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busterswritehand · 1 month

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You're Timeless To Me

Roughly 180 years after the events of ACOSF, Lucien looks up to find that he is surrounded by strangers. Meanwhile, Nesta realizes she has stayed still while the world around her keeps moving. Misery loves company, but these two can hardly make small talk.

Part 4

Nesta's focus was wholly on the beet soup she sipped on. The pinkish tint matched the potted plants placed on the corners of the outdoor patio. The steps, clanking of metal on porcelain, and chatter from strangers passing by and dining in at the restaurant filled the air.

She looked up towards her companion. Lucien had seemingly been staring at her by the way he jerked his head away to look at the busy street. Nesta looked back down at her soup.

Something had been off since their walk from the racetrack. She felt awkward after, well, everything. The thrill of the race. The lost proximity in those last few moments. The way his hand brushed the loose strands of her hair. All of it made her head reel. She didn't know why. Nesta thought she had settled that spark of resentment she unfairly had towards him.

She looked back up to face him.

"About the other night," Nesta began. Lucien's attention shifted to her. "I'm not mad. Just so you know."

He raised a brow. "I didn't think you were."

"Good." They looked at each other for a moment,. Lucien looked confused. In all honesty, Nesta didn't know where she was going with this either. "I don't like small talk is all."

Lucien's eye flickered from confusion to surprise to amusement. She stiffened.

"What?" She grew defensive.

"Are you trying to apologize?"

"No." Nesta's cheeks began to heat up.

"You are!" His amusement grew into a wide smile. It bothered her. "I don't mind the silence."

"It's not about that," she cut him off. "I was unfairly angry with you."

"You already apologized."

"I didn't do a good job."

"Okay. I accept your apology." Lucien raised his hands as if to yield.

"Alright then." Nesta smiled, satisfied. Lucien carefully went back to sipping on his soup.

He was forgiving in a way that was rare for the inner circle. Of course, her relationships grew with them after the birth of her nephew. However, she always felt that they were never able to trust her with themselves, the night court, or with Feyre- not fully. It was refreshing, even if she was reluctant to admit it. Lucien reminded her of Gwen and Emerie.

"Did you rehearse that apology, too?" Lucien might be forgiving, but his goading certainly was not. Nesta opened her mouth to defend herself, but couldn't find any words. He choked a laugh. "You seriously rehearsed it?"

"I made a phone call," she snapped. "I wanted a second opinion."

"From who? Cassian?"

She paused for a moment before answering.

'Yes."

It wasn't true though, she had called Elain. Lucien might have recognized the lie for what it was, but he did not acknowledge it.

"I didn't think you knew how to work a telephone," he said.

"I prefer letters if you must know." Nesta straightened her back. "It was a gift from Cassian. Windhaven has a single telephone connecting the entire place to the outside world. It's ridiculous, but it's the fastest way to talk with him."

Lucien simply nodded. They sat in silence for a moment. She did not like thinking about it.

Nesta somewhat abruptly pushed her seat at the table. Pretending to ignore Lucien's watchful eye, she got up and began to walk away. He did not follow just yet. She paused and waited for him.

"Well come on. We don't have all day."

"Can I not relax after my meal?" Lucien didn't even turn to face her. He was planted in his seat, basking in the sun.

"You can, but then you'll also have the pleasure of walking up ten thousand stairs ."

"I'd rather starve altogether," Lucien said in a sarcastically chipper tone. He set some money aside as payment and caught up with her. "Where to next?"

"A wine and food tasting and then some light shopping to help with Starfall preparations."

"Are you trying to fatten me up?"

"Didn't you know? It's traditional to serve cooked fox for dinner."

The two shared a laugh as they walked down a winding street until they reached a wine market. Nesta led Lucien to the back of the market where a delightful spread of wines and hors d'oeuvres scattered the tasting area. The two sat down and began tasting food and drink pairings.

Lucien, Nesta found out, had a taste for dry wines and savory foods. She preferred sweets and dessert wines, however. They debated about what should make the list or be cut. At the end of the tasting, they had come up with a list that would satisfy anyone's unique palette. They also left a little more than a little tipsy, not that either was complaining.

They giggled and slightly stumbled to their next destination - a seamstress shop. Nesta still needed to pick up her dress for Starfall. Nesta set the box beside her as she gave money to the seamstress. Lucien tried to look in the box. Nesta slammed it shut before he could get a good look.

"You can wait a few days. It won't kill you."

"I might," he smirked. She rolled her eyes, suppressing a laugh.

"Like I said. Cooked fox." It was meant to be a warning, but neither of them was sober enough to take it seriously.

They walked out of the seamstress's store and headed down the road to a flower shop. They were in and out as fast as they could be, both eager to go to their last location and then relax. As soon as their arms were filled with bouquets of fresh flowers, the two were on their way to the River House. It was their last location of the day and just in time. The wine started to wear off and both were feeling a bit sluggish. The walk there was mostly left in silence, not due to awkwardness like before but rather social exhaustion.

