hey guys this is my take on ACOMAF when Feyre was taken, but in Lucien's POV. Enjoy. Give a review and let me know where I made a mistake or just your thoughts!

The activity on the western sea border was dealt efficiently and with precision. Hybren was getting more cocky by the week. Not enough to raise any alarms but enough to make the people of Phrythian worry. To start the gossip that the High Lord of Spring was trying desperately to contain.

Emissary of the High Lord of Spring and son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court stood beside his Lord and master Tamlin, trying not to cringe or back away from him.

He doesn't show even the smallest bits of remorse. How can he? How can he lock Feyre up like some animal because she wants to help? How can he forbid her to escape from her nightmares from Under The Mountain? While he was as desperate as her to escape his own.

The memory had tortured him every second since he had left her inside of that house. He feared in which state she would be in when he and Tamlin returned. If she would be completely shattered or had lost her mind. But being honest with himself, Lucien's mind wasn't far behind. He wishes that he had the courage to have stood his ground. To have the courage to say directly to Tamlin that he was wrong, that this was so wrong.

But like the coward he was, he had backed down as soon as the memory of the twenty lashes he had received from him had played in his mind. Right alongside the memory of his brothers forcing him to watch while his father crushed the heart of the love of his live. He knew. He knew that he will never forget that day, the moment he heard her heart stop, just like he knew he would never forget this day. The day he saw that look on Feyre's face.

She hit the invisible shield again. Again. Not even scratching the magic keeping it in place.

"Just - be patient, Feyre." he had tried, wincing when his feet starting to follow the ones of Tamlin. "Please. I'll see what I can do. I'll try again."

She didn't acknowledge him nor his words. It seemed that she didn't even see him anymore. That she was being swallowed by her nightmares and fears. She was looking at him without seeing him. And the look made him absolutely terrified.

Her eyes bore no tears but her gaze was so wild, so afraid and wild. He saw the shattering that was happening within her. And then, only then did he finally saw her. The cheekbones that were too sharp, the hollowness of her cheeks, her slightly but disturbing sunken in eyes. The paleness of her skin and the thinning and dulling of her hair.

How much weight has she lost? How in the Cauldron's name has he not noticed? He and Tamlin. How?

Then he had walked out of the gates and had winnowed after Tamlin to deal whatever unimportant horseshit from Hybern. Lucien could not make himself focus on the most simple tasks, earning him a threatening growl and flashing of teeth from Tamlin. He knew that he was needed that Tamlin needed him. but … he simply couldn't.

"Tamlin -"

"What, Lucien?" Tamlin growled, barely human. With the whole day being about Hybern, Feyre and himself, Tamlin scent was burning with rage and annoyance. Enough so that the Spring Court citizens turned back from where they came from to avoid their High Lord's foul mood.

Smart people.

"I know that today was bad, but yo- we shouldn't have left Feyre like that. She is only trying to help. We should allow her to help us, if she was traine-"

A violent growl ripped from Tamlin throat, a growl only his most basic territorial High Fae side could produce. "Do not even go there Lucien. Don't even try."

And like a coward, he did.

xXx

Tamlin and himself winnowed back to the manor within the same day. Tamlin had known that he wouldn't be as much use as a diplomat, so he had given in into his beast self and dealt it with the bloody but quickest way possible. Lucien winced at the horrific scene he had left behind, yelling at anyone who had ears that this was the fate for those who sheltered Hybern forces.

Standing outside of the gates of his home, Lucien felt that something was off. really, really off. Tamlin sensing it too, made quick work of punching out his claws, the sweet warm wind swishing between the lethal grace of each claw. He bent his knees slightly and moved slowly forward, searching for enemies within his own house and sanctuary. Lucien followed him, two shiny daggers in his hands and watching his High Lord back.

They knew for certain that something was wrong when they found the three sentries sprawled facedown on the front drive their swords half drawn and their footprints suggesting that they got in a hurry to get inside the manor before they were knocked out. But what worried him and Tamlin the most was the metallic tang of magic clinging to their clothes.

Metallic magic with the scent of the night.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit!

Lucien had the visions of what could've happened. Every single one was worse than the last.

The spymaster Azriel had acted in the order of his High Lord and ordered his spies to stop hiding and "go play".

General Cassian had been bored and knowing it would please himself but mostly his master, attacked when they never thought they would attack and start the war long brewing between Spring and Night.

Feyre's magic acting on instinct shredding the house apart, everything in it included, even her.

He and Tamlin entered the manor, Lucien, feeling like a stranger in his own home, wisely kept his mouth shut while they saw more sentries face-down, unconscious. Every living thing has been ripped away, even the flowers were withered. All except one.

Alis stood among the mess of bodies and dying plants, exactly where the stench of Night Court magic was strongest. Standing proudly with her chin raised, shoulders back, spine straight. Her eyes were fierce but also afraid, just like her scent. She watched us with those wise eyes full of grieve and stepped aside, revealing a burned and shredded part of the carpet, only leaving an ashy ground.

A briese of wind come from somewhere he did not see and carries the echo of the magic from the spot.

