A Court of Flame and Shadow (Azriel x eris)

Chapter 23: Lucien

Thursday, June 20th, One day before Lucien would wed his one true love.

"Holy shit Cassian, I am not placing a bet on my own wedding. I do not care if you and anyone else wants to, but would you stop asking?" Sweat coated Lucien's palms as he turned to Azriel. "Are you packed? We're leaving in ten minutes. And where is Elain?" Azriel shrugged sleepily, leaning heavily on frowning Mors shoulder. 

"Then go find her, please." He snapped.

A set of three people finally appeared in the middle of the foyer. Rhysand back with Vassa and Jurian, who were each carrying a suitcase.

"Hey Lulu!" Vassa beamed at him, rushing forward to embrace him. 

"Hey Vassa. Hey Jurian." He waved to his friend over her shoulder. 

"Hi. What do you want us to do?" Jurian asked, pulling a ditzy Vassa off him. 

"Stay out of the way. We are leaving soon, so if you just put your bags with the rest of it, Rhys will make sure it arrives." Jurian nodded, tugging Vassa into the living room.

"Lulu?" Cassian snorted. Lucien turned to him, where he was standing wide-eyed beside Nesta. "Can you two make sure they know what is happening today and tomorrow?" They nodded and rushed after the human-land party.

"Meredith, you make sure Azriel's doing what I told him?" The giggling young Fae hurried up the stairs, red hair flying after.

"And Mor, Emerie is...?"

"In the garden, getting the flower baskets." Emerie would be wheeling Nyx, who was the flowerboy, down the isle. 

"Can you go help her?" Mor nodded, leaving eagerly, probably excited at the chance to be near the Illyrian. 

Lucien turned to the last two people standing in the foyer. "Where are Varian and Amren?"

Feyre glanced up at Rhys, who pressed his lips together. "They should be here soon." She said quietly.

Letting out a long breath, Lucien commanded Rhys to get Nyx ready, leaving him in the foyer with Feyre.

The door opened, and Gwyn walked in, glanced at Lucien's face for a moment, caught Feyres eye, and hurried to the others.

"Are you okay?" Feyre murmured, moving closer.

"Very hot." He mumbled, leaning against the wall.

Feyre gently wrapped her arms around him. "Do not fear, Lucien. Everything will go according to plan."

"Mmh." Even his mumbling made him sound doubtful, which he of course was. So far, nothing had gone to plan. At this point, in the mental plan he had made, they were all meant to be sitting in the lounge room, talking, waiting for the clock to chime four, at which time they would leave. Instead, no one was ready, and his bride-to-be was nowhere to be found. 

A pair of footsteps entered the room, and Lucien looked up to see the shockingly short Amren, and the irritatingly tall Varian, the former looking reproachful, the latter, slightly fearful.

"Where were you?" Lucien demanded, directing his question at the prince, rather than facing the wrath of Amren.

Varian's eyes widened. "We got caught up." He said quickly. Too quickly.

"What the hell does that mean?" Lucien cried, but he suspected he already knew the answer. 

"There was a flood downtown." Varian explained.

"You live in the Summer Court. How the hell does it flood?"

He shrugged. "We've been getting a lot of rain recently."

"That better be true, ceiling-licker." Lucien growled, turning whoever was descending the stairs, which turned out to be Elain, and her Man of Honor. 

Elain was dressed in a gauzy purple dress that perfectly complimented her warm colouring. Her hair was loosely curled at her shoulders. 

"What took you so long?" Lucien's tone softened as he approached. 

"I was just finishing my hair. I wanted to look nice to dine with your family." Elain explained gently.

"You look stunning, my dear."

"Will we be leaving soon?" She asked, twirling her curls. 

"Yes. Vassa and Jurian have arrived, they are in the lounge room with Cass and Nes, could you wait with them? I'm just getting everyone together."

She placed a kiss on his cheek, drifting off to the lounge room, followed by Azriel.

He turned, briskly directing Amren and Varian to the luggage pile, and then the lounge room. Feyre followed them, squeezing his shoulder on the way.  

Mor and Emerie walked in from the door to the garden, laughing at something one of them had said. In their hands, they clutched wicker basket and vases full of many different kinds of flowers, some to throw down the isle, some for table arrangements. The flowers joined the pile of suitcases, and the pair of females joined the loungeroom at Lucien's direction.

Finally, Rhys arrived at the bottom of the stairs, cradling his son. 

"Alright?" He smiled and Lucien, who was leaning heavily on a wall.

"Yeah." Rhys turned into the other room, leaving Lucien alone in the once again empty foyer. 

Taking a shaky breath, he pushed off the wall, and walked to the archway. Resting on the biggest couch, giggling and blushing, sat his soon-to-be wife. It seemed like, finally, all the pieces of his life were falling into place.