#erilea x reader

[thewulf]

Would you please write something with Dorian Havilliard? I’m begging you, there’s nothing out there 😔✊

Maybe an angst with fluff or whatever you want is ok

Thanksss!!! 💗

King Dorian Havilliard will ALWAYS have my heart. The worst part of KOA is no closure between him and Manon like give me more!!!

But yes, I absolutely can do this for my fav King. I can come up with something or if you/anyone has anything more specific in mind please let me know :)

[utterlyotterlyx]

A Ballad of Storm and Shadow

Azriel x F!Reader

Part Three

Summary - Rhys had been content in taking the darkest secret of his family to the grave, but when the threat of Hybern increases, he has no choice but to send a message to another world and pray to the Mother that his call is answered.

Warnings - fluff, mentions of blood, mentions of war, pining

Part One Part Two

This is a crossover series, some aspects will differ from that in the books. Physical attributes are described in this fic, it is essential to the storyline of the character

"Would you mind not staring at my sisters ass, Azriel?"

The smug words of Rhys pulled the Shadowsinger from his thoughts, of what he'd never be able to divulge, but he was certainly pulled from them unwillingly. With red threatening to tinge his cheeks, Azriel uttered a silent apology, unaware that his eyes had been so trained on the backside of Rhys' queen sister.

That morning, Cassian had awoken with far too much confidence, patting y/n on the head and telling her that he'd go easy on her if she asked nicely, to which she had simply hummed and smirked in reply, her eyes finding Rowan across the room swimming with faux annoyance as he passed another grape between his lips, scowling at Aelin when she asked him if he'd like some birdseed instead.

So when y/n sauntered into the Peregryns training grounds clad in a tight black second skin, did Cassian realise that he had most certainly underestimated her, and his thoughts were confirmed by the wicked smiles of Rowan and Aelin who were perched upon a nearby rock. It seemed as though Cassian's challenge had reached the ears of Helion and Eris, both of whom had decided to join the group on the training grounds that morning.

Helion was slightly unnerved by y/n's lack of interest in him the night before; he had gone to spend time with the Inner Circle that he adored so dearly, especially the males within it, but found himself completely awestruck by the Fae Queen before his eyes, an exact mirror to the High Lord of the Night Court but darker in ways that threatened to make him salivate.

Her attention was completely held by her brother the evening before, they spent hours telling stories of their lives, the good and bad, the funny and heart-breaking, and by the end of it the pair seemed rather inseparable. It was Aelin who had to remind them that their presence within Prythian wasn't permanent, that y/n had a people and land to return to in Erilea, and that fact dampened her mood somewhat, so much so that she took herself to bed not long afterward.

It wasn't like y/n didn't want to return to Erilea, or home if you could even call it that, but she wished to stay with her brother in her homeland for as long as she possibly could. Even with her mother, y/n had always felt out of place, like she never truly belonged there, but the moment her eyes connected with those of her brother, the one who used to read her to sleep when she was a babe, did she feel her soul settle.

"You look a little scared Cass," Mor shouted across the ring that y/n had stepped into, hair unbound and swaying at her hips, feathered wings that rivalled the Peregryns own folded neatly behind her back.

Azriel wasn't the only one who seemed to agree with the second skin she wore, noting how it hugged her hips and curved around her breasts perfectly, like it had been moulded to her body and was made for her and her alone. Eris also enjoyed looking at her, and he was far less polite about it than Azriel was.

"No," Cassian huffed, securing the leather of his fingerless gloves around his wrists and rolling his shoulders, "She doesn't even have a weapon."

Cassian's confidence was torn apart by Rowan's laugh, a hearty thing that erupted from his lips which had him almost keeling over on the spot, "Sorry, sorry," he breathed through his laughter, waving a hand in the air and stealing Cassian's attention away from y/n's darkening eyes, "It's just how you think she needs a weapon to end your existence is hilarious to me."

During Cassian's confusion, y/n prowled around the ring, head tilted as her violet orbs assessed each and every muscle and curve, how each one contracted and moved like water rushing around a riverbend. By the time Cassian turned to face his partner for the morning, there was little to no time to stop her onslaught, y/n slid between his legs, grasping his ankles with her fingers and swept the ground from beneath his feet.

Within moments the Lord of Bloodshed had risen to his feet, bouncing back and forth on the balls of them, "That's cheating," he scolded, and y/n simply shrugged and twirled a strand of her raven hair around her finger.

"Distractions get you killed. I thought that you'd be wise enough to know that, considering you're a big tough Illyrian warrior," her voice was low and sultry, violet orbs peered from beneath her lashes and she moved around the edge of the ring, each step sending shockwaves through the dirt.

With nostrils flaring, Cassian paced across the ring, and Azriel watched her heels dig into the ground as he reached for her. Nothing in the universe would have given Cassian the agility to be able to capture y/n, every time he turned she'd slip between his legs or under his arms, or winnow half way across the training ground and taunt him to approach her.

Once he finally landed a single blow to her ribs, although by pure luck, she returned it with three perfectly synced kicks to his knees, abdomen, and then face, the power in her legs sending him sailing through the crisp morning air, and he landed in the dirt with a heavy thud, skidding to the edge of the ring where Helion stood choking back a smirk.

Looking upward, Cassian seethed at the grin on Helion's face, his lips contorting into a growl as he pushed himself up to stand, swirling on his feet to find y/n not even breaking a sweat and instead leaning against Aelin idly picking at her nails. Unphased. Unbothered.

"Amren," he strained, and the firedrake moved to his side, leaving her place by the rack of weapons standing toward the mouth of the ring, "Spear. Now."

Amren smirked and sauntered over to the rack, coiling her fingers around a beautifully crafted oak spear with a tip of jagged glass and throwing it to Cassian whose eyes remained unmoving from the Fae Queen before his eyes.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Rhys' eyes danced with wonder, and he spoke, to Azriel or Feyre or anyone who would listen, "This is going to be interesting."

Azriel couldn't help but notice how everyone's orbs had become fixated upon y/n, the one who had sent the Lord of Bloodshed crashing into the ground with not much effort at all. She dragged her gaze across the spear in Cassian's hands, her eyes widening with a sickening delight as she craned her head to whisper something to Rowan, her lips moving slow and sure.

Not long after she had withdrew her whisper from her companion, Rowan pushed himself from the rock and reached behind him to retrieve two twin blades, curved and sharp and gleaming in the early morning sunlight. Rowan handed the blades to y/n, nodding once to her as she twirled them between her fingers to assess the weight of the weapons, balancing them on her fingers, throwing them up in the air and catching them with ease.

"Don't hold this against me," she spoke aloud, her voice drifting to Rhys in knowing that she was about to harm the general of his armies.

The pair circled one another, Cassian's knuckles turning white around the beam, and y/n's fingers holding steady and true.

Cassian lunged first, and y/n expertly dodged his attack by sweeping away from him like a phantom wind, rounding on the pads of her feet to face him again as he turned. The tension was suffocating, and it seemed as though y/n was tired of his lunges and feeble attempts to knock her off of her feet. So she ascended upon his position, knocking every jab of his spear away with the fortified muscle of her forearm, hair swaying in the breeze and feet dancing closer and closer to Cassian until he was at her complete mercy.

Y/N moved gracefully, feline almost, her arms moved like the wind, adjusting their course when necessary, and she brought her taut fury down upon Cassian, slicing through his leathers and drawing blood from his shoulders and thighs; and when Cassian dropped her to the ground, she simply rose to her knees and curled on them, dragging her blade right across his midsection before coiling her legs around his own and rolling him beneath her.

With the blood coated blade pressed against his bobbing throat, y/n asked sweetly, "Do you yield?"

Panting, and knowing there was no way of winning, not when bloodlust danced in her violet orbs, Cassian breathed, "I yield."

Rising to her feet, y/n offered a hand to Cassian which he took albeit tentatively, and she hauled him to his feet, the muscles in her thighs rippling as she did and steadied his weight against her, "Remind me to never underestimate you again."

Biting back a laugh, y/n motioned to Helion, knowing that his healing touch was what Cassian needed, "I don't think you'll ever need a reminder." Helion gladly removed Cassian from y/n's grip, sending her an impressed smirk and a curt bow of the head before moving the Lord of Bloodshed elsewhere so that he may be able to begin healing him.

Ruffling her wings, y/n turned to Rowan who wore a proud smile, so wide that his gleaming canines could be seen from across the training ring, "I knew I taught you well."

There was a tone of adoration in his words, Azriel noticed, but not romantic, it was the type of adoration you'd find in the words of family, "You did," y/n admitted, walking into his open arm and allowing it to drape over her shoulder whilst Aelin barked on about how that wasn't even a real show of y/n's true power.

"How does someone even fight like that?" Azriel asked himself, catching the beaming smile and calming eyes searching the space, connecting with his own and sending him a subtle wink.

Rhys, nudging into Azriel slightly, spoke lightly, in total awe of what he had just witnessed, a part of him never thinking such a display of raw power and strength was possible, "She grew up in a world where such ability is needed. Mother above."

"Do I even want to know what she's faced to be able to fight like that?" Feyre asked in a whisper, eyes trained on the trio bickering by the rock formation at the edge of the ring now coated with Cassian's blood.

"Yes," Azriel answered too quickly, unable to move his gaze away from her whilst knowing that both Rhys and Feyre were exploring his face with knowing eyes and grins, "I want to know everything."

Though, before Azriel could cross the ring, the same ring that he would have usually infiltrated to save his brother, Rowan and Aelin had taken her away, gently nudging y/n back toward the Dawn Court Palace that loomed in the distance. And Azriel knew in that moment that he would do anything he could to get her alone, if only to know who she was under the mask that she wore.

The second meeting had passed without any other issues, and y/n had watched each and every High Lord make their statements and desires known whilst she and her cadre watched on, waiting for another spectacle to occur like it had at the meeting prior.

And y/n was surprised when the attitudes and composure of the men before her had eddied to calm and stoic. Cassian winced with every movement he made, most of the damage had been tended to, but the bruises to his skin and ego wouldn't be disappearing any time soon.

"And what is it that you want?" Aelin nudged an idly drifting y/n at the question sent her way by Thesan, "For your assistance in this war. What is it that you want?"

Glancing to Aelin and Rowan, y/n straightened in her seat, "I want no lands of titles, there is nothing material that this world could offer us that we don't already have," it was selfish really, her desired gain from a war that would kill thousands, "All I ask for is the blessing to come and go from this world as we please. My brother is here, as is his family, and I wish to be a part of that as well as my own. In return, there are materials in my lands that don't exist here, we can provide you with weapons, and train you in our fighting and healing techniques. We seek an alliance to last until eons after we are all dust. We have seen too much war and bloodshed and loss," Aelin smiled sadly, "We seek harmony."

"A Queen indeed," Helion drawled with a smile, knowing that all she had said was as true as it could be, "Is that all? You could beckon a husband? Perhaps a High Lord?"

As fast as it came and went, Azriel noticed the lightening glance she stole toward him, and she spoke, in a voice like a glorious storm, "I think you'll find that Lords cower before me. My match is someone who welcomes the darkness, someone who is not and will never be afraid of what it holds," y/n's fingers curled around the arms of her chair, and she continued, "To be able to see my brother whenever I wish is all I want, yes."

Thesan dragged his orbs around the room, seeing no objections from the eyes meeting his stare, "Your desire is our honour to grant."

"Thank you."

The second meeting of the summit concurred, and the High Lords and their companions and lovers took their time speaking their farewells. Helion strode up to y/n last, appreciating her figure in the strapless taupe gown she adorned which was glittered in a million crystals, shining dimly in the light from their dwindling sizes; he took her hand in his, noting the length of her talons, and pressed his lips to her knuckles, "It was a pleasure laying eyes on you," he told her gently, his warmth spreading across her skin, "I suppose I'll see you on the battlefield."

"That you will. Try not to gawk, you may end up six feet under."

Helion backed away with a smirk, still facing the exquisite woman before his amber orbs, "I won't make promises that I cannot keep, Your Majesty."

Then he left, taking his clan with him after one final goodbye to Rhys. Aelin appeared at y/n's side, staring after Helion with a feline wonder in her eyes, "I bet you anything that he's a firecracker in bed."

"Aelin," y/n scolded whilst trying to contain a grin, knowing that the thought had passed through her mind rather shamelessly the night prior.

"Don't scold her," Rowan drawled from her other side, he too peering at the retreating High Lord, "She's not wrong."

"Remind me to bring Aedion and Lorcan next time," she barrelled her fists into either of their arms, noticing the High Lords leaving one by one, "I suppose we should be leaving too."

Aelin titled her head slightly at the tone of defeat and longing in y/n's mouth, glancing to Rowan who nodded once to his mate in agreement to her silent thoughts.

"Perhaps it would be a wise idea if you stayed," Aelin twirled a strand of y/n's raven hair in her fingers, her sentence had caught the attention of an already eagerly awaiting Inner Circle, and they moved to the trio without invitation.

"But, Doranelle-"

"Will be fine," Aelin motioned between her and Rowan, "We will ensure it, and I'm sure Manon would love to play queen for a bit," sensing y/n's apprehension, Aelin continued, "We are not leaving you, and you are not abandoning your people. Our nations are one, it will be alright."

Azriel moved to y/n's side, his shadows peppering her wings with their wonder causing them to rustle slightly with silent delight, and Azriel felt the waves of comfort pour from her, "When was the last time you saw Velaris?"

Turning to face the Shadowsinger, y/n clearly already knew the answer to the question, "It's been too long," her eyes swam with the lost time, and Azriel gingerly settled a hand beneath her elbow, a crutch to do what it was that she wished, and offered her a gentle smile, and she returned it, "Are you sure?" Y/N turned back to Aelin and Rowan who both nodded, "And if you need me-"

"We'll get Lorcan to pull on the bond," Rowan rolled his eyes playfully and closed the gap between him and y/n, pressing his lips into her hairline before taking a step backward, "Live, y/n. Embrace whatever time you have, it's a gift.""

Bond.

Did y/n have a mate?

Azriel's mind swam with possibility, but his marred fingers did not once leave her skin, not for even a moment, "Alright, but prepare yourselves for the arguments once you return without me," y/n waved her fingers and a rippling portal appeared upon the steps where they stood, showing a land of rolling hills and white mountains awaiting beyond.

Pointing a long finger to Rhys, Aelin with a tone of warning spoke, "Look after her."

"Such a mother hen, Aelin," the blonde haired queen rolled her eyes as she stepped to the edge of the portal, dragging Rowan with her.

"No, that's him," and before Rowan could retort in his usual dry fashion, Aelin pulled him through the portal and sent y/n a singular wink as the portal rippled smaller and smaller, until it had vanished completely.

Turning to face Azriel, still feeling his touch against her skin and soul, y/n moved her gaze to Rhys, not moving, not wanting to be away from the comfort of Azriel for even a moment, "So, Velaris then?"

Rhys smiled, taking a step toward his sister, "It's missed you."

"How do you know?"

Shrugging, Rhys spoke with knowing eyes, "You'll see," he offered a hand to her, partly to be able to winnow her into the City of Starlight, but also to get her away from Azriel for a moment, already sensing the Shadowsinger's obsession growing.

"I'd like to fly. It's been awhile since I've been able to stretch my wings," and as if sensing the wind in their feathers, her wings unfolded to reveal the most beautiful set of wings Azriel had ever seen. They were as dark as the night itself, glossed with a thousand stars, and the apex of the one million layered fathers stretched upward to the ceiling.

Before Rhys could offer his guidance, Azriel cut through his thoughts, "I can accompany you, if you'd like?"

With a glitter in her eyes, y/n accepted Azriel's offer and allowed him to guide her outside to one of the balconies encrusted around the duomo of the palace. Peering over the edge of the railing and seeing the drop below, y/n inhaled the crisp air of the horizon, allowed the depleting sun to seep into her skin, "Let's see how fast you can fly, Shadowsinger," and then she leant backward, toppling from the edge and embarking on the most glorious free fall she had endured since the time she had escaped the clutches of her mother.

When she was but metres from the ground, her wings instinctively caught the wind and propelled her upward, sending her soaring past the balcony where she heard Cassian's barking laughter and jeering resonate as she drifted over the dome. It wasn't long until Azriel joined her, smirking at her display and unable to find the words to convey his feelings. His heart was still lodged in his throat from stupidly believing that y/n would be nothing but blood and bones against the rocks below, another mistake of underestimation.

Their wings levelled out, Azriel flying just to the side below her, and y/n couldn't help but watch the world go by as they flew over mountain ranges and fields plush with wildlife, towns and villages glowed gold beneath her eye as the moon began her ascent into the sky, glittering the sky in a violet hue. It was wild to know that she had never witnessed her homeland in such a way, or at all really, but she welcomed each sight like an infant exploring a forest for the first time, stopping at every rock and stream possible.

Watching how the wind swept through her hair, Azriel wondered what it would be like to run his marred fingers through, the silky gloss to it beckoned him in a way even the darkness could not, and he found himself edging closer to her with each passing second.

"I never realised how beautiful it is," y/n muttered to no one in particular, it was more of an aloud statement than an invitation for conversation, and Azriel knew that but chose to engage in it anyway.

"What is Doranelle like?" Azriel observed how her eyes softened in memory, the violet orbs that rivalled Rhys' own shining. What Azriel would give to see the world through eyes like that, mesmerising but calculating, a perfect myriad of awe and observation.

Casting her mind to the city shrouded in pale stone and flowing rivers, a soft smile found her lips, "Doranelle is beautiful," she stated simply, "It's known as the City of Rivers. My mother built the city there to protect her against Brannon's heir. Against Aelin." There was much to her story that she wasn't sure that she'd ever divulge, from the arguments she used to have with Rowan and the initial place she stood at the beginning of the war, to the darkness that lurked within her thanks to her mother and the danger that came with it.

Though, Rowan and Aelin had worked very hard to settle that part of y/n's soul, the part that salivated over the light and sought to devour any form of power that crossed it, and, thanks to their help along with Manon and Yrene, y/n found herself paying little heed to that dark spot hiding within her essence.

"The city is just beyond the Cambrian Mountains and lies east in the continent of Wendlyn. The air is heavy with spice and magic, and I don't ever remember a time when rain found the city naturally," she twirled in the air, diving and dipping without a care in the world.

It was true. Doranelle lay in a rich valley lush with mountains and forests, and it was rare that any negative weather descended upon the City of Rivers, not unless she willed it to and each time she had y/n had been punished greatly.

"It sounds beautiful," Azriel turned onto his back, gazing upward at the Queen of the Fae and appreciating her beauty whilst her wings flapped in long lazy strokes, "Your mother built the city to protect herself against Aelin?"

With orbs darkening, y/n found Azriel's gaze, ignoring the drowning hum sounding in her ears, "My mother was the vilest of creatures, she only ever sought to protect herself, to make herself live for as long as possible. She was known as an immortal queen, but she screamed when I drowned her in the storm. I believe that she only welcomed me into her city to prepare me to host her soul once she tired of her own body."

A preposterous thought, a vile act to insight upon any child let alone your own. Azriel shuddered, not being able to imagine her violet orbs dissipate to black. "Why would she do that?"

Contemplating the question, and not at all feeling like the words she would say would ever be used against her, y/n admitted, "I think she knew that I was more powerful than her. My abilities had always intrigued her, I think that's why she spent so long finding the right being to train me."

"Rowan." Y/N hummed lightly in response. "And what about Lorcan? Rowan mentioned a bond?"

Azriel hated to pry, but he had to know if she was mated, there was no indication telling him that she was, no scent or marking on her skin, but he had to be sure. Tilting her head at Azriel with an incredulous look in her eye, y/n smirked, "Lorcan is my blood-sworn, he protects me and acts on my wishes. Aedion is also my blood-sworn, he's Aelin's cousin, and a fine warrior and friend."

Friend.

Feeling his soul settle somewhat and his shadows finally relax, Azriel dipped low as they approached a mountain range, sighting the rippling wards around the city open with invitation and eagerness, Azriel guessed that the excitement was not for him. Azriel slowed on his flight, willing y/n to do the same, to give her time to prepare herself to see the place in which she had been born.

He reached for her, hands holding steady and true, and curled his marred fingers around her wrist to act as her anchor, or to be whatever she needed in that moment, "Are you ready?"

In a hush above a whisper, y/n replied, "Yes," and the pair dove through that rippling hole that concealed the city from any outside prying eyes, and Azriel could have sworn that the valley of gold brightened immediately, that the closed buds within the gardens bloomed, and that even the Sidra craned its lovely neck to witness her.

As if in welcome, sighing at long last, the mountains roared into the night, rumbling the air and singing their relief. Gasping, y/n soared downward through the night-kissed air, slipping from Azriel's grip as she banked along the waters surface, running her fingers over the perfect reflection of the night sky, smiling when it came alive at her touch and danced up her arms.

The Princess of Velaris had come home, and the city wept with joy at the sight.

Weaving to a place beside her, Azriel smiled faintly at the pure ecstasy that was written upon her features, and he wordlessly kept his pace whilst she ebbed and flowed throughout the city, only stopping when she did. Her wings touched the skies and mirrored the night perfectly, y/n swirled to Azriel, water gathering on her bottom lids, and asked, "Where are they?"

Azriel stretched out his arm, pointing to the opulent residence built into the mountain side, "They'll be up there. It's called the House of Wind."

"Is that where you live?"

Azriel hummed in answer, "And you're welcome to stay there too," he hoped as he edged toward her position floating atop the Sidra, so close to the surface that her toes glided against the water, "The view is incredible from the balcony."

"Really?"

"Really." Nerves settled in his gut, knowing that there was a very slim chance that anyone so beautiful let alone a Fae Queen would ever accept his offer, but he couldn't explain his need to be near her, his need to protect her, "I can show you around the city tomorrow if you'd like?"

"A war is coming. Surely Rhys will be putting you to work come dawn," she took his offered arm and felt his weight propel her upward toward the House of Wind, grand and regal in its own right.

