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scorpioriesling · 2 days

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Once Upon A Dream

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairings: Azriel x reader

Warnings: Suspense, angst, light swearing, slight abuse

Summary: As the daughter of a malevolent king on the Continent, you were used to spending time alone. Sure, you had tasks to complete, but not much free-will was given under your father’s harsh rule. This wouldn’t stop your quest for something more; but for every good thing, a price must be paid. Would you allow yourself to be convinced -- by a fae of all beings -- that you're destined for more than a life within the castle?

SR’s Note: Guys… this idea had me itchingggg to start writing it, but I just get very very very busy and I procrastinate tbh. Seriously, I'm putting my whole ･ﾟ: *pusss･ﾟ: * into this one -- jokes aside, I’m just excited to share this idea and illustrate how I was piecing it together in my brain. I’m so excited for you guys to read it — maybe listen to Once Upon A Dream (this version, specifically) while reading it? We all love a good Lana moment. <3 Enjoy, my darlings. I apoligize in advance for any editing mistakes!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

"Good morning Mrs. Julie," you say kindly, voice as soft as the rays of sunlight streaming through the small windows.

"Oh, good morning, child!" The short, aging kitchen attendant clasps one of her worn hands in yours and offers you a warm smile, and you smile broadly back at her. "Always a delight to see you so early in the day," she continues, releasing your hand to turn her attention back to the mound of settling dough on the counter before her that is beginning to rest. "Say, what are you planning for today, hm?" She asks, picking the sticky, yeasty mound from the wooden board and expertly working it between her palms. It's as unbothered by her touch as she is by the hustle and bustle of other attendants working in preparation around her. "I hear the weather is to be kind today." She winks, and you consider.

"Well, I was planning to tend to the garden... again..." she gives you a knowing look, hearing no different any other morning.

"And I assume you will eat your breakfast and brush your hair too?" You narrow your eyes playfully at her, but can't help the grin tugging at your lips as a chuckle escapes her lips.

"Maybe I want to go for a more disheveled look today?" You say sassily, and she bumps her hip with yours. You loose a laugh.

"Go on, dear," She says.

"Well, I heard father was planning a meeting with Graysen of some sort, which means he won't be here..." You allude. Julie's brows raise, but she doesn't take her eyes off of the dough she is kneading.

"Oooooh, so you are thinking of forging plans while your father is away then, hmm?" She coos. You scoff, pushing off the counter you had braced upon to fold your arms across your chest.

"Julie! How could you accuse me of such a thing?" You throw her a playfully incredulous look, which she returns with a mischedious grin.

"Because, my dear," she picks the mass of dough up, tossing it into a nearby bowl with a heavy thwop. "You forget that I've known you for... well, let's see, twenty three years now?" She glances sidelong at you, and you drop your arms, gracing her with another soft smile.

"Which is precisely why you are absolutely right," you say, as she grabs a wet cloth and begins wiping the loose flour from the worktable. You find one on a table nearby, clutching it and working to help her clean up.

"Y/N, no no no, you'll only ruin your dress dear," she tuts. You roll your eyes, and she shakes her head, taking the rag from your hand.

"Just because I am technically a Princess, doesn't mean I can't or don't wan't to help," you say. She continues wiping, smiling gravely at you.

"I know dearie. If you didn't, you wouldn't come down here to say hello each morning." A sad smile takes over your lips, and just then, the clock chimes. Your head turns, and you notice that it is nine on the dot. You had better be getting to the dining room to meet your family.

"You'd better be going dear," Julie seems to echo your thoughts aloud. You nod, making way for the stairwell and muttering polite hellos to the other attendants as they pass.

"I'll see you later on Julie -- have a lovely day!" You call as you begin the climb. It only takes a few minutes to climb the few flights to the main floor of the castle from the service kitchen, but as you swing the heavy door open, your eyes are met with none other than your father's from the end of the long table.

He says nothing, he only seems to stare right through you as you swallow the breath you didn't realize you'd been holding and pull the oak door closed. Graysen lifts his gaze from the table, eyes narrowing on you slightly as he shifts his eyes from you, to the clock handing from the wall, and then back to you again.

"You're late, sister," he says. You huff, squaring your shoulders and walking swiftly to your unassigned-assigned seat at the much-too-large dining table. You father takes a deep breath, and you stare sidelong at him, the cascading sunlight framing his stature like flames around an ember in a firepit.

Graysen continues to stare expectantly at you, and you fold your hands in your lap, tilting your chin as high as you can and let out a soft groan.

"Ughhh okay! I'm sorry I am a couple of minutes late, okay? I apologize. Can we just eat?" You ask, eyes dancing between your brother and father in question. Your father sighs, still not speaking as he reaches for the plate of crepes in the middle of the breakfast spread. You dejectedly look at Greysen, who only shrugs and flicks a few sausages onto his own plate. It isn't until a few moments of eating in silence that your father finally speaks.

"The meeting... today... Gray... we need to ask the Queens about the border and what we need to be doing about the, well, the problem were having. The slippage, rather." He says, eyes still downcast toward his plate. Graysen nods, seeming to know exactly what your father is speaking of.

"Mhm, sounds about right." He says through a mouthful of sausage. You furrow your brows. What are they talking even talking about? It isn't like they ever tell you anything -- to them, you're good for flittering around the palace and adding to the aesthetic of the place. They've never dared say it, but they don't need to; their actions say enough. You fear the woman your brother courts would only end up down the same path you're currently on, seeing how the last few have turned out anyway.

"I need you to take this seriously," Your father says. Graysen swallows, clearing his throat and wipes his mouth with his napkin. His eyes meet yours swiftly before boring into your father.

"Father... when have I ever not taken something like this seriously?" He asks. Your father shrugs, but continues to eat, his plate nearly clean. You glance at your clean plate, contemplating the right time to ask if you can leave the grounds. Your father barely ever allows for your free-will; and you doubt he'd let you go today. After a few more beats of silence, you decide what better time than now to ask?

Clearing your throat, you sit up staight in your chair. "Father, I wanted to-"

"You have flour on your dress, Y/N."

✧･ﾟ: *

The soft pattering of soles on marble sounds beneath your pacing feet for as you angrily step back and forth across your room. You've been in here since breakfast, and though its only been but an hour, you feel as though half the day has gone by. You were so sick and tired of your father never paying you any mind -- he never seemed to care what you thought, or what you had to say. It almost seemed like he believed you to not posess a brain in your head, the way he disreguarded his only daughter.

You're sure you've walked a ring into the floor by now, but when you look down, it looks as pristine as it did when you'd returned from breakfast of course. You huff, almost hoping for some sort of penalty for your father's actions.

Oh, he'd be getting a penalty, all right.

You had a good idea how the rest of this fine day would go; first, you'd trot through the gardens, as you always did to show your father you were keeping busy. Then, when he took your brother for whatever meeting they had, you'd venture as you pleased -- a punishable, hainous crime, truly -- and then, you'd return by sundown, as to not raise suspicion.

Plain and simple.

This plan was perfect enough, you'd decided as you ended your pacing tyrade and instead padded over to your expansive closet to choose a lighter, cleaner dress for... "gardening". Settling on a pale blue sundress that ended just above the knees and fit just right, you fastened your sandals and tied your hair with a bow. A once over in your full-length mirror painted the portrait of a princess, one your father would be proud of.

Or, one he would believe, anyway.

As you decended the grand staircase, you overheard your brother's voice from the foyer, and you halted, pressing your body against the railing. Leaning over ever so slightly, you strained to hear what he could be saying.

"No father, I'm not saying that," he sounded exasperated. "I'm just saying that if we have faeries coming over the wall, we are the closest thing to it, and the first thing we should probably be doing is checking any surrounding areas, rather than sending troops to the wall itself." He argues. You hear a huff, and you know its none other than your father.

"Right, but the Queens are saying that if we guard the wall, we stop this spillage of faeries into our land all together, then we wouldn't have anything to worry about to begin with," your father retorts. You furrow your brow. There he goes, using that word again. Spillage. They're speaking as though faeries are on the continent, on our lands? But, that wouldn't make any sense. What's the point?

"Why even come over the wall in the first place?" Graysen asks. Huh, you think to yourself. I was thinking the same thing. Maybe I am just as smart as your son, maybe it could be me going to these meetings, Father. You hear footsteps, and your breath hitches as you glimpse them striding for the front doors. If they so much as turned around, looked up...

"What do you think this meeting is for today, my boy?" Your father claps Graysen on the shoulder, and you decide to make your entrance. Stepping loudly down the stairs, both of their heads turn to face you, the ghost of a smile falling from your father's face when he sees you. Graysen only cocks an eyebrow.

"Going somewhere?" He asks hautily. You plaster the most sickenly-sweet smile on your face as you step onto the landing, and clasp both hands behind your back.

"Only the gardens," you say, meeting your brother's stare. "The hedges are quite overgrown, and the rosebushes need tending. Lot of work to do today." He only hmmphs, and your father's stone-cold stare doesn't falter.

"The change of attire is... appreciated." He says dryly. You nod, and he blinks. "We have a meeting to be off to. We should return after sundown. You'll do well on your own for the evening?" He asks without an ounce of actual concern.

