#healer feyre

[rainstormsdarling]

In the Shadow-Spell

A hoarse cry tore through the shadow-spell, and Feyre thought that she had never heard agony like that, not in all these past weeks of healing in the Velaris infirmary. She stilled at the sound, her senses on alert.

It was Rhysand.

*one shot, Rhys has a nightmare acomaf*

....

Feyre hadn’t been asleep for more than an hour when she awoke with her every nerve alight. Lightning coursed through her veins, her eyes flying open. When she did, what she saw was utterly different from the velvety night that had become so familiar to her. In the darkness, obsidian shadows crept along the ceiling and puddled in the corners of her room. Writhing, searching, seeking.

The shadows were in a frenzy that matched the manic pace of her heart, sweeping across her room, clamoring to consume her. And they felt like pure, icy, undiluted terror.

A hoarse cry tore through the shadow-spell, and Feyre thought that she had never heard agony like that, not in all these past weeks of healing in the Velaris infirmary. She stilled at the sound, her senses on alert.

It was Rhysand.

She lept from the bed and down the hall. The door to Rhys’ room at the end of the hallway was blasted open, pitch-black ink seeping out of it rapidly, engulfing the ornate carpet, the cerulean-blue walls, wrangling with the diminishing faelights.

And the scene that greeted her as she stumbled into his room was nothing short of petrifying.

Shredding, rippling darkness consumed the room, cruel and thieving as it devoured every last bit of warmth and hope.

Another anguished cry tore from his throat and Feyre didn’t hesitate to fall forward into the room, as if tugged by an invisible force, something that came from between her ribs, eyes straining, desperately seeking the outline of the bed, of him.

At last her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness and she found him, the bed ice-cold to the touch, silk sheets shredded by the black wreaths of darkness rippling from his hands. His head was thrown back against the pillows, chest heaving, blue-black hair falling on the pillows like ink spilled across a page.

Her eyes roamed over his exposed chest, cataloguing the shallow breaths, the golden skin slicked with sweat. His lips moved with harsh murmured words, ones she could not comprehend, and Feyre worried what sort of horrors were so awful that mangled his beautiful darkness in such a way.

“Rhysand, wake up." Her voice quivered with concern. With trembling hands, she reached out a gentle hand to his shoulder, finding the muscles there taut.

“Rhys” she said softly, then again, this time louder and with more urgency. “Rhys, wake up, please.”

He groaned again, his features twisted, and the sweat that beaded across his brow bled down his temple.

“Rhysand!” Feyre pleaded, panicking now, climbing onto the bed, swinging a leg over his body so that he was pressed between her thighs. Shaking his shoulders, willing him with every ounce of her being to wake.

His thrashing grew more frenzied, his breath coming in ragged gasps. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to reach him, couldn't seem to pull him back from the icy depths of his nightmare.

"Rhys, please," her voice broke. "Come back to me."

She was desperate now, desperate and scared, desperate and furious, furious and confused as to why she couldn’t bear to see him like this.

His violet eyes snapped open, and their gazes were locked in rage, in fury, in raw terrible power -

Suddenly she was thrown onto her back, pinned beneath him, a strong hand crushing hers above her, another at her neck, his night-frost tipped canines bared to the hollow below her ear.

“It’s me,” she gasped. “Feyre.” Her breaths heaving, her wide eyes locked beneath his wild ones.

She kept her voice soft, but she felt caught under his predatory stare.

"Feyre,” she repeated, as she beheld the anguish reflected in his eyes—the same anguish that had him panting just as hard as she was beneath him.

“It was a dream,” she panted. “Just a dream… A dream…” she repeated—a mantra, beckoning him home.

Something broke -

He reared back.

"Feyre..." Rhysand's voice hoarse and broken, canines receding beyond his lips, resting his forehead against hers. His hands shook as he held her.

“I'm here," she murmured, and her voice trembled with relief. "I'm right here."

“You’re safe, it’s just me, just you and me, at home, we are safe,” she said. He drew a ragged gasp that sucked at the air against her face, and she felt him shuddering.

Seeing him like this, Feyre instinctively fell back on her training - a grounding exercise she’d refined through countless encounters with those enduring the trauma of wars within their minds and a practice she honed for herself.

"Rhys," she began cautiously, her voice a gentle murmur in the cool darkness of his room, "I'm here with you. Let's ground ourselves, okay?"

He exhaled harshly, his hand seeking hers in the darkness, grasping onto her so tightly she could feel the storm raging in his blood.

“You can’t ever comprehend the terror of watching your body star in something your mind didn't agree to Feyre”, he laughed humourlessly. “You can’t fix me. Don’t try.”

Feyre looked away and tried to swallow, but her saliva was acidic. Her hands trembled and his features swam before her eyes. Salty tears that gathered were blinked away when she had no answers to that—to the desperate tenor in his rich, cultured voice. So she instead examined the whorls of ink on his chest and arms, the glow of his tan skin, so golden now that he was no longer caged underneath that mountain.

She took a shallow breath. Hesitating.

"Tell me, Rhys," she continued, "What is something you can see right now?"

His fingers slid along the curve of her thumb, but he refused to open his eyes. She had never seen him so disheveled, so disconcerted.

“Look at me,” she said, her voice soft but stern, one she learned as a healer. “Rhys, tell me something - anything - tell me something you can see.”

He took another breath against her mouth and his eyes fluttered open. His starkissed eyes were so dark, and she watched as they roamed over her face, over her tousled hair spread across his pillow, before settling on her own blue-grey ones, softly glowing like the moonlight filtering through the window. "The moon," he rasped. "Its silver light eddied in your eyes."

She nodded, a hopeful smile lifting the corners of her lips. "Yes, the moon," she agreed. "The new moon, hidden and safe, but there to guide us gently through the darkest of nights."

"And what's something you can smell?" Feyre asked quietly, interlacing his fingers with hers.

Rhysand closed his eyes, his senses attuned to everything around him, and suddenly she wanted to stare into his eyes again, the vulnerability she glimpsed there. "The scent of jasmine," he murmured. "It's faint, but it's there, lingering in the air."

Feyre breathed in deeply, allowing the scent to fill her lungs, to anchor her in the present moment with him. "Jasmine," she repeated softly. "Its fragrance soothing and familiar, the night-blooming flowers a reminder of tranquility in the dying of the light."

"Now, tell me" she continued, her voice breathy, "what's something you can feel right now?"

Rhysand's fingers tightened around hers, grounding himself in the heat of her touch. "Your hand in mine," he whispered, his voice tinged with something other than ice. She felt him swallow. She felt him press himself closer to her. "Steady and reassuring, reminding me that I'm not alone."

Feyre squeezed his hand gently, a silent promise. "Yes, my hand," she whispered back. "Always here to hold you, to remind you of the warmth that surrounds us."

"And lastly," she said softly, her voice barely a breath above the stillness of the night. "What's something you can taste?"

Rhysand's lips curved into an immodest half-smile, the first hint of starlight breaking through the darkness. "The taste of the night air," he replied, his voice growing stronger with each passing moment. "It’s chilled flavour. Space to breathe, to savour."

Feyre smiled back, "Yes, the night air," she echoed. And Rhysand might have dipped his gaze to her lips, like he wanted to taste those too. But he didn’t move, and they laid still for ages, content to let the silence stretch between them.

There was no restraint in his stare, and she felt laid bare, her body still pressed against the mattress beneath his. She swallowed under his gaze, to which his eyes dropped to her neck where she could feel heat rising. Her hands were still entwined with his, and she made to remove them, to remove herself before he would ask her to leave -

“Look at you” his voice rough, still riddled and raw from the power that was ripped from him.

Feyre took a shaky breath and her breasts pushed against him.

She disentangled her hands and pushed against his chest, gingerly sitting up, realising they now knelt before each other, him unclothed, her not much better. She shook her head, trying to clear it.

Her night dress was bunched around her hips. Her legs against his. And he was so still, so frozen. But her lungs felt clear, as though it was a relief to be here, touching him. She glanced to the window, and her stomach dropped. An hour or two at least had passed. It would be dawn in a few hours.

“Stay”

She stilled, and held a breath.

“Stay,” his chest jerked as he spoke, and he stared down at her, expression unreadable. “Please.”

Her heart stalled, and she desperately wanted to ask why. Why? What was she to him? She had so many questions. She was conflicted. She bit her lower lip. But she could see the tension still lurking under the surface, in the clench of his jaw, the press of his lips.

Her throat tightened so much it was hard to swallow. She slowly lowered herself back to the mattress as she held his gaze. “Okay,” she said.

“Okay,” he repeated. But he still didn’t move.

“Come here” she breathed, outstretching her arms and catching his face in her hands. Then he was in motion, his hand to capture the back of her head.

His hands were soft, brushing against the nape of her neck before he turned her, pulling her against himself. His lips were suddenly behind her ear and his mouth was burning.

“Thank you, Feyre.”

He pulled her impossibly close, holding her tightly, and the rhythmic beat of his heart lulled her into the space between dreams.

She drifted off as he ducked his head close to hers, his lips brushing against her hair as he murmured, “You are my salvation, Feyre,”

She didn’t deny it.

Notes: This is foremost a one-shot but was originally planned as an additional chapter to the story I'm currently working on - A Court Across Seas and Stars, but doesn't quite work (as yet, if you think I should add it later please let me know!). I love healer Feyre and wish there were more fics that featured her healing him? If you have any recs please let me know :) Anyway, thank you for reading, any and all feedback is most welcome!! xx

[fantasymindpalace]

and you know what?? fuck madja the healer too because why would she only tell rhysand about the pregnancy risks and not feyre? that man literally had the entire night court down to the fucking healer conspiring against their own high lady. the level of treachery the inner circle engaged in to withhold the truth from her is why i don’t care about nestas “delivery” when she told feyre. nesta using a mean tone and raising her voice is still not as disrespectful as hiding the truth. the ic didn’t like nesta’s tone because they didn’t appreciate their lies being revealed.

[thatmadshifter11]

The Shadowsinger and The Mistress of Love and Lust Pt.2

As the first rays of dawn break over the horizon, I finally allow myself to rest, leaning against him, our bodies entwined. His once bloody and torn wings are now starting to heal, the skin slowly knitting itself back together. There's still a long way to go, but we've made it through the night, and that's a victory in itself. I let myself relax against the man who I had loved for centuries the one who is now my mate, we haven't even gotten to talk about it the way we are bound to each other. To be completely honest I don’t know if I should even be sleeping beside him since he has said nothing to me other then “Mate” that doesn't mean he accepts it but it also doesn't mean he doesn’t.

I close my eyes, allowing the exhaustion to take over. But even as I drift off, I know that when I wake, I'll be ready to face another day, to continue the fight, to heal and protect my mate. I also know that he will do the same for me even if he doesn’t accept the Bond because that is just the type of man he is one with a heart. You may not be able to tell under all the brooding and shadowy exterior but he is one of the kindest most genuine men I have ever met.

His soft whisper rouses me from my sleep, "Thank you, Cici," and I squeeze his hand in response, and blush lightly noticing our proximity and the way we are both covered in his blood. “uh how about a bath?” I ask easing up from the bed moaning my exhaustion taking over me. Before my pain fully takes over I could’ve swore he said something about how he’d only take one if I joined him. I feel my old scars they are sore and my eyes are slowly lose their sight. I think quickly and using the last of my strength I winnow to Cassian and Nesta’s tent. “Cass? Nes?”

I stumble in blindly bumping into a wall- wait not a wall my best friend, Cass! “Cia are you alright?” he asks shaking me lightly and looking me over. “Where's Az is he ok” he asks frantic. “H-he's fine but I need help,” I say shakily. “My powers are weak and without anything to refuel them before I'm done with Az….” My eyes are welling up with my bloody gold tears and I let them fall.

Cass scoops me into a warm, brotherly hug. I hear Nesta approach, “What do you need to refuel?” she asks me and I can’t help but assume she is crossing her arms like I have watched her do for years when she gets curious. I smile, my senses and skills really show when I'm blind it almost makes me want to stay this way, but I will miss colors and glitter being able to see my family's smiling faces.

“Blood,” my voice shaky as I say it. Nesta huffs and hear footsteps shuffling around next thing I know I loose the presence of my best friend and I'm left myself. I can’t help but let my tears fall. I hear them again and Nesta approaches me grabbing my hands. “Eris said he’ll help he said he's done it before,” she says in a hushed tone.

Which brings me back to the time I spent with Eris camped in a cave hiding from threats, as he survived on animals we killed and my powers keeping him afloat as I kept myself replenished with his strong High Fae blood. He was the first High Fae I had ever drunken from. He allowed me to keep drinking from him as long as he stayed strong and healthy we survived 4 months out in the wilderness that way.

“Where is he?! I need it now,” I say agitated wanting to get back to my mate. “He is going to the healing tent to gather supplies,” “Alright thank you so much Nes,” I said leaning up to give her a kiss on the check which ends up rather sloppily on her ear. She laughs, a sound I haven’t heard from her in awhile. Eris helps me and gives me a few bags of fresh blood so I don't have to wonder around like that again. I rush back to Az fully recharged and ready to help him as much as I can.

[westrangecollectionkoalaposts]

So, all that pregnancy risk Feyre had, was bc the healer was an incompetent?

[starryhiraeth]

Heal me pt2

Warning?: lol Just Az about to pop a blood vessel mostly. Also baby nyx having a breakdown

Pt1

In the morning you woke up in a field.

A FIELD.

Mascara running down your face and lipstick smudged, surrounded by your friends who were also asleep on the hard ground.

“Crap”

Meanwhile back in Velaris

“She just disappeared?!” Azriel yelled

Madja was trying to keep it together but in reality she was terrified for you,her Daughter,adopted or not

Nyx was crying

“She’s gooooooooone,who I I marry nooooooooow?!” He wailed

Elain stood up and picked nyx up from the floor

“I’ll just take him outside” she said

“You lost my Y/NNNNNNNN” his tiny voice cried out as his voice disappeared down the hall as elain tried to shush him

“What If something happens to her” Madja speaks up,worried and angry

“Nothing will,we will find her,this i swear” Rhys declares

“Rhys stop trying to be a superhero and let’s go find her” Nesta sassed,walking out the door to find you

So they all went out searching for you… for 5 hours

And Azriel was going insane.

His head was running a million miles a second after 4 hours they all met up again to discuss a plan

“It’s unlikely she just got lost,she’s been missing since last night and the first 24 hours are the most important…”

Blah blah blah

It was all drowned out,Azriel needed to find you and sitting in this Damn chair talking about a plan,isn’t going to find you

Enough was enough,

He could hardly breathe

His hand hit the table in rage as he stood up,storming out of the room

“Fuck this” he yelled,his Mate needed him

“Azriel sit down-” Feyre tried calming him down

“NO! This isn’t helping find her!” He yelled

“Look,I know your worried but-” Rhys started

“You don’t know anything Rhys” he muttered,about the walk out of the room

“I know she’s your mate!” Rhys called out and Feyre cringed

“What?”

“You’ve been acting out-”

“You looked inside my head Rhys?!” Az yelled

“Your not exactly good at hiding your thoughts when it comes to her” Rhys stated

Azriel stormed out.

Sure he could argue with Rhys and Feyre about invading his privacy and announcing it to everyone else but that wouldn’t help save you

And that was his main priority. From now till forever.

The field

You sat there in the sunny field.

Bored.out of.your damn.MIND.

You were the first one to wake up,you looked over to your friends

Their not dead are they

You thought and you poked them,

They all started to slowly wake up all in as bad a state,or worse than you

And yet your best friend Keira looked at you up and down

“You look like a cat coughed your ass up”

She stated

“Says you”

You friend back

“Are we in a field?!” Your other friends called out

“Yep…”

A Damn field…

A bit short but it’s like 1:23AM where I am so I’ll post more soon

-Issy ❤️

[bookwormjust]

Allergy reaction with the IC

The House of Wind was alive with the warm, familiar sounds of the inner circle—laughter, conversation, the clinking of silverware. You sat next to Azriel, his presence beside you a comforting anchor, though his shadows whispered around the room, as they often did, staying alert for any threats. 

Dinner was a casual affair tonight, with everyone relaxed after a long day. Rhys was at the head of the table, Amren and Mor teasing each other across from you, Cassian boasting about some sparring victory over Feyre, who only rolled her eyes and smirked. Everything felt light, like nothing in the world could go wrong.

You took a bite of the food in front of you, the rich flavor of spices and herbs filling your mouth. But then, as you swallowed, a faint, tingling sensation started in your throat. You blinked, trying to brush it off as nothing at first, but then the tingling turned into something more—a burning.

It hit you like a punch to the chest. Your breath quickened, your throat tightening as panic began to rise in your chest. Bell pepper. You knew that taste. And you were allergic.

Azriel, ever in tune with you, noticed immediately. His hand that had been resting casually on your leg beneath the table stiffened, his shadows stilling as he glanced over at you. “Are you alright?” His voice was soft, but there was an edge of concern to it. 

You tried to respond, but your throat constricted further, making it difficult to breathe, let alone speak. Your chest began to tighten, and you could feel your skin flushing, a telltale sign of the allergic reaction you’d experienced before.

“Y/N?” His voice was sharper now, his shadows curling protectively around you, tightening like a warning. 

You gasped, struggling to catch your breath as your vision began to blur. The room fell silent in an instant—everyone’s attention snapped toward you.

“What’s happening?” Feyre asked, her voice alarmed, and Rhys was already halfway out of his chair, his face a mask of concern.

Azriel was out of his seat in an instant, his wings flaring as he scooped you into his arms. His shadows swirled around the room, the panic in his eyes barely contained as he looked at you. “Allergic reaction,” he growled, his voice low and urgent. “Bell pepper.”

“Shit,” Cassian cursed, pushing his chair back roughly as Mor and Amren both stood, ready to help if needed. 

“We need the healer,” Feyre said quickly, but Rhys was already moving, likely winnowing to get someone.

Azriel didn’t wait. He was already carrying you toward the door, his arms strong and steady, though you could feel the tension in his body. His heart was pounding, and you could feel his fear radiating through the bond. 

He kept whispering your name, over and over, as if saying it enough times would keep you with him. You could feel his panic now, his thoughts racing, though his face remained calm. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this.

By the time he reached one of the sitting rooms where the healer would meet you, your vision was swimming, your throat closing tighter. Azriel held you close, his lips brushing your temple as he whispered, “Stay with me, Y/N. Please, stay with me.”

His voice cracked, just once, and it broke something inside of you. You hated seeing him like this—Azriel, who was always so calm, so composed, now barely holding it together as his shadows lashed wildly around him.

“I’m here,” you rasped, managing to get the words out despite the pain, though they came out weaker than you intended.

“I’ve got you, love,” he murmured, his voice breaking again, though he tried to hide it. “I’ve got you.”

The healer arrived not long after, and in a blur of movement and magic, the tightness in your throat began to ease, your breath slowly coming back. Azriel didn’t let go of you the entire time, his arms wrapped protectively around you as the healer worked. You could feel his fear through the bond, his silent prayers that you would be okay.

When it was finally over, and the healer assured him you would be fine, Azriel’s grip on you didn’t loosen. He held you in his lap, his arms wrapped around you as if he couldn’t bear to let go. 

The others trickled in quietly, relief evident in their faces, but they gave you both space. Feyre sent you a soft, comforting smile, and Rhys squeezed Azriel’s shoulder in silent support before retreating with the others, leaving you and Azriel alone.

You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. His hand gently stroked your back, but his grip remained firm, like he needed to remind himself that you were still there.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice still a little hoarse.

His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Don’t you dare apologize,” he said, his voice low but fierce. “I should’ve noticed sooner. I should’ve protected you.”

You shook your head, lifting your gaze to meet his. His hazel eyes were dark, swirling with emotion, but there was a tenderness there too, a love so deep it made your heart ache. “Az, it’s not your fault.”

He exhaled, his breath shaky as he pressed his forehead against yours. “I was so scared,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t— I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t,” you whispered back, reaching up to cup his face, your thumb brushing against the stubble on his jaw. “I’m right here.”

For a long moment, he just held you, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath steadying as he grounded himself in your presence. His shadows curled around the two of you, their usual restlessness now a gentle, protective cocoon.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice soft but full of emotion.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, feeling the bond between you hum with warmth and affection.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if to reassure himself that you were really okay. “I’m never letting you eat anything without checking it first,” he muttered, the possessiveness in his tone softened by the love behind it.

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling the warmth return to your chest. “Deal,” you whispered, resting your head against his chest again, letting his steady heartbeat lull you into a sense of peace.

Safe in Azriel’s arms, you knew that no matter what happened, he would always be there to protect you, fiercely and without hesitation. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[acotarxreader]

Flower

Azriel x Reader (Rhysands sister)

Synopsis: You and Azriel are sent deep into the mountains in search of a flower that may save Feyre's life during childbirth but quickly the frenemy status is put to the test as past trials come to a head leaving you to decide between your new sister and the potential love of your life.