Nesta glanced over at Lucien every now and then. There was a question she had been meaning to ask him. For some reason, however, it hid itself under her tongue. It was obvious Lucien was trying to ignore it, but there was a breaking point even for him.

"You're not going to apologize again, are you," he asked.

"No," she said. "I just had something I wanted to ask."

Nesta paused. Lucien's eyes darted to the side, his brows narrowing in confusion.

"And that would be?"

"The human territories." Nesta paused again, phrasing her question carefully. "You've lived there for nearly two centuries now, yes?"

"I do a lot of work there, sure, but I live right outside of it."

"Do you miss it?" Lucien teased.

She looked away. If Nesta could barely ask a simple question, she was completely unable to respond to Lucien's taunting. There was a short moment of silence as Nesta felt Lucien assessing her. He had no problem poking and prodding before, but this time he stayed silent.

"It's changed a lot." Lucien finally said. Nesta looked over at him. His eyes met hers for a moment. There was a glint of recognition before he looked away from her.

"Both technologically and socially," he continued, "Some humans are still hostile towards fae and faeries, but for the most part they've embraced magic as a whole - if only for their own progress."

Nesta nodded.

The remainder of their walk was quiet. Soon enough, they reached the front doors of her sister's home. Nesta gave a curt knock as she always did.

Feyre opened the doors, welcoming them in. Nesta walked past her, placing the flowers in her hand on a spare table.

"Thank you for sparing an errand boy," she said.

Lucien followed in behind her. Feyre whipped around towards Nesta.

"You were supposed to take him around town, not work him to death."

"Two birds one stone." Nesta shrugged. Feyre shot her a look.

"If that was work," Lucien said, breaking the light-hearted tension, "then I should have never left."

Feyre smiled.

"I got him to waste your money on horses," Nesta taunted. Lucien let out a laugh.

"That was supposed to be for lunch," Feyre chided.

"Oh, it did buy us lunch, and then some," Lucien said. "Though I think she may have made me pay for lunch either way."

The three laughed as they entered the foyer where Rhysand and Cassian stood. Nesta stopped in her tracks. Rhysand's eyes flickered over to the three of them. Cassian turned his head to follow his gaze. Nesta and Cassian locked eyes. They didn't approach each other, not yet.

"You weren't at the house," Cassian said. He eyed her up and down.

"I know," Nesta said, arms crossed. "I was busy."

As they both realized everyone's eyes were on them, Cassian walked over to Nesta. He gently planted his hands on her shoulders and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"You're late," she said.

Cassian smiled. "I missed you too."

It didn't take long for Cassian to usher Nesta out of the River House. Before she knew it, Nesta was in Cassian's arms as he flew through Velaris to their townhome. She still hated flying on some days, and this was one of them. It was a rushed flight, not a leisurely birdseye view.

Thankfully, it was over within a few minutes. He landed on their front doorstep. It took all of five seconds after they got through the doors before Cassian was all over her. His lips were on her neck, his hands hungrily searching her body. Nesta ran her hands through his hair as a welcome invitation.

They never made it to the bedroom, settling for the rug near the fireplace. Both of them were eager to fill the need that had been tugging from both ends of the bond for weeks. It was something that was entirely primal, so much so that their lips never met. Not once.

As soon as they had ripped each other's clothes off, Cassian was inside of her. It was rough and unforgiving. A constant game of tug of war, both craving that sweet completion in their own ways. It was a lack of synchronicity. No verbal or physical communication - only that carnal hunger.

When it was all said and done, they wasted no time getting their clothes back on. Nesta quickly threw on her blouse and then skirt, completely forgoing the rest of her ensemble. She turned to see Cassian digging around for his shirt. She found it tucked under the couch and gave it to him.

"Thanks," he said throwing the shirt in.

Cassian plopped down on the couch with arms splayed. Nesta sat beside him. She looked at him while his head tilted towards the ceiling and combed through his hair with her hands. They sat there for a moment.

"How's Windhaven," she asked. "I meant to call. It just got so frantic around here."

"It's fine. We got a fresh batch of recruits. Some of them seem promising" He looked towards her for a moment before speaking again. "The Valkyries miss you."

Nesta sighed, pulling her hand away from him. Cassian sat up in defense.

"What?"

"I'm not coming back, Cassian, no matter how many times you try to convince me." Nesta stood up, brushing off her skirt.

"I'm not doing anything." She tried to walk away, but Cassian grabbed her by the wrist. "Hey."

Nesta waited for his grip to ease before she faced him.

"And I'm not having this argument again."

Cassian threw his arms up.

"So you're allowed to change everything about our life, but I can't even talk about it?"

"Not if it's to accuse me of spiraling."

"That's not what I said. The Valkyries provided you with a sense of structure."

"And I can't create that on my own," she scoffed.

