Chapter Text
Lucien slowly let loose a breath, watching the way a cloud drifted from his lips and into the freezing cold air. He was really starting to hate the Night Court. Tamlin was going to loose his mind if it took him much longer to recover Feyre.
“Lucien are you sure-” Wilden started, a hint of a whine drifting into his tone.
“Wilden.” Rowan snapped quietly.
Lucien bit back a sigh. He trusted these sentries with his life, but taking such a young group to leave Spring Court armed and prepared had quite a handful of inconveniences. For instance, most of their time serving the Court had been spent trapped behind masks and unable to leave the borders.
So espionage wasn't quite their expertise. Not that he had many options. The last sweep of sentries sent to find a girl, to find Feyre, had mostly ended up dead. Anyone with experience was dead.
Not that Lucien's past was riddled either spy work either, but he had decades of experience hiding in the woods from his brothers, so he supposed that had to count for something. Lucien didn't even bother to shush the young sentries, simply holding a finger to his lips.
It had taken the four of them a week for Lucien to find a gap in the wards surrounding the forest, and they had spent the past week just wandering through the forest. Lucien resisted the urge to rub his temples. Great. Lovely. Not to mention that they had found zero sign of Feyre, who was more than likely being tortured or mind controlled.
Shit. Lucien squeezed his eyes shut. Feyre. Please let her be okay. Please. Tamlin had taken it too far, like he always does, but Tamlin was far kinder than what waited for her outside of Spring. Lucien couldn't imagine the horrors that occurred inside the Night Court. Feyre's letter had been faked, blatantly and obviously. You would think that with all of Rhysands powers, he would have thought to check her mind to see if she could write.
She had to be in danger.
Lucien slowed his walking pace as they approached a frozen lake, the scenary so still it looked as if it would shatter with one touch. He caught a glimpse of his reflection, and quickly looked away. They were all in danger if he didn't get Feyre back. That was the only way to get Tamlin to end his alliance with Hybren.
That Cauldron be damned alliance. Lucien hated it. But, he knew better than to push Tamlin ever since Feyre had been kidnapped. The few times he had… he preferred not to discuss. So Lucien kept his head down and looked for a solution.
Feyre. She was the only way. He could solve all his problems in one swoop. Save his friend, get out of this alliance, and save Spring. Lucien could do it. He had to. He was following orders.
If only Andras was here. He would know- No. Lucien would not go down that path, not today.
“Lucien.” Cedar whispered. The other two had gone perfectly still. Voices. Muffled by distance and the occasional explosion. Lucien blinked. The lake was long gone, he had no clue how far they had walked while he was lost in contemplation.
Could it be-
One finger to his lips, Lucien gestured to the trees. In moments, they had all ascended. Cedar and Rowan huddled together in a larger pine, Rowan silently drawing his crossbow. Cedar had one hand braced on the branch below him, the other silently on the hilt of his sword.
A few feet away, Wilden crouched in a separate tree, bow and arrow in hand. Lucien was by far the closest to the small clearing in the trees. He held a dagger in each fist, perfectly balanced on the balls of his feet. He had grown up scaling trees, avoiding his brothers in frequent battles to the death.
Suddenly, she appeared out of the treeline. Wearing fighting leathers, walking with such sureness Lucien did a double take. Feyre.
For a moment he waited. Lucien was impulsive to a fault, he had gotten himself in trouble for that more times than he could count. Feyre obviously hadn't spotted them, and Lucien waited until she was nearly right below him to reveal himself.
Dropping down, feet landing silently, Lucien announced himself with a soft, “Feyre.”
The female whipped her head around, mouth wide in shock. A thousand emotions flickered through her eyes, and Lucien felt a wave of relief crash into him. “Feyre- I can't believe we found you.” He sheathed one of his daggers, extending one hand. He could see Rowan and Cedar drop down from out of the corner of his eye, neither nearly as silent as he had been.
“Come home with me, Feyre. Tamlin- he's so sorry Feyre. Things are bad. We have to go quickly before-” Lucien walked forward with purpose when Feyre didn't immediately grab his hand, reaching to grab her elbow.
“Lucien- no.” Feyre took a half step back. “Lucien stop.” She said more harshly, and Lucien stopped in his tracks.
“Feyre.” Lucien urged with a barely contained the flicker of annoyance. “We have to go. Rhysand could-”
“I'm not going back, Lucien.” Feyre snapped, and Lucien blinked.
“What are you talking about, Feyre?” Lucien let loose a half laugh, desperate and trying to ignore the twisting feeling in his gut. Shit. Rhysand must have gotten to her somehow. He felt Rowan and Cedar closing in around them. They didn't have time for this, Rhysand could arrive at any moment. “Come home with me, I don't know what Rhysand did to you but I promise-”
Then a shadow crossed over the sun. Lucien felt him suddenly, his presence weighing in the air, pressing all the air out of his lungs. Lucien had been afraid before, it was not an unfamiliar sensation. But this. Being in the enemy territory of the most powerful High Lord while trying to take back his hostage, not to mention the sentries he had to protect. Shit.
“Well well, little Lucien.” A deep voice purred. Lucien's spine went rigid as the shadow landed, darkness in swirls around him clouding the blue sky. “Whatever made you think this was a good idea?” Rhysand stood with arms crossed, a lazy smirk on his lips.
Lucien growled, his hairs standing on end. He felt Cedar and Rowan brace themselves. Did they know about Wilden? They had to. It was Rhysand. “Go to hell, Rhysand.” Lucien hissed. “Feyre. Please.” His voice broke. “You don't understand-”
“I don't understand?” Feyre laughed darkly, and her expression was a mirror of Rhysands. Slowly, lazily, she draped her arm around his waist. “I understand perfectly, Lucien.” She said his name with such scorn, it almost made him wince. “Leave my Court. Now.”
