A Court of Love and Healing {ACOTAR}

The Sunshine In My Day, My Shooting Stars At Night

That night when everyone else has retired to their respective bedrooms, Lucien does as well, tugging his crimson hair free of its emerald green ribbon and shaking it out. Blowing out a breath, he undresses to his underthings and climbs into bed, staring up at the ceiling as his mind whirls, much like every other night.

His thoughts drift from one thing to another in his messed-up life. His worry over Tamlin, how he'd handle having a mate so soon. How Jurian and Vassa will make it work with her curse. What the impending war with the evil queens will bring about for Prythian. How his mother is doing. If and when Elain will decide to accept him. The rebuilding of Spring. When Beron will finally die and Eris will cash in on his bargain to be accepted as the new High Lord. What secrets Eris has been keeping all these years, much like most of the people he knows in his life.

He wonders why so many aren't truthful. Yes, at times the truth can be daunting or dangerous; risky business. But ultimately you don't have lies and crushing stories weighted on your shoulders. But then again, with Beron around you can never be too careful. Even when you think you are, you really aren't. It's never safe. He knows that lesson all too well.

Eris has learned that lesson too in other ways; getting caught by Briallyn had put some pretty nasty bruises upon his eldest brother's usually regal-looking face, no doubt courtesy of their depraved father. His attempts to completely hide his slight wincing with certain movements when he had a short meeting in Velaris had been futile, at least to Lucien, who knew all too well the signs of being whipped by Beron's roughest and most unrelenting guards, all of the Vanserra brothers had experienced it at one point or another, and only the weakest of them had let the cruelty turn them into sadists.

Meaning all but he and Eris, though for decades he had believed him to be one of them. Just more secrets that didn't need to be kept, as if he wasn't trustworthy when he had proved to nearly everyone time and time again that he is. As much as he carries distaste for Eris still for all those years, he is curious to see how his brother will be as High Lord. How he will act with Beron no longer looming over him, over them all. Wonders how his other brothers will act; if they will remain as rabid dogs or if they will soften as if freed from a spell.

Lucien takes another deep breath into his lungs and allows himself a reprieve from regality. Allows himself to grieve all of the horrific shit he has seen and suffered in his lifetime. His eyes water, the tear guard sensor on his golden eye activating with a crystal-clear sheath to protect the inner workings of it. He had lost his lively brothers from childhood, who were turned into cruel demons, he had lost his first true love by his father's hand, he had lost his eye for fighting for what was right, he had lost loyalties for things he couldn't control, he had lost his home and all he had ever known in the Autumn Court, he had lost his mother by fleeing for his life, something which always pained him to know—that she was still stuck there. Then he had lost his second home with the fallout of Tamlin and Feyre's relationship and being put in the middle yet again. He had also lost his sense of worth. Centuries of being used and abused and taken advantage of takes its toll.

Suddenly a thought floats into his mind. Elain may be his mate, but does he really deserve her? After everything he's been through, and everything that has tainted him, how could a tortured soul like his be mated to someone so gentle and seemingly dainty? Elain is tough, he has no doubt about that, but would she truly want a male who has been so tainted by evil? Who's body has not belonged to him in a very long time? Who's outward and inward appearance is scarred and jagged? He had asked Feyre to see her to see if she was worth fighting for, but in reality, it was he who wanted to know if he could connect to a kindred soul, someone who could find it in their heart to see him. Really see him. To look past the scars and the brutality and into the softest parts of him. Slowly, she has. There is also no denying some of the similarities between them. Fighting against evil for what is right and losing a part of you along the way, being looked at as if you aren't enough. Never truly belonging anywhere. Being in the middle of everything and not knowing who you truly are anymore.