"Of course, father." You say. He nods, turning to Graysen.

"We should be off then." And with that, he is opening the door and heading out with your brother. Out to some secret meeting that you can't and shouldn't know about for Gods knows why.

Out and away for you to finally enjoy some well-deserved freedom.

You watch as the last horse in the group attending with your father today is far enough from the palace that you cannot make out the shape anymore, and then practically book it to the back of the palace. Throwing open the back doors, prancing down the marble stairs to the gardens, you dance and twirl past every bush and weed and stone bench that you definitely will not be paying any mind to today -- well, honestly, these rose bushes are looking a little rough. You pull dead petals and bulbs off as you go, which only brightens the path as you make your way towards...

Wherever your feet carry you, you suppose.

Not before long, you've passed every rose bush. Every weed. Every overgrown hedge. You slow your steps as you skip past the last stone bench, realizing you truly are at the edge of the grounds, the large iron fence drawing nearer and nearer. It's rusty as you finally get in front of the latch, running your fingers along it. You still try your luck nonetheless, doubting it would be unlocked. You unclip the hook, pushing the heavy metal bars tainted coppery red with age and-

It opens.

You almost can't believe it.

You gasp, stepping through the small opening and looking beyond. All that is really out there is dense forest, and to be honest, you don't have much interest or experience in going out in a place like that. However, when you ponder, you really don't have much experience in anything, so would it really hurt to try something new? What was the worst that could happen -- you could see a bunny?

You take a deep breath, and then begin walking. The sun was high in the sky, and the tendrils of light falling delicately through the trees was... lovely. Peaceful. Out here, it felt so free, like you could do or be whatever you pleased without confinement.

Another twig snapped in the distance, and you whipped your head in the direction. You hated the way your heartbeat sped up, over a simple forrest creature. Shaking your head, you continued on, looking quickly over your shoulder at the palace that was growing smaller with each step you took.

It wasn't much longer before you decided to stop and rest for a bit, the walk tiring you out more than you'd thought. Your half-lidded eyes began to glaze over when they caught on something just across the way. It was... out of place, it, didn't... belong there. You sat up straight, senses heightening when you saw the figure move, the paleness a stark contrast to the lush greenery around you.

That definitely doesn't belong here.

"You need not be afraid," a voice rang out. You were on your feet in an instant, heart pounding in your chest as your eyes darted between the trees. Where did it go?

"Behind you, dear." You jumped, adrenaline spiking as a rush of fear flooded your system. You fell flat on your rear, kicking backward with your hands and feet. You barely registered with stood before you, the smile like a cat staring down at a helpless mouse.

"Allow me to repeat myself; do. Not. Be. Afraid." Your breath came out in small pants, and you stared at the man with pure terror in your eyes. He was a few feet from you, merely standing calmly and looking at you as though waiting for you to stand up. You took just a moment to regain control of your thoughts, remembering you were in fact in a dress, on the ground, and there was a stranger in front of you. You scrambled to your feet, dusting off the back of your dress and glancing sidelong at the man. He smirked at you.

"Very well then. I don't have all day; I did come here with purpose." You look at him incredulously.

"Whatever are you talking about?" You ask. He folds his arms over his chest.

"A proposition, really." He states. "I've been... noticing... you might be interested in something I have to offer." He states. You raise an eyebrow.

"Do tell." You say flatly. You clasps his hands behind his back, beginning a slow circle around you.

"I have the ability to grant you something -- a power, of sorts -- that I cannot posess myself. It's a very special gift, child, one some would," he leans close, and you stiffen. The air around you even seems to drop in temperature. "...kill for." You shudder.

"What makes you think I want it? Why me? How do you have this?" You ask, and then it hits you -- he is a faerie. He is fae, and he came over the wall. You turn, staring at him as he laughs cruelly.

"Ahh, so you've put it together then." You glare at him.

"What is your kind even doing on this side of the wall, huh? Don't you understand people like my father would kill you?" You spat. The man only grins wickedly.

"Precisely, which is why I am offering this gift to you, Princess," you straighten.

"With this new strength, you will weild shadows of emerald; posess strength, at your will; have the ability to forge your own magic, transform your own reality, and manipulate what is real," he explains. Your eyes widen. Was all of this true?

"And... why give it to me?" You ask.

"Lets just say... I have a war, I am heading. I am a King too, after all." He lets out a dark chuckle. You look toward the ground, thinking for a moment. Apparently you think too long, because he starts talking again.

"You'll be a good asset to have when I need it, and I couldn't keep this gift even if I wanted to." He scoffs. "Like calls to like, some joke... by the Cauldron-"

"Okay. I accept."

He grins, all of his decaying teeth exposed and you grimace.

"Excellent."

Thunder cracks overhead, the sky exchanging the sun for an overcasted gray pantone. You look side to side, the leaves and twigs around you rising from the forrest floor in a dance on a phantom wind as the breeze tornadoes around you in waves. It increases speed, and the man cackles, the crown on his head glimmering with the movements.

You squeeze your eyes shut, the motions, the sounds -- its all too much. More thunder whips overhead, the wind picking up and you open your eyes to watch as the man beging to recede into the windstorm.

"Hey!" You call out, reaching out a lame hand in protest. "Wait! How am I supposed to-" Another flash of lightning strikes the ground, inches from your fingertips and you shriek, retracting your hand and shoving your palms into your eyes. You can't help but fall to your knees, the ground biting into your flesh as your dress blows and tugs with the whipping winds around you. Tears threaten to fall, and you curl into the soft Earth, wishing it would drag you under.

You almost confuse your hairbow for the sensation of the cool, silky caress against your cheek. You instinctively reach up to touch it, a tear slipping free as you cry out. Peering up, you see wisps of smoky black amid the everlasting windstorm, threading through your fingers and softly caressing your face. You sob, the lightning overhead only drawing closer. The coolness of the smoke around your cheek, over your shoulder, and through your fingers brings a little comfort to the scariest moment of your life.

It only continues to get scarier as lightning streaks across the sky once more. This time, however, it doesn't span the whole sky. It's aiming right at you. As if you're in slow motion, you don't react quick enough -- the lightning continues to move at, well, lightning speed, as it hits the mark it was aiming for.

✧･ﾟ: *

You awake with a jolt, thrashing against the cool silken sheets wrapped around you. You're back in your bed, the soft hues of the late afternoon sun basking your room in an amber glow. Your eyes dart around the room wildly; how did you end up in here? How much time had passed? The last thing you remembered were the cool caresses of those shadowy figures as the tornado-like winds whipped around you-

You leap from your bed, landing on the floor as soft as a feline and feeling... lighter. You furrow your brow, checking yourself over. Stepping in front of your mirror, you didn't look much different; sure, your hair could use a brush run through it, but not much else was amiss. You let out a sigh of relief, the sunlight catching in the flecks of your irises, highlighting the emerald specks hidden in them.

Oh. That was new.

Then, you remembered that tiny, new little change.

The.. what had he called it? The gift, that fae had given you.

The King, rather. Oh so he said.

You chewed on your bottom lip, beginning to pace around like you'd done this morning. You thought up what you should do about this... predicament, you were now in. You'd learned of the war that was happening, or so this "King", had told you. He also said you would be an asset to him, which you still couldn't understand or come up with any explaination as to why.

You halted your footsteps. You'd spent many days in this room, in this palace, pacing, doing absolutely nothing but wasting time -- and if the threat of war was real, if that faerie was telling the truth, then you needed to find out more for yourself. Gods be damned if your father would ever clue you in on such matters.

You made way for the stairs, practically taking them two at a time, nearly floating down the staircase it seemed with the pace you were going. You continued to make haste, bolting for your father's study. The sky was streaking with tinges of purple and crimson, sign that dinner would soon be ready and your father would be on his merry way home soon.

You didn't have much time.

Heaving the massive doors of his study, your breath caught when you finally saw the interior. Sure, you'd caught glances inside every now and again -- but you were forbidden in this room, as was any servant, any maiden, even Graysen wasn't allowed in here. You knew, whatever you needed to find had to be locked away in here. You could feel it, although it was calling out to you.

Stepping in, you made way for the rows of books along the far wall. It was only dimly lit inside the room, but you did not have a problem seeing the titles as clearly as if the sun shone from the ceiling of this very room. Was this another condition of the gift given to you?

Scanning the texts, most seemed rather useless. There were a few that pertained to faeries, but you'd already been educated on the history of their kind -- that wasn't what you were in here for. You turned, peering over your shoulder toward the windows. A massive trunk sat, and every nerve ending vibrated with the call of your power drawing you to it.

You rushed over, dropping to your knees and popping the locks. Shoving the lid open, you found a single map inside. You yanked it out, letting the lid slam shut as you unrolled it.

The map had a few areas on it -- ones you'd heard of, but couldn't understand why your father would be keeping under such protection. The scroll featured documentation of the Continent, and above it; Prythian. It was divided into smaller sections, and off to one side there was another small island with the title of Hybern, and you didn't miss a large, red X over the area scribbled in dark ink. You rolled it back up quickly, tucking it under your arm.

You figured would suffice, and you would be able to work off of this and gather more information from the library, but as you made way for the door...

