Hope Griffin Diaz

“But even now there is hope left. I will not give you counsel, saying do this or do that. for not in doing or contriving, nor in choosing between this course and another, can I avail; but only in knowing what was and is, and in part what shall be. But this I will say to you: your Quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all. Yet hop remains while all the Company is true.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

“Her eyes were the brown of a fawn's coat. And he could have sworn something sparked in them as she met his gaze.

'Who are you?'

He knew without demanding clarification that she was aware of what he was to her.

'I am Lucien. Seventh son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court.'

And a whole lot of nothing.
...
For a long moment, Elain's face did not shift, but those eyes seemed to focus a bit more. 'Lucien,' she said at last, and he clenched his teacup to keep from shuddering at the sound of his name on her mouth. 'From my sister's stories. Her friend.'

'Yes.'

But Elain blinked slowly. 'You were in Hybern.'

'Yes.' It was all he could say.

'You betrayed us.'

He wished she'd shoved him out the window behind her. 'It- it was a mistake.'

Her eyes were frank and cold. 'I was to be married in a few days.'

He fought against the bristling rage, the irrational urge to find the male who'd claimed her and shred him apart. The words were a rasp as he instead said, 'I know. I'm sorry.'

She did not love him, want him, need him. Another male's bride.

A mortal man's wife. Or she would have been.

She looked away- toward the windows. 'I can hear your heart,' she said quietly.

He wasn't sure how to respond, so he said nothing, and drained his tea, even as it burned his mouth.

'When I sleep,' she murmured, 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' She angled her head, as if the city view held some answer. 'Can you hear mine?'

He wasn't sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, 'No, lady. I cannot.'

Her too-thin shoulders seemed to curve inward. 'No one ever does. No one ever looked- not really.' A bramble of words. Her voice strained to a whisper. 'He did. He saw me. He will not now.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“Tam would gut me if he caught you drinking that.”
“Always looking after your best interests,” I said, and pointedly chugged the contents of the glass.
It was like a million fireworks exploding inside me, filling my veins with starlight. I laughed aloud, and Lucien groaned.
“Human fool,” he hissed. But his glamour had been ripped away. His auburn hair burned like hot metal, and his russet eye smoldered like a bottomless forge. That was what I would capture next.
“I’m going to paint you,” I said, and giggled—actually giggled—as the words popped out.
“Cauldron boil and fry me,” he muttered, and I laughed again.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“I stepped forward, and didn't give Lucien time to step back as I hugged him tightly. 'Thank you,' I said, trying not to think about all the steel on him- if he'd need to use it.

'It was time,' Lucien said quietly, giving me a squeeze. 'For me to do something.'

I pulled away, surveying his scarred face. 'Thank you,' I said again. It was all I could think of to say.

Rhys extended a hand to Lucien.

Lucien studied it- then my mate's face. I could nearly see all the hateful words they'd spoken. Dangling between them, between that outstretched hand and Lucien's own.

But Lucien took Rhys's hand. That silent offer of not only transportation.

Before that dark wind swept in, Lucien looked back.

Not to me, I realised- to someone behind me.

Pale and thin, Elain stood atop the stairs.

Their gazes locked and held.

But Elain said nothing. Did not so much as take one step downward.

Lucien inclined his head in a bow, the movement hiding the gleam in his eye- the longing and sadness.

And when Lucien turned to signal to Rhys to go... He did not glance back at Elain.

Did not see the half step she took toward the stairs- as if she'd speak to him. Stop him.

Then Rhys was gone, and Lucien with him.

When I turned to offer Elain breakfast, she'd already walked away.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin