#pgpaperweight

Dawn, L. (Idk why I’m keeping his name a secret, lol), Ivy, Andras (the second), little Faith and young Jamie (the pyro, haha, I should add a flame into his fist).

I can’t wait to properly introduce them all.

EDIT: cleaner version

Genetics 😄

Eris clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disbelief. His familiar amber eyes studied Elain for a long moment before he reached into his jacket to pull out a polished apple. He held it in his hands, his gaze fixed on Elain as he contemplated what to do. Then, he said, “Elain, can you repeat after me? I want you to say, ‘I release all my bargains regarding the restrictions I placed on talking about my mate.’”

Elain glanced around the garden, noticing how everyone had gone quiet once more, including her mate, who stood tensely beside her. He shifted his posture, drawing closer to her until his arm touched hers. She tried to focus, her mind getting lost as she searched for any hidden memories that might be important, but nothing significant came to mind. It was as if her worries had vanished, leaving her with an odd sense of clarity. Taking a steadying breath, she shrugged off the slight unease and nodded, meeting Eris' gaze with indifference. Then she repeated, “I release all my bargains regarding the restrictions I placed on talking about my mate.”

Something changed in the air around them, as if a blanket were being lifted. The change was subtle but still noticeable. "That was... surprisingly easy," someone remarked. "I can't believe it!"

"Let me try it first," a male voice said. Elain turned her gaze and noticed Hermis striding towards them. He fixed his eyes on Lucien and continued, "You know, when I first met Elain, she was in the act of stealing a bag of yours right off the balcony of your chambers. It was during the summit in Diox. Quite the introduction, don’t you think?”

Elain did not remember such a thing. “I’ve never stolen anything in my life,” she protested.

Same evening, six years later

Lucien stumbled into Elain’s house just past midnight, exhausted and frazzled. After what felt like an eternity, he had finally managed to soothe his son to sleep, following a series of endless cries and persistent complaints. The little one had been fussy and overtired, escalating from mild to full-blown, cranky meltdowns whenever they attempted to wrap up a game that had spiraled out of control. Without the grounding presence of Elain or his grandmother, the situation often escalated into chaos. Even at his young age, he seemed to test the boundaries, displaying a challenging spirit especially toward males. A hot temperament that was strikingly absent when he was with females.

In Elain' house house, he was the picture of a well-behaved little boy. But within the walls of the palace, he transformed into a wild little dragon, full of fire and mischief. He was the most adorable thing Lucien could ever have wanted. There was nothing he wouldn't do for his child, and he cherished those hours they spent together deeply.

Earlier that evening, Elain had briefly joined them for dinner but had quickly retreated back to her house. Now he could see why. The aroma wafting through the air was simply divine as he entered through the gates. Elain had been preparing meals for the days to come. The irresistible scent of sautéed onions and garlic mingled with the savory scent of seasoned vegetables and meat. His mouth watered just thinking about the food, and once he entered the house, he found himself leaning over the still-hot pot, glancing into the thick, nutritious sauce his mate had prepared with love for their son.

“Uh-huh,” he heard Elain’s voice from the stairs just as he put a gravy-covered piece of homemade bread into his mouth.

There she was, heart-stoppingly beautiful, leaning against the wall by the stairs, arms crossed over her chest, brows raised.

Grinning, Lucien dipped another thick piece of bread into the sauce and unabashedly savored the flavor.

“Yor cookin’s th bst,” he mumbled before sauntering straight over to her.

Recognizing his intention, she pivoted and ran upstairs. Without wasting any seconds, he followed after her, and when he reached her bedroom, he all but pushed her onto the bed. In a heartbeat, their clothes were discarded, and soon, her soft moans filled the dimly lit room as they lost themselves in each other. The world outside faded away.

Afterward, she nestled comfortably in his arms, a soft smile gracing her lips as her eyelids grew heavy with sleep.

“Don’t tell me he only fell asleep before midnight?”