Warnings: Fluff,, teasing angst, frenemies, physical fighting, mentions of wing damage/loss, blood, sweetness, silliness, Az calling the reader Kid.

A/N: You voted for it so here it is, my next Azriel fic. I enjoyed writing this, did it kinda quickly so forgive any mistakes and let me know what you think!

P.s I named Rhysand and Readers sister Aruna which means Moon in some languages.

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

“We’re lost Azriel”

“We’re not, you have no trust in me, this is basic Illyrian training” Azriel pushed an elongated branch from his path, releasing it thoughtlessly to smack you into the chest, a small yelp leaving you. 

“Fucking hell!” You swiped the pollen markings it left from your chest, knotting your face into a scowl towards the back of the Spymaster's head. 

“Next time duck” he called back, grin-laced words.

“Next time pick someone else to accompany you on your wild goose chases” Your boot sank into the uphill climb, the mud sinking its teeth into the well-worn leather as you fought with your lungs to keep breathing. 

“You were chosen for official Night Court duties by an official member of the Night Court government, have a little pride”

“An official Night Court prick more like” You muttered in reply to Azriel’s faux-inflated self-importance. Two days ago you had left Velaris, in pursuit of a special medicinal flower, Madja’s hope to save Feyre from the birth of her child. You had been hiking upwards for what felt like all 48 hours of your journey, your calves practically speaking to you now. 

“Do they not cover outdoor pursuit in your healer apprenticeship?” Another branch slapped into from the direction of the Spymaster.

“Do they not cover manners in Windhaven?” 

“You’ve known me for centuries, you know they don’t teach manners” He grinned, your sure footing overtaking his position as he held back a thicket of branches for you. You rolled your eyes as you passed him, missing his clear deception. Your foot snagged on a millennia old root system of an ancient tree, sending you finally downwards on your travel to bump along a forgotten path for a few seconds before another primeval tree stopped your course. Azriel shot with his usual agile step down after you. 

“I didn’t think you’d fly that far” He laughed down at you, your clothing covered in moss and mulch from your trip. 

“This is it, this is where you kill me. This was all a plot, all those centuries as the best pain in the ass culminating in this fake trip, Feyre isn’t even pregnant is she?!” You threw your arm across your forehead in fake dramatics, feining pain as he Azriel rolled his eyes before offering you a hand to pull you up. 

“I think if I was going to kill you, I’d have left Cassian to drown you that time we went swimming when we were 40”

“Ah, the last time I went swimming with you fools” You took his hand as he hauled you up, your muscles settling back into their place after their 360. You both continued your hike with some element of hurry but also with comfort.

“You used to love swimming with us and I mean c’mon I stopped him, no points for that?”

“You only stopped him because the death of Mor’s favourite cousin would have meant your certain death”

“I’m telling Rhysand you said that”

“Fine by me, he knows” You smirked before skipping along, hands behind your back in rested peace, your head gazing up through the canopy, the stars beginning to sparkle down over the moon-bathed forest. Azriel marvelled towards you, somewhat enamoured at the strong sense of peace radiating from his best friend's sister. You stretched above the sunken path towards a low-hanging branch, bright blush berries glowing in the scarce light. Your linen shifted slightly from your skin as you reached, revealing the troves of scars and chasms from the savagery of Spring's deepest betrayal of Azriel’s chosen family. You turned to him, a childlike grin as your cheeks filled with the lush fruit, a small laugh leaving Azriel as he gently shook his head. 

“Come here Kid, you’re all berry” He smiled, running the back of his sleeve down your cheek, banishing stray seeds until you pushed his arm away. 

“I’m like 10 years younger than you Gramps” 

“And I’ll always take care of you because of it” Soft tones of sincerity radiated from the Spymaster, his usual sarcasm towards you banished for a moment of truth. 

“Until you get old and frail and I send you to a retirement camp, you have about five good years left my friend” He shoved you back with a laugh, moment over. 

Another hour of so of what felt like aimless walking culminated in the both of you scaling prehistoric trees to settle in the canopy for rest, safe from the creatures roaming below in search of their next meal. 

Leaks of light snuck through the budding Spring flush of growth, crossing Azriel’s eyes until he stirred from his sleep. He sat up from his hammock, to look over to the adjacent tree to find your sling empty. 

“YN?” He yawned out, stretching as the branches creaked with the movement, your lack of reply had him calling out again. Azriel’s boots nearly split the soil on landing as he tried his best to keep his imagination from running away with his logic. He always woke up first and always had to haul you from your sleep, you were famously not a morning person. He called louder into the forest, listening back for any reply or clue as to where you’d run off to. He found his step quicken to match his heartbeat as he transversed great ground quickly. Light flashed around him as he found the edge of one of Illyria's many mountainous lakes, to see your silhouette floating in the centre of it. 

“YN!” He roared out, no response from you as his imagination very much took control. Without full consciousness, he tossed his over jacket to the ground, his heavy boots taking a spot next to it as he waded quickly into the silty lake, still calling for you. His feet could no longer touch the muddy bottom as he reached you in the centre of the still lake.

“YN!!!” A marred hand met your abdomen as the other found your lower back beneath the water, forcing your body up where you jolted out of your trance, thrashing water as you kicked your legs awake. 

“What the fuck you frightened me!” You pushed back from his hold, wrapping your arms around your waist, your snowy tank top clinging to your wet skin.

“You frightened me! What are you doing out here?” He pushed his wet hair from his face, allowing the colour to return to his face. 

“I was getting the moss and leaves out of my hair after yesterday’s little escapades, no need to lose your head” You shot back, before beginning to swim back to shore.

“I was calling for you! I thought something terrible happened to you!” Azriel allowed uncharacteristic anger to leech through his words as you both met the shore again. You turned your back to him as you wring out your hair, the drips of water creating mud in the dust. The soaked fabric clung to the fissures in your back where your wings once sat proudly, Azriel swallowed deeply at the sight, trying to keep the crime from inflating his anger further. You turned at his silence, noticing the path his eyes would have followed. 

“Something terrible already did happen Azriel” You bit, snatching your overshirt from the ground to shroud your scars, your shaking hands attempting to lock the buttons into place as the dots connected in Azriel’s head. 

“Is-is that why you don’t swim anymore? You don’t want people to see-to see what they did?” You looked up slowly through your eyelashes, hands on the final button before uprighting yourself completely. 

“The world should know what they did to me, what no amount of healer study I do can fix, what Tamlin’s fath- what that Court did to me, to my mother to my sister-” You bit out, the anger heating your skin seemingly drying the beads of water on your flesh “-and they will one day when Rhysand decides, when I am once again of use to my Court”

“YN, you’re of use now” he attempted to silence your inner voice escaping into the world, only to have you raise a palm. 

“To answer your question, no, that��s not why I don’t swim with you anymore, I don’t because Aruna loved it and the water feels wrong without our little sister-” Cold burning rage that Azriel was accustomed to seeing in Rhysand but never from you filled the space between you. 

“Now, let's go find that flower and go home, I’m not losing another sister” Azriel only nodded before leading the way back to the make-shift camp in contemplative silence. 

The next few hours carried that thematic silence through the woods, only the occasional check-in broke it up. You didn’t even comment when Azriel released multiple branches in your direction or when you definitely passed the same boulder twice. The soles of your shoes were leaving imprints on your feet but you stayed silent, refusing to give Azriel the satisfaction of being right when he told you to change your shoes. 

Azriel swung around to you on his heels as you released a blood-curdling scream from your exhausted lungs, a nearby bird fleeing the tree top at the raised alarm. His face lost any flush of colour as his eyes locked on the arrow piercing through your right thigh. He moved quickly to guide you to the floor as you screamed, blood spurting free from your flesh. In one swift movement, Azriel shielded you from another targeted arrow, it splicing one of the veins of his wings as he winced. 

“Azriel!” You cried, your shaking hand going towards the bloodied arrow. 

“Stay down!” He ordered, pulling some shrubbery over you as you crowed, his century-long training kicking into action as he launched in the direction of the ammunition. Tracking and trailing as fast as he could until he found the perpetrators, two members of the Hybern army armed to their teeth in weaponry. Azriel launched into swift movements, like a well-learned dance with vicious precision. 

Meanwhile, you snapped the long end of the arrow, leaving the cruel head with its teeth buried in your flesh. You pulled yourself up, desperate to follow the sounds of your best friend and his battle cry. Your hobbled step worked perfectly with your exhausted feet, sending you crashing for a second time this trip, down a bank to a stream. The welcomed thud of a great tree stopped you before you could enter the rushing water. You lifted your face from the squelch of the river clay, hazy eyes landing on a brilliantly blue flower, growing like a solitary soldier between ancient rocks. You groaned as you pushed up from the mud, your detour causing the head of the arrow to be pushed in further. You managed to snatch the lifeline from its home, tucking it into your pack before beginning your laboured ascent up the steep bank. The definition of an uphill battle as you fought against the overgrowth, using deep root systems like rescue ropes until you reached the mouth of the bank again. Your faltering step carried you in the direction of the Spymaster, who was deep in his own entanglement. You watched as Azriel slashed the leg of one soldier before pressing the other into a knotty tree trunk, his blood soon covering Azriel as Truth Teller dealt its fatal blow. 

“Azriel!” You shrieked in warning as the other soldier regained some strength, just as Azriel turned to your voice, a green-soaked blade slid into the Shadowsinger’s wing releasing pressurised blood systems.  The advantage didn’t last very long before Truth Teller claimed another victim, the soldier slumping to the ground with a final breath. Azriel stumbled backwards, his adrenaline fleeting until the support of a large oak met his back, allowing him to slide to the cool ground. 

“Az!” You yelped, limping to collapse next to his side, pallor growing across his face. You ran a hand over the wound, bright scarlet mixing with the sickly poison of a blade. 

“I told, I told you to stay” He spoke with gritted teeth, attempting to sit more upright against the tree. 

“You know I try my best to never listen to you” You smiled weakly, tears beginning to threaten the rim of your eyes as Azriel’s head dipped to fall on his chest. You moved quickly to prop his head up, his eyelids like lead as the poison worked through his system.

“We have to get you help, we have to get back”

“I-I can’t winn-ow both of-of us” Huffs of air left Azriel.

“Winnow yourself, I’ll figure it out” He lifted a heavy eyelid open, looking down to find your wound weeping fresh blood, swirling into his own. 

“The-re there could be mor-more of them out here YN, you-you have to be the one to-to go” 

“No!” You began digging through your pack, pouring the canteen of drinking water you had over his wound, trying to flush as much of the sick serum out as you could. The cobalt shimmer of the flower caught your eye again as you dug through for more water, looking from its bright colour to the dullness in your best friend. You began mashing it up into the lid of the canteen, its healing powers flowing into the water as you shook the two lifelines together. 

“YN you-you found it”

“I did Az and you’re going to drink it” He pushed away slightly from you. 

“Its-its for Feyre, get it to Feyre”

“I’ll figure that out, you need it Az” You held the lid of the canteen to his lips, Azriel turning his head from it despite his screaming nerves calling out for its relief. 

“Kid, it’s too-too valuable, give it to Feyre”

“You’re too valuable Az! I’m not losing you too, for once in your Godsdamn life don’t fight me! Let me look after you for once!” You grabbed the nape of his neck, tilting his head back to help the liquid into his mouth despite his futile protests. The sacred serum swirled through his system, like a torch in a blackout, defending off the tar-like liquid that tried to clog his system. You took your overshirt from your skin, ripping the clean sections free to soak in the remaining drips in the lid before applying it to the wound. 

“No YN, use-use it on yourself” He tried his best to push your arm away, unable to find the strength to allow you to make contact with the tattered spine. Unbeknownst to you, in your adrenaline-fueled state, your trousers were becoming laden with the blood spurting from your wounds. You sat back on your ankles, two Azriels dancing in your double-vision. You forced your eyes close, trying to banish one of the Azriels away, the swirl of blood loss becoming a bit too much as you fell back on your side, using a weakened arm to prop yourself up. 

“YN! You’re okay Kid! You’re gonna be okay, stay awake” Azriel turned himself onto his knees, his strength finding its way back to him as his hands met the soft skin of your cheeks, blood leaving them to rush towards your open wound. 

“I knew you’d be the death of me” You gave a weak laugh, your head rocking slightly from side to side. Azriel gave a small smile before closing the space between you, his medicinal-soaked lips meeting your frosted ones. Pulses of energy beat between you both, like everything that has ever happened both good and bad didn’t matter before this moment, each other’s lifeline in every sense. The traces of the river flower pulled you back from the brink with the essence of Azriel’s every being guiding you home. Shadows leapt around you both, pulling you both through the space until cool, clean stone laid under your legs. Azriel pulled back from you, his thumbs tracing over your cheeks as your eyes fluttered open. 

“Are you kissing my sister?” Rhysand stood from his desk to look down at his closest allies, in a ball on his office floor. Cassian leapt to help you up, lying you down on the chaise before Rhysand went to pull Azriel to his own feet. 

“It-it was to save her life” Azriel had thoughts of wishing the arrow had finished him off. 

“Likely story” Rhysand laughed, guiding his dear friend to his desk chair before sending for Madja. Cassian busied inspecting your battle wounds.

“We were attacked and-and they poisoned me and YN she-”

“-she gave you the flower?” Rhysand sank to Azriels eyelevel, searching for answers in the stormy eyes of the Spymaster. Azriel nodded gently, his head hanging in both shame and exhaustion. 

“It's okay Azriel, I wanted it for my mate, YN wanted it for hers” Azriel’s head shot back up to look at the High Lord's grinning face. Rhysand raised his hand to his face, making a locking motion at his lips before standing again, Madja quick on the scene to help. 

—-------------------

5 years later 

Azriel stood at the water's edge, the small lapping of the lake at his feet, the sun warming his wings as he stretched in the healing heat, a small V-shaped scar left in one of the spines. He allowed his eyes to fall close, inhaling the scents of the forest and the whoosh of the gentle breeze. 

“Argh!” He flinched at the sudden wave of cold water meeting his face, rubbing it from his eyes until he opened to see you stood, waist-deep in the lake and laughing. 

“You’re dead” He laughed before wading in as you roared with laughter, attempting to swim away from him to your friends. You took Nyx from Cassian’s arms as Azriel reached you. 

“I have the baby!” You laughed. 

“Oh weak move YN, hiding behind a child” He tilted his head back in laughter, Nyx kicking water up at his uncle, his own fit of giggles leaving him. 

“Not you too Kid! Betrayal!” Azriel chuckled, wiping the water from his face that Nyx quickly replaced again. You hugged Nyx close into your chest, Azriel paddling closer to you, his arms wrapping around the both of you, his hands tracing down the scars on your back, melting into the deep fissures on his hands, making the skin feel whole again. 

“Hey Az! Someone’s awake!” Rhysand called from the shoreline before bending down to the travel cot, pulling your baby from her cocoon, still swaddled in plush towelling. Cassian took Nyx from your arms before tossing him high in the air, Feyre immediately lecturing him. You and Azriel went laughing to the shore again, stray splashes escaping you both. Azriel took the baby from his brother's arms, kissing her head softly as she looked up at him, his entire world. 

“Hello Flower” 

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

Whatcha think?

ALSO! There are over 500 of you lovelies!!?? That's so crazy!!! Thank you so much for all of your kind words and support my friends! -C

[azrielbrainrot]

Such a Perfect Place To Start

Pairing: Azriel x Healer!Reader

Description: Something happens that has you questioning the nature of your relationship with the shadowsinger.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3911

Notes: When I started writing this I didn't think it was going to lead to that. Hope you like it!

Healer!Reader Masterlist

When you were called to the House of Wind so urgently by the High Lady herself you were expecting a more pressing matter, a life or death situation like you're used to, not exactly a library full of books. You don't know how long you've been sitting in this chair but you couldn't feel your butt anymore, no matter how many different positions you tried to sit in. You were used to doing some research while studying new healing techniques or herbs but these millenia old books on magical symbols were a little different.

There had been some attacks across the Night Court, including in the mountains surrounding Velaris, with some pretty disturbing details. After being killed, the victims' eyes had been removed and a symbol had been carved into their chests. All the symbols were different and, at this time, their meaning was still unknown. Unfortunately, none of the victims had survived either so there weren't any witnesses and, even after Azriel's thorough investigations, there was no evidence left behind by the culprits. It was as if no one had even been there.

You had heard some rumors about this before getting called in. Gossip spread around fast in Velaris and, even with the Inner Circle's efforts to keep panic to a minimum, people had found out about some of the details. The area around Velaris is relatively safe so to have multiple killings in a short time and in such gruesome ways was causing a bit of a fearful atmosphere to fall upon the city of dreamers. The increase in security wasn't easily missed either.

After being summoned to the River House, Feyre and Rhysand had briefed you on everything they knew and asked you for your help, seeing as they could only trust a few select people. Since there were no other clues left behind besides the symbols, the High Lord decided that, for now, everyone should focus on finding their meaning, so he sent his most trusted people to his private library to look through every book that might help.

You had obviously felt incredibly honored and happy that they trusted you this much. You've been getting closer to the inner circle after your talk with Azriel a few months ago, and sometimes still feared your friendships were a bit one sided.

As honored as you felt that they trusted you, though, you had spent days searching through old books just to come up empty. It was more tiring than a week at a war healing tent. Not to mention having to do so by Amren's side. You had no personal problems with the newly turned high fae but she still scared you profusely. Your power gave you a sense of people's aura and hers had always felt unsettling at best, even after getting turned.

At least, you weren't alone with her, everyone in the Inner Circle and some of the Valkyries had shown up at the library to help at some point. There was no way of knowing who could be behind these attacks and, from what you gathered, these fae had been moving across the court too easily, meaning they could be from the night court or even Velaris, so you couldn't involve the priestesses in the library.

The sky was already completely dark outside, making way for the millions of stars to shine in the sky. The atmosphere was a little too quiet for this time of night, usually there would still be fae walking around the city, in and out of bars and theaters. Amren had already left. The ancient one had tucked a book under her arm and walked out without much of a goodbye, leaving you with Feyre and Azriel in the library.

“I think it's time to stop for the day,” your High Lady's voice cut through the silence suddenly, “Rhys just finished at the office too.” Sometimes you envied how convenient the daematis abilities were. As her eyes glaze over and a smirk threatens to play at her lips, you know her mate is giving her a good reason to go home.

“I'll stay a bit longer,” you hold your finger over the passage you were reading, these old books had tiny fonts and you'd already lost yourself in enough of them to know better now, “I have to go to the clinic tomorrow so I wanted to at least finish this book.” There were only about half a dozen pages left of it so, even if your body was screaming at you to go to bed, you wanted to get this done first.

“Alright,” the High Lady adds her last book to the pile and looks at you one more time, “Don't stay too long. We need you to be focused at the clinic.” Her eyes shift to the shadowsinger and narrow slightly, her tone a little sterner, “You too, Az. Get some sleep.”

The spymaster nods dutifully at his friend's warning and she seems content enough with the response or in enough hurry to meet her mate, as she gives you both one last smile and turns to the door, saying one last goodbye over her shoulder.

Azriel stayed with you, even though his book had just started and there was no way he would finish it tonight. You were torn between thinking it was because he didn't trust you in the House by yourself, as the ever protective spymaster, and just writing it off as his willingness to help his court even at the risk of his own health and comfort, you don't even wanna think how many sleepless nights the spymaster has spent working lately.

You shake off your thoughts and keep reading the boring book. The sooner you finish the sooner you can go to sleep. Even your healing abilities can't do much to fight the headache you were feeling after spending the whole day reading symbols and their uses in dark magic, some of the rituals described were also making your stomach queasy.

Just as you're about to finish the last page, you hear a soft groan coming from Azriel and can't help but look up at him. His head was thrown back, showing off the column of his neck. His eyes were closed tight like he was fighting the same headache as you. With his wings stretched as far as they could go, it looked like they were taking up most of the private library, not that it was a small room by any means.

The spymaster looked exhausted. He's been spending his days meeting up with his spies and informants all around Prythian, trying to find any information on the attackers and investigating any strange movement in the court. At night, he comes home and joins you in the library to help with research, sometimes even staying up later than everyone else. You know he will do the same thing tomorrow and the day after, until you find any relevant clues and catch the killers.

Azriel takes these things more personally than maybe even the High Lord and Lady. His job as spymaster is finding any threats to the court after all, preferably before they happen. You know he must feel like he's failing his court and you wish you could show him that he's doing more than enough, that it's not his fault. Under the tough exterior and immense power, Azriel has an extremely kind soul, you've felt it. He'd make the impossible happen if it meant he could protect his court, his family, even if it cost him his own life.

“You should go to sleep,” you can't help but worry for him, “You were out all day before you came here. You must be really tired.”

You wonder how long it's been since he's had a good night of sleep. Even before this situation, it was no secret that the shadowsinger was a bit of an insomniac. You had given him a few sleeping tonics before in hopes of helping him have at least a few moments of peace.

“I'll wait for you,” he tells you, meeting your eyes. You can see the fatigue swirling around in his unguarded gaze, it seems you had been right to assume he hasn't been sleeping. “You're almost done.”

