#I really think he should make Azriel cry. just a little | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fieldofdaisiies · 1 year ago

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Just a Little Bit of Your Heart pt. II

ship: Azriel x Reader type: angst word count: 3,3k warnings: curse words, mentions of a one night stand, unexpected pregnancy summary: an appointment with Madja reveals more about your condition; fic masterlist

It hurts.

Azriel has always wanted a mate. Azriel has always wanted to be in love. Azriel has always wanted a child. A family. To be a father. He has never spoken this wish out loud, has always kept it to himself, but deep inside his mind and heart the thought has always been there.

He never deemed himself worthy, yet still he has always wanted a family. A family with his mate. A home where their children would be joyfully running around.

But now things are different and he is sure he is not worthy of the life he created. With you. A female he spent a night with. Not his mate. Not his wife.

You are wonderful and brilliant… He had never planned on risking your life just for one night of pleasure and fun. He had never wanted what is happening here, right now.

Under different circumstances – if you had been his mate or wife– you would have talked about children before trying to conceive. You would have talked about the potential risk of the wings.

But how it is now, you were given no choice. You had no choice. He ruined your life...risked it just for his pleasure.

You are becoming a mother. He is becoming a father. Sooner than expected. And not planned.

You are a female he has been intimate for only one time. He doesn’t even really know you, you don’t know him and yet he put a baby inside of you. A baby with wings. A baby that can risk your life.

His throat constricts so much it makes it hard for him to swallow, the back of his mouth is burning, his eyes feeling like salt has been sprinkled into them.

His scarred fingers curl tighter around the counter, his gaze solely focused on you.

A small whimper parts your lips, Madja's hands are as carefully as possible pressing down on your belly. "The bleeding…since when has this been going on?" Her voice is soft, gentle.

But Azriel is immediately on alert. He straightens up, leans forward, forehead lying in furrows as he looks between you and the healer. Panic courses through his veins, an icy shiver dancing down his spine.

You haven't told him about the bleeding, not wanting to worry him unnecessarily. He already worries too much, you did not want to add more on top of hos remorse and regrets. And the bleeding hasn’t been going on for too long. It has only started…

"A few days ago." You avert your gaze, not wanting to see her expression. You know you should have contacted a healer earlier, but you thought the bleeding would just go away again.

"How much is a few?" Madja raises her brow at you, a bit of reprimanding lacing in her voice and shimmering in her eyes.

"Three days, I think."

Majda purses her lips, her expression as if she is deep in thought. And she probably is. Her fingers stroke over your skin again, you cringe, and suck in a sharp inhale. The pain is quite vivid, and as much as you don't want to let it show, you can't hide it.

Hands placed on your belly, she presses down gently and it feels like something shifts inside you, like the baby is turning and a low cry of pain leaves you.

Icy claws pierce into Azriel's heart at the sound, and he curls his fingers towards his palms. He knows it isn't Madja's intention to hurt you, but she is hurting you...his...his...the mother of his unborn child and that is enough for him to be on edge.

"It is what I thought…" She looses a long breath and finally lifts her head to meet your gaze. There are many emotions you can't place, except for one: worry.

"The tips of the talons are scratching against the inside of your womb, that is where the bleeding comes from. Your hips and womb are not made for a baby — an Illyrian baby— with wings. There is not enough room for the wings."

You know this. Azriel knows this. Everyone knows this. But hearing it...it hurts and makes concern spread out again. Throughout your entire being, and you shudder.

You turn your head a little, a sad smile on your lips when your gaze lands on the father of the unborn child.

Azriel, his expression pained, eyes dead, pushes off the counter and stalks over to you, and places his hand on your shoulder. It is just a small gesture, but it calms your rapidly beating heart, and makes the tears that started to build up in your eyes disappear.

"But there is a chance for…" Azriel's voice is hoarse. He can't finish the sentence.

"There is a chance both the baby and��your—Y/N will survive. We only need to get the babe out quite a few weeks earlier, and with a C-section. And that quite a few weeks earlier. Meaning in the next few weeks."

That is so early. Too early. But you trust Madja.

And so, you find yourself nodding, accepting everything if it means you and especially the little baby growing inside of you will survive.

Turning your head, you find Azriel looking at you, expression pained and worried. But you nod slowly, a smile appearing on your lips. "It will be fine," you whisper.

He does not react, only holds your gaze and that for a long moment. The shadows dance around him, stretching out, curling and swirling, brushing over your belly in calming, soothing motions.

It is almost like they can sense the life growing inside of you, and they probably can, somehow communicating with the little babe. Comforting it. It feels like they are whispering, 'It will be alright, and we will get to know you, little faerie. We took care of your father, and we will take care of you.'

Azriel's grip on your shoulder tightens, his fingers pressing into your skin as if he needs something to ground him, an anchor. The weight of the news hangs heavy in the room, there is an undercurrent of tension, of uncertainty that courses through the both of you. Azriel opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, but the words catch in his throat.

Madja steps forward, her lips pursed while she regards the two of you for a moment. But when she speaks her voice is unwavering and soothing. "Y/N, Azriel, I need you to understand that this will not be easy, nothing of this pregnancy will be. The surgery will be dangerous. But we can do this. You can do this. After all, you have each other. And Y/N, you are never alone in this."

You draw in a deep inhale and turn to look at Azriel again.

He nods, his jaw clenched and turns his attention back to you, his eyes showing fear but also a little glimmer of hope. "You will be fine. We…" Azriel swallows thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing. "We will be a family."

You don't know if he is just saying this to comfort you, or if he really means it, but tears start to burn behind your eyes at the mention of you three being an actual family. The thought is too beautiful.

You smile through the pain, your love for the little baby coursing through every fibre of your being. And not only for the baby…

"I know, Az. We can do this."

Azriel's hand moves from your shoulder to gently cradle your cheek. "We'll get through this."

It feels lightning zaps between you, your eyes staying locked. You look deep into each others eyes, lost in the moment of this intense contact between your eyes. And your souls. Your chests warm from the inside out and something behind to glow deep inside of you.

His callused thumb brushes over your cheek and then Azriel closes his eyes. He turns his head a little, and so do you, now looking back at the healer.

Madja gives a small nod of approval. "Exactly. I'll start making preparations for the surgery. And we will talk again in a few days. If anything comes up, you have to tell me immediately. In the mean time I will give you some herbs and potions for the baby and for you, also something that will help with the bleeding. I tried to push in the wing a little, and it should be fine for now."

You exchange a look with Azriel. "Here." He offers you his hand for support as you climb down the healer's bed. You accept, carefully curling your cold fingers around his and—

"Your hands..."

Your didn't want to be straightforward, but the emotions and hormones get the best of you and often make you talk before thinking.

Silence stretches our for a moment, and it almost seems like he wants to pull his hand back, but you won't let him. "You can tell me later." Your thumb strokes over the back of his hand. "We have time."

The cool evening air greets you when you step outside the High Lord and Lady's estate where Madja looked over you. Azriel insisted on taking you home, and of course you agreed.

"Thank you," you say after a moment of walking, still holding onto his hand. It feels so good, so right.

Azriel is about to answer you, but gets no chance to do so.

Suddenly, an unexpected fae male collides with you, jostling you for a moment. He had probably rushed out of a shop and not seen you. The impact sent a shockwave through your body, and for a fleeting moment the world seems to spin. He hit you harder than expected, but he apologises immediately. Yet, Azriel has none of it. Azriel, with his graceful wings tucked against his back, stands tall, glowering at the male, holding him by his arm.

His anger and power stretch out like a dark cloud, the cobalt stones on his armour glowing vividly.

"Careful!" Azriel growls, a protective arm wrapped around you to shield you from the fae male. "Don't you see she is pregnant." His wings stretched out slightly, a dark, yet comforting shadow.

You slide your hand over Azriel's and look up at him. "Azriel," you say in a soothing tone. "He probably didn't notice."

"He still should be more careful." Azriel's arm lowers a little, fingers spread wide to cover a big part of your round belly. The touch is simultaneously tender and protective.

The fae male once again stammers an apology and quickly retreats from the scene, his eyes filled with regret as he rushes away.

Azriel's protective stance softens, but he keeps his arm around you. His fingers, resting on your belly, tracing comforting circles as he acknowledges, "He could have hurt you and the baby."

"It is alright," you whisper. "I am alright and so is the little babe."

He nods slowly, almost like he does not believe you, but you set out again. "Come on, lets go home it is getting cold out here."

His protective side is wonderful and you love it, but you don't want him to worry too much. You are fine, you've mentioned so many weeks, months without him knowing about the baby, managed your every day life without him. It is good having him now, but you can also still protect yourself.

You head home, Azriel not once removing his arm from around you, only when you step into your flat. The place where a short time ago you told him about everything.

"You want to stay for a little?" you offer, and Azriel accepts, nodding but not saying a word. He closes the door behind you, and you sit down on the couch, soon joined by the shadowy male.

"Somehow I imagined this all in a very different way. With a different outcome."

A cold chuckle parts Azriel's lips and he crosses his hands behind his neck before lowering them again to wipe his hands down his thighs. "Me too."

You give him a side-long look. "Just phenomenal sex and then never seeing you again."

"Is it so bad to see me again?" Azriel turns to you, his brow raised slightly. There is a sparkle in his eyes, and you know it comes from the mention of the phenomenal sex. Males…

"I would have preferred different circumstances," you answer honestly and move your hand over his. "But everything happens for a reason, so it is alright for me. I am alright with how things have turned out. And no, seeing you again is not at all bad. Quite the opposite actually."

He regards you for a long moment, not saying a word. There is still a glow in his eyes, but it is dimmed now, his whole posture slouching a little. He looses a long breath and stretches his legs.

"I feel like I destroyed your whole life." His chin falls to his chest, hands one again crossed behind his neck.

You immediately move close, your hand lifting and curling around his biceps. "Don't ever say that. Don't ever say something like that."

"But it is true!" He lifts his head and with eyes wide open looks at you. "The babe has wings because of me. Because I—"

"I wanted to sleep with you that night as well, knowing you have wings. I did not even think it would be an option to get pregnant that night. We both were sure we took the tonic and yet it happened. Receiving for fae is so difficult and still it happened. Azriel, everything happens for a reason and there is no blame on you."

You lift your hand and brush your finger tips over his face. "I gave you my consent that night. I wanted you in the same way you wanted me. I wanted to sleep with you, and I did not for one second think about the consequences — the possibility of becoming pregnant. Neither did you. The blame is not solely on you and will never be. For making a baby it always needs two people. I wanted fun that night. Pleasure, sex for no reason other than enjoying myself. And you wanted the same, we are both not innocent in this."

Your thumb catches a stray tear. Azriel turns his body to you, eyes not once leaving yours. He swallows thickly.

"You remember what I told you that night when we slept together?"

The corner of your mouth curls. "All the filthy things you whispered into my ear? Or when you told me to scream your name for everyone to hear?"

You raise your brow at the shadowsinger and give his hand a gentle squeeze. A smile blooms on your face, some lightness filling the gloomy atmosphere.

And it even makes Azriel chuckle a little, his eyes flashing as if he is remembering exactly what he said to you. And you do too, and a hot rush fills your entire being. But you bite down on your lower lip, and focus on what he wanted to tell you.

Azriel is smiling slightly, colour blooming high on his defined cheeks and he hums. "Apart from the filthy things."

His hand is holding yours and he meets your gaze. It almost feels like he can look right into your soul – like something connects your souls. Not the baby, something else...

"You told me that I am the most beautiful female you've ever seen, if I remember correctly."

Now, he is leaning in. "You do remember correctly. And nothing has changed about that."

Something has shifted, the tension and the desire from that night is back. The room feels warmer all of a sudden, him and his presence the only things on your mind. Almost fully on its own accord, your body leans into him.

Azriel's lips brush yours, his other hand coming up to cradle your face. "I still think so and it has nothing to do with the baby. It is you, and back then was also you. I saw you and wanted you."

He kisses you gently. "I wanted you like I’ve never wanted anything before. I've never felt like that before, and I am not just saying this right now. I mean it."

The next kiss is a little deeper, more passionate. His tongue sweeps over your lips, parting them and you allow him the entrance, lips melding. You lose yourself in him and the soft groans escaping him, accompanied by your sighs.

Azriel lets one hand slider under your shirt, his warm, callused palm placed on your bare skin. "May I?" he asks and you nod, although you don't even really know what he is asking for.

Azriel gets up, and down onto his knees in front of you.

He is crouched down in front you and the couch, his eyes filled with a mixture of tenderness and excitement as they meet yours. The only sound in the dimly lit room is the gentle rustling of Azriel's wings as he tucks them in, and for a moment you find yourself dreaming about a time where he teaches your child how to fly.

With tenderness visible in every line of his being, he reaches out and places his hands on your pregnant belly. The love in his touch is palpable, his fingers tracing the gentle curves of your bump as if he can feel the heartbeat of the little babe inside. Wonder and joy fills his eyes, and a few tears slip out of them.

The shadowsinegr leans in closer, his lips pressing a soft kiss onto your belly. You can feel the warmth of his breath and it sends a shiver of happiness down your spine. His love for the little babe reaches you and your own tears roll down your cheeks. "Our baby," he whispers, voice quivering.

Your heart swells, and happiness over the life growing inside of you outrules the worry and the fear about it having wings.

You can't help but smile, your hand moving to rest atop his.

The room falls quite and Azriel presses his lips against your belly once again. Then he looks back up at you. As you gaze into his eyes, you know that, with him by your side, you can face whatever is about to come. And you will have a future together.

When he sits back down on the couch, Azriel helps you bring your clothes back in place and leans in again.

"We can do this," he whispers against your lips. "We will do this. We will be a family. The kind of family our little boy deserves."

His words are so lovely, so wonderful, they make your heart warm from the inside out, and yet you pull back with a giggle, and tears glistening in your eyes. "Our little boy? How do you know it will be a boy?"

Azriel smiles, both his hands now cradling your face. He looks at you like you truly are the most beautiful female in the entire world, his eyes full of love and hope. "I have a feeling."

He leans his forehead against yours, stroking your skin gently.

"And yes, yes, we will be a family. A wonderful one." Your eyes close, and you revel in the feel of his hands on your face, his closeness, his presence. You blow out a breath and shift a little, wanting to snuggle against him, but—

A scream parts your lips, and you can feel liquid. Everywhere. Wetting the couch beneath you and running down your legs. Your hands fold over your belly and you groan loudly. And the liquid is not the one of your water breaking…it is a deep red.

The last thing you hear before the blood rushing in your ears gets too loud is Azriel saying — or rather shouting, "I'll get Madja!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ tags for this series: @amysangel @bookishbroadwaybish @theofficialmadman tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22 @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @callmeblaire

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel headcanons #azriel acotar #azriel x you #acotar #acosf

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daycourtofficial · 3 months ago

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I got cursed like Eve got bitten - part XVIII

Pairing: Azriel x Rhysand's sister!reader | WC: 4.6k | Warnings: depictions of violence, broken bones, vulgar language

Summary: reports of a rare powered fae popping up in Illyria send Azriel and Rhysand on a journey through the past, unraveling a truth they thought long buried

Previous part | Masterlist

The flight back to your village was long and cold. Cassian kept you cradled in his arms, pretending not to hear you cry.

You appreciated it.

The flight was silent between you two as you tried to navigate the memories of the past few weeks with the new knowledge you had, trying to decipher where they liked you for you versus when they liked who you were.

It was all a mess. You wanted answers, but you also left the three people with the majority of them. You rubbed your eyes before looking up at Cassian, his stubbled jawline very well suited for his ruggedly handsome face.

“Did you know?”

Your voice cracked unintentionally, and you cringed at the sound but didn’t apologize.

“We all knew.”

You put your face in your hands, rubbing at the stinging in your eyes. Cassian’s large hand cradled your head, his thumb moving in a soothing motion. His wings flapped against the wind, causing him to speak louder.

“Feyre knew, but she didn’t know you before.”

You figured as much. Feyre was much younger than you - the rumors said she wasn’t even half a century old when she saved Prythian.

You felt so foolish with every passing minute.

“But you did?”

He nodded, the bun on the back of his head bobbing slightly with the motion. You were furious with the others, and you should have been furious with Cassian, but it was harder with him. You weren’t sure why - probably because you’ve only known him for three hours and he didn’t weave lies about spending time with you.

“When we met earlier, you made it sound like you knew me before.”

The breath he let out with his laugh looked like smoke as it trailed behind the two of you. “Yeah, I knew you then.”

“What was I like?”

“A nightmare.”

You laughed, his response not the one you expected. There was something about him that felt so familiar. He was warm and inviting, but something scratched at your mind like you knew him.

“Az and Rhys have both said you’re just like you were then.”

Your surprise must have shown across your face as Cassian smiled. “Am I really?”

“Are you still hustling unsuspecting males?” Your silence was confirmation enough for the General, shaking his head at your past self’s antics.

“I don’t know much about current you, but I didn’t have any siblings of my own before Rhys and Az. I always wanted a little sister. Someone to defend, someone to be close to.” The cold did little to stop the heat that was radiating off of him. “I regretted all of that because of you. You were so annoying, I was certain you lived to make my life worse.”

He laughed, a joy spreading through his chest that put a small dent in the anger you felt. “Once you were so mad at me, you cut out tiny holes in the tips of all of my socks so over the course of a few weeks the holes grew and all of my socks were unusable.”

You tipped your head back, laughing at the absurdity. “Did Azriel find me annoying?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, you were always nice to him. We hardly saw you when you were a kid - we were both worked to the bone. I think I saw you more than Azriel did, though. I think he only met you three times before you were forty.”

He continued, a softer look on his face, his voice growing quiet like he was sharing a secret. “Rhys’s dad had him in his employ. Azriel hardly talks about that time in his life - Rhys and I were lucky to see him once a year on Solstice. Otherwise we only saw him once a decade.”

He blew out a breath, expelling his frustrations, letting his voice rise again. “Once, you had to be nine or ten, you begged me to go flying with you because you weren’t allowed to fly on your own. I had just gotten in and was only going to be there for twelve hours, but after your pleading, I went with you and told you we’d only fly for five minutes.” You watched his eyes form a sort of haze from the memories he was playing. “Well, at the four and a half minute mark, you grabbed my foot, unlaced my boot, pulled it off, and said, “if you want it back you’ll have to catch me!”

You both laughed, imagining a fully grown leader of the Illyrian army being bested by a small child. “It took me an hour to catch up to you. I wanted to throttle you. I was so mad. I was so exhausted. I really considered killing you.”

Your laughing died down, the air growing quiet around the two of you. “You had worn yourself out flying so you asked me to fly you back.”

The two of you were coasting now, the snow covered lands below looking so small beneath you both. “You’ve been a thorn in my side for centuries.”

“I’m sure I found you annoying, too.”

He huffed, the air warming your face for a moment. “As if. I’m a delight.”

“Is that why you were hidden from me this whole time? Because you’re so delightful?”

The words slipped out. You had meant them in jest, but it had been nagging at you as to why Cassian was hidden from you. Did he think you should know? Had he done something to you before you died? His smile fell, a seriousness overcoming his face you hadn’t seen before. “Do you really want to get into this?”

You nodded. You had to know everything before getting back to Illyria. You wanted to know all of it so you could decide how to move forward. To move on you had to look back.

“When we thought you had died, it was awful. I mean… we weren’t the same for a long time. Hardly saw Azriel. I had gotten so used to seeing him again during your mateship, I forgot what it was like to have him be gone so much. Whenever I did see Rhys, he would be buried in papers and trade agreements and whatever thing he could lose himself in.”

The air around you both grew serious, Cassian’s easygoing smile setting into a more stoic frown. “Azriel and Rhys could hardly stand each other for a long time.”

You could feel the pain swirling in Cassian’s chest: grief, sadness, anger. It all swirled inside of him, threatening to consume him whole.

“Losing your sister was hard on us, just like losing your mom. But with you it felt… different. There were four of us for a long time, and then it became three of us.” You watched as your village got closer, still angry, nowhere near a conclusion.

“I know you’re mad, but nobody has ever seen anything like this before.” He landed, his feet hitting the ground harsher than Azriel had. The memory sent a pang through your chest as Cassian lowered you to the ground.

“Just.. here.” He searched his pant pockets before procuring a slip of parchment and a pencil. You looked up at him, confused. “It’s enchanted. We all have it in case we need help or need to let Rhys know something immediately. If you need one of us, or want to talk to anyone, just write it on the paper with that pencil, and once you finish the message, it’ll disappear to Rhys.”

You nodded, and the massive Illyrian before you looked almost like a sad puppy, his big hazel eyes giving away all of the emotions laying in his chest.

“I know you must hate us, but we weren’t.. We didn’t know what was blocking your memories. Still don’t, I guess.” He rubbed the back of his head, causing the bun to come loose and shoulder length wavy hair to come tumbling out. “We were worried if you knew everything at once it would be rough. We wanted to make sure it was you at first, but as time went on, it got harder to tell you.”

“But I should have known.”

He sighed again, looking into your eyes, not wavering contact. “You never should have been in this situation in the first place.”

You turned to look at your tavern, the darkness inside feeling like an endless pit, so different from the darkness of the shadows that swirled around Azriel. Your stomach dropped thinking of him.

He was your mate.

The two of you were destined to be together by some entity higher than either of you.

“Do you think-” you stopped, trying to figure out how to ask what you want. “Do you think Azriel would still want me as his mate?” Cassian’s eyebrows shot up, and you quickly began trying to explain yourself. “I’m not- I’m mad, I’m angry. But I don’t want to come to terms with this and find out he doesn’t want me.”

“He will.”

You inspected Cassian’s face, looking for any sign of half-truth or falsehoods. Finding none, you asked what you really wanted to know.

“What if I never got my memories back?”

Cassian shrugged. There was an air of nonchalance about him that both felt calming and annoying. You definitely understood why Cassian said you loved tormenting him.

“You’ll make new memories.”

You turned, not offering a goodbye. You knew he would watch as you entered the tavern, the snow crunching beneath your heels, and when you shut the door behind you, you heard the beat of his wings taking off from the ground, pushing him into the skies.

You walked into the tavern, a swarm of emotions in your chest. For every answer you got, it seemed you made three new questions. Now you knew who you were - a name to the face you’ve been seeing in the mirror for centuries. Somehow when you entered this village over a century ago it was the only thing you knew. Something came back to you, a flicker of a moment.

Hurt to breathe. Vomiting water. Females soothing your back. Your back screaming in pain at their touch.

You kept repeating your name over and over, like a prayer.

You always thought your name was given to you by one of the females, someone giving you the first name they thought of - the name of a relative, perhaps.

But you named yourself.

You sighed, pulling a chair off of a table before setting it on the ground. In your absence, someone had come in and stolen some of your wine, but they left several bottles for you to pick up and bring to the table you were sitting at.

You had so many thoughts running through you, you weren’t sure where to start. Do you start with the betrayal you felt at finally making friends only to realize they only liked you because they knew you before? The mate thing? Where to go from here?

Or do you fixate on what happened to you - assumingly you lost your wings the night you were thought to have died.

You took a swig from a bottle, the alcohol giving you something to enjoy as you decluttered your mind.

Did it have something to do with the water? In your memory, you were spitting up water. Had you been drowned?

Your thoughts whirled and swirled, so deeply interwoven they were practically nonsensical. The flight here was long enough to dull your anger into confusion, needing time to just sort your thoughts out away from them. You sighed, getting up and grabbing parchment and a quill, about to start trying to piece together the things you knew when the door opened.

Shit. Forgot to lock it behind me.

“We’re closed,” you yelled, not even looking up, starting to scratch down some of the things you knew. You started with “Rhysand’s sister” in big letters before making a bulleted list including ‘Azriel’s mate’ below it. After a few minutes of scrawling, you looked up, completely having forgotten that someone came in.

The male before you caught you off guard, his long blonde hair radiant in the darkness.

“I hope you had a fine evening, Princess.”

Keir’s voice made your insides want to melt from disgust. You didn’t want to be under his scrutiny, his gaze lingering on your face making you feel ill. You weren’t sure why he was here, but his presence made you so uneasy. Just hours ago this male turned your world upside down, and now he wishes to speak to you?

You went with a more cordial approach. “Hello. Your court is beautiful.”

“No it isn’t.”

His honesty nearly gave you whiplash, his voice laced with disgust and annoyance. His presence made you so uneasy, filling you with dread as he stepped closer to you, his scent of snow and fresh soil filling your lungs.

“You have now seen how awful and terrible the place that Rhysand keeps us in is. We are kept in a pen, as if nothing more than cattle.” You shook your head, not knowing enough about the Court of Nightmares to argue. “Your father sat on that throne that your brother does now, having done nothing to help my people.”

You moved from behind the table, your movements slow and deliberate. If you sidestepped around him, you might be able to get to the door behind him.

“I have found your family to be… ill-fitting for the throne.”

You nodded, pretending to agree so maybe he’d let you by, not letting your eyes stray from his.

“Millenia of terrible ruling all because the magic finds your spoiled brother to be a better fit than I.”

You turned, rushing for the door, knowing if you yelled loud enough Cassian might be able to hear you. Something wrapped around your hair, yanking you back from the door. You screamed as it ripped out your hair, your body colliding with Keir’s front.

“Not so fast, bitch.”

You clawed at his arms, your nails shredding his skin as your scalp burned from the hold he had on your hair. You were gasping, struggling to get out of his hold, but he was unrelenting. Your feet slid on the floor as you tried to gain stable footing, slowing down your clawing to get your feet planted on the floor. You pulled your head slightly forward, rearing your head back as hard as possible into Keir’s face. You heard a snapping sound, but couldn’t let yourself turn to look.

You ran for the bar, picking up the paper Cassian had handed you, hand searching through the darkness for the pen he had given you.

Keir’s hand grabbed the back of your head, pushing it down onto the counter, blood gushing from your nose all over the parchment. Your face was throbbing, your hand flying to cover your nose immediately. Keir took the moment to grab your free arm, wrapping his hand around your wrist, pinning it behind your back. He unsheathed a blade, the sound ringing in your ears as you struggled beneath him, kicking your feet out wildly to disrupt his stance.

“I never should have trusted those half-wit Spring heirs to complete a job. They couldn’t even kill a privileged brat like you.”

He brought the blade around, holding it close to your head.

“You got lucky once - those fools couldn’t complete the job. They let you loose somehow.” You could feel him shake his head, annoyance flaring in his chest. “You could give them all the answers they needed, provide maps, intel, anything they wanted but they’d be too dumb to strike.”

You couldn’t stop staring into the blade, your violet eyes looking back at you.

“No matter. I am more than capable of finishing a kill.”

You looked at the same blade, your eyes full of fear as you saw the blood dripping from the metal.

Your throat was raw from when the blade had slashed through your wings, slicing through the bone in shoddy work. You could barely hold yourself upright - you kept falling forward, the weight of your wings not balancing you.

You felt so dizzy, your back screaming in pain at the open wounds trying to stitch themselves back together.

“Stay put,” the brown haired male had growled at you before stalking off, but not before he pushed you into the grass, your new stumps shrieking in pain at the contact with the ground. Your limbs screamed in agony, desperate for some aid, only able to flip yourself to relieve the pain from your back. Your face was in the dirt, inhaling the loose soil as you tried to gather enough strength to take in where you were. It was so hard to see through the tears lining your eyes, but you were able to make out the still lifeforms of your sister and mother, the bandits currently cutting off parts of their bodies. Bile rose in your throat as you vomited into the grass, your head resting in it as you tried to think.

You looked to the right, hearing the roar of the river in your ears, drowning out the raucous laughter of your attackers. The water was close, your limbs aching as you dug your fingers into the soil, pulling yourself closer to the edge.

You had one shot of freedom. Either they killed you or the river did.

You’d take the river.

You rolled your body over the edge, the fall not taking long before you hit the water, the cold seeping into your bones. You went under the water momentarily, no energy to try to get yourself above water.

You were at the mercy of the river.

You had hoped the rush of the water was enough to keep them from knowing where you went.

That was the last thought you had before the blood loss caught up to you, the adrenaline leaving your system as you fell into the throes of unconsciousness.

You took a deep breath as if you were just emerging from that river again.

That male was in Velaris. The one who told you to stay put. He was who you had seen that day out in town with Azriel. He was one of Keir’s guards, he had to be.

“You.”

It was all you could get out, your mind was whirring with the new memories coming to the forefront of your mind. Flying with Rhysand, pushing Cassian into the Sidra one Solstice, teaching your baby sister how to dance.

Your mother. Your beautiful mother and baby sister.

Azriel.

You felt that gold bond come back to life in your chest, the tiny remnants of thread having restitched itself back to life over the past century.

You had died in that river, if only for a moment, the bond dying with you.

