[color=lightgray] [center][h1][color=slategray]Lucian & Mina: A Touching Moment[/color][/h1]

[img]https://i.imgur.com/TjRDPFr.png[/img]

[h2]Part 1[/h2][/center]

[color=#758173]Time:[/color] 3pm, Ignis 4
[color=slategray]Location:[/color] Sorian Guesthouse
[color=#758173]Outfits:[/color] [url=https://i.pinimg.com/736x/b1/e5/80/b1e580b4e5ba78abc64a84214a81b73c.jpg]Lucian’s Outfit[/url] [url=https://i.imgur.com/6CwXUbD.png]Mina Outfit[/url]

[hr]


Lucian’s Outfit

Lucian had been out practicing with Kilian, and if he’d thought Ambrose was a tough teacher, he had nothing on Kilian. Lucian hadn’t been pushed that hard in quite some time, and he felt it in every fiber of his being. He wasn’t even sure what had carried him back to the Nobles’ lodgings, but it could only take him so far. 

He honestly had only meant to stop for a moment, let him rest his eyes, and then he’d be ready to head up to his room. But a quick resting of the eyes turned quickly into full-blown sleep as the Varian crown prince snoozed on the couch in the public rest area of their lodgings. His sword had fallen to the floor, his arms hanging haphazardly off the side. His red hair was a tousled mess as gentle breaths caused his chest to rise and fall. 

The rhythmic thud of steel hitting the floorboards broke the silence Mina had created behind the heavy velvet drapes. She let out a soft, tired sigh and marked her place in a scandalous romance novel. It served as a momentary shield against the unsettling, cold drafts that seemed to follow her even in the stillness of the room.

Peering out, her storm-blue eyes softened instantly. Lucian lay sprawled across the settee in utter exhaustion. To the court, he was the kind but guarded Crown Prince, always polite yet distant. To Mina, he resembled the boy she had once followed through Breoven, before the shadow of loss had dimmed his spark.

Setting her book aside, she stepped from her sanctuary with silent, practiced grace. She grabbed a wool-lined blanket and approached him, her heart skipping a beat she would never confess. As she draped the blanket over his broad shoulders, a soft, haunting melody escaped her lips. It was the lullaby her mother had taught her, the same one she had taught to Sophia years ago to help comfort the others when Mina wasn't around.

[color=758173]"Pushing yourself until you break, Lucie?"[/color] She murmured. Her voice was a velvety shadow of its usual sharp elegance. Her hand lingered for a moment before she moved to pick up his sword, her intent to place it on the coffee table so it wasn't a tripping hazard.

Lucian had been dreaming. The sort of soft, gentle dream he hadn’t had in a while. They were always welcomed in the moment, but left a gaping hole in his heart when he woke again. Each passing glance felt so real, it was as if he could feel her love from across the room. Sophia. She always looked at him like he was the one who placed each star in the sky for her. Her beautiful eyes watching him, as she gracefully walked across the room.

When he felt the pressure of the blanket across his body, he began to stir ever so slightly. There was a part of him still in his dream, still back there with her. So, when he opened his eyes and saw the flutter of a dress in front of him, he smiled, a slow sleepy smile. Eyes still barely half open, he reached out to grab her wrist and tugged her down over top of him. [color=slategray]“Sophia..”[/color] He mumbled softly, his voice deep and husky, as his hand reached up to her face. The rough skin of his thumb brushed over her cheek before he began to lift himself up to place his lips to hers. It was then that he realized and reality came crashing down on him like a meteor. 

Lucian jolted, pushing Mina away, a look of mixed shock and embarrassment on his face. [color=slategray]“M-Mina…”[/color] He stammered. [color=slategray]“I-”[/color] He continued, still trying to process what he’d just done. 

Mina froze as his fingers squeezed her wrist. The sudden pull brought her down until she collapsed against his chest, his scent overwhelming her senses. For one breathless second, as his thumb brushed her cheek, she allowed herself to get lost in the moment. Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned into his warmth, a wild hope igniting in her chest. It was a fantasy she had buried years ago in the dirt of Breoven.