You look back down at your book and wonder how he's been keeping track of what you've been doing while reading his own book. Still, if finishing this means Azriel can go to sleep, you'll do it as fast as you can. Reading through the last page intently to make sure nothing escapes you.

Just as you're about to finish you make a silent request to the House, and two steaming cups of tea appear in front of each of you. Passionflower tea to lessen his stress and help with sleep, you've given it to him before and he told you it helped so you hope it does the trick once again.

Since you're focused on the book, you miss the way his eyes finally stray from your form to look down at the tea now sitting in front of him. You also miss the smile on his face when he reaches for it and the way his shadows let him know you were the one who asked for it, gushing about how you took care of their master.

“Do you still not trust me, Spymaster?” You close the book and put it into the ever growing pile. Stretching a bit before taking your tea into your hands and blowing on it gently.

“I trust you with my life, sweetheart.” The seriousness in his statement makes you pause with the cup halfway to your lips for a moment. You didn't need the Morrigan's gift to know he was telling the truth. The nickname takes a little longer to register but as soon as it does color rushes to your cheeks.

“Then why wait for me?” You hadn't actually thought he didn't trust you in the library but you still weren't sure why he had stayed behind after Feyre left.

“Wanted to keep you company until you finished,” he shrugged. His voice is a little gravely with sleep which is a big problem for the butterflies already fluttering in your stomach. “We've been spending a lot of time together but we've barely talked.”

He wants to talk to you. You can't help the smile or the giddy feeling washing over you. He's tired but he chose to stay up a little longer to do something as trivial as talking to you.

“What did you want to talk about then?” The way he's picking at the painted decorations in his teacup makes you think he might be feeling a little nervous but you're not sure why.

“Anything you want,” he answered a little too fast. Maybe it's the low lights in the room but you swear there's some color dusting his cheeks.

“It's hard to pick a topic like that,” you say before biting your lip slightly. For some reason you suddenly feel a little pressure to come up with a good topic, not wanting to disappoint or bore him. “Lately, all I can think about is this,” you run your finger over one of the books' spines, “It's hard to focus on anything else after spending hours in here.”

“If you feel like this is too much you can tell me. I'll talk to Rhys and he'll send you back to the clinic,” he frowns. His shadows reach a little towards you, as if wanting to comfort you. You didn't mean to worry him.

“That's not what I meant,” you start, “I want to help. I've just never dealt with anything like this. I've been to war but this… killing innocent fae in such a disturbing way is different.”

“I understand,” he nods, “If you need anything you can tell me. Even if you just want to talk.”

“Alright.” Azriel has a way of talking that leaves you not knowing how to respond sometimes. He's so sincere in what he says that you almost feel like any response would fall short. “You too. If you need help with anything I'm always here for you.”

He gives you a single nod before hiding what looked like a bashful smile behind his tea. You finish your teas like this, enjoying each other's company in the quiet of the night.

You can't hold back a yawn when you set your teacup down. As much as you'd love to stay up talking to Azriel all night, your body is about ready to crash on you.

“We should go to sleep,” he says as he stands up, making the teacups disappear. “You have to be at the clinic early.”

“You're right,” you agree with a sigh, standing up to follow him to the door. You've only been going to the clinic twice a week ever since Feyre asked for your help with this case so you know you'll have a long day ahead of you. “Will you fly me down tomorrow?”

“Of course,” he tells you as he opens the door for you, “What kind of male would I be if I let our favorite healer walk down the thousands of steps by herself?”

“Favorite? I'll tell Madja you said that,” you point your finger at him playfully.

“Second favorite then,” he takes it back with a wink, making you laugh. The smile lingers on your face all the way to the guest room you're staying in and it only deepens when you realize he walked you all the way to your door.

You turn and look up at him expectantly. It looks like he wants to tell you something with the way he's searching your face and his shadows pool at both of your feet. If you didn't know any better you'd think they wanted to crawl up your legs. You've found that they can give some of Azriel's emotions away sometimes, when he doesn't have a grip on them at least.

Your body doesn't react when he bends down slowly, pausing for a brief moment before kissing your cheek softly, murmuring a good night against your skin. It doesn't react after either, when he pulls back to watch your reaction. In fact, it's not until he walks over to his door and lets out a small chuckle, that you finally move and almost crash into the room, fumbling with the doorknob and slamming the door behind you.

As you lean your back against the door, you put your hand over your chest and stare wide eyed at the window across the room. You almost thought you were imagining things. He can probably hear your heart beating all the way in his room across the hall, you wouldn't be surprised if everyone in Velaris could hear with how loud it's beating. You let yourself slide against the door until you're crouching.

You hadn't expected him to kiss you. You know Azriel isn't one for a lot of physical touch. You've only gotten a hug out of him once, during the war after an attack on the healer's tent. He had thought you were dead then, after watching so many die he'd just been glad to see someone he knows still breathing. Actually, you might have been the one to hug him first. You had never been so close to death and were scared out of your mind. It was your first war after all.

You and Azriel had been getting closer over the months, closer than you were with the rest of Inner Circle. Even before your talk that night, he's always been friendly to you, but the shadowsinger was kind to all the healers - to everyone that wasn't his enemy really - so you never thought much of it. But this felt different. Tonight felt different.

You hadn't fully admitted it to yourself yet but the more time you spent with the shadowsinger the more your crush evolved. What had once been a silly crush based on appearance and his kind nature had quickly turned into palpable feelings. You liked him. A lot.

However, acknowledging this could destroy the friendship you had built with him for the past few months, maybe with the rest of his family as well. That's what you thought before at least. You assumed Azriel would never have feelings for you. The idea seemed so preposterous it never even crossed your mind, but now you're not so sure.

Maybe it seemed like you were exaggerating to think this after a little kiss, on the cheek no less, but this kiss made you think back on the last months you've spent with Azriel. He's been insisting on flying you up and down the stairs every time he's around, usually this task would be left to Cassian, who loved showing off his wings to you.

He's been going to the clinic more often too, stocking up on anything he can think of when he's never done that in the century you've been working in Velaris. Azriel was always one to not think much of his own health, it bothered you to no end. He also came to you with every injury. Usually when a member of the Inner Circle was hurt, Madja was the one who was called. You'd only accompany her if she needed assistance or go in her place if she wasn't able to go herself. Of course over the years they'd come to use you more and more, which is why you didn't even think of it, but looking back now… You don't know what to think anymore.

Getting up with a sigh, you make your way to your closet to change. Your thoughts consume you while you get ready for bed but your tiring day catches up to you as soon as your head hits the pillow. However, this doesn't spare you from dreaming of a certain shadowsinger.

You take longer to wake up than usual, making you hurry through your morning routine. Your body isn't used to the schedule you've been putting it through lately, and it's starting to show. But because of this, it isn't until you go to open the door to the guest room that you remember Azriel is going to fly you down to the clinic. And the incident that had you spiraling before going to sleep.

Deciding walking down the steps by yourself isn't a viable option, you go to find him and pray to the Mother things aren't too awkward between you. It had just been a little kiss on the cheek and your lack of reaction could totally be blamed on the long day, your brain was just having trouble catching up, that's all. It had been a completely normal exchange between friends, not that you're blushing just thinking about it or anything. You could just pretend it didn't happen.

As you make your way to the front door, the shadows dancing around in the hallway catch your eye instantly. You've seen them do this before, when Azriel doesn't need them and they don't want to brave the light, they just linger around the room in curious little wisps. You can't help the smile as they gravitate slowly towards you.

Right after they notice you, their master appears through the door. One of them must have warned him of your arrival, they're so cute sometimes you forget they're spies. Of course they'd tell on you.

“Good morning,” he greets. Azriel may be a shadowsinger but he looks breathtaking in the morning light. His skin glows beautifully and his eyes look a little lighter, it makes him look younger. Gods, how can he be so beautiful?

He looks a little relieved to see you. Maybe he thought you'd escape by yourself or ask someone else to fly you to the clinic to avoid him. It makes you feel a little bad that you had him worried but it's his own fault for playing with your heart like that.

“Good morning,” you smile, walking up to him. “Are you ready?”

“I was just waiting for you,” he says as he extends a hand for you to take. This has the nerves already lingering inside your body make themselves more noticeable. You almost forgot flying you down means he'll have to carry you. It had taken a while for you to get used to not only the flying but also the way he had to hold you - funny how you never had this problem with Cassian.

You take his hand and try not to move too much or gasp as he picks you up off the floor like you weigh nothing. He immediately starts walking to the edge of the stairs, holding you close to his chest.

“Hold onto me,” he breathes into your ear, extending his wings and getting ready to take flight. You do as he says and wrap your arms tighter around his neck, praying he can't feel your heart beat inside your chest.

You'll never get over how stunning Velaris looks from above or how the wind passes around you as you soar through the clouds. It's a real shame that you weren't born with wings. You understand why Illyrians are so protective of them, after knowing what this feels like, it's hard to imagine never being able to do it again.

“You know I won't drop you.” You look away from the landscape and meet his gaze. He can probably feel how tense you are but you can't tell him it has nothing to do with the height or any fear of him letting you fall.

“I know,” you assure. “What would you do without your favorite healer?” He lets out a small laugh in response and your body finally relaxes.

The flight doesn't take long, and, before you know it, he's landing right outside your clinic. He helps you get down and even holds onto you a little longer, giving you a once over to make sure you're steady on your feet.

An idea passes through your mind and you bite your lip, wondering if you'd truly lost it. You take a quick look around before you lose your nerve. It was still early enough that the streets were almost deserted, no one should see you.

Turning back to the shadowsinger, you hesitate again when you notice him watching you, probably wondering what you were up to. If you read the situation wrong this could make things very awkward for the two of you.

Deciding not to let your anxiety reign your life, you grab his shoulder gently so you can pull him a little closer to your height. Standing on your tiptoes to clear the rest of your height difference. You hold onto his cheek and place a soft kiss on the other side of his face, murmuring a “thank you”.

You step back again and look up at him, still slightly bent from where you pulled him to you and looking at your face with wide eyes. You're not sure if you've ever seen the feared spymaster so caught off guard before. There was a small smile playing at his lips though, so you assume you hadn't completely misread the situation. You can't help but form a grin of your own and turn around to go inside the clinic, leaving him behind just as he did to you last night. Your heart soaring higher than you had just been.

[azmageddon]

I Can’t Lose Him

Pairing: Azriel x Cassian’s twin!healer!reader

Summary: When Azriel is injured during the war with Hybern, will your healing abilities be enough to save him?

Warnings: blood, injured az, needles, detailed medical treatment (let me know if I missed anything!), Painfully inaccurate to the original storyline

a/n: this is my first fic! I would love feedback and let me know if you’d love to hear more! This could be part of an ongoing universe where Y/N is Cassian’s twin sister and a healer.

The sound of the heavy cloth covering the entrance to the medical tent being whipped open caught your immediate attention. Your head jolted up from the wound you were currently cleaning from a warrior. Blood and dirt had oozed from his leg, but you had managed to hold pressure long enough to staunch the bleeding. Now, as you sewed the ends of his skin back together, your eyes darted around the tent, looking for whomever it was that entered in such a panicked hurry.

You saw Rhys at the entrance, looking around wildly for something, or maybe someone. When his wild eyes met yours and stayed there, your heart skipped a beat, knowing it was your worst nightmare coming to life.

You quickly handed your stitching task to one of your healers. “Finish for me, Jessina,” you asked, before rushing to Rhys’ side. There was only one reason he would be in the medical tent.

“Who is it?” You asked hesitantly, afraid of what his answer might be. When Rhys didn’t immediately respond, you knew it must be bad. “Cassian? Feyre? Please, Rhys, say something.” You avoided saying the one name you feared most out loud, as if merely saying it would make it true.

But Rhys shook his head and you knew your silent prayer for your mate would go unanswered.

“Y/N,” Rhys began, gripping your wrists, “it’s not good. Cassian is trying to get him out.”

“How bad is it?” You whispered, afraid your voice would give out.

You felt sharp talons scraping at your mental shield, which you lowered just enough for Rhys to slither through. Immediately, a scene played for you in your mind, consuming all your senses. You knew you were watching Rhys’ memory.

Azriel flew with the large Illyrian legion above him, their great wings sounding in unison like the beat of a war drum. Headed straight for the group of winged Hybern enemies, the two armies collided in a tangle of swords and wings and limbs. Rhys watched as warriors from both sides suffered injuries, but it wasn’t until a certain Shadowsinger caught the wrong end of a Hybern sword that he faced a fate of plummeting hundreds of feet to the hard ground below him. Faster and faster Azriel fell, twisting in the air with the Hybern enemy he refused to untangle himself with, clearly vowing to take down whoever he could with him. As the couple dropped closer and closer to the ground, Rhys knew the fall alone would kill his Spymaster. At the last moment, Rhys flung out his power, hoping it would create at least some type of force field between Azriel and the ground before he hit the dirt with a sickening thud, and moved no more. Rhys, too far away to make it to his brother in time, immediately called out to Cassian’s mind to retrieve him and ran to the medical tent to alert the best healer he knew.

The vision ended with Rhys slithering quickly out of your mind. “Oh gods,” you whispered, a hand flying to your mouth in disbelief. Immediately you opened your end of the bond and were met with a severe onslaught of pain, agony, and fear. The force of the emotions hit you like a tidal wave, and would have forced you to your knees if Rhys wasn’t there to steady you. It wasn’t until you closed your side of the bond again that you were able to breathe and think normally, instead of being all-consumed by the pain.

“Incoming, Y/N,” Rhys warned, and almost immediately the tent flaps whipped open again, revealing a wild eyed Cassian and a writhing, screaming Azriel in his arms. Blood covered the Shadowsinger and Cassian, dripping steadily to the floor where they stood. Feyre, Mor, and Nesta pushed through the tent flaps behind Cassian, effectively crowding your tiny medical space.

Every instinct told you to reach out for your mate, to fall at his feet and beg anyone, anything, to save him. But you forced yourself to take one look at a sobbing Azriel, and you turned away, screaming for Madja.

“Get the surgical supplies ready!” You screamed as you raced for the metal table in the back of the medical tent. Reserved only for emergent needs, the metal table was hidden behind a large white sheet to hide the horrors that happened there from the other onlooking wounded.

You turned back to your mate, thankful that Cassian had the sense to follow you. “Put him there,” you ordered, pointing to the metal table. “Gently Cassian, on his back. Watch his wings!” You closed your eyes as Cassian settled his brother on the table. The innate part of you that felt the panic rising in fear for your mate’s life had to be pushed down. You felt it coming in waves, but forced yourself to keep it contained. You knew that if you let your instincts get ahead of you, then it was a death sentence for you mate.

The sharp talons scraped again, and you let Rhys in fully this time, allowing him to speak to you.

“He needs you, Y/N. You can do this,” Rhys whispered into your mind. You sent your gratitude to him mind-to-mind, and allowed him to stay inside your metal shields as a form of comfort and communication for what lay ahead.

When you opened your eyes again, Madja was at your side, setting up the supplies you might need. Digging deep into your power, you reached a hand out to Azriel, who lay on the table writhing in agony, blood quickly pooling around him and dripping off the cold metal table to the floor below. When you touched your hand to his chest, you let out a full blast of your power, giving him a jolt of pain as he felt it singe all of his senses. He cried out as your power raced through his body to assess for wounds and injuries.

The information relayed back to you was horrifying. Multiple cuts and bruising littered Azriels skin, including a deep laceration to his scalp, which was the source of most of his bleeding. Thankfully, the head injury seemed to be only skin deep, preserving his skull and brain from damage.

The same couldn’t be said for his left hip and leg, which lay at an odd angle from the multiple fractures beneath the skin. His hip, completely dislocated, and lower leg were broken into multiple pieces. A dislocated right shoulder and a few cracked ribs were the extent of the injuries on the right side of his body. His wings were badly damaged from the fall, with snapped bones and holes in the delicate membrane, but they would have to be fixed last. You could only rightly assume he had fallen to the ground and landed on his left side, because most importantly was the multitude of broken ribs on his left flank, two of which were folded inward, puncturing and deflating his left lung completely.

Rhys, who has been quietly sitting at the back of your mind, accidentally let a blast of his own terror into your mind as he felt your power relay the information back to you. You immediately caught eyes with the High Lord, and from your shared mind, you knew he was thinking the same thing you were.

The broken ribs and punctured lung was the same injury that killed his father when you failed to save him during the first war with Hybern.

“Things have changed since then,” Rhys reassured you. You kept your eyes locked as you silently communicated, pushing the rising nausea back down deep into your belly. “You’re the best healer in all the courts. If anyone has will save him, it will be you.”

“Y/N!” Nesta shouted from beside you, pulling your attention away from your silent conversation and back to reality. “He’s losing a lot of blood, you need to do something!”

“I can’t move,” Azriel gasped between sobs of pain. “I can’t move!”

You realized with a quick jerk of your arm back that you had kept your hand on his chest while conversing with Rhys, accidentally paralyzing him in the process as your power rippled over him. Now that you had removed your hand, he began thrashing again.

With a quick flick of your wrist, the bleeding from Azriel’s scalp stopped, the capillaries fused shut. “Head wounds bleed a lot, but that’s not his problem,” you said to no one in particular as you turned to look at Madja. “It’s his lung. It’s like before.”

Madja, who had been with you at the time of the previous High Lord’s death, immediately understood. “Get ready to turn him,” she said, turning her attention to Cassian and giving him instructions.

“His legs,” you said, reaching for his shattered hip. “I need to stabilize them before we move him or he may never walk again.”

A deep, pained groan left Azriel’s mouth as you ran your hand along his legs, purposefully paralyzing them this time. Forcing the bones straight, the once stoic shadow singer let out a gasp of agony as the bones ground against one another.

“You will walk again, brother,” you heard Cassian whisper, as he prepared to follow Madja’s instructions to turn him.

“You’ll have to keep him still, Cassian,” you warned your twin, “I’ll have to cut him open.”

With a quick nod and a count to three, Madja and Cassian log rolled Azriel onto his right side and positioned him to give unrestricted access to his left flank. The fighting leathers were easily cut away from his body under Madja’s expert tools. Whispering a quick spell under your breath, you felt your hands clean and sterilize themselves in preparation for the first cuts.

“Put him to sleep, Rhys,” you said out loud. The High Lord quickly approached the table and put his hands around Azriel’s head, trying to break into his mind to effectively knock him out.

When a few moments went by and Azriel was still gasping in pain and cursing under his breath, you began to worry.

“What’s going on?” You asked Rhys in your head.

“His shields,” he responded out loud, “he’s too high strung to relax long enough for me to break through. They’re ironclad.”

The rising panic threatened to overwhelm you as you faced the impending reality of having to cut through your mate’s skin to his lung while he was awake.

“You have to do it,” Madja said, confirming your worst nightmare. “We can only hope he’ll pass out from the pain.” Her arm extended toward you, scalpel in her hand for you to take.

Please pass out, please pass out, please pass out, became your internal mantra as you took the blade from Madja. Taking a deep breath, you lined it up with Azriel’s tanned skin. “I’m sorry, Az,” you whispered as the blade sliced through skin and muscle and tissue, eliciting screams of pain from your mate that echoed through the medical tent.

“Keep him still, Cassian,” you ordered as you continued to cut through to Azriel’s lung. He was still conscious, beads of sweat dripping from Rhys brow as he attempted to break through his mental shields.

When you had successfully reached the damaged lung, you extended an arm into Azriel’s body, spreading your powers through him again, concentrating on that particular area. When your powers shot through his body this time, he flinched again, nearly falling off the table to the ground.

“Damnit, Cassian!” You shouted. “Keep him still or I’m going to kill him! I’m elbow deep in his body! What’s going on, Rhys?”

“I can’t get through!” He responded, fear lacing his words and working its way into your mind. You pushed him out of your head, reestablishing your own mental shields. You had enough of your own fear, you didn’t need someone else’s in your mind as well.

You made eye contact with Feyre from across the room. Panic danced in her eyes but she opened her mind to you immediately when you made eye contact.

You send an image into her head of a small box hidden well in yours and Azriels shared tent. “Bring it to me,” you commanded. Within seconds, she was gone.

You continued to work on Azriel’s wound, using your powers to close the wound and reinflate the lung. With the wound still deep and oozing blood continuously, Madja handed you the supplies to stitch the lung closed. All the while, Azriel fought Cassian on the table, awake and writing in pain.

You sensed Feyre’s arrival back into the tent and at your side the moment she returned. Madja recognized the box and nodded her head in agreement. Without taking your eyes off your work, you instructed Feyre with the next steps.

“Take the needle out and draw up the clear liquid in the red vial. It’s an extremely strong pain tonic. I save it for emergency cases, and it’s incredibly potent.”

Feyre did as instructed and drew the liquid into the syringe. You pulled one hand out of Azriels chest and pointed to a spot along his left shoulder muscle. “Stab the needle there, and make it deep. Inject the tonic there.”

