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azrielhours · 1 year

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Waiting on a Ghost

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 9k. lmao

Synopsis: Reader moves to Windhaven before the Great War against slavery begins to help the cause. A fleeting romance blossoms unexpectedly between her and Azriel as attraction pulls them together, as they tiptoe around a bond that grows in their chests. They seek each other, and she waits to reunite with him through the war, through silence and sound, through hope and home. Inspired by the Odyssey.

Song inspo: Yebba’s Heartbreak by Drake

Warnings: Smut. Canon typical violence. This one hurt a fkn lot lol.

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There’s nothing unique about the out-of-place feeling that comes with moving. You knew there would be a sense of uprooting upon changing homes. What you didn’t know was that your new home wouldn’t be a place. It would be him.

Rumours about a war breaking out had initially seemed like conspiracies. Enslaved mortals revolting, Human Queens leading an uprising. It quickly became a reality check when the King of Hybern massacred his slaves. The threat of war lurked like a storm on its way to claim fathers, neighbours, sons, to make widows out of wives, exchanging loneliness like a transaction for its violent means.

Your father knew he would be more useful to the cause closer to the fray, which is how you wound up packing your belongings and moving to a war camp called Windhaven. Home to the aerial cavalry of the Night Court, your father explained.

Settling in was as fast-paced as the war preparations. Warriors of legendary might walked the grounds, and you quickly acclimated to the sight of an Illyrian warrior shooting down from the sky in a landing. As your father worked tirelessly with weapon making, you’d found the nearest female and offered to do anything useful. “Please.”

She’d turned out to be a seamstress, noting your flustered state, unused to the casual prowl of the inked warriors that called this place home. She’d told you her name was Rhiannon as she directed you to meal preparations.

You did your best to ignore the stares you received during the communal dinners; the male hunger.

Rhiannon would laugh in passing at your flushed cheeks. “They’re not used to seeing refined ladies,” she’d tease. “I fear for the health of my sons when they see you.” You would rush back to work to the sound of her laughter.

One evening, there was a shift in the kitchen energy, whispers of some entourage. One of the girls informed you the High Lord had arrived. The soldiers he’d come with were seated nonchalantly amongst the usual faces you’d begun recognizing.

The High Lord was nowhere to be seen, and the warriors were no different than the rest. You gingerly stepped between the only empty seat, situated before a hulking warrior standing nearby who was turned away, occupied in conversation. You leaned forward to set your tray down, but before it contacted the table, something slammed into you from behind, knocking you forward. You braced for impact, losing your grip on the tray. Gasping in horror, you anticipated the clatter of dishes, but it never came. A hand to your left shot out instinctively, stabilizing the tray. Warrior reflexes. The table fell silent in the wake of your tumble, all eyes on you as you pushed yourself up off the table.

You turned, searching for the cause of your fall. Before you stood the warrior who’d been previously conversing; a giant, rugged mass of a male with hair down to his jaw. Red siphons gleamed in your peripherals. “I’m so sorry,” he said, hazel eyes wide. His hands were open and paused mid-reach, like he stopped himself from steadying you.

“It’s okay,” you breathed, still shaken.

“I didn’t see you. You’re so—” he brought a hand up, holding his index and thumb out to convey smallness. A laugh huffed out of you at his mild panic. He dropped the pinching gesture. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, smiling this time. You turned to assess the table. The tray… someone had grabbed it. Mid-air. You found it’d been set down by its saviour. The male seated to your left whose attention was now on you. Another set of hazel eyes.

These ones stole your breath away.

You stared and he stared right back. His golden-tanned skin seemed to glow in contrast to the darkness of his raven hair, his fighting leathers. “Oh,” you breathed. God, he was… beautiful. The most beautiful male I’ve ever seen. Pink blossomed on his high cheekbones, further accentuating the elegant planes of his face. “Thank you,” you breathed.

His head dipped in a silent nod. Shadows wafted around him as he continued to watch you. You ducked your head and turned abruptly to escape the weight of his gaze.

You ran right into a hard body. Stepping back, your eyes met with the first perpetrator. He smiled sheepishly, muttering another apology and stepping aside.

“Cassian, would you stop harassing the poor girl?” A female voice drew your attention. Lady Rhiannon. Thank God. She strode towards the table, a kind smile on her face. “I told you you’d sweep my boys off their feet. But it looks like they beat you to it.”

You stared, face hot.

“I was talking about the fall you took, darling,” she winked. “Isn’t that right, Cassian?”

“I’m very sorry about that,” he said again, brows raised in earnest honesty as he took the empty seat.

“These are your sons?” you exhaled.

She nodded, smiling fondly. “There’s one more. Rhysand, who’s just speaking to his father.”

You nodded, still off-kilter. She just chuckled, offering her arm, guiding you back. Cassian, Rhysand, and... The pretty one. They didn’t say his name.

“Azriel,” she said softly. You glanced over in question. She smiled knowingly. “His name is Azriel.”

You began blushing again. With a gentle pat on your cheek, she left you with your thoughts.

Before crossing the threshold back to the kitchen, you turned to glance at the table. Through the sea of people, you found him watching you. The shadows swirling around his head and wings were like the seeping essence of a dark angel; his eyes were clear and focused as they held your gaze.

Azriel.

The days passed and the males grew restless as talk of war circulated. You kept your head down, helping everywhere you could. At the end of your shift in the kitchen, Rhiannon came to personally invite you to her home for a gathering. “To keep the soldiers’ spirits up.”

“I don’t have anything nice to wear,” you patted down your apron. You’d given everything away with the abrupt move.

“You’re talking to a seamstress,” she teased. “I’m sure I have something for you.”

At her house, she had you try on dresses until you found one you liked. In your gratitude for her continuous show of kindness, you insisted on staying to help prepare for the gathering.

Guests began trickling in as the sun set. High-ranking officials populated the sitting area, and the house was soon full. You served refreshments, ushering guests in. Looking to the door for the hundredth time, you suppressed your disappointment at the absence occupying your awareness. You chastised yourself for caring, for wanting him to see you dressed up instead of frazzled in an apron, dumbfounded and speechless.

Motion on the windowsill pulled you out of your thoughts. Moving closer to get a better look, you realized what it was.

Shadows.

Immediately, you backed away, fussing with your skirts. The door opened, and in walked Cassian and another male bounding for Rhiannon. So this is Rhysand, then. At her friendly beckon, the males’ attention turned to you.

“Y/N, dear, you’ve met Cassian, and this is my son Rhysand.”

Cassian smiled down at you with wide-eyed sincerity. You returned his smile before surveying Rhysand.

His violet eyes matched his mother’s. “Please call me Rhys.” He offered a hand, tugging yours up to kiss your knuckles. “You’re the new lady, aren’t you? The one Cassian knocked down.”

Cassian muttered under his breath as you laughed. “I’m not a lady.”

“You certainly look like one,” he mused.

“Where’s Azriel?” Rhiannon asked, unfazed by her son’s shameless flirting.

“On the veranda,” Cassian answered.

Rhys’s gaze turned to you once more, something suddenly sparking in his eyes that made you brace yourself. “He could use some encouragement,” he purred.

“I’m sorry?”

Cassian smiled, catching the insinuation. “He’s a little shy. Maybe you could ask him to come inside.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

Oh.

You took your tray and made your way to him.

Azriel was leaning against the wooden railing, observing the attendees occupying the grounds, wings folded tightly to his spine. A shadow curled at his ear, and he turned to face you, standing straight and tucking his hands behind his back.

His eyes tracked you as you approached him. Your stomach was doing flips beneath his stare, but you forced yourself to break the silence. “Lady Rhiannon—she told me your name is Azriel.”

A dip of the head. “It is. What’s yours?”

You suppressed a shiver at the baritone drag of his voice. “Y/N.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Were you just going to stay out here all night, Azriel?” You shamelessly indulged yourself, testing his name again. A small part of him you could borrow like sugar.

“I think I’m alright out here,” he spoke gently. He eyed the drinks in hand. “You’re always carrying a tray,” a small smile tugged his lips upward.

You matched his smile. “Except for when I drop it in front of all the soldiers.”

His smile deepened. “That’s on Cassian, not you.”

You took another step forward. “Well, thankfully you were there to help.”

Despite the command of his stature, he averted your gaze, flushing. “Don’t mention it.” He’s a blusher, then. He still smiled, tugging at your heartstrings. A beat of silence, then he said, “You’re here to help with the war efforts?”

“Yes. My father is a blacksmith.”

He nodded thoughtfully, eyes wise beyond his years. “Do you miss home?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know if… I have a home.”

He studied you. “No?” he asked softly. “No scenery or family to miss?”

You averted your gaze. “Not really. I don’t have any family besides my father.” You offered a small smile to ease the tension. “I brought my favourite books with me, that’s enough for now.”

“I’m not unfamiliar with that feeling,” he voiced, eyes scanning the crowd of warriors.

“No family?” you repeated his question.

“I have my brothers. That’s enough for now.”

A beat of silence as you both sat in your confessions.

“You’re going to fight in the war?” You asked foolishly.

His attention returned to you. “Of course. It’s an honour.”

You nodded, pain suddenly stabbing in your chest at the thought. Azriel’s shy nature was blasphemy in war. Maybe he feels as out of place as I do.

Looking around at the males, you sought to distract yourself from the sorrow you felt. Azriel noted your distressed gaze sweeping the yard, misunderstanding its cause.

“Let me,” he said, taking the tray off your hands.

You huffed a laugh. “You’re always taking trays from me,” you teased.

Azriel just smiled. “I’m at your disposal.”

As he turned to step off the veranda, you couldn’t stop yourself— “Azriel.” He halted, turning back to face you. “When you’re finished… come inside.”

Caught off guard, he stared, brows high.

You cleared your throat. “They, um… they told me to ask you to come in.”

He cocked his head to the side, a crooked smile this time. “Did they?”

