Note: This is experimental, but hopefully still makes sense. It’s not really explicit that it’s about Elucien or ACOTAR ( I don’t use any names, titles, etc, from the books) but if you’ve read the books then it should click (hopefully). I would appreciate any feedback on it as it’s a little odd and I am not sure how well it flows and how confusing it might be. (It’s a first for me.)

Song Inspiration — Between Two Lungs - Florence and the Machine 

Thank you for reading and have a comfortable day. 

AO3 link, if that’s where you prefer to read.

Her garden was a dreamland. They stood side by side before her tapestry of petals, leaves and stems, grass and roots woven by her hands, grown from her heart. The sun could never stay away, forever giving its warmth for the plants to rejoice. A dream that lived in day. No secrecy between the dark, no bargains with the stars. A dream that lived in day. A dance with sunlight, an embrace with flowers.

They stood in each other’s blissful company. Nothing more was needed.

She placed her hand in his own, curling around him like vines. He smiled, gleaming like the sun. Their eyes had yet to meet. And now they turned their faces towards each other but—

Her hand was gone from his own. He now faced her but saw a distance of a thousand moons put between them. The garden now a labyrinth. Cold, dark, and black. Such darkness only lived in night. Her brown eyes swallowed by it. His golden eyes beaten by it.

To reach each other they would have to cross the labyrinth and meet on its other side. Walking through the labyrinth, discovering its pathways, coming upon its dead ends, brushing with its thorns—such a pleasure all at the expense of them.

But had it not been enough? The world was once their labyrinth, they once were their own labyrinth. They’d cross seas of waters and stars, lands brown and black so they could find each other.

Never again their hearts would bleed.

To their other side, they each had an arched pathway that went around the labyrinth. They would each take it. Simple and without the snarling teeth of the labyrinth. Light still shone there. Flowers still bloomed there. They would not bow.

They set forth on their separate paths

The sun above her was a guiding hand.

The flowers below him were like a map.

They walked and walked and walked but the pathways only began and began and began.

Her only comfort was the top of his hair that she could see. A shade of luminous red that seemed like a skipping fox.

His only comfort was the top of her hair that he could see. A shade of soft brown hair that seemed like a trotting fawn.

At last, they reached the curb of the paths. The biggest distance between them. It would soon be behind them at the drop of two feet. Nothing but the ever-closing proximity of them laid ahead.

Still, in the middle of the day.

The sun grew cold and the flowers began to sleep.

Night was upon them.
It was not amused; they ignored its labyrinth of darkness. As punishment—

Her sun was swallowed by the dark of the night and the greed of a thousand stars.

Wavering; warmth ripped from her blood. The lull of the night froze her bones. Yet, her eyes could still see so she could still feel.

He looked to where the sun once stood and saw the moon instead and so he held the fallen sun. He wanted to put it back in the sky and with the sun above his head,
his knees staggering, his elbows buckling,
as the night was prowling for the dust and whispers that couldn’t live in the day,
He dared defy the night.

Their love was not a lullaby of dust and whispers for the night it was a dance of mountains and screams for the day.

He pushed the sun up high, but this close it started to burn him. Now vines and leaves embraced him. The sun was too hot so they reached to touch the light in his heart, and once they took their sip they grew and grew and grew up towards the sun. Shading him before he burned too bright.

The night’s mouth gaped in terror. And the stars began to flee leaving the darkness to be swallowed whole.

At last the sun was back in the sky
Yet, the moon would not leave
So he ripped the last piece of the night
And the moon began to bleed.

It dripped into the land, watering it. The nourished soil swallowed the labyrinth and sprung a fire of flowers, blooming bright and fierce, unwavering and unapologetically laying their roots above the labyrinth, their stems reaching and reaching towards the sun. And the sun laced its rays with their petals. A tether between color and light, sun and earth. For color was best seen in the light and all light wanted to see was color.

The air from her gasp became the wind beneath her feet. As she sprung into the day, flourishing under its warm and careful gaze.
He came back down to earth, rooted by its soft and tender grasp.

The fox began to chase the fawn. A ritual.
They ran through a dreamland, laid in its beds of grass, touched the roots of its trees, kissed the petals of its flowers.
Her smile breaking her face as dawn rips the shadows of a lingering night.
His gaze is as blazing as a dawn that ends a cold night.

Their laughter birthed a thousand skies.
Their feet trembled a hundred lands.
Their lungs seized ten breaths.
Their eyes saw one sight.

Petals and roots, leaves and stems. Pink, yellow, blue and gold. Green, purple, brown and red. Teal, violet, rose and white. Orange, indigo, peach and jade.
Like their subjects beneath their crowns of sunlight and thrones of vines.

Face to face they would rule as equals.
Their foreheads gently pressed together. Their hands carelessly laced together.
The incandescent bloom of spring.