Feyre hesitated, her hands shaking the needle she held. “I’m not like you, Y/N, I can’t do something like that.”

You finally looked up at your High Lady and caught her eye. You briefly let your instinct take over and let the panic be heard in your voice as it cracked. “Please, Feyre,” you begged. “Please, I can’t lose him.”

With another cry of agony from Azriel, she eyed the spot you had marked with a bloody finger on his shoulder and plunged the syringe in deep, pushing the pain tonic into his muscle.

Within seconds, Azriel’s body laid limp underneath you, his screams of pain cut off and erratic breathing stopped. You felt your own heart stop in your chest as you feared the worst had happened. If your hands weren’t inside his chest so close to his beating heart, you would have thought it had stopped all together.

“It’s just me!” Rhys shouted, sensing the panic from everyone in the room. “The medication relaxed him enough for me to shatter his shield. I knocked him out.”

Relief flooded you and you returned to Azriel’s chest to finish your work, praying you had learned enough in the last 350 years to save him.

[daycourtofficial]

I’m Still Stuck in the Moment

Summary: a mistake on a mission causes you to lose your memories from the last five years, including the new mating bond between you and Azriel. Can he help you get your memories back, or will you never remember the past five years?

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Author’s note: this has been a wip since October I really hope you guys like it. It’s also my longest fic to date - so please enjoy! 💕

“Stealth missions are so boring,” Cassian states from behind you.

“Maybe that’s why you usually don’t get assigned on stealth missions, dummy,” you reply while looking through the desk drawers.

“I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to be looking for. Sometimes Azriel talks and I just tune him out.” Cassian mimes with his hands a talking motion and rolls his eyes.

“Cassian, why are you even on this mission if you don’t know what we’re looking for and you don’t like stealth missions?” You ask not looking up at him as you search through the papers on the desk.

“Hmm,” he says, pretending to search through the papers as he drops his voice, “it’s been a while since we’ve hung out the two of us.”

You pause and turn to look at him, a big grin overtaking your face.

“You missed me,” you say, delight coating your voice.

“No, I didn’t say that. You’re twisting my words,” he says, pretending to be annoyed, going to search a different part of the room.

You had been a part of the inner circle for about three years when the mating bond snapped into place. All throughout those three years Cassian did everything he could think of to put you and Azriel together. He’d constantly ask you two to dinner and be ‘sick’ and then magically be okay the next day. He’d force you two to sit next to each other during every dinner, solstice, lunch, breakfast, meeting. Any event where you had to sit down, you had to sit next to each other. Anytime you had to be flown somewhere, Cassian would mysteriously have flown away, leaving Azriel to fly you. The cauldron works hard, but Cassian works harder.

No one else could figure out Cassian’s borderline obsession with the two of you. Whenever Rhys or Feyre or anyone would ask him, he’d simply shrug and say “I have a hunch” or, if he was feeling particularly chatty, “I think they’d have stunning children”.

The truth was Cassian loved the both of you so much that he wanted to see you two happy. He also knew there was something between the two of you, he just didn’t know what. He was there the day you and Azriel were introduced, and he felt something. He wasn’t sure if it was possible to feel someone else’s mating bond, but he could feel the potential between you two.

You laugh as you continue rifling through the desk. “You know Cassian if you want to spend time together all you had to do was ask-“

You’re cut off by a cloud of pink dust coming out of a drawer you opened and covering your face. You start coughing and backing away.

“Shit,” Cassian says, coming over to you. He starts looking you over, assessing for damage.

“I’m fine,” you say, in between coughs, “dusty old drawer.”

Cassian looks skeptical. “Yes, because pink dust is so common.”

You roll your eyes. “We’ve searched the room, there’s nothing here. Let’s go home.”

The mission debrief was short - not much to report. The two of you searched an abandoned outpost, seeing if anything of interest was left behind, finding nothing of value or interest.

You enjoyed stealth missions, but you especially loved coming home to your overly protective mate. You two had a tradition - your own personal debrief, where Azriel would inspect every inch of you for any sign of injury. Wherever you were injured, whether it be bruise, scrap, or cut, he would place long kisses on the spot.

“Better than a healer,” he’d say.

The length of the mission would determine how long the two of you stayed locked up in each other. You two usually spent double the length of the mission together uninterrupted.

Once, after a four day long mission, no one had seen either of you for a week. Rhys had to send a telepathic message to find proof of life from either of you.

That night, Azriel checked your wounds, which you’re not even sure you had any. You considered even “accidentally” cutting your finger, but decided against it.

-

You woke up to a dark room, feeling a heavy presence wrapped around you. Whoever it was was massive, incredibly warm, and had quite the grip on you.

You’re not crazy about casual flings, but it’s not too unheard of, especially considering you spent last night drinking with Cassian and Mor at Rita’s. Mor loved playing matchmaker with you, trying to set you up with the most eligible males she could find.

You look around the room, the realization of being naked hitting you. You spot a pile of clothes on the floor and gently lift the arm off of you and slip out from under the male. You grab the clothes, putting the shirt on first. It seems to be the mystery male’s - it’s incredibly long on you, smelling of pine and mist.

“Going somewhere?” the male asks, rising up from the bed to meet you where you stand.

“Yes, I’m uh I’m so sorry but I don’t remember getting here, so I’m just going to head home.” You say, walking backwards towards the door. As the male comes closer, you recognize him.

“Azriel?” You ask.

“Yes, who else would I be?” Azriel replies, a hint of confusion dancing in his eyes, “come back to bed, you’re probably just confused after a dream.”

“Uh, wow, um I-“ you dart your eyes around the room “I’m so sorry but I don’t remember how I got here, let me go back to my room.”

He stops, all signs of playfulness gone. “You don’t have a room. This is your room. This is our room.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Sweetheart, you moved into my room a few years ago. Your room is just another guest room now.”

You blush at the nickname. Despite your best efforts, he had hardly said much to you in the time you’ve known him. Despite the nickname, the weight of his words starts to settle on you.

“Um, no I have a room here. This isn’t a very good joke, Az.” You say, opening the door to go to your room across the hall. Your feet carry you to your room, your hand resting on the knob as Azriel reaches for you, calling for you. You’re not sure why there’s such confusion in his tone. You open the door to what used to be your room, only to find it devoid of any signs you had lived in it.

The room looked like it had the day you moved in, sans the welcome basket Feyre and Rhys had assembled for you and left on the bed. The blue barren walls stare back at you, the four poster bed neatly made.

No hearth in the fire, no books on the nightstand, no flowers on the desk. Even your beloved stuffed wolf that Cassian teased you about was nowhere to be seen.

“Azriel, where is my stuff?”

Azriel stares at you, in utter shock and disbelief. He grabs your hand, leading you through the house. You’re forced to follow him, due to both his tight but gentle grip on you and your curiosity at where all of your things went. The sounds of his footsteps echo through the hall, a level of noise you’ve never heard from him. Usually he glides through these halls, not a trace of noise made to alert anyone of his presence.

“Azriel, what’s wrong?” You keep asking, and he won’t reply until you’re face to face with Rhys’s bedroom door, where Azriel starts banging fiercely on it.

Cassian is the first to poke his head out, his door down the hall from Rhys’s. Once he sees Azriel is the one causing all the commotion, he comes out into the hall, looking around for any unseen threats.

Rhys opens the door, a pair of sweatpants hastily put on as he allows the three of you entry. You assume Rhys had the same reaction to Cassian, annoyance quickly changing to concern at Azriel’s tone.

You assume that Azriel, Rhys, and Feyre are all communicating telepathically because it is dead silent in the room until Feyre comes up and tells you to have a seat in one of their chairs by the fire.

“Okay, now tell me, what happened?” Rhys asked, putting his hands on your shoulders in reassurance.

“Well I um think I’m missing a few pieces but uh last night I went to Rita’s with Cassian and Mor, I got pretty drunk, and I woke up naked in Azriel’s room. I woke up, I tried to leave, only to find out my room is gone.”

Cassian looks at you, concern etching his face, “we went to Rita’s?” He asks, pointing a finger between you and him.

“Yeah,” you say, “you had been out to see Devlen and when you came back you asked if Mor and I wanted to go out with you. No one else was here.” You look to Feyre and Rhys, becoming even more confused. “Why are you guys all back so early?”

“What do you mean “back early”?”

“Well, Azriel had some mission on the continent, and Feyre and Rhys were visiting the summer court with Amren.”

“Mother help us,” Cassian muttered, as he realized his error, dragging a hand across his face. “On our mission yesterday, she breathed in an unknown powder. It had slipped my mind, she seemed so fine, I didn’t think anything of it.”

You could feel the anger vibrating off of Azriel as he turned to Cassian, spitting “What do you mean you didn’t think anything of it? You didn’t think anything of my mate on your mission?”

Azriel’s words don’t register with you as you were too focused on Cassian’s. “But I didn’t go on any missions yesterday. I spent the day at the library, doing research. Cassian found me, asked me to go to Rita’s, and I told him I’d pay for all of his drinks if he went down to the bottom level of the library.”

“Oh, Mother.” Cassian muttered. “Let’s stop for a moment.” Rhys said, crouching in front of you. His violet eyes shone with kindness and concern as he tells you, “Feyre and I went to the summer court with Amren five years ago.”

“That’s not possible” you scoff, “you guys just left three days ago.”

You look towards Azriel, his usual stoicism a thing of comfort in times like this. Instead you’re met with deep despair as he looks back at you, and somehow you can feel that despair deep in your chest.

Rhys moves away from you as Azriel walks towards you and crouches down in front of you, looking at you like you hold his entire life in the palm of your hands, “Sweetheart,” he starts, “what am I to you?”

Your cheeks flare with heat. You start stammering, his gaze overwhelming. He wants some specific answer, this you know. His gaze is piercing and you can’t look away.

“When we were in the summer court,” Feyre starts musing, “that was… before, right?”

“Before what?” You ask, while Azriel nods his head, confirming Feyre’s question.

The room has grown silent again, before Azriel takes your hands and says “before we became mates.”

Your cheeks are on fire now, wishing you could be having this conversation in private, instead of in front of your family.

“Wait, is that why you came back early? You realized we were mates when you were on the continent?” You whisper the last part as of it’s a secret.

As if Azriel’s face couldn’t show you anymore devastation, he replies, “Sweetheart, we’ve been mated for two years.”

You couldn’t have heard him correctly. “I’m sorry,” you say, “have you been keeping it from me for two years? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Rhys steps in, sparing Azriel the pain of further explaining this to you, “you two have been mates for two years. The war with Hybern is over.”

You look into everyone’s eyes, trying to find a trace of humor, “this isn’t a funny joke, it’s quite cruel.”

“No one is joking,” Cassian says. You stand up, beginning to pace the room.

“No no no, you have to be, because either Mor thought this would be a funny joke because of my crush on Azriel or I’ve forgotten the last five years of my life, including getting a mate and surviving the war.”

You look around the room, everyone looking at either you or Azriel, not a trace of humor in the room.

“This has to be a joke because how cruel would it be for Azriel to find a mate just for them to forget everything about him. Five years! Five years of my life are gone! Up to this point in time, Azriel has said maybe five words to me!”

You are hyperventilating by this point, pacing the room, shaking.

“Rhys,” Azriel says, “please.”

Rhys envelops you in a hug, and everything goes dark for you as you slump into his arms. He picks you up, gently laying you on their couch, draping a blanket over you.

Everyone in the room is just staring at you, praying for you to just jump up and tell them this was all a joke. Azriel just sits on the floor next to you, holding your hand, tears streaming down his face.

“I-“ he starts saying quietly, “I-uh I always wondered how the Cauldron would make me suffer for making her my mate. I always knew it would take her away from me in the end, but not like this. I never could have dreamt of this outcome. I never.. never could have imagined how painful it’d be to see her forget me.”

No one is dry-eyed. Everyone is devastated for you, but especially for Azriel. Cassian, Feyre, and Rhys leave the bedroom, allowing Azriel to stay with you while Rhys keeps you under. They all head to Rhys’ study.

“There is some good news in this.”

Cassian and Feyre snap their heads to look at him, urging him to continue.

“When I was in her mind to sedate her, I could tell she still had memories of the past five years. Some of them were memories so ingrained to her that she has no idea what they are. Another thing is that I could tell the memories were there, they’re just… locked up.”

“Locked up? Like a prisoner?” Feyre asks.

“Yes,” Rhys replies, “like a prisoner.”

“So this powder is keeping her memories hostage?”

He sighs, looking towards the door, thinking about his brother’s face. “It would appear that way.”

Madja was called to look over you in your unconscious state, and after she found nothing wrong, they decided to wake you back up.

While you were unconscious, they decided that Mor and Cassian would watch over you unless you ask otherwise. Rhys wakes you up gently, asking if you need anything. After you decline, he leaves you alone with Mor and Cassian.

“So, um..” you start, not sure where to begin. “Five years?”

Mor nods.

“The war is over?”

Cassian smiles solemnly and nods.

“And Az and I?”

Cassian’s grin widens as he looks at you, thinking about the love you share with his brother. You play with your thumbs, unsure what to ask.

“What do you guys, uh, think of us? Do we seem happy?”

Cassian snorts while Mor replies, “oh we adore the two of you. Cassian is convinced he knew of your mating bond the day you two met.”

Cassian puffs out his chest in pride. “I most certainly knew, years before they did.”

“What made you know?” You ask, curiosity filling your eyes as you sat up.

“Well,” Cassian says, “the two of you didn’t interact much the first few years. Azriel needs time to warm up to people, and he’s worried he’ll scare people off if he comes on too strong. But I could just tell that he so desperately wanted to be your friend.”

“Hmm,” you muse, looking at Cassian in a confused way, “I always assumed he didn’t like me.”

Cassian looks at you quizzically, “and why is that?”

You sigh. “I always thought he found me… too soft. Too delicate.” You look out the window, and Cassian feels a pang of guilt. He knew Azriel could be a bit icy at times, but he hadn’t remembered what it felt like to not have that friendship.

Cassian studies you, “Why’d you think that?”

“I don’t know, it was just little things, I suppose. He’d never laugh at my jokes or talk to me much. Once you had paired us to be sparring partners and he just told you no and walked away to work with someone else.”

You remember a version of Azriel who hardly knew you. You’ve been placed in time right before Cassian started forcing you two to spend time together. For you, Azriel is practically a stranger.

Tears start rolling down your cheeks, “I don’t know him,” you say, “but it’s like my body knows him. I don’t.. know him.”

You take a deep breath, looking around the room to avoid Cassian’s sad face. “But I want him here. I don’t know why, maybe it’s the bond, but I just… want him here.”

You look down sighing, “I feel so bad that this is happening to him, he doesn’t deserve this. Even if I don’t know him.”

Cassian didn’t think his heart could break anymore, but he was wrong. Watching you cry over Azriel’s predicament but not your own gutted him. He moved to sit next to you on the couch and pulled you into his lap, letting you cry for a while.

After several hours of sitting with Mor and Cassian, Elain had recommended you get some fresh air, take a walk in the gardens. You ask if Azriel can join you, so he is staying near you, keeping an eye on you, but not too close.

You walked slowly, not sure if you wanted Azriel to catch up to you or to stay back. You felt gutted that this would happen to Azriel, despite your next to non-existent relationship with him up to this point.

The male trailed behind you, keeping the same distance in spite of your constantly changing pace. Your thoughts whirled and swirled, much like the shadows that dance around your mate. Your mate. You have a mate. And he’s here. That realization caused you to take some deep breaths, trying to keep yourself from spiraling into a panic.

Your brain can’t recall these things, but your body calls for him, wanting you to reach out and grab his hand. It is telling you that you stand on his left normally, allowing free range of motion for his dominant hand. It is telling you to let him lay on top of you, resting his head on your chest while he dozes off to nap. It is telling you to reach out and cup his jaw, that he will smile as you do so and pull you closer to him.

You don’t have memories of him, you have imprints of him, leaving whispers into your skin of how you were made for him. The yearning becomes too much and you need to hear him, so you turn to him and ask, “who did it snap for first?”

He blinks, a bit taken aback by your talking to him. He hasn’t heard you speak since the realization in Rhys’s office, much less speak to him directly. He takes longer strides, catching up to you quickly. He clears his throat and looks at you, “it snapped for me first, and I got to watch it snap for you.”

A soft smile graces his lips as he recalls the moment, so clearly in his memories he wishes he could send it directly to you. He can, he thinks, deciding that if you don’t have your memories, he’ll provide them for you.

“I bought you a locket for your birthday. A bit presumptuous, I know, but I had Feyre do a tiny portrait of myself to put in the locket. I also had a tiny piece of one of my siphons placed in the center so you could carry a piece of me everywhere.

“Your face lit up, but I was so nervous. I was trembling as I gave it to you. I almost dropped it when you asked me to clasp it around your neck. You hugged me so tightly, the locket pressing to my chest siphon and my siphon glowed.”

He smiles and reaches for your hand out of instinct, and you don’t pull away. When he notices what he’s done, he goes to retract his hand, but you clasp onto him harder.

“You had told me you would carry your loved ones in your pocket if you could and I got you the closest thing I could to that. I also had a shadow stay in the locket, they rotate who gets to be in the locket, but they like being close to you too. And in case of emergency they can slip out and find me.”

He pulls at the collar of his shirt, pulling out his own chain with a heart locket at the end. “You gave me one a week later. No siphon, but you used some of your light magic to embue a tiny stone so that it will glow forever.”

The locket looks so familiar, as if it was in a fairy tale you had read as a child. Your hand twitches, as if it wants to touch the locket. “You gave me the locket and when you saw it on my chest, your eyes lit up and I could feel you in my chest.”

You motion to a bench in the garden, and the two of you sit underneath a beautiful cherry blossom tree, its petals falling in the wind.

He moves his collar to tuck the necklace back in, pats it to his chest, then asks, “I’m guessing this is a lot to take in?”

You nod, “I mean it’s just been what five years? I have a hot mate that up until now he’s had no idea I’m hopelessly in love with him, the war is over, I missed Feyre and Rhys’s mating ceremony. It’s all sunshines and rainbows.”

He looks at you, “if it makes you feel better, they snuck out and did the ceremony in secret.”

He hears you grumble, “bastards” under your breath, making him chuckle.

“As for the hot mate who had no idea you were in love with him,” he pauses, watching your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, “he was the same way.”

You gape at him, hitting him on the shoulder, “don’t tell me things just to try to make me feel better!”

He laughs, “I’m not lying!”

You scoff, “You’ve spoken to me three times! One of those times you had asked me to move.”

He looks down, “okay maybe I wasn’t great at conveying it to you, but I thought about you constantly.”

You scoff again, thumping his chest, “you did not!”

“I did so!” He replies, just as childishly as you, “I spent so much of my energy trying to keep my shadows from harassing you at all hours. They kept pulling me, trying to coerce me into rooms you were in.”

He turns to look at you, your eyes a gateway to the before.

“I thought you were so pretty when you first showed up, I forgot how to breathe.”

Your cheeks heat as you look down at the ground, Azriel’s undivided attention being too much.

You look up at him, “okay, well if you were soooo in love with me, how come you refused to spar with me?”

You cross your arms over your chest, looking at the shadowsinger next to you, unable to believe that he’s your mate.

His wings flare ever so slightly, as he quietly tells you, “because being that close to you was too much.”

You look at him quizically, not quite getting what he’s referencing.

Azriel, for all his credit, is trying to be as coy as possible. The you from the present has an absolutely filthy mouth, the dirty talk between you two could strip paint off of walls. But this version of you? It feels wrong, violating almost. You’re not some innocent doe, far from it, but the way you two speak now was built on years of trust, a foundation that doesn’t exist for the version of you he’s looking at.

He sighs, coughing as he says, “I knew if I were to get that close to you, I’d have a hard time and I didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of you.”

You bring your hand up to your mouth, giggling. “Aww the big, scary shadowsinger is afraid he’ll get a hard on while sparring. Do you have these fears with anyone else? Cassian, perhaps?”

He laughs, the first genuine laugh since you woke up yesterday morning. “Can’t say I’ve ever had that concern with him.” He shakes his head, “but also Cassian isn’t a pretty female.”

You smile, “no, I guess not. He’s not pretty, not like you.” You clamp your mouth shut, despite knowing you’ve been seeing him for years. Parts of you know this, but other parts feel the newness, the uncertainty.

He smiles, looking at you through the side of his eye. “You think I’m pretty?” It’s a sentiment you’ve told him before, but this version of you thinking it too is fascinating.

“Oh yeah, prettiest male I’ve ever seen.” You blush, deciding to tell him everything, “I uh- I asked Mor to make sure I can always sit next to you when we go out.”

Your confession causes him to pause, something he never knew about you. “Oh?” He asks, curious about this new information.

“Yeah, once she even pushed Cassian out of a seat so I could make it in time.” You laugh, remembering the shock on his face as he laid on the ground and you quickly grabbed his seat. “I thought if I sat next to you, you’d uh- fall in love with me.” You rush out the last part, your voice going quiet.

“But uh, I actually told her to forget about it, just last night. Or whenever that was….” You trail off, remembering your current predicament.