You bit your lip shyly. “Mhm. I mean, only if you’d like to,” you tried.

He didn’t indulge you, holding his ground silently; a cheekier side of him that he hadn’t shown before. His crooked smile remained, eyes narrowing playfully at your slip of the tongue.

You scoffed, blushing harder. “Will you come inside please, Azriel?”

He laughed, letting you off the hook. “Alright. I’ll meet you inside, then.”

“Okay,” you said, turning on your heel before you made any more of a fool of yourself.

Inside, Cassian and Rhys immediately bounded over, displaying a familiarity with you that warmed you to the bone. “Where is he?” Cassian asked.

“He’s handing out drinks to the other warriors.”

Cassian and Rhys exchanged a bewildered look. “What?” you asked at the sudden shock.

“You got Az serving refreshments to the Illyrians?” Cassian gaped.

Rhiannon joined your group, smiling as her boys howled with laughter. She smiled at you. “Like I said. You’re bad news for the health of my sons.”

A week passed since the gathering. Azriel never left your thoughts. Even your father noted how you’d often zone out, gazing at shadows as evenings fell, watching them dance. Your daydreams would frequent the memories of the gathering, the shy glances on the veranda, how happy you felt when Azriel indeed came back to you.

Cassian and Rhys kept you company. When Azriel arrived, it felt like something settled into place. Like the sense of uprooting had resolved. He smiled and walked over, and you listened as his brothers told you animated story after story of all the trouble the three of them had gotten into through the years.

Your joy was cut short when Azriel got called away for something with the High Lord. You didn’t get a chance to see if he’d ask you to dance with him.

A knock on the door yanked you back to reality. You crossed your house to answer the door, but your father was already there. You peered from behind him as he opened the door, freezing at the sight of the hazel-eyed Illyrian standing on your veranda with his hands tucked behind his back. Your father asked him, “What can I do for you, son?”

Azriel dipped his head in greeting, eyes flitting to yours before addressing your father. “Sir, I have some books that belonged to my mother. They’re of no use to me. I thought since your daughter was learned, she might… appreciate them.”

“That’s very generous,” your father said, stepping aside.

“Thank you,” you breathed, reaching to take the books Azriel pulled from behind his back. Two novels. His fingers brushed against yours, and you hoped your father wouldn’t notice the blush staining your cheeks.

“You must come in,” your father said, turning to lead the way inside. But Azriel opened his mouth to object, his cheeks blushing red.

“Oh, no, I should probably get back,” Azriel objected, his eyes darting to the floor.

“He seems more comfortable outside, father,” you cut in. “Perhaps you could go on a walk with him.”

Azriel’s eyes widened, and you bit back a smile. “Well the weather is nice,” your father said, gesturing for Azriel to lead the way. Azriel looked back at you as your father exited the threshold, throwing a playful glare at you for having cornered him. You grinned brazenly, closing the door.

You spent the next while sitting by the window in your room, watching fondly as Azriel walked with your father around the grounds. You only felt slightly guilty for orchestrating it. The books he brought you were clutched to your chest like treasures. You finally broke your attention off the pair outside and opened the first novel.

The smile was wiped off your face. There was a note written in precise handwriting that fell onto your lap, and a portrait of Azriel. You couldn’t help but trace over the portrait of his handsome face like a widow, like he was yours and the longing you felt was justified. You let yourself read his note.

You said your books are enough home for you. These are my favourites, so you have a piece of my home as well.

Rhys made me add the portrait. So you don’t forget me, Y/N.

You’d gotten used to the routine of things, finding fulfilment in the work and bustle of the camp. Most of all, you anticipated the glances during dinners. His books sat on your nightstand. His portrait inside, his handwriting. You’d pass by tables of warriors and beam with glee, thinking they don’t know I have Azriel’s books in my room. In the kitchen, singing as you worked. They don’t know he wants me to remember him. It made you hope and dream, made the future feel less bleak.

Until one dinner, when a young boy came running through the halls. The Windhaven Messenger, bringing a letter from another Illyrian camp. “The High Lord commands deployment!”

The communal hall fell silent as the boy continued his declaration. “The King of Hybern has sent out his commanders. We set out westward tonight!”

The Illyrians immediately rose, the silence turning over as quickly as it fell. The warriors left their tables and began exiting to prepare to march to their high lord. Some were whooping in excitement, some looking for their friends, a few sending prayers above. Your stomach sank, the dishes in your hand clattering to the floor. You didn’t care, stepping over them and searching for him, for his brothers.

You found Azriel at his table, a calm force standing still while everyone around him rushed about. His face was solemn but settled. Once again, his very nature seemed sacrilege in the face of battle. A contradiction that seemed unnatural and cruel.

You held each others’ gaze, the entire camp bustled around you while the two of you stood vigil at either end of the hall, two upright pillars surrounded by a raging storm.

Finally, someone clasped Azriel’s shoulder, drawing his attention aside as he listened, likely a command from a superior. Azriel looked back once more before he followed the male outside with the rest of the Illyrians, leaving you to pick up the pieces off the floor, broken glass and broken heart alike.

When the cleaning finished, you headed back to your house. At home, you took what you needed, steeled your nerves, and headed in the direction your heart commanded before cowardice overpowered you.

Lady Rhiannon’s house. Three knocks on the door as loud as your heart hammered. You told yourself you wouldn’t mind if Cassian or Rhys answered the door. They deserved goodbyes as well, deserved your prayers and parting words.

But when Azriel opened the door, you sighed in relief. Then got overtaken with nerves all over again. “Azriel,” you breathed.

He stepped out onto the porch, jaw tense and eyes piercing. “Y/N.”

He could surely hear how your heart raced, see how you fumbled with your hands. “I—I brought you this book. To take with you.” You extended it forward.

His eyes softened. “A piece of your home.”

Holding his gaze steadily, you said, “Yes. A piece of my home.” Spoken with the certainty that only he brought out of you in this place as you drank him in like the elixir of life.

His head dipped imperceptibly. “Thank you,” he held the book with reverence, opening it. You held your breath as you bore the vulnerability. Inside the book was your own portrait for Azriel’s remembrance, and a note. You watched as his typically stoic face opened, how his eyes widened, his mouth parted.

You’d required Cassian’s aid in tracking down an alchemist to render your portrait using Dawn Court magic. Your note to Azriel was as an invitation to write to you. Permission. You stepped back on the porch, watching the men walk the ground as he read your note.

Perhaps my books aren’t enough anymore. Perhaps I’ve finally found the home I’ve been searching for.

I could never forget you, Azriel Shadowsinger.

You turned back to him, and Azriel’s piercing hazel stare flashed to yours. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. Neither of you knew how to maneuver around the sentiments. You shook your head, turning to leave in the wake of bashfulness. “Y/N,” he breathed, reaching forward.

He wrapped a strong forearm around your waist, pulling you back to him. You gasped, body flush with his chest, hands flying to his shoulders. Azriel kissed you, pulling you impossibly tighter to his broad chest, so firmly to him that your feet left the ground. His other arm wrapped around you, and you melted. His lips were soft but his kisses were demanding. He pressed deeper into your mouth, leaning forward until you were set back on your feet, but you still clung to him. Your eyes remained blissfully closed as you gasped inhales, exhaling sighs into his mouth when he didn’t let up, claiming your bottom lip between his own. His hard body around yours made your head cloud over, made you breathe harder as you tried and failed to regain your bearings.

Until the front door opened again, and Azriel released your mouth. Cassian and Rhysand stepped out and walked around where the two of you remained firmly embraced. Rhysand laughed, his stride unfaltering as Cassian followed, yelling over his shoulder, “he’ll be back!”

Azriel rested his mouth on your shoulder as they strode off, as you caught your breath, still clinging to him. His arms released your waist, hands moving to your shoulder blades as he too panted raggedly. He still pressed you to his chest, his shadows dancing around your pairing. Finally, he broke off entirely, leaving you standing in a complete daze on the porch. He re-entered the house with the door open between the two of you. You watched as he slung a bag over his shoulder, securing the last of his weapons onto his person, then stepped back onto the porch. He stared into your eyes, the intensity piercing, nearly making your knees buckle.

“I’ll wait for you,” you breathed.

Azriel was still breathing hard. He didn’t say anything, just clutched onto the book. He slowly walked around you, holding your gaze, collecting his composure. Until he turned, joining his brothers at the end of the yard.

You ran down the path to where women gathered to send their men off and waited for Azriel’s unit to march on. A chorus of goodbyes and well-wishes echoed in the air, colonels organizing their men, but you could’ve sworn a soft lullaby drifted above it all as you found Azriel in the ranks. As he took you in with the same longing in his eyes that you just tasted on his lips. You heard the melody play and tried to lean into it, to let it be the last thing you felt as he marched away instead of the sorrow rapidly displacing it. I’ll be here, you vowed. And you’ll come back to me.

There was a sense of fracturing between your ribs. Perhaps your heart breaking so soon after he’d just made it dance with unity, with joy and yearning and rightness.

His gaze snapped to yours one last time. Determination in them this time. You felt it as much as you saw it. Yes.

Azriel, you will come home to me.

Only after the Illyrians shot to the skies did you break your gaze. Pointing it further skyward, you commanded, bring my home back to me.

The beginning was the hardest; the jarring sense of deprivation after weeks of liveliness, of full tables and packed schedules. There were days when you’d wander the grounds, memorizing his home while he was away, searching for glimpses of the honing of his life.

You never knew silence could be so sinister.

Painful days stretched to painful weeks. Months.

News came in scattered clusters through letters received by the women. Hybern sent out his greatest commanders, Amarantha and Clythia to partake in the war. That’s what prompted the hasty deployment.

You wrote to Azriel, asking about his wellbeing, if he had any idea when it would be before he returned. If he was safe.

Azriel did not write back.

Every morning, you’d head to the communal hall where the messengers brought letters from the living and reports on the dead. You’d search for Azriel’s name in both and find it present on neither.