"This is more important."

If it weren't so dark then y/n was sure that Azriel would have seen the blush creeping onto her cheeks. "Then yes, I would like that very much."

"Plus," Azriel leaned in close, his breath fanning against her bare shoulder as he noted the scars littering her skin, "I'm sure that Rhys would give you the world on a string if you asked for it."

"And what would you give me?"

Flickering his eyes upward to meet her own, enjoying how the interior lights of the House of Wind cast a heavenly glow over her face, Azriel smirked, "Name it and it's yours."

Author's Note

Part 3 eeek! x

Also I know I've been super absent recently - life has been hitting me hard but I'm in a much better place now so expect lots of updates next week!

Also - it wouldn’t let me tag certain people, sorry about that! Let me know if you’d like to be added 🤍

Taglist

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[shadowdaddies]

Reunited - Part II

Fenrys x Reader

Part I | Part III

Summary: after years of working as a spy in Adarlan, you are finally reunited with your cousin, Aelin, as you join the war to reclaim Terrasen and bring peace to Erilea. What you don't expect is to meet your mate in the middle of a war.

A/N: this story will have at least two more parts; this one is very angsty I’m sorry

Warnings: canon-typical violence, EOS spoilers

The door to the pub slammed behind Aedion with such a force that you flinched in your seat. 

“He will come around,” you murmured, reaching your hand across the table towards your father. You sighed softly at Gavriel’s dejected expression, taking his hand in your own as you mustered a weak smile. “I���ll talk to him,” you promised, knowing the sway you held with your brother.

Your father’s tawny eyes shone with something like pride as he squeezed your hand, his blonde hair swaying as he shook his head. “Aedion is right to feel the way that he does. I don’t expect him to come around easily. He is as stubborn as your mother,” Gavriel paused, a lump working in his throat as he studied you. “And you are as fiercely kind.”

You opened your mouth to say more, something to comfort him, when an alarm rang in the distance. Gavriel had drawn his dagger before you could blink, his body blocking yours protectively from the rest of the room. Another alarm sounded from the lookout tower, dreading realization crashing over you like the waves you looked to out the window. 

Jumping from your seat, you sprinted up the stairs to Rolfe’s office Aelin stood, her relaxed demeanor a stark contrast to Rolfe’s torrent of emotions. He regretfully reached a tattooed hand towards Aelin, the blonde gladly shaking it. “Thank you for your assistance, Lord Rolfe.”

The mischievous glint in your cousin’s eyes told you all that you needed to know, but Aelin wasted no time barking orders for everyone in the room to get to the ships and prepare for the Valg’s approach. 

Fenrys found you quickly, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist as you hurried towards the docks. Despite everything, the peace that filled you at his simple touch was undeniable. In the few days you had spent together, Fenrys had become an anchor in the storm of this impending war. 

“Are you okay?” he murmured, voice like a soft balm to your nerves as you took his hand from around your waist, weaving your fingers through his own. 

Your gaze flicked to his, the tenderness in his onyx eyes grounding you in the moment. “I’m alright,” you promised, squeezing his hand in reassurance. 

You reached the ship, Fenrys lifting you by the waist to help you over the ledge of the vessel, only for you to trip and stumble into his warm, toned chest. Your hearts pounded, synchronized even in the chaos as you made your way to the bow of the boat where Aelin and Rowan stood.

Salty air whipped around your face in breathtaking levels of wind, seawater splashing as Rowan’s wind propelled the ship unnaturally fast against the waves. Lysandra’s scales shone underneath the water, what would be a dazzling sight if not for the fear that had worked its way deep inside of you at the sight of the Valg fleet approaching. 

The next hour was a blur of fighting, canon fire, sea monsters, and every impossible thing you never believed could happen in this world. Nightmares followed the next several nights. The image of Aelin, burning out of control and falling into the sea, Fenrys’s hand ripping from your own as he dove after her.

~~~

That night, you awoke in a cold sweat, hands clawing at the edges of the mattress as you’d clung to the railing of the ship when you’d watched your mate dive out of sight. You had barely registered your surroundings - the peaceful inside of your cabin - when a familiar warm hand touched your shoulder. 

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m here,” Fenrys murmured in your ear, a silent sob breaking through you at his voice. “Can I hold you?” he asked, hand lightly rubbing your shoulder. 

You nodded, sniffling as you tugged Fenrys’s hand from your shoulder, wrapping it around your waist as you moved as close as possible to his warmth. “You scared me today,” you admitted, barely above a whisper. “I thought... I thought that this wonderful thing, this bond with an incredible male had come just in time for me to lose you. And I can’t. I can’t lose you, Fenrys. I’m sorry if it’s too soon for me to say that, but I don’t know how I’ve lived without you in my life.”

Blonde curls fell across your cheek as Fenrys leaned down, his lips warm as they pressed a lingering touch to your ear. “I understand completely. You have brought a light to my life that I did not think possible, and I would do anything to keep you safe and happy. That is why I dove after Aelin. She will keep you safe - I know that. And you are my priority now. You have given me new purpose.”

In all your years - even before those spent as a spy in Adarlan - you had never experienced such profound intimacy. Never connected, cared for someone as deeply as you did for your mate. It was frightening to consider, but his warm press against your body filled any cracks of doubt and worry, allowing you to sleep soundly in his arms. 

Each night passed the same way, Fenrys and you now sharing the same bed, simply holding each other. Your physical intimacy never went further than a kiss on the cheek, arms wrapped around one another’s waist, but the emotional connection was something you did not believe possible.

~~~

When Melisande’s fleet descended upon you, Fenrys kept you close to his side, the two of you working seamlessly as a team to defend your ships and allies from the Valg. Canon fire roared in your ears as you saw Lorcan’s dark form at the stern of the ship - his eyes set on the coast where he had left Elide. 

“Fenrys!” you called, desperate for your mate’s attention as Lorcan abandoned ship, the desperation with which he fought his way towards shore something you wouldn’t have understood until you met Fenrys. Your mate caught your gaze, his onyx eyes flaring wide as he tracked Lorcan’s movements.

“Elide is in danger. I need you to trust me - I will go help them, but I want you safe here on the ship,” Fenrys pleaded, hands cupping your cheeks as he blocked out the world to focus on you. 

“I can’t leave you again,” you admitted, hand coming up to hold his own. Silver lined your eyes as Fenrys’s forehead leaned against your own. “Please,” you whispered, voice broken as you held him close, as though you could stop him from leaving.

Your father’s hand clasped on Fenrys’s shoulder, drawing the two of you from your moment. “It’s now or never,” he spoke, voice firm yet warm as Gavriel nodded towards the dingy. “We will be able to hold off these forces, but we need to leave now if you want to help Lorcan and Elide.”

Without a second thought, you ran towards the dingy, hopping inside along your mate and father as the three of you rowed to shore. Stumbling through the sand, your legs ached from the strain of running towards the crowd of people further inland. And time stood still as you recognized the pale, black-haired female lashing out dark power at Aelin. 

Maeve’s eyes shone with wicked delight as people stood around, helpless while an exhausted Aelin crumpled before the fae queen. Your father rushed forward, leaving you behind with Fenrys as he pleaded Maeve to spare Aelin.

“Please,” Gavriel whispered, kneeling before Maeve. “Leave Aelin be. Take me instead. Take my life.” 

The scream that ripped from your throat was muffled by a large hand over your mouth, Lorcan’s intense gaze looking down upon you as he slowly shook his head. “Do not alert attention to yourself. She cannot know what you are to Fenrys,” he whispered. 

Every nerve in your body was on fire, panic coursing through your veins as you turned to see the male who swore to stay by your side, slowly inching further away. 

You were vaguely aware of your father, his own tears hitting the ground beneath him as he felt the pain of his blood bond being stripped away. Waves of horror knocked the breath from your lungs as Maeve called Aelin to bow, your cousin and Queen whipped before your eyes while no one took action.

Fenrys stood still, frozen under Maeve’s command as your mate could not afford to spare you a glance, leaving you at the mercy of Lorcan’s strong arm holding you back. “Do not make a scene, unless you want to make it worse for Fenrys,” he warned.

Salty tears streaked down your cheeks, your gaze locking with the tawny eyes of your father as he weakly managed his way over to you. Blinding anger coursed through you, confusion at how you could end up in this situation, surrounded by the most feared warriors, all of you forced into a position of waiting as your Queen was placed in an iron sarcophagus.

Fists clenched so hard your nails drew blood from your palms, disgusted with yourself as you allowed Aelin to be taken away so that your mate would be spared. And then the ground fell out from under you when Maeve ordered Fenrys to follow.

Your mate did not so much as spare you a look over his shoulder, but every muscle in his body seemed to strain as he fought against the order to walk away from you, from your father, your new family. 

You bit down hard, Lorcan hissing as your teeth sunk into his fingers, blood dripping from your lips as he released you. You charged after Fenrys, running with no plan other than willing to risk everything for the person who had become more than everything to you.

But once again, broad arms wrapped around your waist as your father held you in his arms. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry” Gavriel whispered, tears streaking down his face as you felt his calm, healing power wash over you, the world fading to black as you lost consciousness.

[moonlightazriel]

Chapter 3: Adjusting /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Y/N recieves a invitation she just can't say no to.

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Angst and fighting.

Notes: I've been writing this fic nonstop, help.

Main Masterlist

Worlds Apart Masterlist

Claws dug in the skin of her thighs, so deep that blood soaked the dark riding leathers, broken sobs left her lips and the tears burned her eyes. Breath in and breathe out. She tried to force herself into this routine, but each breath of air that invaded her lungs felt like glass shards cutting her insides. 

Her guts twisted, forcing nothing to come out, as the content of her stomach had already been discharged in the toilet, a few inches away from where she kneeled to the floor. She kept weeping, alone, on the cold tiles. Mourning for all that was taken from her once again. 

Alone, that’s what she truly was. Did the Mother deemed her so unworthy that once again she found herself lonely and numb inside? She was finally getting her shit back together, finally starting to see the world in a better light, and for what? To be left alone in an unknown place, to never come back to the life she was building.

Each sob was more desperate than the other, more hysterical, louder. She felt pathetic, she wasn’t raised to be like that, but her foolish heart insisted on feeling too much again, letting those emotions consume her would be her downfall. Her whole body shakes with her sorrow, making it hard to stand again.

She forced herself up, hands gripping hard against the wall, each step towards the bathroom were hard to make, but she forced herself, gritting her teeth and mentally screaming at herself, begging for her to be stronger, stop with this damn show. She just didn’t feel pathetic, she was pathetic. What would the witches say if they saw her right now? 

She stopped by the bathroom door, taking some deep breaths, trying to control the constant river of tears that made her vision blurry. In a harsh motion, she wiped her tears, clearing her eyes to see the mess she had made. 

Glass scattered around the room, from the broken mirror on the left side of the wall. The blankets were messy, ripped in different places and broken pieces of both decoration and furniture littered the floors. From the anger outburst she had after she was left alone. 

She wasted all her anger and now all that was left was the emptiness, that numbing void that threatened to consume her whole. The same void she was stuck into for months after the war, after she lost her family. 

She would apologise for the damages later, but for now all she could do was drag herself to the bed, falling there with her eyes closed. Silent tears kept falling down the sides of her face, she just lay there, waiting for the sleep that would wrap her in its safe confinement. 

But everything felt wrong, the sheets felt wrong, the walls felt wrong, the only thing that indeed felt right in that moment, was the faint smell of night-chilled mist and cedar that consumed her senses and pulled her into a dreamless sleep. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

Sunlight peeked through the window, forcing her to wake up. She blinked a couple of times, using her palm to shield the light and give her time to adjust. She jumped in bed, grabbing the discarded sword at her side. 

Swinging it around, she looked in confusion at the pristine state the room was, the same way it was when she first went there. It was like last night was some sort of twisted dream, if not for the pounding headache, she wouldn’t even remember what had happened there. 

By the side of the bed she found a bottle, a potion as she read the information across the bottle. She downed everything quickly, feeling the instant relief the potion brought, just like Yrene’s one did to her, the healer would constantly send medications and potions to the Witch Kingdom and other territories as the agreement demanded. 

The Great Agreement was a peace treaty signed by all the rulers in Erilea and other continents, to provide aid however they could. To rebuild a new world together, not letting our problems separate us anymore. The idea was brilliant but having to help deliver all those things to different parts of the world was sometimes very boring. 

Her alliance was scheduled to get more medications from Torre Cesme next month, delivered in Adarlan and some in Perranth. She wondered if they would have someone taking her place now, if she was as easily replaced as a missing piece of paper.  

Brushing that thought aside, she walked to the bathroom, a bath was waiting for her, a new toothbrush and some other personal things were also there. She brushed her teeth, then splayed some cold water on her face to wake herself up. 

She removed her clothes, sinking in the warm water, letting her head submerge until she couldn’t breathe anymore. As she raised her head, her clothes were gone. Maybe they had the Little Folk here as well. Mother knows how much she loved the tiny creatures whenever she had to stay in the woods, always bringing her flowers and little statues. They were so kind to her, maybe they were here too.

She wrapped herself in a towel, stalking towards the big wardrobe in the corner of the room. It was filled to the brim with clothes in various dark shades.She chose a pair of dark red underwear, ignoring the marks on her back in the mirror. Some scars littered her body, but the ones on her back were the worst ones, worse than the one on her face. 

She found a pair of dark pants, the fabric glued to her frame, easy to move in it. She adjusted her boots over the pants, opting for a short sleeved grey shirt and a black corset tied in her back, making her breasts spill from the cleavage the shirt had. She looked good, she finished by strapping her sword and cloak behind her back and brushing her hair. 

She took a deep breath, looking at herself once more in the mirror before she left the room, her stomach growling loudly, but she wanted to find Meraxes before anything else. So she opened the door, ready to find her wyvern. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

Azriel felt her before he saw her, his shadows running away from their leash to welcome the female at the dining room. She looked down, her eyes glued to the shadows dancing around her feet, like they were happy to see her. With a finger pointed to them, she watched as a bold strand of mist circled her finger and danced around it, she smiled at them, making Azriel’ blush. 

Cassian and Nesta were there watching the exchange with curiosity. Elain had just arrived too, and by the looks on her face as she eyed the new guest up and down, he could tell she wasn’t happy. Despite Rhysand’s warning, they still wanted to try, see if the Mother really made a mistake in mating her to Lucien, but something never felt right for him, and even more now as Cassian urged Y/N to join them. The female’s blue eyes scanned the room, and she tried to smile at them, waving her hand slowly.

“Come have breakfast with us.” Cassian said, Rhys had begged them to be friendly with her, to not cause any more trouble, as they didn’t know what her and her pet were able to do. 

“Thank you, but I need to check on Meraxes.” She really needed to see him, he tended to be very moody if he didn’t eat early in the morning. 

“He is actually sleeping on the biggest balcony we have.” She looked at him surprised. Deciding to join them, after all he wasn’t the only one that got angry when hungry. “These are Nesta.” He pointed to the female by his side, she was wearing black leather clothes, eyes filled with power. “And Elain.” He pointed to the petit female sitting by Azriel’s side, she had scooted her chair closer to him, a hand wrapped around his biceps in a protective manner. 

“Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N.” A plate filled with muffins, bacon, eggs, pancakes and a cup of coffee appeared in front of her. The smell was delicious, so she started to eat.

“Cassian told me you cut Rhysand open on your first day here, I've been wanting to do that for months now. Nice move.” The female, Nesta, started. A smug carving her pretty face. 

“I’m glad to help.” She joked, sipping on her coffee. “Just making sure there’s no valgs around.” She pointed, something still felt weird about him, being so similar to Maeve, after all she chose to look like him.

“It’s the fourth time since you’re here that you mention those valg things.” Azriel started, his gaze fixed on hers, watching as the corner of her lips turned downwards in pure distaste. 

“Demons from another world that infested my land and destroyed everything.” The table fell silent. “They had lots of forms, and they were very powerful. Some say that witches come from breeding valgs and faes, that the Ironteeth took after the Valgs while the Crochans took after the faes.”

“So you’re a witch? Looks like it.” The other female snickered, receiving a disapproval glare from both her sister and her mate. Azriel shifted uncomfortably in his seat. She caught it, her nostrils flaring at his behaviour. 

“Elain..” Nesta reprimanded her but the female giggled without any humour.

“Yes, I’m a witch.” That frown turned into a cruel smirk as she turned to Elain, neither of them wanted to be on the receiving end of that glare. “And I killed for less than this silly offence.” 

“Of course Elain didn’t mean it that way.” Azriel started, giving her a stern look as she tried to protest. What the fuck was wrong with her? “So what are your plans for the day?” He inquired, wanting desperately to change topics. 

“First, check on him.” She pointed to the ceiling. “And then i don’t know, find a way to get the fuck out of here maybe.” She shrugged. 

“Would you be interested in participating in some Valkyrie training?” Nesta spoke, by her instance, the weapon behind her back and the scars, she knew she was in the presence of a formidable warrior, and she wanted to see what she could do. 

“And what would this be?” Nesta started to talk about the Valkyries and their work, how they had won the blood rite and the growing number of female warriors, this seemed like a great idea, which made her accept. 

“Great, we see your wyvern and then we go?” Y/N nodded. Perfect. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

The animal opened its eyes, slowly moving his head until he spotted a very excited Nesta behind his rider. Y/N rolled her eyes and lowered her hand.

“She’s a friend.” It felt weird saying this about this stranger, but it was the best way to convince him that she was safe. “And here’s breakfast.” She said, throwing the dead sheep Cassian had handed her before she made her way towards the balcony. Meraxes immediately caught it, its teeth crushing the animal as his tail wiggled.

“He’s beautiful.” Nesta spoke, mesmerised by the animal. 

“He’s a giant puppy, that’s what he is.” Y/N laughed as he pouted at her. “Alright, alright.” She turned to Nesta. “Not a puppy, he’s a very scary big deadly wyvern. Happy now?” Nesta could swear that she saw him nodding his head like he could understand her. 

“How did you get him?” Nesta asked while Y/N inspected him for any injuries. 

“They were made for us, we just had to be chosen. We bonded and I've been his rider since then. We’ve been through a lot together, I don't know what I would do without him.” She rested her head against his nose and he closed his eyes as their hearts beat in synchrony. 

“I can see the love you two share.” Y/N smiled at Nesta. “Does he understand you?” She let her curiosity take the best of her.

“He does, despite pretending he doesn’t.” She laughed. “Should we get going?” Nesta nodded. 

“Just a few steps down.” She followed the female silently, still feeling weird about the whole ordeal, but Nesta seemed like a very nice female, someone Asterin would love to meet. 

“These are the Valkyries.” Nesta announced as they entered a training area. Various females stood there, all of them wearing the same clothes but so different from one another. It reminded her of the witches back home. “Valkyries, this is Y/N, she will be joining today’s training.” 

The females greeted her with animation, happy to learn more fighting techniques. She scanned her crowd, a female with very bright blue eyes and freckles looked the happiest, by her side a tanned female with wings, just like Cassian and Azriel, studied her with a reserved smile on her lips. 

“Hello, ladies. I come from a lineage of strong warriors, females born to fight.” The females stood in silence, paying attention to her. “We are the Ironteeth witches.” She clicked her jaw, her metallic smile shining in the sun alongside her claws, the females gasped. “For centuries my people fought, every newborn witchling knew how to hold a sword before she could even walk.”

She pulled the long sword from her back, the dark grey blade swallowing the light as it was pulled out of its shelter. A amethyst was placed in the middle of the handle, and adorning the middle of the blade, shining with power. The black handle was cold to the touch and she felt the weight of the sword. 

“This is the Godslayer.” She lowered the weapon, placing the blade in front of her with respect. The females tried to look at the intricate pattern on the blade. It was as beautiful as Ataraxia. “The blade that help defeat the Valgs, a parasite type of demon that infested our home.” She turned her head to the side, showing her scar. “The blade many tried to kill me to have.” 

The scar itched, she remembered the yellowlegs jumping on her wyvern, claiming that she would take the Godslayer away from such an unworthy bearer. It was that bitch who sliced her face open with her claws, and it was also that bitch that laid unmoving with her abdomen open on the battlefield. 

“So I know a thing or two about fighting.” She concluded with a smile and the females smiled back at her. Azriel and Cassian stayed behind her, her story peeking their interest. Azriel caught himself wanting to know more about her, hear her stories about her land and her scars. 

He had come to training after a quick argument with Elain, she had claimed that he was very quick to defend the stranger and that she said nothing that no one else was already thinking. He left her after stating that he was just being nice to her and there was no need for her rude remark. Elain had turned her back to him and he was more than happy to leave her alone. 

“Who wants to go against her?” Nesta said, a couple of hands were lifted in the air, but Azriel stepped forward, ignoring them and clearing his throat.

“I’ll go.” She turned to him, her sword back in place. “Choose your weapons.” He offered, hand pointing to the weapon shelf behind her, she shook her head. Removing her cloak and her sword, clicking her jaw until her teeth disappeared. She lifted her hands. “Just your nails? Be careful not to break them.” He warned, unsheathing truth teller. 

The females made a circle around them, Y/N watched as the Shadowsinger prepared himself, wings clutched against his back and his dagger at eye level. She had impaled lots of enemies with those nails, a dagger wouldn’t stop her. With an iron nail, she curled her finger, urging him forward. 

Azriel felt his skin tight, her smell completely intoxicating. He lunged forward, his dagger clashing against iron, sparks of fire surging as the two slid together. He gasped in surprise as the nails kept intact, no matter how sharp the truth teller was.  

She kicked his legs, making him falter. He let his body fall backwards when a sharp nail got really close to his face. He punched her in the abdomen, making her trip a few steps back away from him, giving him the upper hand. They circled each other, like in a silent dance with a song only they could hear. 