His desk. It was practically screaming at you, begging to be rummaged through. It was clean, pristine, and calling so loudly that you stopped dead in your tracks. Turning slowly toward it, you confusedly stepped closer.

"What am I... looking for over here?" You wondered aloud. You looked all around -- he had no papers on it, no boxes or locks stored near the floor. You ran your hands along the sides of it even, but it wasn't until you sat in his chair that you felt the exhaustion hit you. Wave after wave of intensity coursed through you, as if alerting you to take take take what was needed. You threw your hands in the air.

"There's nothing here!" You shouted, nearing your witts end at the empty desk before you. Your veins flooded with electricity, and you hissed at the pain. Why wouldn't it stop? Why wouldn't it all just... go away?

"THERE IS NOTHING!" You repeat, yelling into the empty air. "I CAN'T FIND IT-" You bring both of your hands down on the desk, bright green flames bursting from your palms as they make contact with the wood. You gasped loudly, the flares dissipating into thin tendrils of emerald smoke, similar to those from the forest earlier in the day. You stared down at the backs of your hands, not sure if you wanted to move them and see the damage you'd done, or keep them there and enjoy your ignorance for a few moments longer.

You shakily remove them from their planted position, only growing more confused when the desk below remained pristine. "What... the... Hell..." you mutter. You glance toward the ground, noticing a small tray laying haphazardly below. A few papers and quills lay scattered about, and you brace the ground, craning your neck to look at the underside of the desk.

It was secured underneath, you see. The force must have knocked the hidden compartment off of its hinges.

You pick up the tray and the supplies, laying them out on your father's desk to examine. Nevermind that there is a keyhole in the front, and no key in sight -- you wouldn't have been able to get inside the compartment anyway. Amid the papers, there are many pertaining to past trips that are no longer relevant; but a few on top of the pile catch your eye. Other than Graysen's birth certificate, a few of the other pages feature words like "Queens", and "securing the Continental borders" and "aligning with Hybern for the war"-

Your pulled from your amazement when you hear the unmistakeable sound of hooves outside the front entrance. Your blood runs cold, and you quickly shove the discarded papers back in the tray and jam it back onto its hinges under your father's desk. It doesn't fit quite right -- but it will have to do for now. You'd be dead if he caught you poking around in here.

You quickly glance around the room as you swipe the rather important documents from his desk as well as the map, and assure the room looks just as you found it. You're pulling the door closed, waiting for the soft sound of the latch when you hear the grand doors opening. Shit. The only way to your room is the grand staircase, and going that way will only ensure that your father and brother see you, contraband in hand. How are you going to get out of this one?

Think think think, what other routes could you take? You rack your brain, but can't think of any. Taking the service stairs would draw attention as dinner is about to be served and the attendants are using those at the moment, oh Gods how you wish you could just be in your room right now...

And just like that, you were.

You look around incredulously, dropping the map and the papers in shock. One minute, you were outside your father's study. And the next...

You were here.

But, how?

You nearly double over, bracing a hand on your dresser as the realization hits you with full force. The wood brashes against the wall loudly, and you hear your name in the distance. You shake your head, slowly as the gravity of the situation sets in. You can't believe this. What you've done. What you have done. What have you done?

"No... no no no," you groan aloud. Heavy footsteps sound outside your room, and you go into panic mode, pushing yourself from the dresser and kicking the papers and map beneath your bed. You're just in time -- within seconds, a quick knock sounds at your door and your brother is inching it open.

"Y/N? Are you... alright? In here?" He asks cautiously.

You clear your throat, smoothing down your hair and taking a seat atop your bed. "Yes." He opens the door wider, peering inside and gives you a bored look.

"Father requests your presence. Dinner is to be served in five minutes." He says flatly. You nod, trying hard as you are willing to mask every emotion swirling inside. His brow furrows, and he gives you one last quizzical look.

"You sure nothing is going on up here?" He asks. You shake your head.

"Nope." You pop the P, smoothing your skirt and he looks you up and down with distaste as he begins shutting the door.

"Don't be late this time."

✧･ﾟ: *

You barely get any sleep, tossing and turning all night as thoughts of your new gifts and new... self plague you. All night, you continue to have haunting dreams, visions of yourself displaced in Prythian among the monsters that lurk the lands from the stories you'd always been told. The faeries that had once kept humans as slaves, faeries who have a thirst for human blood.

But now it was you. You who had been tricked. You who had been a fool, and accepted such a curse from a fae himself only to become what you feared most.

How would you ever be able to tell your family? Your father, aligning with Hybern to take out the fae-kind, preparing for war where he would not bat an eye slaughtering anything other than human. Your brother, who's last courted female left him, taking to Prythian herself instead. You knew where his loyalties lied, and they most certainly weren't with you.

This agony continued for days, not that your father caught on. He never paid you mind anyway, so keeping your inner turmoil from him wasn't very difficult. It was the restless nights, the nights that you'd awake in terror, and constant thoughts of what may happen to you here that plagued you the most.

You needed to find some way out.

A few weeks since being given your gift per se, you were headed down to the kitchen one morning after a particularly harrowing night to greet your favorite person on the Continent, the sweet smell of fresh biscuits bringing a seed of joy to your morning.

"Good morning Mrs. Julie," you stated. Mrs. Julie turned from her work station, greeting you with her signature smile -- only for it to turn into a frown moments later.

"My, dear child! Have you gotten no rest in days?" She asks, taking your cheeks in her hands. She turns your face side to side, and you let out a yawn in confirmation. She tsk tsk tsks, shaking her head and dropping her hands. She turns back to her station.

"What's been keeping you awake, hmm?" She asks. You take a seat on a stool near the end of her table, watching as she works on icing a tray of fruit tarts before her. You breathe deeply -- Julie is your favorite, most trusted person in the world. Since your mother died, she took you in of sorts, always caring for and giving you the love you lacked from your other family members. But this? This kind of secret... it just might be something that is too much for her to handle. Is she knew you were a faerie, she may see you differently. You didn't know if it was something you could stomach.

"Is it... a male, perhaps?" She asks. You scoff, nudging her with your arm. That wakes you right up.

"Oh please, Mrs. Julie -- if I had a lover, you'd be the first to know!" You say playfully. She chuckles, continuing to ice.

"Well, dearie I don't know what you tell me and what you decide to keep is all your business," she offers politely. You don't know how to respond, so you stay quiet. She sighs, setting down the icing bag and taking your hands in hers. Her soft eyes peer into yours and she leans close.

"Y/N, if there is something troubling you, you know you can always talk with me, right?" She says quietly. You nod wordlessly, tears prickling the back of your eyes. Her eyes search yours in silent question, and you loose a breath. You know she is trustworthy, no matter how she might look at you after this, you know you need to talk to someone about your situation.

"Maybe... maybe there is, something." You say. She nods, looking down at the table like she knew you'd say that.

"Well, how about after breakfast when I take my break, we can meet in the garden? Talk about it?" She offers. You nod, and she pulls you into a tight hug. You let a single tear slip free, swiping it away before letting go from her embrace.

"Alright then -- run along, child. You don't want to be late for breakfast, now."

✧･ﾟ: *

As it turns out -- you'd worried over nothing. Mrs. Julie had listened to every word you explained, only offering you her undivided attention and words of sorrow for what you endured. She also offered her promise that she would do whatever was needed to help you, especially when you explained how you'd gone into your father's study.

"Human, faerie, royal -- Hell, you could even be one of those pesky buzzards that ravish the crops in the springtime, and I would still love you just the same, my dear." Her words nearly brought you to tears, and that's when you knew you'd made the right choice in telling her.

That night as you laid down, your head felt clearer -- the grasp and acceptance on who and what you are that much stronger. You hoped that tonight, you would finally be able to enjoy the splendor of peaceful sleep, as your eyelids began to slide shut...

A willowy, chilled breeze slipped past your shoulders, and you instinctively tugged at your duvet, wrapping it around the exposed skin. Moments later, the breeze slid past again, tickling your neck and dragging past your nose. You scrunched it, flipping over on your pillow to face the other side and gripped your blankets tighter in your fist.

Then, the duvet was yanked from your bed altogether.

You shreiked, eyes flying open as you scrambled to a sitting position. You were far from the lamp that stood feet from your bed, but you didn't need it. Through the moonlight pooling in from your window, you were able to make out the immistakable shadow of a body, leaned against the frame. Your heart rate picked up, taking in the sharp-tipped wings draped behind him. You raised a hand on instinct; familiar flames of jade eliciting with the motion.

The man stands to his full height, taking a step toward the bed and you lunge forward, braced on your knees and one hand as the sparks in the other only grow.

"Don't you DARE take one more step!" You hiss, and he puts his hands up in defense, but continues to walk frward slowly.

"Listen, Princess, there's no need to get all-"

"I SAID, STOP." You fire a line of your power towards him, but to your dismay, he easily avoids it, sidestepping. It lands upon one of the paintings handing on your wall instead, cremating it to nothing but ash. He watches, turning to you and whistling lowly as he halts his movements.

"Wowwwww," He purrs. "Were you really going to... incinerate me?" His head turns to you, and you glare at him through the dark.