“It wasn’t my fault. Helion doesn’t know when to stop. Last I checked, he was engrossed in reading him that human book about dragons and knights. Five minutes later, they were both snoring away. I rushed to you as soon as I could.”

“Hmm,” she said, a laugh vibrating in her chest. “The palace offers a lot of adventures and has fewer rules when it comes to playing. Sometimes I think he prefers the palace to this house. After all, it must feel incredibly small and cramped in comparison.”

The house was indeed cramped these days, but not in a bad way. Elain had moved her office work downstairs, where the other bed used to be. The kids' toys were scattered everywhere. There were at least a hundred books shelved in the corridor now.

“I happen to like it cozy,” Lucien whispered against her hair. “I’m pretty sure this is exactly what our son enjoys in the palace. The company, the sounds, the get-togethers. Me, his grandparents, his new aunt... and strange uncle.”

“So, you’re telling me that this house is lonely?” Elain mumbled, her tone shifting to one of familiar defensiveness. He turned her in his arms and rolled on top of her, pinning her beneath him. Golden chains wrapped around her wrists, binding her arms to the bed. She widened her eyes slightly but opened her legs regardless.

“Are we feeling particularly wicked tonight, my prince?” she asked, her voice playful, but her eyes grew dark with lust.

“We're always wicked, princess,” he replied as the chains held her parted legs in place. He began trailing soft, lingering kisses down her stomach.

“Lonely,” he said, licking around her navel, “is the last word I’d use for this house. It’s love. It’s home.”

“He wants you here,” Elain murmured, but her words turned into a gasp as he began to lick between her legs, skillfully avoiding the spot he knew she wanted him to tease.

“Say the word,” Lucien peladed, pausing for a moment to trail upward. He kissed one breast and then the other. “I want to be here, Elain. You know how much I long to spend every night with my family.”

That troubled expression crossed her face. “It would be too… crowded. This is a small house, Lucien.”

For a moment, he was left utterly speechless. This was not her usual response when he brought this topic up, when they discussed the possibility of him staying with her. Now, she wasn’t outright saying that she didn’t want him there. Rather, she was expressing that there was too much clutter, that the rooms were too small—but Lucien only needed a drawer after all, he had an entire palace at his disposal.

“Let me build a side extension, then,” he exclaimed, the idea forming instantly in his mind. Elain’s mouth dropped open, but she could only manage a sharp intake of breath. “Here, on the north side of the wall where the ivy grows. Let me extend the corridor and build additional rooms downstairs as well as one or two on the second floor. A proper study for you, a reading nook for all the books, and a spare room for me when you decide you’ve had enough of me. It would mean the world to me if I could just be near you, petal.”

He held his breath, waiting for her answer, bracing himself for her familiar arguments against his desire for proximity. Spending days together working was fine, sharing every other night in each other’s arms was a necessity, but this—living together—was a serious commitment of a different kind, one she hadn’t been ready for.

“On trial,” he added softly, trying not to sound pleading but failing miserably. “I’ll go back to the palace if it doesn’t work out.”

A lone tear slipped from her eye as she shifted her gaze away from him. Closing his eyes briefly, Lucien tried to push his own hurt aside as he whispered, “I’m sorry.” Just as Elain said, “Okay.”

The world seemed to still for a moment. He stared at her, unblinking, in disbelief, wonder, astonishment. Surely, he was hallucinating—there was no way Elain was agreeing to live together.

Hesitantly, she asked, “What about the other two rooms you intended to build?”

A tear of his own escaped, trailing down one side of his cheek and blurring his vision. The raw emotions he felt threatened to overwhelm him. “Anything you want,” he rasped as he leaned in to kiss her, praying that she wouldn’t change her mind. “I could think of one... or two things. An addition that would turn this place even more chaotic.”

Her breath hitched.

She didn’t change her mind.

They made love until the first rays of sunlight spilled through the curtain, only waking later when they heard their son and grandparents bustling about in the house.

“Mommy! Dad!” their son complained from the other side of the door.

“Not again! That’s so mean! I thought we weren’t allowed to lock doors! One day, I’m going to figure out what you’re doing in there! Helipop, can you unlock the door?”