According to a woman whose husband marched in Azriel’s legion, the High Lord coveted Azriel for his Shadowsinging powers, that he now personally commanded Azriel. That explained the radio silence, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. The High Lord fears that his son will rival him in power, she told you, rubbing your arm. He’s separated the three boys in fear of usurping.

Lady Rhiannon would visit, would wipe your tears and shed her own. My Rhys is only 28, she once cried. She told you how Azriel had been imprisoned by his father for 11 years, how he ached to fly, what scarred his hands. She stopped when your tears made it hard to see, instead telling you about how Cassian used to hide in his wings as a child when he was embarrassed, how he played pranks on the High Lord’s council, how the boys once convinced him to swim in the nearby river and took off with his clothes.

That was in the first year. In the second year, it became less bearable to speak about Azriel. There were a few Illyrians who stayed behind, who had the gall to try to court you in his absence. One in particular, Eurymachus, was relentless. He’d find you in the communal hall and tell you, “He’s not coming back. You’re waiting on a ghost.”

The ghost of him was better than any living man.

By the third year, some women moved to a camp closer to the war, including Lady Rhiannon, whose departure was salt on your bleeding wound.

News was still scattered. The last you’d heard, there was a realm where the slaves were freed by two warriors named Miryam and Morrigan.

You prayed that brought the fighting closer to an end. Hope became a ration of war.

When days slipped by and the nights lingered, you’d close your eyes and replay the last time you touched him—the first time, the only time—his hard chest against yours. How his hands pressed you close, how he breathed directly into your mouth. So you’d slip out of bed and write to him again.

Azriel Shadowsinger,

I did not get the chance to dance with you. I never got to hold your hand, never got to walk with you. But still, I dream of the day I live out those wishes. I’ve been evicted from my home all over again. I may be inside a structure but it’s just a matter of rooms. My true home is wherever you are. I pray my home is safe, I pray it’s on its way back to me.

I feel something deep in my chest that sings to me, that feels an awful lot like an instrument. It stirs inside me like a canary in a coal mine. Maybe I’m losing my grip on sanity, but I tell myself that it’s you, that you may not write to me, but your heart sings to mine.

I did not get to say vows to you, Azriel, and maybe I never will, so let this be my first. I take you, Azriel Shadowsinger, for everything you are, in your sound and silence. I will continue to wait for you, and I will only stop when I stop breathing. Come back to me.

Seven years.

The war went on for seven excruciating, unimaginably long years.

Your father died in the fourth year, making the passage of time longer and shorter at the same time, making it run weird, stretching in some places, thinning in others. You’d been bedridden for months. Other women at the camp came to care for you but remembrance was a blur.

“I’m waiting on a ghost,” you’d told them once.

“Doesn’t it make sense to live for him, then? What’s the point if you’re both ghosts.” That was the day you left the bed.

Live for the ghost. Live for Azriel.

You’d learned archery. The deserters trying to court you persisted shamelessly, only growing bolder with your father’s passing. His passing also meant the money gradually ran out. The women trained you, giving you something to do with all the waiting. Gave you the means to provide dinner for the small group of you that ate together.

They all knew who you waited for. You stopped going to the hall to seek his name, only listening for the strum that sometimes arose inside your ribs, willing one back. A shout across the void. A reminder of unsaid vows.

Until one day a woman came running with a letter in hand.

It was from Cassian.

You opened it with shaky fingers. It contained three words, but three were enough.

He’ll be back.

It was another day of biting cold as you drew your bowstring, hunting wild turkeys for tonight’s meal. You fired with practiced aim, walking to collect your game. You were barely outside Windhaven, beginning to turn around when you spotted a male in the distance. Eurymachus, no doubt on his way to try his luck again. You scoffed, notching an arrow in your bow, steadying your aim.

You spared no mercy. “Stop where you are,” you commanded, a voice of practiced authority after years of sly men with sly tactics. “Turn around and leave this camp!”

The male slowed, raising both his arms in surrender, but he still stalked forward. “Y/N?”

“Stop where you are, or I’ll shoot!” You fired a warning arrow above his silhouette, notching another.

The male halted at last, lowering his arms. Smoke drifted off them as they lowered.

No, not smoke.

Shadows.

Your bow lowered, every thought eddying from your mind.

Your heartbeat began pulsing in your ear, almost loud enough to block out the faint lilt in the air, a song that played on the wind.

Then that strum in your sternum pulled taut and released.

Your arms went slack.

Azriel Shadowsinger stood before you. His shadows slithered tentatively towards you on the snow, halting before making contact. He looked at your bow, then scanned your face, the bewilderment in it.

“Azriel,” you choked. Azriel. Dropping your weapon, you cried louder, “Azriel!” Azriel. Azriel. Azriel. You began running to him.

Running home.

His eyes fell shut in utter relief, at the sound and sight. They opened again, surveying you with holy reverence.

You halted your running. This time, his name fell in wet whispers. “Azriel.” Azriel. His presence was like a phantom pain.

He walked towards you, that music on the wind a divine witness.

Your knees threatening to buckle. It was really him. Azriel was here. You nearly shook your head in disbelief, watching as he walked closer while your tears silently fell.

Azriel stood in front of you, letting out a deep shuddering exhale in relief. He looked utterly exhausted, but his eyes were bright and entirely fixed on you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you spoke softly, voice shaking. “Come with me. Let’s go home.”

Home.

Azriel fell asleep as soon as you brought him home. You didn’t touch him yet, just walked before him and tried to calm your racing heart. You took him to your room, watched as he took off his bag, his weapons, his coat. You ran to fetch him some water and came back to find him asleep on the bed over the covers. Bringing one of your blankets over him, you watched as he slept.

He was older, the contours of his face deeper. His cheekbones stuck out more prominently, his jaw even sharper. You wondered how far the lines of change also cut within, if that softness was carved out of him in the carnage and killing fields.

You wept silently by his side as he slept, wept for your youth that slipped away in the prison sentence waiting for your Shadowsinger, wept for his youth that barely made a dent in his life. For the years that estranged you, the weight of them crashing down all at once. Wept in relief for the end of it finally arriving, like the lull of sleep claiming people at nightfall.

Finally, you picked yourself up and got to work, preparing a meal for him.

You sat in the living room, doing what you’ve become an expert in over the last near-decade—you waited. The stars came out, and the Shadowsinger came down.

A kernel of youth returned to his face after resting and washing up. He’d changed into a linen shirt and slacks. He still hesitated around you, clearing his throat, standing in your space but not sitting. You rose to meet him halfway. “Did you receive my letters, Azriel?”

He nodded. “I have five. I kept them in the book you gave me. Cassian brought them to me when we were in the same camps, which was not often.”

A beat of silence. “I sent out hundreds.”

Azriel’s eyes widened. He broke your gaze then met it again. “I suspected the High Lord was keeping them from me.” He absentmindedly rubbed against his sternum. The same place you felt that stirring within. His eyes sobered. “Even without… communication, Y/N, you are what kept me sane out there. Kept me from the darkness.”

You thought of the strength you drew from him after your father’s passing. “Me too, Azriel.”

He continued. “I didn’t need written word to know the sound of your laugh. The colour of your eyes.”

The familiar yearning, the shy glances you both exchanged made you feel like your youth was creeping back into you. It was your turn. “You hiding out on the veranda,” you smiled.

A playfulness lit his hazel eyes. “You carrying a tray.” He matched your smile.

“Well, I needed an excuse to see you, didn’t I?” Tears warmed your eyes again. “I waited every day, Azriel. I waited every day for seven years for you. Longing to see your face.” His eyes fell shut, pain etching his handsome features. A longing he knew all too well.

His brows furrowed. “I fear that the time apart isn't the only thing that came between us, Y/N. I fear that the war’s changed me more than I bargained for.” An inhale. “I want only to offer you goodness, but if I had any, I fear that it’s all gone now.”

Your heart stuttered. “Azriel, I wrote to you once that I take you as you are. In sound and silence, and I’ll tell you that again right now. I take you as you are. And I know the goodness isn’t gone because I can feel it.” You traced down your breastbone.

He looked at you in astonishment. “You feel it?”

“Yes. I can feel you, Azriel.”

The edges of his lips tugged up in a smile, his eyes still wide with awe. The muteness for once felt like a sanctuary and not solitude.

After years of unspoken communication, you both acquired fluency in silence. You walked to him, standing before the hearth. The canary inside pulsed, and you sent a pulse back.

“The day we left, I thought my ribs broke from the… ache of leaving you. I felt it in my bones, a cleavage. But the soldiers, when nights were quiet, they whispered of a bond that ran so deep, it overpowered marriage.”

Yes. “I felt it too that day, Azriel.”

He nodded, gaze focused. “They say it’s like a…”

“A snap.”

He took one step closer. “So that makes us—”

“Mates,” you breathed.

Another nod. “Mates.”

Yes. That admiration stayed in his eyes.

Then, his voice softened. “I know we’ve been waiting all this time, Y/N, but… if it’s too much—I don’t want to rush you. The—mating—if you want it, or—” crimson tinted his cheekbones, reminding you of a younger Az— “If you’d want me—as your husband. Whatever you want.”

You mirrored his wide-eyed wonder as his words stripped you to the barest, most base self. To your soul. “I want you like I’ve never wanted anything, Azriel. Husband, mate, both, anything. Any capacity I get to have you, I want it.”

He nodded, the embodiment of certainty and truth. “Y/N, I want to marry you. I want you to be my wife as well as my mate.”

You nearly scoffed, but your heart was bursting with joy. “I’ve already vowed myself to you on paper.” Lost in whatever archive or fireplace the High Lord stored your letters. You felt light, felt certain like you’ve never known certainty. You beamed comfortably at him. At your mate. “The war, it’s made certain things feel… trivial. Like a wedding.” You looked away, thinking about it for a moment. The stars were your only witnesses. There were no priestesses to call on, no contracts that could bind you more strongly to each other than the binding you carried in your bones—in your soul.

Returning your gaze to his, you found bountiful patience in his eyes. “You know,” you spoke softly, “where I’m from, there was a culture nearby where all you had to do was say ‘I do’ three times, and it was enough to marry a couple.”

Azriel did not smile. He looked at you with the intensity you missed for seven years. An intensity that meant promise. You were his entire focus, and he did not yield. In a clear voice, he declared, “I do. I do. I do.”

You laughed to keep the tears abated. But you maintained that intense gaze, and breathed, “Azriel. I do, I do, I do, I do, I do I do, I—”

His lips cut you off. He took one stride towards you and wrapped an arm around your waist.

Married.

Just like that, you were married. In your heart—married. He held you to him, and the years apart were nothing. The feel of his hard body—harder than you recalled—was everything right in the world. Safety personified as he held you to him, taking care to be gentle with you. All the unspoken words were heard and felt on your lips. You broke off from his mouth, not seeking to waste a minute longer. “I have… my corset, it’s got so much lacing.”

The bond inside you sang louder than ever. You felt his desire grow, matching yours, strumming on the instrument strung across your chest bones. You turned around, moving your hair out of the way. He rested his warm hands on either side of your waist. He traced them up your back, beginning to gently pull the laces loose, helping you out the corset. Then he pulled apart the ties of your skirts, watching as they pooled at your feet.

You slumped into his body, relishing the reliability, the knowledge that he came back, that he was real. His hands gripped you into him as he began kissing your shoulder. Only your shift separated your body. Turning in his hold, you fisted the hem of his shirt, freeing it from his pants. He yanked it off at the neckline.

His powerful body had packed on even more muscle. He was littered with scars that you ached to trace. Placing your hands on his abdomen, you dragged them upward, trying to permanently etch him into your memory. His chest rapidly rose and fell beneath your fingers. You gazed at him innocently, wanting to remember how his face contorted with pleasure from your touch, from his restraint. His jaw feathered, lips parted, pupils dilated. He bent forward and kissed you again, seizing the opportunity with your craned neck. He was less careful now, pulling you firmer to him. You gasped when a hardness pressed into your stomach. He kissed down your jaw, paying attention to your neck. His kisses were hot, making you gasp and press your legs tighter together.

He reached the juncture of your shoulder, cradling your head to him as he continued his path. Then he pulled the straps of your shift to either side of your shoulders, and let it pool at your feet with the rest of your clothes.

He stepped back, looking down your form with a fervour that made you begin shaking. “You’re beautiful,” he rasped. He pulled you to him by the waist, bending to kiss your throat. Then down your chest, kissing over the bond. He slowly sank to his knees, your hands braced on his shoulders, watching as he continued his path downward. His hands slid down your form, cradling your hips, your thighs.

“I used to think of your little hands,” he said, voice guttural. “Your waist. The way you felt under my hands.”

You ran your hands through his hair, carding your fingernails over his scalp. He groaned, resting his head against your hip as you did.

“Your hands, Azriel. The way you held me. No one’s ever touched me like that before,” you exhaled, sinking to your knees, seeking to kiss him again. At his level, he kissed you so deeply that you began tilting backward. He guided you to the floor, admiring how you looked in the glow of the hearth.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he ground out. He didn’t break your gaze, even as he reached for one of your breasts. Your back arched, writhing when he thumbed your peaked nipple. When your writhing caused your legs to part, he snaked a hand between your thighs, feeling up the creamy skin til he found what he was seeking.

You inhaled sharply as his fingers spread through your wetness, easing some of the aching pressure. You couldn’t help but moan, helpless under his skilled hands as he continued to massage your apex. Then he eased a finger into your entrance, stroking in and out of you. Your head spun, brows pinching together at the euphoria. He studied you closely, your contorting features, how you moved against his hands. He bent down, kissing you, swallowing your moans as you were pulled closer to a precipice. He eased another finger inside, stretching you open as you squirmed. “That’s it,” he spoke breathlessly into your mouth. Then he curled his fingers inside you and you shattered. The climax tore through you, back arching and limbs trembling. He pulled back to watch you fall apart.

When your heaving lessened and you could open your eyes again, he kissed you. You pulled him down by the neck, wanting more of him. He moved from your side to situate himself between your open thighs, bending to rest his weight on his forearms on either side of your head. His body rested over yours. You gasped at the hardness of him pressing at the apex of your thighs. As he kissed you, you reached for the hem of his pants, fussing with them until he helped you remove them.

Utterly bare. He cushioned his length against your wetness, grinding into you while he kissed you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, giving him wider access, urging him on. He finally reached down and guided himself into you.

Your breathless writhing halted. You stared wide-eyed as he pushed the first inch into you, an uncomfortable stretch. He shuddered, jaw clenched as he restrained himself from entering further. His eyes were locked on yours, noting the rigidness, how you held your breath. “Breathe for me, sweetheart,” he spoke tenderly despite the tension in his body.

You inhaled, trying to relax. He kissed you, softly this time. His tongue teased into your mouth, working against yours. When he groaned into your mouth, you relaxed, sighing contently. He continued to kiss you, and when he tried to pull away, you chased him, wanting more. He carefully pushed his length further into you, pausing again. He zeroed in on every reaction you made to his ministrations. He continued to breathe hard, controlling himself despite the pleasure flooding him, despite the urge to sheathe himself. He bit your bottom lip, and the friction of his hard chest against yours made you involuntarily roll your hips further onto his length.

His breath hitched as you tested his endurance. His thorough carefulness heightened your need for him. With the heels of your feet, you began pressing him further into you. He exhaled in relief but tried resisting. “It’s okay,” you whispered. “I want it.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he breathed.

“You aren’t,” you lied.

He shook his head, words failing him in the wake of your tightness.

“Please,” you exhaled.

He studied you before moving his fingers to your clitoris, thumbing at it slowly. You gasped, instinctively rolling further onto him. He continued to sheath himself while his thumb rubbed against you until he bottomed out. He kissed you, holding himself in place. With him fully inside you, there was no space between your bodies. With your arms wrapped around his neck, you pulled him impossibly tighter to you, moaning into his mouth.

When you rolled your hips beneath his, he started to move, pulling back an inch and thrusting back in, working you through the movements. Pleasure overpowered any stinging discomfort as he moved inside you, stroking against spots that made your toes curl. Your back began arching on its own accord as you chased the feeling, holding him like he was going to leave again. His head fell into the crook of your neck, breathing hard against the tight pull of your entrance, how he glided with ease.

That build-up began churning in you again as he sped up his motions. You could hardly breathe, couldn’t think. Beginning, middle, and end—all things were Azriel, Azriel, Azriel. As he moved in you, you could’ve sworn your souls were dancing together, the bond between you one entity that thrummed with life. Your thighs shook from the unbearable pleasure, your head thrown back on the floor. He kissed your neck, pumping into you while your legs tightened around his waist. His audible panting was an erotic rhythm, and when he angled his hips forward on his thrusts, he hit a spot within you that sent you into another spiraling release. You clawed at his back as he continued to move inside you through your climax until you felt a warm wetness release into you, and his hips finally ebbed.

He remained tucked inside, resting his body on yours as you rubbed soothing strokes down his back. Your breathing calmed, heartrates slowing. He released himself from you, making you gasp at the sudden loss. He pulled the throw blanket on the couch, draped it over you, and lay back beside you over the animal skin on the ground. You immediately wrapped yourself into his open arms, laying your head on his chest and bringing the blanket over him as well. He held you to him, kissing your head. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

He continued to stroke your hair, the side of your neck, your back, murmuring softly into your hair as you fought off the lull of sleep. It wasn’t until you felt a distinct sensation of contentment in your chest that you drifted off, to the sound of his voice caressing you. “I’ll be your family. You’ll be my family. And this can be our home.”

You wanted to tell him that he was your home, but the peace he brought you overpowered you, dragging you to sleep.

When you awoke the next morning, you waited for the subdued dread to wash over you as it always did, but all you felt was a warmth in your chest cavity. You arose, taking in the space around you that’s never felt like home as it did now. You spotted your husband in the kitchen, quietly pacing as he heated the food you made the night before.

When his shadows wafted around you, he came to see you. A smile graced his beautiful face as he crouched before you to kiss your temple, muttering a greeting. You reached for your shift, dressing yourself and joining him in the kitchen.

“We forgot to eat last night,” you said.

“We’ll have it right now,” he smiled easily, taking his seat at the table where he’d warmed everything again. Turkey stew. He’s also managed to find some pastries and coffee. You began eating your fill, famished after the strenuous activities the night before. Azriel did not eat, prompting you to pause.

At your questioning gaze, he spoke. “If I eat this meal, that officiates our mating bond.”

Though your heart raced at the notion, you just smiled. “What are you waiting for, then?”

Azriel relaxed, returning your smile, the crinkles by his eyes deepening. You watched as he took a bite of your stew, watched as he ate his entire share. When he set his plate down, exhaling, the glint in his eyes made your flutter. The strum in your chest now felt like an open channel. You pushed an experimental feeling through it. Adoration. He sent it back, and you felt it course through your skin. He beckoned you over, sliding his chair back to make space for you. You padded over, sitting on the table before him. He kissed you, the restrain he’d shown last night a foreign concept. As you pulled him to you by the neck, fisting his hair in your fingers—

There was a knock on the door, halting your actions. You reluctantly pulled away, laughing at the glassy look in his eyes as he forced himself to let you go.

You opened the door, gasping and swinging it wide open at the sight of Lady Rhiannon. You threw yourself into her arms; she laughed, catching you and embracing you. You felt a warm, solid body press into your back as Azriel joined your embrace, wrapping his massive arms around the both of you. “Azriel,” she breathed, and you felt her tears wet the side of your neck as she beheld her adoptive son.