"I most certainly was." You hop from the bed, landing with lithe precision and slowly approach the intruder. Soft cobalt stones glimmer in the moonlight upon the male's shoulders, one on his chest as your eyes roam over him. It is easier to make out his defining features as you draw nearer, and...

Holy shit.

"Well, if you'd done that, you wouldn't be able to size me up like I'm your last meal; as you're doing now," he responds with a chuckle. You scoff, and fold your arms over your chest. A heat rises to your cheeks as you remember you are in only a nightgown, and this is, again, a stranger. In your home. The flecks of chartruese return to your irises, and the handsome, winged man puts is hands up once more.

"Hey, hey. I'm sorry to have frightened you. But, it's not like I could've walked through your front door, you know, and I had to come during the night-" You shake your head, eyes dulling in color a shade.

"Who are you?" You demand.

"Azriel." He bends dramatically at the waist, and you roll your eyes. "Pleased to finally meet you, Princess Y/N."

"Uh huh. Why are you in my bed chambers?" You ask. He sighs, taking a step forward and beginning to pace. You fold your arms over your chest, sensing a long explaination coming with this one.

"Well, actually I came to talk with you. About... you." He says quietly. You raise an eyebrow, perching on the end of the bed.

"What about me?" You ask, feigning ignorance. You weren't stupid -- you were a human girl, given the powers of fae. Why wouldn't another of their kind come crawling in here to ask questions?

"You're... you've been changed. You've been given this power that you aren't experienced with, and-"

"And what? You came here to take it back?" You defend. Azriel looks at you, brows hung low as he frowns at you, annoyed.

"No, I came to help you navigate it." He states, fingertips pressed together. You sigh, leaning back on your hands. The action causes the thin nightgown to ride up on your thighs, and you don't miss Azriel's line of sight trailing along the hem of your dress.

"What makes you so sure I want your help?" You clip. Azriel clears his throat, looking down at the floor, then to the window he came through.

"You probably don't, and I get that, alright?" He sighs. Something in your heart strains a bit, and you feel a bit bad for being so rude with him. But... then you remember he came in through your window in the middle of the night. Unannounced. "But I am sure you've heard of what is to happen in merely a few days between the humans and fae alike, the war and... and you may very well get caught up in it."

His face softens as he takes a seat next to you on the bed, the mattress dipping with his weight. It causes you to shift closer to him, and you nearly tumble right into him. Not that... you'd mind...

Focus.

"I... I've heard of the war..." You start. His hazel eyes gaze softly at you, and you continue. "When... when I was in the forest, and when I was, well, I don't know, when this "happened" to me," you gesture with your hands. "The male said I would be useful to him. But I don't know what he was on about. Or, why me? I don't understand. He kept saying like calls to like and he couldn't keep it himself -- whatever that means." A small smile graces Azriel's lips, and you realize how close in proximity you've scooted. You scootch back an inch, raising an eyebrow in question.

"What's so funny?" You ask. He turns fully to you, bending a knee to rest on the bed while his other leg remains draped over the side. The iridescent light of the moon is illuminating the planes of his face magnificently; the sharp curve of his jaw, the dark arch of his brow; those full, luscious lips...

"Allow me to show you." He holds out a hand, palm up, and you glance down at it. Dark, inky shadows curl around his arms and run down the tips of his fingers, swirling over his calloused skin. You can't help but lean close, so intrigued by his power so similar to yours.

"I've... I've seen these. Before, they were-"

"In the forest that day?" He finishes. Your eyes meet his, and the shadows extend, dancing up the soft skin of your forearms and twirling through the silky strands of your hair. You let out a small giggle as their featherlight touches retreat, slithering back to Azriel.

"You were there." You say quietly. He nods, a look of regret on his face.

"I'm sorry you have been put through... all of this." He says softly, his hand reaching to lightly cup your knee. Your eyebrows raise slightly at the touch, just a spark of what you felt that day in your father's office shooting through your veins at the contact. His eyes search yours, and you glance down at his hand, the burning inside only deepening when you notice the amount of scars atop it.

It doesn't matter who or what you are -- everyone has a past, you suppose. Your heart tugs on the fact that Azriel seems to have gone through quite a bit.

He notices your stare, and motions to move his hand back. You're quicker, grasping his fingers first, keeping his hand in place. The corner of his mouth tilts upward, and you can't help yourself from doing the same.

Ohh, what your father would do if he caught you like this.

Oh, what your father would. Do.

"Um," you say hastily, rising from the bed. "It is rather late -- and since you seem to be keeping tabs, you know I haven't been sleeping well," you say. Azriel stands, stepping close to you and you suck in a breath.

"Oh, I'll let you sleep Princess," he coos. "But we're pulling those documents out tomorrow night. We have to know what Hybern is planning, and if you want to save your father, and your people..." he saunters toward the window.

"How do you know that I..." You peek under the bed. Sure enough, the documents and the map are all there. Azriel chuckles.

"They like to call me a spymaster. A Shadowsinger," he says. You simply shrug.

"Okay. Whatever that means." He shakes his head, propping a boot on the windowsill and peering out.

"So... you'll be back tomorrow?" You ask wearily. Azriel's eyes meet yours once more, and he nods.

"I'll come earlier next time, if I can." You smile.

"Try not to rip my blankets off of me this time." You say with a chuckle. He shakes his head, ducking through the window and extending his enormous, night-black wings. You rush to the window, gazing out as you watch him disappear into the night.

✧･ﾟ: *

You awoke the next morning, practically floating out of bed and skipping from your dressing chambers to your vanity as you prepared for the day. You slept beautifully, you had to admit -- no nightmares, no tossing, or turning. You breathed a sigh of relief as you twirled in the prettiest yellow sundress you had, taking to the stairs for your usual routine.

"Well, someone is in a much better mood today," Mrs. Julie muses. You pluck a ripe raspberry from her fruit basket, popping it in her mouth as you twirl around the kitchen. With all the hustle and bustle from the other attendants before breakfast, your presence is hardly noticed.

"I slept well," you say. She shakes her head, tapping you on the nose.

"Mmm hmm," she humms. You talk for a few more moments, and then head upstairs for breakfast. You only feel a little guilty for not telling her about Azriel, but... it just seems too new. Too fresh. You decide to wait.

"Good morning, everyone!" You announce, approaching the table. Graysen's groggy morning stare meets yours, and your father sets down his mug to give you a once-over. Your brother only groans.

"What's with the Jolly Miss Sunshine, Y/N?" He grunts. You huff, taking a seat at the table as attendants bring out the food.

"Good morning." Your father responds, and you nod to him with a smile. There is not much warmth in those icey, dead eyes of his but... at least he's paying you mind today.

As you finish, Graysen is excusing himself to leave and you are about to do the same, readying to stand leave the room.

"Please, Y/N. Sit. We need to have a discussion." Your father's tone cuts through the silence of the room like a knife, and your hands begin to clam up as you sit back down at the table. He sets his utensils down on his plate, slowly draining the last of his coffee before looking at you, really looking you in the eyes for the first time in what feels like ages.

"Whatever is the-"

"I know you spend a great deal of time in the gardens." He cuts you off. You clamp your mouth shut, nodding at his statement. He nods with you, staring at you with an unreadable expression.

"I know you spend a great deal of time... tending, to these gardens, hmm?" He says. You nod again, growing impatient and wondering what angle he's working.

"I'm just curious." He pauses, eyes fixating on the wall behind you. "I'm actually, rather curious. Why the hedges... are weeks, weeks overgrown, if you are out there... every day... "tending" to them." He says it more like a statement, and honestly, it is. You hadn't actually cut a bush or a hedge in months, truly. You'd been more focused on doing what you wanted, and since talk of the war began and you'd been given fae powers-

"M-my gloves," you stammer. His eyes slice to yours from the spot they'd fixated on, a quizzical look on his face.

"My gloves. They're... ruined." You say. He nods slowly.

"You need new ones." He asks dryly. You nod, and he sighs airily.

"New gloves it is, then."

✧･ﾟ: *

That night, after bidding everyone goodnight, you made sure to keep your dayclothes on. You wouldn't want another duvet-nightgown-midnight situation happening again...

You don't wait long for Azriel to appear, coming through your window with the stealthiness of a trained feline and silence of a snake. Your breath catches from your seat in the middle of your bed -- his outfit similar today, all leather, but his tank top showed off his bulking arms and the long, black tattoos that ran laterally along them.

"Hi," You whispered. He strided over, kicking off his boots and climbing onto your bed. He offered you a whisper of a smile.

"Hi." He said back. You gestured to the items laid before you.

"I... I got everything out that I had," You say. He nods, looking at every piece of parchment.

"Thank you," he mumbles. You smile, and he moves to pick up the map first.

"So," he begins, clearing his throat. "How much do you know about fae?"

✧･ﾟ: *

You hadn't realized how late it had gotten, the only indication was the ache in your back from leaning over the pages. Your mind was blown, but you only wanted to hear more; whether that was to hear Azriel keep talking, or for information. You didn't mind. Both were favorable.