"Not when you always go back to gambling." Cassian stood up.

"Oh please," Nesta took a step away from him, "Morrigan is just as much of a fan of the race track as I am."

"At least Mor has a job."

She let out an unamused laugh. Nesta turned her back to him again, walking away.

"She isn't relying on anyone for money," he snapped.

Nesta paused.

"I make enough off my own investments. I don't rely on anyone." She made sure that the last word was pointed.

"Don't lie to me. I overheard your little conversation earlier."

Nesta turned back to Cassian, biting her tongue. He was in the subtlest of fighting stances. She knew she should be offended, but she was just tired.

"It was just a nice gesture for taking Lucien off her hands."

"Really?"

"Yes."

Nesta stepped towards him.

"But if you think that my habits are such an issue, then why don't you lock me up again."

Nesta stormed past him into their bedroom, slamming the door behind her. She didn't bother to wait for his reaction - she didn't need to. Knowing him so deeply and for so long, she knew it was a killing blow.

Hours passed, and Nesta lay awake in their bedroom. She couldn't sleep, not after that fight. The silence of the room was broken by Cassian creeping in.

Nesta kept her eyes on the wall. She listened to the movements as he got undressed. She felt the mattress compress as Cassian sat down on the bed.

"I was wrong," she said. "It was our home once." An olive branch.

Cassian paused for a moment. She waited for him to say something. Slowly, he nestled into bed and wrapped his arms around her. They lay there in the dark together.

The next morning, Nesta left early for the River House. Waking Rhysand and Feyre, she sat them down in their own foyer with a gift of pastries and tea.

She let the two take a moment to collect themselves, both still in their pajamas. To their credit, the couple was more tired than they were irritated.

"So what's this all about," Rhysand asked.

"A long time ago you offered me a position as an emissary," Nesta said "I'd like to take up the position formally."

Rhysand and Feyre looked at each other, not sure if this was a shared dream or real life.

"Human emissary," Rhysand corrected. Feyre nudged his knee with hers.

"What brought this on," Feyre asked.

'I'm bored," Nesta lied.

Truthfully, Cassian's concerns had stuck with her. She understood his concerns were a little irrational, but she did not want another thing working against them. For him, she would try to give her life some stability. Besides, she would not mind the free traveling.

Another shared glance.

"And you think you're skilled with people enough for this?" Rhys pried. They stared each other down.

"I can learn."

"From who?"

Nesta opened her mouth to reply, but she wasn't sure. She looked at them for a moment before blurting out, "Lucien."

Feyre blinked. "And Lucien has agreed to this?"

"He will."

Before Feyre could give a thoughtful response, Rhysand was out of his chair.

"If you can get Lucien to agree to teach you, then we can do a trial year." He helped Feyre to her feet. "Now if you will excuse us, my mate and I will be returning to bed."

Nesta watched them leave the room, a satisfied smile crossing her lips as she sipped her tea.

#lucien x nesta #lucnes #lucien vanserra #nesta archeron #acotar #acotar fanfiction #nesta acotar #lucien acotar #what on earth is going on in the house of commons (the nessian household)#you'retimelesstomeacotarfic

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busterswritehand · 9 days

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You're Timeless To Me

Part 5

"You want me to do what?" Lucien choked on his tea. He looked at the female sitting across the table from him.

Nesta stared him down unphased by his reaction. "I want you to teach me how to be a proper emissary." She cocked a brow. "Will that be too difficult for you?"

Lucien couldn't hide a small awkward smile creeping on his face. He looked around to at the other groups relaxing on the cafe patio.

"It would definitely be an undertaking," he said. Lucien shifted his focus back to Nesta. "You're not really a people's person."

"I know. That's why I need your help." Nesta spoke through gritted teeth.

Lucien stared at Nesta. He could tell she was choking on her swallowed pride.

He sipped on his tea, "Please."

"What?"

"I need your help, please."

Nesta stared at him. He could see that baffled frustration written on her face. She let out an exasperated sigh.

"I don't need all the reasons you've suddenly taken an interest in this," Lucien said. He had a few theories, none being that she had a genuine interest in politics, but it was obvious Nesta was not keen on sharing. He would not push her, he knew better. "Just a simple please will do."

"So you'll help me?"

"I'll consider it." Lucien hid his amusement for once. He should have known something was up when Feyre asked him to meet with Nesta - at her own request no less. "You have a whole day to convince me."

"Fine," Nesta said. "Tell me what would help you make a decision."

Lucien looked to the mountain lines that were mostly hidden by buildings. He drummed his fingers on the table.

"Have you ever been in one of those automobiles?" He turned to face her. Nesta's straight face was anything but amused.

"You can get into one of those death traps," she sneered. "I'll watch."

"Don't tell me you're scared." Lucien extended a hand toward her.

Nesta studied him.

"I'm not scared," she said simply. "I'm just not stupid."