She punched his face, blood pouring out of his busted lip, while her nose, that he had landed a punch moments earlier leaked a blue substance, by the scent, it was blood. The females watched intrigued at the colour, never seeing something like this before. They all watched in silence, learning her moves, how easily she moved, how she dodged his blows and how she attacked. A formidable warrior indeed, Nesta once again was right. 

She ran for him, jumping on him. Azriel quickly ducked down, away from her reach, just like she knew he would. She landed with her back turned to him, quickly spinning in the same spot, like a very skilled dancer. Azriel got up, but didn’t turn quick enough. He felt the cold edge of her nails scraping against his throat, her legs wrapped around his waist. Heat emanated from her. 

“And that’s how you die.” She whispered in his ear, sending shivers down his spine. She clicked her jaw, the sound of her iron teeth, the superior half hitting the bottom half as she bit the air really close to his earlobe. 

Azriel felt his blood run wildly in his veins, warming his heart and making it hard to think with her pressed like that against him. She quickly let him go, circling him and bowing a bit. 

“Thank you for the fight.” She turned to the females. “Anyone else would like to go?” This time, more hands raised in the air, she smiled at them, and Azriel found himself lost in that beautiful smile.  

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Taglist: @fieldofdaisiies @blackgirlmagicforever @a-frog-with-a-laptop @going-through-shit @asweetblueberry2

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[callsigns-haze]

Lock it in

Eris x Rhysand's Sister!Reader Summary: Y/N and Eris solidify their bond through an intimate meal, leading to a passionate night that deepens their love and connection. In the quiet of their cabin, they find solace and joy in each other's embrace. Chapter Warnings: Sexual content, Mild language, Brief mention of light spanking

*Serves as a one-shot but can be read as memories fade or the sequel loves haze series

Four months later after they rose, Eris sat in his office, the weight of his responsibilities as one of the Phoenii leaders bearing down on him. The stacks of papers before him seemed endless, each document a reminder of the vast duties that had fallen upon him and Y/N since their miraculous resurrection. His ginger-red hair was slightly dishevelled, and faint lines of exhaustion marred his otherwise handsome features.

Eris sighed, rubbing his temples, his mind drifting momentarily to the life they had been building together. The lands beyond the forest were thriving under their care, but it was a monumental task, one that required constant attention and effort.

Just as he began to immerse himself back into his work, the door to his office swung open with a sudden force. Y/N stormed in, her expression a mix of frustration and determination. She carried a stack of thick, ancient-looking books, which she promptly slammed down on his desk, causing papers to scatter and leaving Eris in a state of shock.

"Y/N, what in the name of the Cauldron…?" Eris began, his eyes wide with surprise.

Y/N, her hair slightly tousled from her evident irritation, placed her hands on her hips and glared at him. "We need to talk, Eris. Now."

Eris blinked, quickly recovering from his initial shock. He leaned back in his chair, giving her his full attention. "Alright," he said, his voice calm despite the abrupt interruption. "What's going on?"

She took a deep breath, her eyes locking onto his. "These books," she began, pointing to the stack on the desk, "contain records about Wyrdmarks. I’ve discovered that they originate from the old kingdom known as Erilea, the very kingdom that brought back magic."

Eris frowned, his curiosity piqued. "Wyrdmarks? And Erilea? Go on."

Y/N opened the top book, flipping through its yellowed pages with a practiced hand. She stopped at a section filled with intricate illustrations and dense text. "Erilea was a kingdom containing courts steeped in ancient magic. These Wyrdmarks are powerful symbols, capable of extraordinary feats. They’re scattered throughout the kingdom, and I believe they’re connected to our revival and the magic we now possess."

Eris leaned forward, his interest growing. "What does this mean for us?"

Y/N's expression was serious, her determination unwavering. "It means that our power, our very existence as Phoenii, is linked to these marks and the magic of Erilea. We need to understand them, Eris. There could be untapped potential or unforeseen dangers we haven’t even considered."

Eris reached out, taking her hand in his, his expression thoughtful. "And you think these Wyrdmarks could help us harness our abilities more effectively? Or protect us from threats?"

Y/N nodded. "Yes. But more than that, we need to understand the history and the magic of Erilea. It’s a part of who we are now. Ignoring it would be foolish."

Eris squeezed her hand gently. "Then we’ll study these books together. We’ll learn everything we can about Erilea and the Wyrdmarks. Whatever you wish."

Eris tapped his lap, inviting Y/N to sit down. She hesitated for a moment, then moved to settle herself comfortably against him. He brushed her hair aside gently, exposing the curve of her neck, and leaned in to place soft kisses along her skin. The warmth of his lips sent a shiver down her spine, and she relaxed into his embrace, feeling the familiar comfort and love that had blossomed between them.

"Y/N," Eris murmured against her neck, "you've been working so hard on this. I’m amazed at your dedication."

She turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze. "It's important, Eris. For us, for our family, for our people."

He nodded, his expression serious. "I know. And I’m proud of you."

A soft smile touched her lips, but it was tinged with a hint of melancholy. "Eris, we never properly mated. With everything that happened… we never had the chance to complete the bond."

Eris's eyes softened, and he tightened his arms around her. "I know. There’s been so much going on, and I regret not giving us that moment."

Y/N reached up, cupping his cheek. "I want to make you the mating meal. I want us to have that bond, to be truly connected in every way."

Eris's heart swelled with emotion. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a tender, lingering kiss. When they finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers. "Then let's do it. Tonight. I’ll take care of everything else; you focus on preparing the meal."

Y/N's eyes sparkled with determination. "Tonight," she agreed, her voice filled with a mix of anticipation and love.

Eris helped her off his lap, watching as she moved to gather her thoughts and plan the evening ahead. He felt a renewed sense of purpose, knowing that their bond would soon be complete. As Y/N disappeared into the kitchen, he couldn’t help but smile, the weight of their responsibilities momentarily lifted by the promise of their deepening connection.

Y/N stood in the cozy kitchen of their cabin, the soft glow of the evening sun filtering through the windows. She took a deep breath, steadying herself for the task ahead. Tonight, she would make the mating meal for Eris, a tradition that would cement their bond and bring them even closer together.

She gathered the ingredients she had carefully selected, each one chosen for its significance in the ritual. Fresh fruits, vegetables, herbs, and spices, all imbued with the magic of the land they now protected. The scent of wild strawberries filled the air as she chopped them, their sweetness a reminder of the simple joys they shared with their children.

Next, she prepared a tender piece of venison, marinating it with a blend of herbs that Eris loved. As she worked, she couldn’t help but think of their journey together, from the pain and loss they had endured to the love and hope they now embraced. Each slice of her knife, each sprinkle of seasoning, was infused with her love for him.

She moved on to bake a loaf of bread, kneading the dough with care. The rhythmic motion was soothing, and she found herself humming a soft tune as she worked. The kitchen was filled with the comforting aromas of home, a testament to the life they had built together.

While the bread rose and the venison cooked, Y/N prepared a salad with fresh greens, edible flowers, and a light vinaigrette. She arranged everything meticulously, her heart swelling with the significance of the meal. This was more than just food; it was a promise, a vow of eternal love and partnership.

As the final touches were added, she set the table with their best dishes and lit a few candles, creating a warm and intimate atmosphere. The meal was ready, and she took a moment to appreciate her work. Everything looked perfect, a reflection of the love she held for Eris.

Eris entered the kitchen, his eyes widening as he took in the sight. The table was beautifully set, the aroma of the meal making his stomach rumble in anticipation. Y/N stood by the stove, a soft smile on her lips as she met his gaze.

"Y/N," he breathed, walking over to her. "This is incredible."

She blushed slightly, her heart fluttering at his praise. "I wanted it to be special," she said softly. "For us."

Eris wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "It’s perfect. You’re perfect."

They stood there for a moment, holding each other, before moving to the table. Y/N served the meal, each dish a labour of love. As they ate, they talked and laughed, the bond between them growing stronger with each passing moment.

When the meal was finished, Y/N took Eris’s hand and led him outside to the deck by the lake. The stars were beginning to twinkle in the sky, and the water shimmered in the moonlight. They sat together, wrapped in blankets, the warmth of their connection keeping them close.

As Y/N and Eris sat at the beautifully set table, the warm glow of candlelight illuminating their faces, she smiled softly and picked up a forkful of the tender venison. She leaned in closer, bringing the bite to Eris’s lips. His eyes sparkled with affection as he accepted the offering, savouring the rich flavours.

"Delicious," he murmured, his voice husky.

She blushed, her heart swelling with pride and love. "I’m glad you like it," she replied, feeding him another bite of the perfectly seasoned meat.

With each bite, their connection deepened, the simple act of sharing food becoming a ritual of their bond. Y/N picked up a piece of the fresh-baked bread, slathered with honey butter, and brought it to Eris’s mouth. He took a bite, his lips brushing against her fingers, sending a shiver down her spine.

"This is amazing, Y/N," he said between bites, his gaze never leaving hers.

As the meal came to an end, the table now filled with empty plates and satisfied sighs, Eris leaned back, his eyes darkening with a mischievous glint. "You know," he said, his voice low and teasing, "I think I might still be a little hungry."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Oh? And what do you have in mind for dessert?"

Eris grinned, his eyes roaming over her with a hunger that had nothing to do with food. "How about you?" he suggested, his tone laced with desire.

Before Y/N could respond, Eris stood up and, in one swift motion, tossed her over his shoulder. She let out a surprised laugh, her hands coming to rest on his back. "Eris!" she exclaimed, half-laughing, half-protesting.

He slapped her behind lightly, making her squeal. "You asked," he said, his voice filled with laughter as he carried her towards their bedroom. "Now, I’m going to enjoy every bite."

Y/N couldn’t stop giggling, her heart racing with excitement and love. "Put me down, you brute!" she said, though her words held no real anger.

Eris kicked the bedroom door open, stepping inside and gently lowering her onto the bed. "Not a chance," he replied, his eyes dark with passion. "I’ve waited too long for this."

He leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, their bodies melting together as the night wrapped them in its embrace. As they made love, the bond between them solidified even further, a testament to the strength of their love and the magic that had brought them back together.

In the quiet of their cabin, surrounded by the whispers of the forest and the soft glow of the moon, Y/N and Eris found solace and joy in each other, their hearts beating as one.

Tagging some:

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@kmc1989

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[throneofsapphics]

old faces, part seven

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary:  you and Rowan meet again after seven years, and deal with the fall-out of a secret. 

Warnings: mentions of death, drinking, flashbacks/ptsd

Word Count: ~6k 

A/N: we’re starting to pick up a bit now! some time skips

series masterlist 

Seven days in the castle. You enjoyed breakfasts with Aelin and whatever members of her court were around, evenings with Fenrys and co, more chances to interact with Ceri and her friends, free time to try and figure out your damn way around the city, but you were going crazy. Surrounded by people at all times, even if they were kind, exhausted you. 

As much as you tried, there wasn’t a truly private place in this castle. Maybe it was paranoia, but you knew someone could always be watching - there could always be eyes. 

But, there was a pattern. Halle would be on edge if someone was nearby, if there were prying ears, and she only fell into a deep sleep if it was the two of you - or if it seemed private enough. You trusted her judgment. The judgment of a cat. Then again, she wasn’t an ordinary cat. 

She had her own kind of magic. That’s a secret you decided to keep as long as possible. Even if magic was freely accepted here, her kind could easily make her a target. 

For gods sake she was buddies with fleetfoot. Aelin had been worried in the beginning, but her dog bounded right up to Halle. 

Fleetfoot sniffed, tilted her head, and licked Halle’s face. The cat didn’t hiss or swipe, instead headbutting her. 

Aelin gave you an incredulous look. 

“She’s never met a dog.” 

“Fleetfoot usually doesn’t make friends with cats,” Aelin turned back towards the duo, “you’re special Halle.” A small purr, and yellow eyes stared right at her, as if to say; ‘obviously.’ 

Aelin snorted and shook her head, ‘if Fleetfoot’s on her side, nobody should bother her.” 

‘I’d like to see them try,’ the small hiss said. Seemed to say, you corrected yourself. The two of you couldn’t communicate, but it was easy enough to read her expressions. 

One hand holding up your book, she rested in your lap. Rowan was in the room, sitting across from you, just having finished up Ceri’s bedtime story for the day. Another change over the last week, you’d gotten comfortable being in a room alone with them. Not that it had been necessarily uncomfortable in the past, but you shed some of the fear of perception. If people read into it too much, that was on them. You knew your relationship with them, you knew you were only platonic. Those who paid attention would know that too. 

-

 “There’s something .. off about that cat,” Rowan commented. He’d discreetly observed the two of you over the edge of a few reports he brought with him, intending to finish them as he waited for Ceri to fall asleep. There was only one left, and he figured he might as well get it done now. Abraxos’s story was requested again, and he didn’t have anything new to say. Like hell he’d write to Manon and ask. There would be a set of meetings and a ball hosted in Orynth the week after Beltane, and hopefully he could convince her not to ask during that. He didn’t know the witch well enough to tell how she’d react. Maybe she’d find it amusing, as far as he remembers witches were always protective of young ones. The nations of Erilea, and sometimes contingents from other countries, met once every two years, and it was Orynth’s turn to host this year. It would be interesting, convincing you to attend alongside Ceri. 

Yellow eyes peeked up, Halle’s fur standing up, as if she’d heard the insult and taken it personally. 

“Be nice,” you whispered, running your fingers through her fur. The little demon settled instantly, purring on your lap. There was definitely something off about that cat. Almost like it had purposefully found you. Ceri had seemed a bit put out that the cat liked you more than her. But, with your animal form it was to be expected. He’d never tell you this, not yet at least, but there was a small betting pool running for which form your daughter would take. Avian, or feline. 

On their visit to Antica, he’d met some of the baast cats in the library of the Torre Cesme. More he thought about it, he’d never actually seen your animal form. 

“Can you … talk to her?” 

“Obviously,” you grinned, “I just told her to be nice.” 

Rowan rolled his eyes, you knew what he meant. 

“As a cat,” he drawled, raising a brow at you. 

“Why would I spill our secrets to you?” 

“So you can?” He knows cats communicate with each other in some way, Gods know birds do. Not that he’d ever tell Aelin that, she’d be relentless. 

“I don’t know,” you admitted, “I haven’t shifted around her yet.”

“When was the last time you shifted?” 

“Probably too long,” you absentmindedly stroked the little creature. Who looked asleep, but Rowan got the inkling she was faking it. 

Initially, there was a slight fear you’d bring a shifter with you, but he realized quickly you would’ve caught on to that. Above all, he trusted you and your judgment. Rowan trusted you’d never do anything to endanger Ceri, but recognized you’d easily throw yourself into any kind of danger if it meant protecting her. The more he thought about it, the more he realized just how much you’d sacrificed for her … how much you’d sacrificed for Ceri, and something about it didn’t sit right with him. 

-

Fenrys insisted on a house-warming party. You wanted to call it ridiculous, but you’d never had something like this before, and you gave into his badgering. It didn’t take too much effort on his part, but you let him annoy you about it a bit. That way he’d feel like he accomplished something. 

One month after you moved in, you finally hosted it. 

The party was small, and perfect. Rowan, Aelin, Fenrys, Aedion, Lysandra, Evangeline, who came to surprise Ceri, a friend you’d made, and Ceri’s three closest friends. 

A bit of poking around, a few questions to Aedion, and you learned the three of them were orphans. A piece of your heart shattered. 

Edde and Edie, twins, and their cousin Elias. All Fae, all lived at the castle most of their lives - long enough they didn’t remember anything else. They all wanted to train as warriors, even though they were barely eleven. You and Fenrys, acting like gossiping mothers, had easily figured out why they attached themselves to Ceri. Fae recognize power, and something inside them would’ve drawn them to that wild magic. Ceri was powerful, there was no denying that. Reaching her father’s levels, and maybe passing it one day. Sensing that type of power was right up your alley. 

Fenrys pressed a mug of, you looked down into the cup, catching a drift of the sweet honey - mead, into your hands. You took it with a grateful grin. As much as you loved wine, mead was your favorite. But, it was expensive and sometimes difficult to find. Instead of chugging it, you let yourself savor every drop. 

Ines sidled up next to you as Fenrys walked away. All it took was a drunk night together for you to count her as one of your closest friends. She was in a similar situation to you, a daughter - but her father lived quite a distance away. In Eyllwe. She would spend winters down there, and summers up here. You were excited to meet her. A few years younger than Ceri, but you had an inkling she would take her under her wing. Only time would tell if your daughter was a good or bad influence. 

“You have a beautiful home,” she sighed, swirling her glass in one hand. Halle weaved around your feet, the little kitten had been growing, and fast. She’d been circling the house the entire time, judging all of the new visitors. For some reason, you got the impression she was assessing if they were worthy of being in their presence. A meow. The connection the two of you shared is not something to ponder right now. 

“Yours is just as pretty,” you countered. And it was - an elegant townhouse in the middle of the city. 

She hummed, and emptied her glass, nudging you with her elbow. “So, you and … Fenrys?” She hesitated, forcing herself not to put his title in front of his name. He hated that. 

“Friends,” you nudged her back. “And that's it,” you hoped you emphasized the last word enough. 

“I’m wounded,” the male said, before switching his gaze to Ines. “But yes, we are just friends.” 

Where had he come from? Either way, you were glad he came and backed you up. Otherwise, she may never have believed you.

Rowan, Aelin, and the others were currently being treated to prime entertainment by the four hellions. Probably just for the night, the cousins had shed their shy skin for the night, now re-enacting … some sort of game they played earlier. Evangeline was just as taken with the others as she’d been with Ani, and you watched how they already were latching onto her like an older sister. 

Another small pain in your chest, one another sip of mead washed away for the night. 

Now was as good of a time as any to pull out a little creation you’d been working on. Gods, you’d started this project nearly a year ago, and just now you’d finally gotten it right. 

-

Rowan watched as you quickly slipped out of the room, and debated following you. But, you returned quickly. A type of crystal now in your hand. Round, with a flat bottom, and … no, it was glass, encasing several different kinds of crystals, all carefully arranged to form symbols. And it swirled with magic, practically a beacon to anyone who knew what to look for. Apparently, it attracted his wife because she was at your side within moments, peering down at it curiously. 

“It can only play one long track,” you admitted. 

A track? Music? 

Placing it on a table, he watched as your eyes focused on it, fingers pressing against the glass. Normally you could do these types of things with just a thought, but maybe this one needed touch to work. 

Sure enough, a tune started playing through the room, and caught everyone’s attention. You turned red, the attention flustering you, but you quietly explained what it did. It captures and plays back music. Only one long track, this one about four hours before it would repeat. You’ve only made the one. 

The last statement, your left thumb and forefinger pressed together. One of your tells, you lied. Interesting. Something he could ask about later. Calling you out on bullshit was always amusing to him, as long as it was relatively harmless, of course.

“Took me over a year to get right,” he heard you tell Aelin. 

The music was from Antica - he knew that much. 

Aelin caught his eye, no dancing, he said quickly - anticipating her next question. 

A large sigh and roll of her eyes, but she turned back to you instead. 

-

The party went well, as well as you could’ve predicted. By eight, it began to split up. The three “E’s,” as they’d been nicknamed that night, and Evangeline would spend the night. There was plenty of room, and you liked a full house. 

Rowan, Aelin, and Fenrys stuck around as the others left. Lysandra promised to get your drunk friend home in one piece. Now, you all splayed out on the couches. Fenrys shared one with you, your legs currently thrown over his lap as you stretched out. One hand rested on your shin, and the other propped up behind his head. The portrait of casual arrogance. 

“This was fun,” you commented, stealing a glance at Aelin and Rowan. Their positions nearly mirrored your own, Aelin stretched out like a cat on the other couch, but with Rowan’s hand resting on the inside of her knee. 

“Oh absolutely. We should do it again.” 

“I do not want to move houses anytime soon,” you groaned. 

Fenrys poked you, “not every party has to be a housewarming one.” He caught your ankle as you brought your leg back to try and kick him. “Slow,” he tutted, and you rolled your eyes, accepting the failure. 

It’s true, the alcohol and fatigue was delaying all of your reactions. 

“A question, for you, y/n,” the look in his eyes promised trouble. 

“Oh no.” 

-

“Find anyone to warm your bed this winter?” Fenrys teased. That comment caught Aelin and Rowan’s attention. Rowan was proud you managed to land a kick on him, even if he didn’t react, he fought the urge to glare at Fenrys. “Ines is quite pretty,” he added.  

“It’s none of your business,” you rolled your eyes, “but no, I haven’t, and Ines is just a friend, with no interest in women or females.” Rowan shouldn’t have felt that relieved, the relief flew out the window with what she said next. “I suppose it’s never too late.” 

“That’s more like it,” Fenrys grinned - ignoring Aelin’s frown. He tried very hard to keep his face neutral. 

“I don’t think I’ll get involved with anyone until Ceri’s a bit more grown up. At least seriously.” 

“You’re really going to be single for that long?” Fenrys countered. 

“We’re immortal,” she huffed. “Can we not talk about this?” If Rowan didn’t know better, he’d think you were avoiding looking at the two of them. Actually, looking anywhere but at them. 

“I’m trying to be helpful. You look like you need a good fuck.” 

“Fenrys. Shut. Up,” Aelin looked ready to throw a fiery dagger at him, and he only shrugged. 

“Just pointing out the obvious.” 

Even if a very drunk Aelin, who didn’t remember it the next day, admitted she really liked you, you were off-limits. Painfully off-limits, and not shown a hint of interest in them. He’d settle for - no, it wasn’t settling if there was no interest there on his end. He’d be your friend. Rowan liked being your friend. Friends were good, and friends was safe. The last thing he needed was for this to get messy. 

-

“There’s going to be a ball, around beltane,” Aelin commented casually, carefully watching your reaction. 

“Do we need to go dress shopping for Ceri?” 

“For you and Ceri.” You paled, and she heard your heartbeat quicken. Your mouth parted, before closing again. Of all the things to make you speechless, it was this. “We’d like for both of you to come,” she added gently. 