Then, she heard the name that slipped from his lips like a curse. Sophia.

The longing was quickly replaced by sharp, jagged pain. He wasn't seeing Mina; he was reaching for a ghost. As he leaned in to close the distance for a kiss, she felt a sickening jolt. She couldn't let him do it. Not because she didn't want him to, but because she knew that when he finally saw her face instead of Sophia's, it would break him. She was already pushing against his shoulders to create space when he jolted, reality crashing back into the room.

Mina stumbled back and hit the other side of the couch with a thud. The force of his rejection stung more than the physical push. She saw the exact moment his dream died, replaced by the reality of her—just Mina. It had been so long since she'd seen him, having missed the funeral to care for her “ailing" uncle, and this was not the reunion she had imagined.

She quickly masked her expression, though the hand attached to the wrist he had grabbed shook. [color=758173]"It’s alright, Lucian,"[/color] she said, her voice steady despite the ache inside. She forced a small, practiced smile. [color=758173]"You were miles away. I just wanted to keep you from catching a chill…and prevent this from getting stepped on."[/color] She looked down at his sword, focusing on its weight as she lifted it for him to see and offer back. [color=758173]"Sophia always said you were a nightmare to wake,"[/color] she added softly, letting out a small laugh, a gentle lie to ease the tension. [color=758173]"I should have known better than to approach a sleeping lion."[/color] She grinned at him.

He heard the thud of her crashing back against the otherside of the couch and for the briefest of moments, he saw the look of shocked pain on her face. He could feel his insides wretching. The tug of emotions was disorienting, like being pulled in every direction. He was sad it wasn’t Sophia, and he felt guilty for being sad that it wasn’t Sophia because that somehow implied that Mina was less than, and then he felt guilty for feeling guilty. It was painful.

He took in a jagged breath and lifted a hand to run his fingers through his hair, getting it out of his face. He knew better than to continue apologizing. That would likely only double her own pain. [color=slategray]”Did she now?”[/color] He replied, trying to force himself laugh, but all that came out was a dry, forced sound. 

He offered her a small smile as he replied, [color=slategray]”No, you should feel perfectly safe to approach this sleeping lion, Mini.”[/color] He pushed himself up the rest of the way before he took the sword back from her. He lifted it, feeling the strain in his own arms and set it to the side, leaning against the wall. 

[color=slategray]”Thank you, by the way. For doing that.”[/color] He offered, a bit of his usual warmth coming back to his tone. He’d always seen Mina as part of his family, so being able to see her again really was something that brought him comfort, aside from whatever just happened a moment ago. 

[color=slategray]”How have you been?”[/color] He asked, looking her over. How long had it been? He couldn’t recall. She had certainly grown up in the time he hadn’t seen her. Even for a man whose heart died long ago, he could tell she was a beauty. Although more than that, there was an intelligent fire in her eye, something he’d always found attractive.

The sound of the nickname caught Mina off guard, her heart stumbling in her chest as if it had forgotten its rhythm. Mini. The name was delicate, a slender thread reaching back to a time when she had not needed to hide behind measured words and polite smiles. For a brief moment, the ache of that lost self pressed in around her, heavy and familiar, but she pushed it aside, tucking the hurt away into the quiet corners of her mind with the same careful discipline she had learned as a Blackwood.

[color=758173]"You say that, but you nearly tossed me halfway across the room, Lucie,"[/color] she replied, her tone lightening as a teasing lilt crept back in. She stuck her tongue out at him, a fleeting echo of the girl she had been in Breoven, before sinking back into the cushions. Her fingers smoothed her skirts, careful and deliberate, hoping he would not notice the faint tremble in her hands.