Except for one tiny thread that you’ve been nurturing for the past century and a half.

Azriel.

You gave the bond a sharp tug, pulling hard on the bond, tugging and tugging the never ending rope trying to get it back to you, as if you could physically drag Azriel to you. You were struggling beneath the weight of Keir, putting all of your weight into dragging Azriel here.

Tears sprung to your eyes at the tug you felt back.

You pushed your right foot out, swiping his knee, causing him to crumple just enough for you to move out from beneath him, out of his grasp.

Keir lunged toward you, the dagger in his hand nearly swiping your stomach. You reached to the side, grabbing bottles of liquor and wine, blindly throwing them at the male.

“You bitch.” He spat at you as your second bottle made contact, shattering at his feet and causing him to trip.

“You little bitch, I am going to end this. I’m going to kill you and then I’m going to gut that false prophet that sits on the throne.”

He lunged, his dagger nicking you in the arm. You hissed at the contact, scrambling away from the bar once you ran out of bottles. You threw chairs at him, all of which he just waved away with his hands. You shoved a table toward him, trying to pin him against the bar as you turned and ran to the door. He pulled the rug out beneath you, your head slamming into the floor, a harsh crunch coming from you as your jaw slammed into your skull, causing you to see stars.

Your hand reached up to assess the blood from your nose making it difficult to assess if your mouth was bleeding. Keir stepped onto your back, pressing all of his weight in to keep you in place.

“Now, killing you will be an honor. I will enjoy thinking back on this moment when I sit on my throne.”

You heard the dagger slicing through the air, your hands scrambling beneath you to move you up. Your nails clawed at the rug, desperate for any way to get up. Suddenly you felt Keir’s weight disappear from your back, and you turned fast enough to see a black shadowy mass pinning Keir beneath it.

“That’s my mate.”

Azriel picked up Keir’s head before slamming it into the stone floor, his blood splattering everywhere. Your head was spinning, trying to keep upright from the blood loss and how fast your thoughts were moving. Blips of a life flashed behind your eyes, centuries of life trying to crowd your brain.

You laid still, evening out your breathing. Azriel would take care of it. He would take care of you.

Your throat closed up a bit thinking about him.

Your mate. He was your mate. That golden thread weaved its way through the tapestry of your lives, tying the two of you together.

He was here.

If Azriel died, you weren’t sure how you’d go on.

You watched him, his wings spread out wide in a display of dominance, his shadows wrapped around Keir holding him down.

How did he carry on without you? Did he know that you were still alive, a tiny thread of the bond humming in his chest, just enough to tell him to keep going?

You were woozy, opting to lay on the rug to try to keep the room from spinning so much when you felt Azriel sitting near your head, gently lifting your own head to place in his lap.

“How did you get here so quickly?” Your words had a slight slur to them, trying very hard to get them out. You didn’t even have the wherewithal to ask what happened to Keir.

“I traveled through my shadows.”

“What?”

Your memories were still hazy, not everything coming back at once. You had the big things: being Azriel’s mate, Rhysand’s sister, the biggest pain in Cassian’s ass.

“Why didn’t you tell me you can do that?”

He shrugged, “you never asked.”

You tipped your head back laughing, “what a delightfully strange mate I have.”

His eyes practically glowed with little hearts, his voice soft as he asked, “will you say it again?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, hands wrapping around his leathers to balance yourself as you sat up and leaned in close, your breaths mingling as you whispered, “my mate.”

He crashed his lips into yours, uncaring of the blood on your face as he cradled your cheeks in his hands. It hurt your jaw, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Your lips moved in sync, and you pushed your body into him, crawling further into his lap.You weren’t sure where the tears started and the blood ended, but the kiss was full of a century of waiting and grieving.

He laughed into your mouth and you felt the cool kiss of his shadows roaming around you in excited patterns.

A cough should have startled the two of you, but neither of you paid it any mind until it became louder. Azriel removed a hand from your face, assumingly to flip his middle finger at the intrusion, but you heard a scoff and knew instantly who it was. You pulled away from Azriel, a trail of spit following you as you turned to look at your brother, standing in the doorway, trying to look annoyed.

“I had hoped you would forget this part of your mateship.”

You laughed as Azriel gripped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

“Nesta gave Cassian head at the dinner table and you’re scolding me for making out with my mate after 150 years?”

You giggled as a shadow bonked Rhys in the head, his eyes rolling. You scrambled, trying to remove yourself from Azriel’s grip, but he simply held on longer.

“Az.”

“Okay, fine. You get five minutes.”

You ungracefully stood up, running towards Rhys, jumping into his arms as he spun you around. He made a soft oof as your weight collided with him, but he spun the two of you until he slid in the blood on the floor, the two of you falling to the floor.

You were a mess of giggles as you landed next to Azriel, your mate pulling you back into his arms.

“That wasn’t five minutes.”

“Injury makes the clock run out.”

Azriel laid his chin on the top of your head, your back to his chest, as you watched Rhysand sit up.

“Less than thrilled to know Keir had some hand in all of this. And that my clothes are now covered in your blood.” He looked down, disdain on his face at his black suit being ruined. “But I am thrilled that with Keir’s death, I can appoint someone new to run the Court of Nightmares.”

You rolled your eyes. “I just came back to life and you already want tosend me back there.”

Rhys gave a pointed look. “Not you. You’d destroy the place in a week.”

Your eyes changed quickly from amusement to annoyance directed at your brother. “I have a bone to pick with you.”

“You have your memories back for all of five minutes, nearly murdered, and you want to scold me?”

You rolled your eyes, “of course I do. Now I can speak freely because I know you’re my dumb brother. Illyria sucks!”

You punched his arm, causing him to wince at the contact. “Illyria’s awful! The males are garbage, the females do everything, make it better!” Your last words were accented with hitting him on the head.

“But they-”

“You’re in charge! Do something. Or get Feyre to. She seems to be the brain between the two of you.”

Azriel’s hand softly gripped your jaw, turning you to face towards him. “How about you and I spend some time to ourselves while Rhys fixes Illyria?”

You heard Rhys’s grumbling as he stood and walked out of the tavern, making his displeasure known, but it didn’t matter to you. You were wrapped in the arms of your mate, thanking the Mother for that river.

“Come on, Az, at least dip your feet in the river. It’s shallow here.”

Az rolled his eyes, but removed his shoes and socks, rolling up his trouser legs before walking across the river bed to meet you. The water was cold over his feet, a soft gasp from him as he made his way to you.

“I will never understand your obsession with rivers. You can’t feel them, at least I can’t.”

You smiled, “I just like them. They keep going. They get you where you need to be.”

“Maybe if you’re in a canoe, perhaps. But how will you get back to where you came from?”

You shrugged, “you don’t. There’s no way back. Rivers keep going, and we keep going. We’ll just figure out where to go.”

Author’s note: the end 😭😭 I hope you guys liked it 🫶🏻 I really enjoyed this series and I hope you guys did too!! Thank you to everyone who commented frequently, you guys give me life to keep posting mwah mwah 😘

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl

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#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar writing #azriel x y/n #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger x you #azriel shadowsinger

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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 2 months ago

Text

In Love and War (6)

Author's Note: This came out angstyyyyyyyyyy, I'm sorry idk what happened. It's gotta get worse before it gets better, I guess.

Content Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Azriel using Truth-Teller, Mentions of Abuse/Death

Chapter 5/ Masterlist

-------------------------------

I can’t breathe. The walls of the tent close in, the dark leather pressing in closer and closer. If the ground were to open up and swallow me right now, I wouldn’t even have the presence of mind to scream. The fall would be a welcome reprieve from the roaring of my heart in my own ears.

What does he mean our fathers killed each other?

It’s wrong. He’s wrong! He’s lying. He has to be lying!

I roll over so I can face him, so close on this small mat that our noses brush. His violet eyes glow in the darkness of the tent. “What do you mean?” The panic that edges my voice makes me sound shrill, even in my own ears.

I don’t want him to answer, but I desperately need him to tell me everything all at once. The wine threatens to come back up in a rush as his hand skims up my side to cup my cheek, “Tamlin didn’t tell you?”

How dare him touch me while we have this conversation; what is so broken and wrong inside of me that I let him? I know that I am shaking in his grip and when he starts rubbing calming circles into my cheek with his thumb I lean into that touch like it might give me one last life line to cling to.

“He said you killed my father.”

He stills, wings fluttering; I feel it pass through him like its own little draft, skittering across his wings. A dark mist follows, seeping from his skin.

I know we’re not supposed to be talking about this, but the words are already out, whether from the wine or by the sheer desperation I feel crawling beneath my skin. I need to know! I need to know that everything I had believed was true. That all that I was doing this for was not based on a lie.

He brushes his nose over mine, lips ghosting over my forehead. “When I see what they have done to you, I wish I had killed them both.”

My stomach twists. No. No. This can’t be happening!

“But no, it was my father, in retribution for what they had done.”

But I saw him holding the sword! I saw him leave the tent! I never saw his father’s body and Tamlin had always said he arrived too late to save any of them, that all he could do was fend Rhys off to keep him from slaughtering what was left of us.

The confusion must be evident on my face, because he asks, “You really don’t know, do you?”

It’s more than a little patronizing but I don’t even have the energy to be angry about it, because my whole life is a lie! I’ve spent decades hating him. I just offered up my body and possibly my future to destroy him for nothing? For something his father, who’s long dead, did?

“Maybe we should talk about this in the morning,” he suggests and it’s definitely because I’m crying now and not because he’s trying to avoid it.

My throat feels like it;s closing. “No!” And it’s then that I feel the faintest prick of fangs growing behind my lips. “Please just tell me.”

His thumb soothes over my cheek again, like he can feel the sudden shift in my being. I don’t know where that rush of power comes from. Maybe it is some sort of effect of being so close to him while he repairs the wards.

“Rhys!” It’s always Azriel that interrupts us somehow, the shadowy male hurtling into the tent with that wicked looking dagger in hand. “We’ve got movement in the hills.”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! Now? Of all the Cauldron damned times for Amarantha to show herself, it has to be right now?!

Rhysand is on his feet in an instant, reaching for my discarded chest piece and ushering me into it, our conversation forgotten. “How many?”

I wish I could say I possess his ability to compartmentalize tasks, but despite the worst possible danger knocking on our unguarded and unwarded doors, all I can think about is how desperately we need to finish this conversation.

“Five, a scout and four chargers. I’ve got Nox and Avos on their trail, but I don’t see any marks yet.” Azriel continues, oblivious to my inner turmoil.

Rhysand slings my quiver and bow over my shoulders again, checking all the straps to ensure they’re in place. He’d never taken his own armor off, only the belt for his sword, he uses a tendril of shadowy darkness to strap it into place while he finishes with me. “Stay with her.”

Azriel eyes me like I’m a pile of shit he accidentally stepped in, but I’m too busy trying to wipe my eyes on my sleeves to care. “You might need me out there,” he protests.

“Might,” Rhysand counters, stalking out of the tent in search of his horse. “But I definitely need you here more.” He grabs the reins on his horse, the mount still saddled, just in case we’d needed to leave in a hurry. Dinner threatens to come back up as I watch him slide into his cloak. I’ve spent my life hating that triple star pattern that will sit over his eyes, cursing his existence, wishing him every pain and misery imaginable for ruining my life and it wasn’t even his fault?

The ground is unsteady beneath my feet, I feel myself stumble and sway and I can’t tell if it’s the wine or the reality of the situation that makes my legs feel like jelly.

I want to go home! I want this to be a bad dream.

For a moment, I think he might simply toss the cowl over his head and mount up, leaving me to sit here in the misery of our half finished conversation, but he comes back a moment later, hand sliding into my hair as he tilts my head back and kisses me swiftly.

He should taste as bitter as the wine we’d shared. I should feel nothing but misery when he slips his tongue behind my teeth, but when he has me like this, nothing else matters. There doesn’t have to be anything between us. I do not feel like some broken, wretched thing.

“Don’t leave Azriel’s side,” he says as he pulls away. “We’ll finish our conversation when I return, I promise.” Then he mounts up, calling for half of the men as he goes. The thundering sound of the horses hooves as they race down into the grassy hills beneath us makes it feel like we’re standing in the center of an earthquake.

There’s enough moonlight to watch them go, their mounts and flowing capes in the wind making them appear like wraiths racing towards the enemy.

With half of the men gone, and two scouting, that leaves Azriel and four other men to guard camp. None of them look too happy about it, least of all Azriel, who keeps watching me out of the corner of his eye like he thinks I might disappear at a moment’s notice. I remain next to him, anxiously shifting my weight from foot to foot, hoping the chill on the wind might wake my dull senses up.

Shadows drift off Azriel’s shoulders, but unlike Rhysand’s that always stay curled around his body, Azriel’s drift off like inky tendrils, testing the wind around him. Some slither along the ground like snakes, searching through patches of grass for an unwanted scent, others drift away, testing the wind for him. One remains perched over his ear, and I hear the faint sound of whispering like the shadows are reporting what they find.

We can no longer see the others, and I spin slowly around in a circle, taking stock of my surroundings. We’re a little higher than the base of the mountain, perched on a cleft in the rock for a better vantage point. The ward remains behind us, I think, without the trail of Rhysand’s magic, I still can’t see or feel this one. To the left and right, the rocky base of the mountain is dotted with ancient trees, some thicker than a house, but the coming winter has stolen their leaves, no vantage point for archers to be had there without being sitting ducks. Beneath us, the rolling hills of grass stretch far out of sight. If Amarantha brought an army behind those first five riders, she’s hidden it well. Still, the thought makes a chill run up my spine and I keep a hand around the hilt of my dagger, just in case.

Azriel does nothing to quell my nerves, just stands there, still as a statue, listening to his shadows, eyes glued to the horizon. I can’t help but wonder if his shadows show him things as much as they tell him. Can he see Rhysand right now?

My stomach twists at the thought. I can’t see him. I can’t hear if he’s ok. There’s nothing in my arsenal to tell me that he’s coming back. And Cauldron boil me, I want him to come back. If he dies without finishing our conversation, I might never learn what happened. Whether it’s the truth or not is yet to be seen, but Tamlin’s account and his account are different, and I will be damned if I don’t get some answers from someone.

The hand not holding my dagger reaches up to rub at the scar above my ear, hidden under my hair. Tam and I had been fighting that day, he’d been on edge about something and when I’d pushed too hard he’d shoved me right into the corner of a table. I’d been in the healer’s tent getting stitches; all these years I’d thought it was the Mother looking out for me, that little accident might have just saved my life. But looking at it now, I can’t help but wonder if it kept me from seeing the truth.

I shift my weight again and Azriel’s gaze flicks back to me once more, irritated, like I’m somehow distracting him.

“Sorry,” I mutter, locking my knees.

I can stand still, it’s fine. I force myself to focus on my breathing, but in the silence there’s one nagging thought that eats at me: Do I really believe Rhysand is telling the truth? I take him to bed one time, accept a couple gifts from him, and what? Believe everything he says as truth? Are claims of a mating bond really enough to make me believe he’d be open and honest with me? A mating bond certainly hadn’t saved my mother.

I close my eyes at the thought of her, chest aching. Did I believe Rhysand was right about that too? That my father had used her powers to try and breed powerful sons, not because he’d loved her? I’d certainly never seen my parents be affectionate towards each other, not even in the way Rhysand was with me. They’d never held hands, never ridden out together. He’d kept her clothed and fed, sure, and entertained her obsession with fairytales when it suited him. My mother told me, on one of her days of clarity, that he’d carved her rocking chair for her when he’d found out she was pregnant with Tam. But I never saw him be warm with her. I’m not even sure I ever saw them kiss, even on the cheek. But a lack of affection in public didn’t mean he cared so little about her he let her, supposed, powers drive her insane, did it?

“A scout’s coming back,” Azriel says, breaking me out of my thoughts.

My eyes snap open as the rider crests the hillside and comes into view. Illyrian mounts really are beautiful, all sleek muscle and rippling midnight black manes. Together they make a lot of noise, but alone, they’re pretty damn quiet until their hooves hit rock.

Azriel motions me to follow him as he goes to the edge of the cleft in the rocks and waits as the scout approaches. “Well?”

“Not Amarantha,” the scout says and I let out a breath of relief.

“Who the fuck would come out here then?” Someone behind me challenges.

“Spring,” the scout says and all the blood drains from my face.

Azriel glances at me, but there’s pity in his hazel gaze this time.

I swallow the lump in my throat. Not now, I’m not ready to see them yet!

“What do they want?” I’m having a hard time processing that Tam would waste resources looking for me, especially when we’ve barely had horses to spare to move camp, let alone ride all the way out here.

“Proof you’re alive,” the scout says, holding out his hand.

It’s Azriel that smacks his hand away. “She only rides with me or Rhys.”

The mount shifts beneath the scout, his hood falling even lower down his face. Something feels off about it and I glance at Azriel for confirmation I’m not alone. He nods at me as he steps closer, hand on the small of my back as he leads me to where his own mount chews on a dying patch of grass.

“Be ready,” he says in my ear.

The scout fidgets in his seat like he’s not used to riding in one and it’s that more than anything that has Azriel’s shadows flying off his shoulders to grab the rider by the wrist and yank him out of the saddle. He slams into the ground with a scream, the sound of bones crunching against rock so loud I wince as Azriel hoists me up into his saddle.

I grab the reins to keep the horse steady, trying desperately to remember where Rhysand had held his hands when I rode with him.

Azriel stalks over to the male, wings flaring as he knocks the back of the hood back with the tip of his dagger. Even in the moonlight, I know what swatch of dark hair and golden eyes. One of Tamlin’s Wolves, Andras. Of course he wouldn’t know how to ride, we’d survived a lot of skirmishes over the years because Tam had used his shapeshifting powers to change the men into beasts to fight.

Azriel crouches in front of him as Andras grips his clearly broken shoulder. “Let’s try this again, shall we?”

Andras’ gaze flicks to me first. Thankfully, Azriel’s horse is a lot more patient than the others and my own nervous energy hasn’t caused it to run off. If anything, I think the animal cares less about my presence than its usual rider, because it goes back to eating.

“Your whore of a warlord-” that’s as far as Andras gets before Azriel slams the hilt of his dagger into the other male’s throat.

“Start like that again and I’ll make sure you never use that shoulder,” Azriel threatens with so much venom, I shiver.

Andras coughs, good hand reaching for his throat and Azriel slams the blade clean through his forearm, pinning him in place.

I look away as Andras screams. He is not my friend, I can do nothing. I have always done nothing. The males have their fights and their quarrels and I have always stood on the sidelines waiting for the violence to pass like a good girl.

“Ok! Ok!” Andras rasps. “I had orders to get into the camp and get Y/N, that’s it!”

But wasn’t being tired of standing on the sidelines that prompted me to stay here in the first place? Wasn’t I trying to make things better for my people? How was sitting here helping them?

“What about the others?” Azriel questions.

“I don’t know! Lucien was supposed to handle that.” Andras replies through gritted teeth.

Do I even want to help them? If Rhysand was telling the truth, whose side am I even on? My head hurts from the questions, my stomach still churning end over end. I don’t know what to do.

“Where’s Tamlin?” Azriel asks as he rips the dagger out.

Andras screams, the sound echoing off the rocks. “There’s only five of us! Tamlin never left camp.”

Of course he would send Lucien and not risk coming out here himself. That would put him face to face with Rhysand and he’d lose. And looking at it now, I realize that he knows it. He’s always known it. I rub a hand over the scar on my hand. Did he know about the bond too? Had that been why he was always so sure that I knew Rhysand was the enemy?

Azriel raises the dagger to make another cut and Andras screams, “I swear I’m telling the truth!”

“Azriel,” my voice is steadier than I feel and all eyes suddenly turn to me. I need to get answers. I need to do something. “Take me out there please.”

“No.”

I tighten my grip on the reins. I’ll go out there myself if I have to. “If it’s Lucien, then it’s not a fight they’re having. Let me diffuse this.” I’m not sure I mean those words; I’m not sure I have the power to do anything but watch horror after horror unfold around me, but I know that I have to try. I have to attempt to put my life back together. I have to find some bit of order or I’ll go insane. Besides, this is Lucien we’re talking about! Surely he could see reason, right?

Andras is looking at me like I’ve grown a second head.

“Tie him up,” Azriel says to one of the others as he stands and wipes his blade on a cloth that hangs from his belt. “I’m not done with him.”

“But I don’t know anything!” Andras protests as two men haul him to his feet, wrenching his broken shoulder in the process. Blood drips from his forearm, down his fingers. Regardless of the confusion I feel swirling around inside me, he’s still a part of my people. Lucien is still family. If I can keep any more bloodshed from happening between our two people I will.

“I can work this out. Not everything has to be a bloodbath.”

Azriel swings himself into the saddle behind me and steals the reins. “If I so much as hear an arrow being fired, we’re turning back around.” He snarls.

“Fine,” I concede, because at least it meant I tried.

“Rhys is gonna kill me for this.”

----

I’m not convinced Azriel’s horse isn’t a wraith. It’s almost completely silent, save for the softest hint of breathing imaginable. When it breathes, little wisps of shadows escape out its nose. I wish I had time to ask him about it, but there’s none, not as we race over the hills, fast as the wind.

No arrows rise up to meet us, so at least I’ve been, so far, correct about Lucien not leading an ambush. Their scout must have taken down one of Rhysand’s and stolen his mount and cloak to look presentable. At least, I tell myself it was just that and not that Lucien ordered a man killed to try and get to me. Lucien, who would sneak me snacks and who secretly taught me how to fish; Lucien who used to braid my hair for me while we sat on the creek bed, making jokes. Lucien who had always been a spot of sunlight in my world, who looked after me like a brother, and promised to scare away any suitors who made me uncomfortable. Lucien was a good male; the best of us, even, the thought that he might be capable of such violence makes me nauseous. I have had too many life changing questions hurled my way tonight, I cannot bear another one, especially not about him.

We crest a particularly large hill and finally get a glimpse of the Illyrian riders. They’re not fighting. In fact, they’re just standing there, in formation behind Rhysand’s horse. The warlord himself stands in front of it, shrouded in that heavy cloak, facing off against Lucien and his three dismounted riders. They’re all armed, but no one is actively fighting each other, I take that as a good sign.

Though Lucien doesn’t look particularly pleased to see me riding with Azriel, nothing but unbridled horror crossing his scarred face as we approach.

When we get to the bottom of the hill, I jump off the horse, much to Azriel’s dismay.

Lucien takes a step towards me, but growling, Rhysand steps in front of him. “Touch her and you’re dead, Vanserra.”

The men move to let me pass through and I focus all my energy on breathing evenly as I walk towards them. Does Lucien know? Did he hide this from me too? Or was he just as blind as I was?

“Y/N, are you all right?” Lucien asks, his metal eye whirring as he looks me over.

My chest feels like it’s gonna rip right down the middle and spill my heart right out onto the floor. I don’t know who to believe. I don’t know who I want to believe. This is Lucien we’re talking about, he would never willingly hurt me. He comforted me when my entire world fell apart, he helped Tam and I bury them. I want so desperately for all these onlookers to leave, so it’s just the three of us and the truth, but the way they all stand there, armed and ready tells me that’s not happening. There hasn’t already been bloodshed here, because Lucien was waiting for Andras to give him some sort of signal that it wasn’t necessary. Because he was expecting to be able to just kidnap me.

Why do all these males constantly treat me like I’m just an object to be snatched up on their whims?

Rhysand’s hooded head is angled in my direction, watching my approach through the stars in his cowl. I don’t like that I can’t see his eyes. He doesn’t look like the Rhysand who’d just been holding me. He looks like the male I remember from my nightmares.

And Lucien looks like someone I don’t recognize at all.

How am I supposed to make sense out of any of this? Seeing them doesn’t make it easier.

The Illyrians shift behind me, horses snuffing in agitation, kicking up loose strands of grass. I feel their unease as easily as I can see it in the males behind Lucien. Maybe this isn’t the time for answers, maybe all I can do right now is keep them from killing each other. Regardless of who’s right here, I don’t want to see either males hurt.

“I’m fine,” I lie as I come to a stop at Rhysand’s side. His gloved fingers brush mine like he might take my hand, but he doesn’t.

Lucien stares back and forth between us. “I wouldn’t call being kidnapped fine.”

Rhys growls again, the sound skittering over my spine, “But you’d call letting her starve to death on a solo hunt fine?”

Lucien’s mouth pulls back in a grimace. “Tam made a mistake, he admits it-”

“He admits it?” His wings shake behind him, darkness drifting in waves from beneath them until it shrouds him more than the cloak. There’s so much of it Lucien retreats a step. “How brave of him to admit he fucked up and yet he still let it go on this long before someone came looking.”

Lucien keeps his gaze on me. “It won’t happen again. We’ve talked about it. Trust me, next time-”

“There is no next time,” Rhysand snarls. “She’s not going back with you!”

Lucien’s hand falls to his sword hilt, but his gaze remains on me. “Let her come home. Let this be settled and done. Tamlin sent money-”

A whip made of starlight appears in Rhysand’s hand, knocking the bag of coins Lucien pulls off his belt from his hand and scattering it across the grass. All of the men with Lucien draw their swords, even as the redhead tightly grips his own. Rhysand can easily kill him here and he will if Lucien keeps talking. I need to diffuse this, I need them all to leave each other alone. I’m not done here, and even if Lucien won’t understand it, I can’t bear to see him get hurt.

“He’s my mate,” I say and the words taste like a betrayal.

Lucien’s face twists in a mixture of horror and disgust.

“No one is keeping me here against my will.” Well, mostly. It’s not like I’ve put that to the test, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“That can’t be true,” it comes out like a whisper, as if he doesn’t want to believe it. I suppose, if our places were switched, I wouldn’t want to either. “You did something to her.”

Rhysand huffs, “I didn’t and I wouldn’t.”

“Like you didn’t slaughter thousands for Amarantha?” Lucien snarls.

Rhysand freezes, still as death beside me.

Azriel, silent in the grass, has come up behind me, his presence a steadying energy amidst the chaos I feel swirling around us. What does he mean he killed for Amarantha? Isn’t he trying to kill her?

“That’s enough,” Azriel hisses. “The lady told you she doesn’t want to go back with you. Respect that and go.”

Lucien doesn’t move. “He didn’t tell you that, did he, Y/N?”

“Leave!” Azriel snarls.

“I’m sure he didn’t tell you how he whored himself out to her either. Why do you think the Illyrians have so much land?”

Azriel steps around me, shadows swirling, dagger in hand, but it’s Rhysand, who’s now almost wholly surrounded by a dark mist, that puts out a hand to stop him. “Everything I did, I did for my people,” he says in a voice that’s so low I almost can’t hear it over the wind. “Everything Tamlin is doing now is for himself.”

“How noble,” Lucien snarls. “If your intentions are so pure, let her go.”

Rhysand turns to look at me, pushing the cowl off his head so I can see his face. The moonlight doesn’t hide the shadows under his eyes, or the weight I see crushing down on his shoulders. It’s impossible to miss the way his wings droop behind him. My chest aches at the sight of him, something clawing in desperation beneath my skin begging me to find a way to take that burden from him.

“Do you want to go back with him?” He asks.

I don’t know if what he’s said tonight is true or a lie, but I know here and now that if I said yes he’d let me walk away. No strings attached, if I took Lucien’s hand and got on that horse, he wouldn’t fight me.

I don’t know what I want any more. I don’t know who I am anymore. Everything I have built my life on feels like it's crumbling beneath my feet. And everyone is just standing there watching it happen.

No one has ever offered me a choice like this before. My whole life I have been told where to go and who to be and given one taste of freedom I had still followed exactly what was expected of me, hoping that it would finally make me feel at peace. But I haven’t felt a moment of peace in all of it, except when I was in Rhysand’s arms. It’s impossible that he of all people could make me feel like that. It shouldn’t be this way.

And Lucien, who I always considered another brother, who shared food at my table and always made me feel like I wasn’t a waste of space, was now someone I didn’t recognize. There is no sign of Rhysand’s missing rider among them. I don’t know if he’s dead or not, probably, judging by the way Lucien keeps looking at Rhys like he’s an animal.

It’s a startling sight, not because I would have looked at him like that myself a couple days ago, but because that’s how Tam always looked at me. Like I was some thing that was so inherently wrong; some creature that needed to be tamed and bridled. Those pointed tips of the fangs I felt try to make an appearance earlier have come back, poking into my lower lip. I feel something shifting beneath my skin, a beast awakening from some deep slumber. My hands open and close reflexively at my side. The stirring feeling is strongest in my chest, right where I sometimes feel that weird pressure that’s somehow tied to Rhys.