“Who … who will be there?” 

“Every two years, the countries on Erilea meet for meetings. Sometimes countries too, and there’s always a ball. Music, food, dancing.” 

Your entire arm began to shake. She held on tightly to your hand, felt your palm beginning to sweat. Your eyes glazed, and Aelin began to panic. The door swung open, revealing Rowan. He looked between the two of you, and crossed the room. Slowly, he knelt in front of you, taking your hand, disentangling Aelin’s fingers from yours. He called your name, over and over again. 

“You’re in Terrasen. You’re in Orynth.” 

“What triggered it?” He met Aelin’s eyes, not releasing his grip on your hands. 

“I asked about the ball.” 

Rowan swore lightly under his breath. 

You were still shaking, eyes still glazed over, lips starting to turn blue. He gathered both of your hands in one, the other gripping your chin, squeezing enough so your lips parted. She felt his magic swirling, forcing air into your lungs. 

You jolted, as if you were transported back to your body. Rowan hadn’t released his grip on your hands, and good thing because you looked ready to swing at him. Shaking, but eyes now clear, you looked around the room, studied their faces. 

“I should go,” you murmured. 

“You’re not going anywhere until you’re feeling better.” 

Narrowed eyes stared at Rowan, and he stared right back. You didn’t argue, perhaps sensing this was a fight you wouldn’t win. 

She felt the instincts flaring in him, in herself, the instinct to protect someone they claimed as their own. Friend or other, if someone was defenseless, vulnerable … it was normal amongst Fae to feel this. She had before for friends, but maybe not to this level. 

-

“It happened once, when we were together,” Rowan said, after you’d fallen asleep - curled up right on their couch. Your eyes started drooping, falling quickly into sleep, and Rowan showed no inclination of wanting to move you back to your rooms, instead they carefully arranged you into a more comfortable position, tucking a blanket over you. 

Like before, you weren’t able to give a solid reason why. He’d ask again tomorrow, and maybe things would be a bit clearer for you. 

Rowan knew this happened before, and he was running through the circumstances, trying to pick out similarities. 

“A friend invited me to a ball,” you commented absentmindedly. He knew you weren’t fishing for jealousy, you were just bringing up something going on in your life - something on your mind. 

“Oh?” Rowan ran his hand up and down your bare back. “Are you going?” 

“I’m not sure. I’m not the best person to bring to those.” 

Rowan doubted that, and called it. “Bullshit.” 

He felt more than saw your scowl. “I don’t like them.” 

“That’s better,” he teased. “Why?” 

“Bad memories.” 

That peaked his interest. You rarely mentioned the past, and he always wanted to know more - maybe because of that, you were somewhat of a mystery. “Want to share?” He asked. You froze. 

The only similarities were the ball. 

Rowan cursed under his breath as you shook in your sleep. 

-

A ball! It was magical, and beautiful. Males and females dressed up, and your mother had made you a pretty blue dress for it. Everyone’s attention was on your father, but you didn’t mind - it gave you time to observe everyone. 

You were still thinking about it as you all trotted up towards your house, still in Fae form. You’d set off too early in your opinion, but it was smart to travel by daylight. You were glad you’re old enough to travel in Fae form. Carriages were much less fun.

You still carried your pack on your back as you shifted back, dumping it in your bedroom before hurrying back for breakfast. The dagger you got for your birthday was still strapped to your thigh, but you didn’t mind now. 

Their faces were grave, and your mother crouched before you, gripping your shoulders. “I need you to run for the hills. Leave, do not look back.” 

“But -,” looking out the window - the wards were strong, but hundreds and hundreds of soldiers were quickly descending, as if they’d been hiding and waiting for your return. It was easy enough to sense out who they were. Mortal soldiers, without magic. “I can help,” you insisted. 

“If you die too,” the first tears left your cheeks, “then they win. Do you understand?” 

You shook your head. 

“They want to kill us, to kill your father and wipe our bloodline. To wipe our magic out.” 

Her eyes said; you’re the only hope, you’re our legacy.

A few more convincing words from both of your parents, and you ran for the hills. As soon as you tried to turn back, the wards were melded around you. To keep you away from any threats. 

Absolutely useless, but you forced yourself to watch as it happened. As they finally fell, as their heads were staked on the fence posts. The soldiers remained, but you could out wait them. You could memorize their faces, memorize the way they spoke, commit it to memory and find your vengeance one day. 

“Terrasen,” a familiar voice interrupted, “You’re in Orynth.” 

“Safe,” another said. Female. 

A memory, that’s what it was. You weren’t trapped in that moment, you could come back to the present. There was nothing holding you here, not now. 

“Good,” the male voice coaxed as your body relaxed, as you leaned into the sensations around you. Blanket, hands gripping yours, pine, snow, jasmine, and lemon verbena, the feeling of ancient magic - of fire, ice, wind, and a hint of water. Eventually, you managed to open your eyes. 

“I need you to tell us where you went,” Rowan said, even adding, “please, y/n.” 

How often had he said your names? How often does he say please? Words were effort, but when he asked so nicely, you could share. Trust, you reminded yourself. The small thread, a sign of the Goddess who watched over you, tugged and encouraged you. 

“The night before my parents died,” your voice was hoarse, your throat aching - like something dry had been shoved down it. “We were at a ball. We arrived home that morning, and they were waiting for us. Surrounded.” 

“When your parents died?” Aelin asked quietly. 

It hurt, gods it hurt so fucking much, but you told her the story - as much as you could manage, and she listened intently. Thankfully, there was no pity in her eyes - understanding, instead. That was much more palpable. 

-

Rowan thought he experienced the same thing as Aelin. When you shared the story about the dagger, but this time it was directed towards him. The entire time you shared, your eyes never drifted from him. 

A show of trust to him, and he’d take that gift and hold it close. Your trust was difficult to earn, and relatively easy to break. He’d treat it with caution, like he would any treasure. 

He was glad Aelin didn’t give away that he’d already told her the story. His wife was a good actress, and it shoved. The small bit of trust you showed him made him feel like a hypocrite. At the time, telling Aelin about your past felt essential, but now it resembled something of a betrayal. 

-

“How are you going to explain my presence?” 

Rowan and Aelin exchanged a glance, one that told you they’d already discussed this. Not surprising. 

“Even without the ball,” he emphasized, “we considered asking if you’d like to be an advisor to the court.” He held up a hand as your lips parted, and damn you, your mouth shut on instinct. At least he didn’t seem to gloat about it. “The wards around Orynth could use another look, and you have unique skills and expertise.” 

They actually value your opinion, you reminded yourself.  

“You swear it, without the ball you still would’ve?” You’re not sure why, but it really mattered to you. 

“I swear it.” 

Rowan’s promises are as good as gold when it comes to him, so you gave your agreement. Then started to plan what you’d do about the castle and city wards. Of course, you’d already had time to think about it. 

The ball would occur a week after beltane this year, when the last of the snow was predicted to abate, making travel tolerable.  

Time passed quicker than you thought was possible. Ceri turned eleven, her birthday falling on the spring equinox this year. As her present, you let her pick out her chickens, and you and Rowan teamed up to start teaching her how to shift. An argument wouldn’t be right, but you did have a few disagreements over teaching styles. At least Aelin was on your side for that. 

Then, it was beltane. Early that morning, you and Ceri went out to leave some gifts for the little folk at the crosspaths near your home. She’d spent a good portion of the previous day helping you craft them. Surprisingly patient and focused. Maypoles had been raised, hawthorn bushes decorated, and piles of wood gathering on the field before the city, waiting to be set alight. 

You didn’t walk out with the Queen and King, by the time you arrived the fires were already burning. Ceri’s friends had come over before, for an early dinner, and now trailed together in a small pack. 

“You know your signal?” You murmured to your daughter. A burst of magic, one to let you know if she needed you, with three different levels of urgency. 

“Yes,” she grinned up at you. Ceri was quite proud of herself for mastering that - as she should be. 

“Go on, then.” 

The four raced off, weaving in and out of the fires, brief flashes of silver hair were like a beacon. Heads would turn as she passed, followed by small whispers. Ceri had adapted easily to those, thrilled by the attention, it was you that needed adjustment. Needed to stop giving a death stare to anyone who watched a few seconds too long.  

Fenrys found you first, hanging out towards the edge of the fires, fully content to observe and watch. 

He was not content with that, instead he dragged you right into the heart of the celebrations. 

Thankfully, Aelin and Rowan didn’t try to drag you into anything. It was a time for the people to speak with their Queen and King, and you had plenty of exposure to the pair. 

“How did you escape doing all of that?” You jerked your chin towards where they were speaking with another group. 

“I came early,” he shot you a grin. His attention wavered, and you knew exactly who was making her way across the field. 

Ines, all auburn hair, freckled skin, and bright green eyes, strode for both of you - cheeks already flushed. You didn’t miss how her heart rate picked up when she spotted who was next to you. 

“Do I need to give you two a moment?” You murmured under your breath. 

“We’ve had plenty of those.” 

You groaned. Suspicion is fine, but you didn’t need confirmation. 

Ines gripped your hand, “we’re jumping over one of them,” she announced, “for luck.” 

“I know what it’s for,” you let her drag you anyway. When was the last time you’d done this? Maybe the year before Ceri was born. 

Picking a medium low fire, the two of you gathered your skirts in one hand, still holding onto each other, and kicked your shoes away. 

“One,” She grinned at you. 

“Two,” you shot one back at her, eyes lighting up. 

“Three.” 

With surprising coordination, you both launched yourself over. Heat skimmed the bottom of your bare feet, but you made it over without any burns. Ines, thankfully, did as well. 

Laughing, arms wrapped around each other, it took you longer than you cared to admit to locate your shoes again. 

-

Rowan watched you jump over the fire with your friend, his mouth turning up at the corners. 

Of course, you had to pretend you didn’t know each other, but you’d been at the same beltane celebration before, and he had the pleasure of watching you jump over fires. At least you remembered to hold your skirts up. He had to suffocate the flames last time. 

Aelin tapped his shoulder, “I’d give her a seven out of ten.” 

A genuine laugh left him, and she wound her arm around his waist, resting her head against his shoulder. He never took these moments, these reminders of the peace they fought for. 

Neither did everyone gathered around them. 

-

The celebration lasted into early hours of the morning, and it was near three when the fires finally died down. You’d trusted Evangeline to escort Ceri and her friends back to the castle, and mentally prepared yourself to head home. There were plenty others flooding through the streets, so it shouldn’t be any issue. 

Somehow, you found yourself roped into going into the castle. Fenrys informed you that their Majesty and Highness wanted to see you, and him - of course. Aedion and Lysandra joined you - a few bottles of wine each, Rowan and Aelin coming shortly after. Gods, you could drink, but northerners were on another level. 

-

“Stay the night,” Aelin insisted. “There’s no need for you to traipse through the streets after dark.”

“Are you certain?” 

“Yes,” Rowan huffed, like it was ridiculous you were asking for confirmation. It really was, they wouldn’t have offered if they didn’t mean it. 

This was nice. Aelin never took these nights for granted. The beltane celebrations, seeing her people at peace, out and enjoying the traditions squashed by Adarlan for a decade. She loved that you were here now, that you’d been brought into their lives. Now, she could count you as one of the people closest to her, and gods she hoped you felt the same. 

They might not have convinced you to live in the castle, but having you spend a few nights here - she’d take it over nothing. Just having you in Orynth was heaven. 

Aelin decided the little bit of wine she had could explain these thoughts. Very inappropriate thoughts about you, about the mother of her mate’s child. She hated herself for reducing you to that, rejected the thought as soon as it drifted inside her mind. You were more than just a mother, even if you didn’t always see it that way. 

A foot nudged her leg, tracking her back to the present. 

“You’re staring,” Rowan murmured. You were caught up in conversation with Aedion, but Fenrys kept shooting Aelin wary looks. She didn’t bother trying to stare him down, only looking at Rowan, her eyes saying; sorry. 

Why? 

She’s very pretty, came out. She hadn’t had enough wine to blame these thoughts on. These were the thoughts of sober Aelin, just flowing more freely this time. 

His eyebrows flicked up in amusement, I’m aware. 

Right, he did put a baby in her. The thought didn’t make Aelin jealous, she almost wished she was there … 

“It’s so weird when the two of you do that,” Aedion’s voice cut her off. 

“Deal with it,” Rowan growled, before turning back to her. You should do something about that little crush of yours. 

Maybe I will. 

-

Rowan cut off the wine after another bottle, all but kicking Fenrys, Aedion, and Lysandra out. It was nearing five in the morning now, and even with nothing planned in the morning, it was getting late. Besides, he and Aelin wanted you in here - alone with them. When you rose to leave, Aelin grabbed onto your hand, tugging you back down. 

“Stay a while,” she insisted, squeezing your hand. Rowan carefully monitored your every reaction. Aelin wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tugging you into her side like she usually did. He didn’t think it was entirely romantic on your part, at least that you knew, but he saw how you practically purred with the touch, how much you loved it - acted like you needed it. Everything was going to plan. 

-

Aelin pulled away, and you frowned - instantly missing the warmth of her body. But, her hand trailed up your arm, stopping to cup your jaw. When you didn’t pull away, she wound another arm around your waist, tugging you closer, her eyes scanning your face. 

“Fuck it,” she muttered, and her hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling your lips to hers. 

At first, you froze. But when she didn’t stop, you followed her lead, falling into her rhythm for a few moments before reality caught up to you. With a gasp, you pulled away from her. 

She had a hungry look in her eyes, watching like she was waiting for a moment to pounce again, to take you back and claim you. No, no, no. You found Rowan’s eyes, an apology right on your lips, but a shake of his head stopped you as he stood, crossing the room to sit on your other side. His finger pressed against your cheek, turning you to face him. Even as he had your attention, he didn’t move his hand, only sliding it to cup your jaw. An intimate touch. Aelin’s arm was still wrapped around your waist. 

“Are you going to deny her, deny Aelin, what she wants?” This question felt like a trap. 

“Wh-what do you mean?” 

“Do you really need me to spell it out for you?” Rowan’s eyes lit with amusement - and something else, something familiar. Familiar enough it terrified you. 

Aelin twisted you, now so you faced Rowan, her other hand twining itself in your hair, tilting your head to the side. Her lips pressed against your neck, trailing up the side. Your head fell, granting her more access, a small whimper slipping past your lips. She didn’t bite, but nipped at the skin - right where your neck met your shoulder. Did she know how significant that was? Apparently so, because she chuckled behind you. 

She was purposefully holding you here. Keeping you where you’d lock eyes with Rowan, where he could watch the two of you. His knuckle grazed your cheekbone, a small ‘this is fine,’ and cemented it with a small nod. 

That was all you needed, before you twisted back around, letting Aelin’s lips meet your own. 

-

Aelin decided, first, that she’s very glad she did something about her ‘little crush.’ Next, she decided you were a fantastic kisser, and she needed to figure out how to repeat this experience. Preferably as often as possible. 

When you finally pulled away, desperately sucking in air, she took the chance to glance at Rowan. 

She’s good. His brows flicked, but he didn’t comment. Isn’t this the part where it’s your turn?

Aelin ran her thumb over your lips, keeping your attention on her while she waited for Rowan’s response. 

What do you think? She hadn’t heard him this unsure in a while. It was rather endearing, to see him caught off guard. 

Aelin looked back down to you - to your puffy lips and bright eyes, and lowered her voice. “Rowan wants to kiss you,” she said, and watched for your reaction. First, your eyes widened, and then you glanced over your shoulder quickly, before turning back to her. You wanted her permission. Maybe for her to make the choice for you. Something Aelin could easily do. 

“Are you going to deny him?” She teased, copying Rowan’s earlier words. A snort from behind her, but sure enough you were pulled away. Even Rowan had limits to his patience. 

Watching the two of you, how his hand gripped the back of your head, the other cupping your jaw, your arms hesitantly resting on his shoulders, Aelin realized she might be something of a voyeur. At least with the two of you. 

He took control, tilting your head exactly where he wanted you, and you easily followed. Seamlessly, effortlessly. Aelin felt like she was viewing a memory, something from deep in the past, and didn’t find herself jealous. 

You pulled away, “I think… I think that’s all I can handle for tonight.” 

Lips bruised, hair messed, and cheeks flushed, Aelin wanted to keep you here, but she wouldn’t push. 

-

Rowan ended up walking you back to your rooms, taking a step inside before closing the door gently. 

He gripped both of your shoulders, making sure your eyes were on him. “Don’t overthink it.” 

“Easier said than done.”

Arms wrapped around you, tugging you right into a hard and warm chest. Easily, you wrapped your arms around him. This was familiar, this was safe. 

“We both wanted it,” he rubbed circles into your back. Maybe he sensed you needed reassurance. 

“Let me guess, you made a plan?” You joked. 

Rowan didn’t answer, and you tilted your head to look up at him. He had an unapologetic grin on his face. Eyes rolling, a laugh came from your chest. Brushing hair away from your face, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“Don’t run away in the morning,” he said and you dropped your arms. Taking a step back, keeping his eyes on you, he gripped the doorknob. Another smile, and he slipped out the door. 

“Goodnight to you too,” you called down the hallway. 

-

Thirty minutes later, you paced inside of your rooms, the haze fading, and traced your finger over your now bruised and puffy lips. Had that really happened? Had you imagined it? 

Definitely not. 

Are you going to deny her? Are you going to deny him?

Oh fuck. 

Bracing your hands on the counter, you took a deep breath before looking in the mirror. Facing you, was a female with flushed cheeks, messed hair, bruised lips, and a glow. A female who looked free. 

It’s a shame freedom has its costs, because this couldn’t happen again. 

taglist: @holb32 @fussel9913 @moonlightttfae @cassianswh0reeee, @reidishh 

[thewickedspinster]

The Protector & the Prince (Aedion Ashryver x Reader)

a/n: this character and plotline has been in my head ever since i read throne of glass, so i'm lowkey thinking of making this a series? to explore the character and also her relationship with aedion? because there is a criminally low amount of aedion love out here (i'm happy to provide). lmk your thoughts in the comments!

content: aedion x fem!reader, aelin x reader platonic, rowan whitethorn ofc, spoilers for empire of storms & kingdom of ash, slight au where reader is taken by maeve instead of aelin

requested by anon

The Protector & the Prince

The dawn was chill and damp against your cheeks. Dew rose from the meadow below, kissing your hair and skin. Welcoming you home.

In the rocky hollow behind you, the Bane packed up camp. They were battle-weary, exhausted to the bone after years of fighting in the mountains. Last night at dusk, when the company had stopped, you had just been able to make out the spires of Orynth across the next hill. It had been a trial in will to halt, to take stock, to rest before making the final push across the Staghorns.

Today, you would return to the home you had been forced to abandon, to the people you called your own. To your queen. To your friends. The war had been won, they said. Word had come over the mountains in the form of a white-tailed hawk; the king himself had come to find you and call you home. He had said his queen commanded it.

Against your will and better judgement, the memories of the past decade flowed freely as you and your company hiked down into the vale, then up the other side, crossing the last line of mountains. The loss of Aelin, the fall of Orynth, the Assassin's Guild, the land of Erilea, the return of magic, and the nightmares of war. Yet by midday, Terrasen unfolded before you, green and golden as ever. Your heart strained against its cage, and the Bane's pace hastened to the city's gates.

When you had last seen this city, it had been white and glistening, a kingdom in its prime. You were but nine years old, a nameless child with no family, no wealth, who had been taken in by King Orlon, of all people, to guard his young niece and heir, Aelin Galathynius. Since, your fae lineage had been revealed, and his choice in you had become clearer; only you could have followed Aelin to the ends of the earth as you did. Only you could have kept her safe.

Now, Orynth was rebuilding. The people had begun to return, but their wariness was palpable as they turned from their work to observe the Bane walking down the main thoroughfare. Some bowed, but there was no fanfare. There was little room for celebration as the dust of war settled, and the work began.

Your mind was a muted whirlwind of thoughts. You had little idea what to expect upon seeing Aelin. You hadn't seen her since the day on the beach, when you had been taken by Maeve in her place. The war done, you no longer knew your place.

Besides all this, your heart pounded for entirely different, unwelcome reasons.

Aedion would be here.

Aedion, Aelin's cousin, the Wolf of the North, fearsome general and protector of a fallen kingdom, had always been your best friend. Your first friend in Orynth, the lifeline you held onto while training with Arobynn. Your closest confidant. The only person you needed. And gods, did you need him now, with the uncertainties rising and the past creeping in... As you approached the towering doors to the castle, you actually considered whether you could do this.

The walk up the sweeping marble steps took a millennium. Untouched, no one had been able to steal their grandeur, though the great doors were still missing. One step over the mighty threshold, two steps, and you had yet to collapse. Three steps, and you were blindsided, barreled into with such force you stumbled.

"Y/N," came Aelin's shaky breath in your ear. She clutched you close, her fingers digging into your leathers. You clung to her in turn, holding her as tightly as you could, breathing in the smell of her, free of blood and iron. "You made it."

"Hi," you laughed breathlessly. "Gods, Aelin. Hi."

And suddenly, everything was entirely right in the world. You were home. You were with your best friend. You had made it.

Reluctantly, Aelin let you go and addressed your company. The Bane, ever having been Aedion's to command, had been given to you in the wake of your return to the continent. You had earned their respect, earned your place as their general. But they were, of course, Aelin's to command. Her arm still around you, she thanked them and dismissed them.

Before you knew it, you'd been swept up to a grand chamber, Aelin with you, to wash and eat. Your head swirled with the welcome, with the shock of being back in this place you'd once called home. She spoke softly, bringing news of Rowan, Chaol, Dorian, Elide, and Manon. She skirted talk of fighting, of that day on the beach, and for that, you were grateful.

"How is Lysandra?" You asked, pulling a comb through your wet hair. The sun was setting, but you would luxuriate in this time with Aelin for as long as she'd allow. "I heard she became a sea dragon."