"Come on, it'll be fun." Lucien watched Nesta as she hesitantly took his hand.

"You better know how to drive one of those things."

"Once or twice," he smiled slyly.

Nesta swatted his shoulder with her free hand. Lucien laughed. It was just too easy to tease her, and he suspected that she didn't mind it as much as she let on. Maybe it was the smile peaking out from her pursed lips when she huffed. Or maybe, it was the fact that she didn't let go of his hand.

"Are you going to take us there or not," Nesta demanded.

"Right away," Lucien said.

He wasted no time winnowing to the outskirts of town where he had spotted automobiles racing around a few nights prior. As he suspected, there was an automobile rental store nearby. Lucien lead the way.

"I'll let you pick the color." He nudged her with his elbow.

Nesta gave him a side eye and clicked her tongue. He looked at her, waiting for a reply. She craned her neck towards him.

"Are you serious," she asked.

Lucien nodded, humming. Nesta tilted her head and looked him up and down. Lucien did not have the slightest clue what she was thinking, but he was curious to know what was running through her mind. Nesta faced the building in front of them and straightened her back.

"Lavender," she said. "Good luck finding it."

Nesta took a seat on a bench outside of the building, leaving Lucien to go in alone. He should've known she wouldn't make it easy. Nevertheless, he accepted her challenge.

Lucien walked through the doors and was immediately greeted by a salesperson. The salesperson ushered Lucien around the giant building with all sorts of automobiles. Lucien took a liking to a newer model that lacked a roof. Although there were none in lavender, there was one in a unique shade that piqued his interest. He rented out the car for the afternoon to the delight of the dealer. Wasting no time, Lucien drove it to the front of the building.

"Yellow?" Nesta eyed the automobile in disgust as Lucien turned off the engine.

"Dandelion," Lucien replied, hopping out of the vehicle. "Some poor soul ordered a custom paint job and quickly regretted it."

"I can see why."

Lucien didn't need to look at Nesta to know she was watching him. He walked over to the passenger side and opened the door. Nesta slowly stood up, straightening her skirt.

"Let's get this over with." She walked past him into the vehicle.

He closed the passenger door and made his way back to the driver's side. He turned on the engine. From the corner of his eye, he saw Nesta gripping the door with her hand. Her harsh gaze met his.

"Don't kill us."

"I promise not to." He meant it for what it was worth

Lucien found the way automobiles were treated as a novelty here to be peculiar. For humans, it was an admirable form of travel. For fae, however, it was nothing more than a hobby - like painting or card games. It made sense, he supposed since most forms of human transportation could never compare to fae ability. In all fairness, he rarely drove in such vehicles himself. He did not need to.

The driving track weaved through the mountain cliffs. Trees occasionally provided a barrier between the cliffside and the road. He glanced over at Nesta whose tight updo was coming undone in the wind. She did not seem irritated though; the female was easing into her seat with her fingers dancing in the wind.

Looking back out at the road, Lucien caught a glimpse of an aerial view of Velaris. He had seen a similar angle from the House of Wind, but what he was witnessing now was far beyond it. He started to understand why Feyra had taken such a liking to flying. Although Lucien had been taken on flights by Feyra's friends, they were more like short, awkward landings. This was different.

The trail ended at the plateau of a cliff - a perfect lookout spot. Lucien rolled the automobile off of the path. He was barely done parking the vehicle when Nesta hopped out.

"Could you wait a moment," Lucien whipped his head around to chastise her. What he saw instead of an agitated female was Nesta making her way to the edge of the lookout.

He slowly approached her.

There was no tension in her shoulders, but they were weighed down.

"I didn't realize my driving was that bad." Lucien stood beside her,

"It's not that." Nesta didn't face him. Instead, she looked ahead. "The view just reminds me of -"

"The House of Wind," he finished her sentence. "I was thinking the same thing."

She smiled faintly, a huff of laughter escaping her lips. He could see the melancholic nostalgia in her eyes. He wondered why she moved out, but that's not the question he asked.

"Do you miss it?"

"In some ways, yes." She looked over at him. They studied each other. Like she could read his mind, Nesta replied. "I - We needed a change, Cassian and myself."

Lucien nodded.

"Your driving could use some work though."

"Noted," Lucien chuckled.

The two stood there looking out at the city in silence. When they could no longer stand up, they sat down. From the view, they could see the busy market streets, the towering buildings, and the rendezvous on the outskirts of the city. Lucien and Nesta broke the silence every so often pointing out small details that could only be noticed from their birdseyeview. It was a kind of peace he had not felt in a long time.

"I'll come up with a proposal for Feyre and Rhysand," Lucien said breaking that peace. "I'll talk to them before Starfall."

"Before you leave."

"Yeah," he nodded.

He didn't want to leave so soon, but this was not his home.