When you pulled away, you wiped her tears like she’d wiped yours countless times. “The boys are at my house. They’re home. That’s all I wanted to say,” she spoke joyfully. The two of you had made it to the end of your own battle. You nodded, promising to be right over as she turned on her heel and made her way back to her awaiting sons.

When you closed the door behind you, Azriel stepped back out of your reach. “We just confirmed our mating bond. If you want to go see the boys, we’ll have to be quick, before the frenzy.” He took another step back, his nostrils flaring, eyes screwing shut like your scent was an aphrodisiac beyond his endurance.

You laughed. Walking over to your pile of clothes leftover from the night before. “I’ll be quick,” you said, yanking on your skirt, pulling your corset over your head, lacing it tight. When you glanced at Azriel, the look of utter and complete desire in his eyes made you laugh again. His hands were fisted at his sides, and he was breathing deeply as he tried to school himself.

“I’ll walk over first, then you can make your way over. If that helps,” you offered.

“Okay,” he said, huffing a laugh at the nature of the situation.

You strapped on your bow and arrow, then blew him a teasing kiss goodbye at the door, laughing as he groaned dramatically. You walked as fast as you could to Rhiannon’s house.

Turning a corner, your bubble of contentment burst when you spotted Lady Rhiannon stopped near her house by a male on a horse. It was Eurymachus.

You walked over, notching an arrow on your bow. “How many times have I told you to leave this camp, Eurymachus?” you said.

His attention slid to you. “Looks like all your waiting was for nothing, Y/N. I see your little lover never made it back from the war. I told you you were waiting on a ghost,” he sneered.

You saw the door to Rhiannon’s house open, but you kept your eyes trained on Eurymachus. Cassian stepped out, sword in hand. “I suggest you heed the Lady’s warning before the High Lord returns.”

Eurymachus jumped, turning abruptly to face Cass, then turned to face you again, disgust on his face. “Are you his female as well? You rejected me for a band of bastard scum?”

“Watch your mouth,” you warned.

“I don’t take orders from whores.”

Cassian threw a dagger and it found its mark in his thigh. He yelped, swinging his sword, dismounting off his horse as it reared. Eurymachus reached for a dagger and threw it clumsily at Cassian. It missed its mark, nicking Rhiannon’s arm. Cassian advanced and they clashed weapons; you gasped, dropping your bow and arrow and ran to the Lady to check on her. Cassian knocked Eurymachus out with a sword to the back of his head, turning to join you at the Lady’s side.

Cassian helped her up with you, but before you could take her into the house, a pit of dread uncoiled itself deep in your gut. You halted, the breath leaving you suddenly. Cassian spotted your wide-eyed stare. “What?” he demanded, searching the surroundings for a threat.

He moved stealthily, so it wasn’t his footfalls that gave him away. But when you instinctively looked back, you spotted Azriel walking toward the scene, a look of calm rage on his face as he took it in. Before you could utter a word, Eurymachus rose from his spot, scrambled for your bow, and shot Azriel.

A ringing noise rose above everything else in the world. Rhiannon’s mouth parted as she screamed, but no sound reached you. Cassian scrambled to reach his brother, but you didn’t hear that either. You also didn’t feel the ground as it suddenly found your body, as the snow wetted your hands.

And worst of all, you couldn’t feel him anymore.

A mockery of the words that were said just hours before. Hours.

The bond in your chest flickering like a dying light.

The arrow jutted out of Azriel’s chest. He sank slowly to his knees, staring wide-eyed. Large, warm hands were the first thing you felt, and you turned in confusion as you felt a body behind yours. Purple eyes swimming with anguish met your own. Rhysand winnowed you closer to him. To your fallen Shadowsinger.

When the world rematerialized, so did your sensations. Rhiannon sobbed, Cassian demanding that Azriel stay awake, Rhysand’s laboured breathing. Cassian turned slay Eurymachus. Rhysand let go of your arms and instead grasped his mother’s gently pulling her away from Azriel who lay on his back.

You knelt beside him, your hands trembling. “No,” you breathed. This couldn’t be real. “No, Az. Please no.” You shuddered as you tried to breathe, to think— “Please don’t go. You just came back.”

You brought your shaking hands to cup his face. Blood was trickling out of his mouth with every breath, quiet agony in his eyes as he tried to wheeze around the arrow in his heart.

“You can’t leave again,” you sobbed. “You’re my home,” you whispered. You leaned over him, resting your mouth on his, crying onto his lips.

Your chest flickered once as Azriel heaved in a final breath. “I love you, Y/N.”

You pressed your lips to his, willing every ounce of love, devotion, yearning, and want down the bond as it slipped through your bones. Azriel’s eyes shut, peace overtaking his features at that last sensation, as your heart utterly shattered. You willed the bond back with all your might, but there was nothing.

You remained there, broken in half, crying over him until warm hands soothed down your back until Rhys picked you up gently off his brother and took you inside the house.

There was no more music in the world. Only vague noises, mutterings of We’ll take care of you, Y/N, don’t worry, and it’s gonna be okay darling, I’m here. All you could process was the stillness inside.

After all that time with your heart stretched across space and time, you found yourself once again, waiting on a ghost.

Two years later

Your friends gathered on a balcony. Soon after Azriel’s funeral, you’d all needed to leave Windhaven, needed to get away from the reminders of his life, of the catastrophe of his loss.

Once again, you’d given away your belongings and found yourself moving, enduring the uprooting that had nothing to do with a physical structure.

It’d taken months for you to speak again. This time there’d been no strum in your chest to help. No hope to be found, because it was too small to make a dent inside you. Until it eventually grew strong enough to be felt.

Your new family helped you. When you finally broke your silent vigil, you’d told them what he was to you. How your bond had snapped into place, how it’d taken seven long years to see through to your mating.

How you’d decreed your wedding in a cottage living room with only the Mother to see.

They’d cried tears of joy and tears of pain at the revelation, at the knowledge that Azriel had found his other half before shattering your heart and leaving you again.

Time went back to being measured through the passage of pain. That first year, you’d missed solstice, missed all celebrations, only enduring what you needed to survive. Not for yourself, but for him.

The hope that he left behind, because even in his absence, Azriel always left an inkling of life inside you, whether it was the strum of an early bond, or a kick against the inside of a womb.

It was Starfall, and the boy that clung to you was now just over a year old.

Your son.

Arion.

He inherited his father’s hazel eyes, his raven hair. He even looked at you with a certain focus that made you want to weep. His name came from an older Illyrian dialect that meant melodious song. Named after the music your bond carried on the wind.

Music that spoke when your lover was rendered silent. Music you only heard in dreams now.

Your son fussed on your hip, anxious to see the brilliance his uncles promised would light the sky. Your family gathered around you in support, in grief and love. When the stars began falling, you held your breath, feeling hints of hope creeping up on you, the feeling both foreign and familiar. “See, Ari?” you asked. “Like Uncle Cass said. Falling stars.”

The boy’s eyes were wide with wonder. He was your medicine, your healing salve. His uncles shuffled closer, supportive hands around your frame as you all hoped for a visit.

Spirits of the fallen Illyrians, their comrades shooting across the sky in death like they did in life.

A celestial body arched close by, stealing your breath away. Like a phantom pain, you felt a rattling in your chest cavity; the ghost of a strum. Rattled by a star while your baby reached forward trying to catch it.

Sapphire starlight freckled Ari’s face, and with the tears distorting your vision, you looked at your son and he looked just like him. The blue glow reflecting in his hazel eyes like the glow of siphons on a Shadowsinger. You released a strained laugh, or perhaps it was a sob, and Ari beamed.

“That was your daddy,” you whispered to your son, smiling through your tears. Ari’s eyes widened further, turning back to watch the stars.

You quietly wept, clutching Ari tighter to you, sending your last farewell to your husband, your mate, your friend down where the bond used to be. I’ll wait for you, you vowed. Waiting on your ghost, in this life until you got to see him again in the next.

Live for the ghost. Live for Az. For Ari.

“Happy Starfall, Ari,” you breathed, smiling at your little musician, the living embodiment of your bond. Then, to your beloved, you sent out to the stars—

Happy Starfall, Azriel. I love you. I do, I do, I do.

taglist: @iimisty-a @feyretopia @aroseinvelaris @cullenswife @reiincarnatiion @sfhsgrad-blog @answer-the-sirens @mrstangerinejohnson @marigold-morelli @courtofjurdan @azriels-mate123 @emotionless-lover @marina468 @slvtherinseeker @owllover123 @banasheefan56 @nyotamalfoy

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel/reader #Azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel spymaster #azriel smut #azriel fanfiction #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel angst #this hurt so fkn bad y'all. not me crying over my own writing. stand up

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sipsandfables · 10 months

Text

Unfiltered Thoughts While Reading: Iron Flame by Rebecca Yarros

⚠️⚠️⚠️ BEWARE! SPOILERS AHEAD ⚠️⚠️⚠️

Chapter 1

If I were Violet, I’d be like “Forget these biscuits and EXPLAIN YOURSELF SIR” 😂

If Brennan survived, then why did Tairn’s old rider die?

“Stop bringing logic into an emotional argument.” Hahaha love Violet

I will say though that if she’s going to be mad at Xaden, she can be mad at Brennan for the same thing

Chapter 2

is this foreshadowing? Will Violet or someone else learn the art of ward building to save them all?

“Weapons are the only things that can win this war” for someone so intelligent, I’ve never heard Brennan say anything more foolish than that

Andarna is a teen 😂

will she go through an emo phase? Hahaha

At least it sounds like her mom wasn’t in on this murder plot

“Fucking Dain.”

Lol agreed

Chapter 4

I love how Dain acts like nothing happened. Like, wtf? Why are you surprised Violet hates you?!

Unless he didn’t know about the plan somehow and we all just assumed he did.