"She did. That, and more." Aelin laid out a tunic on the bed for you, and it all felt too much like evenings at the Guild, preparing for grand soirées (and murders). "Her and Aedion have finally made up. Thank the gods for that - the tension was borderline unbearable."

Your eyes flicked to hers in the mirror, but only just. You blamed the exhaustion for the way your heart stuttered. "I'm glad to hear it. One big happy family, right?"

She snorted. "Yeah, a right happy home we've got."

A knock came on the door, and a servant entered, summoning Aelin to her council chamber. The young queen groaned, but you saw how she straightened - how the mantle settled on her shoulders in a way that no longer looked entirely unbearable. She turned to you, saying, "You should rest, Y/N. Eat up here, and we'll talk more tomorrow."

You turned to look at her in full, smiling faintly, strained. "Tomorrow."

Your queen disappeared. In the sudden dimness of twilight, you were alone.

But, you supposed, there was a tomorrow. That alone was enough to help you breathe.

~~~

Dawn came too early. Despite your fatigue, you'd hardly slept. First, it was the dreams. Then, it was the contemplation. Would Aelin send you away? What would she have you do in service of her court? Would you even have a place? As a demi-fae of no noble birth and little standing, all you had was your training. Your violence.

You supposed that was worth something.

It was what drove you down to the training yard in the gray light before the sun, moving through the familiar dance of swordwork. Before long, sweat poured down your spine. As the sun rose over the yard, more soldiers came to train, though they hardly had a swordmaster to tutor them. Quietly, you placed your weapons back on the racks and slipped away, unnoticed.

It was down the second stone corridor you turned, then, that you first heard the soft laughter, the hushed tones.

"Isn't it too early for this?" A gasp, a giggle. "Surely there's a better place."

"No one will come down here. Besides, it's never too early for this."

You stopped dead. You knew that voice. You'd know that voice anywhere. You'd heard it in your dreams. You'd followed it in your darkest moments, guiding you home.

You turned on your heel and stalked in the opposite direction, chest aching, as the sounds of Aedion and Lysandra's tryst faded behind you.

~~~

Aelin had called a meeting for midmorning, and you were notified last moment. You were still straightening your fancy new attire - silver, threaded with dark vines - as you entered the privy chamber. It was nearly exactly as you remembered. Eerily exact, as it was. You kept thinking you'd see King Orlon leap out from behind the curtains to say it had all been a cruel jest.

Luckily, you'd had plenty of time to right yourself, as Aedion was embarrassingly late. Though you knew the likely reason why, you kept your mouth firmly shut, instead braiding your hair and reporting to Rowan Whitethorn on the state of the Bane. When that was through, and only then, did the doors open once more, and Prince Aedion swept in, not a hair out of place.

"Forgive the delay, Aelin," he said softly when his cousin gave him an arch look. "There were... urgent matters to attend to in the yard."

Rowan grunted, "Those soldiers need a proper swordmaster."

"Which is why we're all here," Aelin said, as if it were obvious. She was clearly bored with the court business, but she looked between you and Aedion as though she were expecting something... more. After an awfully long pause, she continued. "Now that we're all together again, I figured some rearranging of duties is in order. Aedion, the Bane are yours, should you want them. And Y/N, my Queensguard is yours."

Aedion looked satisfied, but you were rooted to the spot with shock. "Aelin, your Queensguard? Why not have Chaol do it, or something?"

"Because Chaol has his own wife, child, and parcel to handle."

"You're more capable," Rowan chimed. "Wouldn't have anyone else protecting my wife."

"I'd also like you to be my envoy to Rifthold, for the time being." You actually had to take a seat. The closest one was a large armchair adjacent to Orlon's massive, ancient desk. "You know the city - and the affairs of Adarlan - better than any of us. And Dorian asked for you. You're a far better diplomat than I ever was."

"You were simply never a diplomat," Aedion said flatly, but his attention was fixed on you. Had been since he entered the room.

"Thanks, I know." Aelin flipped her hair over her shoulder, perching on the edge of her uncle's desk. "Much more of a decisive type, don't you think? Anyways, Y/N, would you accept both positions?"

You truly had to think a moment. You were reeling, your breath coming shortly. You had feared that Aelin wouldn't have work for you, and now, you were to captain her Queensguard and act as envoy to Adarlan? The responsibility almost seemed too much to take on.

Without thought, you glanced over to Aedion, who was still watching you. You caught his scent as you did so, and the desire to launch yourself into his arms after so long apart, after such hardship, after thinking you'd both die, took your breath away. But he was steady as he watched you, and as he nodded once.

You returned it. Rose, squared your shoulders, and bowed to your queen. "I'd be honored to accept both charges."

Aelin and Rowan shared a glance this time, before Aelin said, "Don't answer right now, Y/N, but there was something else I wanted to ask." You quirked a brow. "If you'd join me, I'd have you as one of my bloodsworn. You've followed me through everything, given up everything for me, and there is no one I can count more loyal than you. I would have you by my side, in all things."

The blood drained from your head, but you felt uncommonly steady. You couldn't give her an answer, but you could reassure her that you weren't going anywhere.

You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around her, and she returned the embrace fiercely, burying her face in your shoulder. "My path has always been beside yours. Past and future. Not going anywhere."

Aelin lifted her head, eyes teary and brilliant. "Never again."

Flashes of the smell of iron, the taste of iron, the smothering of iron. Of a cell, of shattered realities, of a white wolf. They haunted your sleeping and waking moments. Had consumed you for so long.

The meeting was, for all intents and purposes, over. After parting, you gave barely a fleeting glance at Aedion, unable to deal with that emotional disaster at present, and strode from the room, already calling for all soldiers to report immediately to the yard.