#lucien x nesta #nesta archeron #lucien vanserra #acotar fanfiction #lucnes #you'retimelesstomeacotarfic #lucien acotar #nesta acotar #acotar

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busterswritehand · 1 month

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You're Timeless To Me

Part 2

Nesta watched that copper-haired male with narrowed eyes. It was a week until Starfall - a week of enduring him when it should be Elain. Elain should be making small talk with Azriel, Gwyn, and Mor - not him.

He was supposed to have turned tail and fucked off when it was apparent Elain wanted nothing to do with him. Instead, he had lied to everyone. He lied to protect the mating bond between Elain and Tamlin, of all people. He lied - and she followed suit. They lied and then they both left. Her gaze steeled into fiery daggers as those thoughts festered in the front of her mind.

"Staring at me like that isn't going to make me drop dead."

Nesta blinked. Lucien was staring back at her - his eye flickered with an impish challenge.

She could feel her face begin to heat up, but Nesta simply huffed and stalked towards a table of appetizers. Wines, cheeses, fruits, meats, nuts, jams, and breads littered the table in an intricate display. She poured herself a glass of sweet red wine from the Spring Court, a present from her dear sister - an apology for not being able to make it.

She could hear the chattering pick up almost instantly, but it wasn't until a moment later that she felt eyes shift away from her. From her peripheral vision, she could see Feyre settle beside her.

"You could try to be cordial with him." Feyre picked around the spread, selecting bits of food and setting them on her plate.

Nesta did not respond. A mixture of pride and embarrassment. The thistles she tried so hard to trim always grew back eventually. A defense to protect herself and her sisters - not that they needed it. They were happy.

"It's not his fault," Feyre pressed.

Nesta knew that on some level. It did not change the fact that Feyre had slowly replaced Elain's presence with anyone but her. Usually, she could ignore it, but this was a slap in the face.

Feyre stared at Nesta, refusing to back down.

"Fine," Nesta sighed, "I'll try."

"Thank you," Feyre nodded graciously before approaching the small group.

Nesta watched from the sidelines as she always did, observing her sister's inner circle. It had grown to encompass her own friends, Gwyn and Emerie. It was not necessarily a bad thing, but it wasn't the same as when it was just the three of them. It wasn't hers anymore.

She watched as Amren trickled in, then Emerie, who greeted Mor with a loving kiss on the lips.

They all were like a confusing, elaborate puzzle, and she was a rigid piece that didn't fit.

"Cassian will be here tomorrow," Rhysand announced as he sauntered into the room. Nesta jumped slightly, not at his abrupt entrance, but at the mention of her mate's name.

She could feel that pair of eyes on her again.

"And Nyx?" Feyre reached out a hand to Rhysand. He took it, interlocking their fingers.

"Will be dragged here by his ankles if his uncle has anything to say about it," he sighed. "I swear that boy might as well have been birthed by an Ilyrian war camp."

A pleasant laughter swept through the group. Despite that laughter, Nesta still felt pinned down by prying eyes. When Nesta looked over, Gwyn and Emerie caught her attention. They waved her over. She shook off that gaze with icy steel and walked towards her friends.

The chattering lasted from appetizers well into dinner. It was too much chatter for Nesta's liking. She had always loathed small talk, and as usual, she was surrounded by it. One thing that stayed consistent was the constant blabbering about nothing at group dinners.

She would occasionally pitch in on the conversation at hand -whether for the sake of catching up or giving her opinion - but Nesta never said anything more than she needed to. She wasn't the only one though. Lucien only spoke when addressed directly, though he seemed engaged in the several conversations around him. Like he was trying to feel out of his place in the group. Not that Nesta particularly cared, but it was cathartic, in a way, to see someone else on the outskirts of the tight-knit group.

Soon dinner devolved into a rowdy house party, one last hoorah before Feyre and Rhysand had to be responsible parents again. It was a little much for Nesta who slipped outside for some peace and quiet. The night air was refreshing, and it would have been the perfect spot to relax if someone hadn't beaten her to it.

Lucien sat on one of the steps, peering at the city skyline against the mountains. He set his wine glass down beside him on the step. Gas lights reflected off of his red hair, making his silhouette glow. Nesta stepped back to try and bypass him, but Lucien had turned around before she could even set her foot down.

"Tired of the noise too?" Lucien patted the spot beside him as an invitation.

"I'm fine right here."

"Suit yourself," he shrugged before turning back to look at Velaris.

Feyre's words echoed in her mind. Try to be cordial. Nesta sucked in a breath and apprehensively took a seat beside the male. She set her wine glass beside his and looked out at the city with him. They sat there for a moment while she tried to find words.

"I'm sorry for earlier," she said stiffly.

"For the door-slamming or the threatening stares?"

Nesta whipped her head to see a smile creeping across Lucien's face. He was teasing her.

She held her breath as she replied, "Both."

He laughed. She bit her tongue.

"You've never hid your disdain for me, Nesta Archeron."