[color=758173]"I've been... managing,"[/color] she lied smoothly, her mind flashing to her uncle’s blood-stained sheets and the ghosts she’d been trying to ignore. [color=758173]"Kolonivka is quiet, and Uncle Sebastian’s health requires much of my attention. I’m sorry I couldn't be there... when it happened. I truly wanted to be."[/color]

She looked at him then, her storm-blue eyes searching his face with a gentle warmth that slipped past the careful mask she wore. [color=758173]"But just look at you. Whoever is training you must be running you ragged; you look as though you’ve been wrestling bears. How are the girls? Marnie and Sylvie? Are they here too? I’ve missed their chaos almost as much as I’ve missed our debates over terrible poetry."[/color]

He felt another jolt of guilt through his gut when she mentioned how he’d pushed her. He felt the urge to defend himself, but his words caught before they ever had the chance to bubble from his throat. He wasn’t even sure he [i]could[/i] defend himself. She was right, he’d nearly knocked her across the room once he’d come to. An impulse. One he regretted, but wasn’t sure he could have stopped. 

He smiled at her cheeky tongue, enjoying the little reminder of their shared memories. He’d always enjoyed her company, even if she could be just as much of a brat as Sylvie. 

He noted the slight pause before her answer. He knew that look all too well. He’d had to force himself too many times to count. It was the sign of deliberate thought, of a decided, measured response. She was hiding something, either from him, herself, or both.

[color=slategray]”I’m sorry to hear he hasn’t improved.”[/color] He remarked. His head tilted just slightly as he watched her face. Strangely, her mention of Sophia’s death didn’t hit him as harshly as it had so many other times. His focus was on Mina’s pain, her worries. He could tell there was more beneath the surface, though he wasn’t sure he was the right person to pry.

[color=slategray]”Wrestling a bear… Not too far off.”[/color] He chuckled, a genuine smile gracing his angular features. [color=slategray]”Oh, they’re doing well. Both have followed me here. Mother sent me to find a bride, Marnie followed to shadow me, and Sylvie… to be honest, I can’t remember if she’s here to follow Marnie or if our parents sent her. Askel is here too. Again, not entirely sure why.”[/color] He explained, shrugging at her lightly. 

[color=slategray]”I still think that line about the dove was genius.”[/color] He added, a rare smile spreading across his face. 

Mina gave a small, resigned shrug, her expression momentarily distant. [color=758173]"One grows accustomed to the shadows, I suppose. I've come to terms with the fact that I will either find a cure myself or I will lose him. There isn't much room for anything in between."[/color] She shook the heavy thought away, forcing her focus back to the present.

[color=758173]"But Marnie and Sylvie are here?"[/color] Her voice lifted with genuine excitement. [color=758173]"And Askel too? Gods, the lodgings won't know what hit them. I shall have to find Marnie and Askel the moment I leave here; I’ve missed her chaos terribly and I’ve missed Askel in general."[/color]

She moved a little closer on the settee, her posture easing as she nudged his arm in gentle jest. There was a warmth in her eyes, a fondness that spoke of years spent together. [color=758173]"Searching for a bride... it still sounds odd to me, Lucie. I only hope she understands how fortunate she is. Of course, she’ll have quite the task ahead, keeping you from leaping into every fire you see in the name of someone else’s troubles."[/color]

She laughed then, a bright sound that bypassed her mask as she shook her head at his final comment. [color=758173]"Genius? Lucian, the poet compared a dove’s wings to a 'flapping linen laundry sheet.' It was atrocious, and I will stand by that until the day I die. Even 'a heartbeat fluttering against the cage of the ribs' would have been better than laundry."[/color]

Her gaze lingered on him, and she was struck by the quiet realization that she had not felt this kind of happiness in quite some time. Moved by a sudden wave of nostalgia, she reached up and ruffled his untidy auburn hair, a gesture she had not allowed herself in years.

Lucian couldn’t help but notice that look in her face. There was a twinge of something in the back of his head, like looking into a mirror but not liking what you saw. If she was anything like him, she was willing to do just about anything for that cure and that worried him. 

[color=slategray]“The Lodgings will have their hands full, for sure. Ambrose is here too, so he should help keep them at least moderately in check. Probably.”[/color] He spoke, an uncertainty in his tone. [color=slategray]”She’ll be very excited to see you too.”[/color] He smiled, thinking about the smile on her face when she saw Mina. 

Hearing Mina talk about his search for a wife brought a painful pang to his chest. He smiled at her and nodded. [color=slategray]”We shall have to see.”[/color] He replied simply. He had no real interest in seriously looking for a wife right now. He [i]needed[/i] to make the world a safer place for her, whoever she might be. For now, he needed to focus on the people around him. 