“No, I don’t want to go back with him,” the words are steadier than I feel, my chin raised. I do not cower from them, or the fact that I mean them. Even though Lucien looks like I’ve punched him in the gut. I can’t go back. Not until I have the truth. Not until I can make sense of all this mess I feel in my head and in my heart.

“Tamlin won’t take me back anyway,” I pull the gaps in the arms of my sweater down, so he can see the stars inked across my skin. “Nor do I feel like being tossed out again.”

“Y/N…” Lucien shakes his head, auburn hair flying around his tan face. “It was a misunderstanding.”

Rhysand won’t stop staring at me. I think he’s waiting for me to change my mind.

“Please leave, Lucien,” I say, only looking at Rhys. I’m a terrible person, because there is so much unbridled hope in his eyes, like he’s been holding his breath this whole time, waiting for me to take my chance and run; I’d been playing games this whole time, he hadn’t.

He hadn’t been playing games.

I’d used him, taken what I needed, and had planned to throw him out when I was done. Even if he had killed me father, I was still… I was still just like my own father. The realization nearly knocks me off my feet. What have I done?

“This isn’t the end of this,” Lucien hisses as he backs up, never leaving himself exposed, even as he reaches for his mount. The horse is old, it’s mane patchy and unkept, I’m not sure how it carried Lucien here, let alone how he expected it to carry the both of us. “Tamlin will consider this a breach of your agreement.”

“We agreed not to kill each other,” Rhysand returns. “If he comes at me now, then he’s the one that broke that agreement, not me.”

Lucien swings into the saddle with ease, mount shifting slightly beneath him. “What of my scout?”

“What of mine?” Azriel returns.

“Food for the vultures,” Lucien snarls and my heart sinks even further. What if I’ve been wrong about everybody, not just Rhys?

“Then so is yours,” Azriel returns.

Lucien leaves with the remainder of his men, no further fight for Andras life to be had. Rhysand watches them go, wings still drooped behind them like they are impossibly heavy. I should try and comfort him, as that thing in my chest demands, but I can’t. My limbs refuse to move, feet rooted in the grass. What have I done? Where did I go wrong in all of this? I was just trying to do what I thought was right, but I’m not sure I know what that looks like anymore.

“Are you all right?” Rhysand asks once they’re gone. On instinct, he’s throwing his cloak around my shoulders again, cocooning me in that blissful pocket of warmth that smells like him. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve any of his kindness.

“I don’t know,” the words slip out of me. I can’t think past the roaring in my ears. What have I done?

His hand falls to my back, gently leading me back to his horse.

“For the record-” Azriel starts, but Rhysand cuts him off, “I know, Az. Thank you for staying with her.”

I think, even as we mount back up to return to camp, we would have all been better off tonight if this had been a fight with Amarantha.

------------------------------

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cressidagrey · 4 months ago

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Something good and right and real - Chapter 9

Summary:

Azriel had spent centuries believing that he of all people didn't deserve a mate. And if anything, the last three years had just galvinised that particular belief. And then he meets her.

The first time Oriana met Azriel, she thought that he reminded her of a skittish cat. Shy and a little bit broken. Good for him that she absolutely excelled in fixing the things around her.

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing, Discussion of Murder, Kinda Lucien Bashing?

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

“It’s nice. The music is good. I think you wouldn’t hate it,” Oriana ended her presentation of why he should accompany her to dance.

Quite frankly, Azriel had been willing to agree with anything Oriana had been saying, because she was sitting on his lap after they had shared lunch. He had managed to take a break from his duties for once and lunch with Oriana was definitely worth the detour he had needed to make it happen.

And he was more than willing to agree when Oriana told him that she liked going there with friends to dance, as it was quick stomping dances that reminded her of the mountain.

“Let’s go tonight,” he said impulsively. Even if he ended up hating it, he would have seen Oriana do something that she loved. He could sit through a few hours of that.

And really, sitting through a few hours with live music was a far cry from the less pleasant aspects of his job. So really…

“Yeah?” Oriana made sure, but a smile was growing on her face and he nodded.

“Yeah,” he agreed, and the kiss she bestowed on him at that was worth so much more than sitting through 4 hours of music that may be horrible.

He caught her face in his hands when she pulled back, kissing her again…and then another time.

He only pulled back suddenly, when he felt a razor-sharp talon at the edge of his mind.

He wanted to curse.

It must have shown on his face because Oriana cradled his head in her hands.

“Are you alright?” she asked him, eyebrows furrowing, and he nodded.

“My Brother,” he gave out with a sigh, as Rhys scraped at his mind edge, obviously unwilling to wait.

“Your brother,” Oriana repeated flatly.

“He’s a daemati,” Azriel explained. A daemati and a pain in his ass.

He slipped open his mental shields just enough so that Rhys could slip into them.

His shadows hadn’t told him that anything was amiss, so really, what could this be about?

What happened, Rhys? he asked.

Elain and Lucien are coming over from Day.

Right. And that mattered to him how exactly?

It was nice that Feyre and Nesta could see their sister. But Azriel himself…well, he doubted that either Lucien or Elain would be happy to see him.

Good for them? Azriel responded bemused.

He hadn’t heard that it was a diplomatic mission of any kind between Day and Night, Helion hadn’t been the one dispatching his son and heir.

So really, what did it matter?

We’ll have dinner at the River House this evening.

Now, he had his answer.

I have plans, Azriel responded quickly.

He did. And he could really imagine a better use of his time than sit through the awkwardness than that dinner promised to be.

Everything so that he didn’t need to sit through that .

Being cooped up alone in your house isn’t a plan, Rhys responded pointedly. Azriel wanted to bristle.

He wasn’t the only one. His shadows actually did.

Besides, we are talking about the future High Lord and High Lady of Day, so I am sure you can make space in your busy schedule for them, Rhys’ mental voice dripped with sarcasm but Azriel just stayed silent.

Rhys sighed.

Get over yourself, Azriel, Rhys said quietly.

Right.

That’s all he was ever supposed to do, right?

He smashed down against the bitterness that welled up into him at that because quite frankly, it didn’t fucking matter anymore.

It didn’t.

I actually do have plans, Rhysand. I can come for dinner, but I am not staying for dessert, he gave back clipped instead.

Fine.

Rhys left. Azriel snapped his mental walls down behind him with far more force than necessary.

He focused back on Oriana, who still sat on his lap, watching him carefully.

“I am expected for dinner,” he said quietly.

“Want to go out dancing another time?”

Maybe he shouldn’t have expected something else, because Oriana had never asked him to tell her anything more than he had been willing to offer up by himself, but he still was. He still waited for the moment when she would be upset or angry with him because he couldn’t force himself to drag her into the abyss that was his work. Couldn’t force himself to answer a question.

That was one thing. Oriana was another thing.

It was unfair, he realised that. She told him about her family. About growing up and how Enya braided her hair and Kiran had used to let her run wild in his forge, about how Samson had let her hold his sword when she had just been a child of no more than 5, about how Titania was strict and seemed arrogant but had still sobbed over her husband losing a leg, and weeks later about the prothetic that Oriana had enchanted…about Cyrus and her playing together, the brother with whom she shared a father and the reality of being a child of two worlds and somehow not belonging into either.

He couldn’t even open his mouth and tell her about Cassian or Rhys.

He wanted to sometimes. Sometimes he thought about it.

About what Cassian would say if he came to his brother the next day and admitted the whole thing.

Cassian would be happy for him. He knew that.

At first at least.

But he didn’t know how Rhys would react and he wasn’t willing to stake Oriana’s happiness or safety on it.

Not yet.

“No,” he said quietly. “I’ll be done by nine? Is that early enough?”

“That’s the time, I am just starting to drink at,” Oriana said with a grin. “I’ll be waiting. I am the one in the red dress.”

He couldn't help but smile at that.

“So who is coming for dinner? If you can tell me?” she asked curiously. “Your brother?”

“Both brothers,” he answered. “Their mates. Some old friends. Lucien and Elain.”

He could give her the names. It didn’t matter.

She pulled back, looking at him curiously. “Lucien Vanserra? Or whatever he calls himself these days?” she asked, her voice curious, but there was something else there.

“You know him?” he asked carefully. How? Why?

“Yeah, I know him,” Oriana said with a laugh. “He’s my cousin , Azriel.”

His brain felt like it was freezing in place.

What.

“His mother and my father were siblings,” Oriana explained. “You knew my father was from the Autumn Court. When my parents married it was quite the scandal. Lucien is a few decades older than me, but we are cousins. Haven’t talked to him in…over a century, I think though.”

Azriel had no clue how to even react to that particular bit of knowledge.

This was entirely unexpected. And he wasn’t sure that he liked it.

“So. I am thinking I am gonna make rabbit stew next week,” Oriana changed the topic, without asking another question or saying anything else. “Are you gonna hunt me one and bring it to me like some barbarian warlord returning home with the carcass slung over your shoulder like a prized kill or should I just go buy one already dead?”

He dropped his head to her shoulder and started shaking with laughter.

Azriel left Oriana with the promise to be the one responsible for the demise of a poor bunny later that week and then trudged his way towards the River House for dinner.

He was really not looking forward to that.

Not because he had some kind of feud with Lucien or Elain at that matter, but because seeing Elain was a constant fucking reminder of that solstice night.

And that still pissed him off to no end, even when it was 2 years and a mating bond for him ago.

It was still the night where Rhys had pulled rank with him about something purely personal and expected him to just accept that, without even a discussion.

Something inside him, Azriel was quite sure, had fractured that night and he wasn’t certain if he was ever going to piece it back together again like it was before.

If he even wanted it to

The only thing he was sure of was that his private life was going to be kept far out of Rhys’ grasp.

Oriana was his and no one else’s and nobody was going to take her from him.

And now he sounded like a possessive asshole.

Weakly, he wondered if that was the mating bond at play, pulling out every territorial instinct he had…and he had quite a few of them. He had never really had anything that was his and his alone after all.

Still, every thought of Oriana was banned from his mind as soon as he arrived, instead replaced with once again contemplating table linens.

Why not.

If Rhys picked up a stray thought, he would probably think that Azriel had gone completely mad, but hey, that was fine too.

Still, Elain looked as lovely as always, and Azriel managed to snag a seat at a corner of the table, next to Cassian on the other side, and Morrigan at the head.

It could be worse, he imagined.

Like this, he was far, far away from Rhys…and from Lucien as well.

The one thing that did quip his curiosity was the incessant whirring of Lucien’s mechanical eye though.

“Is everything alright with your eye?” Feyre was the one who asked the question that Azriel also had. He listened with half an ear, not that interested in the answer.

“No, it has decided to act like this,” Lucien gave back sarcastically. “Nuan already took it apart, she has no clue what is wrong with it. She has reached out to some old friends of hers, including the person who figured out the spell in the first place. But until then, I am stuck with this.”

He means Mistress, his shadows piped up suddenly and Azriel’s eyebrows rose with that.

You are sure?

Mistress figured out a way to make artificial limbs feel real when her brother-in-law lost his leg in a mining explosion. She spent around a decade concentrating on that, his shadows hissed.

He knew about the prosthetic leg. He hadn’t known that she had spent a decade working on that.

Mistress talks to us while she is working, his shadows answered the unspoken question. Mistress is very smart.

Yeah, Azriel agreed with that assessment.

But if Nuan, the Master Tinkerer from Dawn Court had already taken the eye apart and not figured out anything that was wrong with it…well. Then it clearly wasn’t a mechanical problem. It was a problem with the enchantment that made it work.

“You need an enchanter,” he said evenly. The conversation quieted down at that.

“I do not,” Lucien sniped back.

“Yes, you do,” Azriel disagreed. “If it was a mechanical problem, Nuan would have figured it out. So it’s a problem with the enchantment. Who did it the first time?”

“Nuan did,” Lucien answered, crossing his arms.

“She’s an alchemist, not an enchantress. You need one of those to fix…whatever the problem is,” he said with a wave of his hand.

“What do you even know about it?” Lucien asked with a snort.

“I know that it is a completely different skill set,” Azriel gave back tightly. And then, he said something he shouldn't have because his temper got the better of him. “I also know that you are related to one.”

Lucien’s knife hit the plate with a clang. “How do you even know that?” he demanded.

“I am the spymaster of the Night Court,” Azriel gave back like that answered every single question Lucien could possibly pose.

And maybe it did.

It was nothing that he could not also have found out through very different channels.

“So what, you care about gossip from 3 centuries ago?” Lucien responded sharply. “Do you have nothing better to do?”

“Luce…” Elain said softly, but Azirel ignored her.

“If it’s useful, yes .”

“How could it possibly be useful to you? Also, he’s dead. Has been dead, for over a century,” Lucien told him harshly.

Oh.

Well, that made it better. Lucien didn’t even think about Oriana. He thought that Azriel had been talking about her father .

“That didn’t show up in your research, did it?” Lucien asked with a harsh smile.

Oh, he was willing to let Lucien have that round.

Can you ask Oriana if she would be willing to take a look at Lucien’s eye? She probably already got a letter about it from the Head Tinkerer from Dawn.

The answer came minutes later, not by a sentence hissed by his shadows, but by the letter they dropped next to his plate.

He opened the note. It smelled like peppermint.

Yes, of course. Just give him the note enclosed. Tomorrow morning. And just tell him that we share a common acquaintance, if you don’t want him to know that we know each other, Sweetling.

Also, If you have read this note, drop it in a glass, please.

He did just that.

It went up in flames, just seconds later.

“By the cauldron, you are seeing Eris!” Cassian blurted out and Azriel felt like his brain froze for the second time that day.

“Cassian!” Nesta snapped, for some reason managing to sound long-suffering, "We talked about this."

“The letter just went up in flames! That’s how the Autumn Court sends correspondence!” Cassian reasoned. “You are seeing Eris!”

“And because of that, you are now thinking that Azriel has a love affair with Lucien’s half-brother?” Feyre asked, sounding like…she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.

Well, neither could Azriel.

“Yes!” Cassian exclaimed.

“No,” Azriel deadpanned.

Over his dead body. Not after what happened with Mor. Never.

“But…” Cassian started to protest.

“Cassian, I have absolutely no idea what makes you think that I am in some kind of romantic relationship with Eris Vanserra but I’ll gladly swear to you on my own life, that that is not happening in a million years,” he said drily. “And Eris was not the one writing me.”

“Who was writing to you then?” Rhys questioned pointedly. “Must be somebody from autumn.”

“I know somebody that knows somebody,” he gave back evenly, as he handed the second not for Cassian to pass to Lucien. “An enchantress is willing to meet you tomorrow. Bright and Early.”

Lucien reached out for the note with some trepidation.

“If I wanted you dead, the plan would be a lot less convoluted. Just for your information,” Azriel said drily.

Lucien glared at him.

“Where did you meet her?” he demanded.

“I know somebody that knows somebody,” Azriel repeated. “That’s my job. And that reminds me, I have to go.”

Far away from Cassian and his conspiracy theories, that much was certain.

He still had no idea how Cassian had even come up with this. He didn’t know if he even wanted to know.

“So soon?” Feyre asked surprised.

“I have plans.”

“What kind of plans?” She wondered.

“The kind of plans that I am not willing to change.”

Quite frankly, all he wanted was to curl up on Oriana’s couch, underneath the ugliest blanket he had ever seen, but he should have known that it was not gonna be quite that easy.

So he went to the pleasure hall she had named him and let his shadows lead him right to the female in the bright red dress.

He would have found her even without knowing the colour of the dress, because even now, in a dress with nothing that proclaimed her a goldsmith by trade…there was traces of it, everywhere. From the points of her shoes that were decorated with a gold tip, to the low open back of her dress that was held in place at her neck with a myriad of chains.

From the front…it was deceptively simple. From the back…not so much.

She suited the colour. Not as much as Blue did in his opinion though.

“Sorry, I am late,” he said softly as he slid to her side at the bar and she grinned brightly at him, just as the bartender, pushed four glasses in her direction and she immediately handed two off to him.

“You aren’t, Sweetling,” she assured him. “Ready to meet my friends?”

He just nodded.

The fluttering pearlescent wings that resembled a butterfly, were the first thing he saw.

He immediately placed that to belong to Palote Fairy, a lesser Faeries, often found in the summer court.

Far from home, that much was certain.

She turned to him, a head covered in blue hair that matched her wings and she stared at him.

“By the cauldron, you are real!” she explained as Oriana slid into the seat beside her. A High Fae male was with her, blonde and blue-eyed, looking like he wanted to be everywhere but here.

“Did you think I was lying?” Oriana said with a snort

“No!” The female hurried to add. “I just didn’t…Hi! I am Hyacinth! That’s Evander!” she said quickly. The male fae, Evander, lifted his glass in greeting, obviously quieter than his companion.

“Nice to meet you. Oriana has told us literally nothing about you,” he said drily. “Which is good, because Hyacinth wouldn’t have believed her anyway.”

Hyacinth just glared at her companion.

“Hey! It’s just that she came out of it with nowhere! She disappears for a few weeks and then shows up with, Oh I met my mate! By the way, he’s Illyrian!” Hyacinth defended herself.

“Because Oriana has totally bothered to lie to you before. We all remember that one time…”

Or maybe the male wasn’t quite after all, because these two started squabbling in a way that was worse than Cassian and Nesta sometimes were prone to be doing.

“What happened that one time?” he wondered quietly to Oriana, who just snorted.

“Hyacinth and I didn’t know each other very well and she didn’t take me at all seriously when I told her that I could control fire. So I showed her. Right there in the middle of her flower shop. And she dumped water all over me…Did I mention that the flowers were still in said pot of water? I got to pick out tulips out of my hair for ten minutes afterwards.”

The mental picture that painted, made him snort, even as Oriana leaned into his side.

Nobody threw water at Oriana that evening, though she did seem to seemingly know every person who attended and dragged him down onto the floor as soon as there was a dance that wasn’t the very quick stomping dances that she seemed to enjoy the most.

Still, for once he was very thankful that centuries of fighting training meant that he was very quick on his feet and managed to figure out the steps behind it quickly.

But even if he didn’t…he wouldn’t have cared, because Oriana glowed with happiness throughout that night. It seemingly surrounded her, an effervescent beauty that he couldn’t name. He could just stare at it in wonder.

“Thank you for coming,” she said as they spilt out into the night air as the evening ended, her arm slipping through his, her hair curling against her neck, where she had sweat from her dancing.

“Of course.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“So Dinner didn’t go that well, did it?” She asked Azriel as they ambled their way to her apartment. The walk wasn’t longer than maybe 5 minutes, and it was a night in the Rainbow…of course, it was still filled with faes and fairies of all kinds mulling around.

And still, Azriel had showed up at The Moonlight Vault with a face like thunder. (Yes, the name sucked. It was still one of the best establishments Velairs had to offer as far as Oriana was concerned.)

“…How,” Azriel wondered and Oriana just shrugged, holding his arm a little bit tighter.

“You were looking ready to flee as soon as you entered,” she said drily. “You know, you could have just had your shadows tell me that you weren’t in the mood. That would have been totally fine, Azriel.”

She didn't want him to go through that kind of torture if he didn’t want to. It wasn’t…His day job already promised to be horrible enough.

“I wanted to be with you,” Azriel gave back quietly like that explained everything.

Her heart melted a little bit at that. She just grasped his arms a little bit tighter.

“I ordered the couch we picked by the way,” she said at that moment. Furnishing the Lake House was coming along…questionably.

They had managed to pick out a couch, thanks to her offering up multiple furniture catalogues for Azriel’s perusal and him having opinions about interior design that she never even thought he would have.

They had ended up going with a brown leather couch, big enough to fill some of the empty space in their house.

“Sounds great,” Azriel said softly.

“Any luck with your table linens?" she teased him as they finally reached her apartment and she unlocked the door.

“Not yet,” Azriel answered with a snort.

“Haven’t had any luck with chairs yet…especially none that look like they are comfortable for your wings,” she admitted. “Still working on that.”

“Just buy whatever you want. I’ll deal with it,” Azriel said, like that was completely reasonable as he followed behind her up the stairs.

Completely reasonable for him to be uncomfortable.

“It’s your home, you don’t need to deal with it. I already found you one chair that works with your wings, I’ll find dining chairs that work as well,” she pointed out drily. “You maybe can’t expect the rest of the world to accommodate you, but you definitely can expect that at home.”

Especially as far as she was concerned. “What else?” she added, tapping a finger against her lips. “I am working on a warding net by the way.”

“A warding net ?” Azriel asked her, sounding confused as she shrugged off her coat.

“You can put it into stones,” she explained with a shrug. No need to shoulder the magic for it on their own. It was something she had made for the mountain. Granted the road to the final version had been, pardon the pun, stony.

“That works?” Azriel wondered.

“Of course it works, I made it,” Oriana said drily. She had trust in her abilities. More than she should probably have. Azriel stared at her for a moment.

“How many things do you make that you never bother telling anybody about?” he asked her curiously, shrugging off his own coat. She thought about it for a minute.

“A lot,” she admitted with a sigh. “If it‘s easy enough to replicate and scale, and selling it would give me a profit…then I go to the mountains, to our guild and file a kind of patent on it. So nobody can replicate that without paying me for the right to use it,” she explained. “Like the teapots,” she pointed out as an example. “But the warding net? It’s going to take me at least a couple more weeks of working on it before it’s ready to be placed. It’s a question of want and need. Not many people would have the money to pay me enough to make the work worth my time,” she admitted. “It just takes too long to be financially sound. I just make it because the time is worth it to me for the security it provides.”

“It’s safe?” Azriel asked, his voice and eyes serious. Oriana met his gaze.

“As safe as I can make it. The safest ward I ever made.”

“Did you put an anti-winnowing ward into it?” he asked her, and she grinned at him.

“Who do you think I am? Of course. Shadow Walking will work though.”

She took a quick bath, and by the time she got to crawl into her bed, Azriel was already waiting for her, paging through the book that she had had on her bedside table. The Knight and the Dragon's Heart.

Quite frankly, she slept better curled up underneath his wing than she did anywhere else. Especially after she got a kiss goodnight and then got to sleep straight through until the next morning, when they had breakfast together with some pastries he had fetched from the bakery two buildings down.

He went to work and Oriana opened her shop, greeting Cilla, the second female that she had come in to help in the shop these days so that she could concentrate on her forge.

Penelope and her did a great job at manning the till so that Oriana could go back to creating and quite frankly, she quite enjoyed it.

Still, that day she lingered in the front room of her shop at least until she recognised a shock of auburn hair.

Lucien.

Time had been kind to him, though the brutal scars that ran down the left side of his face…that was another thing entirely.

She had never actually seen them, though she had heard what had happened to him. Gossip was strong, even in Velaris.

“Lucien,” she greeted him, adopting the persona of her mother’s daughter. Her shoulders went back, her voice found that perfect tone of polite and warm.

Normally she didn’t see the need for it. But he wasn’t alone.

With him was a beautiful female. Golden Brown hair that fell down her back in soft waves and was tied away from her face with a little ribbon, big doe eyes, and a lithe frame.

Delicate was a good description for her.

“Oriana,” he greeted her. “Last I heard you were no longer an enchantress,” he quipped as he came to stand before her.

“Well, family has privileges,” she said calmly. “And it is my work that is keeping that eye from exploding, so I figured, I should lend a hand, of course.”

Both polite, but pointed as well.

Making it very clear that she may be 2 centuries younger than him, but she was the best in her trade. And she said that with no arrogance.

A smile stretched over Lucien’s face at that.

“Of course,” he repeated. “My wife, Elain. My cousin, Oriana,” he introduced his wife who stared at Oriana wide-eyed for a moment. Oriana mentally checked that her eyes were black and not fucking creepy as Cyurs liked to say and smiled at her. Suddenly, Elain smiled prettily at Oriana, offering her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, her voice high and light. “I never met an enchantress before.”

“We are a rare breed,” she said drily as she took Elain’s soft hand surprised at the calloused she had. Not a delicate little flower after all, maybe?

One should never judge a book by its cover, she had learned that early.

“Let’s go into the forge. Then you can tell me what is wrong with your eye,” she invited Lucien and waved him and his wife through to the backroom. She had even tidied up a bit for him.

Elain stared around like it was the first time she had seen something like that and Oriana imagined it probably was.

“It looks like it does at the blacksmith’s,” Elain said suddenly.

“Oriana is half Tartera,” Lucien hurried to explain. “They are lesser faeries and life in the mountains surrounding Velaris. They are known for their jewellery making.”

One could break it down like that.

“Lucien and I are cousins through his mother and my father,” Oriana explained as Lucien carefully removed the golden eye. She held out a tissue for him to place it in because she would need to completely take it apart.

“The last time I met Oriana, she was still living in the mountain full time though,” Lucien said quietly. “The jewellery shop seems to be a new addition.”

“If you call new a hundred years ago, yes,” Oriana said with some amusement as she received the eye and carried it over to her workbench to take it apart.

She had even pulled out the tiny screwdrivers for this job.

“I left the mountains over a century ago,” she picked up the conversation.

“Why?” Elain wondered. “Didn’t you grow up there?” she seemed actually curious about it, a kind and gentle fae or at least willing to make every appearance of it.

“I did. But I feel out of love with my job,” Oriana answered honestly.

“How is Wynstan?” Lucien wondered. “Did he come with you?”

“He’s dead,” Oriana said drily. “Has been. For over a century. I am surprised that you haven’t heard that story,” she quipped. “It was quite the thing when it happened.”

Though since she had gotten rid of the necklace…the only thing she was still feeling when she thought about Wynstan was fury for what he had taken from her.

It clearly wasn’t what Lucien had expected though.

“My…condolences,” he hurried to say but she waved him off.”

“Oh don’t worry about it,” she said absentmindedly as she peered into the inner workings of his eye until she found the culprit.

“Ah, I found your problem,” Oriana said, as she poked at the runic array. “Some of the runes have eroded.”

“Can you fix it?” Lucien asked, his voice trembling slightly.

She looked up from her work.

“I used to be the Master Enchantress of my people, one of the foremost goldsmiths they have, and you ask me if I can fix an eroded rune?” she asked him, her voice bone dry. “Yes, Lucien, I can fix that. I can also make sure that it never happens again and even renew the runic array so it works better than before.”

“And you aren’t an enchantress any longer?” Lucien asked with a raised brow.

“I still have the training. I just tend to use it for personal projects. These days there are other titles I would much rather claim,” she answered drily, as she went back to her work.

A few minutes later, she polished the golden eye, before she offered it to Lucien.

“All done,” she said.

“How did you meet Azriel?” Elain piped up suddenly and Oriana went back to picking up her workbench. “He was the one who told you that…”

“Azriel didn’t tell me anything,” she corrected. “We have a common acquaintance. Azriel pulled a lot of strings and a lot of favours. My acquaintance asked me as a favour to him, just as he did it as a favour to Azriel.”

Lucien seemed less than pleased with the sudden change of conversation.

Or maybe less than pleased with the topic of conversation.

She wondered what that was about, but she didn’t want to outright ask.

“Azriel didn’t need to do that,” she pointed out, keeping her voice even. “I hope you are aware of that.”

Lucien ignored that pointed comment.

So there was definitely something.

“Are you one of his spies?” Elain asked, sounding somehow wide-eyed and naive and for a moment Oriana froze.

Spies.

Somehow that answered so many questions that she hadn’t even known she had had. Azriel's spies. He was a Shadowsinger. He was the spymaster of this whole damn court, wasn’t he?

“Do you really think that if I was, I would tell you?” she gave back, forcing out a high tinkling laugh that sounded only natural because she had spent decades honing it. “And the answer is a very resounding no. I am not subtle enough for that.”

“She’s not,” Lucien snorted. “People that annoy her are getting set on fire on the regular.”

She just shrugged, even at Elain’s horrified look.

She was not going to apologize for that. She had only ever done it to people that really deserved it.

Still, the list was quite amusing. It not only included the current High Lord when he had been a few hundred years younger but also her brother on more than one occasion and as a 5-year-old even her grandmother.

“Thank you,” Lucien said at that moment, and she looked at him, the gold eye moving smoothly. “It’s better than new.”

“Of course it is. Do you still not have any trust in my abilities?” Oriana quipped. “And I am not the one you need to thank.”

“What do I owe you?” Lucien asked but she shook her head.

“It’s taken care of.”

Still, as she watched, Lucien and Eleain leave, she couldn’t help but wonder, her mind running wild, as she thrummed her fingernails against her workbench.

“How did it go?” Azriel asked her that evening.

“I fixed the eye,” she answered honestly. “I met his wife.”

She watched Azriel as she said these words, watched how his fingers tightened near imperceptively around his cutlery.

“Lucien was the mate, wasn’t he?” she asked evenly. Lucien had been the mate of the female that Azriel fell in love with after he spent 500 years pining after a female that couldn’t be less interested in him.

That’s what he had told her. Right at the very beginning.

“Lucien is the mate. Elain is the one who got away.”