"I don't hate you," Nesta was stumbling over her words as Lucien raised a sarcastic brow. "I was protective over," He didn't seem convinced. She huffed, "Oh like you were ever that fond of me."

Nesta clenched her jaw in response to his smug grin. This was funny for him - like a fox that had caught a venomous serpent for entertainment. Her cheeks began to heat up. She grabbed her glass and threw back her wine. Except it was not her glass or the sweet red blend she had poured. It was bitter, earthy, like freshly tilled soil. She reflexively spit out the wine all over her skirt. That seemingly broke Lucien, who let out a hysterical cackle.

She pointed a finger at him and opened her mouth to hurl some insult at him. She stopped before a sound ever left her mouth. Lucien's head was thrown back with tears peaking out from the corner of his good eye. He was a far cry from the male that danced on eggshells around Elain for months on end. This side of Lucien was genuine. Nesta knew that she had gotten him all wrong, and it infuriated her.

"I'm going home," she stood up and began to walk down the front stairs.

"Come on. I thought we were having fun," Lucien teased.

"We were not," Nesta cut him off. She stomped down those last few steps.

"Nesta," he called after her. He made no real effort to chase her down or make her stay. Instead, he just kept being coy.

"Goodnight, Vanserra," Nesta warned.

And that was that. She was left to wander home alone in the silent night. His teasing laugh played again and again in her head.

#lucien x nesta #nesta archeron #lucien vanserra #acotar #acotar fanfiction #gwenriel #emorie #i do what i want with side ships #and lowkey the tamlin and elain mates theory eats #the drama alone #tamlin x elain #you'retimelesstomeacotarfic #lucnes

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busterswritehand · 1 month

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You're Timeless To Me

Part 1

Strangers. Lucien Vanserra was completely and utterly surrounded by strangers. He sat at the council table created by him and his friends. His family. A small band of exiles that dared to dream - to want more for themselves and others below the wall. He had always known that he would outlive them. Mourn them. That he would be responsible for keeping their memory alive. He never considered, however, that everything he had built with Jurian and Vassa would outgrow him.

Lucien looked around at a council of human nations and territories. Some leaders were human or half-fae, some represented monarchies or democracies, but they all ignored him. He led the first generation of leaders alongside his friends, the second generation revered him as a sage, but this lot treated him like an ancient relic. They often bickered over each other as they were doing now. If they weren't arguing, they were scheming and schmoozing. In that way, they reminded him of the courts above the wall.

He wasn't sure why or how it had not hit him sooner, but Lucien missed his home. Not the Autumn or Spring Court or even Velaris - but Prythian. He had not returned since Elain's wedding, where her viper of a sister nearly bit his head off. Lucien couldn't believe it, but in that moment he missed Nesta too.

He missed familiarity - some sense of stagnation. Humans changed quicker than the seasons and developed new technologies too fast for him to keep up these days. Hell, with more readily available access to magic the human territories started to see an industrial boom. Lucien hated the isolation and unfamiliarity that plagued his everyday life. Once again he was without a true home.

He fidgeted with the crisp paper in his hands, his thumbs stroking over the creases left by his back pocket.

Dear Lucien,

I hope the human territories have continued to treat you well. I apologize for not reaching out sooner or more frequently.

Starfall is coming up. Maybe you would consider visiting us back in Velaris. The Night Court misses its old emissary, and I miss my friend.

Best,

Feyra

Lucien smiled faintly at the letter before looking back up at the dysfunctional group in front of him. When had everything devolved so much? They swore like sailors and acted like petulant children.

He sighed. Maybe it was time to return to Prythian.

Lucien knocked on the door of Feyre and Rhysand's river house in Velaris. He stood at the front steps, shifting in his clothes. As he waited, he peered back over his shoulders to look at the town.

Velaris beamed with the same technologies that thrived in the human world. Factories were being constructed on the outskirts near the edge of the mountain valley. The wealthier citizens drove around in their brightly colored automobiles on the cliffside roads bordering the city. He watched as tints of blue, red, and purple flashed past and around the city. They were accompanied by shrill honks and deep revving of engines as fae raced by.

Lucien's attention was swiftly ripped away from the city by the front door swinging open. Nesta stood past the threshold, staring down at Lucien. He took a step on the next stair and opened his mouth to speak. The door slammed shut - inches from his nose.

Lucien blinked, utterly baffled. He knocked again.

"Nesta," he said, "could you let me in?"

Silence. He knocked again. Stubbornness and pride kept him planted on those steps. He'd wait there all night if he had to. After all, he was invited to be their guest.

With his fae hearing he could make out the sound of shuffling footsteps then two female voices bickering. He listened closer. A satisfied smile peeked out from Lucien. It sounded like Feyra was chastising Nesta.

Sure enough, Feyra opened the door a moment later. A strained smile plastered her face. Nesta stood behind her in the shadows, glaring at the two of them.

Feyra's expression softened as she pulled Lucien into a welcoming hug.