[color=slategray]”What? I like the little moments, like flapping sheets of linen.”[/color] He chuckled, his smile bright and for once, completely genuine. Those memories were some of his favorites. He truly loved the quiet, simple moments and Mina was good at that with him. She wasn’t quite as chaotic as his siblings, at least not all the time. She certainly fed into Marnie and Sylvia’s energy sometimes. 

Lucian saw her reaching her hand over to him and it took him a beat to understand what she was doing. His eyes went wide and his heart seemed to crash against his own ribcage, as if trying to escape. He had time, if he wanted, to pull away. But, there was something inside of him that wanted this, needed it with a desperation he hadn’t even realized. He felt a heat rise to his cheeks as she ruffled his hair and could feel his short-circuited brain trying to come back from wherever this had sent him. It felt like he couldn’t breathe for a moment. He felt himself leaning closer to her. 

The quiet of the sitting room was broken by the sudden, sharp sound of his breath, so loud that it seemed to echo in the stillness and sent a faint shiver up Mina’s arm. The playful mask she wore slipped, her composure wavering for just a moment.

It had only been meant as a sisterly gesture, a small attempt to reach back toward the uncomplicated days of their youth, before her world had become tangled in secrets and shadows. Yet as Lucian leaned into her touch, his eyes wide and searching, she found herself unable to withdraw. Her thumb moved of its own accord, tracing the line of his jaw in a gentle, almost absentminded caress. Her heart thudded wildly in her chest, a rhythm she could not quiet. Better than laundry sheets, she thought, a wry echo of her earlier criticism of the poem slipping through her mind.

[color=758173]"Lucie..."[/color] Her voice was a mere breath, losing its sharp, aristocratic edge as she leaned in a fraction closer.

Panic, cold and familiar, began to claw at her throat. She shouldn't be doing this. She was a woman of "questionable reputation," a creature of the dark who spent her nights drugging men in velvet-lined rooms. She was a Blackwood, cursed to see things that weren't there and bound to the survival of a monster. She was in no position to offer him, or herself, anything that wasn't tainted.

[color=758173]"You've gone quite still,"[/color] she murmured, her eyes dropping to his lips for a fraction of a second before she forced herself to meet his gaze. She tried to summon her usual languid charm, but her voice was thick. [color=758173]"Have I shocked you so much? Or have you simply forgotten that I’m capable of affection that doesn’t involve a barbed comment?"[/color]

It was only then that her mind caught up to something he had said—a name, Ambrose. The memory struck her with a force that left her breathless, recalling the night she had been forced to break his heart for the sake of his own safety, to keep her uncle’s gaze from settling on him. And then there was Munir, the most recent in a line of men she had been compelled to push away, always for their own good. Always to keep them alive. If she allowed Lucian to draw any nearer, would she be forced to destroy him as well? Could she bear to do it a third time? The thought twisted inside her, and she wondered if she could ever bring herself to hurt him, or if he would even allow her that close.

Reality returned, cold and heavy, settling over her like a damp shroud. Her fingers trembled where they rested against his skin, and she began to draw her hand back, her eyes darting away as though the brightness in his gaze was suddenly too much to face.

[color=758173]“I’m sorry,”[/color] she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath as she began to retreat, her heart still pounding an uneven, desperate rhythm. [color=758173]“I shouldn’t have… I…”[/color]

Her words faded, her hand lingering uncertainly in the narrow space between them, suspended as she waited for him to either let her slip away or close the distance himself.

Her touch left a trail of warmth he hadn’t felt in ages. It wasn’t something he’d even considered or thought about. He was certain she could hear, truly [i]hear[/i] his heart beating like a frenzied bird. Everything slowed to a still as if time itself had slowed. Her voice calling to him, the warmth and care it carried. 

