Lovely Death

The Longest Night

Three months.
It's been three months and 20 days since Elaine has seen the shadowsinger.
That night on winter Calstice when she waited for everyone to go into their rooms, waited for the house to quiet down.
Waited for him.
She knew he would.
She noticed how Azriel doesn't sleep all that much, or perhaps he doesn't sleep much at all.
She knew he would be roaming the halls, keeping watch- always on guard.
It's become somewhat of a tradition that she gifts him something somewhat of a gag.
She would do anything to hear him laugh, see that smile that one's seldom gets to see.

She didn't expect the night to go the way that it did, neither of them really.
Azriel knew it was wise to wait to give her that precious neckless. But knew it was still foolish.
Foolish of him to put the neckless on her at her request. To linger, to touch her soft skin. Oh how soft her skin was.
The kiss they almost shared. She would dream about that moment for the years to come. The shadowsingers eyes has already invaded her nights when she's alone.
When her hand slips between her thighs. Her gaze always finds the darkest, shadowy part of her room and pretends it's him, watching her as she writhes for him, comes for him.
She is always a little self conscious. Like Azriel could actually know what she does, that she imagines him, that his name is the only thing she whimpers .

A crash sounds and she's snapped out of that day dream to find herself in the kitchen, broken glass at her feet.
Her thoughts dissipate quickly as she feels it.
Her stomach coils and her throat tightens.
Her mate. Lucien.
She can feel him, smell him as the bond between them snap into to place like the perfect piece to a puzzle. 
Elaine always knows when he is near, and he has made it a point to visit here more often than she'd like.

She dropped her favorite bowl. And now she has to make a new batch of dough.
She can hear Lucien being let in and feyre talking to him loudly. Like she giving her a que to get her ass in there to say hi to her mate. She sighs as she starts to pick up the broken glass and placing it into a thick towel.

"Elaine."

Feyre stalks into the kitchen, surveying the mess while Nyx is in her arms fussing.

"Yeah. Sorry I ... "

"Are you okay?"

Elaine looks up to see her sisters grimace, with wide eyes. She bounces her nephew on her hip, his little dark wings flapping as his cries turn to giggles.

"I'm fine."

She tries to smile but finds her muscles stiff. Feyre looks at her with concern and sadness but immediately plasters a bright smile on her face.

"Let me help you- "

"Feyre get back, this is really sharp glass.
I got it."

Elaine continues to pick up the shards as Feyre watches her.

"Well, I just wanted to let you know-"

"I know. I'll be out there in a few."

Feyre takes in Elaine's expression less words and goes back into the living room where Lucien awaits.
She takes the towel full of the broken glass and discards it and cleans up her dough off the marble floor.
Elaine takes a deep breath as she makes her way out of the kitchen to where Lucien and Feyre are.

"Elaine."

She feels him rather than hears him.
The outer rush of joy and happiness and a little bit of arousal that shoots through their bond makes her coil into herself.
Looking down at her feet probably isn't the best type of greeting to any guest but she could care less.
However, she looks up and gives a little nod to the male and takes refuge on the floor by the crackling fire, spreading warmth into the room. A good two feet away from Lucien.