He'd explained more in-depth about the history of Prythian, the Courts, and the politics of it all. His explaination was a little different than the one you'd always been offered; his seemed more fair and just, whereas yours always seemed more geared toward the hatred of the fae. He also explained more about Hybern, and how the King you met was likely using you as a way to get the humans into his hands for the taking.

"So... he gifted me these powers, thinking it would aid him in the war as my father is working with him, to fight against the rest of the courts? Why would the King, or any humans, want to fight the fae who are against keeping humans as slaves -- it was Hybern who were pro-human demise," you say. Azriel shrugs.

"They've got it backwards," he reasons. "And, the King saw an opportunity with you, vulnerable, and alone, and he took it. This ensures if things go sideways with your father, he has collateral. I told you Princess; you're more involved than you know." You sigh, the realization hitting you like a tidal wave. You close your eyes and rub your temples as you feel a gentle hand rub soothing circles over your back.

"The King is going to kill the humans anyway." You conclude. You don't need to look, but you know Azriel nods. "He's just using my father to lure them to Hybern to do it."

"Which is why you need to convince your father to do the right thing first," he says. Your eyes widen, and you look to him, a sarcastic laugh bubbling from your throat. He brings his hand to your mouth, covering it and leaning rather close to you.

"Shhh," he hushes. "Someone will hear you."

Your eyes level with his hand, and then meet his as he slowly retracts. He's inches from your face now, and you can feel your insides buzzing with delight.

"I know it isn't ideal, and it might not be easy, but it's our last option here." His fingers slowly trace along the side of your arm. "Look, if it were up to me," he whispers. His eyes stare intensely at your lips. "I'd get you out of this wretched place; I'd bring you back with me, where you could..." he inches closer, and your heartbeat quickens. "...be who you are... and, not have to hide it from anyone..." You gaze up at him, and he moves closer, quickly pressing a kiss to your cheek. Your face heats, the skin searing with utter delight at the point of contact. More more more your power thrums.

"Go... with you?" You ask quietly. "To... Prythian?" He nods slightly, downcast eyes raking over your form as his pointer finger and thumb catch a strand of your hair, rolling it between them.

"Azriel... I can't just-"

"Why not, Princess?" The way he says it sends virescent flames shooting through your every vein, and you feel rediculous for thinking this way over a male you've just met so soon. His fingers drop the twirl of hair, knuckles grazing over your jaw affectionately instead. You lean into the touch.

"We've... only just met..." You trail off. He tilts your chin to look at him, a small smirk forming on his perfect mouth.

"Allow some time to get to know me, then." He states, voice low and gravelly. Gods, the way you'd lean in and press your mouth to his right now...

"Think about it?" He asks, eyes pleading. You nod, and he smiles, a small glimpse at his perfectly white teeth peeking through. You gasp.

"Aww... Azriel, you have a nice smile, don't you?" You coo. He shakes his head, a small blush creeping up his neck as he slips from your bed, shucking on his boots. You pad over to him, your hand playfully resting on his arm.

"Azzzz... all night, and I didn't even get to see it once?" You whine in humor. He rolls his eyes, grinning at your words.

"I guess you'll just have to say something that would make me really, really happy," he says. You feel a gentle pull in your chest, and you practically leap toward him. You chuckle, shoving the feeling out of the way.

"Mhm, nice try." You say with a wink. He mounts the windowsill, his hand gripping the top as he stares out. Ughhh his arm is the size of your head against the moonlight painted sky-

"Tomorrow then, Princess?" He says.

"Tomorrow, Shadowsinger." He grins, leaping from the opening and flying into the night.

✧･ﾟ: *

Your days continue in the same pattern; your father and brother ignoring you for the most part, you filling Mrs. Julie in on the little that you know about what's going on (and continuing to feel bad about keeping Azriel a secret from her), and sneaking the Spymaster in at night to pore over your fathers documents and study his war plans with Hybern.

Though no moves have been made yet, Azriel keeps telling you to be on your defenses. You know you'll have to talk with your father soon, and time is running out, but with his daily meetings, you find less-than-opportune moments in each day.

Its been about two weeks now since Azriel first came around, and your day had been the same as usual. Your father had no meetings today, but Graysen was preoccupying him, which meant of course, no discussion. Nonetheless, you still found yourself being summoned after dinner.

That's odd. He never called for you.

As you arrived to the main floor, the attendant led you down the hallway, and your footsteps slowed as you approached none other than...

Your father's study. Your heart sank.

"I don't know what else you want me to say, father, I didn't do it!" The hard slam of what sounded like a fist on a table had you jumping, and the attendant left you at the doorway. You leaned in close, straining to hear the conversation inside.

"Well, someone was fucking in here because all of our plans and deals made with the Queens are missing, Graysen." Your father chides. His tone is angry, rising in octave. "I told you how serious this situation is-"

"I know its fucking serious!" Your brother yells. You raise your eyebrows. You've never heard him yell at your father before, and all be damned if you even considered-

A sharp slap of skin on skin cracks through the air, immediate silence following it. Your hand covers your mouth, eyes wide in shock. You try very hard to listen as the conversation continues.

"Don't you ever raise your voice at me like that again, boy." You father says, lethally calm. In an instant, you hear heavy footsteps and dart out of the way, the door being thrown open and Graysen running through it. His eyes meet yours only for an instant, his face the expression of only a trained killer — you shudder. There’s no way you’d ever be able to be honest with him about what you were. He wouldn’t hesitate to take you out, just as he planned to do aligning with that vile King beyond the wall-

“Y/N. In my study. Now.”

You hastily move inside, trying to remain calm as your father rounds his desk, pressing his fingertips to the surface. You’d expect him to sit, but he makes no move. Instead, he peers down at the wood as you stand motionless in the center of the room.

“I’ll get right to the point.” He grunts, and you chew the inside of your cheek nervously. “Did you enter this study at all within the last few days?”

His eyes detach from the desk, meeting yours before you shake your head, and his lips press into a thin line.

“I’ll only repeat myself once. Did. You. Enter-“

“NO, father, would you truly believe I’d deceive you?” You cut in. His eyes blaze with anger, only a flare, and you realize you’ve hit your mark. Definitely no talking him into changing course tonight.

“I believe you’d do what you need to in order to protect someone you love, or so you think.” He spats. You scowl.

“What are you-“

“Oh don’t paint me a fool, Y/N. I’m not so blind to notice my daughter spending more time in her room than out in the fresh air, out in the garden where you’ve spend it your entire life.” He reaches to the shelf behind him, chucking a pair of new gloves at you. You catch them, and flare at him.

“So what? I haven’t been gardening-“

“Because you stay awake at night. Talking to some male who you’ve been sneaking into my home, MY PALACE, THINKING I WOULDN’T NOTICE-“

Rage fills your every vein, and you unlock the tiny vault in the back of your mind that you promised not to; the most precious secret you’d only let out when the time was right.

Oh, Azriel would be so proud of you for this. Finally defending yourself against what you know is wrong.

“IT WON’T BE YOURS FOR MUCH LONGER IF YOU KEEP TREATING ME THIS WAY.” You bellow. Your chest rises and falls, and his eyes pierce your soul the way he’s glaring at you.

A few agonizingly slow beats of silence pass, your father's fury only intensifying in his stare. You brace for the impact of his words, but when he opens his mouth, the only tone that comes out is lethally calm.

"What. The Hell did you just say to me, girl?" He asks. You gulp, fear beginning to creep into your mind.

Stand your ground, you can practically hear Azriel's voice in your mind. A shadow outside your father's window passes, only catching you off-guard for a moment before you meet his eyes again. Your hands ball into fists, and you take a steadying breath.

"This palace... won't be yours. For much longer." You say, hating how unconfident you sound. His anger turns to confusion, and you continue. You choose this moment, right now, to try and convince your father of a new strategy. He's always more malleable when angry, anyway.

"If you align yourself with that King... you're only damning yourself father, damning us all, and you know it-" You start, and he barks out a cruel laugh, shaking his head and looking down at his desk.

"Please -- don't pretend you know anything about this war-"

"I might not," You bite out. "But I do know how to help the humans. And aligning with a fae King who only intends to use you as a slave seems..." You trail off. He cocks an eyebrow.

"Go on, since you're so full of ideas today, go on. Let's hear how you really feel about my choices in protecting our lands." He smirks cruelly. You glare at him.

"It's idiotic father! It's rediculous, it's... it's not well-thought out, I'm trying to explain that I have something that could truly help you-"

"I think I've heard enough of your play-pretend theories for today. This kingdom is mine, and anyone who intends to take it will have to kill me for it." As if on cue, a group of your father's knights from his finest cavalry storms the room, grabbing your arms and halting you to your position. You flail your arms wildly, kicking beneath the thin fabric of your skirts.

"Get the Hell off me! Father what are you-"

"I don't know how you managed to get in here, or what you thought you were going to do with whatever you found," he snarls, drawing closer to you. "But when I find out who you sent to do your dirty work and what exactly you stole; believe me, no debt goes unpaid, little girl." You bare your teeth, pupils flaring in rage against the cruel King before you. He staggers back a step, looking you up and down in slight horror.

"Take her down to the service cellars." He commands, and metal scrapes against its own as the soldiers hoist you up and lead you from the room. Through your thrashing and hollering, you hear one last order from your father before the heavy doors swing shut.