But Azriel was stuck in the past, stuck on your latest admission. “Wait, why did you tell her to let it go?”

You sigh, picking up a dandelion out of the grass, “well, I’d try really hard to get you to notice me or talk to me, but you never did.” You pick at the petals of the flower. “I figured I was annoying you, or you hated that I was keeping other girls from being able to chat you up. So I told her to let it go.”

Azriel balks at your admission, having no idea the extent of his effect on you. “I had no idea how to talk to you! You were so pretty, especially whenever we were at Rita’s.” He sighs, remembering how he’d overanalyze how to reapond to you, only to never say anything.

“It wasn’t until… Cassian.” He pauses, trailing off. “Cassian what?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest at the slight breeze.

“Cassian told me he spent a lot of time trying to seat us next to each other, to get me to talk to you. I wonder if he… got the idea after talking to you last night about it.”

You shake your head, “no, I only told Mor that - no way he knows.”

Azriel looks at you, “And how is the biggest gossip and busybody you know?”

Your eyes widen, realization hitting you, “oh my god,” you whine. “He heard me! He heard how pathetic I am!”

Azriel rolls his eyes, but you continue, “I was so drunk! I kept talking about you - and how you smell, and your hands, and your legs, oh my god.”

Your cheeks flare in heat, and your voice drops to a whisper. “I told Mor I had a dirty dream about you the other day - in detail!”

He smirks, “and what were we doing in this dirty dream?”

Your cheeks flame tomato red, as he laughs at you. “I guarantee you, sweetheart, whatever it was, we’ve done dirtier.”

He’s always enjoyed making you flustered, but this is an opportunity to fluster past you, one he will not let go to waste.

“About that,” you start, a sheepish grin adorning the cherry red of your cheeks. “How is our sex life? Is it good?” You ask, your voice lowered.

He laughs, “we make Cassian look like a prude with the amount of sex we have.” You gasp, approval for this future version of yourself. He leans in close to your ear, and whispers, “genuinely the best sex of my life.”

You bite your lip, but he continues. “Our general rule is for every night I’m gone on a mission, when I come back I have to make you finish at least once per day I’m gone.”

He chuckles low, the memory coming to him so easily. “I was once gone for twelve nights.” He pulled back, looking into your eyes. “And yes, all in one night.”

Your eyes widen, and you take a quick glimpse down towards his crotch. He watches you check him out, a smile ghosting on his lips.

You spent several days like that, most of your time spent with Azriel. You asked him about your lives together - where you two lived, what your days looked like together, what your lives with the Inner Circle looked like.

“Have I been able to convince you to take a day off?” You ask, the two of you eating at your favorite cafe in Velaris. Rhys had encouraged you to explore the city, hopeful it’s constant changing is able to jog something in you.

He smiles at you, chewing his croissant. “Actually, yes.” He says after swallowing. “We actually took a vacation to Summer during this past winter.”

You gasp, your eyes widening in excitement. “I’ve always wanted to go to Summer! How was it? Did we see any mermaids?”

He chuckles, “no, much to your disappointment.”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Can’t believe I didn’t get to see a mermaid.”

He smiles at your childish antics, looking at your pouting face. He still couldn’t process it - this was you, but it wasn’t his mate. You weren’t taking a bite of his croissant for yourself, you weren’t touching his knee with yours, you weren’t making up terrible excuses to hold his hand in yours.

Looking at you was excruciating, questions plagueing his mind as he looked. Will you ever remember him? Your life together? The late nights, the early mornings, the small moments that made up your relationship?

Or were you destined to be this past version of yourself forever? Would you develop new habits? Would you even fall in love with him, this version of himself who knows everything about you?

“Did we have a mating ceremony?”

He’s jolted back to the present, his mind finding itself in the past that your mind resides in. He smiles, warmth flooding his heart at the meer mention of that day. He gazes at you, telling you all about it. How all of Velaris loved you so much the town was covered in flowers, much to Cassian’s annoyance.

“I was so nervous, the whole day my hands kept shaking. The minutes before I saw you it got so bad my wings started shaking.”

“Why were you nervous?”

He breathes in deeply, surprised that tidbit came out of his mouth. He had never told you how nervous he had been - he didn’t want you to misconstrue it as reservations about you or your relationship.

He exhales, looking at his empty plate. “Being so vulnerable so publicly, declaring for everyone to know that I am yours and you are mine, felt so… intimidating.”

He grabs a napkin and starts shredding it, an effort to keep his hands occupied to keep them from shaking like they did that day. The shadowsinger rarely showed such nerves, but he always allowed you to see past the cool exterior he usually wore. “I was so scared. No one has ever loved me as openly as you do. My brothers love me, Feyre, Nesta, Mor - they love me. Elain, the Valkyries. All of them love me, but you wear your love on your sleeve. It’s practically on your face.”

He laughs as your hands reach up to your face, as if there was some physical marking there conveying your deep love.

“I’ve never had that. It made me a little scared.”

Without meaning to your hand reaches out to his, halting his napkin shredding. It’s the first time you’ve touched him since you woke up five days ago, and it lights Azriel’s heart aglow. He hadn’t realized how much he had been needing your soothing touch, the one way to know you were here with him.

He doesn’t move, allowing you to process what you’ve done as you see fit. He expects you to pull your hand back, retreating back into yourself as you used to do in the early stages of your relationship.

Your hand stays on his, your eyes meeting his. Your thumb grazes over the scarred skin, as if you could soothe the injury from centuries ago with a delicate touch.

It is quiet between you two, the sounds of the other patrons filling his ears. The soft clinking of spoons on plates, the murmured chatter, the scraping of chairs against the floor.

You’re looking at him like you know him, like you remember it all. He feels his heart in his throat, hoping to hear those words from you. You open your mouth and tell him, “I’m sure I was nervous too.”

The moment is gone, you pull your hand away to stir your coffee once more. Suddenly the patrons are too loud, their conversations too idiotic, the smell of the coffee is overwhelming.

A few days later you wake up to an empty bed in a room you aren’t familiar with. It takes you a moment to remember that you’re in Azriel’s room.

Your room.

The room around you is proof that this wasn’t a dream, despite almost two weeks having passed since your memory was lost. You get up, your nightgown grazing your thighs as you take in the room. You walk in front of the bookshelves, fingers grazing the titles.

Azriel really likes detective novels, you think. You’re continuing through when you find some unmarked books. Opening them, you find your own handwriting back at you.

Entries dated 2 years into your future, 3 years in your past. You’re skimming through the journal, Cassian having done something to annoy you to write several paragraphs until you find a new paragraph.

“Azriel.

Azriel is my mate. My mate. He gave me a locket. We stood on the balcony, just watching the stars. He told me about how the stars led him through the depths of his childhood, and how he would spend most of his nights gazing at the moon, hoping, praying for better days.

“Did you find better days?” I had asked him, and he told me, “I found you, didn’t I?”

You shut the notebook, Azriel’s words invading your sense.

“I found you, didn’t I?”

You hear his voice and are transported back, back to that rooftop, back to that cool night where he laid everything bare for you. That cool night where he draped his wings over you to keep you warm, to keep you wrapped in his arms.

You two spent all night on that roof, talking, making out like two teenagers, staying until the sun began to rose and the citizens of Velaris began waking.

You can smell the scent of cedar and mist, a smell you recognize as Azriel. You can see the slight pink hue dusting his cheeks as you kissed his face, littering his cheeks with dozens of kisses.

It all comes flooding back to you as you drop your journal, racing out of your room. You take the stairs down, searching, needing to hold him.

Him.

Your precious mate.

The male who holds an infinite amount of patience for you.

You see him as you round the corner of the kitchen, launching yourself into his arms. He catches you with a soft oof as your legs wrap around his waist. He holds you there, breathing you in, and you whisper in his ear, “I found you, didn’t I?”

Azriel grip on you tightens, a soft sob escaping him as clutches you, holding you like the world could be collapsing around him and it wouldn’t matter.

“I would have done everything to make you fall in love with me again,” he tells you, kissing your cheeks, his tears mixing with yours.

“And I would have kept falling in love with you.” You grab his face, and kiss him, pouring everything into it and down the bond. He responds with his own love and adoration down the bond, his lips soft and delicate against yours as he does so.

You two hear a groan from the doorway, but don’t pull apart. “We make food in here!” Cassian groans, stepping past you two, “go somewhere else!” He picks up a piece of a cookie and throws it at you, hitting you in the forehead.

You grumble, turning to face him, your eyebrows knitted together and a scowl on your lips. Cassian gasps, “you remember!”

You jump off of Azriel and start running towards Cassian, throwing bits of cookie at him as he runs away, “I remember you telling my mate you wish it was your memories gone so you wouldn’t have to be reminded how annoying I am!”

You chase him around the house, threatening him as you do so, until Azriel reached an arm out, pulling you into his chest, and just holds you there.

[rainstormsdarling]

A COURT ACROSS SEAS AND STARS

Morrigan was Rhysand’s supermodel-esque cousin, Azriel the resident spymaster, and Cassian, like his brother, was an alpha-asshole, in the most delicious way possible. He seemed to have a dark sense of humor, strong opinions, and little interest in keeping either to himself.

“Well, well," Cassian had said after Rhys sauntered in with Feyre following closely behind. "Looks like Rhys finally brought a girl home for more than one night.”

Feyre flushed faintly, her attention snagging on the similarities between the males—and the differences too. Morrigan, the stunning blonde female in red, perched on a stool near the well-stocked bar, while the males lounged in low-backed chairs, which Feyre idly noticed had been fashioned to accommodate their powerful, membranous wings. The Illyrians were dark-haired, tan-skinned, their muscled bodies covered in dark serpentine leathers.

“You even look like brothers,” she said, turning to Rhys with a question in her gaze.

“All bastards are brothers of a sort.” Rhys said lowly, with a glare in Cassian’s direction, “And, I had no choice, did I Feyre darling?”

“Fuck you, Rhys” she replied.

Cassian roared a laugh, and Azriel’s eyebrows flicked up in amusement, even as he continued to scrutinise her. Shadows curled around the clear cobalt-blue stones adorning the back of his broad, brutally scarred, hands. Whatever caused those scars had to have been horrific if even his immortal blood hadn’t been able to heal them.

The mutual respect and affection that lay between the Illyrians was palpable, and while they were all sinisterly attractive, that was where the similarities ended. Where Rhys was every bit the elegant high lord; cruelly beautiful and unyielding, Cassian was rough-hewn and brash. Cocksure. Burning hot and little vicious. A lord in his own right. The Lord of Bloodshed, apparently, and the commander of Rhysand’s armies.

The spymaster, on the other hand, was near-unreadable. Classically handsome, but endlessly cold. If an assassin’s blade were made into a male, it would take the form of Azriel. Indeed, an obsidian-hilted dagger was sheathed at his thigh.

As Feyre studied them, a petite female entered the room, holding a glass of deep red liquid. At first glance, her appearance was almost ordinary: glossy black hair cut in a blunt bob, tan smooth skin. But her silver eyes, swirling like liquid mercury, hinted at something more than high-fae—something otherworldly.

The female’s gaze fixed on Feyre, and Feyre felt the suffocating, terrifying power radiating from her.

"So, there are two of us now," the female said, her lips stained red from whatever the glass held, which suspiciously looked like blood. "We, born of distant realms, thrust into new worlds, cast into new bodies."

Feyre swallowed hard, her heart pounding. She had heard stories about Amren, but nothing prepared her for the reality of the creature standing before her.

“And welcome to our merry little band” Rhys said with an exaggerated drawl, and an annoying sort of twinkle in his eye. “Everyone, meet darling Feyre. Feyre, meet my inner circle. I’m sure you’ll all get along splendidly, that is, once you stop your positively nebulous illuminations Amren.”

Amren just glared at Rhysand, neither one remotely intimidated by the other.

“I’d hug you, but I’m afraid I’d snap a tiny thing like you,” Cassian said, breaking the tension with an indolent grin.

Mor, of course, had no such reservations. Feyre allowed herself to be pulled into a luxurious hug that smelled like rich amber and vanilla perfume.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, for bringing him back” Morrigan was chanting as she squeezed Feyre tightly, her voice trembling with emotion.

Feyre didn’t move. What an odd evening it was turning out to be.

Morrigan squeezed once more and then pulled back, wiping a tear away. “And once I teach you how to dress in something other than healer’s garb, I think you’ll actually be quite lovely.”

Feyre sputtered.

“Now, sweetheart, don’t be rude,” Cassian said with an amused quirk of his lips.

Morrigan was elegant in the way only High-Fae nobility could be. She had exquisite features, her long, glossy blonde waves tumbling over her shoulders. A daring red dress draped over her lithe frame perfectly.

“I’m not being rude. That was a compliment,” Morrigan sniffed daintily.

Azriel coughed—or at least made a valiant attempt to disguise his laugh as one.

“Mor, I’ve heard your compliments before, and they need work.” Cassian said dryly.

“Feyre, you are a vision. Forget Mor, I can see why Rhysie here has hidden you away all these weeks”

“That’s exactly what I said!” Morrigan insisted, putting her hands on her hips.

“We all heard you, and that’s not what you said,” Cassian teased. He shot Feyre a wink. “She’s not just a pretty face either… Thanks for saving this bastard over here.” He jerked his head in Rhysand’s direction.

Azriel nodded to Feyre and sent her a quiet smile but didn’t embrace her, which she was grateful for.

Feyre honestly wasn’t sure what to do with herself. These people seemed friendly enough, but they weren’t exactly her friends either—not yet. They had been through hundreds of years of battles and wars, but now here they were, bickering and teasing each other like nothing had happened.

Before she had a chance to ponder the absurdity of her life in Prythian any further, the mood shifted slightly, and they made their way to the dining room - sans Rhys - who had abandoned her with them in search of more whiskey apparently. The cozy warmth of the elaborately carved stone fireplace was lit, the soft flickering of faelights—it should have been comforting. But a sense of tension hung in the air.

Morrigan picked at a platter of cheese and fruit as they settled in, but her smile faltered as Amren spoke abruptly.

“Why did you do it?” The raven-haired female asked curiously.

Morrigan jumped in before Feyre could answer. “Not that we don’t appreciate it of course, but… are you really that uncommonly kind-hearted? Is that a human trait us Fae just never learned?”

Feyre snorted, “Kind? No. Curious and stubborn? Yes.”

Cassian chuckled, “Now that sounds more like the humans I remember.”

Feyre rolled her shoulders, attempting to stretch the tired muscles for her long day in Velaris Infirmary. "He needed help, and besides it being heartless to just leave him... once I heard the start of his story, I had to know the rest."

“Well, for whatever reason you decided to come along with him, thank you. I know it wasn’t for us but still, we appreciate it more than you could know.” The sincerity in Morrigan’s voice was evident.

Feyre felt awkward with the intense stares she was receiving.

“Oh, stop ogling the girl. It’s time to celebrate Rhy’s freedom.” Amren snapped her fingers and flutes of sparkling fae-wine appeared.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Rhysand?” Feyre inquired.

“Oh assuredly, but I'll be honest, I need more alcohol to deal with the decidedly nauseating feelings that have overcome me.”

Feyre found herself in agreeance and graciously accepted the glass of sparkling fae-wine from Amren.

The bubbles tickled her nose as she finished the glass in one long sip.

“Cauldron's Tits, I didn’t know the humans could drink like that.” Cassian chuckled.

As a human she typically couldn’t, but she was fae now, not that she bothered to correct him.

“An overachieving prodigy in everything she does, I’ve heard from Madja.” Feyre smiled at the good-natured jest from Mor and accepted a refill. She knew she needed to slow down but wanted to enjoy the reprieve from heavy thoughts for a few moments longer. Warmth spread in her chest as she polished off the second glass almost as quickly.

“Who is?”

Feyre quickly looked up as Rhys stalked into the room, having somehow procured another two bottles of amber-liquid, one already a third empty.

“You know drinking so fast is a waste of good whiskey, it’s meant to be savoured.” The words slipped off Feyre’s tongue, tasting of sparkling wine.

He looked slightly surprised that she had reprimanded him for a moment, before drifting his eyes down to her own glass, now empty, and up again with a raised brow.

“I’m sure the Lord of the Court is good for it.”

Feyre couldn’t stop the dramatic sigh that left her mouth.

“If you get too inebriated and lose your balance I won’t be patching your wounds. You’re already causing too much work for me, Rhysand.”

“Am I to believe that my darling Feyre is a lush and lightweight?”

She shook her head slightly, feeling her long braid swish against the back of her neck “I’m neither a lightweight nor a lush, thank you very much. We are celebrating your release from 49 years of captivity, are we not?”

“And your presence here in our world?” said Rhys, tilting his glass into hers.

Feyre let out another long sigh, this time tiredly.

“No. Let’s not talk about that right now. I really don’t want to talk or think about that right now.”

Rhysand stared at her for a moment. His jaw clenched as if he was holding back something he didn’t want to say but he gave a firm nod and looked away.

Feyre’s heart ached slightly at the look that had been on Rhysand’s face and she didn’t know why. If she hadn’t had that second glass perhaps she could have figured it out, but for a brief moment, she could have sworn she saw something like regret.

He showed almost no signs of inebriation. His words were unslurred and his eyes were endlessly cold as ever. She had never seen anyone drink so much alcohol and remain so outwardly unaffected.

It was terrifying how controlled he was.

She decided that was enough sparkling wine for now.

Watching from her plush dining chair, she observed as the friends with a winding history reunited once more after almost fifty long years. Cassian and Mor bickered good-naturedly over the best vintage of fae-wine. Azriel and Amren traded thinly veiled insults over an overly complicated game of cards.

Feyre sat, playing the role of a spectator. It was bizarre. Their friend and High Lord had just recently escaped Amrantha’s tyrannical rule Under the Mountain and they happily chatted as if it was an ordinary Friday evening in winter.

After another hour of surface-level small talk, Feyre decided to take her leave for bed, with idle promises to have lunch date in the Palace of Thread and Jewels with Mor and visit the training grounds at the House of Wind with the Illyrians.

—

“You think others will be looking for her? Our enemies?”

With her new-found fae hearing the murmured voices traversed the stillness of the townhouse as Feyre paused in her ascension of the stairs.

“And Hybern’s,” Azriel added quietly, and Feyre felt her stomach twist.

“Because of Amarantha? Yes,” Rhysand said in a low voice. “Anyone who sided with her and managed to get out of that mountain alive will be looking for Feyre. If they’ve allied with Hybern, it’s almost a guarantee.”

Cassian’s jovial tone from earlier in the evening was gone and replaced with the seriousness of the Night Court’s General. “We’ll take care of her. We’ll strategise. No one’s getting through us.”

“And Hybern? You know they won’t take this blow lying down.”

Rhysand’s voice was quiet, but the steel in it was unmistakable. “They won’t. The King will not take kindly to Amarantha’s death, nor Prythian’s escape from her clutches.”

Feyre’s breath hitched as silence from the room below stretched longer. It had only been a matter of time before Amarantha re-entered the conversation, but the reminder of the potential threat caused her usually steady hands to tremble. Hazy images of fire and brimstone flashed in her mind. They were free now, but for how long?

Azriel’s voice abruptly cut through the silence. “Do we trust her? With Velaris? With the knowledge of this city?”

Rhysand’s response was immediate, unwavering. “Yes. She’s here, isn’t she? It’s a bit late for the alternative - short of going into her mind and wiping her memories”

Amren, sitting silently for much of the conversation, spoke then, her voice low and cool. “This is not an insignificant concern, Rhysand.”

“One that hasn’t been made without a great deal of consideration, Amren.”

Feyre could feel the weight of silence, almost tangible as stretched out with agonising slowness. She waited with bated breath for Rhysand to materialise before her, taking her memories from her as he pleased.

“I trust her,” he said, his voice firm. “And so will you.”

notes:

Chapter 15 - entire work available on AO3, but let me know if you would like me to continue - I have major writers block eek - and any and all feedback and comments just mean so much xx

[westrangecollectionkoalaposts]

If there wasn't a suicide pact, r/hysand wouldn't even have bothered to ask helion if there is something that can be done about feyre's pregnancy

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Dreamers | Rhysand & Daughter!Reader

Summary: After Madja is away in business for two months, he has to find a healer to replace her in her absence, which happens to be you, his bastard daughter, and unbeknownst to him, Azriel’s mate.

Word Count: ~ 2.3k

Warnings: Angst, bad family relationship, mentions of prostitution, implied sex, but it ends happy don’t worry (PLATONIC BETWEEN RHYS AND READER)

A/N: This request was like perfectly matching up with my daydreams so thanks !! hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Throughout all your years of education and schooling, there was one truth you knew without having to be told.

You were unwanted. A mistake.

You’d always known that and hadn’t cared much for the first few years of your life. Your mother had been a prostitute, and your father had accidentally knocked her up. Whether it had been a mistake, or your mother had purposefully not used a contraceptive just to have a tie to the High Lord was still in debate, but you didn’t care much anymore.