He opened his mouth as if to speak to her, but couldn’t find his voice, couldn’t find the words. He [i]was[/i] shocked, just not at her. Shocked more at his heart that had seemed to find its beat again. He couldn’t tell if it was just because it had been so long since he felt anything remotely close to this or what, but deep down, in the darkest parts of him, he feared that if he let it go now, he might never get this feeling back. 

He felt her pull away, and his heart sank. There was a desperation in his throat, lodged there, choking him. He could feel her fingers trembling, felt the warmth fade and it hurt. It actually hurt, like pinpricks in his heart. It was a split second that felt like an eternity. Lucian knew that he couldn’t let this warmth go, and his window to pull it back in was closing quickly. 

Before he could even consider the consequences, he was moving. One hand reached for hers, tugging her back to him. [color=slategray]”Please…”[/color] He begged, his voice low and thick. His other hand reached up to her face, his callused thumb brushing lightly over her cheeks. 

Moving entirely on impulse and his unconscious desire for her warmth, Lucian pushed himself forward, his head tilted just slightly. His lips stopped very briefly before hers, a pause, before he closed the distance completely. 

The instant his lips touched hers, the world beyond the small sitting room seemed to fade away, leaving only warmth and a hush that pressed in around them.

This was nothing like the careful, calculated kisses she had given to men she meant to drug. No, those had been a mask, a means to an end. This was something else entirely. The touch of his mouth sent a shiver through her, a warmth that curled her toes inside her boots. For a moment, Mina forgot how to breathe at all. This was the warmth she had longed for in the cold corridors of Kolonivka, the light she had watched from the shadows for so many years.

A chorus of voices shrieked in the back of her mind—her uncle’s warnings, the judgmental whispers of the court calling her a whore, the pale memories of the ghosts who reminded her she was tainted. [i]You will ruin him,[/i] they hissed. [i]Does he even want you? Or is he just so hollowed out by his own burdens that he is reaching for the nearest source of heat?[/i]

The thought ought to have stung, but as she felt the quiet desperation in his touch and remembered that singular pleading word, a familiar, sorrowful resolve settled over her. It struck her, with a clarity that was both beautiful and devastating, that she didn't care why he was doing it.

It did not matter whether he loved her or was simply using her to feel alive again. She had always been his sacrificial lamb, even if he never realised it. She had spent years quietly guiding him, teaching him how to win Sophia’s heart if he ever wished, all the while pushing him toward another’s arms as her own chest felt like it was being hollowed out with a rusted blade. She had always broken herself so he could have what he wanted. If he needed this from her now, if he needed to consume her to feel a flicker of warmth in his own darkness, she would let him. She would give him every breath, every spark of her strength, every piece of herself, until there was nothing left but ash.

A quiet, broken sound escaped her as her resistance gave way. She did not simply return his kiss; she yielded to it. Her fingers found his hair, holding him close, her body pressing to his with a hunger she could no longer hide. She was greedy for him, starved for this closeness, her lips moving against his with a need that ignored all the rules she had been taught.

She would not be the one to end this. She would not pull away. She would remain in this fire until he decided he was done with her, even if it meant she would wake tomorrow more hollow than before. She poured years of silent longing, of stifled cries and hidden tears, into the kiss, meeting his need with a devotion so absolute it was terrifying. For this one moment, she was not a protector, not a witch, not a niece; she was simply his, in whatever way he needed her to be.

It spread over him like the warmth from a fireplace. If he were clear headed, he might have stopped this. If he hadn’t been so starved for this kind of warmth, he might have stopped himself. If he were a better man, he wouldn’t be doing this to her. His head had gone fuzzy and he’d lost all sense of reason. 

It was intoxicating. [i]She[/i] was intoxicating. He felt her relax into him and the hand around hers loosened as he reached over to her side, holding her close. A quiet shiver ran down his spine as he felt her fingers carding through his hair. He could drown in her and would thank her for it.

His breathing staggered as he pulled away just long enough to catch his breath, the heat between them palpable. This was a mistake, something he shouldn’t be doing to her. If someone walked in… He heard the rustling of leaves outside and it startled him, tugging his attention from Mina to the window. He could already feel the shadows creeping in again, threatening to overwhelm him but he shouldn’t be doing this to her, not Mina. 

