Disclaimer: So... Being a vassien stan is kinda lonely and I got tired of skimming through elriel fanfiction just to get a glimpse of my ship 😅 that's why I realized that I should just write my own fic and put my hopes and theories about Vassa and Lucien on the next acotar books there.
I wanna clarify that some of these chapters may not be very detailed. As someone who's been working on an original epic fantasy book for a long time, sometimes I really need to relax and just write random scenes that come into my head, without too much planning. This fanfic will be like that. Also, I'm not used to writing fiction in English, so this will serve as training as well. In the end, this is just for my own personal enjoyment!
The palace above the lake was pale, but full of darkness; Lucien could, more than see it in the shadows lingering on every corner, sense it. The energy there was heavy and wrong, to the point that it made some of the human soldiers around him stop to throw up. Lucien had offered to heal them magically, but they didn't receive it well, so he stepped back. And why would they? Lucien was as alien to them as the lord of that place was to the fae. They had no reason to trust him.
As he walked beside Feyre, Nesta and Elain's father further and further into the palace - which now seemed more like a labyrinth - Lucien contained a cruel smile. He fit just as well with these humans as he did in the Night Court. Or in the Spring Court. Or in Autumn. The fact that the only place where he'd felt something similar to peace in the last year had been a tent on lord Archeron's camp felt like a joke from the Cauldron. But he had met the man at his side in a coincidence; with both of them being at that part of the continent for the first time and having the same mission, lord Archeron thought better to have Lucien on his side.
He obviously expected Lucien to perform great magic. Maybe he expected a warrior. And though Lucien was well versed in his weapons, he didn't think that would help anyone here. He had told Archeron that he was in a sort of diplomatic mission to help Feyre and her husband in the war and that he was used to work in politics. It had been enough to convince the old merchant to bring Lucien with him to the lake. But would he do it, otherwise? Lucien tried to ignore the darkness doing its best to suffocate him; except for the fact that right now Nesta and Elain were safe with their sister, he hadn't told their father anything else yet.
"Do you think he can see us now?", lord Archeron muttered to Lucien.
"It is very probable. He is a god, or at least calls himself one, after all."
The man gave him a scared look. Probably afraid that Lucien had been disrespectful. The male didn't think he was, though - and he had a history of offending powerfull beings. His thoughts had always been sharp, as had his tongue, and growing up on Autumn had made him learn how to use it as a weapon. It had also made him learn how to control his temper and measure exactly how much he could offend someone without getting murdered.
Of course, at times, he calculated wrong - or didn't calculate at all. Lucien had his golden eye as proof.
Still, there he was. Alive. A failure, a curse and a blessing.
"Well", the man sounded as if he was trying to raciocinate to calm himself, "but he did let us in when we told the sentinels what we're here for. This is nothing but a negotiation, after all. Unless..."
Lucien knew exactly what he was thinking when Archeron looked at him again.
"He has nothing to gain from kidnapping me." It was the truth. No matter how high Lucien had been born, no one in Prythian would bat an eye for his missing now. Archeron didn't know he was a High Lord's son; he also had no ideia that Lucien used to be the right arm of another High Lord. None of that mattered, had never mattered. Titles were nothing but a bunch of words that could be undone at any moment.
The man nodded, and they continued in silence, Archeron's own men walking behind them until they finally reached a couple of doors that could have three times Lucien's height. There was one dead-eyed soldier guarding those doors, and Lucien wondered if he was, in fact, dead. The male - he wasn't really fae, but didn't look human either - blinked and said:
"Only the negotiator shall enter this room."
"Very well", lord Archeron replied. "We are both negotiators."
The male didn't answer, but opened the door. It was something of a throne room, and, as Lucien entered the death god's presence, curiously, he felt as if his life was about to change completely.
Around them, there were iron cages guarding many different "animals" - who obviously hadn't been born in that way. Is the queen here already? For some reason, he felt like he should know her. In front of them, sat the god.
With pale skin, long black hair and no clothes beside a toga, he didn't look much older than Hybern - except for his eyes. There was something in them, ancient and curious and dangerous. Lucien felt his arms getting goosebumps when the being studied him, then lord Archeron.
"I smell very interesting things in you, human", said Koschei. His voice was as old as his eyes. "Something furious, something lovely and something wise."
Nesta, Elain and Feyre. If their father realized what the god was talking about, he didn't show it. "And you..." Koschei turned to Lucien again. "Many different smells on you, boy."
"I've been to many places."
"That's not quite it", the god opened a too large, too dangerous smile. "You would be such a great addition to my collection."