Her Court? That was enough. They had to go. Lucien lunged for her, hand extended.
Then the world went black. Lucien withered under the weight of the darkness, the pressure pushing against his skull, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets with the pure power of it. Like endless Night. It curled around him, and when he blinked he was on his knees before Feyre, wrists and ankles shackled with shadows that burned with cold.
“Feyre-” He choked out.
“Quiet.” She snapped. As if they had unfrozen, all of his sentries moved forward at once. Cedar drew his sword, a war cry leaving his lips as he lunged. Rowan abandoned his bow in favor of daggers, throwing himself towards Rhysand. An arrow whizzed through the air, and Feyre laughed.
With a wave of her hand, the shadows evaporated from around Lucien, shattering the shaft of the arrow and encircling his friends. Lucien gasped as he was released, scrambling backwards and onto his feet. When he looked up, he saw his friends frozen in the air, shadows swirling around them, their mouths open in silent screams.
“Stop!” Lucien shouted.
“Would this send Tam a message?” Feyre taunted, squeezing her fist. At her motion, Wilden fell from the sky, landing on the ground with a sickening snap. He didn't move.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
He had to save them. Lucien had to get them out. Feyre- Rhysand would kill them all. “Stop!” Lucien screamed again. Feyre loosened her fist slightly, tilting her head with a sickening glint in her eyes. Rhysand looked thrilled.
“What is it little fox? Cat got your tongue?” Rhysand taunted, barely sparing him a glance as he stated at Feyre with a disgusting look that bordered admiration.
How could he get them out of this? Think. He had to think. “You will let them go. You will let them live.” Lucien ordered, surprising himself when his voice didn't shake.
Feyre laughed, pulling Rhysand tighter. Rhysand grinned at her, wicked and sharp. “And tell us, little Lucien, why exactly should we do that? Any secrets you have I can claw from your minds, perhaps I shall return you to Tamlin with what remains of your precious mind in a box.”
Lucien suppressed a shutter. Shit. What could he do? What cards did he have to play? Wilden could be dead. Cedar and Rowan were nearing his fate with each passing second. Rhysand was right, anything he had to offer they could take by force.
Lucien kept his good eye on Feyre while his metallic one buzzed around his dagger. An idea, so horrible it made him want to surrender flickered into his head. Maybe he was delirious with fear and adrenaline. This was insane. Cauldron boil him, he had never done this before. What had Eris said? Aim for just below the belly button. As hot as possible, hotter than he had ever burned before.
Lucien would die either way. He had done more impulsive things before.
Lucien let the fire burn within him, past the point of safety, let some of the heat travel to the dagger. He needed to stall for a moment. “You need me alive.” He managed to push out through gritted teeth. His magic had never been as strong as Eris's. Mother only knew if he could pull this off.
“Why is that?” Feyre asked, that smirk still on her lips. Rhysand was a glowing, he was absolutely loving this. They didn't expect this. Rhysand was still playing the game, clearly not looking into his mind. Yet. He had to hurry.
A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead. “How does a war with Spring, Autumn, and all of their allies sound to you?” Lucien spat. “Let them go, or I die.” Rhysand looked at him, a puzzled expression flickering across his face.
Lucien plunged the dagger into his gut. For a moment the world went fuzzy, and when it cleared again he had staggered to one knee. He was so hot he could barely feel it, couldn't feel anything beyond the heat of his internal flame. “If you try to control my mind, I will freeze if only for a moment. If I freeze, the fire stops and I die.” Lucien panted out. He was boiling alive, he had to be.
Rhysand and Feyre had frozen in front of him. Feyre's eyes were wide, her shadows around his sentries had faltered and they crashed to the ground with groans. She seemed to remember a moment later and they were encircled again, but Lucien managed to find a glimmer of amusement through the unbearable heat.
He didn't have much time until the heat stopped keeping him from bleeding out and turned into him burning himself to ashes. “You- you don't have much time.” Lucien managed to say, throat so dry it felt like he was swallowing hot coals. It hurt, but not the same way getting his eye torn out had. The heat was so completely consuming it would be easy to slip into it. Into nothing.
“Feyre.” Rhysand said. Lucien could barely hear them over the roaring in his ears, but was that hint of anxiety in his voice? “Darling?”
Feyre was staring at him. Lucien hadn't taken his eyes off of her. Make her feel guilty, some pain, something. This had to work. Rowan- Cedar- Wilden-
“Do it.” Feyre said to Rhysand. “Do it.”
The heat was fading somehow, even though Lucien could feel his magic coursing through him. He vaguely remembered a warning in a brothers voice from long ago, that pushing this too far was dangerous. He ignored it. The heat faded to warmth, and Lucien sank further into it.
“Lucien, I accept your terms.” Rhysand said, and suddenly the sting of magic filled Lucien's nostrils. A bargain.
Lucien suddenly became aware of the fact he was on the ground. He didn't even feel hot anymore. He wasn't sure he felt anything. Looking down, Lucien suddenly remembered the knife in his gut.
A silhouette, blurred by the sweat in his eyes, suddenly was right in front of him. “Lucien- live.”
“Andras?” Lucien muttered, so quietly he wondered if it was lost in the roar of the flames. But he obeyed the voice, pulling the dagger out of his gut. Someone screamed. His throat hurt. Was that him screaming? With one final burst of flame, Lucien sank into the darkness.