#if Feyre can defeat him with little effort then why has Beron been allowed to live all these years

[the-darkestminds]

One thing that’s always bothered me is how Feyre was able to put Beron on his ass at the meeting of the High Lords. It makes zero sense for her to be more powerful than him. She is newly fae and only has a drop of power from each of them, and yet it reads like she has the full arsenal of all the High Lords’ powers. If it was truly just a drop of power given, shouldn’t that be reflected in how she’s able to wield it?

[aldbooks]

”when was the last time you ate?” Elucien (Elain asks lucien)

Angsty Prompts

Oooh, I've been waiting for an Elucien one. I love Gwynriel, but a lot of these prompts are better suited to Elucien.

I'm setting this one probably a year or two after ACOSF. Koschei is dealt with, Beron is dead, he's learned Helion is his father, Vassa has returned to her throne on the continent with Jurian, he still hasn't made much progress with Elain and Lucien is... not dealing well...

This is kind of a long one

---

It had been a surprise to everyone when Tamlin arrived unannounced on the border on the Night Court. Elain had been sure Rhysand was only one snide comment away from tearing the male's head off, but he'd been smart enough to remain firmly inside the bounds of the Day Court.

At the very least, she expected that he and her sister would not even deign to hear him out had he not looked quite so aggrieved. And after the aid he'd provided during both the conflicts with Hybern and Koschei, she rather thought they might have softened towards the male just a little bit.

Elain, of course, had not actually been present for this particular conversation, but she'd had a vision of his coming just before they'd received word of his arrival, and Rhysand had opened his mind to her, rather surprisingly, not long after they'd gone to meet the High Lord of Spring.

The reason why, she'd discovered not long after.

"I don't know what else to do," Tamlin said, looking defeated. "It was bad for several months when he first arrived in Spring- after Jesminda, but this..."

He shook his head, shaggy, blonde hair swishing around his shoulders. He looked better than the last time Rhysand had seen him outside of a battlefield. Not quite himself yet, but not so wild and unkempt.

"Back then, he'd been emotional. He'd have bouts of furious anger and sadness. Now and then he'd hide away and wallow in his guilt and sorrow, but mostly he still tried to participate. Tried to distract himself from the grief. Now... it's like he's barely alive. I'm not sure he's said ten words altogether since he arrived and it's been a month."

"And what exactly do you think we can do for him that you cannot? You are his oldest friend," Feyre said cautiously.

Tamlin sighed, rubbing a hand tiredly over his face. "Honestly, I don't know. But I don't know who else to turn to. He's turned away anyway who's come to visit, even his mother. I thought perhaps... your sister-"

"I will not involve Elain in this," Feyre interjected. "She has shown no interest in him or the bond, I will not force her to interact with him. Whatever is bothering him is not her burden to bear."

Rhys, surprisingly, said nothing. His silence seemed rather pointed. Not at his companions, Elain realized, but at her. Whatever his thoughts were on the subject, he did not share, but it was rather obvious he wanted her to hear.

"No one is forcing her," Tamlin growled in frustration. "But it would not hurt to ask. I've exhausted every other possibility," he said quickly, before Feyre could retort. "I would not be here otherwise," he added bitterly.

Rhysand's gaze shifted to his mate who studied Tamlin, arms crossed over her chest and expression uncertain. Still, he offered no opinion.

Tamlin's sigh this time sounded heavier. "I'm worried about him," he said quietly. "He's been through so much already, I-I'm worried what he might do..."

The implication hung heavily amongst them, seeming to hit her sister hard. "I will ask her," she said after a long moment. "But I make no promises."

"That is all I ask," Tamlin said gratefully, nodding to them both before he disappeared.

---

Elain was still staring out the kitchen window, where she had been at the time Rhysand had allowed her into his mind. She'd gone there to help the twins, who were making bread, in an effort to expel the sudden nervous energy she'd felt after informing Rhys and her sister of Tamlin's arrival.