He had tried to raise you, probably not wanting you to grow up a whore like your mother, but been trapped Under the Mountain, leaving you alone, your only real ties to him were through Cassian, who didn’t seem to care that you were a bastard child or your circumstances.

He felt like more of a father, sometimes.

You’d gotten your apartment in Velaris, working as an herbalist, and something of a medic, using the mingled magic of your mother and father to heal people. Some would say the job didn’t match your sometimes uncaring and blunt, even bitter demeanor. But you didn’t care what they said, and you never had. It paid the bills, and let you live relatively comfortably in your little shop when not in the apartment.

You had heard the rumors of Feyre, the Cursebreaker who’d freed your father, and by extension all the other High Lords from Under the Mountain. You’d seen the female and your father together, walking the streets happy as could be together, openly proclaiming their love, not to mention their baby.

After he’d been liberated, you hadn’t tried to seek him out, and he hadn’t with you. It was for the best, probably. You wanted nothing to do with his perfect little happy family and Inner Circle, you didn’t belong there, and you had no desire to. You hadn’t needed a father to grow up, and you didn’t need one now.

However, Madja was away on business, leaving you as the only other healer in Velaris capable of giving checkups to their child. It was for that reason, you suspected, that he invited you to a “family” dinner as if he’d ever treated you like family.

“It’ll be alright.”

Your mate, Azriel, spoke to you as he got ready to escort you into the House of Wind, where they wanted to have dinner that night. You hadn’t bothered to dress up nice or fancy, only donning some loose pants and a shirt, clothes you would usually work in.

Azriel had been your mate for nearly three years, having secretly accepted the bond, and decided to keep the relationship private for now, to let things settle down for now, and now had stretched into one year after another, until you were both content to live in the shadows.

“You know how I feel about them.”

You replied, sighing before quickly composing yourself at the clear mix of emotions on his face. His urge to defend his family and to empathize with you warring with each other in his mind.

You stepped forward, settling into his arms as you felt the shadows wrap around you, the environment shifting as your eyes remained open, and then you were there, the door to the House of Wind standing right in front of you. It felt wrong, to come back here after completely cutting off contact, only to be used for your healing abilities and medical knowledge for a half-sibling you’d never met.

Glancing over at Azriel, he gave a little nod, and you opened the door, setting foot inside the home and immediately confronted with the scents of multiple people. You could recognize some, Mor, Rhys, Cassian, maybe Amren? Only Feyre, Rhys, and Cassian were seated at the table, waiting for you. You’d heard news that Mor was visiting her private estate, and Amren off god knows where.

Expression as ticked off and blunt as you were feeling, you walked in, taking a seat as a plate of food magically appeared in front of you.

Rhys’ gaze ran up and down you, noting your clothes, simple cheap ones to get the job done, the herbs caked under your long nails, the calluses on your hands from handling your mortar and pestle so often, the way you didn’t smile at him or any of his family, or the same impassive and slightly annoyed look on your face. Something briefly appeared in his gaze, before being gone just as easily. Good. You had enough to deal with without any family problems.

“Hello, Y/N, I’d like you to meet -“

He spoke, voice sounding as confident as usual, but with a hint of a crack, as if testing the waters as he gestured towards Feyre.

“Your mate and son. I’m well aware.”

Your voice wasn’t like his, not with the silver tongue he had, tone blunt and straightforward. You didn’t refer to them by name on purpose, to make it seem like you hadn’t even cared to follow the news about him and his life. Like you were better. Feyre cast a sympathetic glance at Rhys, one that made your temper flare.

He shouldn’t get to be comforted for his past mistakes coming to bite him in the ass.

Cassian remained silent, exchanging glances with Azriel across the table. This was bound to happen eventually, and the General didn’t try any of his usual tactics to lighten the mood.

Rhys swallowed, opening his mouth to speak, probably to try and soothe you or make you less openly hostile, but you interrupted him.

“What do you want?”

You asked, tone blunt and cold, detached almost if it weren’t for the anger you held against him. He tried to hide his wince but failed to do it completely. That made you feel a bit better, at least. A sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. His expression sobered into one of resigned seriousness.

“Our healer, Madja, will be away on business for two months. You’re the most qualified to take her place if you would.”

He said. Feyre seemed a bit uncomfortable with the thought of you being the personal healer for their family for two months, and you didn’t blame her, considering your demeanor and history, but it still pissed you off.

“How much will you pay?”

You asked blandly, making it clear that the job meant nothing to you to get closer to them at all. All that mattered was the pay. Your mind was already calculating the costs, advantages, and disadvantages of taking the deal. He stiffened slightly, another small victory.

He stated a price, it was high, ridiculously so, in fact, but you weren’t complaining. Money was money. Even if you got it from your half-family.

“Sure.”

You said simply, still not touching your dinner. The food was tantalizing, but the thought of sending a message even more so. You wouldn’t dine at this table, not like how you had done so many years ago. Though your throat was parched, you didn’t touch the glass of water.

“Is that all?”

You asked, your mint green eyes, the same shade as your mother’s, meeting his violet gaze. Pure indifference was all you were determined to give him. After he’d forgotten about you, too obsessed with his mate and new child, the replacements, to bother with you.

“I was hoping you’d stay for dinner.”

He said quietly, a hint of pleading in his gaze. You felt a pang in your chest at that but shoved it down as you got up from your seat, not tucking it in. They could look at the seat pushed out after you left, and think about you. It would hopefully plague his mind like he plagued yours.

“Keep hoping. See where it gets you.”

You said dryly, walking out of the kitchen, out of that goddamned sentient House that remembered you even now, how it knew your favorite food, just the way you knew your mother had cooked it so long ago, or the way you’d loved the water from that river out back, one you still visited now.

You heard the harsh scratching of a chair against the wooden floor and footsteps, and before you could winnow away, you found that you couldn’t move.

Not metaphorically or rhetorically, you literally could not move your own body, and that’s when you became all too aware of the presence in your mind when your barriers had slipped because of your irritation. Your father finally released you as he stood behind you, you whirled to look at him, seething.

“Stay out of my head.”

You hissed, shoving him away from you even as he gave you a begging gaze.

“Please, I’m sorry, let me try, just give me one chance to be your father, one?”

He begged, voice cracking with desperation you’d never seen before, and it would’ve weirded you out a little if you weren’t frozen in place, throat even dryer now as you tried to think of something to say.

Despite how you denied it and wanted to be cold and vengeful towards him, deep down, that wasn’t what you wanted. Maybe a relationship with him wouldn’t be so bad. It wasn’t like he’d had a choice to leave you behind, he’d been kidnapped Under the Mountain, and been so busy putting his Court back together and handling a war that he hadn’t even been able to think about you.

You swallowed, sighing and giving a resigned nod.

“Just..meet me for breakfast tomorrow, I guess. At my apartment. It’s down the block to the right of Rita’s, you’ll know it when you see it.”

As soon as you said it, he pulled you into a gentle hug, feeling you stiffening under his touch. You weren’t the most touchy person with strangers, or people you didn’t know very well at that.

Breakfast tomorrow. Great.

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

Az had already been late when he’d arrived at your apartment for the moment, his tedious little schedule for the recent mission already thrown off because of the extra time he’d taken bending you over a counter. Just as he gave you a little kiss on the cheek, opening the door to head out, he ran face-first into Rhys, the only thing stopping the two from kissing being the subtle height advantage Azriel had over his High Lord.

“What -“

Rhys began, and Azriel was gone quicker than you’d ever seen his shadows transport him. You dragged your father in, closing the door behind you.

“He’s my mate and has been for three years, but anyways, breakfast.”

You blurted in a rushed tone as you tried to ignore the obvious thing that had just happened. Rhys ran a hand through his dark hair and sighed, seeming exasperated but not surprised.

“I thought so, Cassian said he’s been coming home smelling like you lately.”

He muttered under his breath as you slipped an oven mitt on, pulling a muffin sheet out of the oven and hissing as the oven brushed against your arm, leaving an angry little red spot. Your father’s eyebrows raised at that, and he walked over and turned your sink to a lukewarm temperature, grabbing you and easily moving you over to it to run the burn under it. Protective instincts were probably already kicking in for him, albeit a bit dusty and not used for anyone other than his new son.

He grabbed a roll of bandaging that was on your counter, from the other night when you’d also accidentally burned yourself while trying to open the oven with your bare feet, hands too busy. The oven-related incidents were getting a bit too often, now. Especially since Azriel threatened to throw the oven out if you didn’t stop getting hurt.

“Thanks.”

You managed to mumble as his slender fingers skillfully wrapped some of it around you, securing it easily. He gave a little nod, slipping an oven mitt on and dumping the muffins out, just shoving them all onto one plate he set on the small table with two chairs, one for you and Az.

He sat down, you sitting across from him, grabbing a muffin and unwrapping it, before just awkwardly eating in silence.

“So..”

You said, swallowing as you tried to think about how weird this conversation would be. He sighed, running his hands through his hair again. It seemed to be a nervous habit of his.

“I’m sorry, for not being there. There was just so much going on, with the war, Amarantha, not to mention Koschei…”

His voice trailed off at the mention of them.

“I..get it. You were busy with all that.”

“I still should’ve been there. You’re my daughter, and you grew up without a father because of me.”

You swallowed, trying to bite back the emotions that rose because of this conversation. He seemed to notice, violet eyes softening as his chair scooted a bit closer to yours, wanting to comfort you but unsure how to do so without further upsetting you. You suddenly felt bad for all your remarks and attitude earlier. He’d been trying, you hadn’t.

“We can start over if you want. Just father and daughter?”

You nodded, sniffling slightly. At that tiny sniffle, he couldn’t resist anymore, getting up and pulling you into his arms. This time, you didn’t stiffen, didn’t struggle, or try to pull away, you just cried into his chest in a way you usually only could do with Az. He held you close, hand soothingly rubbing your back.

“I think I’d like that.”

You managed to choke out as the tears dried up, and you looked up into his violet eyes, now noticing the golden flecks in them, like stars you could wish on.

Stars promising hope and a future of warmth and acceptance.

Tags:

@judeduartewannbe

[mcuamerica]

Loving Flames | Part Two

Pairing: Eris x Reader

Summary: You leave Under the Mountain, going back to the Night Court... but there's a certain red head that still plagues your mind Requested by anon here.

Warnings: 18+ only, canon level violence, alludes to SA, Rhys is an asshole in this, a bit of angsty fluff and a lot of angst, slight claustrophobia, PTSD, (not proofread), let me know if anything was forgotten...

Word Count: 4k

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

Dividers from @saradika

Part One

You were in that room for the next 8 years, only going out when Amarantha commanded you to watch the tortures she knew you’d be tormented by the most. The faeries that had wings. Children. Families. You stood by Eris’s side, forced to watch as you clung to his arm. Your nails dug into his biceps so often when she was the most brutal that he had small scars there.

And his back, now. When he came back to the room from the healer that night, his entire back and chest was bandaged.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” He said to you when he found you with tears in your eyes, sitting on the bed.

“I couldn’t let her hurt you anymore. Not when it wasn’t your fault.” You said.

“She could still hurt you. She could command you out and force you to be whipped.” He said.

“I’d rather me than you.” You whispered, your knees tight to your chest.

“I wouldn’t.” He whispered. “I won’t be able to stand back and watch if she hurts you.” He said.

“Then kill her.” You simply stated, your eyes unfocused on the rug beneath the bed. “She can’t hurt you. Can’t have anyone else hurt you. Kill her and the threat ends.” You said.

Eris swore, ensuring the door was shut. He walked over to you, kneeling at your side. You felt him take your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look at him. “You can’t say things like that out loud… you have to be careful.” He said. “I won’t let her hurt you… and I promise to get you out of this room one day.”

Eris wasn’t able to keep that promise. Not until Feyre came along. But, with the tensions between the Autumn and the Spring Court, he didn’t help her at all. And you were confined to your room for all of it other than Feyre’s trials.

When Amarantha finally died, thanks to Tamlin, you felt your tattoo dissolve against your skin. You nearly collapsed on the ground at the thought of leaving this gods-forsaken mountain. Of never seeing it again. Of never being trapped in a bedroom again, or any room. Of feeling the wind against your skin.

But that meant leaving Eris. Once Rhys told you when you would leave, you went to the room. Your prison and sanctuary for so long. “Eris.” You whispered.

He turned around from where he stood before the dresser, contemplating if he wanted to burn the clothing. “I thought you’d be gone by now.” He said.

“I can’t leave without saying goodbye.” You said, nervously playing with your fingers. “I’m going to miss you…” you whispered, silver lining your eyes.

Eris looked at you again, immediately before you. He took your cheeks in his hands. “Don’t do that.” He whispered. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying. I don’t want to go to the Night Court if it means I can’t be with you.” You whispered. “You were the best thing about this Mountain. The only thing that kept me sane.” You said, tears falling from your eyes.

Eris, tears welled in his own eyes, shook his head. “You will go to the Night Court. And if the Autumn Court ever needs an emissary, you will always be welcome.” He whispered. “You will live a good, happy life. One you don’t want me in.” He said.

“But I do.” You whispered. “I need you in my life, Er.” You said louder.

“Then come find me once you’re settled. You’ll be welcomed. But if for one moment you resent what you went through down here, if you resent me for what I did, please… spend your time with your family. In your home.” Away from his family. Away from the cruelty you would endure under his father. Especially if he knew you were mates.

You sniffed, wrapping your arms around his neck as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. "Thank you. For everything." You whispered, holding onto him tight. He held onto you like his life depended on it. This may very be the last time Rhys lets him see you. And he would remember the moment for the rest of his life.

You finally pulled away, wiping at the tears in your eyes. "I'll come back for you, Eris Vanserra." You said to him, cupping his cheek.

"And I'll never forget you, Princess." He said.

You let out a watery laugh before letting go over him, taking a few steps back before you turned around and left to the upper levels of the mountain. Where you would go home with Rhys. You knew in your heart, in your soul, that you would see Eris again. And not just for courtly activities, but as friends. And maybe... if you found the strength.. more.

You stayed in the Night Court, in Velaris, for four years. Meeting with Eris only for court purposes. And even then, Azriel, Cassian, or Rhys would be by your side, leading you away from them. No matter how much you tried to convince Rhys, and the others, that Eris never harmed you Under the Mountain, no one believed you. Expect for Mor, surprisingly. She was pretty easy to convince he did nothing to you, never laid a hand on you to harm you.

You were serving as the ever dotting Princess of the Night Court when the events with Feyre and her sisters happened. While each one of them tackled a challenge of her own, and ended up with their mates. Everyone was happy... You had a nephew and a family that adored you. And yet something was still missing.

You secretly wrote to Eris every week, it becoming your favorite time when one of his letter's would appear next on your nightstand. They became increasingly intimate, but never crossed the line of love.

One day, just a few months after Elain and Lucien's wedding/mating ceremony, Rhys said the Court would be meeting with Eris at the House of Wind. And while you were to stay in your old bedroom up there, you were not allowed to see him.

"Rhys, I'm not a child." You said, crossing your arms. "I'm the Princess of the Night Court. I should be there when you plot with our allies."

"Eris is not our ally... we have a tentative agreement with him." Rhys countered.

"That's the definition of an ally." You retorted. "And besides, I know him better than you all."

"You know him from the time he held you captive-"

"The time Amarantha held me captive," You corrected.

Rhys ignored you, continuing on, "You are biased."

You took a deep breath. "I will not be kept from this courts happenings because you believe me to be fragile. And I am certain Feyre will not agree with you locking me up in my room while you talk with the Heir to the Autumn Court." You said.

Rhys narrowed his eyes, but caved and said he would allow you to be present. Only if Azriel stayed by your side the entire night. You agreed, as Azriel was one of your closest friends and hadn't been as protective as the rest of them when it came to Eris. Maybe it's because his shadows detected you were telling the truth. Maybe they were keeping an eye on you all Under the Mountain for all those years. But either way, you didn't argue with having Azriel by your side.

Taking a deep breath, you smoothed down the loose pants and tight fitting shirt you had on. Your flats matched the attire perfectly, incorporating Night Court black with Autumn Court red. You even did your makeup and hair a little bit more like the Autumn Court style. You hadn't seen Eris since the war with Hybern two years ago. While you kept contact with him, you were excited to see him.

You walked out to the main sitting area where the meeting would be held. Eris was standing there, in an Autumn green tunic and tight fitting pants. His red hair was tousled slightly, and shorter than the last time you saw it. Lucien was next to him, and the rest of your family was scattered around the room.

As Eris turned to you and gave you that smile you missed so much, a string snapped on your gut. Your eyes widened slightly as you felt the bond become even stronger than before. He must have noticed, because you saw his breath hitch.

“Eris,” you whispered, tears brimming your eyes. “It’s good to see you.” You blinked a few times, taking a deep breath to keep your composure. If you and Eris showed any affection here, Rhys would probably throw Eris off the balcony.

“You too, princess.” He said it just above a whisper.

The rest of the room looked between the two of you, all of the tension in the room because of you.

“Come on,” Azriel said, causing you to flinch at his un expected touch. “Let’s sit down.” He whispered and then walked you over to the couch. You kept your eyes on Eris, heart beating out of your chest. To the rest of them, they probably thought you were terrified to see him. Even if you had been completely fine with seeing him in the past.

Rhys walked in with Feyre, narrowing his eyes as he saw Eris staring at you. And you staring back. But you were sat next to Azriel, Eris on the other side of the room, so he let it go. “Okay, let’s talk about how you’re planning to kill your father.” He said.

“Thank you for your warm welcome into your home.” Eris said, voice dripping with sarcasm as he finally tore his eyes from you and looked to your brother.

“My home.” Nesta corrected. The House of Wind was her and Cassian’s now. Azriel was in the Town Home with Gywn and you stayed with Feyre and Rhys in the River House.

“You truly have a plan to kill your father?” Lucien said. Your father. As he recently learned Helion was his dad and not Beron.

“Yes, it’s been in the works for sometime. And Autumn is in a good position right now for a take over.” He said, leaning back in the single chair he was in.

Cauldron, he looked magnificent. He had bulked up more, his biceps threatening to tear the undershirt he wore. You wouldn’t put it past him to wear a tighter shirt to show off. Or was it to impress you? Either way, you couldn’t help but admire him. The way his hair fell onto his forehead, even though it should’ve been slicked back. How the pants fit his thighs just right. And gods, the way that smirk played on his tips as he talked about his plans. He was happy to kill his father. He was doing it for you, though you didn’t know it.

You barely heard a word of what they said as you watched Eris. Your eyes never left him. To the others, again, it looked as if you were scared. But as Azriel glanced between the two of you, and caught some stolen looks from Eris to you, he knew it wasn’t fear that was keeping you quiet. It was affection. You couldn’t think of what to say, so you sat quietly and listened. Or, Azriel thought you were listening. You were just admiring your mate.

Eris was your mate. And you couldn’t wrap your head around it. He must have known… and not told you because of the tensions between Autumn and a Night. But still, how long had he known? Did he know when you were Under the Mountain? Before? Is that the only reason he was kind to you?

Thoughts raked your brain as you spiraled down into your mind, and Azriel was the first to notice your short breathing. “(Y/N)?” Azriel whispered.

You looked up to him, finally breaking your stare from your mate. “Do you want to leave?” He asked.

You shook your head, leaning back in the love seat as you finally started to listen to what they had to say.

Eris would kill his father within the week. And he was requesting help from the Night Court to help him do it. It would be by poison, at an Autumn ball in three days. That each Night Court member would be at. And everyone would play their part.

So, as you listened to the plan, you couldn’t help but wonder what this would mean for you. Would Eris want you to be his mate if he was High Lord? He certainly didn’t say anything to you… maybe he was just being nice because mates shouldn’t hurt each other. Maybe he doesn’t want anything to do with you.

You blinked as everyone stood up, and Rhys shook Eris’s hand tentatively. He whispered a ‘if you betray us, you die’ that wasn’t even a whisper, everyone heard it. And then Rhys walked out. You glanced to Azriel as everyone else walked out besides Eris.

“Az… can you give us a moment?” You asked quietly. Azriel looked between you and Eris skeptically. You noticed as his ears perked and his eyes widened slightly as his shadows told him something.

He gave a slight nod. “I’ll be right outside.” He said before turning around to leave. Once he was out of the room, you ran over to Eris. You slung your arms around his neck as he pulled you close to his chest, his arms around your waist in an instant.

“I’ve missed you.” You whispered against his neck.

You felt him smile against the top of your head, pressing a soft kiss there. “Me too, princess.” He whispered.

“How long have you known?” You asked as you pulled away. “About the bond?” Your voice was shaking, your eyes hoping for a good explanation.

“Since before your mother died… your first introduction to the Courts with your father. It snapped for me the moment I saw you.” He said and cupped your cheek when you pulled away. “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew we couldn’t be together. Your father would never allow it. Your brother certainly wouldn’t.” He said.

“You didn’t think to tell me Under the Mountain?” You asked. You weren’t hurt about his secrecy, surprisingly. He had been protecting you for years. How could you be mad at him?