“Yes,” Azriel said, his voice hoarse. “Ask.”

“Ask what?” she asked him, needing Azriel to say it. Needing him to…

She wasn’t even sure why. He had been honest to her from the beginning. there was no reason for her to doubt him. And she felt bad that she even thought about it.

“Ask if I still love her,” Azriel said softly. “That’s what you are wondering about.”

“Do you?” Oriana said quietly. Did he?

She was his mate. But was she…

“No.” There was no doubt in Azriel’s tone. “I liked her. I have loved her. I was in love with her. I was infatuated with her. And I’ll always think that…how it was dealt with wasn’t right,” he struggled to form the words. “It wasn’t…Being ordered not to pursue her wasn’t right,” he repeated, the words low and she stared at him. Who had…Who had the power to order Azriel not to pursue a female? What…what even… "But it did work out."

“Elain is lovely. But she isn’t you…what I had with her was a spark, Oriana. You are a whole firestorm.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #my writing #A Court of Gold and Shadows #Something Good and and Right and Real

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azrielslittleslut · 1 month ago

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Your post about Az not learning how to talk emotionally wrecked me more than I thought it had because hours later I'm still thinking about it. And here's what I thought... if he was never even taught how to speak, then his father definitely didn't bother teaching him how to write. Right? So he probably had to learn the actual basics after his hands had already been burned, again thanks to Rhys's mama.

I think I might go have a little cry now 🫠🫠

That was the first thing I thought about this morning, so I had to make all of you suffer with me. Sorry, not sorry.

Anyways, I don't think we understand the depths of Az's trauma. My undergrad is in psychology, and studied a lot about childhood trauma and how it affects us. Hell, I don't even think SJM understands the depths of it, but I really hope she does her research if she does write about his healing journey. I don't want it to be pretty. I want it to be harsh and ugly and raw, because that's the reality of it. I don't want him to be healed in a 600 page book, because it will take Az years to heal from his past. I mean, I don't even know if it's possible to fully heal from something like that.

Az was locked up. No light. No fresh air. Nothing. Alone. Not able to train or fly. He probably didn't get food like he should have, or water. He probably didn't even have a bed or a way to clean himself. His hair was probably super long and knotted and shaggy, and now I'm picturing Rhys's mother giving him his first haircut. Yes, he absolutely struggled to write because of his hands. It probably took him years to learn how to hold a sword or dagger. He probably wasn't even able to hold a fork or spoon properly. That's one of the things that makes me so fucking angry about the bat boys. Yes, I love them, but I hate how SJM wrote about them beating Az to hell and back, even though he had already literally been tortured. Like??

I see so many fics sexualizing his trauma, and I personally don't find anything wrong with it. I read them, and some of them are very good and well-written. That is how some people deal with it, and that is perfectly okay. However, I want to see more fics of him dealing with his trauma in a way like "i don't even want to touch my mate, much less finger her. how can i sully her like that?" because I honestly think that's more like canon Azriel.

I have tried and epically failed, twice now, to write a story of Azriel's past. It's so dark, and it's frankly hard to write something like that. It's hard to get in the mind of someone who suffered like him, and I feel like he deserves more than that. I am going to try to write about his past during Azriel Appreciation week, and just the planning for that fic has me crying.

Okay, to end this rant: Azriel's trauma fills more of my brain than I care to admit. He deserves the world and happiness beyond anything our minds can comprehend.

I just hope SJM doesn't ruin his character in the next book.

#azriel #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel trauma #i love him so much #i love broken boys because im convinced i can fix them

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azsazz · 1 year ago

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hot take i think zuzu begs for a cat and even though azriel doesn’t like them he gets her one not knowing he’ll become the cats favorite person like every time he sits on the couch it will come and lay on him without fail

This has been sitting in my mind for a bit but I've just now had the time to write a little something.

"Did you forget we have children now or..." you trail off, staring down at your mate who's looking all too much like the tiny black cat settled on his chest, napping away.

Azriel peeks an eye open, glancing up at you where you stand before him with Malos on your hip. She's chewing on a cracker you've given her to keep her from crying. She'd missed her nap this afternoon and has been in a mood ever since.

"We have kids, you know," you continue, slightly sourly.

"I know," Azriel responds, and his voice is rough like he had been sleeping, and it sends tingles zipping up your spine. "I've got one of them right here."

Thankfully, he doesn't mean the kitten Zuzu had been begging him for for absolute ages. She seemed even more determined and willing to wait out her stern father, who really was a softie for his little girls and had been the one trying to convince you to allow him to get the tiny creature for your daughter.

Knox is tucked between Azriel's chest and the couch, napping away. You wish that was you right now, not wrangling the other five and trying to get them to play nice.

"Zuz has been asking about her cat," you tell him, grimacing as Malos shoves the half-eaten, wet cracker in your face.

"Elixir."

You sigh, "Zuzu has been asking about Elixir. She's upset that she doesn't like spending time with her. Says Elixir loves nothing more than you."

Azriel bites back a smile, running his hand gently across the black cat's fur. The tiny creature purrs in her sleep.

He didn't think he would like having a cat around at first, but after seeing how small it was and cradled it in his hands, it reminded him of all of the times he first held his children. He aches for the feeling of that again.

"I don't try and wrangle Elixir into frilly bows and sweaters Elain knits her," Azriel responds, ever so patiently.

"That's right, you just lie around and the cat comes to you," you shake your head. Clearly this conversation isn't going the way you want it to.

Jax crawls his way into the room, babbling nonsense since he's trying to learn how to speak. He grips the edge of the couch and heaves himself up to peek at the sleeping kitten lying on his father's chest.

"Happy," he grins, pointing to Elixir with a wet finger that had been in his mouth. Azriel smiles wide at his son and you melt a little at the way hazel eyes sparkle as he runs his fingers through Jax's hair.

"Good boy, Elixir is happy, isn't she?" It's said with a glance at you and you roll your eyes. With Knox and Jax in Azriel's care, it should be a bit easier to gather the rest of the children and keep them from bickering with each other as they play.

You plop Malos down on her father's lap and it jolts the kitten awake who mewls in fright. "Here, have another kid," you say, making it clear that you're not thrilled with how this conversation went. You make for the hall to play with your eldest, leaving Azriel to bask in the loving of the youngest and the new family pet, Elixir.

#azriel blurbs #daddy!azriel #azsazz zuzu

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lanitalay · 1 year ago

Text

Before I Say Goodnight

Chapter 10

a/n: Happy Monday!!!!! Word count: 4k

Warnings: none, crying as per usual

Other chapters

The last few days have been a blur. When you arrived at the Manor, your stomach was a bottomless pit. The possibility of returning home evaporated in a single second. The fight with Azriel is weighing heavy on your heart. That first night was spent looking at the sizzling hearth until the flames went out, the embers went cold and the sun came out. The second day was spent in bed, drifting between dreams of a life a world away and dreams of Azriel’s face as he watched you walk away. A box of your clothes was delivered by Cassian, you didn’t get out of bed to see him. The second night you managed about one hour of rest in between the fits of crying. You weren’t entirely sure why you were crying. It could have been because of the life that was taken from you, the enormous uncertainty that was your future or the fight with your closest friend here. The third day Jurian made you go with him to the nearby village to buy food for the house and do a check up on the recovery from the war with Hybern. He said you needed to get out of the house and that you looked and smelled like hell. That day you met Muriel, the local apothecary. Jurian brought you to her shop to find some herbs or a tonic or a salve or anything to get you to sleep. When Muriel saw the dark circles under your eyes, the greasiness of your hair and the bitten nails she quickly offered you tea. It was peppermint. It made you feel a little more alive, the liquid warming your cold hands and soothing your tattered heart. You breathed deep, savoring the fleeting moments of peace. “What’s wrong, darlin’?” She asked with a comforting twang that almost brought you to tears. Jurian put a hand on your back and said “she’s going through a difficult time and hasn’t slept in days. Do you have something that would help?” She nods “of course, I don’t have much in stock right now but I’ll give you enough for two nights, by then a new shipment would have arrived and I can dispatch more if you need” she searches for powders and dried leaves on her too full shelves and empties the containers into a small jar “dilute half of this mixture in warm water or milk thirty minutes before you want to fall asleep”. She hands you the jar “thank you” you say but it barely comes out as a whisper. “I can get something for your nails as well, help them get nice and healthy” you look at your hands, the nasty habit from childhood made a reappearance these past days. “I guess that could help” she quickly goes to another shelf and pulls out a tiny bottle “put this oil on all of your nails daily”. She tells Jurian to total and he gives her a few coins “I hope you feel better soon”.

That night you slept soundly. The following morning you got out of bed without having to be dragged out by one of the boys. You felt refreshed. The pit in your stomach still present but less daunting after a full night of sleep. When you walked into the kitchen Lucien’s eyes went wide “glad to see you up and cognizant” you rolled your eyes. “I slept well last night and actually feel like a person this morning” Jurian cuts Lucien off before he makes another remark “the tonic worked?” You nodded “like a charm”.

After breakfast you had the house to yourself. Lucien was never really home during the day and Jurian had a meeting of sorts with one of the villages’ top blacksmiths. He had mentioned something about getting a decent blade. And Vassa was in her bird form. So you lingered in the kitchen, cleaned the mess from breakfast and had another cup of tea. This morning you missed coffee an extra bit. You were thinking of how there must be coffee plants somewhere in this world but they just haven’t been harvested properly or have not arrived to Prythian when someone knocked on the front door. Startled, you place a hand on your now hammering heart and think of what to do. No one should be home so you could just ignore it and hope they go away. But maybe it was Azriel or Cassian or even Mor. You calmed your breathing a bit and walk from the kitchen to the door. “You’re back” his voice was warm and familiar, almost jovial, but not quite. “Hello Eris, Lucien isn’t home” he didn’t look taken aback by your dry tone. Azriel’s dislike for the male rubbed off on you. “That’s a shame, I’ll just have to wait” he steps into the house before you can protest. “Was he expecting you?” He sits down on one of the sofas “can’t I visit my baby brother without an interrogation?” You huff and cross your arms. “How’s your foot?” Your eyes widen a bit at the memory, surprised he remembered. You look down and flex your toes within your boot and reply “it’s fine now”. “Are you always this enchanting to be around?” He sounds annoyed, you roll your eyes “you are free to leave and return when Lucien is actually here” and walk towards the library. You hear footsteps and are relieved for half a second until you realize he’s following you. “You know how to read?” How am I even supposed to answer that? “I do,” he hums, “impressive for a human”. You look through the shelves, hoping to find something entertaining. “This is a good one” does he ever shut up? He holds up a thin book “it’s an adventure novel, the protagonist flies across the world on a dragon”. You grab it from him and scan the pages. Eyes narrow at him, annoyed that he was kind of helpful “I didn’t know heirs have enough free time to read fiction”. He answers matter of fact “in the centuries I’ve been alive I’ve managed to carve out time to read”. You forget that. These beings are so much older than you’ll ever be. “I guess” you reluctantly concede.

The rest of the day was spent reading the novel and ignoring Eris. He left shortly after Lucien arrived, their private conversation was brief and, by the looks of it, unremarkable . You wondered why he waited for hours just for that. In a way, it was good Eris had shown up. You never had any time to go into a spiral because by the time he left everybody was home again. “How was your day?” Vassa asked you sweetly. “It was alright, better than the last few” she grinned at that.

You used the last of the tonic and slept until the clattering of pots and pans woke you.

“I need to return to the village today” Jurian raises an eyebrow at you. “For the tonic” his features relax, remembering “that’s right, think you can go by yourself? I have to go to the ports today” you think for a moment “I guess, can I take one of the horses?” He nods “take Lucien’s”.

You take a deep breath. The only times you’d been by yourself in this world had never ended well. Just follow the path and you’ll be fine. You repeat the affirmation to yourself all the way to the village.

The apothecary shop was empty, as it had been the last time you’d been here. But Muriel was there and she smiled when you stepped in. “Hello” you greet “You’re lookin’ so much better darlin’” she was excited. You nod and offer her the best smile you can muster “the tonic worked wonders, do you have any more?” She put her hands at her hips and nods “I sure do, but it’ll take me a while to get everythin’ ready” she walks to the restocked shelves “the girl that usually helps me got married last week and I have about twenty orders I’m behind on”. Her nimble hands pick small leaves of oregano off the stem and drop them into a mortar and pestle. She grinds the leaves with a memorized rhythm, you stare and get lost in the perfectly rehearsed movements. You speak before you really think about what you’re about to say “I can help, if you’d like. I could use something to do during the day” and a marketable skill if you are to stay in this world. Muriel takes you in, and maybe it’s because of pity or necessity but she says “alright, you can make your own sleep powder, grab another mortar and pestle and grind a handful of these flowers” she points at the equipment and the ingredients simultaneously and you immediately get to work.

It’s almost dark when Muriel finally announces that it’s time to close the shop for the day. Your hands were sore from grinding flowers and herbs and salts. You smelled of the incense she kept burning. Your eyes felt heavy, it had been a very long day. But you felt lighter than you had in a month, maybe in a year. The scents of the shop were warm and soothing. Muriel reminded you of your grandmother, she had crinkles around her eyes and gray hairs sprinkled through her long brown curls. “Can I come back tomorrow?” You asked, hoping she’d say yes “well, of course. You were very helpful today” you stop yourself before you crush her in a hug, her kindness bringing back to life a part of yourself that had long been dormant and say “see you then”.

“Where have you been all day?” You smile at Lucien “I got a job, I’ll need your horse to get into town everyday” he looks even more confused now. “What are you talking about?” You hop off the saddle and skip towards him “I’m helping Muriel at the apothecary shop, look” and you pull out a jar with the sleep powder “I made this myself, she says I’m a natural”. Lucien can’t deny that it brings him joy seeing you excited about something. “I’ll need my horse some days, but I’m happy for you” he says and pats you on the shoulder.

“I can’t afford to pay you much more than a few coppers a week” Muriel says the next morning “it’s ok, I really just want to learn”. She nods and the day progresses like the last. Grinding, mixing, packaging and handing out orders. In the flow of routine and monotony you got lost. There, your sole focus was the tasks at hand and gleaning any information you could from Muriel. You didn’t think about your world, your family, your friends, Azriel… nothing that wasn’t in the shop mattered and you were glad.

A week.

Two weeks.

Three weeks passed in the same routine. It was peaceful. Breakfast with the boys, then you’d ride into town and work with Muriel until sunset, by the time you reached the Manor it was dinner time and you’d stuff your face and pass out until the next day. Then you’d do it over again. “Tomorrow the shop won't be opening, I’m visiting my sister” Muriel told you as you were cleaning the tools you’d used during the day “so take a break and rest, we’ll be back the day after”. You deflated a bit, the distraction of the routine was your lifeline to sanity “oh, alright, have a nice visit with your sister” she smiled “I will, I haven’t seen her in months. Her daughter had a baby and she’s been fussin’ over them so much I haven’t seen her since” she chuckles. Your chest tightens a bit, a reminder of what you didn’t have anymore.

The next morning was the same up until everyone left. The empty house felt extra big. You were washing clothes when you heard a knock. Sighing, you get up and open the door. “You should know by now that Lucien isn’t here during the day” you say as Eris stands in front of you. “Maybe I’m not here for Lucien” you step away to let him inside “then why are you here?” Eris walks in but remains standing “I come here when I need a break from my father” he inspects the sitting room “are you the servant?” You suppose no one has ever told him who you really are “I’m … Jurian’s friend” he puts his hands in his pockets “I see” you jump when another knock rattles the door “expecting company?” Eris asks “no” , you respond and open the door for the second time today. Your breath catches in your throat as you see a dark looming figure on the steps.

“Az?” He’s standing with his hands behind his back but his shadows engulf you as if saying hi to an old friend. You giggle a bit as they gently caress your face. “Y/n” he breathes, like he’s surprised to see you “you look,” he scans you “you look good” you nod “I feel good”. He sags a bit, you’re not sure why, but continues “I’m glad” you shift on your feet “want to come inside?” He shakes his head “I’m actually on my way to an assignment but I wanted to make sure you were fine, Lucien said you were. I just had to see for myself” you nod “I’m better” a pause. A breath “Az I’m sorry for calling you an ass” he smiles at that “I’m sorry for saying all that I said, it was your decision and I was overstepping” another pause “I want you to come to the Night Court for Solstice” he blurts. Your brows raise “oh, I’d love to. When is it?” His cheeks are a little pink, you suppose it’s from the cold “in a few weeks, Lucien is also going. You can winnow with him or I can fly you but I think winnowing is more comfortable in the dead of winter”. You smile lightly, “alright Az, I’ll see you then”. He returns the smile and steps away and lunges to the air.

“How do you know the Shadowsinger that intimately?” You press your back to the door, heart beating wildly and you’re sure your face is beet red. “You’re not the only one that comes to visit, Eris” he clutches his chest “and I thought what we had was special” and pouts. “It’s like you have a sixth sense for when I’m home alone. Got a little crush?” He scoffs, and you swear you can see his lips straining to lift. “It’s ok if you do, I’m incredibly charming. Not to mention beautiful”. “Humans are not my type” you shrug and wink at him before returning to your room and your chores.

Washing your skirts, shirts, sweaters and leggings was therapeutic in its own way. The rhythmic scrubbing against the board, the sound of water splashing and sloshing, the suds tickling your forearms and the floral scent of the detergent was enough to ease your mind and keep the ever present panic at bay. When you were done, you returned down stairs and hung the clothes outside. Winter was closer now, but you were hopeful that the first frost of the season would wait until after your clothes were dry. “Are you going to eat?” You jump and clutch at your chest, having forgotten that Eris was here. At his question your stomach grumbles. It must be past midday then. “I could eat”.

You split a loaf of bread and some soft cheese with Eris. He was not pleased by the rudimentary meal but ate, nonetheless. “Where are you from?” You choke a bit. Not knowing how to answer. “Uhm, I’m from the Southern Continent”. In the first books Jurian showed you there were maps of the world, and a southern continent twice as far as the Continent to the east seemed like a good place to lie about. From what you gathered, Prythian and the other lands North of it had very little knowledge of it, only some stories from explorers or merchants brave enough to face the tempestuous ocean that separated it. He looks surprised “and how did you end up here?” You want to groan, but instead say “oh you know… this and that. There was a boat and a storm and now I’m here” you look at the bread and cheese, making a little sandwich while Eris stares at you. You’re certain he doesn’t believe a word. But you don’t trust him enough to tell the truth, given your involvement with the Night Court and their tumultuous relations with Autumn. “Very convincing story, y/n” you still don’t look at him and are saved from further questioning when Lucien walks through the door.

The next few weeks fly by. The shop is organized and running smoothly now that you and Muriel have settled on an effective routine. Life with the exiles was as calm as it could be. The occasional discussion between Jurian and Vassa kept things interesting and on some nights you’d sit by the hearth and share stories of your very different lives.

The day before Solstice Lucien winnowed the two of you to Velaris. You had been nervous to see the Inner Circle, namely Rhysand, but not enough to stay away. You had never talked to Lucien about Elain, but you guess that part of the reason why he makes the trip back for the holiday is to see her. And also why both of you are tight lipped and visibly uncomfortable when Feyre opens the door to the River House.

“Lucien, y/n! I’m so happy you made it!” she exclaims while stepping aside to let you in. You were shaking now, the light coat that kept you more than warm in the Human Lands not nearly thick enough for the Night Court winter. Inside the house is toasty warm though and the smell of something sweet permeates the air. Feyre hugs Lucien and then he leaves, you assume that he’s going to look for Elain. “Thanks for having me,” you tell her, “of course, it has been too long since we’ve seen you” at that her eyes soften, remembering why you haven’t been around. “I’m sorry the portal didn’t work, I believe Gwyn is still working on figuring out what happened”. You shrug “it was difficult to accept at first but now I’m doing better” she brightens “Lucien said you had been working at the apothecary?” You smile and nod “yes, I’ve been learning a lot and getting my hands dirty. I could see myself staying there for a while” she wraps her arm around your shoulders and leads to the main sitting room “I’m glad, y/n. But remember you are always welcome here, Velaris needs apothecaries as well” and nudges you playfully. You laugh.

Everyone is here: Nesta, Cassian, Rhysand, Elain, Mor, Amren, Gwyn, Nyx and Azriel. Your heart stops when you see him. You say hello to everyone and make a mental note to thank Cassian and Nesta for the box of clothes before you leave again. He stands pin straight as he watches you approach. “Hi” you say, the corners or your mouth perking up as you finish the word. He smiles too “I’m happy you’re here”. You’re about to say something when Mor shouts “everybody better have wine!” After that the night is a blur.

The pounding in your head reminds you why you haven’t had wine since girls night. A cacophony of groans engulfs the room as banging noises come from the kitchen. You go to place your hands over your ears but something warm and heavy is draped across your middle. You turn your head and see that Lucien is spooning you. Oh god. You turn to look at the other sofa and see Nesta and Gwyn in the same cuddle. Mor is in a fetal position on the floor. What the hell happened. More banging echoes and you throw Lucien’s arm off you and cover your ears. He wakes up when his hand slaps his face and curses. You push yourself off the sofa and go into the kitchen. Nyx has made an instrument out of a pot and a metal spoon. He laughs when he sees you walk in. I must look like a goblin. “Look Nyxie, one of the sleepy heads is awake” you rub your eyes “his little concert is difficult to sleep through” Feyre picks him up and gives you an apologetic look. “Looks like you all kept the party going after we went to bed” you sit at the kitchen table and rest your head on your hands “I guess we did, but I don’t remember a thing”. One by one the others join you in your misery at the table. “Where are Azriel, Cassiand and Rhysand?” you ask as breakfast appears. Mor replies “annual snowball fight” like it’s common knowledge, but you are not that curious ask for clarification so you have breakfast and hope you don’t throw up.

You spend the next few hours sleeping and then getting ready for the actual Solstice celebrations. You had brought your purple long sleeved dress for the occasion, your nicest dress by far. By nightfall everyone was all together again and dressed to the nines. You couldn’t help but notice how good Azriel looked. His hair had grown in the weeks you hadn’t been here. His curls frame his face and give him a boyish look. He wore an all black outfit, the only color from his siphons. He looked at ease, his usual stiffness gone in the comfort of his family. You notice you are staring and look away. “He’s been looking at you all night too” Lucien whispers in your ear. You blush and pick at invisible lint on your dress “shut up”. The group starts exchanging gifts and you watch with amusement as everyone opens Mor’s presents gingerly. You had been warned about her handicap when it came to gift giving. Then the wine starts flowing again. You opt out tonight, wanting to avoid a major hangover, possibly death.

It’s a few hours after midnight when everyone has either gone to bed or passed out. You place blankets over the few that remained on the sofas and floor. Then move to the kitchen and look for cookies. “Smart of you to sit this one out” you jump a little when you hear Azriel’s voice. “I thought you’d be out until morning” he shrugged “I just needed a power nap, I’m as good as new”. You hummed, finding the cookie jar. “Here” you hand Azriel a cookie. You sit in silence for a bit until he says “I got you a present” and he takes a small box out of his jacket pocket. “Oh Az, you didn’t have to do that. I didn’t get anything for you” he shakes his head and pushes the box in front of you “open it”. You wipe your hands on a napkin and begin unwrapping it carefully. You frown, inside the box is your phone. You look at him quizzically, he smiles “turn it on”. You gasp when you press the button and the screen comes to life, a picture of your dog staring back at you. Your eyes well up. “How is this even possible?” He smiles “I don’t know exactly, I took it to the same tinkerer that made Lucien's mechanical eye and they took care of it”. You look from the screen towards him. Tears falling freely now. You set it down on the counter and walk over to him, wrapping your arms around him in the strongest hug you could muster. “Thank you so much, Az” his arms come to your waist and he hugs you back. You know he can feel your heart beating wildly in that moment, because you can feel his.

taglist: @luvmoo

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tadpolesonalgae · 5 months ago

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“You made more than a mistake, Az. Now we’re all hurting because you—”

i am so glad it's finally been said out loud. And that it was Mor who said it because immediately I understood how she was feeling about the entire situation, which made me feel better about her being an asshat at the end of the last chapter. It's strangely therapeutic. As soon as Mor tells Az to shut up though, I couldn't help but start crying a little bit because you really perfected how I thought Mor would've perceived reader going to Eris-

“She could have come to any of us. It’s more than we ever had, and yet she ignored it. Then tries to pretend it away? I’m not immune to that. If she can’t even be bothered to care about my pain why should I give a damn about hers?”

-this line in particular ruined me (not to be too personal n emotional lol), as someone who grew up in a not so great home i can really empathize with Mor here. It's not healthy behavior but I can say that there have been times where I've resented the people in my life who didn't accept help after i had been desperate for it for years. I'm more emotionally aware now and have unpacked those resentments (THANK GOD), but it was such a visceral response to reading that line because it mirrored unhealed me.

The next scene with madja was the perfect balance to mor and azriel's...argument? discussion? idk. You really guide us well through the world which is something I really admire in your writing, it flows very naturally and it always feels like a very natural progression of events. (its just something i've noticed i struggle with in my own wips lol).

compliments aside, it was also really sweet to see reader's peace in this chapter. Madja herself being a very peaceful motherly figure for reader who we know desperately needs that kind of care right now, her sisters are doing great right now but she needs someone who's not family to prove that they do care about her and it will not change over a few mistakes. Which is something that Cassian embodies very well later in the chapter too.

Bas.... sweet guy :( i hope reader gives him the truth. Imo, i think he deserves at least a bit of the truth when she is in a better place to give it (she fr could've said she was at a friend's in autumn. bas doesn't need to know WHO). But Bas held up his own boundaries very well with reader as well and I'm glad that we got a little of his feelings on the situation as well as reader acknowledging she hasn't been a great friend recently. (it's valid tho she's been goin THROUGH IT)

Tabbatha... you keep saying you don't know how to portray cassian but i personally think you do him such a great service ESPECIALLY after some instances of cass's behavior towards nesta's struggles in her own healing journey. I really feel like he actually cares about reader herself compared to rhys who cared about feyre and her only. He makes an effort to get her to relax, which is something acomaf cass would've done and is the version of him i miss the most. And him calling reader out for keeping things to herself? I personally think she needs to be called out and take accountability for her own role in the healing process. He was the perfect person to push her in this scene.

The dinner scene also really resonated with me and my own childhood. As a kid growing up we NEVER ate dinner together, so reader's apprehension to going to dinner is so real, and Mor sitting across from her?

oh myyyy goodness, ik this chapter just came out but im already rereading hehehe im so excited for the next one

-🤠

If I’m honest with you, I wanted Mor to tear into Az a little more than she did? For her to fairly obviously and kind of viciously defend reader but I felt it would be weird for her to go that far, considering Mor is supposed to be feeling very betrayed and hurt by reader? I did have fun with writing Mor telling Az to shut up though 🫣 I even nearly italicised it 🫢😳

‘The next scene with madja was the perfect balance to mor and azriel's...argument? discussion?’

Oh I really liked writing the Madja scene!! I mean, kind of scary obviously, but I enjoy her character and it’s so nice getting to write someone being kind to reader? 😭 Particularly since a fair amount of scenes in cbmthy aren’t particularly lighthearted/high-spirited? I’m hoping to continue dropping scenes with Madja in here and there since it would be weird if reader’s checkups suddenly stopped out of nowhere? Also so she has someone to keep an eye on her who might know a little more about what’s going on with her physically and mentally from experience and studying other people/medicine?

‘(its just something i've noticed i struggle with in my own wips lol).’

This might be totally unsolicited/unhelpful, but usually for me if a scene isn’t working or I’m struggling to write it, I’ll either change the perspective or switch to something else entirely? Like the scene just after reader’s entered the kitchen with Cassian I was struggling with, which is why there’s that snippet from Rhys’ pov to section them up? I don’t know if that’ll work for other people, but it’s something I fall back on quite regularly so it might help you too? 🫂🧡💛

‘but she needs someone who's not family to prove that they do care about her and it will not change over a few mistakes. Which is something that Cassian embodies very well later in the chapter too.’

I’m so glad you feel Cassian read that way!! 😭 I’m kind of of the mind that Nesta’s still protective over her sisters and so that might occasionally stretch across to Cassian at times? Also I just feel like Cassian genuinely cares about people in a more (this might sound strange) innocent way? Like more carefully and tenderly?

I would have loved to write Cassian and reader as being good friends but because Cassian’s friends with Feyre I think reader would still always feel in second place and unfortunately it might hinder her more than help 😭

‘Tabbatha... you keep saying you don't know how to portray cassian but i personally think you do him such a great service’

I’m literally refusing to respond to this because I’m so embarrassed and flustered from the compliment 😶‍🌫️

‘As a kid growing up we NEVER ate dinner together, so reader's apprehension to going to dinner is so real, and Mor sitting across from her?’