It took all his stubbornness to remain in place. More even to say calmly:
"Actually, we are here for one of your prisioners."
Koschei blinked. Even that movement was unsettling.
"I see. I saw it. Come here, dear Vassa."
The god looked at one of the cages, and suddenly a door was opened. They waited for a minute - Lucien and lord Archeron even looked at each other, afraid it was all a trick, but then finally... A ball of light and fire flew furiously through it. Lucien faced the high cellar, somehow amazed and something else entirely, something he chose not to understand. It - she - had the form of a bird of flame, and kept flying in circles above them, as if avoiding getting closer to her captor.
"She is beautiful, isn't she?"
Don't call her that. Lucien did his best to calm his fury, the necessity of... Of doing what? The best he could do for that poor woman was survive to get her away from that awful place. Still, he felt a flame rising in his eye. The flesh one.
"We need her in Prythian, my...", the human merchant hesitated, "lord. We hoped to make a deal."
"And you think she would be better off with you than here, safe in my palace?" The bird let out a raging sound. She didn't have fire only in the outside, it appeared.
"My lord, we need armies, armies that only her name could rise. To save our continent from terrible men who seek to enslave us. Tell me your price."
"My price." Koschei let out a deep laugh, that made lord Archeron step back a little. "Tell me, human. Did you know the prince at your side is mated to your daughter? The lovely one, of course."
Damn it. The man didn't look at Lucien this time - refused to show any emotion. So Lucien stepped forward, and chose the truth. Nothing else would satisfy the creature in front of him.
"I left her because she didn't need me. I'm no longer a prince; only a male who wants to do what's right, for once. Tell us your price, god. We both represent an union not seen in centuries, all because we care for Prythian." And Lucien cared, truly. He was done with being a bystander, done with accepting anything in order to remain having a place to call home. It was better to make peace with the fact that he didn't. He had no idea of what the future reserved for him, but...
That mission. It was vital.
Koschei smiled again. Above, the bird-queen started to make lower circles.
"Well, I'm not interested in having Hybern destroy that beautiful place." The way he said it, Lucien thought that maybe he wanted to be the one to destroy it, if he ever found a way to get out of that lake. "So I'm gonna give her to you. For a limited time. And a price."
"That is?" Asked Archeron.
"The most precious thing you have." In the silence that followed, the god chuckled. "It is not any of your daughters, be not afraid. You will know it when the time comes. If you die before paying me back, human, the boy will inherit your debt, naturally. As your soon-to-be son-in-law."
"I accept", the man said promptly.
"We should discuss it more", Lucien whispered; it was useless there, but still he did it. "This is not..."
Finally, lord Archeron turned to him again.
"I have a debt", he said softly. "With my girls. I know I'll never pay it. But still I can try. Please, help me."
To that, Lucien had no answer. He knew the story. And he, too, had a debt to Feyre, to them. Nothing would ever fix it. And that knowledge... it must have been why, even knowing the risk that he was putting himself into, he nodded. Let us deal with it when the war is over.
And maybe the sisters would hate him for that; maybe that was another one of his fucking long list of mistakes. But the man chose his path, and Lucien didn't stop him.
"It is always pleasant to set a deal with humans", Koschei said. Then blinked once more, and the firebird started to... Shift in a ball of even brighter fire, coming to the ground near Lucien. He put himself in one knee, trying to help her— and those eyes, the bluest that the male had ever seen, faced him with pain, fury... Hope. On the next moment, she was a woman sitting.
She wore an orange dress filled with golden ornaments - something fit for a queen. Her hair was the color of fire; her skin, golden-brown and full of freckles; her features, sharp and feral and royal and... For a second, he swore that she looked vulnerable, so lost that he wanted to do nothing but help her.
She was also beautiful. It was an interesting beauty, one that Lucien, with all his silver tongue, couldn't really find words to describe. Stupidly, besides the war, and his mate, and everything, he found himself wishing to just look at the queen for an unlimited time. To study her face, her posture, her thoughts.
Stop this, a voice growled inside of him. Stop these fucking thoughts.
So he did. Though he still offered her a hand to help her stand up, which she took without a word, never taking her inquisitive blue eyes off him. They looked familiar, even though he was sure that they'd never met before. It was like... They already knew each other. Lucien felt... As if he was supposed to know everything about her.
They did not have time for that.
"You are—", the woman gasped, suddenly. The air got instantly colder. She looked back at Koschei, her captor, who didn't appear as pleased as he previously had. Lord Archeron started to ask what was happening, but Lucien only stared at her. Unmoving. She faced him again, eyes wide. "Run."
