I say,
Tamlin, Lucien decides, is going to kill them all.
Allying with Hybern. Of all-
Lucien clamps down on his rage.
Feyre. Lucien hoped the Morrigan was treating her right.
She had either festered with hate against what Eris had done or was so disgusted that she would never do such a thing.
There were, however, more than one way to torture someone.
Lucien is ordered to capture Feyre’s sisters. Something he knew Feyre would never forgive him for.
He had wanted to fight, of course. Tell Tamlin that Feyre would slaughter him for it.
Tamlin had growled, told him he had two weeks to do it, and that he would be taking Ianthe during Calanmai.
Lucien saw the order in his eyes, the twitching of his hands and did not argue.
-
He had scrubbed himself clean until his skin was raw and bleeding right after. He did not leave the bathroom for hours.
-
Lucien winnowed silently to the border.
Feyre, forgive me.
Lucien poured some sedatives in the food the servants were preparing and waited.
-
“Who are you?” Nesta snarls.
Lucien just stares blankly at them.
Gods, what has he done.
The other sister, Elain, had woken up too and was shaking.
“Where is Feyre?” Nesta demands again, struggling against the ropes binding them together.
Lucien purses his lips and turns away from them in the dark room.
A signal of footsteps announces Tamlin’s arrival.
Lucien drops to his knees in one fluid motion.
“My Lord,” Lucien greets and Tamlin nods.
“No harm shall befall you as long as you follow what I say and do not aggravate the King,” Tamlin orders, all brusque and business.
Nesta scowls and angles herself in front of Elain.
“You, you fae, you take away my sister, you kill her, you bring her back, you change her. What more do you want from us?”
Feyre had visited them?
Tamlin clearly had the same question.
“Is she okay?” Tamlin urges.
Nesta sneers.
“Okay enough to bring her two winged, overgrown bats, that unappreciative dark-hair male and the blond one for dinner,” Nesta spat out.
“General Cassian, Spymaster and Shaodwsinger Azriel, Rhysand and the Morrigan,” Lucien murmurs to Tamlin.
“How was Feyre,” Tamlin demands.
Nesta visibly bristles.
“You kidnap us, just to ask us inane questions about her?”
Tamlin growls and talons flick out.
Lucien starts for the sisters, who’s attention snapped to the claws.
“Feyre is important, she is mine, do you understand?”
“The Feyre I knew would never sell her life away for ownership unless it was for survival,” Elain bravely says mildly, meeting his eyes unflinchingly.
Tamlin roars and shifts into the beast.
Nesta covers Elain and they automatically move towards the wall.
“Tamlin, you will not harm them,” Lucien warns.
“Stand down, Emissary,” Tamlin growls back, and it stings, but he has more things to take care of than his own feelings from insecurity and childishness.
“You will not harm the two you have sworn to protect. Feyre will never forgive you,” Lucien pleads.
Tamlin heaves a sigh and shifts back.
Nesta gives a wary look.
Elain, however, looks at him, calculating.
Oh no, Lucien thinks, they probably think he’s an ally now.
Lucien refrains from sighing. Archeron sisters, pains in the arse.
“Emissary, inform them of what is happening,” Tamlin snaps and leaves.
Lucien does sigh this time.
“I will loosen your ropes, do not come flying at me, I can tell you that I will not hurt you but the other sentries have been ordered to detain you whatever methods possible by the High Lord,” Lucien warns.
Nesta gives him a glance and deems him suitable.
Lucien loosens the knots.
“Do you want me to heal the bruises?” Lucien asks.
“Do what you must,” Nesta sneers.
“Thank you,” Elain adds.
Lucien follows suit silently.
“You stay quiet. Tam is going to use you to get Feyre back from Night Court, where she was… staying. The situation is more complex than that, and I cannot tell you much. What I will now tell you will increase your chances of survival, you may even go back to your home safely and unharmed.”
Nesta looks like she’s refraining from clawing at his face for kidnapping them in the first place.
“Hybern will do many things if they got their hands on you. Feyre will come to save you, as long as you stay still and not incur the wrath of Tam and Hybern, I can protect you long enough for you to escape. Drink this water, have some food, not all in case you need to puke from nerves or run. Please, for the life of you two, do not make them angry. I am only one against many,” Lucien says, passing them a cup of water and a container of some vegetables and beef strips.
“Why,” Nesta asks, cautiously accepting the water.
“I have sworn to protect Feyre. I know she will never forgive me for not protecting the two of you. Besides, I have many vows and debts. Of lesser fae, of humans, of High Fae. It is written in bindings that I protect those who cannot protect themselves. This threat, it is far greater than you can imagine. The people have already seen 50 years of suffering, I will try to shield them from another war so they can have a semblance of happiness,” Lucien softly says.
Nesta falls silent.
“You will vow or swear or whatever to protect Elain no matter what. Elain comes before me,” Nesta commands.
Three sisters, connected by fate, in this together, binded by life.
Mother, Maiden, Crone.
“I swear to protect Elain Archeron to my best ability, and as dictated, so mote it be,” Lucien vows and the magic washes over him and Elain.
Elain continues to stare at him.
“You better,” Nesta sniffs, but relaxes slightly.
Lucien gives a wry smile and collects the used cup, settling down beside them on the floor.
“I live to serve.”