Also, maybe another mind reader read his mind and he didn’t actually tattle? But even if that’s the case, he still read Violet’s memories without her permission this whole school year

Chapter 5

“I’m pleasantly fuddled but not entirely sloshed.”

Lol I’m using that the next time I get drunk

Chapter 6

Violet has more self-control than me. She should have let Xaden stay the night lol

Chapter 7

I knew it! So, less dragons are bonding because of the war and the venin. I wonder if they are bonding with the rebels or just staying out of it completely

Chapter 8

so Aaric is the kings son?! Bold move

And now Liam’s little sister?! This series is going to kill me 😭😭😭

oh shes angry lol

“What in the angry-Mairi was that about?”

Lol I love Rhiannon

“I've danced with Malek more than my fair share over this last year and told him to fuck right off every single time. ”

LOL

Fuck this dragon and fuck Varrish. What. The. Hell.

I’d be so pissed if someone ran after that because that stupid dragon is killing people in the way anyways. Hide ya kids, hide ya wife, they’re flaming everyone up in here.

“If Solas comes near you again, he knows I will devour his human whole and let him rot within me while his heart still beats, and then I'll take the eye I so graciously left him." "That's...graphic."

Tairn has the best threats lol he and Violet were made for each other

Chapter 9

I knew Imogen would grow on me!

Omg I bet the person they’re interrogating is Xaden. He never made it out to his post and it’s why he hasn’t come to see Violet. I just don’t know how they can keep the dragons from each other

“"I can take her," Sloane fires back, white-knuckling her knife, "From what your letter said last year, her joints pop right out. How hard can it be?" "Seriously?" I shoot a reproachful look at Imogen. "I can explain." Imogen puts her hand over her heart, "You see, I didn't like you last year, remember? You're kind of an acquired taste."”

hahahaha I love the banter in this series

OMG!!! Nadine!!! I am NOT okay with how fast characters be dying in this damn series!! 😭😭😭

Chapter 10

I knew this dude was sent by Aetos. So freaking sloppy! And the more this book goes on, the more I think Dain didn’t know about the War Games thing. He’s an annoying prick but I don’t see him being malicious enough to let Violet walk to her death. Plus, I actually don’t recall him shitting on people with a relic. He just seems to hate Xaden lol

Welp, there goes my theory about Xaden being tortured lol

I find it hilarious that Xaden is so obsessed with Violet’s hair lol

Chapter 11

“Coconspirators with a vested interest in keeping each other alive.”

Lol love Imogen. She’s giving me Ron Swanson vibes here with his “work proximity associates” speech 😂😂😂

Banning people from knowledge in order to keep their corrupt secrets from the public is not sustainable. Sure, it drastically slows the distribution of information but the truth always comes out - it’s just a matter of when!

I wonder if the Scribes are translating everything from the old language in order to hide more lies

Varrish grinning at Violet saying “dragons don’t take orders from humans” does not bode well. Has he found a way to control dragons? Or at least influence them with blackmail or something else?

Varrish is such a dick. Like, get a life dude.

Chapter 12

That comment about a blade of grass sticking to Violet was so random.

Chapter 13

This Varrish guy is the worst. He’s like Miss Umbridge from the Harry Potter series

“You wish you were my type. I’m phenomenal in bed.”

Hahahaha I love Imogen. SHE BETTER NOT DIE

Oh no, I bet it’s that freaking survival class test! They’re getting kidnapped!

Chapter 14

Tairn is so sassy and I love it

Obviously, the water is drugged! Have they never read a fantasy novel?!

I adore Ridoc 😍

HE BETTER NOT DIE

You would think there would be more crossover activities and exercises between riders and infantry if they have to work together so much and infantry are expected to work alongside dragons

Chapter 15

Rhiannon is responding to Violet keeping secrets way better than Violet is to Xaden lol She’s like “hey, you’re hiding something and that’s fine but don’t lie about lying” with Violet. And Xaden is like “Honestly, I have secrets I can’t tell but here are all of the intimate details of my life.” Come on Violet! Quit trippin' and get back with Xaden lol

I don’t like the rift going on between Rhiannon and Violet this book. They need each other and it’s annoying lol

Alright 2 things that annoy me about this book so far:

1. The lack of Xaden and Violet scenes 2. Violet being mad at Xaden for keeping secrets from her in order to protect others

Chapter 16

Yesssss, Imogen is spitting facts!!! Hopefully this will convince Violet to let him back in

“I’m still speaking.”

Okay Imogen 👀 She could get it 😏

Oh man, I really hope nothing happens to Rhi’s family and she blames Violet for keeping her in the dark

Of course she misses the interrogation technique class!!! Bad move man

Chapter 18

Theory time: Omg is death what’s powering the wards??? Is that why so many more people are dying at an alarming rate? They need more students to die to power up the wards? And maybe daggers work because they are an instrument for causing death?

“I want you.” All day. Every day.

LOLLL

Omg I love how ride or die Rhiannon is about Violet lol

Who’s soul is Nolon mending?!

Chapter 19

Theory time: Solas’ orange is off and Dain’s dragon's breath stinks because they’re giving the dragons some concoction. Maybe it’s to control them?

“Humans have the memories of gnats. Dragons hold grudges.”

Pearls of wisdom from Tairn lol

Damn it Tairn lol while I love that he put Varrish and Solas in their place, things just got a whole lot worse for Violet 😬

Chapter 20

“Ugh. Let’s go throw knives at shit.”

😂

Has Mira met Imogen? They’d be two peas in a pod lol

I’m also shook that they kill civilians. Wowwwww

Chapter 21

Man, this is starting to feel like Final Destination since all the Resson survivors are dying one by one

“History and current events are tied because one influences the other.”

Interesting foreshadowing

I like Devera and I feel like she’s trying to do the right thing while the rest of leadership goes to shit. Like Professor McGonagall does when Dumbledore is no longer headmaster

“That’s what we’re not going to do.”

You tell em, Devera!

I bet Varrish will be in charge of the torture lessons given his background and he’s going to try to kill Violet

I was JUST wondering where Dain has been. Haven’t heard his holier than thou whining in a while lol

omg I called it in the last book! Her mom gave Xaden those scars! I also still think I’m right about Dain being guilty of being a prick but not of sending his best friend to get murdered

Rhiannon is so smart! She reminds me of Bree from Legendborn 😍

I knew I liked Aaroc/Cam for a reason! Hope he doesn’t die….

Chapter 22

It’s strange that Violet is so bad at remembering names when she studied to be a Scribe her whole life lol

Chapter 23

For some reason, book 2 reads a little more like a YA novel than the first book

HAVE THEY LEARNED NOTHING?! Don’t eat or drink anything!!!

Okay, you didn’t drink but did you eat the jam?!

Ridoc and his snake confession had me cackling

lol I totally thought Ridoc broke first but he was lying haha

I knew fucking Varrish would somehow weasel himself into this training

They’re using Dain? Well hell.

Also, isn’t his signet supposed to be a secret???

Chapter 24

Wait, they’re practicing on civilians?!?! At what point do people wake up and think “hmmm, we’re the bad guys”?

"We should consider quitting the quadrant." Ridoc jokes as we walk over the door and out of the chamber, "We'd be kickass thieves." "With dragons," Sawyer agrees. "Unstoppable," Ridoc says with a grin.

This is giving Six of Crows and I. Am. Here. For. It.

Unlocking doors? hmmmm interesting

Chapter 25

I know exactly who did this! A scribe! It was the person walking in the hood earlier that Violet noticed. I wonder if it’s her friend or someone else

Those statements have to be true - Markham is acting too squirrelly about them

FUCKING JACK IS BACK?!

Idk how I feel about this book now lol like really?

Hundreds of cadets die every year and they spent valuable resources and time to mend him?! What happened to “we let the weak die”?! This is utter bull

Also, Nolon mentioned how hard mending a soul is….it doesn’t sound like Jack has a soul

Chapter 26

I love the nonchalant way Sawyer and Ridoc are ready to murder Jack lol

Chapter 27

Territorial Xaden is the best lollll he’s like who the hell's jacket is that and why isn’t it mine?! 😂

Well, that escalated quickly 👀🔥

Chapter 28

Oh that has to be his ex. The one that Bodhi mentioned

I knew it!

Chapter 29

“Pull yourself together”

Tairn with the tough love 😂😂😂

“I will already know, as I am continuously with you,” he grumbles. “Forced to bear witness to the awkwardness that is twenty one year old humans.”

💀💀💀

I forgot who Professor Kaori is but I love them!!

Chapter 30

FINALLY Violet realizes how hypocritical she was being about Xaden when she tells her friends part of the truth

I bet Andarna is sleeping longer than expected because she’s going to be powerful as hell lol

Holy shit. Too many people die too often in this series. I don’t even remember who Eya is!

Ridoc better not die

Chapter 31

Freaking JACK saved her?!?! What is this rouse?!

I 👏🏾 don’t 👏🏾 trust 👏🏾 him 👏🏾

Let’s go Aaric! Sidebar, I need a novella about him. He sounds hot

Chapter 32

I thought Aaric ‘s brother died in Threshing! Well I guess Xaden could have killed him then lol

There’s no way Nasya sleeps through his post every time. I bet he’s spying on them

Oh Imogen has it taken care of lol good. Also, that’s a badass signet!

Chapter 34

“The birth of iron rain” !?

That sounds ominous

OMG LADY STOP DRINKING THINGS FROM OTHER PEOPLE

Fucking hell. I honestly can’t even feel anger for Nolon’s betrayal because I’m too annoyed with Violet rn lol

Chapter 36

So Dain is finally choosing the right side!

I’m so glad Varrish is dead! He’s the worst lol. Violet will definitely have to watch her back from Solas

Yay! Devera came through!

The secret is out! Finally!

Chapter 37

🌶️🌶️🌶️

Chapter 38

Andarna is back!!! Yayyy!