You had work to do.

~~~

A month had passed, and your life was consumed with dust, sweat, the grunting of fighters, and the clash of steel on steel. You had selected a Queensguard from the soldiers who'd been in the city, but training them was something else entirely. They'd all seen combat in the war, of course, but that didn't mean they even knew how to swing a sword without tearing a muscle. It had been nigh on ten years since Orynth had had an organized militia of any kind. You were starting from scratch.

The men and women you'd selected were, of course, learning quickly. You wouldn't have chosen them if you didn't think them trainable. But they were reaching a plateau, and their progress was slowing. You were spending long hours training under the blistering sun, and even longer hours planning rotations and the coverage of major events in the castle. Aelin needed two guards with her at all times, and given the state of the Queensguard at present, you hardly trusted any of the new additions to protect her without you present.

Aelin's queendom was in its infancy, making it particularly fragile. Anyone could come for her - or the king - in an effort to change the political balance. It was something you couldn't chance, even if both king and queen could protect themselves admirably on their own.

All that being said, it was well into the evening, and you couldn't recall the last time you'd slept more than three hours. Or eaten a meal, actually. You sat back and threw down your quill, rubbing at your eyes. They'd grown weak and scratchy as you wrote by candlelight. The moon hardly helped, casting a silvery glow across the floor of your chambers.

A knock came at the door, and you didn't bother to sit up before calling, "Come!"

"Prince Aedion, Commander Y/L/N," the servant said. A second later, Aedion stepped in, shutting the door behind him in the servant's face.

You were still, watching him from under your brows as he approached your desk.

He stopped before you. "You look like hell."

"Thanks."

"That's a compliment."

"An absolute charmer, you are."

"I only mean to say you've been working hard. Aelin appreciates it."

"I know she does."

He suddenly looked like he was at a loss for words, something he hadn't been around you for... ever.

"Have you slept?" He finally managed.

"Do I look like it?" You gestured to your desk. "Lots to do. And I'm due in Rifthold next week."

"Are you going to take the blood oath?"

You sighed. "Don't you have something more useful to do than interrogate me?"

"I don't, actually," he snapped back, anger sparking. "Nothing more important than making sure you're alright."

"Funny, I thought you had a kingdom to defend. My mistake."

"The Bane are getting well-deserved rest. And thank to you, they're in top shape." He crossed his arms. "You led them well."

"I'd assume you'd know that, considering it was you who wanted me to lead them."

"Only because you needed something to do that would keep you safe."

Silence swallowed you whole as you stared at him. Fury turned your chest cold, your fingers numb. "Keep me safe?"

"You had no business being near the final battle for Terrasen," he snapped back. "Considering what you went through at Maeve's hands, you couldn't have been ready."

"So you sent me to babysit your troops?" You hissed, rising to your feet abruptly. "Are you serious, Aedion?"

Aedion sighed, exasperated. He held out placating hands. "This is going all wrong, Y/N. I'm not trying to upset you. I'm trying to make sure you're okay."

"What, because I was tortured? I can assure you, I'm a big girl. I can handle a few nightmares."

"Because I can hardly believe that you've healed," he nearly shouted. You leaned back. He said, quieter, "Because I know you haven't. You're throwing yourself into work to distract yourself. But it won't work forever."

He couldn't know just how right he was. It hurt, like a raw blister, the way he saw right through you. The way you wished you could bare your soul to him, let him comfort you, let him take care of you. You'd never had that, but you'd only ever wanted it from him. Your jaw was tight with hurt, and with fury.

"I gave you command of the Bane because I needed someone I could trust in the Staghorns. No one else could have earned their respect as you did." Aedion's gaze softened. "And selfishly, I wanted to keep you safe."

"I can take care of myself," you said, rather childishly.

"I know that."

"I don't need you to look after me. Not when you have other people to worry about."

The last had slipped out, unbidden, and you immediately cursed yourself for even saying it. Straight away, Aedion knew. His eyes sharpened, and you were glad to have the desk between you as his eyebrows rose.

"Lysandra," he said simply.

You stared back at him. "It's only natural."

"What? That I... frolicked with her, or that you're jealous of it?"

You scoffed. "'Frolicked?'" Seriously, Aedion? Are we twelve again?"

"We may as well be, for how well I feel I know you right now."

"You've known how I've felt about you for ages, Aedion. I know you have. You're blind, but you're not that stupid."

"Well thank you for that," he said, anger entirely abated. The snark of his remark missed its target. "Honestly, I only knew because Aelin told me."

"She told you back in Rifthold. I know. Before Arobynn was dead. Before I was free of him. Right in the midst of a shadow war." You gave a one-shouldered shrug. "But you always knew me best, Aedion. You had to have known before. But whether you did simply doesn't matter."

"How could it not?"

You straightened under his piercing stare, under the question in his eyes. "Because I have a job to do, and so do you. Aelin will always come before me, and I would never let anything, even you, come before her."

Aedion's mouth curved into a sad smile. "I know that."

Put off by the starkness of his honesty, you added, "And to be clear, I wouldn't be jealous of Lysandra. Her and I have been through enough. She's beautiful, and more than that, she's good. You deserve her."

"Lysandra has gone to Wendlyn."

"What?"

"We... I thought we'd gotten over the deception leading up to you being taken by Maeve, but we hadn't. She requested to leave, and Aelin gave her a job across the sea."

You were dumbfounded. So much so that you had to sit down. Lysandra, Aelin, and yourself had been the only ones to know of your plan to glamour yourself before arriving on the beach that day to greet Maeve's forces. As demi-fae, you had few powers, but one of the strongest was casting glamours. It was part of why you'd been so successful as an assassin at the Guild. Glamoured as Aelin, you'd been the one to be taken that day to Doranelle.

Anything for Aelin. Anything. Always.

Your voice shook as you said, "I will not be your second choice, Aedion."

"I'm not asking you to be," he murmured. "I'm asking you if you're alright."

Nearly. You nearly bent and broke, straight into him. Your mouth wobbled, but you managed to stand straight as you whispered, "I don't know who I am, now the bloodshed has stopped." When he said nothing, you drew a deep breath and continued. "Which means I'll keep fighting until I can sleep through the night."

"That's not how this works," he said evenly, and finally, he reached out, stopping himself just as his fingers grazed your sleeve. "You don't get to do this on your own, Y/N. We've always done this together - let me help you."

"You couldn't understand, Aedion."

And it was true. The things you'd gone through at Maeve's hands, at Arobynn's before her, no one could understand, least of all this prince. But as he touched you, for the first time in years, you felt your will against him falter.

You could have him, you thought. He's right there.

"Let me try," he breathed. His gold-rimmed eyes were desperate, soulful. Full of something you'd hardly dared admit to seeing before. Before Lysandra, when it was just you and him against the world. Desire. Admiration. Love? "Let me take care of you, Y/N. You've spent your whole life caring for us. Let me shoulder the burden, just for a little while."

The space stretched between you and Aedion, infinite. A breath. There was the truth, you realized. And you whispered:

"I'm scared, Aedion."

"I know, sweetheart."

He sensed it before it happened, and was around the desk in an instant, even as you fell back into your chair. Your breath came shortly, your chest crushed beneath the iron vice of memory. You'd failed to realize what it was to be rid of the constant routine of fight or flight, and now, that freedom came crashing down upon you as a wave, crushing your breath into teary gasps of air. Into sobs.

But Aedion was there, perched next to you, drawing you as close to him as he could. He pressed his mouth to your hair, your temple, your cheek, murmuring that he had you. That he was sorry. That Lysandra was only ever a distraction. That he'd loved you since you were children. That he had you. That he wouldn't let you go.

That you were safe now.

When the sobs subsided, you managed to lift your head, to look up at him through bloodshot eyes. He gazed on you fondly, his own eyes limned in silver. His hand smoothed over your hair, a gentle caress.

"You are the strongest female I have ever known," he murmured. "You may feel lost now, but we'll take this on together. Alright?"

"You have some explaining to do," you replied with half-hearted severity. "Frolicking with Lysandra isn't entirely forgiven, I'll have you know."

"Figured it wouldn't be."

"But... Together?"

"As it's always been, Y/N." He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. "I swear."

"I'll hold you to it."

"Wouldn't expect anything less from my most fearless warrior."

You smiled, and leaned up just enough to take him by surprise, kissing him softly. With the tenderness of ten years of longing, of ten years of sacrifice and love.

He tasted of beginnings.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Night-Terrors | Aedion x Reader

Summary: After the war is over, Aedion is still tormented by nightmares, leaving you to soothe him.

Word Count: ~1k

Warnings: Mentions of death, yknow bc war, nightmares, but it ends good

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing for tog, so be patient with me, but I hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Aedion Ashryver believed he deserved this.

Aelin had used the three keys to forge the gate, to lock the Gods and Erawan away, but she’d given her life for nothing. Erawan remained, and the Gods had betrayed them.

The battle at Morath raged. Gavriel was dead, Fenrys and Lorcan well on the way. Their army was depleted, and the scent of death and suffering surrounded them. The Ironteeth had slaughtered all the Crochans and Manon’s Thirteen. The Myceniens were gone. Whatever remained of the ruhkins beyond their rotting corpses that had fallen to the ground days ago, Aedion didn’t know.

The wild people of the Wolf Tribe hadn’t come, and Dorian had probably been slaughtered by now. Where the older Lords had gone, he didn’t know either.

The battle went on until the Witch Towers were up, and with the amplified blast of the Yeilding, their entire army was ashes. Maeve and Erawan smiled at him, pure wickedness in their faces.

It was over. They lost.

Maeve slipped into his mind, and he was too weak to stop those icy talons from digging in. She gave him one last vision before the Wyrdstone collar clamped around his neck.

A world with no fire or flame, not a whisper of Aelin’s power, a world with no magic, only possessed by the tyrants of the world.

No light.

Valg infested the streets, spreading their stain of darkness until that was all Erilea was. Aedion couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. There was nothing and no one there for him, not even you, inside that broken realm.

Because he had failed.

Any last inch of spirit he had was when he tried to struggle against it, against them, but too soon did he hear a resounding click of stone against stone, and the coldness of it around his throat.

*********************************************************

You were half-asleep when you first heard his mumbling.

Sitting up and rubbing your eyes, your hair tousled by sleep, you saw Aedion writhing and struggling in his sleep. It wasn’t a sight that surprised you, not anymore.

The nightmares were a common occurrence for both you and Aedion, more so for him, and you’d slowly learned how to comfort him and help him through them, but never did he thrash this badly. And then he stopped, and you wondered if it was over.

You laid a gentle hand on his upper arm.

“Aedion?”

You whispered, and right after that, he jolted up. Before you could even move an inch, you were pinned forcefully against the bed, a hand around your throat and squeezing. He had a wild look in his eye, panic and fear flooded his scent.

“Stop—Aedion-“

You choked out, hands held down by him. You couldn’t move an inch, not beneath all his weight and pure muscle, especially with the hold he had you in. Muscle memory, most likely. Instinct too.

Right when your vision started getting splotchy, he must’ve realized what he was doing, because the pressure was immediately gone and he flipped onto his back beside you, sitting up, staring in horror. His chest was heaving as he panted for breath, silver lining his eyes.

“Oh gods, you’re-..you aren’t hurt, are you?”

He asked, his hands twitching as they went to go check you for any injury, before hesitating, knowing you might not want to be touched after what he’d done. You sat up, shakily taking in a breath, hands brushing over your throat before you took his in your own. They dwarfed yours, unsurprisingly.

“I’m fine, okay? Just..what happened?”

His eyes still shone with guilt, but he seemed more reassured by your hands in his. With a deep sigh, he squeezed your hands once. A few moments of silence passed, before he spoke, tears building.

“I don’t know, it was just a nightmare, but Aelin was gone, and we lost, and they put a collar around..”

His voice trailed off, and then the tears fell, and he was sniffling, his hands separating from yours to wipe them away. Your heart broke at the sight of your mate, terrorized by nightmares and tormented by them.

You scooted closer to him, arms sliding around his waist carefully, tentatively, until he leaned into you, folding into your arms and sobbing into your shoulder. Your hand soothingly ran circles on his back as he babbled nonsense against your skin.

Eventually, sobs turned to sniffles, and he shifted to lie down with you, pulling some of the warm blanket over you as his golden hair spilled onto the pillow. You moved your hands to stroke his hair, lightly scratching his scalp in a way you knew he loved. He opened his eyes again, peering up at you.

“You’re sure that you’re alright?”

He questioned quietly, concerned and guilty still. You nodded.

“Are you sure that you’re okay?”

You questioned right back, and he sighed, nodding. His arms wrapped tightly around you, as if he needed you to ground him back down to reality, so he couldn’t get lost in nightmares or dreams. His head buried right into the nook of your shoulder as he took a deep inhale of your scent, and relaxed further after that.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

You drowsily asked, and he shook his head.

“In the morning.”

He mumbled, and you gave a little hum of acknowledgment. Both of you had a habit of putting things off till morning, the discussion of his nightmare only being another one of them as you both began drifting off to sleep.

It was safe to say that Aedion Ashryver slept dreamlessly for the rest of the night.

[nameless-flame]

A BETTER WORLD

A Various! Record of Ragnarok x reader story✨

Snippet from Story:

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"Why do you hate the gods, Lady [Name]?" He had expected her face to contract in anger when he worded the question. Rage, resentment, animosity – anything of the like. But Hermes was instead met with a vacant smile. Her eyes void of any emotion.

"Because you do not know the feeling of loss, and yet you take."

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Summary:

“Four years”, she told herself. Four years had passed since the war. Four years since the people of Erilea had fought the Valg King and his forces and stood victorious.

“It’s over”, she told herself. But she could not deny that some of those scars had yet to heal – and a small part of her wondered if they ever would.

The queen looked over the horizon, at the land of sun-bleached cliffs and white-capped seas, of cascading waterfalls and flowing rivers. Looked at the home she had so vigorously fought to protect, to nurture. Looked at this land of beauty and wonder, and at the constructions of the city that were almost complete, as the locals merrily flocked the streets.

Looked at Terrasen; her home. Her kingdom.

“It’s over,” she repeated.

However, destiny must have not aligned with her will because not long after a mysterious figure appeared at the palace gates, requesting her to participate in a tournament that would decide the fate of humanity.

She felt inclined to say no. But the valkyrie’s next words made her reconsider.

“The gods wish to end humanity.”

And an opportunity like never before presented itself. A chance to punish those divine beings that had wronged her and her people. To exact revenge for what they had done to her world.

The queen accepted.

Quotev:

A better world (Record of Ragnarok x Reader) | Quotev

OR

Wattpad:

A Better World (Record of Ragnarok x Reader) - Sara2771 - Wattpad

[bookishgirl21]

A whole new world

Azriel x TOG!reader

PT 1 ?

Summary: You are Dorians half sister who goes with him and Aelin to forge the lock but you don't return with Aelin as tumble down to an unknown world

Being the bastard daughter of the king of Adarlan has never been easy, especially being half fae. The only reason why my father ever kept me around was because the believed me to have no magic, my mother said that I must never let anyone l know of my magic . So I've kept it secret for years until recent months.

"Close the wyrdmark once I've finished" Aelin says to Rowan, his nod is his only answer, as Aelin puts the wyrdstones in her arm and we're transportded to a place thats not a place and we begin fordging the lock...

"We can go home " I say with a smile on my face Aelin looks at me with a smile as big as mine " Lets go home" then we begin falling through the worlds , but we are falling to fast and as we see the world their are two fae standnig on a balcony we though out our arms as to signal them, thats when I feel my hand loose its grip on Aelins then I'm falling into the world, I hear Aeiln shout my name but its to late, she disappears into the next world.

I'm tumbling down from the sky, thinking this would be my end when I feel someone catch me , I open my eyes and look up to see who had caught me and see the man from the balcony, he's speaking to me but I don't here a word he is saying over the roaring of the wind.

As we land on the balcony , I take a moment to catch my breath when the man speaks to me in a language I've never heard, my confusion must have shown on my face because he stopped and looked to the female. I then spoke to them in the old language " Where am I ? " the male looked at me and said in the old language " You are in Velaris the city of starlight, who are you? "

" I'm y/n , can you help me get back to my please? " he looked towards the female again and spoke to her before answering " Hello y/n my name is Rhysand, will you please follow me and meet some of m people who might be able to help you"

I follow the two inside to what looke like an office " Please sit down, the others will be here shortly" the male Rhysand said, I took a seat on the lovely couch. There was a Knock on the door when two winged males walked in and a female with short black hair, as I looked at the males one was handsome in a rough way and the other male.....he was the most beautiful male I've had ever seen, he had shadows around him, they almost seemed alive.

the male said in the old language " Y/n this is Amren she is the most likely to help you home and these are Cassian and Azriel " Amren sad to me " Where are you from girl ? " "Erilea" I reply, I look at the male Azriel and see that he is already looking at me with some emotion in his eyes that i cant place. " It will take some time to find a way for you to get back home in the mean time Azriel will take you to a room here in the House of wind, where you may stay while we try and find a way home for you, we will have dinner soon Azriel will come by and help you to the dinning room" "Thank you for your kindness and willingness to help"

Azriel leads me to a room that will be my bedroom for the time being. ''This will be your room, my room is right across if you need anything'' I look around the room, its cozy theres a big bed in the middle of the room with creamy white sheets, their is big floor to celling windows, there is a door on the other side of the room which leads to a bathroom. '' There should be some clean clothes in the dresser over their and the bathroom is stocked with all the bathing things you'd need, I'll stop by later to take you to dinner'' I turn to him ''My Azriel I am here for about half an hour and you're already taking me to dinner'' I say with a sly grin on my face, he looks at me with shock clear on his face and stumbles with his words ''No, no, th-thats not what I meant, I'll come and-'' I laugh and say ''I know what you meant I was just pulling your leg'' he looks at me again and huffs a laugh '' I'll leave you to your bath''

I walk over to the dresser to see what cloths I could get, I choose a white with blue flower dress that looks comfortable, and can't help but think of how the blue looks likes Dorians eyes, tears fill my eyes, how long will I stay here in this unknown world with these people , I hadn't realized I was crying until I felt a tear drop on my arm. I wipe away my tears and head for the bath room.

I emerge from the bath room feeling slightly better after being clean and having a good cry, I didn't know exactly when dinner would be served so I decided to have a looked around what was to be my room, a bookshelf in the corner of the room caught my eye, was running my hand along the titles that I couldn't read when someone clears their throat behind me, I turn quickly my magic rising in me, ''I didn't mean to scare you'' Azriel apologizes, he's standing by the door ''It's alright, I didn't hear you knock or enter? '' he looks at me with that same look from earlier '' What '' I ask '' Nothing , it's nothing, come lets go to dinner and introduce you to the rest of our court''

My palms begin to sweat as we walk to the dinning room, nervous to meet these people, I can't help but wonder whats going on back home, is Aelin alright did she find her way back ? is Dorian alright? did they make it in time to save Terssasn? will I ever see any of them again? ''I can hear you thinking, I can promise you as crazy as these people may be we will not harm you unless you prove to be a threat'' I look out the corner of my eye towards Azriel and give him a tight lipped smile '' that was not at all what I was thinking but thanks for the input'' we enter the dinning room and Rhysand, Cassan, Amren and the female from earlier are already seated, then there is three new females at the table as well one sharp looking female sitting next to Cassian and the female sitting next to her looked like a softer version of the sharp female, sisters possiblely, and then there was the third female wearing a red gown.

Azriel guides me to a seat and pulls out the chair next to mine, '' know that we are all here let me introduce you to my people, this is my mate Feyre and those are her sisters Nesta ( the sharp one) and Elain ( the soft one, who is glaring at me from across the table) and my cousin Morrigan . Everyone this is Y/n'' I smile at them and give an awkward wave to them ''It's nice to meet you all''

After the introductions where done food just appeared out of thin air, my shock must have shown on my face because Cassian says with a grin on his face '' what they don't have magic where your from? '' I look at him with shock still in my voice '' we do have magic we're I'm from it's just...I've never seen things just appear from thin air'' ''They just come from thin air it was just simply moved from the kitchen to the table'' Rhysand says amusement  shinning in his face.

As dinner comes to end I can't help but feel as Elain has a problem with me, she has been giving me dirty looks the whole night, as I look over at her now she is whispering something to Nesta who looks me up and down, with a sneer on her face, I look away quickly, and Azriel bumps me with his elbow , I look at him and he leans in to whisper '' if you wish to leave you may just ask and I am more then happy to take you back to your room'' I nod slowly and rise from my seat '' thank you for the dinner I would like to go back to my room and rest'' Rhysand looks at me and gives a gentle smile of course, tomorrow I'll have Az come by your room so that we may start our course of finding you a way home''

As we walk back to my room Azriel is quiet, and I let curiosity win over me'' what are these shadows around you?'' he looks shocked at my question but answers my question '' they are... like companions they also help me with my job.'' ''oh, I like them.'' and as i say that one breaks away and comes close to my face and it almost looks like it tilts it head in curiosity , I giggle and it goes around my neck before returning to Azriel, ''they're adorable'' he looks at me with a soft smile and says ''we're here'' he opens my door for me and as I go in I turn to say goodnight when I bump right into his muscled chest, ''oh I'm so sorry I-'' I stopped talking as I look at him in the eye and my breath was knocked right out of me, he looks down at me with his mouth slightly parted, his warm breath hits my face and I feel myself heat up, we slowly start to lean in and I close my eyes when a voice breaks the moment and we pull away from eachother to see who it was, Elain stands a few feet from us with a innocent look on her face and speaks in her language towards Azriel. He looks back at me and says '' I.. I'll see you tomorrow morning'' its takes me a minute to reply ''yes, yes uhm right I'll see you tomorrow''

As I enter my room I groan, what was I thinking, I was just about to kiss him, this man who I barely know, I run my hands over my face and head to the dresser to look for some thing to sleep in. As I climb into my bed I can't help but think of that almost kiss with Azriel.

Part 2

AN: alright thats all for now , I will make a pt 2 if you all enjoy this part, the next pt will defiently have more Az x reader scenes, hope you enjoyed this fic, and feedback is greatly welcomed, also if there is a scene you would like to see I will definitely add it , sorry if there are spelling mistakes it's like 1 in the morning so😅

[moonlitstoriess]

Another crossover?

sooooo ummmm ehem ehemm *taps mic* an idea just struck me;)) and those who are here from the very beginning, know about my first post over here being about a crossover between throne of glass and acotar called Across the Universe (those who enjoyed this pls show yourselves in my comments 🥹😭). and I just thought why not go back to my origins lol and create ANOTHER acotar x tog crossover? However, this time, y/n is from Erilea and not Prythian;) The plots, the interactions, the conflicts, (the romance 😏) will be all different from my previous crossover (more jucier🤭). But, idk if I should even write it out cuz, idk if you guys would like to read it and you know, I try my best to put out stuff you will enjoy! so, I'm quite lost and I need urgent advice.

Please y'all, help your girl out😭🫨

Hint: If I do write it, it will be Cassian x fem!reader cuz for some reason, he gets less fics about him than Rhys or Az (atleast from what I see) so I'm ready to show him all the love over here🫡

But only if you all want me to;)

[nikethestatue]

I feel like BB is one of those companies that is successful, but you definitely are left scratching your head wondering why. They cosign or even instigate multiple articles about their biggest seller writing a new book and then publish their financials stating that book is basically over a year away still? What a waste of drummed up excitement. They basically just nuked any real online engagement (their favorite free marketing) until the actual announcement. I don’t think many people can rehash the same Elriel stuff again and again. Or other ships for that matter too. I mean, ive been around long enough to see people re discover Az waltzing for the third time. Third. There are posts pointing that out from 2021. There is no way that their online presence isn’t picking up on fandom burnout. Or, maybe they are just that company that succeeds despite questionable practices.

I am hoping that there is SOME logic to what they are doing. I know thye've been doing February releases, but maybe they want to do something new?

I don't know and don't keep up with other big authors and their release dates, but perhaps they are looking for a time slot that's not crowded? Like, I dont know when Yarros is publishing the next book, but perhaps they want to carve something out for SJM that doesn't have 12 other big releases at the same time?

I know there is a BIG difference between the emotions of the fandom and the financials of the shareholder meeting. Shareholder don't care about shipwars and Gwynriel vs Elriel. So yesterday's meeting was obviously about money and performance, and didn't center around SJM.

I personally think that the challenge for them and for SJM right now, is how to sustain interest in ACOTAR past the next book.

And I don't know who it will happen. So whatever she is writing right now, needs to have a 'hook' for the continuation of the series. Because once we've ran out of Bat boys and Archeron girls, then what?

(My suspicion is that she is gonna end it with Aelin arriving or someone going to Erilea). But SJM needs to build all of it out.

She wrote herself into a corner with CC x ACOTAR. And I think BB know that readers werent pleased with the crossover and the book in general.

So maybe they are making her take the time and produce something decent for once?

[utterlyotterlyx]

A Ballad of Storm and Shadow

Azriel x F!Reader

Part Six

Series Summary - Rhys had been content in taking the darkest secret of his family to the grave, but when the threat of Hybern increases, he has no choice but to send a message to another world and pray to the Mother that his call is answered.

Warnings - mentions of pain, mentions of death, mentions of torture, angstttt, sadness, fluff

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

This is a crossover series, some aspects will differ from that in the books. Physical attributes are described in this fic, it is essential to the storyline of the character

It had taken 17 hours for y/n to stir.

17 hours of Azriel sat at her bedside hating himself for allowing her to venture from the cabin alone and picturing himself grabbing her hand at the last second to stop her from leaving him.

17 hours of verbal beatings which would have been physical if it weren’t for his refusal to leave her side.

Aelin was furious, her wildfire blazing as blue as her eyes across each one of her limbs.

Rowan hadn’t spoken a single word, but his eyes didn’t leave Azriel for one moment, and he hadn’t unclenched his fists from the moment he had stepped foot into Prythian and scented the direness of the situation at hand.

Lorcan and Aedion also refused to move from the room, being her bloodsworn they had a duty to protect and serve her, and they felt as if they had failed in a sense.

Then there was Manon, the gold eyed witch queen with talons so sharp that they had drawn blood from Azriel’s arms when they coiled around him and demanded to know what had happened with a voice so venomous that he was sure she would drink his blood if she could.

In short, everyone despised him, and even Rhys was reluctant to offer a safe hand to his brother. Azriel understood, Rhys had only just gotten his sister back, and was feeling like a failure in his own way for sending her in the first place. Rhys was so ashamed of his request that he had allowed Aelin to preside over y/n’s care with Yrene, as well as the scouting missions she had ordered Rowan and Manon to embark upon to ensure that no attack would befall the city whilst y/n was injured and vulnerable.

The last 17 hours hadn’t been kind to y/n. Black poison poured from the bandages secured around her chest and abdomen, which meant that Yrene had to change them more often, and a fever so damning had taken over her body, causing the Queen of the Erilean Fae to sweat and shake uncontrollably whilst her body fought an internal war to win back her life. It was horrible to watch, and it all could have been avoided if Azriel had been there, flying below her and ensuring no one could pick them out of the skies, or if Rhys hadn’t sent them to begin with.