Yes! And especially after she’s done something that so obviously puts her in a vulnerable position too? Now they all know that she was in a place like that I can’t imagine reader will feel particularly comfortable over dinner 😭

As for Mor, I think I’m actually going to be writing this scene tonight, so I’ll be interested to see what happens? (Because honestly I don’t 100% know how it’s going to go either 😭🫣)

‘oh myyyy goodness, ik this chapter just came out but im already rereading hehehe im so excited for the next one’

Babes oh my gosh I was struggling to start chapter 18 so did a change 🫢🫣

I had so much fun writing the opening scene to the next part and I’ll be so excited to hear some thoughts on it—if you or anyone has any thoughts on it, of course 🧡💛

#🤠 anon <3 #🤠#cbmthy #cbmthy chapter 17 #cbmthy chapter 18

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dottielovegood · 2 years ago

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I love the holiday prompts! Maybe 7 or 11 for Feyre and Cassian causing chaos together like they do when they’re decorating together ACOFAS? (Perhaps they even involve Elain and Azriel in their nonsense this year!)

Thank you so much for this prompt! It was my first time writing something that wasn't purely elriel, which really forced me out of my comfort zone. I'm not sure I got the characterization of Cassian and Feyre completely right, but I hope you like it anyway! :) I had a lot of fun with this one (and I got to re-read all the Solstice scenes in the books for research, which was great!)

I wanted to post this a few days ago but then life (and Christmas) got in the way. I hope you're all still feeling at least a bit festive!

7: "What is it?" (and odd Christmas gift) 11: "I can't believe we did that"

Summary: While drunkenly decorating the house for Solstice, Cassian and Feyre decide to do some last minute Solstice shopping for Elain and Azriel.

───── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─────

Solstice Mischief

A few days before Solstice

“A little more to the right.”

Cassian held up the giant wreath over the fireplace and moved it slightly to his right. “Like this?”

Feyre sipped her wine and gave him a thumbs up, “That’s perfect.”

“So, it’s in the middle now?”

“Not even close,” she laughed and took another sip. This was her third glass of wine and she was already feeling slightly drunk. She hadn’t had much alcohol since having Nyx and apparently, her new body was a bit more sensitive to the effects of wine now.

She watched from her seat on the sofa as Cassian put the wreath up over the mantle. It looked awful. They had made the wreath together earlier and it was definitely the ugliest wreath she had ever seen, which is exactly what made it so perfect.

This had become one of the traditions Feyre most looked forward to on Solstice - getting drunk and decorating the house with Cassian. They hadn’t meant for it to look so awful that first year, but the two bottles of wine had certainly not turned either of them into interior designers. When Azriel had seen what they had done, he had promptly started to fix their mistakes while muttering under his breath that Feyre was an artist and should, at least, be able to decorate the mantle properly.

The next year, Feyre had asked Cassian to come over just to get his mind off the fact that Nesta was going to dance with Eris in the Court of Nightmares the following evening. Feyre, being pregnant, had obviously not gotten drunk that year but Cassian had drunk enough for both of them. Then Cassian had asked her if she thought that Azriel would come to their rescue again if they tried to decorate the house just like the previous year, and since Feyre was adamant on making Cassian feel better, she just let him lead the way. That year, the ugliness had been intentional.

And sure enough, as soon as Azriel stepped through the door that evening he had just taken one look at the mess they had made and started to sweep the floor.

“You really are the worst decorators in Prythian,” he told them as he straightened the garlands.

This year, they obviously needed to protect their reputation as The Worst Decorators in Prythian, which is why they asked Rhys to take Nyx for the evening. Elain had already made plans to go out for some last minute Solstice shopping with the twins, so they had the house all to themselves.

“So, do you think we can do an even shittier job than last year?” Cassian asked as soon as he arrived at the house, carrying an armful of pine boughs. Feyre had just smiled at him and pointed to the tree in the corner of the room. “I got the saddest looking tree at the market earlier.”

Cassian raised his eyebrows and nodded in silent appreciation. “Wow, we might actually make him cry this year.”

“There is no way he can make this tree look good.”

“No chance in hell,” Cassian chuckled. “Get the wine, Feyre. We have some work to do.”

A few hours later and they were almost done. Feyre looked around the room and had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing. Not only was the floor covered in pine needles, but every single thing was crooked or slightly out of place.

Cassian took a step back to admire his handiwork. “Well, that wreath really is ugly, Feyre. Maybe we should have asked Elain for some help?”

“And where would be the fun in that?” she asked from where she was seated on the couch, sorting through the last box of decorations. “We want to make Azriel’s pedantic side itch, remember? If Elain helped, he would probably love it all. They are both perfectionists.”

Cassian poured himself another glass of wine and sat down next to Feyre. “And he has a soft spot for your sister, so yeah, that would totally ruin our plan.”

Feyre smiled at him, “He does, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Cassian hesitated for just a moment. “Or, he did, at least.”

“What do you mean?”

Cassian let out a breath. “Honestly, I feel like I never see him anymore. A few months ago, I remember thinking that he was starting to get over Mor, and it got me thinking of a possible reason behind that, and I came to the conclusion that Elain might be the reason. I thought they were just friends, but the way he always stood up for her, always protected her,” he shrugged. “I don’t know. I might be completely wrong.”

Feyre sat up straighter and turned to face him, “You know, I once told Rhys that Elain would probably cling to Azriel if she ever came to Prythian, and that’s what she did. She let him take her out in the garden, she spent a good part of that first Solstice with him talking about her plans for the garden…” Feyre trailed off, trying to think of the last time she had seen her sister and Azriel together. She couldn’t remember.

“And she gave him that headache powder,” Cassian added.

Feyre smiled at the memory. At the way her friend had thrown his head back and laughed when he opened the gift from her sister. She had never heard such joy from that male before, or since.

“What did they get each other last year?”

“I… honestly, I don’t remember.” Cassian scratched his jaw, seeming lost in thoughts. “Lucien got her a pair of earrings, right?”

Feyre nodded. “Yes, but I can’t remember what Az gave her. Or if she got him anything.”

Cassian hummed and raised his glass to his lips. “Neither can I.”

Feyre tried, and failed, to remember what everyone got that Solstice. Maybe they had gotten each other gifts and she had just forgotten, but it was definitely more likely that they hadn’t. Feyre would have remembered. Wouldn’t she?

So many things had changed in a year. Feyre was happy that all the people she loved were still alive, yet she still felt an ache in her heart when she thought about Azriel. Something had changed in him since last year and she had no idea what, or why.

“How is he doing?” she asked carefully, hoping that Cassian might know something about his friend, though she doubted it.

Cassian just shrugged. “I don’t know. As I said, I barely see him. He has been on missions for weeks on end all year. He barely has time to touch down at home before he’s off again.”

“Where is he now?” Feyre tried to remember what Rhys had told her about Azriel’s whereabouts, but it was impossible for her to remember in her current wine haze.

“The continent. He was going to meet up with Mor and then they’ll go home together for Solstice.”

“And then?”

Cassian let out a humorless laugh. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Feyre leaned back and emptied her glass of wine. She let out a heavy breath, “I miss him.”

“Me too,” he said and patted her knee. “Me too.”

Silence fell between them and Feyre couldn’t help but wonder if Elain missed Azriel too. Elain had always been hard to read since she always kept her thoughts and feelings for herself in order to not bother anyone. For a while there, she started to open up and stand up for herself and a part of Feyre had always thought that Elain’s friendship with Azriel was part of that. But then something changed…

Cassian squeezed her knee, effectively bringing her back to reality. He reached for the bottle and refilled her glass. “Okay, we’re starting to sound very sad-drunk when we’re supposed to be festive-drunk,” he put the bottle down and raised his glass. “To being the worst decorators in Velaris three years in a row.”

Feyre laughed and clinked her glass to his, “I’ll drink to that.”

They spent the next 30 minutes decorating the tree together and Feyre couldn’t stop laughing at how awful it looked. “It’s like putting makeup on a pig.” This was the first time they had ever had a real tree indoors for Solstice since it was an Illyrian tradition and not something most people in Velaris did. It might also very well be the last, unless they decided to piss Azriel off for the fourth time in a row.

Cassian held up the last item in the box. “Do you want to do the honors?”

Feyre took the golden star from him and looked at the tree. There was no chance in hell that she was reaching the top. Even Cassian might be too short for this monstrosity. “I think you might have to carry me.”

Without so much as a word, Cassian wrapped his arms around her and hoisted her up. She shrieked and grabbed the nearest wall just to keep herself from falling. “High enough for you, high lady?” Cassian chuckled and tightened his grip around her waist.

“Actually, if you could go a bit higher…”

“If I did, that would put your ass right in my face, and there is only one Archeron ass I want in my face and I’m sorry to tell you, but it’s not yours.” Feyre reached behind herself and smacked Cassian with the tree topper, which just earned her a roaring laugh from her friend.

Somehow, she was able to put the tree topper on the tree without injuring anyone and when Cassian let her down they stepped back to behold the wonder of the ugliest tree in Velaris.

“He’s going to hate it.”

Cassian grinned, “I think everyone will hate this. We have absolutely outdone ourselves.” He held up his hand and Feyre smacked it with hers. “But yes, he will have a fit,” Cassian continued. “Hopefully he’ll get some nice gifts to make up for it.”

“Maybe some new towels from Mor?” Feyre suggested.

“I could always give him one of the silk shirts she’s given me over the years.”

Feyre let out a snort. “How is she so bad at gift giving?”

“I have no idea,” Cassian shrugged. “She’s always been shit at it.”

Feyre lifted her glass to her lips and was very disappointed to find it empty.

“Speaking of gifts,” Cassian continued, “Do you think Azriel has bought Elain something this year? I mean, even if they didn’t give each other anything last year, Elain still gave him that powder. Which means that he owes her”

Clearly, Feyre wasn’t the only one who couldn’t stop thinking about the lack of gifts between her sister and the shadowsinger last year.

“I don’t think you can really owe anyone when it comes to gifts. At least I don’t think Elain would see it that way.”

Cassian raised his eyebrows. “Have you met Azriel?” he asked. “Do you really think that he would be fine with getting anything without giving something back?”

Feyre shook her head because no, no he wouldn’t. “That’s why it’s so weird that they didn’t get each other anything last year. I really did expect him to buy her something.” Feyre chewed her bottom lip, hesitating a bit before continuing. “But then again, Lucien was there. It might have been awkward if Azriel gave his mate a gift.”

“You mean more awkward than Elain’s reaction to Lucien’s gift?” Cassian said, a grin spreading across his lips.

Feyre covered her face with her hands from the secondhand embarrassment that particular memory invoked in her. “Gods, don’t remind me.” Feyre was happy that Lucien wasn’t joining them for Solstice this year. Not because she didn’t want him there, but because his presence clearly made Elain uncomfortable.

“Maybe we should just buy her a gift from Azriel and see what happens?” Cassian laughed, clearly joking.

Until he wasn’t.

At the exact same moment, they both turned to each other, a silent understanding in their eyes.

Maybe it was the wine talking, but Feyre said. “I mean, it’s not the worst idea you’ve ever had.”

He shoved her playfully. “What do you mean? I have never had a bad idea in my entire life.”

“Uh-huh, if you say so.”

Cassian smiled at her, his eyes alight with mischief. “No, but seriously. We could, couldn’t we?”

“We could…” Feyre murmured. “But wouldn’t that potentially leave Azriel without a gift? Then we would have to do this all over again.”

“Let’s get him one too. And if they have gotten each other gifts, we’ll just hide the ones we got them.”

Feyre stared at him, unable to hide her slightly drunken smile. “Are you serious? Do you really want to do this?”

The wicked smirk on Cassian’s face was the only answer she needed. “Get your cloak, Feyre. We’re going shopping.”

Velaris was bustling with life. Since she first set foot in Velaris, she had loved this city that she now called home, but there was just something about Velaris during Solstice that made her fall in love with the city all over again. There were colorful lights and garlands in every shop window, children playing in the snow and everyone just seemed to have less worries in life during this time of year.

People greeted them as they walked past and a few children tried to get Cassian to join them in a snowball fight.

“Not tonight,” he said and ruffled one small boy’s hair. “I am on a very important mission.”

“A secret mission?” the child asked, his eyes big and full of wonder.

“Exactly, so you can’t tell anyone that you saw us.”

The children promised to keep the secret, which probably meant that they would tell their families all about it as soon as they came home. Feyre just smiled at them as they ran back to their snow forts. She couldn’t wait to get back home to her own family.

As if on cue, she heard Rhysand’s voice in her mind.

Where are you, Feyre darling?

His voice made heat spread through her entire body.

Just doing some last minute Christmas shopping with Cassian.

I hope that you’re not buying any more decorations because this house looks awful as is.

He sent her an image down the bond of their living room that was still covered in pine needles and crooked decorations. She had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing.

Don’t worry. We’re just getting a few gifts.

She didn’t tell him about their excellent plan. This was a secret mission, after all.

And when are you getting home?

Soon. Why? Do you miss me already?

I miss you all the time.

His voice was smooth like velvet and Feyre almost asked Cassian to do the shopping by himself so she could return home to her mate. She missed him too, and she missed her son. She hated spending time away from them.

Before she could answer him, he continued,

I was hoping to find you here. Nyx is sleeping, and Elain isn’t home yet.

Oh? And what were you planning? Feyre teased.

He sent her multiple images down the bond of exactly what he wanted to do to her if she had been home. Blushing and distracted, she almost crashed into Cassian’s back.

“Could you stop having mind sex in public?” Cassian muttered and motioned for her to turn left.

Prick

The only answer she received was Rhysand’s warm laughter. She wanted to bathe in that sound.

They went into a few shops, considering getting a tea set or kitchen utensils for Elain and daggers for Azriel, but everything just felt wrong and too impersonal. They needed to find something that Elain and Azriel would actually buy each other, which was proving to be more difficult than they had imagined.

“How about this one?” Cassian held up a book about poisonous plants. “Might be useful?”

Feyre grimaced, “I might have already gotten her that.”

“Of course you have,” he muttered and put the book back. “God, this is impossible.”

“If we don’t find anything in ten minutes, we should probably give up.” Feyre turned around and went back to rummaging through the stacks of cook books.

Cassian nodded, but she could tell that he really wasn’t keen on the idea of giving up. When he set his mind to something, it would take a lot for him to back down.

“How about this one?” Cassian handed her a small, black book decorated with roses and swirls of blues threaded through the vines that decorated the edges. She traced her fingers over the intricate pattern. “It’s pretty.” She turned it over to read the blurb, but there was none.

“It’s a notebook,” Cassian explained and opened up the book. “Maybe she could write recipes or garden plans in it?”

Feyre hummed and looked around the store again. This was certainly the best gift they had found so far, and she was starting to doubt that they would find something else. “That’s actually a really good idea. I think she’ll like it.”

“See, all of my ideas are great,” Cassian beamed. “So, should we get it?”

“Yeah, we might as well. It’s definitely better than the spatula you showed me earlier.”

They continued down the streets of Velaris until they reached the Rainbow. Feyre could see that the lights were still on in her studio, which meant that Ressina might still be there.

Feyre took Cassian by the arm and led him to one of her favorite places in the city. She wanted to show him the art that the children had made a few weeks prior. Their work was now being sold and the money would be donated to families in need. It had been the children’s idea and Feyre’s heart had melted when she saw how hard they all worked in order to create their little paintings and clay figurines for such a good cause.

Ressina greeted them with a warm smile and hugs as soon as they stepped in the door.

“I didn’t expect to see you this evening,” she said. “Weren’t you decorating your home tonight?”

“We finished early.”

“I bet it turned out beautiful.”

Feyre didn’t dare look at Cassian because she knew that she would burst out laughing if she did.

“It’s definitely festive.” She could hear the smile in Cassian’s voice and knew that he was trying to hold back his own laughter.

“I just wanted to show him the children’s work.”

Ressina gestured to the shop, “Well, most things have been sold already,” she smiled, pride written all over her face. “But there are a few things left. You can go look while I finish cleaning the work stations.”

They walked over to the table by the window where the children had displayed their work. There were only a few pieces left and Feyre considered buying all of them, even though she wouldn’t be able to tell what most of them were supposed to be. She just didn’t want a single child to come in here and see that nobody had bought their art.

“What is that?” Cassian pointed to a painting made by one of the younger children. He turned his head, “It could be a horse, but it could also be a very colorful spider.”

“Well, whatever it is, it has twelve legs, which is a bit excessive,” she laughed. “Luckily, art doesn’t have to make sense.”

Feyre picked up one of the figurines. “Look, it’s you!”

Cassian furrowed his eyebrows. “How is that me? It’s a black blob.”

“Ah, yes. But it’s a black blob with wings.” She pointed to the oddly shaped wings that stuck out from the black figure. She knew that it was, in fact, supposed to be an Illyrian warrior. The girl that made it told her so, and was very proud when she finished it.

Cassian snorted. “What is that pink thing he’s holding?”

“Honestly, I just think she accidentally dipped her brush in the wrong paint and forgot to fix it.” She held it up next to his face. “The resemblance is uncanny.”

Grinning, he took the figurine from her. “I think it looks more like Azriel. His wings are smaller and a bit wonky.”

Feyre couldn’t help but to think back to the conversation she had with Mor years ago about Illyrians and their wingspans. Laughing, she patted Cassian’s arm. “Sure, whatever makes you sleep better at night.”

“I’m serious,” he held it up to the light. “Add a few blue siphons and nobody could tell the difference.”

“A few minutes ago you called it a blob.”

“Yes, but it’s an Azriel shaped blob. We should get it for him.”

Feyre looked at the black figurine in Cassian’s hand. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was quite certain that nobody else would buy it. It did look like a blob with wings.

Even if Azriel ended up hating it, at least buying it would be for a good cause. “Maybe we should. I can add some siphons.”

Cassian’s face lit up. “Perfect.”

“But this can’t be the gift from Elain,” she added quickly.

“Why not?”

Feyre stared at him. “Does it look like something Elain would buy him? Elain, the person who gives people the most thoughtful gifts?”

He shrugged, “This is a very thoughtful gift. It was made with love and the money goes to a great cause.”

“Are you just tired of shopping?” she asked, already knowing the answer. She was also tired and wanted nothing more than to go home and let Rhys do all the things he had shown her earlier.

“Very,” Cassian sighed. “Seriously, it’s not like we’ll find anything better. We have visited every single shop in Velaris and this is the best thing we could find,” he gestured to the black thing. “He is impossible to shop for.”

And wasn’t that the truth. Azriel had always been the one Feyre struggled to find presents for. He was very private, and very particular about the things he bought himself. She didn’t even dare to buy him socks since he probably had a special kind he preferred. She knew that this was their last hope, so with a sigh, she relented.

“Fine, let’s get it. At least one child will be happy to find that someone bought their art.”

Cassian threw his arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry. If there’s anything left at Solstice, I’ll buy it all.”

“Really? Even the twelve legged horse-spider?”

“Especially the horse-spider. It’s growing on me.”

–-------

Solstice evening

Cassian was seated on one of the green velvet sofas, Nestas legs draped over his lap, her head leaning against his shoulder. He had always loved spending Solstice with his family, but spending it with his mate was even better than he could have ever imagined. Last year, Nesta hadn’t been ready to accept the truth yet and the days prior to Solstice had been full of jealousy and anxiety for him. But then, on that fateful night, things had finally changed between them. It had been a Solstice miracle, if he ever saw one.

And now here they were, with friends and family, just like it should be. Azriel and Mor had arrived around midday, which meant that Azriel didn’t have time to fix their decorations before the rest of the guests arrived. If it hadn’t been for the annoyance so clearly painted on Azriel’s face, he might have actually regretted how ugly they made the house this year since they now had to look at it all evening.

But their decorations luckily seemed forgotten when Elain and the twins presented them with this year's feast. During this past year, Elain had definitely taken her cooking skills to a new level. Cassian couldn’t even remember the last time he had ever been this full.

Because of his and Feyre’s little excursion earlier that week, Cassian couldn’t help but to pay extra close attention to Elain and Azriel. Every time Elain was near, Azriel’s shadows seemed to lessen around him, yet they never once talked to each other. Elain didn’t even look at Azriel when he complimented the food. He had no idea what he was witnessing, but he was starting to realize that something might have actually happened between the two. He just wished he knew what.

During dinner, he caught Feyre’s eye and he could see his own confusion mirrored there. If he had been a better man, he probably would have removed the two gifts he had placed in the gift pile in the living room earlier that day. But he was not a better man, and he was frankly annoyed at Azriel for not telling him anything about his life. If something had happened with Elain, Azriel should have told him. Sure, Az was private and didn’t like to talk about his life, but this was family. Whatever bothered him, he should know that Cassian was there for him. So Cassian decided to go forward with his and Feyre’s plan. His decision was even more solidified when he snuck off to the living room to read the notes on the presents there.

No gift from Azriel to Elain.

No gift from Elain to Azriel.

After dinner, they had all gathered in the living room. Cassian, Nesta and Mor in one couch and Elain, Feyre, Rhysand and Nyx in the one opposite. Varian and Amren occupied the two armchairs.

Azriel had decided to stand by the fire, a good distance away from the rest of them.

Since Mor had taken the place closest to the gifts, she was the one who picked them up one by one and handed them out. So far, Cassan had received yet another awful shirt from Mor and a book from Rhysand. Elain had given Nesta the latest Sellyn Drake book and Cassian could see how much she itched to get home so she could start reading it.

“This one's for Elain,” Mor called out and handed the gift to Elain. “From Azriel,” she added and Cassian felt his own body go tense. Azriel, though, didn’t seem fazed in the slightest, his face neutral. Though his eyes followed Elain’s every move, just as they had done most of the evening. There was something charged between them that Cassian couldn’t decipher, but for just a moment, he regretted this drunken idea. Would this make things even more awkward between them?

Elain said nothing when she took the gift from Mor. She didn’t even look at Azriel, or any of them. Her eyes were glued to the gift, her eyebrows furrowed. Cassian dared a glance at Feyre and she was looking right at him.

For just a moment, she invited him into her mind. Maybe this was a bad idea?

Well, there’s no turning back now.

And there wasn’t, because Elain had started to unwrap the gift. Cassian’s eyes drifted to Rhys, who was staring at Azriel with an expression he hadn’t seen on his High Lord’s face before. Whatever he was trying to convey with his eyes, it wasn’t anything positive. What the hell?

Elain let the paper fall to the floor and they all watched her turn the small book over in her hands. “A notebook,” she murmured, her eyes still not meeting Azriel’s, but Azriel was watching her, his hazel eyes soft and careful, shadows retreating. In 500 years, Cassian had only seen him look at one other person like that and for the first time since they decorated the house, Cassian wondered if they might actually have made a mistake in buying these gifts. This was supposed to be funny; a joke, but right now, that was the last word he would use to describe this situation.

He was watching Elain intently, silently praying that she wouldn’t be upset. Her fingers traced one of the roses on the cover and Cassian wished that he could read her mind.

When Azriel spoke, Cassian prepared for the worst.

“For your poetry,” he said and for the first time all evening, Elain turned to face him.

Cassian had no idea what Azriel was talking about. That male could really pull a lie out of his ass. Elain liked flowers and baking – since when did she enjoy poetry?

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. It felt as if the entire room was holding their breath together. Finally, after what felt like a small eternity, Elain lifted her gaze and looked at Azriel. “Thank you.” She lowered her gaze just as quickly, but Cassian didn’t miss the small smile on her lips.

“You’re welcome, Elain.”

She didn’t put the book in the pile with her other gifts, Cassian noticed. No, she kept it in her lap, as if hesitant to be away from it. Then, for just a second, her eyes met Cassian’s, and the knowing look he found there had him wondering if she had seen this. If she, somehow, knew exactly who had bought her that gift.

Shit. How could he have forgotten that she was a freaking seer?

He dared another look at Feyre, and from the way she was looking at him, he could tell that she was thinking the same thing.

“And this one is for Amren,” Mor said cheerfully and held up the gift Cassian had wrapped this morning, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the room. But Cassian knew her better than that. She wanted to bring the attention back to herself. Wanted people to stop staring at Az and Elain. He didn’t blame her.

Amren took the gift, unwrapping it unceremoniously and Cassian had to bite back a laugh at the expression on her face when she held up the horse-spider painting in front of her.

“What is it?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowed as she beheld the colorful painting.

“A horse-spider. I think.”

She glared at him. “There is no such thing as a horse-spider, Cassian.”

“I am aware.” He had to force himself not to look at Feyre because he knew that he wouldn’t be able to hold back his laughter if he did. “I bought it at Feyre’s gallery.”

Amren held up the painting in front of her again, a disgusted look on her face. “I hate it.”

“Hey, a child made that,” Feyre interjected.

“I can tell. There is absolutely no real craftsmanship behind this painting.”

Mor continued handing out gifts until there was only one left and Cassian held his breath when she read the note Feyre had attached to it. “For Azriel, from Elain,” Mor read, her voice softer now, as if she knew that this meant something, even though she didn’t know what.

Elain was staring at Mor, her mouth slightly agape as Azriel took the gift from Mor’s hands. But she stayed quiet. Said nothing about the fact that she hadn’t bought him anything.

She was still holding the notebook in her lap and Cassian’s heart softened just a bit at that. Maybe their plan hadn’t been so awful after all?

The tearing of paper was the only sound in the room apart from the soft snores coming from the small child in Rhysand’s arms. Azriel, who had barely shown a single emotion during this entire ordeal, looked surprised at the small figurine he was now holding in his hand. He turned it over a few times, as if that would make him understand what he was holding.

Finally, he looked at Elain and asked, “What is it?” His voice was gentle, as if to not startle her. Elain opened her mouth but promptly closed it again, clearly having no clue what Azriel was holding.

Luckily, Feyre was there to save her sister. Thank the gods. “It’s an illyrian warrior,” she explained matter of factly. “She got it at the studio. One of the children made it. She was very proud of her creation.”

“Was she now?” Azriel asked, his mouth turning into a smirk. “And it just happened to have blue siphons?”

Again, Feyre smiled sweetly and spoke for Elain. “No, I added those.”

Azriel hummed and turned the black thing over in his hands once more. Cassian could see the shadowsinger’s mind working, trying to make sense of this entire situation. If Azriel ever found out what they had done, he was certain that there would be hell to pay.

“And what about this pink thing in his hands?” Azriel pointed to the same spot Cassian has asked about days prior. “Or, well, I assume they’re his hands.”

Cassian expected Feyre to explain this too, but someone else spoke before she even had the chance to open her mouth.

He had been so focused on Azriel, he hadn’t noticed that Elain had now fully turned towards Azriel, her gaze meeting his. “A rose.” It was barely more than a whisper. “He’s holding a rose.”

And with that, Azriel’s features softened, his shoulder’s relaxing just slightly.

“Thank you. It’s a lovely gift.”

A blush spread across Elain’s cheeks and Cassian had no idea what just happened, he was just glad that they seemed to have gotten away with their drunken plan without anyone getting hurt.

“You’re welcome,” Elain said with a gentle smile directed at the shadowsinger.

–-

A while later, when Amren and Varian had left and Rhys had disappeared to the nursery to put Nyx in his cot, Cassian found Feyre in the kitchen. Elain was still in the living room talking to the Mor and Nesta. And Azriel.

As soon as Feyre saw him she whispered, “I can’t believe we did that,” her eyes wide and full of humor. “I really thought that Az would call us out on our bullshit.”

“I know…” Cassian murmured, careful to keep his voice low. “When Elain opened that notebook, she looked so sad. I almost told her that it was a stupid joke right then and there.”

Feyre nodded. “Yeah, me too.” She looked past him into the living room. “At least we didn’t make things worse.”

Cassian shrugged and smiled at her. “If I do say so myself, we might have actually made things better between them. I mean look at them,” he gestured to the living room. “They are smiling. In each other’s presence.”

“That, they are.”

“Maybe I should quit my job and become a matchmaker.”

Feyre laughed and patted his arm. “Well, you’re definitely better at matchmaking than decorating.”

“Right back at you.”

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #cassian #feyre archeron #acotar fanfiction

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kmblckbk · 2 years ago

Text

sun & shadow

part 4

18+ mature content, contains smut

*contains spoilers for ACOTAR*

eris x reader / azriel x reader

word count: 3064

---------------------------------------------------

The date with Azriel was nice. He brought you to a nice little restaurant, where he reserved a place on the roof, so you could not only admire him for his beauty, but also the beautiful night sky. Half way thought the date tho, your mind wondered of to Eris. Why did he never do this, would he have taken you out if he wasn't so busy. If his dad didn't hate you so much. "what are you thinking right now?" Azriel asks you, clearly noticing your change in behavior. "oh nothing" you say putting on a fake smile. "I'm serious y/n, where did your mind wonder to. You look.....sad. you can tell me" he says grabbing your hand from across the table.

