers she heard and the dreams she had been having in the Night Court were becoming more solid, more tangible things. She could almost feel his touch, his kiss. She felt nearly every emotion of his down the bond. Elain had seen their future in bits and pieces, and she wanted it. It had terrified her at first, she wasn’t ready. But she had finally admitted to herself the thing she had spent nearly a year denying; she was already halfway in love with Lucien.

She just had no idea what to do about it. 

Slapping Jurian’s knee, Elain launched herself off the sofa, “Come on twinkle toes, help me scrounge up some food before our redheads get back.”

Lucien

Lucien watched the horizon as the sun sank behind the hill line. A halo of soft gold and pink stretched its long tendrils across the sky towards the east. 

The colors reminded him of her.

The same beautiful female that sat in the house behind him, a whisper of a gold thread tying them together. If he followed it, he knew she'd be in the kitchen, looking at the same sunset at the window on the opposite side of the house. Lucien could picture her soft, small hands cradling her face, resting on her elbows while she watched pink and gold melt into violet and indigo. He could almost see the longing look on her face, he only wished he knew what it was she longed for. It certainly wasn’t him.

Lucien could not say why he spent his days out of the manor now that Elain was here. He thought he wanted nothing more than a chance, her time perhaps. Yet, Elain  was guarded as ever towards him and he could not shake the discomfort and guilt that lingered in his bones. Elain eased around Jurian and Vassa, opening herself in a way that he never saw at the Night Court, what little he did see anyway. But around him, her smiles were awkward,  and her sentences sputtered. He could feel hard nerves down the bond when they had to speak if he felt anything at all. Lucien had perhaps accepted the inevitable: Elain was only here to help Vassa, and once she was done, she would return to the Night Court. Swallowing his disappointment, he turned to the north, watching the flame in the sky get closer.

The firebird landed before him, dipping her long wings beneath her as she swept up into her human form. Vassa looked back at him with a wide grin, taking his arm. 

“Welcome back!” she chirped, her lilting accent raising an octave, “The beast still bellowing around, or were you able to get rid of his ticks?”

Lucien barked out a laugh, his near daily nanny duties in Spring occupied most of his time. Tamlin wasn’t destroying anything anymore, but he wasn’t doing much else. Lucien dutifully reported to Rhysand, who mercifully stopped sending the Shadowsinger to collect his reports. Rhysand inquired after Elain a few times but hadn’t asked Lucien to bring her home. He wondered why, he knew Feyre and Nesta were livid about her departure. “Take care of her.” Rhys had told him sternly, making Lucien wonder just how much Rhysand really knew about the situation.

“Tamlin is fine. Sleeping most of the time, but no one has been poking around the borders. It’s too quiet.” Lucien mused as they headed back towards the manor. 

Vassa stopped in her tracks, “You think something is coming.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, and soon.” He admitted. Elain coming down to the manor with a volume of her visions scrawled in her elegant writing shocked them all, though they knew time was running out. Koschei was coming back for Vassa, and Beron would be ready for a coup. As they approached the large wooden door, Lucien could smell onions cooking. Vassa moaned with hunger and skipped to open the door. Lucien took a breath and stepped into the kitchen. 

Jurian was at the stove, stirring onions and mushrooms, while Elain pulled a loaf of bread out of the oven. Her curls escaped her kerchief, kissing the back of her neck and her cheeks were flushed over a small smile. Lucien’s heart clenched at the sight. An offering of food was an acceptance of the bond, but Elain did not cook it alone, and she had no intention of acceptance. He found his appetite disappear as he watched Elain hug Vassa. He crossed the kitchen to Jurian, who hadn’t taken his eyes off the simmering pan.

“Don’t overdo it. No one wants limp, slimy vegetables.”

Jurian rolled his eyes, “It’s called ‘caramelization’ princess, if you’d cook every now and then you’d know.”

“I only know how to eat. My soldiers do all my cooking, General.” Lucien replied as he swiped an onion from the pan and slurped it down.  

“Does that make me a lieutenant, then?” Elain said softly as Lucien froze, turning towards her as she smiled at him.

“If Jurian is the General of the kitchen, am I the lieutenant?” she asked again, Lucien swore he saw a glint of mischief in her eyes.

“No, you’re not…I didn’t mean any offense, my lady.” He stuttered pathetically.

“Oh, I’m sorry. That was a terrible joke.” She said as red began to creep up her neck.

“Elain, you’re the general of the kitchen. I’m more of the lieutenant around here.” Jurian said mercifully. Elain nodded as she took the bread out of the room. Vassa followed, but not before she scoffed at Lucien, still staring dumbly at the swinging door.

“She was flirting with you, dumbass.” Jurian hissed, as he thwacked Lucien upside the head with an apron.

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#elucien #elucienweek2023 #day 4 courtiers #THEE WALTZ FIC BABY #it's not what you think #it's also my first long fic