“I did… I wanted to so many times. But I didn’t want to force it on you down there. Or make it seem like I was trying to win you over. I just wanted you safe. And if Amarantha knew you were my mate, she might have done something to hurt you…” He said.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see it until now.” You said, leaning your forehead against his.

“I don’t want anyone to know. Not until my father is dead and he has no chance of using you against me.” Eris whispered.

“I want to accept it.” You whispered. “As soon as we’re both safe.” You told him, searching his eyes.

Neither of you had been remotely intimate. Hugging and sharing a bed was the extent to how you interacted Under the Mountain and after too. But now, you wanted to do everything with him. Wanted to kiss him, feel his warm lips on yours. You wanted him inside you, his flaming body against yours as you connected in a way no one else could. You wanted him to be your mate, officially. You wanted everything with him. Including children. A kingdom to rule, if he’d have you as his Lady.

Eris’s face at your words softened even more, tears lining his eyes. “Soon, I promise. But we will wait until after my father dies.” He said. “And when I am High Lord, we will accept it in whatever way you want. A large ceremony. A small one. You could give me a tree nut and I would be happy.” He said. “As long as I can be with you.”

“I don’t care. I just want to be your mate.” You told him.

“I’m glad we agree.”

After that week, and after the ball where Eris's father "unexpectedly" died from a heart problem, Beron's powers were passed to Eris. And now, the heir of the Autumn Court was no more, instead, he was the High Lord of Autumn. Your mate.

While you wanted to immediately mate him, Eris wanted to establish his court before announcing his Lady of Autumn. So, you needed to distract yourself. And it happened that Tarquin invited you to the Summer Court to help strategize their rebuilding of the city. In reality, you were going for a vacation to relax. And distract yourself.

So, as you were packing your bag, Rhys knocked on the door.

You turned, giving your brother a small smile.

"You sure you want to leave?" He asked you.

"Yes, I can't wait to lay on the beach and relax for two weeks." You said happily.

"I'm sure it's been hard for you this past week," he said.

“Why?” You asked, zipping up your bag before turning towards him.

“Because… of having to be around Eris.” Rhys said, as if it were obvious. Though, while it was hard being around Eris, he thought it was because of how Eris hurt you. For you, it was hard because you wanted to tell the world about your mate. And you couldn’t.

“It wasn’t, not for the reason you’re implying.” You said. “I like spending time with Eris. And I’ve told you countless times before, he never hurt me.” You said.

“He locked you away in a room.” He said.

“Amarantha locked me away in a room.” You said.

“Because of Eris. Because he was trying to get you outside.”

“Because of her. Not Eris. He was being whipped and I made a decision to not let him suffer.”

“Why?” Rhys demanded. “Why make yourself a prisoner for him? Why not let him bleed? He’s not a good male.”

“He is!” You said. “You see what you want to, Rhys. You can assume all you want to but I spent 50 years with him. He never once touched me without asking. Never once crossed a line. And he didn’t even do it because he was scared of you. He did it because he respects me. And he cares for me.” You said.

“Why would he? When you’re the sister of his enemy? He wouldn’t do anything if it wasn’t for his benefit?” He asked.

You took a deep breath. “He’s not as selfish as he seems, Rhys.” You said, crossing your arms. “Why did you help Feyre when she was the betrothed to your enemy?” You asked.

“That’s different. Feyre is my mate.”

You paused for a moment, trying to choose your words carefully. “But no matter how cruel of a male you seemed to the outside, you were always kind to her… other than making her drink on faerie wine and parading her around at night.” You said. “Eris never did that to me…”

“He still kept you with him all those years. He could’ve given you away, let you stay with me. He could’ve-“

“He was protecting me.” You simply stated.

“Why?”

“Because I’m his mate!” You yelled. You knew you were screwed the moment the words left your mouth. Why did you just say that?

Rhys blinked. The only way he showed his shocked. “No, he isn’t.” He said.

“Yes he is. The bond snapped for me last week.” You said. “Before he was High Lord.”

“He’s tricked you. You can’t be his mate.” He said.

“My walls are stronger than yours, Rhysand. He couldn’t trick me if he wanted to. I am his mate. And he is mine. And he took care of me when no one else did.” You said, holding your head high. “As soon as I get back from Summer, I am going to Autumn and offering him food.” You said.

“And what? Leave your home? For that family? For him?” Rhys growled.

“For my mate. For the male that protected me and helped me and kept me sane for 50 years. For him, the male I love.” You said.

“No,” Rhys said, shaking his head. “He isn’t your mate. He must have tricked you… you won’t be going to Autumn.” He said.

You rose your eyebrows. “And how are you going to stop me?” You asked.

“I won’t let you leave.” He said.

“What are you going to do? Restrict me to the Night Court?” You asked. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“Why?”

“To protect you.”

“That’s not protection, Rhys. That’s imprisonment.” You said, searching his eyes. It occurred to you then that he might not be kidding. Rhys was notoriously protective of you. And he would go to far lengths to keep you from harm in his mind.

“You won’t leave this room, (Y/N), unless you promise you won’t go to Autumn.” He said.

“I won’t promise that. I’m not going to stay away from my mate.” You said. “And you can’t keep me here.”

“I will.” He said, taking a step out of your room.

“And what are you going to do? Block my path all night?” You asked, seething.

“No. There are wards around your room now. If you try to leave, you’ll see what happens.” He said.

Your eyes widened at the thought of being trapped in a room. “What?” You asked, your voice cracking.

“Unless you agree to never accept the bond with Eris, you’ll be in this room. And the wards won’t let anyone else but me in and out.” He said.

Your breathing started to quicken, walking towards the door but stopping right in front of it. “Rhys, do not lock me in this room.” You said, tears brimming your version.

“Do you promise to not go to Autumn? To not mate with Eris?” He asked.

“No.” You said quietly.

“You’re meant to be gone for two weeks. I’ll come back then to see if you’ve changed your mind.” He said.

“Rhys, please.” You begged, stepping forward again. You watched as he walked away, your breath catching in your throat.

“Rhys!” You yelled, taking a step to leave the room but coming in contact with a clear hard wall. “Rhys!” You sobbed, backing on the invisible door. You took a step back, trying to find your breath. “Rhysand!” You yelled again, only for your door to slam shut in front of you.

You fell to the floor, banging on the door. “Rhys!” You begged again, leaning your forehead against the. Your vision blurred, the walls closing in on you. Suddenly, you were back Under the Mountain. Trapped in that room with no wind or no windows. Eris healing from his wounds.

Your sobbed shook your body as you tried to breath. You closed your eyes as you sunk to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest.

"Rhysand!" You let out a scream, so primal and raw that your throat strained.

You continued shaking, sobbing, hyperventilating as you rock yourself back and forth. You tried to convince yourself you were safe. You weren't hurt. But you couldn't leave. Couldn't get out of this room if you tried. You couldn't see your mate.

Your sobs overtook your breaths as you lost focus, shaking at the feeling of desperation. You were trapped in this room. You couldn't get out. Wouldn't get out unless you promised something terrible to your brother. Your brother who you thought loved you. But someone who loved you wouldn't do this. They wouldn't trap you in a room after what happened Under the Mountain. What would Feyre do when she found out about this? Would Rhys keep you here longer than 2 weeks? Would you be trapped here forever.

The walls continued closing in on you as your mind spiraled deeper and deeper. When you had the strength to open your eyes, the room was dark. Your powers couldn't get you out, but they consumed you. The darkness wasn't welcomed though. It only made your breath quicken more. No light. No windows. No Eris.

How would you live like this?

Part Three

A/N: GODS this was a good one to write... can you imagine what Eris is going to do when he finds out what Rhys did????

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Tagging (thank you for all your lovely comments, they fuel my writing for the better every day): @96jnie @rcarbo1 @circe143 @bookwormysblog @stuff-i-found-while-crying @acourtofbatboydreams @glitterypirateduck @optimistic-but-very-realistic @minaethrym @herondale-lightworm @saltedcoffeescotch @faridathefairy @alliex-o @mariahoedt @falszywe @d3ad-ins1de @anyzandy @mulledwinetea @myromanempiree @ysmtttty @dumblani @brighterthanlonelythoughts @micaxrocky @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @windblownwinston @the-golden-jhope @alittlelostalittlefound @homeslices @todaystheday @quackquackhun @Kayhud05 @forgiveliv

[parkerslatte]

Drawn To You

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: none.

Summary: When Y/N met Azriel, she felt the mating bond snap into place. The only issue is that he seems happy with Elain so Y/N tries her best to stay out of his way no matter how much it hurts her.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

The moment Y/N met Azriel, she felt it. The feeling she had wanted to feel for a long time. In her nearly six hundred years of living, Y/N had given up the hope that she would ever meet her mate. She probably didn’t even have one, and she had come to accept that. Until the shadowsinger appeared. 

After seeking her out to help heal the general, Rhysand had called on Y/N whenever Madja was unavailable. At first Y/N hadn’t minded, she enjoyed being around everyone as they slowly began to invite her on nights out. Y/N felt herself becoming friends with them, or as close to friends as she could. 

It wasn’t until one night when the shadowsinger appeared from a long mission that Y/N felt it. 

***

Y/N sipped her wine as she seated herself next to Mor. The blonde moving to top her wine up despite Y/N not even being finished with the glass she already had. Y/N didn’t talk much while everyone was in a large group. She preferred to simply listen and pitch in wherever it felt appropriate. Even though she had been hanging around the Inner Circle for a couple of months now, she still felt like she couldn’t join in with much of the teasing and joking around. 

Everyone’s attention diverted to where the doors of the room opened and the shadowsinger stood in the threshold. He looked exhausted though happy to see his family. As everyone rose to greet him, Y/N remained in her seat, she didn’t want to impose. 

Y/N’s eyes gazed down at her now too-full glass of wine before lifting it up and took a long sip, not noticing everyone taking their places back on the couches. 

“We haven’t met before,” Azriel spoke to Y/N. 

Y/N nearly spilt her wine, surprised by someone standing so close and speaking to her. She still thought everyone was gathered by the door. 

With a nod of her head, Y/N looked up to where Azriel was standing. He looked almost angelic as the light from the chandelier shone from behind him, giving him a halo of light. Which Y/N thought was ironic considering he was the shadowsinger. 

But that was the moment she felt it. The bond snapped into place. Y/N nearly split her wine again. 

“No, no, we haven’t,” Y/N said. “I’m Y/N. I’m a healer.”

It was obvious that the bond hadn’t snapped for Azriel as he only gave her a small nod and took a seat next to her on the couch. Y/N tried to ignore it but she couldn’t, the feeling grew across her entire body, especially since Azriel was sitting so close to her. 

“Where are Feyre, Elain and Nesta?” Azriel asked, looking around the group, noticing the absence of the High Lady and her two sisters. 

“A sisterly night at Rita’s,” Rhysand answered, leaning back in his chair. 

Azriel only nodded and sipped the drink that Cassian had thrust in his hand. 

Y/N was still staring at her drink, she hadn’t tried to join in the conversation, nor did she even listen. Her mate was sitting next to her and she couldn’t believe anything was real anymore. The dress she wore seemed to cling to her skin and suffocate her. She craved fresh air. 

After playing her glass of wine on the table, Y/N rose to her feet causing attention to divert to her. 

“I’m going to go home,” Y/N announced. 

More reached out and clutched her hand. “Why? You haven’t finished your wine.”

“I’m just tired,” Y/N lied and hoped that no one would be able to pick up on it. “I’ll see you all soon.”

Without another word, Y/N began to walk out of the room. She felt a scratch down her mental shields but she didn’t allow Rhys in, afraid that she would accidentally let him know what she knew. And she wasn’t ready for that. 

The air was cold and Y/N tried to wrap her arms around herself for warmth but it was futile. Her pace quickened as she walked down the empty street. Y/N’s flat wasn’t too far away but with no one else around and only the sound of the wind howling, it made the walk much longer than it normally was. 

“They were worried about you,” Azriel said as he soundlessly approached Y/N.

Y/N jumped at the presence of the shadowsinger. “Azriel! What are you doing here?”

“Rhys asked me to walk you home,” Azriel said, folding his hands behind his back. 

Y/N didn’t want him to walk her home. Just being near him made her heart race. If he questioned it she could easily blame it on the fright he gave her but not for too long. 

“I don’t need anyone to accompany me,” Y/N mumbled. “I’m perfectly fine on my own.”

“Is that why you missed the turning to your street?” Azriel asked.

Y/N stopped dead in her tracks and looked around. There was a reason why the walk seemed to be taking longer than usual and it wasn’t just the silence or wind. It was because she had been so distracted that she had completely missed the street she lived down and continued further into the city. 

“I was just taking the long way,” Y/N said, holding her head high as she turned around and began to walk back the way she came. 

Azriel let out what sounded like a quiet laugh. It caused Y/N’s heart to flutter. She needed to get away from Azriel as soon as possible. 

“You can return to the other’s,” Y/N said. “I’m sure you have a lot of catching up to do.”

“That can wait until tomorrow,” Azriel replied, walking side by side with her. “My priority now is getting you home safe.”

Y/N sighed and turned to look up at Azriel. Which was a mistake as he was looking down at her. “I’m not winning this, am I?”

Azriel shook his head, a hint of a smile toying at the corners of his lips. “Not in a million years.”

Y/N huffed in amusement. “Stubborn male.”

There was amusement shining in Azriel’s eyes and Y/N had to tear her gaze away. Being alone to process that she had a mate was what she needed, having Azriel standing right beside her wasn’t helping her in any way. However she knew that no matter what she said, he wouldn’t leave her until she was safely at her doorstep. Every time Y/N quickened her pace, Azriel did. Every time she slowed down, Azriel did the same. 

“I only live at the end of the street,” Y/N spoke up. “I am fine to get home alone.”

“Rhys ordered me to bring you to your doorstep,” Azriel replied. 

“You really don’t need to,” Y/N said. 

“They were quite worried about you when you abruptly left,” Azriel said, repeating the words he said when he first made himself known. “They said that it was out of character for you.”

“How would they know? They’ve only known me for a couple of months.” The words were harsher than Y/N originally intended and she was mortified speaking about the group in such a way when all they had shown her was kindness.

Azriel wasn’t phased as he continued. “A couple of months can still be a good judge of character. Even I believe that it seemed out of character for you and I’ve known you for barely ten minutes.”

Y/N rubbed her upper arms. “I am just tired tonight.”

Azriel looked as if he didn’t believe her but didn’t push.

Y/N’s gaze was fixated on the cobblestone ground as she walked.The cold temperature made her shiver as she walked, making the hair on her arms stand on end. Though she wasn’t sure if that was from the cold or was because of Azriel. 

Before Y/N could continue to shiver in the plummeting temperature, warmth encased her as Azriel’s wing wrapped around her. Y/N glanced up at Azriel who didn’t even look at her as the two continued to walk. Y/N now stood even closer to Azriel than she wanted but she was thankful for the warmth he provided. 

“I live just up there,” Y/N pointed out and Azriel simply nodded. “Thank you for walking me home. Even if you didn’t need to.”

Azriel tucked his wing back and Y/N immediately missed its warmth. “It was no problem.”

Y/N tilted her head up to face him. He looked tired when she had first seen him but now he truly looked as if he were about to pass out on his feet. There were dark circles under his eyes now more visible in the light from the streetlamps outside of her home. 

“I suggest that you rest for a while,” Y/N said. “You look as if you are about to pass out on my doorstep.”

Azriel tried to suppress a yawn but failed. He gave Y/N a shy smile. “I think you may be right.” 

Y/N stood awkwardly in front of him. Despite her wanting to originally leave the house to escape him, she now couldn’t find it within herself to let him leave. Azriel didn’t move from his position in front of her, he didn’t make the move to leave. 

“Do you want to stay? I have a spare room you can stay in.” Y/N blurted out. “You did go out of your way to walk me home and you simply look exhausted, it is honestly the least I can do. I also don’t want to be responsible for falling from the sky because you passed out.”

Y/N fiddled with the rings on her fingers and avoided eye contact with Azriel, missing the smile that appeared on his face. 

“Thank you,” Azriel said sincerely. “I appreciate your offer.”

Y/N quickly glanced up at him before unlocking her front door. “The spare bedroom is just down the hall. The bathroom is the door next to it, feel free to use whatever in there you wish.”

Azriel thanked her once more before following her directions down the hall and entered the bedroom. He did not exit again. 

Y/N made her way to her own bedroom and flopped down on the bed. Her mate was sleeping just a few doors down from her. Her mate. Never in her entire existence did Y/N think she would have a mate and he had just walked into her life so casually. She was unsure of how to process it. The bond clearly hadn’t snapped for Azriel and Y/N didn’t exactly want to bring it up to him as they had only just met. Although she did invite him into her house. 

Y/N sighed and slipped out of her dress and pulled on her nightgown and climbed under the covers. She closed her eyes and willed herself to go to sleep. Y/N laid awake basically all night. 

***

Azriel was gone by the time Y/N woke in the morning. He had left a note with a small cake from the bakery down the street. Y/N’s heart swelled at the thought of him even writing a note to thank her and because he had left to get her a cake and came back to the house to leave it on a small plate from her kitchen. He already wasn’t making it easy for her to process everything. 

Y/N had already decided to have a relaxing day to herself. There was a book Nesta had given her that she wanted to read and the day was perfect for it. She settled into her armchair and draped her blanket across her knees when she felt the tap against her mental shields. With a sigh, Y/N lowered them. 

What do you want, Rhys?

Elain was hurt while she was in the garden. 

Is she okay?

She seems to be but the cut is quite deep. 

Y/N sighed. I’ll be there soon.

***

Y/N stood before Elain and inspected the cut on the back of her hand. It was deep and parts of the thorn had seemed to be trapped inside the cut. Elain winced whenever Y/N pulled a piece out. 

“I’m sorry,” Y/N muttered. “There’s just a few more pieces before I can heal the cut over.”

Elain nodded as Y/N picked out the other thorns and wiped them onto a tissue next to her. 

“Rhys mentioned that you left early last night,” Elain said. 

Y/N sighed. “Did he tell everyone?”

“He just wanted to know if you were okay,” Elain said. “And so do I. It’s unlike you to abruptly leave somewhere.”

Y/N had become close friends with the middle Archeron sister. When Y/N didn’t have anything to do, she would normally sit with Elain in her garden and talk. It was nice having a friend. Y/N had never been too close with anyone before, preferring her own company over a large group. 

“I was just tired,” Y/N said. “I just wanted to lie down and sleep.”

Elain’s gaze lifted to meet Y/N’s, her eyes calculating, deciding whether to believe her or not. “If anything is going on,you can tell me.You are my friend.”

“Elain!” A voice interrupted anything Y/N was going to say. 

Azriel came around the corner and halted once he noticed Y/N sitting with Elain. “Y/N? I didn’t know you would be here.”

“Rhys asked me to take a look at Elain’s hand,” Y/N said, trying to stop her racing heart.

“What happened?” Azriel asked, walking further into the room.

“I just cut it on a thorn in the garden,” Elain answered. “It’s nothing too bad.”

Azriel came closer until he sat down in the seat next to Y/N. She tried her best to block him out but it was hard. 

“That is the last thorn out,” Y/N said and wiped it on the tissue. 

Y/N held Elain’s hand in between hers. “You might feel a small sting but nothing too bad.”

Y/N closed her eyes and let her power shine, quite literally. A golden glow emitted from between Y/N’s fingers as she healed Elain’s hand. She could feel her power flowing into the cut and weaving the skin back together. 

Both Azriel and Elain watched in amazement as the glow died down and Y/N pulled her hands away. All that remained of the cut was a thin red line.

“That should fade within the next few days,” Y/N said, gently running her finger across the newly healed cut. 

“That’s amazing!” Elain said, admiring the healed injury. 

Y/N smiled. “It truly is a gift I am grateful to possess.”

“Does it hurt anymore?” Azriel asked, looking from Elain’s eyes and back to her cut. 

Elain flexed her hand. “No, it doesn’t. Thank you, Y/N.”

“There’s no need to thank me,” Y/N replied and leaned back in her chair, her arm lightly brushing Azriel’s, who still hadn’t taken his eyes from Elain. 

“Is there something you wanted, Azriel?” Elain questioned. 

Azriel looked startled for a brief moment but it was hardly noticeable. Y/N only noticed as she was sitting so close to him. 

“I just… wanted to make sure you were okay,” Azriel said. “Rhys told me what happened.”

“Oh, that’s kind of you,” Elain said with a small smile. “I am quite all right now, thanks to Y/N.”

Y/N suddenly felt like she was interrupting something. Clearing her throat, she stood up. “If I’m no longer needed, I’m going to leave. I was in the middle of something when Rhys summoned me here.”

Azriel didn’t tear his gaze away from Elain as Y/N bid them goodbye and it made Y/N’s heart fall the smallest amount. Once she was a safe distance away, Y/N let out a sigh. 