Now she blinked, refocusing on the room. Her hands were still sticky and covered in flour, one hand pressed down on the ball of dough she'd been working. Nuala and Cerridwen stared at her worriedly and she realized she was crying. Barely, but enough to wet her lashes.

"Are you alright, Lady?" Nuala asked.

Before Elain could answer, Rhys and Feyre returned, walking straight into the kitchen.

Her sister wrung her hands nervously in front of her, seeming to carefully consider her words. "Elain..."

"I know," she whispered. Elain's eyes slid to Rhysand's who was watching her silently. There was no emotion on his face, but she thought she could see it in his eyes. He knew what she'd decided, and he approved. "I will go."

Feyre threw a glare at her mate before she took a step forward, reaching out a hand. "You don't have to-"

"I know. I said I will go."

Truth be told, the decision had been an easy one and not just because she was the sort of person who could not bear to see another suffering when there was something she might do to help.

Despite the tug of the bond that she had been consistently ignoring for the last four years, she did not dislike her mate. In truth, she barely knew him. But she did feel compassion for him. She was not a monster.

Even so, it was not the only reason she'd decided to go. She hadn't even realized it until she'd made the choice but... she was dying to get out of this house. She loved her sister but ever since she'd come to live here in the Night Court, she'd felt... smothered. Like she couldn't quite take a full breath.

True, she was comfortable and cared for, had every luxury she might desire but... The others, her sisters especially, still treated her like a fine doll. Delicate and breakable, in need of protection. At first, she had appreciated the security, but now it was almost stifling.

No one ever said so explicitly, but she was hardly permitted to leave the house without an escort, let alone the city. Even with all of the fear and awfulness that had come with the two battles she had now seen (from the sidelines at that, safely tucked away in her tent - with guards) it had almost been a relief to be outside of Velaris.

Beyond the carefully protected city, she had only seen the worst of Prythian thus far. Battlefields and uninhabited parts of territories. She well remembered her sisters descriptions of the Spring Court when she had first returned to them. Of its beauty and peacefulness. She wanted to see it for herself. Perhaps she would ask him to show her. Perhaps it would stir him from whatever depths he had sunk himself into...

---

The heady scent of flowers and the gentle warmth of Spring were the first things she registered when they arrived. Feyre had initially wanted to send one of the Illyrians with her for protection but Elain had insisted it was not necessary. Neither male, she knew, was overly fond of the High Lord, and she did not want to risk provoking a fight when she was there for a different purpose entirely. Feyre and Rhys were also out of the question as they still had a tendency to quarrel with Tamlin.

The compromise, had been the blonde standing at her side, carefully scanning the manor grounds around them as she nearly glowed in the sunlight as golden as her hair.

"Well," Mor said. "It seems most of Tamlin's court still has not returned, though his gardeners, at least, seem to have been hard at work."

Indeed, the gardens were just as exquisite as her sister had described. Even if they did look a bit sparse, having clearly been recently redone, old or dying plants stripped away to give more room for the still healthy ones to grow. There was a riot of color spread all around her and varietals she'd never seen before. She itched to explore, but the low, steady beating that reached her ears from inside the mansion, reminded her why she was here.

Mor waved a hand, gesturing for Elain to stay close as she followed her towards the massive wooden front doors. They opened before they reached them and they were greeted, not by a footman or housekeeper, but by the High Lord himself. Tamlin's expression was guarded, but she could see the flash of relief in his eyes.

"You've come," was all he said.

"As you see," Mor replied tartly. Green eyes flared at her tone, but he refrained from responding in kind.

"Where is he?" Elain asked.

In reply, the High Lord turned on his heel and nodding with his head for them to follow. He led them through the sparsely decorated hall, over checkered marble floors. She could easily imagine how it must have looked before he had destroyed it, though great pains had clearly been taken to restore it as much as possible. She could see the faint cracks that had been patched up, the faded spots of paint and carpet where pictures were now missing and furniture had once sat. It made her sad.