"Sorry about her," Feyra said.

Lucien chuckled, "It's good to see that she hasn't changed a bit."

He watched the sour female silently scoff and walk toward the sitting room. Feyra leaned back, planting firm friendly hands on his shoulders.

"It seems like you haven't either."

As they studied each other, Lucien realized she had cut her hair into a short bob. The front pieces of her hair were braided towards the back. He contorted his face into comical shock.

"Has empty nest syndrome gotten to you that badly?"

Feyra rolled her eyes, shoving him playfully.

"Can a lady not change her hair once in a while?"

They laughed as Feyre welcomed him into her home.

#acotar #nesta archeron #lucien vanserra #lucien x nesta #they're just two old people in love #sjm you were so wrong for letting us know they were the original otp #how dare you #it's all I can think about now #acotar fanfiction #you'retimelesstomeacotarfic #lucnes

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busterswritehand · 1 month

Text

You're Timeless To Me

Part 3

Footsteps echoed across the House of Wind. Exploring the house, Lucien noticed not much had changed besides the addition of Feyre's artwork and photographs of her family. Another nifty human invention. A way to capture the past as time escaped them.

Fashion had also changed a lot in the past century. Tunics had been swapped out for loose shirts, vests, and trousers. From what he could tell the Night Court still kept its own flair. Their more traditional silhouettes fused with the modern style Lucien had taken up wearing.

He looked in the mirror on the far side wall and fidgeted with his clothes. It almost made him look more out of place than he felt. He forgot how tentatively fae adjusted - mixing their own tradition with human modernity.

His focus shifted to one of the pictures hanging by the mirror. It was of Nyx with two other young Illyrians- who were all covered in mud and blood. The completion of his blood rite, if the memory of Feyre's letters served him correctly.

His brow furrowed in thought. The last time he had stepped foot in this place, the house had belonged to Nesta and Cassian. It seemed to have been converted into a guest house. Interesting.

There was a knock at the door. It only briefly surprised him. Feyre had said she would come to retrieve him in the morning.

Azriel had flown him to the house not too long after Nesta left. By that point, the party had died down inside. The mixed stares he received upon walking back in confirmed his suspicion that very few opinions of him had changed in the past century. Only Feyre, Gwyn, and Emerie had tried to keep the conversation flowing between them. Amren was just as indifferent as he remembered. Talking to Morrigan, Azriel, and Rhysand felt like walking on eggshells as it always had. They were either waiting for him to slip up or could barely acknowledge his existence. Cold. Unforgiving. Of course, it was nothing compared to the burning hole Nesta had stared into him for the whole night.

Another knock. Lucien shook his head; he had been lost in thought. He headed to the door and opened it to find Feyre. At least that's who he assumed it was. She wore a loose stone blue shirt with an ankle-length navy skirt. The fabric was light and multilayered, cinching at the waist with a ribbon-like belt. A floppy hat shaded her head and face - after a moment he realized that it was instead Nesta.

He looked past her.

"My sister," she said pointedly, "had a last-minute emergency that pulled her away. She sent me to entertain you."

She sounded just about as enthusiastic as he felt. Taunting her after a couple rude exchanges and a few bottles of wine was one thing. But to spend a day utterly sober and alone with her?

It took a moment before an all-too-obvious question hit him.

"How did you get up here?"

"I walked."

He huffed, amused by her dry sarcasm. She raised a brow. His expression changed to shock.

"Really?"

"No, not really," she snapped. "I'm disappointed in you, Vanserra."

She walked into the house. He watched her pass by him and spied Azriel a few steps below where she had stood. The shadow singer followed behind her, giving Lucien a cold glance over. Lucien barely noticed as his eyes stayed fixed in place. Nesta Archeron was joking. A rare sight for him. A smile tugged on his cheeks.

She took off her hat and placed it on the counter before walking over the adjacent wall. Her hair was in a downward crown of braids that wrapped around her head, secured in the front.

"Good morning." Nesta stroked one of the walls of the house like one would a pet cat. A light food spread scattered across the dining table. She gave the house a small, warm smile.

"Breakfast first," she turned to him, "then we go out."

If breakfast with Nesta and Azriel was awkward, then flying with the two was pure misery. No one looked or acknowledged each other much less talked. Lucien tried to not glance below them as the wind filled his ears. For a moment his eyes fell on Nesta who was trying to keep her skirt smoothed down with one hand and her hat planted on her head with the other. He decided that looking towards the ground was the safer option.

When they landed at the bottom of the steps, Azriel immediately disappeared into shadow without saying a word.

"You think they'd install one of those cage machines," Nesta grumbled, smoothing out her skirt.

"You meant an elevator?" Lucien turned to her.

"Right, one of those." She simply said as she started walking. Lucien had to jog half a step to catch up.

"Where are we going," he asked, falling in time with her.