I bet this “blood magic” means sacrifice! they have to kill people to build a new ward

I knew Mira would punch Brennan after seeing him for the first time haha

Chapter 39

The 6 strongest riders: Caden, Felix, suri, bodhi, violet, Brennan - I’m surprised Mira isn’t one

Chapter 40

I do think Violet is a little slow on the uptake when it comes to understanding her power which is surprising since she’s so smart

I’m excited about this sibling trip lol

Chapter 41

“Fuck it. We don’t need a luminary.”

Mira is a whole vibe lol

Cat is the worst and Violet is annoying me by listening to her lol Xaden is obsessed with you girl - ignore this jelly belly lady

Well that explains why Violet was trippin' hahaha wasn’t her fault

Chapter 43

yeah I agree - allowing people to die on the parapet is unnecessary lol

Holy shit ! This entire hike is stressful as fuck!

RIDOC!!!

Chapter 45

“The problem with mankind is we too often find our souls to be a fair price for power.”

Chapter 47

I hope Violet kicks Cat’s ass and makes it embarrassing for her lol

Chapter 48

Well that was hawt lol

Xaden talking shit about Dain will never get old lol

The way Xaden feels about Violet reminds me of Rowan to Aelin because his love isn’t conditional and based on if she’s “good” - “If you’re a monster, I’m a monster” (Queen of Shadows)

Xaden is very swoon-worthy lol

Chapter 49

I feel like it’s always Sawyer pitching the idea to just kill an annoying enemy (Cat, Jack, Varrish) and I’m here for it 😂

HE BETTER NOT DIE

oh no….am I starting to find Dain not so bad? Lollll

Chapter 52

Theory time: I really think these nightmares are real - somehow the Sage is communicating with Violet through her dreams Theory Time: I bet she gets captured or agrees to go to the head Sage by the end of this book to set up the next book

Oh god, I really hope an attack doesn’t occur while they’re on this training mission and then Violet feels responsible for not putting up the wards sooner 😬

Chapter 53

Violet must be thinking of Xaden and how he might go mad since his dragon was previously bonded with someone in his direct line

Fucking Solas. I almost forgot about this enemy!

Chapter 54

Honestly I’m surprised she doesn’t have more enemies since if you kill her, you essentially kill 4 beings in one swoop

Andarna is a badass

Chapter 55

No lie, this fight between Xaden and Violet is a little silly and getting exhausting

Ah, I came to the wrong conclusion about Xaden and his bond with Sgaeyl

Chapter 56

Omg is Xadens second signet mind reading? That would explain a lot. It would also explain why he’s scared to share since they execute people with that signet

Called it!!! I’m glad her response was not immediately “I don’t love you anymore”

Now I need to reread these books to see when he reads her mind. Oh man, I hate to say it but it kind of sounds like what Dain did to her last year

hmmmm, that was too easy lol

Ugh, we’ve been here before - Violet discovers a big secret about Xaden right before some war conflict and they’re fighting in the midst of chaos. Not sure I’m a fan that it’s a repeat of the last book lol

Chapter 57

well I’m glad Cat has stopped being a twat and decided that focusing on saving the continent is the way to go over petty squabbles over an ex lol She reminds me of Lysandra but in a good way lol

I think the trouble with the writing of their relationship is that Xaden is so amazing and their relationship is so magnetic that their conflicts feel forced. The obstacles they face within their relationship are hard to develop when Xaden is always saying the right things after they fight lol Not that I’d want it any other way - but I think that’s why I’m struggling with not rolling my eyes when they get into arguments. Violet deserves to be angry about the betrayal but then it just feels like her decision on what she’ll do next about them takes FOREVER and it feels like it’s dragged out across a whole ass book.

Omg did Brennan come?! Is he announcing his “undeadness”?!

Violet immediately wants Xaden to use his secret signet on the others? I don’t disapprove at all but that better mean she will forgive him swiftly lol

It isn’t in Violet to NOT help innocent civilians if she can.

“I love you enough to bear the weight of your disappointment.”

Total mom sacrifice right there!

I need a novella of their mom and dad and how they got together lol

Chapter 58

If I were with the Rebellion, I’d agree to help Navarre on the condition that they make it public knowledge that Venin are real and they’ve been lying to citizens for centuries in order to keep a specific amount of citizens safe - that way, they’re not leaving innocents to die AND if they all survive the battle at Solstice, the rebels will walk away with an additional win (the entire continent knowing the truth)

am I the only one who visualize white walkers from GOT when I read about the venin in this book? Lol

Alright let’s go!!! Way to not turn into the enemies!

Chapter 59

What is with Andarna’s scale colors?! Their changing colors have been mentioned all book - I wonder what’s the significance? Is she a rainbow dragon?! That would be dope lol

Jack's dragon's eyes are weird? Another reference to dragons seeming off! I bet they’re controlling it! But who would want the wards to fail? Who is Jack in league with if Varish is dead? IS Varish even dead?! Did freaking Nolon bring him back to life like he did with Jack?!

What the heck?! Did Jack become venin?! Why did he slaughter his own dragon?!?

Chapter 60

I knew he became venin! But didn’t realize it was for SO LONG!

Well, everything is going to hell in a hand basket

“Fucking Jack.”

Ain’t that the truth lol

There’s no way this battle is in this book, there’s not enough pages left!!!!

Chapter 61

Can Andarna turn invisible??!

I’m so stressed lol

Chapter 62

Omg is Andarna a chameleon?!

Chapter 63

Theory time: Andarna is head of the seventh den of dragons! This is why she’s so unique. She’s not actually black like Tairn . I bet she’s one of one making her the head of her den. It would make sense since she’s an orphan

Add-on to the theory: I think both journals are right but describe it differently. Warrick says six AND the one that combines all which must be what Andarna is since she’s always changing colors. Lyra’s journal says seven because it combines the six and the one

Good thing Andarna can make fire now!

Chapter 64

Not a Liam letter 😭😭😭

This heartfelt moment between Andarna and Violet is everything.

The way that Andarna looks up to Tairn gives me all the feels

What about Sloane?! Can she somehow reverse her power and GIVE instead of siphon?

Ah yep, apparently she can.

Her mom is going to sacrifice herself! 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Chapter 65

I’m honestly surprised Xaden killed the main sage. I figured he’d be a bigger part of the storyline

Don’t tell me Xaden is also now Venin?! 😭

NOOOOO 😭😭😭

Sgaeyl is pissedddd

Chapter 66

OMG WERE THOSE XADENS DREAMS THE WHOLE TIME?!

I can’t recall if Violet only had the nightmares when she slept near Xaden 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I am unwell.

#iron flame #fourth wing #fourth wing review #xaden #xaden riorson #violet sorrengail #book review #iron flame review #rebecca yarros

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acourtofmarvels · 1 year

Text

Miracle

Azriel x OC

Summary: Azriel's mate is Rhysand's sister. She died a long time ago by the hand of the High Lord of the Spring court. Something happens when the Inner Circle goes to Hybern...

(I should point out this is my first time ever posting something I wrote on Tumblr. I have wrote things before on Wattpad, thought I'm not very good. This is short but I hope at least one person likes it lol.)

I changed the ending of ACOMAF sorry not sorry. I liked the idea of this fic lol

Warnings: uh, murder and violence? (did i do this right?)

Word count: 2647

Azriel was never the same when she died. None of them were. She was family. A sister. A cousin. A best friend. His mate.

She was taken from them in such a surprise. The High Lord of the Spring court took her and her mother, for what? Hatred? Maliciousness? Out of pure evil?

Rhysand got revenge for his sister and mother. Azriel got his revenge for the woman who raised him, and his mate. Alongside the High Lord of the Night Court, who lost his life that day too.

Killing the High Lord and his sons, except for one.

Azriel and Rhiannon didn't find out they were mates for about 100 years. It was a shock to both of them. They never had the chance to accept the bond before she was killed.

"Tell me about her," Feyra whispered, running her fingers up and down her mates bare chest. Rhysand didn't talk much about his sister. None of the inner circle did. It was too hard on them. No one even mentioned her name, especially not in front of Azriel.

Rhysand had told Feyre what happened to his sister and mother long ago. And Feyre talking about Elain and Nesta reminded him of her.

Rhysand smiled as he remembered her. "She was kind, selfless. Stubborn and hard headed," he chuckled a bit. The sound of his laugh warmed Feyre's heart. "Her and Cassian were much alike. The two of them were always causing mischief. It drove our mother crazy..." Rhysand paused, trying not to get choked up. "She was strong. Hell of a fighter. We taught her everything we knew. Illyrian women weren't meant to be fighters long ago, thats why most of them got their wings clipped."

Just the mention of what they use to do in the past made his blood boil. He took a deep breath to contain his anger. "Father never wanted her to fight either. But everyday after training I would come home and teach her everything i learned that day. Didn't matter how tired and sore I was. And she would do it perfectly. Never faulting. She loved to fly. Father never clipped her wings but he didn't want her flying either. I always went with her or covered for her when she wanted to."

"Can I ask about her and Azriel?" Feyra was nervous to ask about the two of them. She knew they were mates but never got a chance to accept the bond.

Rhys moved the hair out of her face, staring down and admiring her. He loved that she got him to talk about Rhiannon again.

And he nodded simply at her question.

"Why didn't they accept the bond?"

"They were going to. There was going to be a wedding. Mother even made her dress. But then she... " He couldn't talk about her death.

"I don't know when the bond snapped into place for them but the night Azriel came to tell me, I knew something was off with him. I have never EVER seen Azriel that scared and nervous. Azriel is so good at hiding his emotions but that night..." A huge smile was on his face as he remembered. "I thought Az was going to shit his pants right in front of me."

"But I was so happy for them. Two important people in my life becoming mates... I envied Azriel for a while. That he found his person. I wanted that." Tears welded up in his eyes as he looked down at Feyre. He lifted her up so he could place a kiss upon her lips. "Now I have and when I look at him I... I feel guilty. His mate his gone."