They stopped in front of a large oak door in a shadowy hallway, Tamlin laid his hand on the doorknob but seemed to hesitate. "I should warn you," he said, words little more than a breath so they might not be overheard by the room's occupant. "He- does not look like himself. As you would have known him..."

Even Mor seemed uneasy at this. It was hard for Elain to imagine the male as anything other than the vibrant, kindly one she had met over the years. "I think," she said eventually. "It might be best if I go in alone, for now."

Mor tensed, and even Tamlin seemed uncertain before nodding. "As you wish." He turned the knob and silently pushed the door open, making room for her to pass. Once she entered the room, he shut it behind her with a soft click. On the other side, she could hear whispered arguing which she did her best to ignore as she took in the space before her.

It was a library, she realized, though it had taken a moment for her eyes to adjust to the lower lighting she had not expected when the rest of the house had been full of natural light. No, not a library, the space was too small for that, a study. There was a fire on the far end of the room, a faded green couch spread before it. Colorfully woven rugs covered the floors and large bookcases covered the walls on either side. A scratched wooden desk sat to her left, a pair of mismatched armchairs on the right.

She did not immediately ascertain his location, though she could detect his scent. With soft steps, she padded further into the room, her skirts rustling about her legs the only other sound beyond the crackling fire.

She caught a glimpse of a familiar shade of red over the arm of the couch and moved around it, just barely holding in a gasp when she finally saw him.

"I should warn you... he does not look like himself..."

Indeed, if it were not for the bond that thrummed faintly between them, and the scars that ran down the side of his face, she might not have known him.

Lucien.

Something broke in her as she took him in. His long red hair was loose, draped haphazardly around his face and shoulders and did not look as though it had been washed or brushed in some time. His usually pristine clothing was rumpled and dirty and appeared much looser on him than it ought to. His golden skin was paler than she'd ever seen it, his cheeks not as full as she remembered, making his features look sharper than before. Dark bruises circled under his eyes which stared unblinking at the ceiling and he lay so unnaturally still that for one horrible moment, she was afraid she'd been too late.

Then his chest rose and fell on a breath that might have been a sigh, and his fingers twitched, the bottle he'd been holding beneath them falling to the floor. Empty. As she approached him, the smell of alcohol wafted off of him in heavy waves.

He did not move as she drew closer, did not even seem to register her presence as she knelt on the ground before him, bringing their faces almost level.

"Lucien," she said quietly. He blinked, but did not otherwise respond.

Remembering their first true meeting, she reached inside of herself for that golden thread she tried so hard to keep buried. Following its path to the male before her, she gave it a light tug. He jerked slightly. Finally, his gaze moved oh so slowly in her direction.

His face seemed darker at this angle, shadows from the flickering flames dancing over his mouth and cheeks, glinting off the golden metal of his eye. The russet one, stared blankly at her, so hollow it nearly tore her apart.

Her chest tightened at the utter emptiness she saw there. Whatever had caused this, it wasn't just eating at him- it was consuming him. The bond tugged and pushed between them, instinct demanding she soothe him and she did not fight it as she reached out a hand, softly trailing her fingers along the side of his face, tucking away a strand of hair.

Some unnamed emotion flickered in his eye, there and gone before she could determine its origin. Still, he said nothing. Did nothing. She traced the line of his jaw. "Lucien," she breathed.

His lashes fluttered slightly, chest filling with a deeper breath than before. Still not much of a reaction, but more than the first time she'd said his name.

Again she followed that strand that connected them. When she reached the gate to his side, a massive thing of intricately sculpted iron tangled with vines and umber leaves, she chose a different approach. Rather than tug as she had before, she gently pulled, as though reeling in a line, trying to draw him out of the darkness that held him.

Gradually, the life seemed to return to that molten stare as he focused fully on her for the first time. He blinked, once, twice, then said- his voice deep and scratchy from disuse. "Lady."