The way Azriel looked at Elain and the way he came rushing when he was told she was injured communicated enough to Y/N. Elain was her friend and she wasn’t going to stand in the middle of her and Azriel. Even though it pained Y/N. She had finally met her mate and he was already taken with another. 

Y/N dragged her feet all the way back to her home.

***

The next few weeks were torture for Y/N. As much as she tried to avoid Azriel, he always seemed to appear. The first few times, Y/N had genuine excuses to not talk to him. But the more he appeared the more she was running out of them and the more ridiculous they became. 

Staying away from Azriel had become a task that pained Y/N the more and more she did it. Azriel would always go out of his way to talk to her whenever the entire Inner Circle were together and Y/N was only happily listening in. When she was treating injuries, he would appear with her favourite dessert from the bakery near her home. 

Everything he did made it hurt her more whenever she would see him with Elain. They would be talking in hushed voices that would instantly stop whenever Y/N walked into the room, interrupting whatever lovers' conversation they were having. She would always notice the small glances Azriel and Elain would send each other. It became hard to be around them. 

Y/N and Azriel were sitting together in Elain’s garden. No one else was around and Y/N wished that they were. Her heart was beating rapidly once more, Azriel had to surely pick up on it. Every time she was around him, her own body seemed to betray her. 

“I should get going,” Y/N said. 

“You always do this,” Azriel said and Y/N stilled.

“Do what?” Y/N questioned.

“Whenever we are alone together you find an excuse to leave,” Azriel said. “Do you not want to be around me or something?”

“No, it’s not that–”

“Then what is it?” 

Y/N stuttered over her words trying to find an answer. “I-I can’t tell you.”

Azriel scoffed. “I have been trying to get to know you Y/N, I have been going out of my way to talk to you and get to know you and you shoot me down every single time. Tell me why.”

“Azriel,” Y/N said softly. “I can’t. If you were in my position you would understand.”

“Then tell me,” Azriel said standing up,his voice rising in volume. “Tell me so I can understand. And don’t you dare say that you can’t.”

“If you were in my position and your mate was clearly in love with someone else then you wouldn’t stand in the way of that either.” Y/N snapped. 

Azriel stilled. “Mate? You are my mate?”

Y/N shook her head before stepping around Azriel. “I didn’t want to tell you Azriel. I didn’t want to ruin anything between you and Elain. It hasn’t snapped for you yet so you can just pretend this conversation never happened.”

“Y/N–” Azriel reached out his hand but Y/N stepped away and didn’t turn around again. 

***

Azriel was still in the garden when Elain returned. He sat back in the chair and was staring ahead.

“Where did Y/N go?” Elain questioned. “Did you finally tell her?”

Azriel finally looked to Elain, there were unshed tears in his eyes and Elain’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

“What’s wrong?” Elain asked. 

“She’s my mate,” Azriel said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Elain smiled. “That’s a good thing, it’s what you’ve always wanted.”

Azriel shook his head. “She thinks that I am in love with you.”

“Oh,” Elain said. “Did you tell her that she is sorely mistaken?”

“She didn’t give me a chance,” Azriel said. “I-I don’t know what to do.”

Elain reached out and took Azriel’s hand and held it between hers. “Azriel, I have listened for weeks about you talking about her and how beautiful she is. I am not going to let you sit here and let her leave over some silly misunderstanding. Go and talk to her.”

Azriel stood from the chair and bolted from the garden.

***

Y/N closed the door to her home and sat down on the couch, taking off her shoes. She didn’t want to ever see Azriel again. There was a pain deep within her chest that she couldn’t get rid of. No matter how much Y/N had tried to ignore the bond, she was always drawn to Azriel. He was constantly on her mind and she wanted to be near him. 

Y/N thought it would have been easy to avoid him. Being the shadowsinger, he had responsibilities that sometimes took him on long missions but ever since he had returned from his last one, Azriel hadn’t left the Night Court not even once. Every time he appeared with a new gift for her, she felt the bond pulling her to him tighten even more. But it wasn’t only the bond that made her feel the way she was. It was genuine feelings for him that made her feel the way she was. She was falling for the shadowsinger. 

A knock on the door interrupted Y/N’s thoughts. She had an inkling to who stood on the other side. Y/N opened the door and her suspicions remained true.

“What are you doing here, Azriel?” Y/N asked. 

Azriel stepped into her home and dragged his fingers through his hair. “You are my mate.”

Y/N sighed. “Yes I am.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Azriel said. 

“Because,” Y/N began. “You feel something for Elain and she is my friend so I didn’t want to stand in the way of that.”

Azriel shook his head and took a step toward Y/N. “I don’t feel anything for Elain. I won’t lie to you and say that I haven’t ever felt anything for her, I used to. But I haven’t felt that way about her for years.”

“Why are you telling me this?” 

“Because,” Azriel said, lifting his hand to gently cup Y/N’s cheek. “You need to know that when I came into that room when you were healing Elain’s hand, I wanted to speak to her about you. I wanted to know everything about you after the night I met you. She told me your favourite dessert, your favourite flower, told me about you and what you did to help my brother when he was hurt.”

“I have wanted a mate for a long time,” Azriel continued. “And when I met you, I hoped it would be you. When I walked you home that night, Rhys never asked me to. I did it out of my own free will. I felt a pull toward you that I couldn’t explain. It’s why I went to Elain to know more about you. And the more I knew about you, the more I began to fall for you.”

Y/N closed her eyes and leaned into Azriel’s touch. She felt stupid, so utterly stupid. 

“The bond snapped for me the moment I saw you,” Y/N said. “I never thought that I would have a mate. I am nearly six hundred and I had given up hope. It scared me and confused me at first but the more I spoke to you and the way you genuinely got to know me, knowing that the bond hadn’t snapped for you. I began to fall for you as well.” 

Azriel leaned his forehead against Y/N’s. 

And then he felt the snap. 

Y/N’s eyes opened, tears brimmed her eyes as she looked into Azriel’s. He smiled wide. 

“You don’t need to accept the bond right now,” Y/N said. “We can get the time to know each other better. After all, I was actively trying to avoid you.

Azriel let out a chuckle and leaned forward. “Out of respect for your friend. That says a lot more about you than you think. I will accept the bond because from what everyone has said about you, I would want no one else as my mate than you. You are perfect.”

Y/N couldn’t help herself but smile. “So are you, Azriel.”

Azriel’s lips brushed hers as he pulled her closer. “I am looking forward to spending my life with you.”

“And I am looking forward to spending my life with you too, shadowsinger.”

Azriel smiled before capturing Y/N’s lips in a sweet kiss.

[azrielbrainrot]

Silent Voices Speak

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: Both you and Azriel find yourselves with some sleep related problems. Who would have thought you could be each other's remedy?

Warnings: barely any angst

Word Count: 3400

Notes: I can't believe it took me so long to write a new story in the healer!reader universe, they're my first babies. Hope you enjoy!

Healer!Reader Universe Masterlist

The killings hadn't stopped. The, by now, tripled security slowed them down and allowed the Inner Circle to be made aware of any disturbances quicker, and the bodies hadn't been found by any innocent civilians since then either, thankfully saving a lot of fae from having to witness such gruesome sights, but the killings hadn't stopped.

Your research has given you some clues as to the motives behind the murders, though you still can't fully understand the ritual behind them. None of the information you've gathered has helped in stopping them from happening or finding the people responsible for them. Amren has traveled to the Day Court and is now searching the High Lord's extensive libraries to try and find more information on a lead she got but, for now, there wasn't enough to make anyone feel safer.

The streets of Velaris felt lifeless, bars and restaurants closing earlier than usual given the unofficial curfew every fae seemed to have set for themselves. The City of Dreamers, heart of the Night Court, was scared of the dark. Apart from the killings, that was what weighed the heaviest on the Inner Circle's minds.

Feyre and Rhysand had been forthcoming with information, letting the public know they were actively searching for the killers and sharing some of the details as a means to stop the rumors that kept going around that were only exaggerating the already awful murders the more they spread. Of course, they'd been careful not to reveal any of the more gruesome details, or the fact that everything pointed to the murders actually being sacrifices to what could be an old God or even worse.

Those had been the details keeping you up at night as you were now, sipping on chamomile tea in hopes of relaxing your body enough to get some sleep without any unwanted thoughts filtering through and spoiling it once again. You wanted to help as much as you could, and weren't considering talking to Rhys and backing down as Azriel had suggested multiple times, but you weren't used to witnessing this much cruelty, not like this.

When you'd been stationed as a healer during the war, you saw a lot of awful things, some of them you won't ever forget, but this felt different. Everything about these killings and the motives behind them had set off every alarm in your body.

The cup was empty before you realized, bringing it up to your mouth only to be met with nothing. You let out a sigh and look over to the comfortable bed, knowing you had to at least lay down and try to fall asleep, no matter how frustrating it was to toss and turn for hours on end or get woken up by terrifying dreams. At least this bed was a lot more comfortable than the one you had at home, it almost made you want to ask Rhysand where he got it from although you probably would never be able to afford it.

You're not entirely sure what brought it on but, after coming back from yet another fruitless mission, Azriel asked you to stay in the townhouse with him. You tried to decline, not entirely comfortable with staying at the High Lord's house indefinitely. You've spent some nights up in the House of Wind when you were helping with research, but this was different. You didn't want to take advantage of Rhysand and Feyre's kindness, but Azriel insisted, a tormented look you weren't used to seeing painted in the shadowsinger's face, and so you ended up accepting.

Just remembering your talk that night made you feel hopeless, wanting nothing more than to make him feel better and take some of the unbearable weight off his shoulders somehow.

“I'm not sure this is necessary,” you try to reason with him, “There haven't been any attacks in the city, with so many eyes on the streets it would be impossible.”

“It also seemed impossible for them to be able to hide for so long but even my shadows are blind to them.”

“I can't stay at my High Lord and Lady's home."

“I can't sleep not knowing you're safe,” the admission feels heavy between you, prompting you to study his face carefully, taking note of the fear and desperation behind his request. “I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“Azriel…”

You don't know what to say, not sure what this means for the two of you.

“Please.”

But with that little word he convinced you, not caring if it was Rhysand's house you were going to sleep in, or anyone else's, as long as it made Azriel feel at least a bit more at ease.

Your relationship has been changing ever since that fateful night when he kissed your cheek goodnight. It's a silly thought even now, that something so inconsequential as a peck to the cheek would end up meaning so much for the two of you.

Ever since that day your talks have gotten longer and more frequent, Azriel has also flown you to and from work a few times, has taken you on multiple outings that you can only classify as dates at this point. But things hadn't gotten further than that and more chaste kisses on the cheek.

The timing wasn't right. Not with everything that has been happening and the troubles filling both of your minds, the long hours Azriel had been putting his body through trying to find even the smallest clue about these murders, and your assistance in any research the Inner Circle needs as well as providing mental and physical aid to a terrified city.

Your feelings for him were impossible to deny - even though you've certainly tried to when everyone else asks about him, especially your High Lady, who you've come to learn is an avid busybody, - and you were more than confident that he cared for you just as much, but the timing wasn't right, and so you've been stuck between acting like friends and so much more.

You were still thinking about the shadowsinger when your head hit the pillow, making yourself comfortable and letting your thoughts wander around warm hazel eyes and shy smiles, hopefully lulling you into a peaceful sleep at last.

Rushed murmurs and harsh breaths take you away from the soft grasp of sleep. You try to ignore them at first but as the words grow louder, you try to decipher them confused. A flurry of shadows filters into your room, flying over you when you open your eyes to try and ascertain the situation. You can barely see them with the low lights the moon rays covered by dark curtains provide, but it almost feels like they're tugging at you, urging you to get up.

The thought that Azriel could be in danger makes you leap out of bed, foregoing your robe or slippers as you follow the frantic shadows to his room next to yours. Only hesitating at the door for a moment, knuckles raised against the intricately designed wood as you considered knocking before barging into his room unannounced, but another string of groans and panicked breathing assault your ears, prompting you to open the door.

Your eyes land on the shadowsinger immediately as he lay restless on his bed, blinking a few times as you adjusted to the dim lighting, his room being even darker than yours. A small sigh of relief escapes you when you find him unharmed, although you soon realize that the noises you heard were the result of what appears to be a particularly consuming and terrifying nightmare.

He had struggled so much in his sleep that the sheets were completely thrown off, laying by his feet as his body tossed and turned uninterrupted. A light sheen of sweat covered him, telling you he'd been at this for a while. There was a familiar glint of blue on his nightstand, as Truth Teller and two of his siphons lay close by. You tried not to linger on the fact that he didn't appear to be wearing anything else aside from underwear for too long.

Some of the shadows that swirled around the room meet the ones that had brought you here, moving over you once more as if asking you to save their singer. You wanted to help them, but you're not entirely sure if you should he seeing him like this, if he'd want you to see him so vulnerable.

Aside from that, waking up someone when they were so immersed in a dream, especially a nightmare, could be dangerous and bring more harm than good. Still, you couldn't leave him like this and go back to your room, so you decide to try and call his name softly, hoping the noise or familiarity will be enough to help him wake up in a more organic way.

“Azriel?”

You hesitate in the doorway, feeling like you were already invading his space, but as another weak cry escapes him your body moves on its own. You're at the edge of the bed before you even notice, repeating his name and shaking him softly so as not to startle him too much.

The pain was evident on his face. You didn't know what he was dreaming of but you knew you had to pull him out of there fast. You've never seen him so distressed. Watching him like this felt like a chain was tightening around your heart and lungs, making it hard for you to breathe or think.

At a slightly harder push, his eyes open, one scarred hand moving to grab your wrist, stopping you from touching him, as the other met to the nightstand, finding the hilt of his dagger. His hazel eyes were open wide, clearly disoriented by not only the nightmare but also having someone in his room. You expected nothing less from the Spymaster, of course he couldn't be so easily caught off guard even in his own room, but the tight grip was becoming too much, and you knew it was bruising, not being able to stop yourself from cringing softly at the pain.

As he understands the situation, wide eyes blinking multiple times as the waking world comes into focus, he drops your wrist and pulls away from you, sitting up and almost bumping his head against the headboard in his rush.

Neither of you moves or speaks for a moment, his heavy breathing the only thing that can be heard in the dark room. You wanted to turn the faelights on, to properly check on him, but Azriel always prefered the dark, feeling much more at ease surrounded by it. In fact, his shadows had hurried to him as soon as he woke up.

When his wide gaze settles into a frown, hazel eyes dropping to your wrist, you decide to speak up. You know that look and this was not the time for any other worries that might be growing in his mind, certainly none that concerned you.

“Azriel,” you whisper, not wanting to startle him, “Are you okay?”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No-”

“I shouldn't have hurt you,” he says, more to himself than to you, haunted eyes never straying from your wrist. You had only wanted to help, but now it feels like you made it worse by coming here.

“No, it's my fault. I know better than to wake someone up from a nightmare,” you swallow, throat suddenly dry, “but it looked like you were in pain and I couldn't leave you like this.”

He seemed unwilling to listen to you, a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head the only answer he gave you as you told him it wasn't his fault. Azriel is always too aware of himself, never allows himself any mistakes, as if he thinks he has to prove himself worthy of the life he leads. You don't even want to know what's going through his head now that he's convinced himself he hurt someone he cares about.

You let out a sigh when it was clear he wasn't going to say anything or acknowledge you further, you could almost see him receding into his own mind, getting consumed by his betraying thoughts. If you had listened to your training, you might not have ended up in this situation.

Slowly and very carefully, you move closer to him, giving him time to push you away or stop you if he wanted to. You only stop when your bare knee brushes his thigh, the warmth of his skin spreading through yours. Reaching for his hand, you interlock your fingers and squeeze softly, his eyes finally meeting yours.

“I shouldn't have grabbed you like that.” The pain was evident in his face, and it hurt you far more to think he was beating himself up than your wrist ever did. “I'm sorry.”

“There's no reason to be sorry,” you smile up at him, trying your best to soothe him, “You were disoriented and moved to protect yourself, that's all.”

He still looks unwilling to let go of his guilt, but you can see him settling back into himself, his usual calm expression falling over his beautiful face. He lets go of your hand in favor of cradling your wrist, carefully inspecting it as if he was looking at a broken bone and not at a bruise that would be completely healed within the hour. Caressing the soft skin with his thumb lightly, the scarred skin and affection behind the movement causing goosebumps to erupt.

“You didn't answer my question. Are you alright?”

Azriel looks up at you then, a conflicted look falling over his face once more. It seems he had been too focused on your wrist to remember the nightmare, and the fact that you'd seen him like that. You're almost positive he hates the fact that you've seen him like that even more than whatever haunted his nightmares. He's always been an extremely private person, so you can't even imagine what it feels like for him to be seen in such a vulnerable light by someone he barely knows.

“Did I wake you?”

“No,” the expression on his face telling you he doesn't believe it, “You didn't. I've been finding it hard to sleep with everything that has been going on.”

“You're safe here.”

“I know, I've just had too much on my mind.” It feels like you're doing this wrong, you're the one that should be worried about him, not the other way around. “Your shadows came into my room and I heard movement so I came to check on you.”

Disapprovement flashes in his eyes, directed at his shadows of course. You'd find it adorable how he treats his shadows like misbehaving children if it weren't for the situation. Hopefully he won't be too harsh on them, you can almost feel the lecture coming. You're not entirely sure how much they can feel, if they can at all, but they had done good in going to find you, even if Azriel reprimanded them for it.

“I didn't know they could do that without you being conscious. They were very helpful,” you smile down at the dark wisps stationed over his shoulders. He clearly didn't agree with you, a soft scoff escaping his lips, but you hope this is enough for them to know they can come to find you in this type of situation from now on. You don't want Azriel to suffer on his own when you're there for him.

“Thank you,” you look up at him in surprise, “You didn't have to come. It was only a nightmare.”

It's not as surprising that he doesn't want to tell you what the nightmare was about, or even change the subject. If he wants to pretend this never happened come morning, you're more than welcome to oblige, as long as he feels better and knows you're always ready to lend a helping hand.

“You can come to me for anything, Azriel,” your hand finds his once again, thumb caressing the scarred skin on the back of his hand. “I'll always be here for you.”

He holds your gaze in an intense stare, the swirl of emotions written in his eyes becoming almost too much to bear, and still you're unable to break away from the all-consuming hazel. It seems like the world stops around you for a moment, and there's only you and him.

As your surroundings return slowly, you suddenly become too aware of the position you're in, of what it would look like if someone walked in. They would find you sitting on his bed, right next to him, lost in his eyes, hands clasped together between you, disheveled hair and half lidded eyes. The lack of clothing only added to the sight, you had never been so conscious of how short and thin the nightgown you wore to sleep was. You can only be grateful that Azriel doesn't sleep completely naked, though his underwear barely leaves anything to the imagination, and your imagination is desperate to run wild.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as the thought settles in your mind, clearing your throat softly to try and break yourself out of those thoughts. Looking up at the suddenly captivating pattern painted on his dark navy walls when his gaze becomes too much. You could swear you saw the corner of his lip rise as he likely noticed the effect he had on you. This was a good thing, it was like the Azriel you're used to, but you needed to get back on track.

“Do you think you can go back to sleep?” You try to untangle your fingers from his but he holds onto your hand, unwilling to let go of you just yet. “I can get you some tea to help you relax if you can't, or maybe we could go for a walk instead?”

Tiring him out could be a good idea, although his body is probably beyond exhausted from the long hours he's been putting himself through. Maybe tea was the best option.

“Can you stay with me?”

His words cut through your racing thoughts, your lips parting in surprise. You had half expected him to kick you out of his bedroom when he came to, inviting you into his bed was the last thing you would have seen coming.

“What?”

“I think I can sleep if you stay,” he whispers, “but if you don't feel comfortable-”

“I don't mind staying,” you rush to assure him with burning cheeks, thankfully matching his own, “You just caught me off guard that's all.”

Azriel offers you a tired smile and, with a wave of his hand, fixes the sheets, moving to the middle of the bed so you have enough room to settle next to him. Your movements are painfully awkward as you lay down next to him, all too aware of every inch of your body, heart beating out of your chest.

While you're in the middle of deciding how to safely position your hands, stiff body frozen in place, he takes matters into his own hands, an achingly fond smile playing at his lips, his hand falling to the small of your back and pulling you in closer to his body, his scent enveloping you.

Azriel closes his eyes, breathing out a soft, “relax.” Your hand finds his chest, body slowly but surely melting into him as you do as he says and will your mind to stop wandering. Letting the soft beats of his heart calm yours, you decide to listen to your body, and fall into him, arm wrapping around his waist as you inch even closer, your chest finding his, tangling your legs until you can't know where you end and he begins. His grip on you tightens as a satisfied sigh escapes him, one heavy wing falling over your body, until you're impossibly close.

Your face now only a breath away from his, your nose bumping into his chin as he drops a soft kiss to your forehead and nuzzles into you, breathing you in. You almost catch yourself purring as you lay in his arms, completely surrounded by Azriel.

Tangled up in each other's warmths, sleep found you both easily, finally allowing you a few peaceful hours of sleep after the grueling weeks you've endured.