Once again, he felt a lump in his throat and a weight in his chest. [color=slategray]”Mina..”[/color] He started, a furrow in his brow as he looked at her. There was sorrow in his eyes. He was sad that he needed to stop this for her sake, and ashamed of himself for allowing himself the chance. [color=slategray]”I shouldn’t be doing this to you…”[/color] He spoke, turning his head again to look at her. 

His hands remained at either side of her face, cupping them gently in his rough palms. Mina was something precious, something he shouldn’t taint and mar with his own darkness. Especially when he didn’t know if this was anything more than his own desperate need for affection. 

Slowly, hesitantly, he pulled away. He’d felt the raw emotion she had given, and understood enough to know what her body yielding to him meant. Had he never realized? Looking back, he only ever saw that little girl, the childhood friend he protected like a sister. But… what sort of feelings had she been hiding from him all this time? Had it been all this time? Or was she like him, desperate for warmth, for the touch of another person. His mind swirled now. 

He looked over her face, his brows still furrowed. He had crossed a line he couldn’t uncross now and there was a small part of him that was glad for it. Larger than that was the shame. He wanted to ask her, how long had she felt this way, but he couldn’t bring himself to. The idea of it hurt far too much. He knew the length she had gone to, the assistance she had given him in courting Sophia and the idea of her doing that all while harboring feelings for him…

[color=slategray]”I should… walk you to your room…”[/color] He spoke, standing up now. He’d hesitated for a moment, trying to consider if he should just leave or escort her. There was some small part of him that wanted to stay by her side, figure this out, somewhere less… visible. 

The cold air that rushed into the space between them as he pulled away felt like a physical blow, more biting than any winter wind. As Mina watched the sorrow and shame etch themselves into Lucian’s brow, she felt the first hairline fractures spider-webbing across her heart.

His words cut at her, but not in the way he might have thought. Mina did not see a prince trying to protect her reputation. She saw a man who had only reached for her because he was lonely, and now regretted it. The shame in his eyes was not for what they had done, but for who he had done it with. She understood, even if it stung, that he was only looking for a moment of comfort, and now he was horrified to realize he had used a friend he did not love just to feel alive for a little while.

Mina stood, her hands dropping to her lap before she made herself smooth the folds of her deep red skirts. She looked up at Lucian, her face open and honest, though she could feel how fragile she must have seemed.

[color=758173]"Lucian, stop,"[/color] she said softly, her voice trembling before she caught it. [color=758173]"Do not look at me with such... pity. Or shame. It is beneath you."[/color]

She forced a bitter, weary smile to her lips, hardening her mask to provide him the exit he so clearly needed. [color=758173]"Don't be ashamed of needing warmth, Lucie. Gods know there's little enough of it in this world."[/color] She paused, her eyes searching his with a tragic sort of resignation. [color=758173]"And truly... who better to take that warmth from than the 'Whore of Varian'? At least with me, you needn't worry about the consequences of a heart being involved, right? I’ve already been ruined, you can hardly make it worse by using me for a moment’s peace."[/color]

The words felt bitter in her mouth. She had not meant them to be cruel or accusatory. Instead, she was trying to make it easier for him, offering herself as someone he could turn to without guilt, so he would not have to carry the weight of the feelings she had kept hidden for so many years.

When he offered to walk her back, Mina noticed the way he hesitated, as if he only wanted to make sure she was safely behind a door so he could leave. The thought stung, but she was not ready to be alone just yet. Even if he only wanted to be rid of her, she would take a few more minutes with him by her side.

[color=758173]"If you insist on being the gentleman, then yes,"[/color] she murmured, her voice losing its edge as she stepped toward the hallway. She looked back at him, her eyes dark and dangerously self-destructive. [color=758173]"And Lucie? If you find the silence of your own room too cold tonight... you’re welcome to seek more 'warmth' in mine. I promise not to hold it against your conscience in the morning."[/color]

It was a harsh offer, meant to make her seem as empty as the rumors claimed, even though it hurt to say it. Her eyes gave her away, no matter how steady her voice. She waited for him to move, her heart beating unevenly in her chest.
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