She almost sobbed when she heard it and, instead, smiled faintly. "Hello."

"Hello."

She breathed in a slow breath. He was speaking. His gaze never left her face, almost unnerving in its intensity, but he was responding to her. And that was a start.

She wasn't sure why it was the first words out of her mouth. Perhaps it was his too pale skin, or his slightly sunken cheeks, or the clothes that did not fit as they should, but an undeniable urge to care for her mate rose in her as she said "When was the last time you ate?"

---

I'll probably write a part 2 to this but it's late and this was already getting long so, here you go for now 😅

[hacawijo]

Alright, If We’re Gonna Play with Az’s Bonus Chapter, Let’s PLAY with Az’s Bonus Chapter (Pt. 2)

Yeah baby, part 2 of a PAINSTAKING close read lol.

Azriel winnowed into shadows before she could say anything he uses the shadows to ESCAPE, they are a coping mechanism, appearing at the door to Rhys’s study a heartbeat later. His shadows whispered in his ear that Elain had gone upstairs. It’s interesting that the shadows specifically report on Elain’s whereabouts here and not earlier, as well as later not reporting on Gwyn.

Rhys sat at his desk, fury a moonless night across his face. He asked softly, “Are you out of your mind?”

Azriel donned the frozen mask he’d perfected while in his father’s dungeon. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Rhys’s power rippled through the room like a dark cloud. “I’m talking about you, about to kiss Elain, in the middle of a hall where anyone could see you,” he snarled. “Including her mate.” It is not out of line for Rhys to acknowledge that this was stupid. If for no other reason than that it would hurt Lucien if he saw/felt them.

Azriel stiffened. Let his cold rage rise to the surface, the rage he only ever let Rhysand see, because he knew his brother could match it. Which is the mirror to something that Rhys notes in ACOFAS, that they are similar in their darkness. Because Rhys is really the only person Azriel can be himself with, completely, I think it’s important to acknowledge that this is unprecedented ground for them and specifically for Azriel. This is the first time Azriel can actually voice ANY of these thoughts out loud, and only because Rhys saw them, he did not bring this concern to Rhys himself. “What if the Cauldron was wrong?”

Rhysand blinked. “What of Mor, Az?” Also very not out of line thing to ask. Feyre is the only person Mor has really told about her sexuality, and so to Rhys and co. AND Azriel, nothing about this situation has changed in the past 500 years. The fact that Azriel is able to get over Mor, without that confirmation of her sexuality, because of Elain, is significant I think.

Azriel ignored the question. Hmm yeah, but he can’t keep ignoring this question forever, and that’s another reason he and Elain did NOT kiss in this chapter. He and his family and Mor all need closure regarding their relationship. “The Cauldron chose three sisters. Oh boy, I have a lot to say about the number three later on! Tell me how it’s possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another.” He had never before dared speak the words out loud. NEVER BEFORE DARED TO SPEAK THE WORDS OUT LOUD. This is the first time he’s even verbalizing these thoughts - of COURSE he doesn’t know how to navigate this conversation. This is raw emotion being spewed out right now, enhanced by the unresolved tension from his interaction with Elain.

Rhys’s face drained of color. “You believe you deserve to be her mate?” So, he says that his two brothers ARE WITH two of those sisters, which is a way to acknowledge the fact that both people in each pair accepted the bond and that it was a mutually built connection. Then he says “the third was given to another” which is actually really different. He’s saying that Elain was given to Lucien by the Cauldron, suddenly one member of that bond is not an active participant - and this is mostly true! Elain has ignored Lucien diligently, and she hinted about her lack of feelings for him when she asked Feyre why he should be entitled to her affections just because of the cauldron and whatever amends he has made. I don’t like Azriel saying that Elain is something to be given as opposed to a person to be connected to, but I’m not sure exactly what it means that he did that. ANYWAY, Rhys really does supply the word deserve, and we have evidence from earlier in this chapter that essentially proves that Azriel does not believe he deserves Elain, anyway. He is having an argument with Rhys, yes, but it almost feels like he’s arguing with himself.