“Of course, kiddo,” Helion replied in amusement, his voice intentionally loud and playful.

“This isn’t helpful,” Lucien coaxed, tears filling his eye as he choked back a sob. “This isn’t helpful at all. Enough! Enough!”

He kissed the top of her head and asked gently, “Will you listen to me now?”

She didn’t reply or nod, but he remained undeterred by her lack of response. He chose his words carefully. “You weren’t well. You... slept a lot. When we were together, we somehow initiated the acceptance of the bond. Now, let me make one thing clear—I wanted to. I was thrilled that you’d want me that way. I know we didn’t talk about this… about us, about whether it could be a possibility for you. I knew that you weren’t particularly fond of me, so I stopped it. I wanted to talk to you first to make sure you understood what we were doing.”

“I don’t want you that way,” she murmured against his chest. “It wasn’t intentional on my part.”

He believed the latter. And only the latter.

“Do you remember what happened afterward?”

She was quiet for so long that he feared she had fallen asleep. When she finally answered, it was in that defensive, cold tone of hers. “No, but I can guess.”

He brushed his lips against her shoulder, trying to see her face. “You fell into... stupor. The others explained everything, and—”

“There’s no such thing,” she interrupted, turning to face him. “They made the whole thing up, and whatever they said, it’s a lie. They aren’t even allowed to spread that nonsense. Who told you about this ridiculous stupor theory?”

Noticing the panic rising in her, he sat up, fully aware of how fragile this moment was.

When he tried to reach for her, she drew away.

“Someone who worked with Dan mentioned it to me,” he said gently, trying to keep his tone soothing. “She knew about your condition. She knew everything about it… The female who created the device that helped keep you breathing.”

Elain began to shake her head. “No, no, I did not…” She fumbled, her terror rising.

“It’s alright. It’s only been three days. You’re okay now,” he reassured her.

“Did something else happen?”

Elain flicked her hand, and a faelight appeared around her. This time, her question was a demand. “Tell me what happened.”

And so he did. He told her about Nuan’s explanation, about the morning in the garden, and the things she had said about the roots. He mentioned Ghost Boy and Andras (she referred to him as the Ivy Ghost), but Lucien got slightly off topic by explaining that he'd been his best friend and one of Tamlin's sentries. He couldn't elaborate further. Upon hearing his name, Elain silenced him with a shake of her head.

“I don’t want to talk about that. Is there something else?”

When he explained the part about the bargain, Elain's face lost so much color that she resembled a ghost herself.

"No."

He did not back down. "The bargain is gone."

"No." The terror in her eyes was unmistakable. It was clear that she wanted to ask what he knew, what he’d been told.

His silence, or perhaps the expression on his face, seemed to provide her answer. The carranam bond sent a powerful ripple through her body, amplifying her emotions. Her eyes flashed with anger, and her skin prickled with heat. Her canines elongated, and for a moment, he found himself staring into the eyes of a goddess of fire and light, his powers wielded by his mate.

“Don’t—” she hissed, “don’t look at me like that!”

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Softly, he replied, “I want you. You have to understand this. You have to—”

“Because they told you!” she yelled, jumping from the bed to put space between them, or perhaps to avoid burning the whole mattress. “Because they betrayed me, and they chose you. They chose you, and they told you things you weren’t supposed to know. And now you want me. Now you think you want me. Now you feel obligated to want me, but you weren’t supposed to know. I’ll—oh, Eris. Eris, you’re done. You’re so done.”

On her way out, she grabbed a spatula and a frying pan, the air around her sizzling. Lucien tried to rein in that power, slowing down the flow of magic between them as they had trained during their carranam sessions. If she wasn’t careful, she could set this house on fire.

She was fast; within the blink of an eye, she was outside, and he was certain she would winnow away as soon as she crossed her gates. Running after her, he tried to reason, yelling, “Elain, I’m sorry! I’m truly sorry. Please, just calm down and let us talk this through! It’s the middle of the night, and you’re planning to strike a High Lord with nothing but things from the kitchen counter. And to top it all off, we’re both naked! Don’t grant the Forest House such a spectacle!”