Azriel could picture it. A fond and vivid image of y/n flying above him. The rain would cause her raven black hair to stick to her skin, but it was the thin wisps of baby hair that stuck to her forehead that made the faintest of smiles to appear on Azriel's lips. Y/N seemed so unbothered up there, so... at home. Much like he found solace in the shadows, she found songs in the storms. A peace that could never be tainted.

That's what he willed himself to see when he looked upon her pallid, fever-stricken face. He willed himself to see the version of her that she would have wished. One where she was happy. One where she was plagued by serenity.

None of them could pinpoint how Hybern had known that y/n was in Prythian, or how they knew that she even existed in order to create the only poison that could be used to weaken and fatally harm her. Even Yrene had uttered that the ingredients were sparse even within Erilea. It meant that someone had spent valuable time collecting and crafting in order to inflict the pain onto y/n. Azriel swore to himself that whoever it was would die for it in the most curdling manner his mind could fathom.

It was within the thirty second minute that she stirred, her kaleidoscope orbs appearing beneath her fluttering lids and a small groan of torturous pain emitting from her lips. Azriel moved from the chair beside her to the mattress in a matter of seconds, disturbing the peace by shouting into the void for Lorcan and Aedion to call for Yrene, and the healer came quickly at their demands barrelling down the halls.

Yrene was closely followed by Aelin and Manon, the latter of which growled once she spied Azriel’s marred flesh tainting the purity of her queen. The red cloak of Manon swept against the stone beneath her feet, her claws were retracted but her teeth were poised to rip the throat out of anyone who got too close, Azriel included. Not wasting a moment, Yrene crossed the room whilst fastening her apron at her back, reaching out to lay her hand on y/n’s forehead and stealing it back with a hiss and the scent of burning flesh. “How are you holding her?” Yrene asked, perplexed, holding her burnt hand to her chest.

To Azriel, y/n felt hot, but not searing, not burning. From the beads of sweat that teared down her pallid cheeks, he knew that she was struggling to fight off the poison and the infection that came with it.

The Shadowsinger didn’t answer.

Instead, he kept his hazel eyes upon her face, tracing the slow beat of her eyelids and the quaking of her gasping lips as she attempted to form a word. “Y/N,” Azriel cooed gently, causing y/n to stop trembling for a moment, “To me,” he told her, pulling her darting eyes from the ceiling and to his face, “You need to save your energy and rest. Close your eyes and sleep. Let Yrene heal you.”

It wasn’t as much as a command as it was a plead, but she listened, shakily nodding her head and shivering into slumber, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

He felt the golden eyes of the witch queen on the side of his face, Manon couldn’t understand how y/n hadn’t noticed her at her side, she couldn’t understand how y/n’s eyes found Azriel instantly over her own. Azriel moved his gaze to meet those orbs of gold and speckled black, refusing the back down even if he did find her terrifying. “She needs Doranelle,” Manon spoke, not to Azriel despite him being in her eye line, but to Aelin who stood behind her, and to Rowan who was propped against the doorway.

“We’re stuck here,” Aelin reminded her, making it clear that she had already thought the same but knew it was impossible without y/n’s power to rip open the fabric of space and time to take them there. Aelin dropped to her knees beside y/n, the fire coursing through y/n’s veins battling against her own, and she ran her fingers down the side of her face, worry clear and fear prominent. “This King,” Aelin spat, “Knows what he has done. Your war will be coming sooner than you think, and he’ll seek to destroy her along with it.”

“I won’t let him,” Azriel growled, tone low and threatening, and eyes peeking through the thickness of his lashes whilst his hand kept entwined with y/n’s like he was her link back to the land of the living.

Aelin honed in on Azriel, drinking in the dark possessiveness in his eyes and the way his shadows flitted over the skin of her dearest friend, almost as if they were trying to shield her from the world.

It wasn’t like Aelin truly blamed the Shadowsinger for what happened to y/n, she knew first hand just how difficult she could be when it came to anything she felt determined to do. In all honesty, Aelin blamed Rhys the most and had told him plenty of times of the fact. Y/N was Rhys’ sister, he knew how important she was to other worlds let alone his own, and he willingly put her in danger. Such motions threatened the survival of Prythian, and by extension, Erilea.

The feelings of Aelin were probably why Rhys had stayed away, waiting for the rest of them to leave for the evening before spending the night at her side, reading and telling her stories of their father and sister to then only leave at the break of dawn when Lorcan and Aedion would arrive. Azriel was the only one who stayed every minute of every hour, refusing to be anywhere else, out of guilt or desperation Aelin would never truly know, but part of her was thankful for it.

Do you see it?

Aelin craned her head over her shoulder to find Rowan’s orbs fixated on the pallid body of his friend and former princess, a woman he had spent centuries protecting and training. His sight pulled from her to Aelin and he nodded, eyes flickering to Azriel who had turned all of his attention back to y/n.

Yes.

The yawning of Aedion who was sprawled across a chair in the far corner halted Aelin from probing Rowan further. The unimpressed guise of the chamber fell upon him, “Tired, Cousin?”

Aedion shrugged, motioning to Lorcan with a wave of his hand, “She’s funnelling our energy through the bond. Forgive us for feeling a little lethargic, Aelin.”

“What do you mean? She’s funnelling your energy?” Azriel asked, brows furrowed and trying to grasp the meaning in his mind.

Sighing, Aelin explained, “Y/N is incredibly powerful,” she smiled upon y/n sadly, “There are aspects of her power that she refuses to use, abilities of the darkness that she inherited from her mother, Maeve. She can absorb strength from those sworn to her and from those who offer their power to her,” Aelin nodded toward Aedion and Lorcan with her eyes softening, “Y/N is absorbing the strength and energy from Aedion and Lorcan, they are her bloodsworn, and her body is in such a bad way that it seems the dark spots of her power are grasping onto anything they can to keep her alive.”

“It’s happened before?”

Aelin smiled thinly, trying to offer some comfort to Azriel who was beginning to understand the pain inflicted upon the woman before his eyes, but before Aelin could reply, Manon’s voice echoed between them. “Once. She was in a much worse state after she destroyed Maeve, her power was drained for the first time in her life, and she was severely injured from what Maeve did before the battle. All of that put her into a state of comatosis. It took her weeks to wake.” From the heaviness of Manon’s recount, Azriel knew just how close they were, all of them, so he understood why they blamed him, hated him.

“I’m sorry that I let her leave the cabin. I’m sorry,” Azriel spoke, staring right into Manon and trying to decipher whatever emotion lay within those cold golden orbs.

Rising to his feet, Aedion crossed the room, nudging a lingering Rowan on the way, “It’s fine. Y/N is a stubborn thing, she’s pulled the wool over all of our eyes at some point.”

“Like when she sacrificed herself to secure my freedom?” Aelin asked with a smile, leaning to run her fingers along y/n’s arm.

“Or when she trailed the ilken following Elide and I and slaughtered them all without us even realising it?” Lorcan huffed with amusement, creeping closer to the bed with humour in his eyes and his arms firmly folded over his chest.

“Then there’s Skull’s Bay,” Rowan almost sang, the words being the first noise he had made since he had arrived in Velaris and the room hummed in fond remembrance.

“And we won’t ever forget how she took possession of that burst dam and swallowed Maeve along with it. She saved us all that day, even when she was barely alive,” Manon spoke softly, a speckle of humanity shining through her soul shrouded in stone, “She’s family,” was all the witch queen said, an olive branch of sorts, an explanation as to why she had been so difficult.

Noting the concern in Azriel’s eyes, Aelin lay a hand upon his shoulder, gentle but unyielding, “She’s survived worse, Shadowsinger. Don’t underestimate her, you won’t survive the humiliation.”

Silenced followed after that, well, silence for Azriel at least. Whilst he traced the contours of her face, the rest of the room spent some time reminiscing, talking fondly of Erilea which Azriel somewhat listened to but didn’t engage with. All he could really wonder was what place could be so worthy of someone so perfect, and part of him wanted to walk the streets of Doranelle for a moment so that he would be able to understand it.

Only when Yrene would periodically swim by would Azriel lift his eyes to give her a thankful smile that she would return with an unspoken warmth. It seemed as though y/n had a family of her own, just like he did, a family not of blood, but of unbroken bonds and unyielding wrathful friendship. They’d all die for one another, it was something Azriel could resonate with.

After an hour, the doors to the chamber opened and Feyre stepped in, fumbling with her fingers and eyes floating through the room until they landed on Azriel and Y/N, and she found her heart fluttering at the way he looked at her, it reminding her of how Rhys’ gaze embedded itself into her at all times.

The expectant void of words caused Feyre to float back into the room, “Rhys would like a meeting. We should discuss next steps in this war and in y/n’s recovery. Yrene can stay with her, it won’t take long.” Aelin rolled her eyes but stood, muttering something about a false king under her breath which caused Rowan to chortle a laugh as they passed by Feyre. “You too, Az.”

“I’ll take care of her,” Yrene told him softly once she realised the reluctance in his eyes and the way his fingers curled tighter around her hand, “If anything happens, I’ll call for you. I promise.”

Stiffly nodding, Azriel stood from his seat that was imprinted with his frame, he pressed his lips tenderly to the pallid and slightly bruised knuckles of y/n before laying her hand softly upon the mattress and following after Feyre, stealing one last look at the fussing Yrene as her glowing hands floated over y/n’s torso yet again.

Azriel trailed behind the group, lingering at the side of his High Lady as they all sauntered through the halls of the House of Wind. Whilst pacing through the fortress, Azriel couldn't help but allow his gaze to float between each one of the other-worldly beings. Beginning with Aelin and tracking how her arm slid around Rowan's waist, to Rowan who placed a tender kiss upon her brow, to Aedion and Lorcan who were bustling shoulder to shoulder, clearly being too large for the width of the halls, and then there was Manon, red cloak swaying at her back and moon-white hair braided over her shoulder whilst her eyes darted past every doorway like she could see beyond them.

Yes, Azriel was very sure of y/n's safety being almost a guarantee.

With all of his watching and observing, he didn't notice the eyes of Feyre drifting over his face with a quirked smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, "You don't leave her side. Why?" Feyre asked quietly, catching how his eyes thinned slightly as he searched his mind for an answer that would appease her.

"I feel guilty," he tried to say, but the heaviness of his voice betrayed his words.

Feyre gently slipped her arm around his, resting her fingers on the indent of his elbow and pulling him into her side softly. "No. I don't think that's why," she gave him a pointed look, one loaded with knowing, "You feel something for her, despite only knowing her for a few days. What draws you to her?"

A more adequate question would be what didn't draw Azriel to y/n?

"I wasn't sure at first. If you had asked me why I couldn't concentrate at the High Lord's Meeting then I would have told you the truth. It was because of her. Not because she was new, or because I thought she was a threat..." Azriel trailed off, his voice softening and shoulders falling lax, like all tension had floated away, "It was because looking at her made me feel like I was finally home. There is a warmth within her, and a darkness that mirrors my own. She is fierce and tortured, but gentle in ways no one would ever be able to begin to understand. Y/N has spent her life fighting, being used for what she can offer but not being appreciated for who she is, and I think that I understand that."

"So, you seek to protect her?"

"No," Azriel sighed, looking to Feyre with a sparkle in his eyes that she'd never though she would ever get to witness, "Well, yes. But I seek to give her a life free of torment. A life of love and one void of the restraints of her station. I seek to be her freedom, Feyre."

The High Lady of the Night Court found herself blushing from sheer excitement. Feyre had noticed it the moment y/n had waltzed into their lives, limbs exposed and hair flowing, eyes glowing with the light of a thousand storms; she had seen something spark, a cog falling into place after so long tumbling around without purpose.

"Does it help that she is the most beautiful thing to walk the universe?"

Azriel scoffed, "Her beauty is incomparable to what lies beneath it," he told Feyre, glancing sidelong with a smirk, "But I suppose she isn't half bad to look at."

Feyre tried to conceal her chuckle behind her hand as they both entered the dining room that Rhys had converted into a meeting room for the sake of convenience.

It was clear that sleep had escaped him, and what was even more pristine was the fact that Aelin could not have cared less about it as she took her place at the head of the table, further solidifying her position as leader of their little merged group. Rhys didn't contest, instead he simply moved to the opposing end, motioning for Azriel and Feyre to take a place either side of him.

A usually convivial dining table now swimming with discontent from two sides.

Aelin assumed her usual position. Legs propped against the tabletop. Arms folded over her chest. Dagger gleaming in the pale lights and reflecting upon the ceiling. A warning. A dare.

"Have you figured it out yet?" Aelin's head curled to meet Rhys' sight, "Have you figured out how this world knew of her and the only thing that can weaken her?"

Silence consumed the room like thick onyx poison, drowning and dimming all forms of barely there happiness. Rhys shuffled in his seat. He had to send himself on such a mission since he knew that Azriel refused to leave his sisters side, and he had come up empty handed.

The location of y/n's downfall had been left void of any traces of armies and magic, the only sign of this incident occurring being the blood soaked earth where Rhys had stood for an hour cursing himself for even thinking about sending her away when he had only just gotten her back.

If he could, he would go back and rip the order from his mouth. He'd carve out his own tongue to keep her hidden.

"No," Rhys spoke roughly with a throat that hadn't been quenched by water in what felt to him like days. "I assure you that such knowledge has never reached Prythian. I sent word to Helion and Thesan, enquiring if such a poison were in any of their libraries. There isn't."

Lorcan scoffed and glanced to Rowan who had his lip curled upward into a snarl from his place beside Aelin, "And you believe them?"

Sprinkles of magic littered the air, casting a faint shimmer that filled the spaces of the open arched windows whilst the faint sound of laughter from the mouths of little ones echoed upward to the House of Wind.

"I do," Rhys gulped. The High Lord of the Night Court ran a hand down his face that was soaked with exhaustion. "Helion and Thesan aren't only High Lords of Prythian. They are friends of the Night Court, and their lives have been dedicated to research and healing. They would never withhold such information."

"Forgive me for not believing a word of it," Aelin muttered, fingers tracing along the hilt of the dagger on the table. "Your enemy knew that she would come. He knew she would come looking for him, and he knew exactly how to ensure her death. If it weren't for that last burst of power that brought Aedion and Lorcan to her position, she'd be gone." Aelin leant forward in her seat, feet falling flat against the ground and venom laced in her words.

"You foolish man. Sending not only your long lost sister but our queen into the belly of a beast without being able to ensure her safety. Your world isn't the only one at stake here. If she cannot recover from this then your world will perish, and our world will have lost its fiercest warrior."

Manon chuckled, pulling the attention of the room to her, and Cassian who was placed beside her leant away from the talons she was running the pads of her fingers down lazily. "In other words, if she dies here, we'll ensure that you do too. Or well, I will," Manon flashed her iron teeth at Rhys, causing Feyre to shift uncomfortably in her seat as her fingers became entwined in his own, allowing her power to ebb and flow from her essence in response to Manon's threat.

Remembering his position, Azriel's eyes manoeuvred over Manon, then Aedion and Lorcan whose fists were clenched but possessed tired eyes, before landing on Aelin and Rowan who were struggling to contain themselves. Tendrils of shadow scattered over his shoulders, dancing wildly in a brisk wind from an opened door, sauntering up and down and shaking in rhythm with a silent, reverberating thumping that was grasping at and rattling his bones.

"I think it would be wise to refrain from talking to my brother like that," the room collectively snapped its gaze to the doorway, and Aelin rose to her feet instantly.

Before them all stood a pale but healing y/n. She was grasping at her side but walked forward with a pride Aelin had never seen before, not in someone who was hours ago so close to the grave. There was something dark about her, the power itself or the contrast of her hair and eyes against her whitened skin Aelin wasn't sure. But what was clear was that she knew something, the truth and ire dancing in the dimness of her eyes. Something that could change the course of all of their fates.

Y/N's silver skirt kissed the ground as she stopped at Rhys' side, laying her hand atop his shoulder and squeezing it weakly, "I can understand being protective," y/n moved her eyes around the room, slowly raking over each one of her Erilean family, "But don't be mistaken into believing that threatening my blood is big or wise. I decided to take to those skies alone. It is my doing and mine alone."

Azriel felt his heart stop when her eyes finally found him, and he stood instantly, offering his arm and seat and feeling a sense of completeness when she accepted his touch and found comfort in the sensation of his presence behind her.

"Y/N-"

"I'm not finished," a voice of dread and death cut through the plea that fell from Aedion's lips, a voice of a ruler, a voice of one of the most deadly beings the universe would ever know. Inhaling deeply, y/n closed her eyes for a moment, as though she was preparing herself for something, and in sensing her discomfort and hesitation, Azriel lay his hand at the top of her spine, allowing every emotion and ounce of pain to wash through his veins.

Y/N visibly relaxed.

"In my sleep, the attack played in my mind over and over again, not like a nightmare, but in a way to make me see the truth. To push me to see beyond the pain," her eyes were downcast, but she moved backward into Azriel's hand, feeling a blanket of certainty and warmth coiling around her frame. "When I was flying over their camp, I felt the power of the cauldron. It was a drowning feeling, it made me feel confused almost, and I felt a certain type of dread. I was scared."

Y/N's eyes dragged down the table, settling on Rowan with eyebrows tight and fear visible within her irises. "There has only ever been one form of power that has ever made me feel like that. Maybe I was too wrapped up in what was happening to realise it."

"What are you saying, y/n?" Rowan urged, knuckles turning pale from his grip around the arms of his chair.

Without thinking about it, y/n's fingers faintly traced over the scar that had held Azriel's attention in the cabin. A morbid reminder.

"Dorian and I had a theory. That souls from our world didn't pass on into the afterlife but rather fell through the plains separating Erilea from other worlds. It had only ever really been a theory, but it was something that we couldn't stop thinking about. It haunted us in a way."

Because they had both lost a parent.

"But being here now with a poison in my veins so putrid and complex that no one from this world could have ever known of it. I realise what is happening." Aelin leaned forward, gaze flickering over the face of her friend until their eyes met. "There is only one person who knows how to make it. Only one person who would find joy in seeing me dead. Only one person who would seek to ensure the upmost pain. Only one person whose power terrifies me."

Aelin's eyes blew wide. "No," she spoke a hush above a whisper, "It can't be. She's dead. You killed her."

"What's going on?" Rhys entwined his fingers with those of his sister, feeling her fear bristling against the walls of her mind like a battering ram, splintering and wrecking the cage of her consciousness.

Realisation was floating about the room, to all those bar the Inner Circle. Rowan's head hung low, his eyes closed and nostrils flaring with each inhale and exhale, and Aedion couldn't lift his eyes from the tabletop.

"Maeve is here. My mother has come to punish me by devouring your world. Only when you're all dead will she kill me, and then can she conquer Erilea for the final time. Who knows, she might even keep me alive long enough to watch Doranelle and Terrasen burn." Y/N turned to Rhys, bottom lip almost wobbling, "I'm sorry. This is happening because of what I did."

Rhys dropped to his knees before her, taking her burning face in his hands and stroking his thumbs along her cheekbones. "We'll face it. We'll face her. And may the Mother grant her some mercy when I get my hands on her." He read the depleting light in her eyes, knowing that whatever energy she had been granted was wavering. "Let's get you back to bed. We can face this tomorrow. We still have time."

The High Lord of the Night Court went to hook an arm beneath his sisters arms, but she wrenched herself away to the side, still under the touch of Azriel, and looked upward to him. It was a silent plead, the widened watering eyes and a gentle shrug that lifted her shoulders.

Azriel moved instantly, scooping y/n into his arms and hugging her tightly into his chest, propping his chin on the crown of her head as he wordlessly carried her away.

Author's Note

I know it's been ages and I'M SO SORRY

Taglist

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[shadowdaddies]

Reunited - Part III

Fenrys x Reader

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: After years of working as a spy in Adarlan, you are finally reunited with your cousin, Aelin, as you join the war to reclaim Terrasen and bring peace to Erilea. What you don't expect is to meet your mate in the middle of a war.

A/N: for those whom I told the next parts would be less angsty... that doesn't refer to this one I'm so sorry

Warnings: canon-typical violence, KOA spoilers

Your muscles were heavy from peaceful sleep, a satisfied smile gracing your lips as eyes fluttered open to see Aedion and Gavriel standing at the opposite side of the room from where you lay.

Forcing yourself to sit up, you looked around to find yourself in a tent, piles of blankets and furs draped over where you had been sleeping on the ground.

“She’ll be furious with you,” Aedion whispered, seemingly unaware that you had awoken. “But I thank you,” he ground out, the resistance clear in his tone as he looked to your father. 

Gavriel’s tawny eyes flicked to you, lined with sorrow as memories came rushing back. Your entire body heated with pure rage and fear, nails clawing into the covers of your makeshift bed as you tossed the covers away. 

“You,” you seethed, eyes wide and teeth bared as you stood to face Gavriel. It was Aedion who stepped between you, his eyes showing a vulnerability you had yet to see him reveal in front of your father. 

“I know you are upset. But for once,” he glanced pointedly at Gavriel, “he did the right thing. No good could have come from Maeve knowing that you are Fenrys’s mate.”

Hearing his name unleashed a wave of emotion, a lump catching in your throat as the bond screamed inside of you, longing for your other half. “He’s gone,” you whispered, voice breaking as painful, hopeless thoughts eddied in a whirlpool, threatening to drown you. “I may never truly know my mate, because of you,” you growled the last word, tone piercing Gavriel enough to make him flinch.

Aedion fully stepped in front of you, his hands cupping your cheeks, covering your father from your view. “Listen to me. Maeve would have used you to torture him. She would have used you to torture Aelin. Saving him was not an option when he is so close to Maeve. Their blood oath is too strong.”

Your eyes shuttered as the hopeless realization crashed over you like an ocean wave knocking you below the surface. You stepped back, willing your thoughts to calm enough to look at Gavriel’s face, his expression full of guilt and worry. “I swear to you, we will find him. We will free him, if it is the last thing that I do.” He spoke with such conviction, you felt your heart soften, suddenly feeling guilty for how you had spoken to Gavriel.

Before you could find the words to apologize, Gavriel continued. “That is why we are headed north. Aedion leaves for Orynth shortly, but we will be joining Rowan along with Lorcan and Elide. So long as you feel that bond in your chest, we can use it to find Fenrys and Aelin.”

You nodded, shifting into the familiar mindset of a spy as you had lived for so long. “When do we leave?” 

A soft, proud smile graced Aedion’s lips, your brother pulling you in for a hug as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I leave now. I had just come to say goodbye,” he murmured. It was an all too familiar sentiment in your family - the sacrifice of leaving your loved ones in the name of duty. 

“Stay safe. I will see you soon,” you responded, not an encouragement, but an oath - one that you clung to, your chest tight as your brother disappeared out the tent. Gaze flicking to Gavriel, you raised your eyebrows in silent question.

“We leave as soon as Rowan returns from the neighboring town. He and Elide are there looking for information from the locals, and we will decide where to travel from there.” All you could manage was a nod, your emotions still roiling deep within underneath your calm facade. 

You packed in silence, Gavriel’s stare burning into your side as you avoided interaction. You had just finished packing and dismantling your tent when Rowan and Elide returned, their eyes lit with a similar wired determination as your own. 

Pine green eyes locked with yours, an unspoken understanding passing between you and Rowan - that the two of you would allow the world to burn to ash before you would allow it to take your mates.

“We’re leaving for Doranelle,” Rowan announced, brooking no room for questions before he helped load your and Elide’s bags onto horses. Giving Rowan a sharp nod, you followed suit, gathering necessities for the journey. 

The dying embers of the campfire the only trace of your existence in the forest, your group headed for Doranelle, Rowan letting out a cry as he shifted into hawk form, soaring above as you journeyed below. The day passed mostly in silence, tensions thick between you and your father, and Elide and Lorcan. 

At your request, Elide explained in brief detail why you were headed towards one of Maeve’s strongholds. She and Rowan had come across one of Maeve’s soldiers at an inn, but the shudder that passed through her when you asked for more told you all that you needed to know about how Rowan acquired that information, and you let the conversation drop.

The sun had long since set when fatigue weighed heavy on your bones, head aching from lack of food and rest. Gavriel sensed it, his too-knowing eyes scanning your sluggish movements, the limp that Elide was trying to hide. 

“We will stop here for the night,” he spoke, low voice not allowing any arguments, not that you could form any. You practically crashed into the ground where you stood at his words, Elide settling next to you as Lorcan gathered kindling. 

There remained little talk among the group. You couldn’t speak for others, but you knew that if you tried to speak, emotions would burst forth like water through a broken dam, the carefully maintained mask of strength you were wearing to be shattered into pieces. Gavriel, Lorcan, and Elide mumbled their good nights, while you and Rowan sat by the fire. 

The twisting, flickering flames held your attention in a captivating dance, the only distraction you could find from the constant agony you felt throughout your body, the unbearable weight of your mate’s pain echoing in each fiber of your soul.

You dared a glance at Rowan, his sharp eyes moving from the fire towards you. You supposed the fire meant something different to him - a reminder of his other half, the closest thing he had to her in this moment. It was a different kind of pain, but one that you could understand as the others did not.

“Do you feel her, too?” you managed, voice cracking through the strained whisper. Rowan’s brow dipped, confusion flickering across his features before understanding settled. 

“No,” he choked, and you worried that you had said the wrong thing. “No, I cannot feel her through the bond. I think whatever  But I know she is there, she is alive. That much I can feel.” A shaky breath escaped you, eyes lining with silver as you curled into your body, gaze focused back on the flames in front of you.

“Can you? Feel him?” Rowan pressed, voice soft as the night breeze. Your eyes squeezed shut, the only hope you had to keep those tears from falling, but one escaped, cold warm against your chilled skin as it traced your cheek.

“Yes,” you breathed, a sob building in your lungs as you gasped for air. “Yes, I feel everything. I feel his pain, I feel his loneliness, I-“

Words were stolen from your lungs as your chest seized, inexplicable pain, grief, bringing you to your knees. You were vaguely aware of Rowan’s presence, a warm hand on your back as sobs wracked your body. Wave after wave of grief and shame barreled into you, body shaking with the force of emotions being thrust upon you.

“Breathe,” Rowan murmured, his hand on your back a grounding comfort as the emotions faded, a distinct numbness filling your senses. Emptiness consumed your being, the only reminder that you were still alive the flames in front of you. 

Silver hair illuminated in the firelight, moving into your vision as Rowan kneeled in front of you. “Can you say... what happened?” he breathed, fear in his eyes as he dared the question.

“He’s not... he isn’t dead,” you managed, the knot in your chest loosening slightly as Rowan visibly relaxed. “Something terrible happened, Rowan. If what I felt was only a small part of what Fenrys is feeling...” Whatever hold you had on your own emotions was lost in that moment, tears falling freely as you cried.

Another hand landed on your shoulder, and you looked up through blurry eyes to see your father watching you, heartbreak written on his features. On instinct, you crashed into him, throwing your arms around Gavriel’s neck, breathing in his comforting scent. 

Conversations were happening in the background - Lorcan and Elide apparently also wakened by your cries - but you held onto your father, finding a small piece of solace in having him here.

Gavriel’s hand lifted, a canteen handed to him which he brought to your hands. “Here, drink this,” he murmured, tawny eyes observing carefully as your shaky hands gripped the vessel. Forcing small sips of water down your throat, breathing came easier, and you noticed Rowan, Lorcan, and Elide all standing nearby. 