The scent hit him like a brick to the face.

Feyre.

This was feyre's magic, the scent of her woven into the ancient metallic power.

Tamlin face went from deadly calm, to fearful panic. His mouth hang open and closed, processing what the evidence said before him.

'Lady Feyre used her magic abilities, I don't know wich one so don't bother to ask, to make herself invisible. Every sentry runned into the manor, looking for her. We could not find her, not until she came.'Alis took a shuddering breath and Lucien wondered which monster from that cauldron-blasted court was sent. Which animal had the sheer nerve of invading a High Lord's home and take his betrothed.

'She was tall and blond, she did not introduce herself, she only walked to this spot and carried Lady Feyre out, saying how lucky we were that you, the High Lord of Spring, was away. And… ' Alis swallowed loudly her scent spiking with the bitter taste of fear 'Then she took Lady Feyre, I asked her to take care of her.'

Breathless silence wrapped around them, muffling every thought that had occurred in Lucien's head that day. Feyre…

Feyre was gone, taken. And how much he hated to admit it, he maybe needed to say - he choked on the word - saved. It had been so clear that she wanted to leave, so clear that she was not happy here anymore. That she wanted out. Out of this manor, out of her nightmares, out to be useful. That she did not wish to be here anymore. But to be in the Night Court… the court of betrayal, killings, torture and death. Lucien didn't know in which state Feyre was right now, but being there. In that court where people were killed just because their High Lord was bored. It wasn't right, she could have gone to any court, any court. And the High Lords who were in debt to her for the rest of their eternal lives would have welcomed her.

Soft snarls sounded from him and Tamlin. The man looked at each other, communicating with each other without using words.

I will get men, men we can trust and bring them to the study.

Do that, I - I need to…

Again a snarl ripped from his throat rattling the windows from the manor. Tamlin, High Lord of the mighty Spring Court, strolled out of the room, slamming the door hard enough that the wood shattered. The only warning Lucien and every other High Fae in this manor received before Hell broke lose.

xXx

This manor had been many times been sacked by its master, but never in his long service had Lucien seen this much damage.

Entire walls had been brought down, windows shattered by the angered growls of the beast-form, tables had been ripped in two. The unstoppable rage of the gold beast had lasted an hour - which surprised Lucien he remembered times when his master would destroy from dawn to dusk - before Tamlin shifted and barked an order to the nearest servant to clean this mess up. The servant, shaking so badly his bones could splinter, scrambled to do his bidding. Tamlin gave Lucien one sharp look before entering a study which almost never used and spared.

Lucien turned on the heel of foot and personally summoned four guards who were skilled in death and stealth, two of which Feyre had already met. He thought that maybe it will help them out if that whoring prick of a High Lord, had taken Feyre's mind as his own. He prayed to the Cauldron that it wouldn't come to that, but he needed to take every possibility in mind and make a plan for every single one of them.

Tamlin plowed to his desk, with his back still on him and the four guards. Lines of sorrow and worry were etched into every inch of him. Tamlin sighed deeply before turning to him, eyes weary, he said; 'I assume you know why I summoned you here, and I know I ask a great deal of you but if -' Tamlin swallowed, his eyes taking a fierce flame as light, 'When - When you retrieve Lady Feyre, I will grant you a wish. You can wish for anything if it does not involve my crown as High Lord of the Spring Court or any other power scheming, I will grant it.' Tamlin looked at each of the guards, knowing that Lucien was already ready to go and die for his High Lord and his betrothed.

'I will not force you into doing this, just as I did not force you when that bitch Amarantha strolled in and cursed this land. But, I am asking as your High Lord, not as a friend or a captain.' Tamlin looked away for a second, his adamsappel bobbing. 'Get her home. By all means necessary.'

The sight of Tamlin - one of the most powerful beings in this world - being so broken, so desperate. It shocked and broke Lucien's heart. Right there and then Lucien swore once again, in silence, that he would serve his master with every fiber in his body. He would serve and protect. He would fight and bleed for him. He would be loyal to him until he was a whisper into the stars. And if it meant getting Feyre back, he would do it.

Feyre would be confused, scared and most likely, angry, but for Tamlin he would make her see the truth. That Tamlin always meant well. That he too, was being hunted by his dreams and needed time too, to recover from the nightmares from Under The Mountain. He would make Feyre see. And he would not stop until she was home, safe, she had earned that. He would rip her away from Rhysand. Rhysand, who had, without a doubt, messed with her mind, preventing her from coming home. From fighting against him. He would take her home and let her recover, and if then she would want to leave. Then, he would let her go, he would try to convince Tamlin to let her go.

Lucien knowing it wasn't necessary, bowed at the waist for his High Lord. 'Tamlin, you know I will serve you in every way I can. I will go the Night Court and bring Feyre back, I swear to you.'

Together Lucien and Tamlin watched the other four sentries.

As one, they bowed.

As one, they said: 'I will serve you, High Lord Tamlin in every way that I can.'

As one they at lucien and Tamlin.

'Let's get Lady Feyre home.' was all that Lucien said before leaving his home.

Leaving and going to the court of monsters and death.