"I have some errands to run," she replied. Lucien blinked. She glanced over and continued, "I'm not Feyre's servant. If she wants me to show you around, then you will tag along for the plans I already made."

He hadn't thought about that - not that he had time to. Was it normal for Feyre to haphazardly disrupt her sister's day like this?

"I'm sorry for interrupting your day." Lucien's reply might have had a slight bite but it was a sincere apology.

Nesta faced the path ahead again.

"It's fine I could use the company." She gave him a sly look. "I hope you like betting."

He returned it with a devilish smirk.

Nesta lead Lucien down the sidewalk through the heart of the city. It was a considerably hot day for the changing seasons. Winter was turning into spring. Flowers were in bloom and cafes began to open outdoor seating back up. It seemed like the perfect place to take a leisurely stroll, but Nesta was making a beeline for the outskirts of the city.

Lucien did not dare to ask any questions as to where they were going. It wasn't until they approached a set of buildings by a clearing that he realized where they were headed. He started walking towards the front doors when Nesta grabbed his wrist.

He looked over at her, puzzled. She pointed with her head toward the side of the property where a magnificent group of stables sat.

"A quick pit stop," she explained.

They rounded the building to a side door at the stables. A stable boy opened the door for them, welcoming Nesta with a nod. Lucien followed behind as they made their way to a brown horse with white spots around the face and hindquarters. The plaque beside the stable read "Lady Death".

"This is your horse," Lucien's question was more of a statement.

"I thought the name was clever." Nesta petted the horse along the face and mane. "She gives them a run for their money, literally."

"I didn't know you were an animal person." Lucien crossed his arms with a smug smile.

"I'm not." Nesta looked over to him, returning the look. "I just like to gamble."

His gaze softened. For a moment, he was reminded of Jurian and Vassa. The sly smiles exchanged. The sense of comfort and ease despite their sharp tounges and troublesome behavior. He missed them. Cauldron above, how he missed them.

Lucien's brief melancholia was interrupted as Nesta waved him towards the exit. He followed her out through another door that led to a betting cashier. She walked up to the counter where the cashier greeted her with a friendly hello. Nesta dropped a comfortable sum of money on the counter for her own horse. She turned to Lucien with a second sum. He looked at it hesitantly.

"Your pick," she urged

He looked over the stats of all the racehorses and picked a black stallion named High Lord. Lucien had a feeling that this horse could rival Nesta's own.

"I'm afraid I can't bet on your horse today."

She smirked, "It wouldn't be fun if you did."

An attendant rounded the corner. The faerie approached Nesta and gave her a quick kiss on both sides of her cheek. How often did she come here? The attendant led them up a few flights of stairs to a private box that overlooked the race track.

The race track was a lush green, and at the center, it contained a pond. The budding florals painted the back landscape of the track. No wonder she spent so much time here.

Lucien took a seat beside Nesta. They watched the horses and their racers prepare. The racers consisted of a myriad of faeries and fae, all different shades of the night sky itself.

"So High Lord," Lucien broke the silence, "did they name him after Rhysand because they bear a striking resemblance?"

"I heard they're practically twins," Nesta chuckled.

The ring of a bell interrupted their short conversation and with that, the horse race had begun. It didn't take long for an uproar to form from the crowd. Everyone cheered for the horse they staked their money on. Among the most vicious of them was Nesta. A fierce, competitive spirit erupted from her usually cold demeanor. Before he knew it, she was out of her seat, leaning on the railing, and hurling insults at the horse who threatened her prize.

Lucien looked over at the track to see High Lord and Lady Death were neck and neck. He jumped up in surprise, joining her at the railing. Together, they shouted in support of their own horses. Thrill raced through his body as the horses gained and lost ground to each other. For a moment, he was able to pry his eyes away from the track. Nesta was beaming beside him. She radiated delight and vigor, even as she was hollering like a war general.

As she leaned further off the railing, a gust of wind knocked Nesta's hat off her head. Before she could secure it, the hat began to fly away. Lucien hopped and was able to grab it with little effort. From the corner of his eye, he noticed a slender hand inches from him. He looked over to see Nesta practically leaning over him to get to her lost hat. They looked at each other, both keenly aware of the lack of distance between them. He placed the hat on her head, his hand accidentally brushing her stray hair. He pulled his hand away swiftly. She straightened her back while fastening the hat. Despite they're instinct to move away, neither one could break eye contact.

Roaring from the crowd brought them back to reality. They turned to the track at the same time. High Lord had won. Lucien laughed in victory. Nesta gripped the railing and groaned in defeat. However, her furrowed brows couldn't hide the smile peaking out from her lips.

"It looks like you're buying lunch," she said.

#lucien x nesta #lucnes #lucien vanserra #nesta archeron #acotar fanfiction #baz luhrmann's great gatsby has its grubby little hands all over this fic #lok's tech progression is also an influence I'm not original #acotar #lucien acotar #nesta acotar #you'retimelesstomeacotarfic

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