He reached the gates just in time to grab Elain by the shoulder, ready to stop her from using her magic. But instead of winnowing away, she simply stood there, her expression vacant. The pan and spatula slipped from her hands, clattering to the ground as her eyes lost their sharpness, drifting into a distant gaze. Her body felt unnaturally cold against his touch, and her breathing became alarmingly shallow, sending a wave of dread through him.

He carried the now stiff Elain back toward her home. Her skin was pale, and the spark in her eyes faded more with each passing second. He nudged her, spoke to her, and tried to keep her steady and awake as they approached the threshold. Just as they crossed into the warmth, she lost consciousness and went limp in his arms.

~

Helion came by to check on them and confirmed Lucien's assumption that the stupor indeed had moments of absolute clarity. The last stupor had lasted two months, but Elain had been affected by ongoing mildly stupored days until just recently.

Lucien had been leaning against the door to Elain's study for hours now, cradling a wooden figurine in his hands, its worn and smooth surface warm from his touch. He turned it over repeatedly, just like Hermis had done during that dinner that felt like a lifetime ago.

Elain had treasured that very first gift he had ever bought her. The way the colors had faded spoke volumes about just how many times it must have been held.

As the morning light filtered through the cracks of the door, Lucien finally pushed the small handle on the paperweight. With a foreboding click, a hollowed-out section opened, revealing the silver room key that had caused the clattering sound whenever the paperweight was shaken.

With a pounding heart, he pulled the key from its hidden compartment, closed the lid of the paperweight, and took a staggering breath. Lucien then opened the door to Elain’s office.

I'm still working on it, but it should be ready next week.

Okay, it's happening. He's finally entering the Shrine Room™ or as Lucien calls it, the Room of Shame and Agony. This chapter is a ride... a bipolar emotional whiplash, flipping from spice and love straight into agony and dark thoughts.

Prepare for Dear L,'s. 💔

I don’t have a shrine room, only a modest shrine shelf dedicated to my favorite boys 😉

Same day, six years later

Elain awoke to the gentle sound of bare feet tapping against the wooden floor, accompanied by the sound of soft shuffling. Stirring from her sleep, she immediately glanced toward the open door of the room across the hallway. Since her son had decided to try sleeping alone, they had left both doors wide open. He insisted he wasn’t a baby anymore, especially now that his little cousin Astra was sleeping all by herself in her nursery.

As she stepped quietly to the threshold, Elain caught sight of her son. Kneeling on the floor, he was struggling to squeeze his colorful cushions into a small backpack. His little brows were knitted in concentration, and the intensity of his focused expression gave his freckled face an endearing charm.

“Good morning, Sunbeam,” she greeted, her voice warm with affection. At the mention of his nickname, he jumped slightly, then smiled. It was a smile that outshone the sun itself. He truly was a sunbeam, laughing and smiling all the time—except when it came to sleep. Ever since he had spent over two days in stasis, he had developed a fear of the dark.

“Mommy,” he said, proudly gesturing towards the bed. “I didn’t sneak into your bed last night.”

“I know, sweetheart,” she replied gently. “And I wouldn’t have minded if you did.”

“I’m not a baby. I’m four,” he declared firmly, cheeks puffing out with pride. Keeping to herself that he was still very much her baby, she decided to help him pack the cushions into a large bag. “Are you sure you want to carry them all to the palace?” she asked, regarding the pile.

“Yes,” he insisted with an enthusiastic nod. “Dad promised that we’d build a fortress out of all the cushions from the palace, but there might not be enough. It’s going to be the bestest fortress ever! We’re going to sleep in there tonight!”

“That sounds like a lot of fun.”

“Mm-m,” he agreed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and blinking up at her through his tousled hair. His expression shifted slightly, turning hopeful as he added, “Will you join us?”

Elain tried to sound sincere. "It’s your time with your dad. I better not interrupt."