"I understand. I feel it sometimes too. How can I be so happy when others are not? How is it fair?"

"We never got a proper sending for them. We never got their wings. I-I don't even know what he did with them." As Rhys began to cry all Feyre could do was hold him. She herself cried for her mate, feeling the pain he was feeling through the bond.

Azriel smelled it the second they entered the castle. He knew that intoxicating scent anywhere. No matter if it had been centuries, he would never forget. It had to be old. He knew she had been here before. Just two times in the past with Cassian for whatever mission it had been.

Azriel almost got sick to his stomach when they finally saw it. Right above the cauldron, pinned to the wall like a trophy... Her glorious wings.

Everyone knew who they belonged to the second they got there. Somehow Feyre even figured it out, never even knowing her.

"The trap was so easy, I'm honestly a bit disappointed you didn't see it coming." Faster than any of them could see, Jurian fired a hidden ash bolt through Azriel's chest. Mor screamed.

They had no choice but to go with the king.

***

"They are beautiful... Illyrian wings. I just had to get some for myself." The King smiled evilly. "I have your father to thank for that." He directed it that to Tamlin. He motioned his soldiers to remove the wings from the wall.

What more could he do? Azriel is dying. Cassian's wings shredded. He's turned the Archeron sisters into Fae. He plans to turn the human queens too.

"Daemati are hard to come by nowadays. Your sister was also one, wasn't she Rhysand?" None of them dared to move. Rhysand said nothing, curling his fingers into fists. "Daemati are powerful. To have one at my hands..." He ran his dirty fingers down the wings. He snatched them from his guards and without blinking he threw them into the cauldron.

The room filled with a piercing screech and a blinding light from the cauldron. The room shook as if there were an earthquake. When he light faded everyone stared at the cauldron, waiting. Just waiting to see what happened next.

Then it happened. A hand shot out, followed by another as a figure pulled themselves out of it. The King of Hybern smiled wickedly as his plans were coming all together.

Everyones eyes were wide, even the Kings own men were shocked. The woman who submerged out of the cauldron, a ghost, but never forgotten. Her eyes completely white and fogged over. Not a single emotion on her face.

"Come," The King's voice echoed, ordering the female to him.

"Rhia," Rhysand choked out. His sister didn't even look at him. She just went and stood by the King of Hybern, doing exactly as he said as if she were a puppet, and he were the puppet master. "Rhiannon, please. It's me." Rhys was pleading with his sister. To look at him. To show something, anything. Was it really her?

Mor screamed her name through her sobbing. With whatever strength he had, Cassian had to hold her back. He couldn't risk the King of Hybern hurting her too. Cassian pleaded for her also. But none of them could snap her out of whatever spell the cauldron put her under.

"Rhiannon," Azriel's voice was barely a whisper. He was going in and out of consciousness. Feyre watched as the white light flickered for just a second in her eyes.

"Call to her again," Feyre said to Azriel only.

"Rhiannon," Azriel said as loud as he could. Feyre saw that her eyes flicker again. Again, she spoke. "I love you, Rhiannon."

And just like that, her eyes turned back to her normal glowing purple and her hands were around the King's throat, her entire body pinning him down to the ground. Rhysand, Mor and Feyre, the only ones not completely hurt were up to their feet in an instance to fight off the soldiers running to their king.

"You will never be a god," Rhiannon hissed, squeezing onto the Kings neck as hard as she could until his head was separated from his shoulders.

She stood up slowly, rolling her shoulders back and cracking her neck. She turned around to see her family, dripping in blood but all alive.

Rhia looked down at her bloody hands, to her arms, her legs. Her body was completely bare. Her skin still glistening from the liquid of the cauldron. She was alive. She flexed her wings out as she realized she had them back.

She looked down at the ground, seeing Cassian and Azriel. Both of them bleeding out and barely alive. Her eyes met her brothers. He was the last thing she saw before she blacked out.

***

Rhiannon awoke with a gasp, clutching onto her chest, body flailing around in the bed she was in. She began to calm down once she realized where she was. Though the room was different, she recognized the townhouse anywhere. She couldn't remember how she got here or what happened. Darkness. She remembered darkness. How long has it been?

She looked around the room, only now noticing the many people sleeping on the floor and in the chairs. Cassian was hanging off the couch in the room, Mor opposite of him, her feet basically kicking him in the face. Below them layed her brother on a mattress, a woman unfamiliar to her tangled beside him. To their left was Amren, arms crossed over her chest and her head hanging back as she was asleep in the chair.

As she looked to her right she finally saw him. He was using his arm as a pillow as he was sitting in a chair but laying his head on the side of the bed she lay. She reached out to him, his shadows wrapped around her fingers. His eyes shot open and he sat up quickly. She gasped and jumped back, eyes wide.

They stared at each other for what felt like minutes but was only seconds. Azriel made the first move as he grabbed her hand, winnowing them out of the bedroom and downstairs away from the sleeping others.

Images of what happened circled in her mind as she began to remember what happened in Hybern. "I heard you," Was the first thing she said, a sob escaping her mouth. Azriel placed his scarred hands on the sides of her face, tears rolling down his face.

"You were here and I still couldn't believe it. Madja said you may never wake up. It's been weeks. We never gave up on you. I never left your side. I'll never leave your side again." They held onto each other for a long moment, taking in this moment. Azriel dreamed of holding her in his arms every night. Against all odds, against everything, his dream came true. His mate was alive.

There was a loud thud upstairs making Rhiannon jump out of Azriel's embrace. Running, loud, footsteps shook the house as multiple people ran down the stairs. Azriel grabbed hold of her again, needing that closeness.

"Fucking move, Cas!" Was the first thing she heard from her brother as him and Cassian fell off the bottom two steps. Rhysand pushed Cassian's body off of him, looking up at his sister. Matching smiles came upon their faces as Rhysand jumped to his feet, pulling her out of Azriel's grip and into his arms.

"I thought I lost you forever," Rhys whispered into his sisters hair, kissing the top of her head. He pulled away just looking at her face. They're matching violet eyes both filling with tears.

"I couldn't save her," She shook her head. "I fought so hard Rhys. If not save myself then save her."

"I know, I know." Rhys soothed her, stroking his hand down the back of her hair. Rhys found the aftermath of the people who took them. There was at least 20 dead Spring Court soldiers. He and his brothers trained her well. "You're safe now."

"Okay, my turn!" Rhysand was pulled away from Rhiannon harshly. She let out a yelp as Cassian picked her up and spun her around the room.

"Easy, Cass. Don't break her." Amren barked behind him.

He set her down to her feet, kissing her cheeks and forehead. A goofy smile on his face. "I missed you too, Cassian." She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek also.

"Simmer down, Az. You're stinking up the room." Mor joked, making everyone else laugh. "Jealousy isn't a good look on you."

"Aw, Azzy you want a kiss too," Cassian reached for Az, only to get punched in the gut.

"Finally, come here my sweet," Mor laughed, pulling Rhia to herself now. Kissing her cheeks just as Cassian did. Everyone finally got their hugs and kisses with Rhiannon. Most going back for seconds. Even Amren wanted a hug.

Azriel always had to be right beside her, needed to be touching her always. Wether that was a gentle hand at the lower part of her back, or holding onto her hand.

"Rhia there is someone I want you to meet." Rhysand held his hand out to the woman who had been quietly observing the reunion from the side. "This is Feyre. My mate."

Rhia almost began to cry again but she held it back. "Your mate?" Rhysand's smile was so big. "You found your mate." She placed a gentle hand on her brothers face, seeing how happy he was just by the mention of the female.

Feyre waited patiently for Rhia to acknowledge her first. Rhiannon approached Feyre slowly. This was it. This is the moment Feyre had been nervously thinking about for the past few weeks.

"You're so beautiful," Rhia beamed, a bright smile on her face. Feyre and Rhys both let out a sigh of relief. Rhiannon's eyes immediately went down to the tattoo covering Feyre's arm. Her eyes wide at realizing what it meant. "High-" Her sentence was cut off short by Feyre hugging her.

"It is an honor to meet you." Feyre said to her. Everyone laughed at the look on Rhia's face, certainly not expecting that.

"The honor is mine, my High Lady." Rhia did a small bow to her, before taking Feyre's hands in hers. "I've always wanted a sister."

"Hey! What about me?" Mor barked loudly, making everyone laugh.

"Just ignore her, I have no idea who she is." Rhia 'whispered' to Feyre.

"Alright just cause you came back to life and shit, and this is easily the happiest day of my life, doesn't mean I won't kick your ass." Mor jumped toward Rhia who started to run away laughing loudly.

That laugh. That laugh is music to everyone's ears.

"Mother save us," Amren muttered, shaking her head.

As the moment came by, Azriel grabbed his mate, shielding her from Mor. A rare smile on his face.

"Ha!" Rhia laughed, pointing at Mor who couldn't get past Azriel's wings.

"So not fair." Mor pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. "You can't hide behind him forever. He'll have to walk away at some point."

"Who says I'm ever leaving her side?" Azriel challenged. Mor rolled her eyes dramatically.

"So are we gonna be planning a wedding soon?" Cassian spoke up, wiggling his eyebrows and sending a wink at Rhia.

She suddenly got nervous, stepping out from behind him so they could face each other. "Do you still... Do you still want to accept the bond?" Rhia didn't know how long it had been she she died, but she knew it had been a couple centuries. What if Azriel found someone else? What if he's already married and fallen in love with someone else?

It was if Azriel could see exactly what was going on in her mind. Maybe he felt her sense of nervousness and fear through the bond.

"I have loved only you for centuries, and I will love you for many more." Azriel cupped her face in his hands, pressing a kiss to her lips. "I am yours, forever."

"And I am yours."

Acotar Masterlist

#azriel x oc #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar imagine #acotar #cassian #rhysand #a court of thorns and roses

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