You sigh "it's just, I had a boyfriend before you and......it's complicated" you say, looking to the ground, feeling your gonna cry. You wink away the tears, you were not gonna cry over this. Your on a date with your mate, smile god damnit. "you wanna talk about it?" he asks carefully. You stay silent trying to put a smile on your face but you can't. "his uhm......his father banished me because he didn't like me, no that bastard hated me" you tell him "I had no other choice then to leave. And I couldn't tell my boyfriend, his father ordered me to leave before he came back. And I had to, he was gonna kill me if I wasn't' gone before them." "that's horrible" Azriel says, squeezing your hand. "that's not even the worst part" you says smiling thu the tears that now run down your face. "the worst thing is that my boyfriend, who was gonna ask me to marry him, didn't come to find me. if he really tried he would find me, I left clues for him, he would find me within a fucking day, and he didn't. he just let me go. How can someone do that, someone who claims that he loves you." you say now fully crying. Azriel walks over to you and hugs you.

something told you he didn't hug a lot, or really anyone. But it was comforting. "I guess I'm just scared you will leave me too, like everyone has". "I'm not gonna leave you. and Eris didn't too". "h-how did you know it was him?" you ask him. "Rhys told me what you said this morning. And Eris didn't just leave you. he misses you a lot, but his father made it look like you stole him moms dowry". "but I didn't do that" you tell him. "I know. And I told Eris he should look into it. He just believes you dated him for the money, which is fucking stupid because I know you for a day and I already know you would never do that."

You look up at him, while he still holds you in his arms. "how do you know Eris?" you ask him. "I frequently spy on the autumn court. One day he found out I was spying on them and well, he started to help me. tell me things that happened and changed in the autumn court and rumors he heard from other courts as well. We're kinda friend. He was devastated the day you left. He still is." He tell you, as he wipes the tears out of your eyes. "then why isn't he here yet?" you ask him. "I don't know, maybe he just feels guilty for not doing it earlier". "or he's just an asshole and I just didn't see it" you tell him. "all I know. Is that you're worth more than this. You deserve someone who's gonna worry where you are, if your away for just a minute to long. You deserve it to not be alone anymore, You deserve to be loved" Azriel says, holding your head between his hands. "Az" you whisper before his velvet lips touch yours. "I know it's early, but you already mean so much to me. and if that dickhead doesn't think you're worth it, that's his fault. All I know is that I'm gonna try my best to make you feel wanted and loved" he says. Tears stream down your face, but not from sadness this time. Nobody ever said something like that to you. you put your hands against his chest. "I'm gonna make sure I'll make you feel the exact same Azriel" you tell him before you kiss him. "hmmm, let's go home" Azriel whispers against your lips. "hmmm, no it's gonna take to long" you say pulling him in for another deep kiss. You feel him smile against your lips. "oh babygirl, so needy already" he says mockingly, with a loving undertone. "but we can't do this here". He says as he lifts you up and flies home, holding you tightly.

Eris' pov

Smart girl you thing as you see the clues y/n left. You decided to follow Azriel advise and go looking for her. and you think he was right, because she wouldn't have left these clues if she really was running after she stole something. At the same time it makes you feel guilty, because you hate that it took you so long to figure it out. Of course your dad was lying, you wouldn't even be surprised if he threatened her. you follow the clues while looking around. The clues end at the boarder of the night court. No, no, no ,no that fucking asshole. He knew, he must have known. It was clear as day now. y/n' clues ended on the boarder of the night court, like she couldn't anymore. And Az, fucking Azriel said he rescued a girl at the border. Shit she was his mate. "oh no I didn't think so, she's mine" you seethe under your breath as you run as fast as you can. That asshole is gonna pay. And you are gonna take your girl with you.

Your pov

As soon as you're home you run up to Azriel's room, but he is faster. he picks you up, throws you over your shoulder and takes you upstairs. You pass Rhysand, Feyre and Cassian. You just hear Feyre say "guess the date went well". Azriel throws open the door to his room and immediately throws you onto the bed. You're laughing. You probably haven't felt this good in forever. "now you're all mine" he says as he gets on top of you and starts placing kisses everywhere. His hand go to the zipper of your dress and he slowly slides it down your body. You get goosebumps all over your body from his soft touch. Even to his hands were full of scars, they still felt so soft on your skin. He quickly gets rid of his leathers. Before he places a trail op kisses down your body, all the way from your mouth to your stomach and lower, and lower. He stops as he sees the scar on you thigh. "you're beautiful" he whispers against your skin before he kisses the scar lovingly. "and I swear I'm gonna destroy everyone who's ever hurt you" he says looking up at you. you grab one of his hands and place a kiss over his scars "and I'm gonna do the same for you" you tell him before he kisses you hard and deep.

A few seconds later you hear Cassian yell "don't go in there", before the door is thrown open. You quickly stop what you're doing and try to cover yourself with the bed sheets. But you let them down as you see who's standing in the doorway. "Eris?" you whisper, not really believing it. "y/n" he says his voice full of love and....guilt. then he turns to Azriel who's snow standing before the bed, looking like he wanted to protect you. "you knew" Eris spats as him. "I didn't" Azriel says calmly, yet Eris only seemed to become angrier. "YOU KNEW AZ!" he now yells. "I only found out today. She's my mate Eris" he says, still calm as ever. "she is MINE" Eris says, looking angry at Azriel. "calm down Eris". "no I'm not gonna calm down, you knew, you knew she's mine" he says. "first of all, she get's to choose if that's still the case. Second I really didn't know Eris, I swear, I found out today after I got back from the autumn court". you see Eris calm down. His eyes trail over Az' body. Taking it in, like he want's to fuck him as much as you do. "what's going on?" you ask them. Both set of eyes turn towards you. "oh tank god you're okay" Eris says, sounding genuinely relieved. "I asked you guys a question, what is going on with you 2?" you clearly sensed there was more to them than 'just friend or frenemies, whatever they clamed to be. "we uhm. It doesn't matter, I'm taking you home" Eris says. "no your not, she's my mate" Azriel says. "I don't care if she's your mate or not. She's my girlfriend and I'm taking her home. Now". "hell no, she's staying here, where she belongs". "STOP!" you yell at them, now standing up from the bed. You were done with all this. "I'm going with no one, I belong to no one and I will choose what I do with my life" you tell them clearly. "you're right I'm sorry" Azriel says. "I'm sorry too, I just really miss you" Eris says softly. "now say sorry to each other" you order them, and they do. "now a make up kiss" you say. They both move towards you. "no not me" you say pointing to them both. If you guessed correctly you knew the tension between them was sexual. Guess you were right, because they kiss eachother with a passion you didn't expect. You smile at them as they let go of one another. "good, now that that is resolved... close the door and make me fucking cum" you say smiling, and you didn't had to ask twice.

Azriel walks up to you and grabs your chin "oh we're gonna make you cum so hard baby girl" he says his voice even lower than normal. "but let's make one thing clear, we are in control" Eris says, lust in his voice as he comes up behind you and softly bites your earlobe. "that mean you can only come when we tell you too, clear?". You franticly nod your head Eris' hand find your waist and he quickly turns you around, pressing you into his chest. "we're gonna ruin you" he whispers, before his lips find yours. You feel Az kiss and lick your neck, leaving love bites here and there.

Eris' kisses grow more despite, while Azriel lowers his hand towards your panties. "please" you beg softly. Azriel let's out a chuckle "so impatient" he says before he slides his hand further down, resting between your legs, where you want him. a shaky sigh escapes your throat. He begins to palm your pussy and another sigh leaves your mouth. Which is directly claimed by Eris a second later. Eris rubs his tongue against yours. You whimper as you both break apart to breath, right as Azriel slowly traces a finger through your wet folds before he teasingly circles your clit. You hold onto Eris tightly. "fuck your so beautiful like this" Eris says before his lips devours yours once again. Azriel motions his fingers harder, sending chills across your body. You grind into his hand, while you pull Eris even closer, seeking your pleasure between their hardened bodies.

You feel both there stiff cocks pressing against you both from the front and the back. You grind into Azriel while your hand rubs over Eris' cock. They both let out a groan at your movements. A smile appears on your face. You grab Eris' cock harder and he let's out a low growl. Your breath hitches in your throat as Azriel speeds up his fingers, rubbing your clit in even tighter circles. You moan lustfully, wanting more. You feel your orgasm rise, but just as your think you're bout to explode, Azriel's fingers leave you. before you can protest Azriel turns you around and drops onto his knees before you. he slowly slides down your panties, while he looks up at you. "oh baby girl, we didn't say you get to cum yet" he says teasingly before he orders you to sit down on the edge of the bed. You do and he looks at you with lust in his eyes. He spreads your legs wide, staring at your wet pussy. "gods so wet already, can't wait to taste you" he says tone full of lust. "oh Az, she tastes divine" Eris says as he sits on the bed behind you and unclips your bra, before he starts to play with your breasts.

Azriel leans in, his fingers digging into your thighs to hold you firmly in place. He traces his tongue between your wet folds. "fuck" you moan out as you feel his tongue where you want him most. He licks you teasingly before he swipes his togue over your clit and pleasure spreads thru your body. He flicks his tongue over your clit, over and over again, making you dizzy with sensations. Eris pinches your nipples and at the same time Azriel sucks hard on your clit, which has you screaming in pleasure. "fuck yes!". A rising pressure fills the pit in your stomach and Azriel pushes 2 fingers into your wet heat. His trust slow and steady, caressing your inner walls. "oh please" you beg "faster". Azriel sucks harder on your clit while his finger pump in and out of you, hard and fast. "oh fuck" you moan as your hands trail to Az' hair, wanting more, but Eris grabs your hands and puts them behind your back. "oh no you're not gonna cum yet princess" he says teasingly. "please" you beg. "be still I want to hear how good of a jobs he's doing" Eris says. You do as he says trying to hold back your moans. a blush rises in your cheeks as you hear the sounds of your wet pussy being fingered and licked. You lean back against Eris, the sensation too overwhelming. "please, please. Can I come. Please" you almost yell out. "not yet baby, look at Az, look at how he's gonna make you cum" Eris orders you. Azriel's eyes find yours. The sight making you even more dizzy with pleasure. "oh, please" you beg, no longer able to hold your orgasm. "now come fore us love" Eris whispers in your ear. With one more thrust of Azriel's fingers, ecstasy erupts through your body and you cry out as you come. "that's my good girl" Eris says placing kisses in your neck. Every muscle contracts in your body and you hear Azriel moan as he licks up every drop. You shudder and you try to catch your breath, before you look up and see both men grinning at you.

"fuck" you breathe out. "oh were not done with you yet" Azriel says as he stand up, towering over you. "on all fours, now!" Azriel orders you and again you do as he says. "such a good girl" you hear him say. "now you better suck Eris' cock while I fucking destroy your pussy" you hear Azriel say as Eris undoes his pants, grinning at az. "who knew you had such a dirty mouth shadowsinger" Eris says grinning. Before looking down at you. "and I can see in your eyes how much you like that too princess". His hands find your hair "now open up that pretty mouth of yours" he says before he pushes himself deep into your mouth. "that's my good girl" he teases as he pushes in even further, making you gag.

You moan as you feel Azriel line himself up behind you, he grips your hips tight before he slowly pushes inside you. "fuck your tight" he groans in satisfaction as he enters you fully, and gods he's big. Your moans are muffled around Eris' girth. You feel Azriel pull out halfway before he trusts back into you. "oh fuck you feel so good baby girl" you hear Azriel moan behind you. and gods do you feel full, you can feel him all the way in your stomach. Azriel's grips tightens on your hips as he moves in and out of you. all while Eris shallowly pushes his cock into your mouth. "fuck I missed you y/n" Eris moans as you suck and lick his dick.

You moan on his cock as Azriel starts to speed up, moving harder and faster into you. you suck harder on Eris' cock, drawing a moan from his throat. "oh please" you moan out as you let go of Eris' cock to breathe. "not yet baby, not yet" he say before he grabs your hair tighter as he trusts into your mouth. "be a good girl and take it" you hear Azriel say before he smacks your ass hard, making you gasp on Eris' cock. They fuck both your holes deep and fast. It's almost too much. You moan on Eris' dick. "oh fuck she's close" Azriel says groaning. "fuck I'm too" Eris says. "you gonna come for us baby?" Az asks you. you nod your head before Eris pushes his dick further inside your mouth, you can feel it in your throat. "oh she coming" Az groans out before you feel him fill you up. Your hips buck wildly as a powerful orgasm explodes thru your body and your muscles go rigid. Seconds later you feel Eris shoot his cum into your mouth. "fuck" he groans before he pulls out of your mouth. You look up at him as you swallow his cum. "you're so beautiful like this" he says lovingly cupping you cheek. "isn't she Az?" "fuck yes" you hear Azriel say.

You collapse on the bed, completely spend. You roll onto your back and see both men staring at you grinning. "oh no we're not done yet" Azriel says.

part 5

masterlist

#acotar #acotar smut #azriel x reader #azrielxreader #eris x reader #erisxreader #azriel smut #eris smut #azrielxeris #sjm universe #bts smut

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birdsinmywalls · 9 months ago

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It’s here!! I told myself I could wait until tomorrow but I had to read it the second I saw it! Love how intimate the snapping ceremony was. Even though they don’t want to be together the fact that they have to hold hands and then they have this moment where they look at each other and agree the tea is gross without saying anything is are great intimate moments to have even with people who are not together. Honestly I feel bad for Sarah J Maas because you wrote a great scene here and if this is truly going to be the plot of the next book she’s going to have to out write this beautiful fic. Specific lines I loved and thoughts below the cut!

“Azriel, ever the traveller, albeit for work, was always bringing her back either a packet of exotic seeds or a new recipe from a cafe or hotel he visited.” Aww that’s really sweet of him!

“He may be her “soul-mate” but he is not her type.” The brutal honesty is so funny!

“Need I remind you that I own my body, it’s not for you to ogle or have an opinion about,” she spits,” Ooo! Get him!

“his only request was that he stay in another house, paid for by Rhysand” lol everyone’s always trying to spend Rhysands money and take his stuff

“I just want her to be happy,” Lucien shares, solemn and defeated.” Not to empathize with Lucian but that’s such a sad comment. Especially because he thinks she’s not attractive so idk why he was insistent on being with her.

“She sighs, resting a hand against the wall, “Would you be alright if I stayed here for the time being?” She asks the house.” Love that she’s talking to the house! That was such a fun development in the book.

“Her book, chocolate and wine are now on a little side table near the bath. The bath smells of roses and jasmine, the bubbles float over the room as they escape the tub, the lights are dimmed, and everything is perfect.” It sounds perfect and I am jealous!!

“This is the same headache powder you gifted me, well,” omg I LOVED when she did that! So funny!

“There is such a remarkable light cast upon him,” she swoons. “It’s no wonder he’s followed by shadows.” GREAT LINE OMG

“Sometimes the second bond is stronger than the first, sometimes it’s the more important bond. The first mate was to teach a lesson, the second was for a lifetime of happiness.” I really like that idea

“He picks her up then, making her squeal slightly, “I will tell you in the comfort of your bed, where you should be.” Melting!

“He’s seen the hurt first hand and yet he wanted me to stay with him, to endure a loveless life, simply so He could have a better connection with the human queen.” Damn it’s true though! Rhysand’s always thinking big picture even people get hurt.

“reminding you how loved you are, making you feel so happy that your shadows turn pink.” What a cute idea! It would be so cool if that was something they learned how to do together; make his shadows change colors.

“Is it from Nesta’s collection?” Another breeze. “How fast does it take effect?” THE HOUSE LOL Such a great wing man lolol

“It’s then that the magnetic pull becomes something more.” EEE OMG

“and that doesn’t hurt your wings at all, laying on your back?” She worries, sitting up as well.” She’s such a sweetheart

“everything I’ve ever wanted and needed wrapped up in one. You are going to feel so loved.” they are so perfect for each other I can’t even!

“It drapes over them like ivy and wisteria taking over a house, blooming eternal purple, white and pink blossoms all around them. Growing wilder as the years go on. She was covered in him, he was covered in her. This was how it was always meant to be. “ I could cry I’m so excited for them

“Take me with you, I want to see the look on his face when he realizes what happened,” cheeky as ever.” Good for her! I’m so excited she’s expressing her agency like this!

A Court of Seeds and Sight

Elain x Azriel

Summary: After 6 months apart, Elain sees the way Lucien looks at her new, healthy, body and it reminds her of her mother. The look of disappointment. The look of never being good enough. A reminder that she's spent most of her life letting others make choices for her. she decided in that moment that she's hand enough. While standing up for herself, Lucien suggests they dissolve the bond, letting her go free.

What happens when she's staying at The House of Wind to recover and the male she's dreamed of, the male she's wanted to pick for herself for over 2 years now, is there with medicine and goods to help her feel better?

Warnings: light fatphobia, severing a bond, made-up lore (i had fun making it up) hurt/comfort, the house of wind is my favourite character in this, First kiss, first times, oral sex (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, new bonds snapping into place, lovemaking, rough sex

Word count: 10.6k

She knew he was there the moment he walked into the house.

There was a little tug on the bond, the first she’d felt in 6 months now. Where Lucien lived in the human realm, as well as his visits to the spring court, both places brought him out of the bounds of their bond. She went most of the year without feeling him, having heard from him through her sister and her mate, but Elain hasn’t felt him.

And what a blessing that had been.

She has been working in gardens all over the city, bringing florals to the night court in a way that keeps their traditions in mind. She’s made hanging flower baskets for lamp posts, displays for windows as well as potted trees and bushes on the street. Bat Orchids, black Dahlia, Persian lily, and Dark Dimension. Black and blue and purple roses. Hollyhock and Hellebore. All darker flowers, but the feeling is still the same. She wanted to bring life and beauty to the city that changed everything for her.

When she’s not in the garden covered in dirt… she’s in the kitchen covered in flour. Both activities include help from her favourite fae.

Azriel, ever the traveller, albeit for work, was always bringing her back either a packet of exotic seeds or a new recipe from a cafe or hotel he visited. She’s planted everything, either in her greenhouse outback or in little pots scattered around the house. She wanted them to last, and the best way to do that was to keep them in their desired environments. Food-wise, he mostly brings home recipes for pastries and baked goods. Only a few times has there been a savoury dish, which she made for the whole family for dinner, upon Az’s request.

The tug on the bond pulls her away from her baking, she’s working on lemon pastries. A fluffy, puffed pastry with lemon filling and a delicious icing drizzle on top. She makes them in a variety of flavours, this one happens to be Azriel’s favourite.

“Can you watch these for me? Take them out if I’m not back when the timer goes,” she asks Cerridwen and Nuala. They both nod, knowing where she’s going, as they also feel everything going on in the house, stronger than she ever could.

She makes her way towards the main entrance, wiping her hands off on her apron, she’s only going to greet him because it’s right. It’s a nice thing to do. She doesn’t like him more than an acquaintance, he’s her sister's work partner… he’s important to their court but not to her heart. And she feels awful about that. But she’s heard the stories, she knows that not all bonds are happy. Most of the people she’s met have horror stories about how much their parents hated each other, but the bond needed them together to procreate. Because the cauldron knows what offspring will change the world. Like Rhys himself, his parents were not meant to be, but the world needed him.

She could put up with Lucien, she could tolerate him. She just couldn’t imagine sharing a bed or making children with him. He may be her “soul-mate” but he is not her type. He was not the male she would willingly choose if she had the choice.

“Lucien,” she smiles at him.

He looks her up and down, taking a step back to do so. But it’s not in the usual way he looks at her. He’s taking in how much she’s changed in the half a year he hasn’t seen her.

She’s put on some weight. For the first time in her life, she has had the luxury to do so. Eating well, lounging in the sun, reading in her room and cuddling with her nephew. She’s not working out like her sisters, she doesn’t have a job that requires her to be able to kick ass in a moment's notice. She’s done what she’s always wanted to do; put a little meat on her bones. And she loved it.

“What?” She asks, slightly offended.

“Nothing… I’m just surprised,” he explains, unable to stop staring. “You’ve… changed.”

And it’s not the good kind of staring. His eyes are sharing with her more than she would ever hear leave his mouth. This isn’t the fae he’s been imagining in his daydreams these last few months. His look is one of disappointment, wondering why the Cauldron would match him with someone he’s also not attracted to.

“Need I remind you that I own my body, it’s not for you to ogle or have an opinion about,” she spits, feeling the fire in her blood, having never related to her older sister until this very moment. “I never wanted this stupid bond, I don’t need your opinion of me. I’m happy, I’m healthy and I’m blessed to be able to reach this size, so if you don’t like it… you can fuck right off.”

She honestly can’t believe those words just left her mouth. But she stands a little taller, glad that it did.

He can’t believe it either, “the apple doesn’t fall far in your family, does it? I never even said anything and yet you were ready to pounce on me like a wild animal. Like that human side of you is still perfectly intact.”

“I understand we have to keep things cordial for the court, however, if I never had to see you again it would be a day too late,” she continued without a second thought. “My sister and the high lord need you and your alliance, I understand that perfectly, but I am not a pawn. I am not here to keep the peace. I trust you’re a good man, that you can keep up the alliance even if things between us aren’t good.”

“Then let’s get this retched bond removed then, shall we? The last thing I want is to be shackled to someone who could never even give me the courtesy of pretending to love me,” he spits right back.

“We can do that?” She asks, shocked she never knew it was an option.

“We need a priestess and a few days rest, but it can happen,” he explains. “Do you have a preferred priestess or shall we just walk into the nearest temple and see who’s available?”

“I’d prefer Merrill a the House of Wind.”

Knowing she’s a strict witch of a fae, from Nesta’s stories, there was no one else she wanted to sever this, no one else she wanted to deal with Lucien than her.

—

Rhysand and Feyre winnowed them in, having spoken to both of them about the risks of separating the bond as well as what this would mean for the court. Lucien agreed to stay emissary, his only request was that he stay in another house, paid for by Rhysand when visiting and that they meet there or at the house of Wind for meetings, so he didn’t have to see Elain again. They understood perfectly.

“We’ll be back in an hour,” Feyre explained, a hand on Elain’s arm, wishing her luck. She simply gave her sister a smile in return, showing she was ready, albeit a little nervous.

The happy couple flew off after that, leaving the others to start their quiet walk to the temple inside the mountain.

Merrill meets them at the door, pissed off as usual. She blinks at them, arms crossed, “I have cleared the temple for the next hour while we do this, no matter how much it stings or the emotions you are feeling, the male must be gone when the hour is up. This is a safe space for the priestesses who live here, I am not ruining it for them. No matter who you are.”

“I understand,” Lucien agrees, no real fight left in him.

Inside the temple, they walk past rows and rows of pews towards the front, where a rock is draped with a light blue silk runner and topped with two cups of tea and a book.

“Do you know the risks?” Merrill asks.

They both nod, having learned from Rhys that severing a bond wasn’t a difficult act, it was the after-effects that were the most challenging. They could feel sick, possibly emptying the contents of their stomach and unable to consume more. The headache from losing the bond can be anywhere from an annoyance to mind numbly painful and there is a chance they could slip into a year-long melancholia. Sleep helped, but not by much as the cauldron often retaliated with terrible dreams that would keep them up.

They were both willing to do whatever it took to get rid of this thing.

“Are you absolutely, 100% sure, you want to dissolve the bond?” Merrill asks, staring them down. The stone above her hood shone in the faelight. Glaring at her. This was real, this was serious, and there was no going back.

Elain nods, “Yes, I’m sure.”

“I just want her to be happy,” Lucien shares, solemn and defeated.

“Alright,” Merrill just pushes through. “Join hands. I’m going to say a couple of prayers, then you’re going to drink the tea and you’ll feel it happen. It can be painful, like holding a metal wire as it snaps, it can whip you as it ricochets.”

That made her swallow sharply, she wasn’t sure she was ready to hurt again, but if it meant freedom— then the hurt would be worth it.

Taking Lucien's hand in her own, it feels weird to touch him for the first time since they were bonded by the cauldron. It starts the moment they grip each other's hands, she has no idea what Merrill is saying, it’s in the old language. It sounds beautiful, but she has no idea what it means. She can feel it, there’s a hum that rushes through her and

She’d never experienced an earthquake before, and yet the way her body shook during the prayer had her concerned that it was not just her rumbling. It feels as though the whole world is reacting to the bond being severed. She tries her hardest to keep a brave face, standing on wobbly legs is difficult, however, the shaking stops as soon as the prayer is complete.

Merrill hands them each a cup of tea, allowing them to stop holding hands for a moment. Pulling away doesn’t feel as intense as she expected it to. If him simply leaving a room used to make her heart ache, physically separating should’ve felt more intense. The prayer essentially numbed the feelings. The tea would snap the bond. The priestess continues her chants while they drink, all but chugging the warm liquid down. It tastes very earthy, almost as if she was drinking bark and dirt… she never even asked what it was before they did this.

They both look disgusted as they bring the cups down, staring into each other's eyes, unable to hear the other's thoughts but it was evident. That tea was gross.

They wait for Merrill to finish her prayer and then it happens.

The snap isn’t as intense as she expected. It feels like walking through the woods and tripping over a root. It pulls from the earth and breaks against the ankle, leaving a welt, but nothing more. No sprain, no twist, just a slight ache. She’s able to walk away from it.

She looks at Lucien once more and there’s nothing there. Her heart doesn’t flutter, her mind doesn’t race… she simply looks at him the way she would look at a stranger on the streets. He’s just there.

“How do you feel?” Merrill asks.

“Fine,” Elain answers while Lucien bows his head.

“Terrible,” he whispers. He reached up to hold his temples, “what was that?”

“Olive tree bark tea,” she explains. “Olive trees are a distant cousin to ash trees. it’s not as potent or deadly, it gets the job done.”

“Can I leave now?” Lucien asks, turning away from them the moment Merrill starts to hum in agreement.

She doesn’t hurt at all. Her heart is fine, her head is silent… she’s just empty.

“Thank you, Merrill,” she gives the priestess a small smile. “I appreciate you taking time out of your day for this. Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

“I’ve heard rumours that your family recovered the harp. In my previous research, I was developing a theory that there are multiple universes stacked on top of one another, upwards of 26 universes, actually. I heard the harp has 26 strings. I would like to study it. Can you put in a good word with the High Lord and Lady for me?”

She nods, “I’ll see what I can do. That sounds very interesting, I’m sure they’d want to know more about these other universes as well.”

“Be well, I’m doing the dusk service tonight if you need anything, you’re welcome to join us,” Merrill shares a rare smile and then she leaves, heading off into the back rooms of the temple.

Elain starts the trek back to the balcony, where she’s meant to meet Feyre for her ride back to the river house. Lucien is staying at the townhouse, he’ll be leaving with Rhys first. She’s given him more than enough time to leave by now. But she doesn’t want to. Leave that is.

She sighs, resting a hand against the wall, “Would you be alright if I stayed here for the time being?” She asks the house.

In response, the lights flicker down the hallway, telling her to follow. She follows their lead, all the way to the bedroom she used to occupy when she first arrived in Velaris. Only it’s different, it’s brighter. There are plants and flowers on the tables, hanging from the veiling and vines wrapped around the 4 poles of her bed. Speaking of, the sheets are a beautiful pink, soft silk and topped with the fluffiest pillows. There’s a book on the bed, beside a tray of chocolates and a bottle of her favourite wine.

“Oh, I love you,” she swoons, holding her hand over her heart. “This is the most beautiful spot to recover. You are so wonderful to us.”

The house simply sent a warm breeze her way, wrapping around her face and shoulders as if to hug her.

Within seconds, she can hear footsteps approaching her room and she knows it’s her younger sister by the way she floats down the hall. She stops at the open door and smiles, “You’re staying here, correct?”

She nods, “how’d you—

“You dislike nothing more than feeling like a burden, here you can recover alone with the help of the house,” Feyre smiles, knowing her too well. “I packed you a few outfits, mostly sleepwear because I don’t expect you to leave the bed for a while. I will be here in 3 days, waiting in the entryway around mid-day, if you’re there I’ll bring you home. If not, I’ll give you another 3 days. Send word if you need me.”

“Thank you,” she reaches out to take the suitcase but the house handles it for her. Taking it with its magic, the house puts everything away and sets out a fresh set of sleepwear on the bed as the bath starts to run in the other room.

“You’re in very good hands,” Feyre approves. “I love you, and I’m proud of you, I hope you know that.”

“I know,” she smiles back. “I’ll see you soon.”