"Do NOT let her out!"

✧･ﾟ: *

You can't help but pace once more, only this time, you're in the dirty, dank cellar. The dirt walls feel suffocating around you -- the only source of light are the torches on the walls and a small, barred window on the wall near the ceiling. Night has fallen, and you continue to walk back and forth, thinking hard about everything that you read, everything your father said to you.

He knew you'd been sneaking someone in. Did he know it was a fae male? Probably not, or else Azriel would surely be dead by now. Although perhaps this was part of a bigger scheme, to continue to draw the Shadowsinger practically to his doorstep every night, while he lay in wait...

Stop. You shook your head, not wanting to think of the possibility of anything happening to Azriel.

Azriel.

Your thoughts are flooded with images of his mossy, hazel eyes peering into yours in the moonlight. The way his tan skin looked, decorated with those swirling tattoos all over his massive biceps. His silky black hair, how it would feel to run your hands through it as he finally pulled you in close for a kiss-

STOP. There are more imoportant matters at hand right now. And... you're in a cell. You had to find some way out.

What was it, that got your father so angry to throw you down here in the first place? To lock you up for Gods know how long? Was it your backtalking? Surely not -- though Graysen had done it, and earned himself a slap to the face. Was it... your "scheming"? He practically called that child's play.

Although he really didn't like when you talked about his crown not being his after the war.

Your mind went back to the other night -- you and Azriel sat on your bed, poring over the pages you'd taken and you had picked up Graysen's birth certificate. When you looked closer at it, really close; it turns out, he's not first in line for your father's crown like everyone believed him to be.

You are.

The revelation had you feeling sick, not that you even wanted to rule such a kingdom on your own, and you couldn't believe you and your brother had not shared the cruel father you were forced to grow up with. Even worse -- that man was your true father, and you hoped to be nothing like him. Did Graysen know? Surely not. Did your father?

He had to. That would explain his outburst from earlier.

Gods, how you wished Azriel were here. The longer your feet create a path in the dirt, the more and more you think about his offer to bring you with him to his own home -- how lovely it would be to escape this Hellhole, this life of nothing in general; to see him whenever you like, and never live in fear of being with him.

You're pulled from your thoughts when you hear a commotion from down the hallway, a clammoring of what sounded like heavy metals and rustling from down the corridor. You jump toward the bars of your enclosure, sticking a hand through and calling out.

"Please! Someone please!" You call. Tendrils of green seep from beneath your palms, and you place them against the bars; only to fly back a moment later in pain. The planes of your hands feel as though they've been burnt off as red-hot searing spikes shoot through your skin. You shakily stare at them, the red skin prickling with the injury. Tears line your waterline, and you fight to reign them in. Through your pain-induced haze, you hear the commotion continue -- shouting and metal colliding down the corridor.

Until it all goes quiet. You make to stand, noticing thte burning in your palms already beginning to lessen with each passing minute. Approaching the barred entrance wearily, you look out, but see nothing except empty, black, nothingness. You let out a sigh of defeat, and turn to make way back into your prison.

The soft jangling of keys turns your attention back to the gate, and your eyes widen as the door swings open.

"Miss Julie?" You whisper shout. She holds a finger to her lips, motioning you forward.

"Come child -- be hushed, there are guards still lingering," she says. You stare at her incredulously as she pulls you in for an embrace, and when she releases you, her eyes are lined with tears.

"I can't believe he'd truly lock you away," She mutters, and you shake your head.

"Miss Julie, I can't thank you enough for coming to get me out." You whisper, as she takes your hand and begins leading you toward the service stairs.

"Oh, don't thank me dear; you can thank that handsome male of yours, do tell me his name?" She asks, smirking sidelong at you. You shoot her an incredulous look.

"What are you talking abou-"

"Pshhh, please," She tutts. "You could've just told me you had a lover, Y/N. A handsome one, at that." She giggles. Your cheeks burn red.

"Miss Julie, I don't know who you're-"

"Y/N," Azriel pants breathlessly, and you whip around to watch as he appears on the other side of the kitchen. You gasp, quickly sidestepping the soldiers on the floor of the room to get to him. You paw at his chest, his jacket, even caressing his face.

"Azriel its-" He chuckles, still fighting to catch his breath.

"Yes, its really me, Princess." He says. You can't help the tears that begin to spill over, his hands braced on his knees as he works to stand up straight. You don't hesitate to jump into his arms once he's at his full height; and he lets out a sigh of relief as he holds you tight against him.

"Y/N, are you alright?" He asks, setting you down gently. When your feet hit the dirt, you turn your gaze to his, nodding slightly as tears continue to fall. You can't help but notice the blood staining his left ear and trailing down his jaw; splatters covering the leathers he's wearing. You pull back to give him a once-over, but he takes your hands in his and pulls you flush against him once more, his right hand cradling the back of your head to his chest as the other wraps around your waist.

"I'm so sorry... I came as soon as I could." You look up at him, and he looks down to you with sorrow in his eyes. You can't help but smile at him, thanking the Gods for sending the one person you needed right now. You notice his eyes looking beyond you, and you pull back to turn to Miss Julie once more.

"So... you've... met, huh?" Miss Julie giggles, and Azriel nods.

"Unfortunate circumstances, but... I'm glad he appeared when he did, or those fools would've been on me in an instant." She gestures to the countless soldiers on the floor. You can only look between the two of them.

"Azriel, how did you -- nevermind." You say, shaking your head. He raises an eyebrow, dipping low so his face is closer to yours. You grin wildly at the closeness, never feeling happier or more relieved in your life. Miss Julie makes a point to silently walk toward the stairs and out of sight of the two of you.

"Of course you'd know, Spymaster." He grins, and you let out a small laugh. His grin widens into a full on smile, and his arm around your waist tightens as he pulls you onto your tippy-toes to finally press his lips to yours. You seem to melt into him, feeling like jelly in his hands. His other hand caresses your jaw, and that lovely, familiar feeling inside of your chest burns brighter and brighter-

"Agh-" You pull back, putting your hand over your heart as you feel the tightness of a golden lasso clenching around it. You stare wildly at Azriel, and his eyes widen.

"Y/N you're... do you feel it?" He asks, his hand over yours tenderly. You look down, and warmth floods your veins at the realization of what is happening. You mentally give the rope a pull, and Azriel's eyes flick back up towards yours. He smiles again, and you slide your hand along his jaw, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

"I'm just glad to finally see you smile, Shadowsinger." He kisses you with all the passion he has, hands roaming over your waist and playfully dipping lower to cup your ass in your large hands. You let out an involuntary groan, and he releases you, only to peer down at you with pure love and adoration.

The moment ends all too short, as a sharp cry rings out from your left. Moments later, you spot a crumpled mass on the floor at the bottom of the staircase.

"Miss Julie!" You shout, thundering over to her, eyes wide in horror as she clutches her side in agony. Two metal-clad knights descend the stairs, swords drawn as Azriel is at your side in an instant.

"Get behind me-" His arm his protectively in front of you, blue siphon ablaze as he yanks a blade from its sheath. All you want to do is fall to your knees and fix this; fix it all, save Miss Julie.

But you can't. Rage takes over your mind, more explosive than you've ever felt. More explosive than in the study. More explosive than when your father locked you in a cage. More explosive-

"NOT A CHANCE." Azriel has the good intention to get out of your way as you rear back, unleashing your pure, unfiltered power upon the soldier nearest you. It slamas into him in an instant, throwing him to the ground and paralyzing him all too quickly. Azriel takes his time, fighting with the other armed guard before plowing him to the floor, wings expertly tucked behind him to avoid taking any of the force.

Green flares erupt around you, growing in size with each passing minute. You look around, blinking and trying to clear your thoughts. You wanted to kill. Your father. His armies. That fae King for doing this to you. All of them should pay-

"Y/N." Azriel's sharp voice cuts through your thoughts like a knife, and you turn your attention to him. Miss Julie coughs, and you both rush to her.

"Y/N, we don't have a lot of time..."

"Can you fix this?" You ask, another tear streaming down your face as Miss Julie's eyes begin to darken. Azriel shakes his head gravely, and you heave before letting out a scream, shaking the walls and causing pans to hit the floor with the force. Miss Julie only takes your cheek in her hand softly.

"My sweet child," she whispers. You sob, tears falling onto her smock and staining it. "Don't cry-"

"Miss Julie you can't leave me!" You rasp, coughing as smoke begins to filter through the air. She gives you a small smile as her breathing begins to slow.

"I'll never leave you, my dear." She says. "But... you shouldn't leave him." Her eyes only widen an inch, and you glance to Azriel. You cry harder when you notice a tear falling from his face as well. He slips a hand over her heart, and she grasps it, smiling fondly.

"He is good, Y/N. He is a good... a good male..." she drifts off. You grit yoru teeth, grabbing her shoulders and throwing yourself onto her in a tight embrace. You continue to cry, and you feel Azriel's hand stroking your back comfortingly as he did those nights ago. You stay there for a few more minutes, the smoke burning your eyes as he tries his best to fan it away with his wings.