"But he’d love it if you joined us. Dad’s going to be the dragon because he can breathe fire, and Helion and I are going to defend the fortress. If you were there, he’d kidnap you, and then we’d come and save you!"

"Sweetheart," Elain explained, crouching down. "We’ll do it another time, okay? I have a lot of work to do today, but I’ll be all yours tomorrow."

He seemed to consider asking if Dad could come over to stay with them, live with them, again, but ultimately decided against it. Almost every night, he whispered that same hesistant question. Elain always responded gently, reassuring him that it was better this way—that their current arrangement was more harmonious, even if he couldn’t yet understand why.

He took quite a while to change from his pajamas into his toga, insisting that he would do everything by himself. Elain suppressed a chuckle as he carefully examined each fold of the fabric to make sure it looked just right—a habit he'd picked up from his father. After much struggle, he finally relented and allowed his mom to help him with the laces of his boots.

As he headed downstairs for breakfast, Elain paused by the door to take in the chaotic room. Just the night before, she had spent half an hour putting everything back in its proper place. Yet her son had managed to turn it back into a battlefield of toys and clothes in just a few minutes. Still, Elain couldn't help but smile as she took in the scene. She adored every shirt that lay on the ground and every little sock that missed its pair.

Feyre had dedicated countless hours to painting the walls of her renovated office during Elain's first pregnancy. One side of the room showed a breathtaking depiction of Velaris, with its shimmering night sky filled with twinkling stars stretching across half of the ceiling. The deep blues and purples gradually changed into the soft, warm hues of dawn, ultimately blending into day. The other wall was bright blue, adorned with a radiant sun and the outlines of Solaris. Although they had transformed the Heir's chambers into a colorful adventure land, Elain knew that this room truly felt like his own. It was home.

The bed faced the door, with her own bed just on the other side of the corridor. This way, all he had to do was open his eyes to see his mother in the other room. She couldn’t bear to witness the way his innocent heart was plagued by nightmares. Although his fears were slowly fading, he remained a remarkably sensitive child, quick to sense the emotions of others and eager to appease by instinctively adjusting his behavior to please those around him. He reminded her of herself a bit too much.

Like every morning, they ate an early breakfast together. Her boy wasn’t the best eater. With an insatiable sweet tooth, he often turned his nose up at healthy meals in favor of sugary treats. At age two, he had already set a fire and used the commotion to climb onto the counter to eat the tarts. By age three, he had feigned a stomachache so severe that Lucien had rushed to the Dawn Court to find one of the best healers—only to return and discover that the young Heir of Day was hiding in the cabinet of his father's chambers, devouring the chocolate stashed away for special occasions.

Right now, her little boy was fixated on the jar of honey sitting enticingly on the table, while eating his plate of cheese and tomatoes, patiently waiting for Elain to turn around so he could snatch it away and lick it clean.

Elain smiles as she moved to the counter to refill her mug with coffee. When she turned back around, she found the little cup of honey and jam empty, and there was her son, munching on a slice of cucumber with an utterly innocent expression. It made her laugh. His face was smeared with jam, his finger sticky, yet he didn’t seem to make the connection just yet. Elain wouldn’t want him any other way.

He was perfect—utterly perfect in every way she could imagine.

Their quiet morning together was interrupted by the buzzing of wards, signaling someone’s arrival.

Her son jumped to his feet, grabbed his backpack filled with two stuffed cushions, and took another large bag packed as full as it could be with even more. After sharing a tight hug and a quick peck on the cheek, he bolted outside to the gates.

Elain watched fondly as he began chatting animatedly with his father, who stood just outside waiting for him. Lucien tousled his son’s hair affectionately and exchanged a few playful word. He looked up then, and his eyes met Elain's. The smile on his face froze for a moment, and the affectionate warmth in his eyes intensified, increased into longing—a yearning that Elain knew was mirrored in her own gaze.

He nodded politely in greeting, and she did the same.

It had been three days since they last surrendered to their feelings, and she wondered if they would seek each other out tonight.