Once Feyre is gone, she closes her bedroom door and heads right to the bathroom. Her book, chocolate and wine are now on a little side table near the bath. The bath smells of roses and jasmine, the bubbles float over the room as they escape the tub, the lights are dimmed, and everything is perfect.

She strips, gets into the bath and just sighs. “I expected to feel awful,” she shares. “I just feel free.”

Her glass is filled with wine then as if the house is telling her to just lay back and enjoy the freedom. So she listens, she takes the wine in one hand, the book in her other, her eyes raking over the summary.

It’s a romance, one she knows that either the house loves or Nesta does, either way, it’ll be raunchy and delicious. The main character is a florist, she has just escaped a terrible relationship with a man who didn’t appreciate her. Thinking she’ll be alone for the rest of her life, something unexpected blooms with the man who delivers her orders once a week. She hums, it sounds quite interesting, so she flips to the first page, takes a sip of her wine and settles into freedom.

—

Before she knew it, the bubbles and wine were gone, and the bath water was still warm thanks to the house, as she reached the middle of her book. Hours pass, her body is pruned from the water and limp from how relaxed she’s become. She sighs, “Can I have a bookmark?” She asks The House.

On the table by her empty wine glass, a clear, acrylic rectangle with dried flowers trapped inside appears. Around the flowers are gold flakes, her name is engraved into it with gold. It’s beautiful. “Thank you.”

She gets out of the tub, and dries off with a beautifully fluffy towel only to walk naked back into her room to don her silky underclothes and slip into bed. “May I please have some soup… something creamy and hearty?”

Then, a beautiful creamy soup appears on a tray on her bed. She stirs her spoon around, noticing the bits of broccoli, shredded carrot and cheese and cubed chunks of potatoes. All her favourites. And then she notices the bowl, it’s a crusty sphere of bread hollowed out to hold the soup. “Thank you, this is exactly what I wanted.”

She devours the soup, peels apart the bread bowl and savours the remnants of the creamy soup on the crunchy bread. It’s life-changing, she feels full and warm, happier than she has felt in a while. A little drunk from that whole bottle of wine, however, the bread offsets it. The tray disappears once she is done, and her book reappears on the bed. Candles are lit around the room, the curtains are still open to let in the last of the daylight while the faelight over her bed brightens just enough for her to read.

She’s another 3 chapters in when there is a knock at the door.

“Come in?” She says, unsure who would be home. Nesta and Cassian are in Illyria training younglings for the next week.

The door opens slowly and quietly, the shadows bellow at his feet and she knows instantly. Her best friend has come to check on her.

“Az,” she smiles. “I didn’t know you were back tonight?”

He smiles right back at her, “I went to the river house, I left the new seeds I found in the greenhouse. Nuala told me where you were…”

“I’m okay,” she assures. “It didn’t hurt. Did you know they used olive tree bark in a tea to do it? Apparently, it's in the ash family, it’s not enough to maim but it did the trick.”

“I did not,” he looks instantly worried. “I did, however, bring you something…”

“Come in,” she beckons him in closer. Closing her book and resting it on the bed, she pulls her sheets up over her chest to keep her modesty and watches as he sits on the edge near the end, resting against the post.

“I went to see Madja,” he explains, pulling a few things out of the inside pockets of his jacket. “This is the same headache powder you gifted me, well, a new one, but the same kind. And these are ginger candies, they’ll help with any nausea you may feel. Have you eaten?”

She nods, “The House made me some lovely soup.”

“Good,” he nods, looking down at the bottles in his hands with a smile. “I’m going to be sleeping here tonight, you know where my room is?”

“Just above mine,” she points upstairs.

“Exactly… ask the house to make my lights flicker 3 times and I’ll know you need me, you don’t need to leave the bed if you don’t wish to,” he explains. “I’ll leave these here. You should get some rest.”

“Thank you, Azriel, I really appreciate you.”

His smile is remarkable, “this is what friends are for.”

His shadows leave the room first, leaving him to place the bottles on her night table and saunter off after them. As soon as the door is closed again, she waits to hear him retreat upstairs but it’s impossible. He’s so quiet, he stalks around like a cat on the prowl no matter where he is. So after enough time has passed, when she knows she’s alone again, she sighs. “He’s so… wonderful.”

The house blows a wind that shuffles the pages of her book to what she expects is a random page, only it’s not. The love interest brings the main character flowers she doesn’t sell in her shop, something exotic and new just for her to behold. For no reason other than he wishes to see her smile. And suddenly she gets it, why the house picked this book for her out of the entire library both private and the extensive one below them.

“There is such a remarkable light cast upon him,” she swoons. “It’s no wonder he’s followed by shadows.”

A second book appears on her bed.

‘Bonds, Mates and Why The Cauldron Fates Them.’

She’s quick to pick it up, flipping towards the first page, she starts to read as fast as she can absorb the knowledge. She should’ve looked for a book like this long ago, should’ve asked questions about bonds and how they come to be and how they dissolve. She always just assumed it would be there until one of them died… she never wished that upon him, never once. She just assumed that was how it would end.

Turns out, the cauldron makes such bonds either because it knows the union will be fruitful, that the children they’d bring to this world will be of great power or importance. Children like Rhysand, he was born to be a leader while his parents could barely stand each other. Meanwhile, Cassian’s father stepped out on his bond mate, doing the foulest thing a male could do to a woman and creating one of the most important warriors to grace the world in the last 5 centuries.

The bonds aren’t set in stone, while they can be wonderful and loving and everything two faes could ever dream of… they could also be awful. Like Lucien’s own mother and father. Beron is an awful man, controlling and mean, it’s unknown if he’s abusive but from the stories told. The atrocities that he’s committed, it’s not a far stretch to consider that he hurts her. The Lady of the Autumn court is strong, she’s stayed put and dealt with what the cauldron forced upon her— even in those 10 years she was with the Lord from the Day court. She stayed, she raised her children and she’ll be free when Beron dies.

Maybe that’s why Lucien let her go. Why he would suggest dissolving the bond rather than dealing with it for the rest of time? Sure, he was already close to 500 years old, he could live to be 500 more and he was not going to shackle her to himself the way his father did to his mother. She needed to find a way to thank him. Maybe in a century when they got over this, she’d send him a fruit basket. Or a new fur throw.

The more she read, the more she understood.

It’s not unheard of for someone to have 2 bonds in their lifetime.

After the death of the first mate, a second bond can snap into place. It’s happened to young widows and widowers alike, bringing them a second chance at happiness for the rest of their time here. Other situations in which a bonded couple gets bonded to a 3rd fae are more unlikely, but it still happens. Polyamorous bonds are rare to come by, seen only once or twice in a millennia, they can include upwards of 5 fae, at least in recorded history. She couldn’t even imagine how that would work.

There was still hope for both herself and Lucien. He could get another bond, he could find his true soulmate out there… or he could just love someone and be loved the way he deserves to be loved without a bond. It’s not the end all be all. Maybe he’s meant to be with Vessa? Or Vessa and Jurian… they all live together most of the year, and he loves them quite a lot. Anything could happen now that he’s also free.

Bonds snapping into place at first sight is common, that’s what happened with herself and Lucien. Others exist your entire life and you don’t know until the snap reverberates through you, like what happened with Feyre and Rhysand. He knew it longer, he could always feel her out there, it wasn’t until she started to fall in love with him that she began to understand what it was. That the bond was meant to be there. They were meant to be.

Nesta and Cassian had a similar situation, the bond lingered from their first meeting and became stronger on the battlefield when she called after him. Grew more powerful after that first kiss when he thought he was dying… it wasn’t until she accepted it, until she announced with her whole being that she loved him, that it snapped into place for good.

Azriel’s never had a bond. He loved Morrigan for centuries to no avail. He slept with countless fae… he’s gotten close to Elain herself, so close she thought he would kiss her. So close she could smell how much he wanted her. Only for something, or someone, to scare him off.

Rhysand didn’t often go into her mind, it was typically Feyre who did. Often to share gossip or wish her goodnight from the other side of the river house. But Rhys was in Azriel and Cassian’s mind often. Barking orders, sharing jokes and simply catching up. He loved his brothers, but he loved his court more. She suspects that’s why he was so… so official while speaking to her and Lucien this afternoon. He was willing to do anything to keep Lucien in their good graces, to keep him as emissary.

What wouldn’t he do?

She puts the book down, breathing heavily as it all hits her. He only called their almost kiss a ‘mistake’ that day because Rhysand was in his mind, telling him to back off, so that he didn’t have to pick between Shadowsinger and Emissary when the fight for her hand officially broke out. Because he would always pick his brother, he just didn’t want to have to.

“How long after breaking a bond can another emerge?” She asks, watching as the house flips the pages of the book to the near end. The light shines on a specific paragraph more than the others and she knows she has her answer.

Within moments of a mate's death, a new bond could snap into place. It’s happened in recorded history a handful of times, usually during war. A male would pass and his female, working in the infirmary, bonds to a wounded soldier. A female passes from sickness and her mate, standing beside her lifelong friend at the funeral, bonds to the only person who loved her as much as he did. Sometimes the second bond is stronger than the first, sometimes it’s the more important bond. The first mate was to teach a lesson, the second was for a lifetime of happiness.

She feels her heart in her throat, her breathing still heavy, her thoughts racing to all the possibilities. Was this why she was so drawn to Azriel? Why she never bonded with anyone in all his years? Why it didn’t hurt when the tether snapped on her end, unlike Lucien's instant pain?

Before she can even register it, she’s up and moving, out of the room and down the hall. Up the stairs and around the corner. The house makes the lights flicker, drawing Azriel out of his room in an instant, and having them meet in the hallway.

She keeps walking until they’re millimetres apart. She places her hand on his chest and looks up into his dark and stormy eyes. “Tell me the truth.”

“About?”

“Why was it a mistake?”

“You know,” he breathes. “The seer always knows.”

She just smirks, “I will not talk down about your high lord… but sometimes he’s a royal pain in my ass.”

He just smirks, “he spent centuries perfecting that quality.”

She lets out another sigh, being this close to him just feels so right. Like there’s a magnet pulling her towards him. “Please tell me you feel it too? I don’t want to skirt around it for months like my sisters did.”

“I’ve felt it for almost 3 long years now,” he whispers, his voice so low it reverberates through her, going right to her core.

“Tell me about it?” She requests, “I want to know your mind, I want to know how you think. Walk me through it.”

He picks her up then, making her squeal slightly, “I will tell you in the comfort of your bed, where you should be.”

Around the corner, down the stairs, through her hallway and into her bedroom. The books have been removed from the sheets, and more candles have been lit while the lights have been dimmed down low. He places her on her bed, waiting for her to pick a side before getting in himself, “where should I start?”

“What you felt when we first met?”

“I thought you were so strikingly beautiful when I entered your house the first time,” he explains. “Like Cassian, I already knew I would do anything for Feyre’s family, but the way I would kill for you… that scared me. I hadn’t felt so strongly about a female in— maybe ever? I loved Morrigan, I thought she was beautiful. She is beautiful. But you, you changed everything about how I feel. I was noticing the beauty in everything after you, I was stopping to sniff flowers and following scents on the street just to bring you a baked good just so I could see the joy on your face. There is nothing I love more than seeing joy on your face.”

She blushes hard, “I feel the same about you. Making the recipes you bring me, showing you how the seeds have bloomed into flowers, those are the best moments of my life.”

“Even in the worst moments of my life, all I could think of was you,” he whispers again, almost afraid to admit that. “When you were taken, everyone warned me I might not make it back. They thought it was a suicide mission… I knew I would get you back, if not for me then for your sisters.”

“I have never experienced Rage like I did during the war,” she shares. “Kicking that beast off you, feeling your blood on me, it scared me. what I could do if you died.”

“I think I’m pretty indestructible now,” he teases. “I’m not going anywhere on you.”

“Until you have another accident in the middle of nowhere,” she pushes back. “I’m never going to ask you to not be the spymaster, but I will ask that you always, always make it home to me.”

“Home?” He asks as if he wants to know where that is.

“we could get a little tent and live in the woods for the rest of our lives and it would still be a home because you’re there beside me,” she assures him. “But I was thinking… I love the river house. I love my friends and the kitchen and my garden. I’d like to be there every day, no matter where we end up living together.”

“I can ask Rhys if I can build a home on the property, a little 2-story house, just big enough for us, so you can walk over there every day,” he offers. “I have more than enough funds to build a castle, too, if that’s what you prefer.”

She just smiles, “We can live in the townhouse, or maybe even the house of mist until it’s ready… I have a feeling if the bond snaps into place, we’re going to be just as bad, if not worse than the others.”

He laughs, that beautiful hearty laugh she doesn’t get to hear often. Not unless they’re alone or everyone is drunk… before he can reply she sighs, “I love you. I really do.”

A blush creeps up his face, “I love you. More than I can explain, I love you in ways I never thought possible for me.”

“It’s possible and it’s happening,” she whispers, moving in closer to him. She cups his cheek, staring into his eyes. “I’m just so glad it’s me.”

“Me too,” he whispers back, a thickness in his throat that lets her know there are more emotions buried behind his stern exterior. “Can I ask… can I ask what happened that made today of all days, the day that you decided to leave him?”

“He looked at me… and I saw that same look my mother used to have. You see, I never had the privilege of being my own person, growing up. I had to stay skinny, I had my eyebrows plucked and my hair had to be long and I wasn’t allowed in the garden because pretty girls don’t get dirty. When she died, I had 3 years of peace. I didn’t go to as many balls, I wasn’t interacting with the princes and dukes she wanted to marry me off to. It was just me. And I put on weight. Just a little, enough to not see my ribs and round out my face. But it was a weight that I chose to gain. It kept me warm, I liked filling out my dresses. And then we lost all our money and I went back to starving.”

She watches his face as he catches on, he looks her over, “You’re so healthy now, you’ve just made yourself even more beautiful, somehow. As if that was even possible?”

She gives him a little smile. “I know, and not in a conceited way. This is how I prefer to look. I like having strong arms from carrying around bags of soil and heavy cement planter boxes. I like having thick thighs and a tummy and I like that my cheekbones aren’t as striking anymore. I love looking in the mirror and seeing myself now. Because I got to make the choice to look like this. I get to wake up every day and make choices for myself.”

“And the bond, it wasn’t your choice.”

She shakes her head, “it reminded me of my mother. She always wanted me to marry well. And what’s better than a male who’s the heir to not one throne, but 2?”

He sighs, “I wanted to tell you there were more choices out there. That you didn’t have to suffer through it.”

“I have words for Rhys when I get back,” she assures him. “He watched not only his mother but Morrigan, get pawned off to men who didn’t love them. He’s seen the hurt first hand and yet he wanted me to stay with him, to endure a loveless life, simply so He could have a better connection with the human queen. I don’t know if he didn’t realize it, or he's so used to thinking of the greater good that my happiness wasn’t on his radar, but it hurt. It hurt to see both my sisters so happy in bonds they chose, with males who love them, while I didn’t.”

“I snapped at him that night, after our almost kiss. I never thought it was fair that there are 3 of you and 3 of us and yet only two from each family got to be happy.”

“I’ve felt that too,” she admits. “I never wanted to try and make it work with Lucien. I was just going to be cordial with him until the time came when I had to have his babies or… and I never wished for this, but I knew he’d pass away at some point and I’d be free to love someone for real.”

Before Az can even validate her feelings, she continues. “And then he showed up today, I felt his presence and I went out to greet him and he looked me up and down the same way my mother would. I could read it in his face that I was no longer the female he dreamed about, I wasn’t the same fae he envisioned all these months he was away. And something snapped in me. That fire that lives in both my sisters just spewed out and I lost it on him.”

Az smiles, “yeah? I heard the house almost shook.”

She shakes her head with a smile, loving when he teases her. “In that moment, I only thought about myself. For the first time in my life, no one was standing in front of me to protect me or talk for me or anything. For the first time in my life, the words I needed came to me and I said them. I didn’t want him. I had never wanted him. I was put into this body against my will, I was bonded to him against my will and I was suffering for it… and I thought about all those seeds you brought me. How they were never meant to be here, most of them have never been in the night court, even clipped in a bouquet. But I managed to grow them, give them life, feed them, protect them and help them flourish. I wanted to flourish, too. So the second he said we should get the bond dissolved, I jumped on it. I had no idea it was a possibility, either it was kept a secret from me or it just hasn’t been done in so long that no one thought to mention it— either way, I wanted it. We did it. And now, I’m free.”

“And you always will be free,” Az assures. “Even if we don’t bond, even if this pull that we feel for each other is just love… I shouldn’t say just. Love is so powerful on its own. There are millions of couples in this land who love each other without a bond. I want to love you for the rest of my life, in whatever capacity you want from me.”

“I would enjoy being Mrs. Shadowsinger,” she teases, making him laugh as he pulls her in close. She tucks her face into his neck and breathes him in, “If we don’t have a bond, I still would like to have a huge, disgustingly expensive wedding. I want everyone in the world to know I picked you. That it was my choice to pick you, it was my choice to let my heart keep loving you the way it desired to.”

He soothes his hands down her back, kissing the top of her head. “It feels like a dream… hearing you say all these things.”

She pinches him, making him roar as he slightly shoves her away. Elain giggles, so abundantly happy it’s pouring out of her. “See, you’re awake.”

“And you’re a menace,” he retorts.

She pushes him so he’s flat on his back and straddles his hips, looking down at him, “I have dreamed about teasing you like this for years now. Making you blush, reminding you how loved you are, making you feel so happy that your shadows turn pink.”

He laughs, “We could try.”

“I want to kiss every part of you. I want to know every scar and freckle and tattoo. I want to know your body as well as I know my own… but we can’t tonight.”

He understands, “Are you feeling okay? Headache or nausea? Are you tired?”

She shakes her head, “I haven’t taken the contraceptive tea since I was a human… since I gave my maidenhood to my previous betrothed.”

He takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, “And you haven’t bled since becoming fae?”

She shakes her head, “I never really had them as a human either. Madja said that was likely because I was so underweight, now that I’m healthy, it should happen in a few months.”

He nods, “so tomorrow, or the next day, when you’re feeling up to it, we’ll go to the apothecary and get what you need.”

“Aren't they open all night?” She teases, making him smirk. “I’m kidding, we can go tomorrow.”

Just then, a steaming cup of tea pops up on her night table. “Oh, mother?” Elain stares at it and then back at him. “Is that—“A warm breeze brushes past her, a silent yes from the house. “Is it from Nesta’s collection?” Another breeze. “How fast does it take effect?”

A book drops on the bed, turned to a page that starts with the world ‘instantaneously.’

“She is amazing,” Azriel compliments.

“My sister?”

“No– well yeah, but,” he laughs. “I mean The House.”

“How do you know they’re a she?”

“The way they take care of us, the motherly touch, the love… no male soul could compare.”

The house takes the book back, leaving a chocolate that Elain knows to be his favourite in its wake.

“Do you have a name?” Elain asks, now sitting against the headboard with the tea in her hands, “I always want to thank you, but I don’t know your name.”

Another book appears on the bed, the title of the book is ‘Nameless.’ It’s a book about creatures who’ve lived on this earth so long that memory fails to recall their names.

“So take some time, look through all the books in this house and pick a name that suits you. You have the choice now,” Elain explains. “Pick a name and we’ll make sure everyone refers to you as such.”

More candles are lit around her room, and rose petals are on her bed and around it. The curtains are drawn, the fire roars in the corner fireplace… and they’re suddenly alone.

Elain chugs her tea, drinking down every single last drop, he sighs once it’s gone and passes the cup to Az to place back on the night table. “I’m nervous.”

“Me too,” he agrees. “But… I’m more nervous for a bond than the lack of one.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know how to ask for a week off,” he teases.

“Well… we could just stay here, have the house lock the doors knowing Rhys can’t winnow in, we just don’t have to leave for a week.”

His eyes get darker as he crawls over her, resting between her legs, holding himself up with those deliciously strong arms of his, he looks like a feral animal about to pounce. “I like the way you think.”

“Go easy on me?” She whispers, visibly nervous now. “I’m practically a virgin again, it’s been so long.”

“Don’t worry,” he assures, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek and then her nose. Her eyes close and he takes a moment to kiss both eyelids. “I’m going to treat you so well, my love.”

She blushes, “are you going to kiss me for real, or what?”

He balances on one arm, cupping her face gently, he watches her close her eyes as he brushes his nose against hers. She feels as if time stops, she’s frozen in anticipation for what feels like forever until his lips are on her.

It’s then that the magnetic pull becomes something more. Stars explode behind her eyes, she wraps her arms around him so tight, pulling him flush against her body as if she can’t get him close enough. Their souls become one, she is his and he is hers.

He wraps his arm under her, pulling her in just as close. Her legs wrap around his hips, pressing his groin flush against her heat. His lips part, introducing her to his tongue, she hums into his mouth, not yet confident enough to moan… his hand slips down from her cheek, over her breast, noticing the hardened peaks of her nipples. He palms them, trying to entice more noise out of her.

She’s heard from her sisters just how sensitive the Illyrian wings are, so she reaches up, running her fingers over the silky membrane as seductively as possible, making him shiver… he grinds against her, hard in his sleep pants. That’s what makes her moan against him. Knowing she’s contributing to his pleasure, that he wants her just as bad as she wants him.

She brushes over his wing again just as he pinches her nipple between two fingers, moaning in tandem this time. He kisses the side of her mouth, along her jaw and down her neck, leaving her to pant as she stares at the ceiling. This is real. This is happening. She has Azriel in her bed, soon to be inside her, too. Her whole body heats up at the thought, wetness pools between her legs and within moments, Azriel’s kisses become nips and sucks, his tongue and teeth on her neck, leaving marks as he feels down her sides towards her hips and pulls her up against his hardened cock once more. He grinds against her, slow yet forceful, showing her exactly what is to come.

“Az,” she whines, face pink as her sheets, she can’t believe how needy she feels and so fast. “Please? Touch me, please? I need you. I need to feel you. It’s been too long.”

He smiles against her, fiddling with the hem of her sleep shirt, “can I take this off you?”

“Gods, yes!”

He sits up on his knees, pulling her forward, he slips the top off of her and tosses it to the floor. She lays back down and she watches his eyes rake over her makeup upper half, “sweet mother…”

“Your turn,” she breathes. He looks at her confused so she sits back up, gripping his shirt in her hands. “I want to see you.”

He simply grips the front of it and pulls it, tearing it off his back, she hears the sound of the seams ripping and the cotton tearing before the fabric is chucked on the floor beside her shirt. She presses her hand to his bare chest instead, the tips of her slightly chilled fingers running over his heated abs, down towards the tuft of hair leading down and disappearing under his pants. “All of you,” she adds.

“You first,” he interjects, getting her to lay back once more, she lifts her hips as he starts to tug at her bottoms, freeing her from the fabric.

He’s quick to kiss her stomach, spreading her legs before she can make him take his own pants off to make things even. He kisses her all the way down, over her mound towards her hip and then the crease where her leg meets lip. Breathing her in, his eyes roll back in his skull, “fuck,” he groans. “Can I? Please?”

She nods as if her head is on a spring, dying to experience this. She’s read about it, dreamed about it… she all but pushes her hips against his face as he drags his tongue along her sex. She moans, back arching off the mattress, she grips her breast and allows him to continue however he sees fit.

He kisses her most sensitive spot, sucking on it gently before lapping up her wetness, sticking his tongue deep inside of her to gather it all up. His nose bumps her clit as his shadows come up to play with her. Black swirling smoke circles around her breasts like mini tornadoes, playing with the hardened peaks of her nipples, she drops her hands to her sides, gripping the sheets for dear life as she feels him everywhere.

In the 2 years she’s been left with just her own hand and imagination, it’s never been this easy for her to feel her climax approaching. It usually took a while, multiple imaginations, moving positions, adding more fingers… but Az, tongue deep inside of her for this short amount of time, has caught her stomach aflame. The heat spreads through her whole body, the blood in her veins feeling like molten iron on a mission. She reaches out for his hair, holding on tight as her climax rips through her. She’d never been so loud in her life, letting go, feeling it all so intensely, she didn’t even care to try and be embarrassed, not when she looked down between her legs to see that beautiful smirk on his face, the shadows clearing out once again.

“Holy fuck?” She says between gasps for air, feeling as though she just ran up all 10,000 steps to this house.

He just laughs, deep and lustful, “I didn’t know that word was in your vocabulary.”

“It’s reserved for moments like this,” she teases right back. “When I’ve been thoroughly fucked by the best lover in the world.”

“Don’t let your sisters hear that, I can’t imagine the fight that would break out trying to compare us all,” he teases, returning to his knees. His cock hard as a rock in his pants, he starts to push the fabric down, freeing the monster.

“Please, don’t mention my sisters when you’re that hard,” she groans. “Gods… I’m going to be impaled on that thing.”

He laughs again, maneuvering out of his pants, they end up on the floor with everything else. He gets as close to her as possible, grips his cock and rests it over her, allowing her to see just how deep he would be able to get. A shiver runs down her spine, “You really do have the biggest wingspan…”

“Hey, don’t talk about my brothers when my cock is on you,” he says through a smile, clearly just saying it to even the score.

She just shakes her head, laying back, still worn out from that first orgasm, “Mother almighty, please make it fit.”

“It’ll fit, especially now that you’re nice and relaxed. That’s the key part, you stretch better if you’re relaxed,” he explains, pulling back. “It might be easier if you’re on top, too.”

“and that doesn’t hurt your wings at all, laying on your back?” She worries, sitting up as well.

He shakes his head, “No, they’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” she smiles, reaching up to take his face in her hands, she pulls him in for another kiss. Missing the way his lips feel against her own, tasting herself, she knows it from her own curiosity, she hums into his mouth.

Her hands slide down his chest, over the trail of hair leading to his cock. She grips it at the base, letting him bite her lip in surprise before she starts to stroke him. She pulls away enough to look into his eyes, “what’s more sensitive?” She runs her thumb over the head, gathering the precum that’s been leaking since she had her legs wrapped around him. “This or your wings?”

“I don’t know,” he breathes out, deep and dark, his eyes going basically all black, blown out with lust for her. “The only being who’s ever touched my wings is the healer…”

“Well then, I have some experiments to do later,” she assures, letting go of his cock before taking him too far. “Lay back for me?”

He nods, listening to his lady.

Resting his head against the pillows, his cock laying back against his stomach… those big majestic wings spread and the tips hanging over the edges of her bed. She marvels over him. Taking in the sight, she sighs, “You’re more beautiful than I ever dreamed.”

He blushes slightly, “I’m glad you think so.”

“By the time I’m done with you,” she says, hiking a leg over him, resting her heat over his cock. “You’re going to believe me when I say you’re beautiful. Handsome,” she leans over him, cupping his face before pushing his hair back, “everything I’ve ever wanted and needed wrapped up in one. You are going to feel so loved.”

“I believe you,” he whispers back, unable to find his full voice in his surprise.

She hovers slightly, gripping his cock once more, “ready?”

He nods, “are you?”

She just smirks as she angles him towards her entrance and begins to sit down. The stretch is glorious, she takes him inch by inch, forgetting how to breathe the deeper he goes, she rests both her hands on his abs and stares at him, mouth agape. She lets out an exasperated breath, “holy gods…”

“Take as much time as you need to adjust,” he assures her it's okay, biting his lip. She can tell he wants to thrust, he wants to take advantage of the tight, wet heat wrapped around him currently.

She waits half a minute, the longest half-minute of his life, and then starts to pull back. His hands find her hips, helping her as she pulls off his cock an inch, barely, and grinds back down. Finding her own rhythm, he simply guides her hips alongside her own movements, “That’s it, sweet fuck, you feel so good.”

“You’re one to talk,” she grips her breast again, head tipping back as she rides him, “this is glorious… but I need more.”

“Tell me,” he growls. “Tell me what you need and I’ll be it for you. Forever.”

“I need–” she stops to bite back a slight moan, still riding him to the best of her ability. “I want you to fuck me, I can’t— I want to lay back and let you have your way with me.”

“Okay,” he agrees, sitting up slowly, he wraps his arms around her and maneuvers himself onto his knees without ever pulling out of her. Her arms were quick to wrap around his shoulders, holding on tight as he moved them. He rests her back, her head at the foot of the bed, still wrapped around her, he looks into her eyes, “How hard?”

Her hands trail down his shoulders, admiring his tattoos. She looks down at his chest, down to where they’re connected, and then back up to his eyes, “slow at first… I want to savour this. Making love to the man of my dreams for the first time. Our first time.”

He pulls out ever so slowly, more than she was able to on top of him. She feels him leave, the emptiness left in his wake… and then he pushes back in. Starts to explode behind her closed eyes, her head once again thrown back. She grips his arms tighter as he does it again and again, hitting a spot inside of her that she never knew existed. He’s so deep, filling her perfectly, she can’t believe any of this is real.