"Y/N... we have to go..." he says. You sniffle, allowing him to help you up as you press one last kiss to her cheek. He pulls you out the side door, flames nearing the spot you were just sitting. He continues to pull, hand in hand, through the chilly night air toward the thick forest at the back of your estate.

After a few long minutes of silence, he speaks first.

"Listen Princess... I know you have a kingdom here that you could have, but,"

"Take me with you." He stops, wide eyes blinking at you in shock.

"Are you sure?" He asks quietly. You look to him, nodding in confirmation and squeezing his hand tighter.

"Everything she said was right Azriel; I can't be who I am here, and I know you're a good male. You're..." you choke back another sob, and he slows his pace to wipe away a stray tear on your cheek. "You're a good male. I want to be somewhere I know I'll be safe. I know if I'm with you, I'm in good hands." He looks like he could fall to his knees at your words, and the corner of your lips tilts upward in a sad smile, shadows of smoke and emerald curling around the two of you.

Like calls to like, that's what they always say, right?

"Then allow me to show you the way to your new palace, Princess."

✧･ﾟ: *

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ninthcircleofprythian · 2 days

Text

Unbound

Part 3 - We're Going To Solstice Dinner --- And We're Gonna Get Married

Series Summary - Not having a mating bond didn't stop the love Azriel and Celeste have for each other or their commitment. When an unknown magic lingering from Celeste's past causes her to lose all memories of the last century, will they be able to rebuild their life without a bond tethering them together?

Word Count - 3.7k

Warnings - light swearing

Author's Notes - Last of the background chapters before we head into present time. This is just pure sweet fluff.

Part 1 Part 2

Azriel winnowed to the doorstep of the River House at exactly the time they had planned. Taking a moment to adjust the collar of his dark suit and checking his inner jacket pocket for the small box once more. He gathered a deep breath of chilled winter air into his lungs and exhaled, attempting to steady his frazzled nerves. The exhale escaped him in more of a stutter than he intended, but before his galloping heartbeat could get the best of him, he swung open the door without even bothering to knock.

“Well, well, well,” came Cassian’s voice from the dining room as Az made his appearance in the foyer. “Look who decided to finally grace us with his presence.”

Az joined the gathered group scattered around the dining room, sidling over to the bar where Rhys was pouring. “Thought you might need this,” he chuckled, handing Az a half filled glass. “The speculation is in full force already.” Rhys clapped a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. With a low whisper he leaned closer to Az’s ear, where the shadows' own speculation was also in full force. “You alright brother?”

Azriel swallowed slowly, savoring the oaky blend and allowing the burn in his throat to ground him somewhat. “Yeah.”

“Was she free tonight?” Feyre questioned from her seat on the bar sofa. “Is she coming?”

“She had dinner plans already,” Az watched Feyre’s face fall with disappointment. “But she’s coming for gifts after.”

Feyre’s face switched quickly to joy as she clapped her hands and squealed.

“Honestly, you all act like Shadowsinger has never had a lover before.” Amren posited dryly from her seat next to Mor on the opposite loveseat.

“He’s never brought one around to meet us before,” Mor stated as she lounged, legs crossed in her silvery gown, her own glass of whiskey in hand.

“This isn’t just any lover. This is the lover,” Nesta’s slitted eyes met Azriel’s as she joined the conversation from behind Mor. “Isn’t that right Az?”

Azriel felt the sweat crop up along his palms and he readjusted his tenuous hold on the whiskey glass. Before he could gather enough brainpower to respond, Rhys cut in. “Please, let’s not torture the poor guy all night. We will meet her soon enough, she’s coming after dinner.” Rhys’s hand squeezed on Az’s shoulder before vacating. “So let’s eat.”

“Finally,” Cassian sighed, already claiming his seat and rubbing his hands together over the tabletop.

“Is that all your brain thinks about Cassian? Food?” Amren asked with a grimace.

“Not the only thing dear Amren. As a matter of fact it’s the three F’s,” Cassian beamed a sly smile in Amren’s direction. “Fighting, Food and Fuc—”

“Cassian.” Rhys warned with a snap as Mor guffawed loudly and Feyre cracked out a laugh. Mor ambled over to sit in the seat next to Nesta, Amren having already taken the one to her other side.

“No, slide down Mor.” Nesta instructed, waving her hand. “Celeste is coming too.”

At the sound of her name Azriel felt his heart pause before slamming back into rhythm with a start. The color had fled from his face a bit causing a reaction from Cassian next to him.

“Feeling alright there Azzy boy?” Cassian elbowed him harshly. “Having second thoughts?”

Once again Rhys stepped in. “I said enough, Cas.” This time the look wasn’t as lighthearted in Cassian’s direction. His violet eyes darkening, Rhys took his seat at the other end of the table next to his mate.

Azriel gave an appreciative nod in Rhys' direction. “No. No second thoughts,” he began as he drained the last of his whiskey. “I’m just starving. Kicking your ass earlier today really worked up an appetite.”

A pattering wave of laughter spread around the table as Elain took her seat at the end, right between Amren and Azriel. “I made something special for dessert, aside from Feyre’s cake of course.” She smiled sweetly towards her sister. “For the special occasion.” She swiveled her sweet smile towards Azriel.

He returned the gesture with a soft countenance. “Thank you Elain. That was very kind.”

A knock rang through the entryway, feeling almost as loud as Azriel’s heartbeat.

“That’s probably Celeste.” Nesta declared as she rose to answer the door. Azriel glanced at his empty glass and silently wished he had brought the bottle to the table with him.

“I’m so sorry I’m late.” her lustrous voice carried like a song. “I hope you weren’t waiting on my account.”

“No no, we just sat down. You haven’t missed anything.” Nesta leaned into Celeste’s ear with a conspiratorial grin as she whispered, “His secret lover won’t be coming until after dinner.” Celeste bit down a little too hard on her lip in a smirk as Nesta led her to the seat next to herself.

Settling herself into her seat, Celeste ran a smoothing hand over her silver dress, drawing Azriel’s attention to the flare of her hips. “Great minds think alike,” she commented toward Mor with a nod.

Noticing the similarly colored dresses they both wore, Mor gave a giggle. “They do! You look stunning Celeste, that’s definitely your color.” Turning to face the rest of the table, “Ok let’s dig in. I’m ready for presents.”

The food made its rotation around the table, passed from plate to plate. The conversations picked up immediately and the buzz filled the room. Azriel sat quietly in observance, his brain also buzzing with no room to think up small talk.

“Wine?” Elain offered as she tipped the bottle toward his empty glass.

With a flick of his wrist he waved, the shadows covering the opening to his glass before he could answer. “No thank you. I’m fine.” The last thing he needed tonight was to allow his nerves to get the best of him and end up drunk before the grand reveal.

He risked a quick peek across the table, catching sight of Celeste’s stately profile. The smile that graced her face, crinkling the scar across her nose, was true and bright. Suddenly, her eyes popped open wide as her brows shot up nearly to her hairline. Whatever piece of gossip Nesta was whispering between them must have been piping hot. A few supremely salacious words made their way to Azriel’s ears between the hum of other conversations, color rising along his cheeks at the scene they painted.

“If you think that’s spicy,” Cassian leaned to Az’s shoulder. “You should hear what possibilities Nes has been spinning about you and your lady friend.” Cas winked at his brother with a nudge. Luckily Rhys was far enough down the table to not hear the teasing and give Cassian yet another warning, but Nes did shoot him an icy glare from across the table. A swift bang echoed from under the table just as Cassian yelped, reaching down to rub at his shin with a laugh.

The exclamations and occasional laughs eventually died down around the table to barely a droll as they all sat around satiated on rich food and wine.

Right on schedule, a slip of paper fluttered down from thin air directly above Celeste’s place setting. Reading it with a studied brow, she apologized. “Oh no. I’m so sorry. I have to head out,” she flipped the note pointedly in her hand. “Duty calls.”

Azriel’s heart ramped back up to a gallop as he consciously slipped into his mask of indifference. The smooth execution of her act almost caused a nervous noise to escape him.

“Nothing too serious I hope?” Rhys said with slight concern.

“Oh no. Nothing terribly urgent. I actually have a moment or two before I need to leave.” She rose swiftly from the table, her hand slipping casually into her anxious tell that Az recognized immediately. “Actually Rhysand, would you mind if I passed along my gifts before I left?”

“Not at all,” he gestured widely with an arm toward the living room. “We were about to head there ourselves.”

At his cue the scrape of chairs sounded, the chatter rising to a hum again. Feyre stepped from Rhys’s side as he headed across the foyer and she held back her steps to fall in line with Az.

“I’m about to burst with anticipation, I can’t imagine how you must be feeling. I’m just so excited to meet her Az,” she panted out in a rush. Azriel extended his elbow in a request to escort Feyre across the short distance.

“Soon,” he said richly. “Very soon.”

Knowing that Celeste hadn’t brought gifts for everyone since she was really only close with Nesta and Mor, they all milled about in preparation to wait for their impending guest.

Nesta and Mor had seated themselves next to each other on the sofa. Az directed Feyre into the third seat on the cushions, as he took a leaning seat on the arm of the furniture. Cas and Rhys were chatting casually next to the armchair where Elain sat placidly, tiny Amren nearly being engulfed in the one next to her. Celeste swept over to the window where the pile of presents had materialized with Rhys’ magic as soon as they had entered the room.