“I’m not going to stay the night,” Rowan said, moving back towards where you sat. “If you want to rest, Gavriel will stay with you and Elide. But if you-“

“I’m going with you,” you interrupted. Rowan merely nodded, as thought your response was exactly what he expected. Lorcan was already moving, packing and loading supplies as Rowan’s power suffocated the fire.

You walked in line with Gavriel, leaves and sticks crunching under your boots as owls hooted against the still-darkened sky. “I can feel him, still,” you murmured, eyes downcast at your scuffed, muddied shoes. “I feel him, but it’s different than before. He’s... hollow. It’s like this numbness, and I can’t reach his end of the bond, so I don’t know if he can feel me.” 

Your eyes burned with tears you were too drained to shed when Gavriel grabbed your hand, turning you to stop and look up at him. “Do not give up. I know it hurts, I know what Maeve is capable of. But please, be better than me. Fight for Fenrys. He deserves that. You deserve that. And we will find him, and Aelin.”

Pushing up on your toes, you placed a kiss to your father’s cheek, your eyes never leaving his as you spoke. “You did the right thing. I have already mourned a childhood without you, but I’ve been allowed to know you now, and I am so thankful for a father as selfless as you, who was willing to sacrifice seeing his children grow to keep us safe. You didn’t give up, and I will not either.”

You both turned, heads snapping forward towards the road ahead as Gavriel cleared his throat, eyes shining with emotion as you continued the rest of your walk in silence.

By the time you arrived in Doranelle, your feet hurt like never before, entire body sore from long travels and lack of sleep. Your group hid in the trees just outside the main road through town. Elide turned to you, a fire in her eyes that lit one in your chest. 

“The males are too recognizable, so you will all stay out here and keep a low profile while I go into town. I’m going to see if anyone has information about Cairn’s location, because we know he’s with Aelin and Fenrys.”

You shook your head. “I’m coming with you. You’re not going alone into town, and it would be suspicious if you were by yourself.” You looked around, Lorcan giving you a grateful smile while Gavriel opened his mouth as if to argue. Before he could say anything, you took Elide’s hand and set off towards town.

Doranelle was bustling, people shopping and selling throughout the streets, men calling for your attention as the two of you walked at a brisk pace, eyes and ears open for any sign of danger.

Multiple groups of people shuffled in the same direction, your gaze following their movements towards a pub that appeared to be full of travelers and locals alike. “That’s where we should go,” you murmured to Elide, her dark eyes joining yours as she studied the tavern’s entrance.

Releasing your hand, Elide led the way into the building, instructing you to take a seat wherever you could find one as she took the lead. You found a small booth, thankful for the weight off your feet and even the rancid beer a barmaid slid your way.

It was pure entertainment, a respite from the hellish reality you had been living lately, as you watched Elide put on a show of the helpless maiden. Batting her long lashes, giving shy smiles, she wrung any information she could from the tavern’s patrons while you kept watch.

Everyone seemed taken by her story, the heartbroken lover of Maeve’s general, except for one female. She lounged at one of the tables, chestnut brown eyes watching Elide with a keen, quiet interest. And then Elide mentioned Cairn.

A hush fell over the room, the mood instantly sobering at the mention of the newest member of Maeve’s cadre. Expressions turned cold, even sour as people closed themselves off to Elide’s charm. They definitely knew something, and as you watched Elide excuse herself to the washroom, you caught the striking female with chestnut eyes from before stand up quickly, dark brown hair flowing around her as she turned and followed Elide down the hall.

You were quick behind her, dagger sheathed discreetly at your side. Using your blade, you wedged open the door to the washroom to find Elide wide-eyed, tension thick in the air as she and the female stared at each other. 

Your blade quickly found the female’s neck, your foot kicking the door shut behind you. “Who are you, and what do you know?” you questioned, voice lethally calm.

The female didn’t struggle, her demeanor relaxed as she spoke. “My name is Essar. I mean no harm - I simply wanted to warn your friend to stay away from Cairn. But it appears she is better protected than I believed.” 

Her voice remained calm as she dared to turn towards you, unbothered at how your blade dug further into her skin. “Why do you look for Cairn, truly?”

Your gaze hardened on Essar, assessing the trustworthiness of this new character. “That would depend. What is he to you?” you asked, releasing her so slightly from your hold.

A scoff escaped her lips, nearly a slight laugh as though your question was absurd. “He is nothing to me. And Maeve is less than nothing,” she ground out, venom lacing her tone. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips at her spite. 

“We have business to attend to regarding Cairn,” you murmured, gaze flicking towards the door to check it was closed. 

A knowing gleam shone in Essar’s eyes. “You have Gavriel’s eyes,” she whispered, clearing her throat as she studied you and Elide. “Cairn is at the camp just north of town. He was seen there this morning.”

It was an effort to not let your surprise show, but somehow you knew that you could trust Essar. Hope sprang in your chest, as though the bond was confirming Fenrys was close. “Thank you,” you murmured, to Essar, hand reaching for the doorknob as you gestured for Elide to follow.

“Give them Hell,” Essar said, chin raised proudly. You gave her a final nod of thanks before slipping out the door. Elide could barely keep up with your pace as you raced through town, back to the edge of the woods where the males waited. Now that you knew where Fenrys was, nothing could hold you back from finding him.

You were both short of breath, struggling to explain all that Essar had shared with you at the tavern. “I believe her,” you said, looking to Rowan and Gavriel for validation. But it was Lorcan whose eyes grew soft as you spoke of the female you had met, the other males looking to Lorcan for only a brief moment before Rowan cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.

“We can trust her,” he said. “I’ll take to the skies. You follow my lead - we’ll walk around town to avoid running into Maeve’s soldiers for now.”

Heart pounding in your chest, you watched as Rowan launched into the air, your group quietly following the path of the hawk as it led you around the edge of town. Sounds of soldiers running drills, sparring, blacksmiths at work all filled your ears as rows and rows of tents came into view. 

Breath caught in your lungs, the twist of hope and fear electric as it shot through your body. A warm hand wrapped around yours, and you looked down as Gavriel gave it a comforting squeeze. “I am with you,” he whispered.

Words evaded you, but you managed to nod to your father - a silent acknowledgment: "I am with you, too."

Scanning the grounds of the camp, you searched for a way in. There were too many tents, too many places Fenrys and Aelin could be. But your thoughts were interrupted by the bloody cry of a hawk, and before your mind could catch up to your body, you found yourself running, sword drawn, towards the center of camp where Rowan flew.

Soldiers charged you, your adrenaline pumping as you cut them down one by one. Red flooded your gaze as you saw a shell of a female, weighed in familiar iron shackles as she stumbled out of a tent on thin legs. 

Blood pounded in your ears, the faint sound of Lorcan yelling at your side all that you could register as Aelin ran towards you. You couldn’t stop the flow of tears as you locked eyes with your cousin through the iron mask she wore, heart somehow shattered and whole at the sight of her, alive yet broken.

“Fenrys,” she choked. “Fenrys!” Aelin’s voice cried. She whipped around like a wild animal caught in a trap, yelling at Rowan and Lorcan, pleading for them to find your mate. 

You rose to chase after him, but Rowan’s pleading look settled that rage within you - he would find your mate while you protected his. And so you watched him run through the camp with Lorcan, a beautiful storm of chaos as the warriors partnered seamlessly in battle. 

The clanking of chains pulled you from your daze, Aelin scratching at her binds. “Take it off take it off take it OFF,” she screamed, voice hoarse as she chanted violently. Rowan appeared by her side, his hands working as they tried to find an opening on the mask. Rowan.

Your eyes went wild, an unexplainable ache carving itself into your chest as you stood, spinning clumsily while you searched for any sign of Fenrys. The sight of white fur on the ground, Gavriel leaning over the wolf who lay, covered in blood and barely breathing snapped something within you. 

As your father gave you a helpless look, the world cleaved in two, as though half of your soul was ripped from your chest. Collapsing to the ground, your hand wove in Fenrys’s fur as onyx eyes gazed at you, unblinking. 

There was no room in your heart for more tears at this point. Everything had been taken from you - so you lay there, watching the last hope you had for a future, for love, as he faded away.

You didn’t head the commotion behind you as Rowan managed to break the Wyrd marks locking Aelin’s chains, how she crawled weakly to Fenrys’s side across from you. The words, “live, Fenrys. Live,” echoed through your head, Aelin’s voice like a helpless prayer.

And then he blinked. Gold flecks shone in his eyes, chest rising slowly as your mate released a soft whine. Your heart burst with joy, love pouring from your end of the bond as you were finally able to reach Fenrys.

Your hand reached out to him just as he shifted into his human form, long blonde curls fallen across his beautiful face as he stared at you. “Is this real?” he rasped, and you nodded, a broken laugh escaping as you sat up, pulling Fenrys’s head into your lap as his hands found yours, holding onto them like a lifeline.

“He’s gone,” Fenrys whispered, his gaze distant. You felt it then - the hollow feeling, the numbness you had felt through the bond. “Connall,” he murmured, eyes finding yours as a tear rolled down his cheek, and you understood. Fenrys had lost a part of himself - Maeve had taken so much from your mate.

“I will kill her,” you vowed. 

Fenrys’s hand lifted to brush your cheek. “You were my hope. The only strength I found to keep going.” 

Taking his hand from your cheek, you pressed a kiss to his palm. Flames danced in your eyes. “For what she did to you, to Connall, to Aelin. She will burn.”

Author’s Note: I took a break from this series and don’t know if a part 4 will happen. Sorry to disappoint anyone, but there are no immediate plans for this series to continue.

tag list: @hellodarling1357 @sassyslytherinshai

[moonlightazriel]

Chapter 2: New world same problems /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Y/N meets their leader and get some answers.

Word Count: 3,2K

Warnings: Just some angst and swearing.

Notes: I hate how tumblr posts drafts when you edit them, so we had another leak with this one. Great just great. Also, if you're not getting notified even if you're in the taglist, please let me know!!

Main Masterlist

Worlds Apart Masterlist

Green liquid dripped from the beast's exposed teeth, as well as the thorns adorned the tail he had placed in front of her as a barrier. They had no way of getting closer to her, the option was either get eaten or get poisoned, if the flowers dying where the liquid touched was any indication of it. 

Cassian knew that too, and he motioned for Azriel to leave his shadows by his side so he wouldn’t scare the female. If he dared turn away from her, he would see that his shadows were already pooled by his feet, calmly resting like they did when no threat lingered around. 

“You’re in Prythian.” Cassian started, hands projecting away from his body in an attempt to appear friendly, voice loud and calm, she had to trust them. His eyes were slightly wide with panic, the monster she called a pet making his bone chill.

“We’re not in Erilea?” The female spoke in clear shock, her eyes squinted as she analysed her surroundings. The city in the back, a bit far away from where she stood now. They wouldn’t be able to call for help quick enough if she and Meraxes decided to attack. The wyvern’s head went forward in motion with her clutching her sword harder and sliding a foot forward, to give her stability to jump on them.

Azriel could almost hear the engines turning around in her head. She had maybe thought this was Wendlyn or some of the other fae territories she hadn't visited yet. And then his ears caught the lack of whispers, not a single word left his shadows, and he dared looking down. They rested peacefully, some strands looking like they were running after others, in a playful game of hide and seek. 

He didn’t know what this could possibly mean. He tried to command them to go after her, some of them darted towards the female, spinning around her calves. She looked down, confusing lacing both of their features. She bared her teeth, sword going down with a low whistle, cutting the shadows connecting them both.

“Keep them away from me.” She barked, and the dragon growled in unison. Now Cassian was 100 percent sure that the monster would do anything to protect its rider, which really complicated things a bit more. 

“We don’t know what this place is, but you’re in the Night Court, in Prythian.” Cassian elaborated, bringing back the attention to him, her eyes scanned his face for any signs that could indicate that he was lying but found none. Rhysand scrapped their mental shields, telling them that Morrigan was going there. 

Y/N watched as a female appeared from the shadows, right in between the two males, eyes of a dark brown and a long blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. Mor watched the scene, looking at the female and her companion, eyes sparkling with admiration at the huge thing. 

“Who are you?” She inquired, blue eyes glued to Morrigan’s. Her body was so tense, feeling so rigid, like a band ready to snap. Her eyes glued to the trio in front of her, she wanted to look up, to where that gap had been, spitting her into this unknown land. She clutched her free hand in a fist as a thought took over her head. 

How the hell would she go back home? 

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, forcing the wild waves of emotions that threatened to flood her chest and drown her to calm the fuck down. Never show others that you’re weak, never let them see your emotions, you were born for war, born to be a weapon, act like one. That disgusting voice of the Martron filled her mind and she took a deep breath.

“I’m Morrigan, and I'm here to help.” The two flanked the female and she thought that maybe she was their queen. Steadying her breath, focusing on keeping her wobbly knees from giving out, she spoke. 

“Finally.” She groaned, hand still gripping the sword, but she clicked her jaw, her iron teeth going back inside her gum. “I’m assuming you’re their queen, exactly who I would like to speak to.” She started, but the male covered in red stones laughed, his laughter sounding like thunder. She looked at him with her eyebrows rising to her hairline. 

“Please, never say something like that again or else she will become an even bigger asshole.” Even the quiet male with the shadows smiled at that, a beautiful smile, that once again felt so familiar that her heart ached. Morrigan rolled her eyes.

“They wish I was their queen, but do you wish to speak with our leader?” Y/N nodded. “We can take you to him.” She offered. 

“How do i know that the second i let my guard down your two bats won’t kill me and my wyvern?” Azriel watched the beast, finally putting a name to it. His gaze turned back to her, she had a very fair point.

“Because my power is the truth.” The female replied and before she could ask what the fuck that even meant, she continued. “I cannot lie, if I tried I would be in immense pain right now, and I know when others are lying.” She concluded. 

Just like a human King once could, she had heard about the power of the truth, Dorian possessed it even if he thought it was related to his sword. Asterin told her about it, she could almost hear her voice as they reunited around a fire, when she deserted from the Ferian Gap and ran away with the Thirteen to find the Crochans. 

And if she closed her eyes, she could see Asterin smiling at her, telling her to open her heart more, and that she should follow the female. She took another deep breath to steady her heart, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, with a shuddering voice, she spoke.

“Lead the way.”

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

Meraxes’ wings carried her over the city, towards a mountain. She looked down, buildings adorned the streets, people stopped in their tracks, watching with curiosity the winged shadow that crossed just above their heads. A river glistened in the sun, following in the middle of the city until it disappeared between the mountains. Shops everywhere, people buying things, kids laughing and running. She thought of her home, and how hard they were working so they could have something like this to call their own. 

She dreamed of leaving the palace, having a small cabin for her, a garden with a large tree so she could rest by the end of the day, sitting in its shadows and reading her books. A tiny library to store them and a kitchen to perfect her baking skills, she wanted to learn about so much, and have a place to belong. 

She also wanted to learn about gardening, harvesting her own vegetables and fruits to bake fresh goodies, but mostly because she wanted a big flower field, with so many flowers that Meraxes would never get tired of getting to know every single one.

She shook her head, letting those thoughts be carried away with the winds that whipped her hair against her cold face. And as she looked forward again she spotted a residence carved into the mountain, the two winged males flew in front of her, guiding the way. She knew this was probably not the smartest idea, but if she wanted answers, who’s better than the owner of the place?

The males landed on a balcony, and Meraxes did the same, its claws digging into the stone of the mountain, waiting for her to get off the saddle and slide down his leg. Its huge head turned towards something in the distance and she groaned in annoyance.

The males watched her, and they had to hold back a smile as she adjusted her clothes, getting ready to walk forward, just to be brutally shoved by the wyvern’s nose, she almost fell. She turned to him with a death glare, in a staring match like they were having a conversation. 

“Fine!” She gave in. “If they kill me, at least have the decency to take some of your precious flowers to my fucking grave.” The wyvern roared and the whole mountain shook when it flew away. 

“Where is he going?” Azriel asked, eyeing the beautiful creature, its powerful muscles contracting as the wings moved in the sky. Cassian on the other hand was looking at it with worry. Would they really let that dangerous animal fly around as it pleased? 

“There’s no need to worry.” She stopped in front of him. “Meraxes is rather fond of flowers, the only thing he’ll destroy are the poor fields.” She pointed to where he flew in the distance, completely ignoring the city and aiming for the open fields away from the houses. The male with the red stones seemed to relax a bit hearing it. 

“Welcome to the House of Wind then.” Cassian gestured to the open door and she entered, the two following her close. She looked around, dark stone walls, fancy furniture adorning the space that looked like a living room. Hallways leading to hidden rooms and a big fireplace was lit. She noticed that in that room the only door was blocked by the two males, but there were plenty of windows she could jump out if things went south. 

Power lingered around the room, darkness sweeping in the corners of her mind. From the corner of a room a male appeared, he had violet eyes and dark hair, pointy ears peeking from his hair and a very tired expression. He looked just like her. 

Y/N hissed, her claws and teeth ready to attack, she backed away, her back hitting the hard chest of the Shadowsinger. The feeling of her tensed back pressed against his front, and the fact that she didn’t even realise what she had bumped into sent a wave of electricity zipping through his body. Her smell hit his nose, he had never smelled something like her before, but it somehow felt so familiar that he almost lost himself in it. She smelled like a rainy day with a tint of red wine, completely addicting. 

She felt the wall behind her back, not daring to take her eyes away from him, feeling her chest move with rapid breaths, she was trapped there with that demon. By the amount of power she could feel, and the slight scrape in her mental shields, she knew what he was before he even opened his mouth.

“Let me out, Valg scum.” She spat, anger lacing her tone. She didn’t have fire magic, but removing his head would be efficient too, even if she had to use her teeth to rip through the skin. The male looked at her confused. 

“This is our High Lord, Rhysand.” Azriel spoke from behind her, she turned her head to see him standing there, golden eyes fixed on hers, his figure towering hers, and as much as the idea of killing him made her feel weird and made her chest heavy, she would have to start with him if she wanted to kill the valg standing in front of her. 

“I don’t care about his name, I know what you are.” Not again, the horrors the Valg had done to her people, she had seen the witches being used to breed their babies. She stepped forward, to create some room between her and the male behind her. But now she was trapped with the three circling her, she cursed under her breath. 

“I won’t harm you.” Rhysand approached, she was clearly distressed, he could smell her nervousness, the anger boiling in her veins. Her eyebrows were furrowed, a defensive stance. She reached for her sword, prompting Azriel to reach for his dagger and Cassian for his sword too. “I don’t know what a Valg is, but I can assure you, I'm half fae and half illyrian.”

“Funny, Maeve also claimed she was a fae, but she was a fucking Valg Queen. Do not get closer to me if you don’t want to get impaled by my sword.” Nothing she said made sense.

“I’m not Valg or anything.” He started, hands lowering in the air to tell the illyrians to lower their weapons, this would only make her more nervous. 

“Prove it.” She challenged him.

“How?” He inquired, rubbing his temple in a tired motion, he had dealt with so much today, all he wanted to do was to be by his mate and son’s side. 

“Just a small cut, Valgs bleed black, like the putrid beings they are.” The two males behind her shared a look, he wouldn’t do it, would him? 

“Then do it, to prove that I'm speaking the truth.” He extended his arm to her, Y/N grabbed his wrist harshly with one hand, with the other, she dragged her iron claws along his skin, he winced, but red blood started to leak from the cut. “See? Not black.”

She immediately relaxed, letting him go. It didn’t make any sense, he looked so much like her, their powers almost the same. Her shoulders slumped and she let out a shaken breath, those emotions threatening to spill once more. She sheathed her sword back into place and closed her hands in fists to ground her, iron claws digging through the flesh, the pain helped her to stay in reality and keep her emotions controlled. 

Azriel smelled the faint metallic scent of blood, his eyes immediately drawn to her clenched fists, a tiny trail of blue blood slided down her hands and he had to hold himself from grabbing her hands and make her stop, the feeling in his chest of seeing her in such distressed state was strange, he couldn’t tell what he was feeling and this made him confused, he hated not knowing what to feel or say. 

“Please, have a seat, we have a lot to talk about.” Rhys gestured towards the comfortable couch in front of her and she sat, before her knees failed and she fell to the ground.

“I suppose we do.” It was only then that he noticed that despite speaking their language, she had a thick accent to it, one he had never heard before but  he liked it very much, and the Shadowsinger found himself wanting to hear more of it. 

“Let’s begin with simple questions. I’m Rhysand, these are Cassian..” He gestured to the male with red stones and longer hair, he nodded his head towards her. “And this is Azriel.” Azriel, she repeated inaudibly, wanting to test the words in her mouth, the name lighting something within her. 

“I’m Y/N. Y/N Blackbeak.” She introduced herself. “And that was Meraxes, my wyvern.” If she wanted them to help her, she would have to give them information, those kinds of things only worked with trust as Sorrel once told her. The male nodded.

“Where are you from?” She clearly wasn’t from Prythian or any land they knew, and Rhysand had a vague memory crossing his mind, the shooting star, the different smell and his power hitting it, slowing it down. 

“The Witch Kingdom in Erilea. I’m an Ironteeth witch.” It all made sense then, the claws and the teeth she had. Interesting. 

“We have never heard of such a place, how did you get here?” Rhysand asked, saying he was confused was a nice way to put it, he was completely lost. 

“I was having a beer with Fenrys..” She stopped, in a swift motion she was standing, like she could go back to him, she knew he would be looking for her soon, he had lost so much, she didn’t want to add more to his suffering. “Oh Mother, poor Fenrys.” She spoke to herself, slumping back in her seat.

 Azriel watched the scene, the male’s name making him puff his chest and take a deep breath. Cassian looked over at his brother and if he didn’t know any better, he could swear that Azriel was jealous. 

“They said I was being called to deal with the gap, so I flew there with my alliance. I got there and this slit was there, it felt like it was calling me, sunlight peeked through it. I got too close and when I opened my eyes again I was in that field and the gap was gone.” Rhysand didn’t know what this meant, a gap that made you travel to another world?

“So you didn’t come here because you wanted to?” She scoffed.

“Well, i was dealing with a lot of shit, but i don’t think  jumping to another fucking world would solve any of them, so no, i didn’t came here because i wanted.” Sarcasm laced her tone and she crossed her arms over her full chest. “I just want to go home, they need me there.” She said, and she wasn’t sure if it was to convince them or herself, she shoved the thought in the darkest corner of her mind, not wanting to think about it right now. 

“I’m sorry this happened to you, we have no idea how to send you back, but you can stay here while we figure it out.” Rhys offered and she nodded, she didn’t have anywhere else to go anyway. 

“Thank you for your kindness.” She felt her head throb and the scar itchy, she looked around and caught Azriel staring at her, his eyes glued to the scar on her face, she cringed in her seat, trying to resist the urge to hide whenever someone stared for too long. 

“You’re welcome.” He turned to the males. “Az, can you show her a room?” His tired eyes made Azriel accept. He started to walk and he heard her getting up to follow him when Cassian cleared his throat.

“HEY.” They all turned back to him. “Aren’t we discussing the most important matter?” Azriel watched as she tilted her head to the side, in a really cute way.

“What matters, Cassian?” Rhys sounded tired, he just wanted to go home.

“What does that thing eat?” Y/N looked at him, what if they didn’t have sheep for him? His favourite food. 

“Firstly, he’s not a thing, do not talk about Meraxes that way.” She warned, those strangers wouldn’t treat her baby that way. “Secondly, he loves sheep, as long as you guys have it, he will be fine.” Cassian cracked a smile.

“I wasn’t expecting sheep to be his favourite meal, I was guessing on innocent screaming people.” She rolled her eyes trying hard not to smile. 

“Nah, they make him throw up.” And with that, leaving an astonished Cassian behind, she followed the Shadowsinger. 

They walked in silence, she felt her chest heavy and all the events of the day weighing on her, she had her control slipping through her fingers, and when Azriel opened a door to a bedroom, she ran inside, knuckles turning white as she held the wooden door.

“If you need anything, my room is on the other side of the hallway, " he pointed to the door in front of her.

“Thank you, Azriel.” His name on her tongue sounded divine. She closed the door with a loud thud, leaving him standing on the other side, his shadows wanting to reach out for her from under the door, but he held them close to him.

She felt the room spinning, her breath getting stuck in her dry throat, and when everything finally sunk in, the dam broke.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

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[acourtofantumbra]

🚨 Ok, I've got something to SAY about lightsingers!!! 🚨

I know the "are lightsingers evil?"... or even just an easter egg... debate has sent this fandom into a tizzy a few times over. We're not on the ship controversy (pun intended), we're on the SS Earnest & Nerdy Close Reader.

My fave part of my TOG/Complete SJMU reread has been zeroing in on two groups of women/females that have long since itched my brain - priestess and witches... I also yearn for a Manorian book after all these years and I have been waiting for their... "boat hangouts" since I started my TOG reread. IYKYK.

Imagine my surprise when this description of a half dead Manon - a witch, yes, but a half Blackbeak, half Cochran heir, and witch queen - paralleled the one fleeting description we get of Lightsingers from Cassian while he, Nesta, and Azriel hunt for the mask (gotta love Manon's beautiful face casually being referred to as a mask) in the Middle in ACOSF.

Both of these scenes warrant a longer close read with more screengrabs (but I'm tired and have a gnarly cold a I can't kick) because both essentially question what it means to be evil... this is an oversimplification, but whether evil is in your nature or if intent is the deciding factor. But here's the lowdown:

In the ACOSF scene, Cassian literally just described witches, "not the human kind," who live in the bog/Middle before describing Lightsingers. Wow, what a fun coincidence. And when Nesta asks why the Prythian powers that be let the Middle and its creatures live, Cassian basically says that it's not right, or their call, to punish something for doing what it was born to do... unlike the inhabitants of the Prison who earned their spot there and needed to be removed from society and have their considerable powers leashed.

In the EoS scene, Dorian asks Manon (after she makes it clear he looks tasty af) if witches are partially human, to which she replies, "Not in the ways that count." Ok, ominous. Then Dorian remembers that witches have human, Fae, and Valg parts, but that "Valg blood had shaped the witches." But when Dorian asks Manon if she feels more human or Valg, Manon immediately responds saying that both the Valg, and Erawan, are her enemies. Nuance!

Things I think are interesting? Many have brilliantly speculated about Nesta's potential witchiness and her being smack dab in the middle of this big parallel is both very fun and, I suppose, unsurprising. The Dread Trove Mask and the allusion to Manon's beauty being a mask has me 👀 Also for all this talk of "oh no a Lightsinger will lure you and control you against your will..." might some of that lore been wrapped up in what it is the mask can essentially do? Granted it can only raise/control the dead, but that would qualify as "horror" to me. I think Prythian, Midgard, and Erilea are victims of the worst game of telephone ever.

Big picture? Every time a character says "oh yeah, we were taught x was evil," pretty consistently we're learning that was some big ol' Asteri (or whatever they're calling themselves on that planet) propaganda. And Cassian being taught that Lightsingers are evil when, by this reading, they could be very important witches? Well, that would make a lot of sense for someone raised by Illyrians who infamously hate witches (and women). Cassian is, of course, our sweet evolved himbo, but he might not know some myths he's always believed were fake news.

Anyway, this deserves a nice, long investigation, but my brain is already succumbing to NyQuil and my IQ is dropping by the second.

I leave you with this moving quote from Manon #growth