“Az,” she gasps his name as he picks up the pace, leaning in, he tucks his head into the crook of her neck and covers her in kisses, sucking gently, afraid to leave any marks, even though she heals fast and has 3 days of uninterrupted peace lined up.

She doesn’t hold anything back, moaning as loud as she wants, running her nails over his shoulders and back hard enough to draw blood. It feels too good to care, she’ll put some cream on him later… but for right now, she lives in this euphoria and doesn’t give a fuck about anything else. It’s just her and Az and two impending orgasms that might bring the mountain down.

There’s a hammering in her chest, a pang that contracts and expands with each thrust. It doesn’t feel like her heart, it’s not her lungs, either. Sure, she’s breathing heavily the faster he goes, but this is entirely different. This is… this is 10 million times more intense than when he tumbled from the cauldron and looked at Lucien the first time. This is a bond that she knew was there, buried deep inside of her, waiting to be awoken when the time was right.

She’s so close, she’s right there, but she needs more. She wants to reach between them and rub herself but she also wants to keep holding him this close, “Az, can— holy fuck, can you,” she starts to ask him for help, too overthrown by passion. “Shadows, down there,” she simplifies it.

He nods against her. “Yeah,” he breathes, hot and heavy under her ear.

She doesn’t see them, but there’s a presence between them, the same twisting, tingling feeling dances around her clit as it had her nipples. Ghosting over her, adding just enough pressure to push her to where she wants to be, she pulls his face out of her neck and slams her lips against his. Breathing him in, becoming one.

While her bond with Lucien was described as a metal wire, cold and formed against her will… the feeling of this new bond coming into existence is so much brighter. Lighter, full of life, love and happiness. It drapes over them like ivy and wisteria taking over a house, blooming eternal purple, white and pink blossoms all around them. Growing wilder as the years go on. She was covered in him, he was covered in her. This was how it was always meant to be.

He pulls back just enough to rest their foreheads together, breathing against one another now, he holds her tighter, “Mine.”

“Yours,” she agrees. Letting another few thrusts pass before she adds, “And you’re mine.”

“Yours,” he whispers. “Forever.”

“Forever,” she repeats as the feeling returns.

Heat builds and builds, swirling in her gut, mimicking the shadows she’s engulfed in. Wrapping her arms around him tighter, she brushes over his wing, making him whine. She does it again, pushing him to the edge alongside her. He’ll catch them both when they fall. Her stomach drops, her eyes squeeze shut, her body goes limp as pleasure pulses through her with a high-pitched, repeated moan as she rides it out.

And he’s gone then too, filling her up, she feels his cock twitch with each rope of release, only elongating her own orgasm. It’s everything she’s ever wanted, him, all of him, inside of her, making her his for life, and hopefully in whatever comes after.

He slumps against her, she can take his weight just fine, it actually feels wonderful. Crushed by his safety, his big delicious body pressed to her own. Wrapped around each other so tight they’re like a ribbon tied in a knot. Breathing heavily as they come down, that pang in her chest still strumming away.

He kisses her cheek, over to her ear, along her jaw and down her neck, she wonders if he’s feeling it too. “Az?” Hesitation in her voice.

“I know,” he whispers. “It happened for me too.”

She holds him even tighter somehow, tears slipping past her eyes as she lets out a sob. Happier than she could ever imagine being. He struggles to push out of her grip, holding himself up to look at her with genuine fear in his eyes, she just shakes her head, “I’m fine, I’m… I’m so happy.”

Tears blur his own vision, she watches one of them slip out, roll down his cheek and land on her chin. She just cups his face, brushing off the wetness. “You’re everything to me, everything and then some. You’re my favourite friend, my lover, my confidant. My test dummy, my best reviewer, supplier of my seeds—

“In more ways than one now,” he jokes, having to make it funny before he really sobbed.

She laughs too, “You make the world so much brighter for me.”

“Really?”

She nods, “you are the sunshine to my flower, you make me flourish and grow and love being alive… your light is so bright, of course, you have a shadow.”

By the look on his face, he never ever thought of it like that. “Thank you,” he lowers his head, brushing their noses together, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

The kiss they share is… everything. Full of love and respect and wanting. Lust and need and friendship and yearning. Every emotion at once, so strong, it knocks the wind out of both of them, causing them to pull away enough to breathe, mouth to mouth. Sharing their souls, trading them back and forth, learning them more intimately than ever before.

“Mine,” he whispers again.

“Mine,” she reminds him, owning him just as much as he owns her.

A second wave washes over them, another round of need. He’s not as gentle this time and she’s perfectly okay with it. Flipping onto her stomach, he absolutely rails her, fingers digging into her hips while she screams into the mattress.

He’s definitely going to need that week off.

—

When things settle a bit, when there’s nothing left to come out of him and she’s barely able to stop her legs from shaking, the house drops two of their favourite danishes on the bed. Allowing them to make it real, to accept the bond before anyone in their lives can make an opinion of it.

He takes one, she takes the other, and like a couple on their wedding day, they bring it to each other's lips, arms crossed, and they feed one another. The beating in her chest steadies out, becoming one with her heartbeat as she swallows the pastry down. Her heart and his beat the same, sharing a rhythm, bonded to each other, forever.

She just smiles at him, “It’s real now.”

“It always has been,” he assures. “I knew from the moment I met you that this was going to be the outcome, and I would’ve waited 500 more years for it to happen.”

“Well, now we get those 500 years to be happily in love,” she adds, face dropping a bit, “Forever will never be long enough.”

“No it won’t,” he agrees, putting the pastry down and cupping her face again. “Let's make it count.”

She nods, “you know… I still want a big wedding.”

He laughs, “I do too. I want everyone and their mother to know you chose me.”

“And I would choose you again, over and over, in every universe. Always.”

He steals another kiss, having to do something to stop himself from crying. It’s a dream come true for both of them.

“Of course, the seer’s dream would come true,” he whispers against her. “I’m just blessed to have been the dream.”

“Hopefully we can make them all come true,” she teases, smirk on her face. “I’ve had some… rather colourful dreams about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, we’ll have to explore them all this week.”

“I’ll fly down and tell him I’m not available this week, the second the sun comes up,” he assures.

“Take me with you, I want to see the look on his face when he realizes what happened,” cheeky as ever. “Maybe we should all take a week off, see who comes back the most relaxed.”

He laughs again, “well one couple has a kid, the other is with the Illyrians, I think we’ll win.”

“And thank the mother for that,” she leans in for another kiss, unsure how she could even sustain another round but her lust for him overpowers logic.

This was going to be a long week.

A/N: the house picked the name Anvita: who bridges the gap, who connects home and heart.

#azriel x elain #Azriel x elain smut #a court of thorns and roses fanfic

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fieldofdaisiies · 5 months ago

Text

In canon. Azriel returns home from a mission, a little injured and very exhausted. Eris knows exactly how to take care of him. for @azrisweek | azrisweek masterlist | read on ao3 | no warnings

Kneeling beside the tub Eris gently moves the sponge, drenched in luke-warm water, down his mate’s wounded chest. He is careful not to touch the shredded skin too much, but he has to clean them out as well so he can’t fully avoid them either.

Azriel’s arms rest in the water, letting his tense muscles soak and ease, his head is tipped back, resting on the edge of the tub, lips parted.

Eris moves the sponge over the edges of a very nasty gash, always careful, but with wounds like these you can never be careful enough.

Azriel’s face contorts with a grimace, before he clenches his jaw to hold back from crying out.

“I am sorry, my love,” Eris whispers, his own heart squeezing when he feels his mate’s pain through the bond. “But I need to clear the wounds of the dirt and the puss, it will get infected otherwise.”

“Don’t apologise,” Azriel breathes, a muscle feathering in his jaw.

What Eris is doing for him…he has no words for it. No one has ever done that for him. When returning home from a mission he always used to be alone, cleaning his own wounds and processing everything that has happened on his mission.

Not anymore.

Now he has a mate. A mate who worries and cares more than anyone else has ever done before. A mate who helps him bathe, cooks food for him, massages his sore muscles and wings and who holds him throughout the whole night, whispering words of love and comfort, trying to soothe all the tension within him. And when the cold from deep within him threatens to spill all throughout his body, his mate keeps him warm.

Azriel can barely articulate how grateful he is for Eris and how much he loves him. He has always been more of the physical type and so he is happy with showing Eris how much he means to him through his actions rather than his words – squeezing his hand, kissing his forehead, pulling him close to his body, making tender love to him throughout the whole night…

Eris runs the sponge down his mate‘s chest once more before placing it on the edge of the tub. Rolling back his shoulders, he also cranes his neck, then lifts his hand to brush back a few strands of hair that have fallen into Azriel’s face.

“I should be so mad at you and give you the silent treatment for at least two weeks.” Tenderly, Eris lets two fingers trail down the side of his lover‘s face, collecting a few stray droplets of water.

Azriel can’t help but chuckle. He lifts his head, glimpsing at his mate through one eye. “And why is that?”

“For putting yourself in so much danger!” Eris throws one arm up in despair, frowning at his mate. “You could be dead, Azriel. Or wounded much worse, or—”

“But I am not!” As quick as a shadow, Azriel grasps Eris‘ hand, and brings it to his lips, softly kissing his mate‘s palm. “I have looked worse, trust me.”

“That isn’t really a relief, you know?” Eris grumbles, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

“Join me in the water?”

“You‘re just trying to change the topic.”

“Maybe.”

“Impossible.” Despite his little displeasure about his mate’s nonchalance concerning his wounds, Eris rises from the floor a second later, stripping out of his shoes first, then his trousers and lastly his shirt.

Azriel watches him all the while, silently admiring and devouring his mate with his eyes. The corners of his lips kick up and he closes his eyes, a breathy chuckle leaving him. “I think I will never grow tired of seeing you like this, naked and stunning. Delicious.” Azriel slides forward, making room for his mate behind him.

“Still trying to change the topic and distract me.” Eris lifts one foot over the edge of the tub perfectly accommodated for wings, then the second and slowly sinks into warm water. “And now trying to seduce me with your words, Shadowsinger.”

“But it works so well, doesn’t it?”

This time Eris chuckles, sitting back on his heels while picking up the sponge again. “Spread your wings.”

Azriel hums in response and it edges on a moan. He leans over the tub wall, bending at the waist and then unfolds his wings, following Eris' order and letting his mate finish attending to his wounds.

“Gods,” Azriel sighs, resting his chin on his hand, feeling how he gets hard only from his mate’s subtle caress on his wings. They won’t end up fucking this night, that is for sure. Azriel is way too tired and exhausted, and his body a little too wounded, for it — Eris would never allow them to go beyond kissing or worse doing something that causes Azriel more pain.

But teasing? Even if they don’t end up tangled up in the sheets together, teasing is always on Eris‘ agenda. And so is making his mate feel good, in the best possible way.

“You want to talk about your mission?” Eris asks, carefully, running the cloth up the juncture of Azriel’s right wing and then over the soft membrane.

“Not yet.” Azriel often needs time to process everything he has seen and Eris accepts this — of course he does.

“Good,” Eris hums, now moving on to the second wing. “The hounds missed you, always barking and whining, hoping you‘ll return soon.”

“They are almost as bad as their owner.” A soft chuckle slips through Azriel’s dry lips, which is rapidly cut off when Eris flicks his ear. He yelps a little in response – a very dramatic reaction to the barely-there pain..

“They just want you at home where you are safe.” Eris places the cloth on the edge of the tub and sits back with a heavy sigh. “I fucking hate seeing you hurt.”

“I know,” Azriel answers, voice tinged with remorse. “I’ll try to be more careful.” He changes his position, sitting back down in the water, flaring his wings and leaning back against the tub wall.

Opening his arms, he invites Eris into his embrace, “Come here.”

Eris follows, happily seeking comfort in his mate’s strong arms. He snuggles up against Azriel, who rests his chin atop his head and folds his arms over the base of his throat. “I would never do something reckless that could really hurt me, or at least I’m not doing those kinds of things anymore.”

Eris doesn’t say anything, only listens.

“I have a reason to return now. I have a person to come back home to. I have someone waiting for me. And I have someone I want to see again, someone whose smile I want to see again, someone whose laughter I want to hear again, someone who I want to kiss and hold again.” Azriel’s chest lifts with a deep inhale, pushing against Eris’ back.

“I have a mate and I have a home, I would never risk not seeing this ever again..” His lips kiss the top of the High Lord’s head who shudders in his embrace.

“I love you, Eris,” he whispers, and some small tears roll down his cheeks. “More than I could ever put into words.”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Eris crouches down in front of Azriel with a smirk on his lips. “You enjoy this too much, my love.”

They stayed in the bath for as long as possible — Eris used his firepowers to keep the water enjoyably warm— but at some point they had to leave. Namely when Azriel’s stomach started to growl and Eris went into full mother-hen mode — his mate needed to eat and that immediately.

“I do,” Azriel hums, “because most of the time this position leads to other things.” A grin splits his lips and Eris shakes his head with a dramatic huff.

“They gave me the horniest mate of all of them, didn’t they?” he says in an amused voice.

Azriel only shrugs, having to snigger slightly. Maybe they did. But with a mate like Eris it is hard to not be aroused half of the time.

“I don’t think you don’t like it.”

“My mate being constantly horny?” Eris deliciously slowly slides the towel up Azriel’s inner thigh.

“Mhm.” The shadowsinger’s eyes travel to Eris’ chest, following a few droplets of water that slowly make their way down to where his towel is wrapped around his waist. His lids grow heavy, and he knows Eris can scent his arousal, but that is alright. He is his mate, and he should know just how much he desires him. Every minute of the day.

Azriel’s breath catches, and then he swallows thickly. Eris moves his towel-clothed hand down Azriel’s other leg, his other hand holding onto his mate’s hip for support. He knows exactly what he is doing and it drives Azriel’s almost insane. “Tease,” he murmurs, his tone edging on a growl.

Eris chuckles deeply, and then flashes his mate a big grin. He can feel how the shadowsinger‘s body reacts, tensing in response to his actions. Azriel’s cock starts to throb with desire, feeling heavier at the touch of his mate’s hands on his skin, and the position they find themselves in.

The bond is still new, the frenzy still strong, their need for each other so very strong. But not tonight. Tonight is all about closeness, holding each other, maybe cuddling naked, but no love making. And definitely no fucking.

When both Azriel’s strong and muscular legs are dry, Eris starts to tend to the rest of his mate’s sculpted body. His lower abdomen, his marvellous chest, his arms and of course his hands which he pays extra attention to. Lastly, he rubs the towel over Azriel’s head and kisses his lips. “Let’s eat, my love.”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Only one step out into the corridor, Azriel is met with the hounds. All twelve of them, happily barking and trying to press their damp snouts against him, sniffing him and licking him.

Azriel’s greets all of them, tumbling back and forth from the impact of them pressing against him. It takes him quite a while to get free of them, allowing them to follow him into the dining room where he will give them a few treats (much to their owner’s dismay who always says Azriel spoils them).

Soft candle light flickers on the table, accompanied by some scones on the wall, otherwise the room is dark. But it isn’t an uncomfortable darkness — it is soothing, and peaceful and Azriel knows he is not alone. He is with his mate, and their precious pets, so he hums in delight.

The High Lord approaches him with a plate — only one as it is already late and Eris has undoubtedly already had dinner not knowing his mate would arrive back home this evening.

“Here you go.” Eris' gesture is so simple, only a little peck to the top of his head but Azriel’s heart almost burst out of his chest due to it.

Before Eris can move away from him, the spymaster quickly reaches out, wrapping both strong arms around his mate’s torso and pulling him so close that he can bury his face in Eris‘ solid belly.

“I love you,” Azriel mumbles, the sound muffled due to his mouth being pressed against part of Eris fluffy bathrobe and his bare skin.

“I love you.” Eris‘ gently lets his hand slide into Azriel’s soft hair, massaging his scalp in a light caress. They stay like this for a while — until Azriel’s stomach decides to make himself known once again.

This time Eris is quick enough. He moves away rapidly when he hears the growling noise of his mate’s stomach, not liking it a bit. “Eat now!”

>>>>>>>>>>>>

The moment Azriel appears in their shared chamber the bed is already waiting for him, inviting him into its soft embrace. The sheets whisper when he slides beneath them and his eyelids grow heavy, closing and staying closed for a bit. Until he feels the bed dip beside him.

“I missed you,” he mumbles, shifting so that he can lie half-atop his mate.

Eris wraps both arms around Azriel, holding him tight and close, the fingers of one hand gently scratch the back of Azriel’s head, with his other hand Eris‘ tenderly caresses the shadowsinger‘s back. “I missed you.”

Turning his head a little, Azriel pecks Eris' chest, humming lowly when he does so. Then he nuzzles his face into his mate’s warm skin and the fine dusting of hair, exhaling a long and deep sigh.

“You need to work tomorrow, or do we have time for each other?”

The hand in Azriel’s hair pauses and his soft chuckle makes his chest vibrate against Azriel’s face. “I am the High Lord, my love,” Eris says, “and if my mate tells me he wants me all for himself, I simply decide that I have no work to do and stay with him instead.”

general Azris tag list (please let me know if you want to be added/removed): @azrielsbabyg @lady-riel @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @ladyelain @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ofduskanddreams @acourtofladydeath @secret-third-thing @born-to-riot @chunkypossum @talibunny30 @berryzxx

thank you so much @born-to-riot for beta reading💛

#azrisweek2024 #azrisweek #azris #azriel x eris #azris au

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girlfrandletters · 2 years ago

Text

Open Letter To My Ex-Boyfriend

This isn't an accusatory letter, nor is it a cry for pity. It's not meant to place blame or cause harm, merely to explain and, maybe, allow for some understanding, on both of our parts.

~~~~~

Hello.

I hope this letter finds you well, and I truly do hope you're living a peaceful happy life right now. I know I am. Even when I am shaken by bouts of anxiety and panic about certain things, I am happy.

I am working at a good practice, as a veterinarian. Whether or not that surprises you, I'll leave that up to you. After so many years of watching me flounder in the stress that school caused me, I hope you are at least a little pleased to know that I did end up making it through to the end. I have two very sweet, loving cats of my own, one a long haired black cat named Azriel, and a short haired black cat named Cassian. They always want to be snuggling with me. I know you would have hated that. There is a third cat, an orange and white girl named Ginger, who belongs to the man I currently live with - I guess she is also technically my cat as well. She was his, but we share an apartment and share our lives and our time so... she's mine too.

Right now I'm lying in bed, him lying next to me, Azriel hugging my arm as I type and Ginger lying at our feet. I'm not sure where Cassian is. I'm thinking about how odd it is to be here, and all the things that had to happen for this to have been made real. I met this guy while on a last scroll through of Tinder before I deleted it forever. I had the Tinder after you broke up with me. You broke up with me after years of clearly being unhappy with me. We had those years because you were the friend of my previous boyfriend, who I met through a work colleague. He started dating me because I was complaining about my first boyfriend and after we had broken up, he had jumped on immediately. It goes on and on. I wouldn't change a moment of any of it, even the bad stuff.

I think I am going to marry this man. I love him deeply and he has been nothing but the most stable support I could ever ask for. I know marriage was never on the table for us, and I never really realized how much of a fundamental difference that was. This guy has made me realize that I am very much ready to get married, have children and really settle down. But it took a lot to get to this point. 2 years in, and I am still having moments of doubt and concern that I am not good enough, that one day, in 2 years, he will decide he's had enough of me and he needs to leave.

You did that to me.

I gave you all of me, wholeheartedly, without real concern. I gave you my precious time, my money, my attention and my affection. And you enjoyed it, for a time. Until you didn't. Not only did you cheat on me and ruin my confidence to its very core, you manipulated me into doing what you wanted, got annoyed when I wouldn't talk to you about how I was feeling, then put me down for feeling certain ways when I did work up the courage to speak to you. You got angry when I would take the time to gather my thoughts and send them to you in a text message, claiming you hated the "novels" I sent. And I'm starting to realize you never actually read a single one of them. Because I told you things that were very dear to me and important to me and the working of our relationship... and you completely ignored them. You used to get annoyed when I would have my moments of panic in school, telling me that if I wasn't confident in myself, that I'd never be a vet and I should just give up and do something else then. How do you say that to someone? You put down my fears and anxieties, then got mad when I joked about yours. You made me feel like I was crazy for being upset for you not answering the phone for hours - after you told me you'd be ready for a call in 10 minutes. I realize that being long distance was hard, and I know that maybe the times when we had time differences made it different. But towards the end, I would cry myself to sleep, cause I hoped to talk to you at least to say good night before I went to bed, and you wouldn't answer - not even to tell me you were busy. Then called 2 hours later, when it was 1 or 2 in the morning for me. I used to lose sleep, waiting for you to call me back.

The night Jacqui messaged me, with her message about sleeping with the same guy, I thought it couldn't possibly be real. You would never do that to me. And when I woke you up, when I heard the way you responded when I told you about her... that's when my heart broke. And I'm not entirely sure it was ever truly fixed after that. I tried to do everything to make it work. I tried an open relationship because that's what you wanted. You explained your feelings about having different people in a way that didn't make sense to me, but I tried anyway because I wanted to make this work. I even tried to sleep with someone while I was at school. I thought, if you had someone, then maybe I could try it. I couldn't. It made me physically ill to kiss another person, knowing that I was in love with you. I put so much into changing my beliefs and desires for you. And then when I finally told you that I couldn't do it, you said that you knew that. You knew I'd never be able to do an open relationship. And yet you continued to watch me struggle with it.

The day that Jacqui wrote that horrible comment on a photo - asking if the photo was taken before or after you told her I wasn't good enough for you - and you sided with her. You told me to not be so sensitive, not to allow other people to affect my emotions like that. You told me to stop crying because I needed to grow up, instead of telling her to not disrespect your girlfriend. I think I knew then that we would never make it far together. I still tried, I think, to save face. I had defended you and our relationship to my family for so long, I couldn't just give up on it now. I continued to allow myself to endure the emotional abuse because I didn't want my mother to say "I told you so." And you know her, she absolutely would have.

In that final year, I started to wonder what it would be like to break up with you, to no longer have you as a fixture in my life. And I found that...

I wasn't upset with the idea.

I didn't cry because I feared losing you. I would worry more so about how I would make it happen. HOW I could make it happen. I was always terrible with communication. But I thought that maybe at the right time, I could tell you I'd had enough. But I never could. I couldn't bring myself to cause that heartache to you. But now I know that I should have, and it wouldn't have caused you much heartache at all.

I wonder sometimes if you felt anything at all after you hung up the phone that day. I wonder if you knew that I cried for the whole night, not really for you and for us and what we just lost... but because it was over, and I had let myself endure so much for so long... to be told that I wasn't good enough.

I'm not fully in the clear in this, and I am aware of this fact. I clung to you like a drowning man clings to driftwood. I made you out to be this savior, to be my salvation and that was unfair. I came to you with anxieties and worries that you were not mentally equipped to deal with. You pretended like you did in the beginning, but as we got further along, you realized that it was more than just a rich-bitch-crying-for-help type of thing. I think you started to realize just how deeply fucked up I was, and you were not able to handle yourself and me at the same time. And I'm not blaming you for that. Over the last few months, I've learned that there was a lot of deep seated past traumas that were so far repressed in me, that I didn't even know how to acknowledge them, and yet they dictated a lot of how I acted, and felt, and thought. And I used you as my driftwood. Which was unfair. I held you to a standard you could never have been, not at that time. When you weren't Just Perfect, I got upset. When you didn't say the right thing, I would cry. When you tried to have a healthy balance of life, I got jealous. Can you believe that I used to. get jealous of RetroFitness, because of all the time you spent there? It's so stupid, I know, but I was jealous of that time, because that was time that we were not together. I was not a healthy person, though I thought I was. Seeing where I am now, I can see that I was as far from healthy as a cancer patient. I was a dying human.

I don't think you really knew the full extent to which I felt my emotions. I never really got to explain them fully to you. And I hope you'll bear with me as I go through these next few thoughts. Again, I mean them not to garner pity, but merely for you to understand the things that made me who I was and am.

I was passively suicidal. I would think about cars hitting me while I drove, I fantasized about a burglar breaking into our house and either killing me as a primary crime, or to remove a witness. I can't tell you how many times I used to sit on the beach, and wonder what would happen if I just swam out too far and drowned. That first night we ever talked on videochat in that stupid dingy Philly apartment, you were seeing an aftermath of one of the worst raging panic attacks I've ever had. I've only ever had 2 since that moment. I know I told you this, but you cannot understand the abject terror I felt when I blinked and realized I was standing in the kitchen with the largest kitchen knife held over my wrist. I don't remember going to the kitchen. I barely remember making it inside the apartment. I've never used a knife before. I cut myself with my fingers. I scratched and scratched and scratched until I hurt deeply. I used to drink myself into blackness every night because I thought maybe one day, I just wouldn't wake up. You seemed like a light at the time, and I grasped you and held you aloft and used you to work my way out of that darkness.

But I ended up feeling more alone as time went on. I realized that you couldn't save me, nor should I have ever expected you too. I lost my ability to be able to talk to you, I lost the outlet I once had. I had all these pent up feelings and no way to release them. And I started to get more and more in my own head, more and more incapable of accepting and working through my traumas and flaws. By the time you broke up with me, I was a shell of what I should have been, I felt unloved, unappreciated, underwhelming, and like I'd never be good enough for you. Or anyone for that matter. I tried to use that time afterwards to heal, but I wasn't ready for that. I was able to drink without fear of disappointing you. I was able to sleep with whoever I wanted for whatever reason I wanted and I did. I fucked guys because they were attractive for a night. I fucked them because I wanted to erase the memory of you. There was one guy though, a guy who I thought was just going to be around for a night, but ended up making the rest of my time in school bearable. But he ended up just increasing those feelings you had instilled in me. Not that he's super important to what I have to tell you. But he was another person who I allowed to push me and manipulate me and get me to that ledge where, with one more word, he could have sent me spiraling to my death.

....

It's funny.

The night I started talking to the guy I'm with now, I was going to quit online dating and go on that mediative reflective journey to "find myself" and "become a better me," or whatever horseshit phrase the cool kids are saying now.

In the end, I did go on that journey, but I did it with him by my side.

Since being with him, I've realized all the things that I'd been missing with you. He provided me with the unconditional support, the encouragement, the sex, the affection, the interest that I never really got from you - not to the capacity that I needed it. He was able to see where I was going wrong and steer me in the right direction, whether or not me meant to do that. I'll never presume to know where you were in your own mental health journey, but I think he understood where I was a lot better, because he had been to that brink as well. You used to talk a lot about wanting to "jump off a cliff." But I don't know if you were ever actually at that point. You loved life too much. You loved attention and people and stories. Not to sound like an asshole, but you were, in a way, a very selfless person and would never have actually killed yourself.

But this guy... he stood on a bridge and contemplated that jump, just like I sat on a cliff and contemplated mine.

When I was in the throws of a raging panic attack, struggling to gulp down air to breath, clawing at my skin, crying until my eyes burned, he was able to talk me through a lot of things that made me realize that a lot of what I felt and how I reacted was from the way I grew up, from the things that happened when I was a kid, and even before then. Before my adoption, before I was really cognizant of what was happening. Without boring you, I can say that he helped me realize that I have a very deep core fear of abandonment, likely from being left by my birth family. I have a fear of attachment and, ironically, touch, because of what happened with my brother. When I am in a very bad spiral, I can't stand being touched. I don't know if you ever knew that.

The point of all this is to say that he knew the right words, the right actions, the right looks and touches. He knows how to communicate to me when I am in a spiral, no matter how deep. And he knows how to talk about his own concerns - paranoias and fears and worries, and stresses.

We are a couple of people with similar experiences and are able to share them with each other. You and I were never a couple who could do that. And I think that, at its core, is what kept us from working. We were two vastly different people. We were not "the same people with different view points," as I like to see myself and this guy. We were two very different people with two very different view points.

But I have found the person that I am going to marry, the one I intend to spend the rest of my life with. I am happy with him, and comfortable. I like what we have built and I look forward to what we will be continuing to build in the future.

I hope you have found the same, or that you will find the same. I know everybody grows up, everybody becomes different given enough time. And I can only hope that you have found a way of life that is good for you. I hope you've got a life that you are content with and I hope you have a long life, for whatever it's worth. I never wished any ill to you, even if those videos of me cutting that pillow and breaking that mug might speak otherwise.

I know you will never read this, and this letter is actually not even the important things I wanted to say. Maybe I'll write a different one next time, more concise, to the point. To drive those points home that actually matter. But until then, I'll be happy with this novel of word vomit and hope it brings me a little more peace to help me sleep at night.

Sincerely, Your Ex-Girlfriend

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