Plucking an armful from the top of the stack she deftly turned to pass them out.

“To our gracious hosts for gathering us all here tonight,” two packages were handed out to the mates. Feyre carefully opened the petite package, thanking Celeste gratefully for the shimmering paint additive to create glimmering paints.

“It’s wonderful, Celeste. Thank you.” Rhys’ thanks carried as he held up a dark amber liquid in a beautiful crystal cut bottle.

Azriels attention was elsewhere as his shadows pulled against the mental leash he was holding them on, wanting to reach out and gather around Celeste as she stood so close. She watched Nesta and Mor open equally thoughtful gifts, but his eye caught the movement of her hand. Thumb tucked between her fingers worrying at the webbing between them. Until tonight, it was something he hadn’t seen her do in months.

This is it. This is it. This is it.

His heart and his shadows pulsed to the thoughts. At just the right moment, a small thump sounded in the quiet and another small package fell onto the large pile by the window.

“Is that my birthday present?” Feyre asked her mate with glee in her eye. Rhys just shrugged, corners of his mouth pulled down as he answered. “That wasn’t me.”

Nesta had already leaned down and held the positively tiny box in her palm. “It has your name on it.” She passed the package off to Celeste with a quizzical look crossing her brow.

“Whose it from?” asked Mor, with an equally puzzled quirk.

“I don’t know,” a cautious smile blooming across her face. “It doesn’t say.” Without waiting for any prompting, she tore off the scrap of paper and revealed a small cobalt velvet box. By this point, the mention of a mysterious gifter had gained interest of the entire party as they turned their attention to the tiny package as well.

This is it. This is it. This is it.

Celeste’s hands shook slightly as she touched the soft crush of the fabric exterior. Even though this plan had been mostly her idea and she knew what was happening, she still felt like she was about to jump out of her skin.

Rocking the top of the box back on smooth hinges, she gasped. A truly shocked and surprised gasp. What she had expected to be nestled in the tiny ring box were the simple gold bands that Azriel had rushed off to buy at the very last minute in preparation for this plan.

Instead what she saw glittering next to the gold band meant for Az, was a twined band of beautiful obsidian and pristine white gold. Set between the intersecting waves of each color, seven flecks of sapphire blue shimmered around the entire ring. Unbeknownst to Celeste, he had switched out the ring with the one he had been secretly stashing in his top dresser drawer for the last six months.

“What is it?” asked Elain, her hand laid on her chest in anticipation at Celeste’s shock.

“Who. Is. It. From?” Mor practically shouted, the suspense nearly killing her.

All the bodies in the room had collectively begun holding their breath without even realizing it.

Instead of the racing heart and pounding chest he had expected to feel in this moment, the only thing Azriel felt was peace and the pull of his shadows trying to rush to Celeste’s frame. Holding them back for just a moment longer he righted himself from his perch on the sofa arm and with a flare of his wings he stepped forward to meet her in the middle of the room.

“It’s from me,” his deep voice rang clear. His scarred hand swiftly plucked the box from Celeste’s open palm and he removed the ring, setting the box on the low table to his right. Grasping her left hand he carefully slipped the ring over her thumb, following the tradition of her birthplace. The shadows now released from their leash, they swept furiously over their joined hands. “To my sweetheart on her first Solstice – as my wife .”

Everyone watched the scene playing out, their racing thoughts still catching up to the moment they had just witnessed. Before anyone could utter a single noise, Az had slipped one arm around Celeste’s waist, the other reaching into her hair along her neck and swooped in for a burning kiss.

He felt her knees go weak as he deepened into the kiss, supporting her body with the arm encircling around her back. Drawing back, he pressed his forehead against hers. Gasps and voices erupted around them, but he just stood there gazing into Celeste’s eyes, tears cresting over her lashes.

“Breathe,” Az whispered against her temple.

Drawing in a shuddering breath, Celeste leaned briefly from his grasp. Her knees still a little shaky as she grabbed the box and pulled out the band. Turning back into Az’s hold, she slipped it over his own thumb.

“Happy Solstice Az – my husband.” The last two words came out in a trembling whisper as her tears flowed in earnest now.

“Ok. I’ll admit, I didn’t know it this time,” Mor threw up her hands in defeat.

Nesta, forgoing her normally severe resting face, held a mirthful smile. “Oh this is too good. I need to know everything,” she laughed. “Pronto.”

Feyre had jumped from her seat, bouncing on the balls of her feet, hands clasped by her throat and tears in her eyes. “You two? The whole time?! Oh gods. Oh Az—Celeste. I can't believe it–I–I.”

“What she’s trying to say,” Rhys said, ringing the room to face the happy couple. “Is we are thrilled for you both. Congratulations.” His eyes met Az’s with loving words that needn’t be spoken. “What a reveal,” he chuffed out.

“How wonderful!” Elain exclaimed breathily as she clutched onto Amren’s arm from her seat.

“Nicely done, Shadowsinger.” Amren piped up from her seat, still sitting primly with no sign of surprise upon her face, but a shimmering silver could be seen glinting from her lower lashes. “Very nicely done.”

“It was all her idea really,” Az credited as he turned his eyes back to Celeste’s face where she held a smile big enough to make her cheeks ache.

“I never knew you were such a romantic, Amren.” Rhys teased.

“Enough out of you, boy.” She glared, attempting to swipe away the wetness before anyone else noticed.

The only one who hadn’t said anything, still standing to the side in open mouth surprise, was Cassian. Finally jump-starting his brain into working, he rounded a path around Rhys and approached the couple. With arms spread wide, he practically jerked Azriel into a bone crushing hug.

“Congrats brother,” he whispered tearfully into Az’s ear. “I am so very happy for you.”

Azriel’s hold on Celeste fell as he returned his brother’s affection. Cassian held on a few moments more before pulling back promptly and switching his attention to Celeste. Before Azriel could react, Cas had grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her in, planting a loud smacking kiss to her cheek. “Welcome to the family, Celeste. It’s a hell of a ride.”

A low growl left Azriel’s chest but it was quickly dissipated by the astonishingly luminous laugh that burst out of Celeste.

“Thank you, Cassian. I look forward to spending more time in your company,” she managed to get out through her laughter.

“Ha!” Cas shot out, roughly clapping a hand on Celeste’s shoulder. “I knew I liked you.”

Hours passed and the mood in the room had mellowed into a comfortably tired rhythm of twilight. Wrapping paper littered the floor and various surfaces and open gifts piled in front of their receivers. Amren, Mor and Elain had already called it a night, leaving just the couples gathered in the heat emanating from the fireplace. Celeste was tucked into Azriel's side on the sofa next to him and engaged in a lively conversation with Nesta who was perched on Cassian’s lap in the armchair next to them. Feyre and Rhys just listened intently, an occasional word between them as their hands hung joined between their two seats.

Azriel very much wanted to call it a night as well considering it was technically their wedding night but as he watched the happiness on his wife’s face in the firelight he decided he could wait just a bit longer. They had forever after all. As he watched the light reflected in Celeste’s eyes, he was flooded with a sudden and intense pull from the depths of the chasm inside him. A feeling of happiness and contentment and a twinge of melancholy.

Trying to hide the burn that welled up in his throat and threatened to reach his eyes, Az used the pause in conversation to whisper against Celeste’s hair.

“And where is this other part of my present?”

She shot upright exclaiming, “I forgot all about it!” Leaning toward the low table, she snatched her tiny purse and rummaged inside, pulling out a package about the length of her hand. “Here,” she smiled wickedly as she plopped it in his hand.

Az pulled the twine bow and ran his thick finger through the paper, tearing it in one large rip. He tipped the contents of the box into his palm to reveal a heavily weighted, golden cup. Rotating it around, he read the inscription written across the platformed stand attached to the bottom.

“I heard it's tradition to give the trophy away every year,” Celeste said mellowly. “So I thought you might want one to keep. It seemed like too lucky a number to not commemorate.”

The burn had already breached past his throat and into his eyes and he no longer tried to rein it in. He pushed out a small choked laugh between the tears.

Swiveling to look at Celeste directly, Az met her gaze. “Yeah. Turns out it was very lucky.”

Leaning in, Celeste brushed a soft kiss to his lips before he deepened it with fervor.

“Aw Az, it looks like someone did bet on you after all!” Cassian crooned from beside him as the sisters released pattering giggles. Azriel’s lips still pressed to hers, Celeste joined in with a giggle of her own.

“Well, actually–” she pulled away sheepishly. “I waited until I knew you won before I had them finish the engraving.”

Jerking back slightly in surprise, Az’s eyebrows shot up in amusement before he twisted them into theatrical pain and clutched at his chest.

“Solidarity brother!” Cas shouted with a barking laugh.

This time it was Azriel’s booming laugh that rang loud, joining in the resounding ones of his brothers. Celeste felt her own twinge low in her gut as she basked in the sound, tucking it away in her memory for keeps.

Taglist - @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @chairofchaos

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfiction #azriel acotar #azriel x oc #azriel x original character #acotar fanfiction #acotar series #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #azriel fluff

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