Azriel scowled. “I think Lucien will never be good enough for her, and she has no interest in him anyway.” (THE ONLY TIME ELAIN’S ACTUAL FEELINGS, ACTIONS ARE CONSIDERED IN THIS DISCUSSION BTW) Also, not that he doesn’t answer Rhys’s question. For Azriel, this isn’t necessarily about what HE deserves in this moment, it’s about what Elain wants. Almost certainly, Azriel DOESN’T believe that he deserves Elain, but he sees the injustice of her being forced to accept a bond with someone for political or spiritual/societal reasons. So while to Rhys it may seem like Azriel is is putting Lucien’s claim down in order to boost his own, I actually think Azriel is trying to distinguish a different issue - Elain’s agency. This same thing happened with Mor and Eris. ABSOLUTELY THIS IS NOT ALL LIKE THAT SITUATION BECAUSE LUCIEN IS NOT ERIS!!! I am not trying to compare their behavior. BUT, Azriel would have dueled Eris for Mor’s agency regardless of whether or not she chose to be with him.

“So you’ll what?” Rhys’s voice was pure ice. “Seduce her away from him?” Rhys, I think, misinterpreting Azriel and it’s mostly not Rhys’s fault. Azriel doesn’t communicate well and is not currently communicating well. That being said, I wish he would give Azriel more benefit of the doubt.

Azriel said nothing. He hadn’t got that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to. HE HADN’T PLANNED ANYTHING, this whole conversation is just like a raw nerve.

Rhys growled, “Allow me to make one thing very clear. You are to stay away from her.” Well come on, now, Rhys, what if she doesn’t want to stay away from him? BE A FEMINIST RHYS, just add, “unless she wants to see you”!

ALSO, DID RHYS TELL FEYRE ABOUT THIS? MY MONEY IS ON NO, AND IF RHYS DIDN’T TELL HER ITS BECAUSE HE KNOWS HE’S NOT WHOLLY DOING THE RIGHT THING BY ELAIN.

“You can’t order me to do that.”

“Oh, I can, and I will. If Lucien finds out you’re pursuing her, he has every right to defend their bond as he sees fit. Including invoking the Blood Duel.” Another really big sign that this is going to play out Elriel style is the mentioning of the Blood Duel. Chekhov’s gun eh?

“That’s an Autumn Court tradition.” The battle to the death was so brutal that it was only enacted in rare cases. Despite being an outsider, Azriel had wanted to to invoke it when he’d found Mor all those years ago. Had been ready to challenge both Beron and Eris to Blood Duels and kill them both. Yes see? He would have done this regardless of Mor’s feelings toward him. Only Mor’s right to claim their heads in vengeance had kept him from doing so.

“Lucien, as Beron’s son, has the right to demand it of you.” But hey fun fact Rhys knows that Lucien is almost CERTAINLY not Beron’s son. Interesting to consider in context.

“I’ll defeat him with little effort.” Pure arrogance laced every word, but it was true. Again, Azriel is dodging Rhys’s points and is honestly being pretty immature right now, but he hasn’t actually said ANYTHING about an intention to pursue Elain with any of this. Rhys has filled in the blanks, and Azriel has responded to smaller aspects of Rhys’s macro-points with which he finds fault. I think this is also because he knows Rhys is right about a lot of the realities of the situation, but he is in the mood to be contrary right now, so he’s fighting back where he can stomach it.

“I know.” Rhys’s eyes flickered. “And your doing so will rip apart any fragile peace and alliances we have, not only with the Autumn Court, but Also with the Spring Court and Jurian and Vassa.” Rhys bared his teeth. Rhys’s motivations are based entirely on things that have nothing to do with Elain’s feelings, which is sad. But, they’re not insignificant considerations. Though come on dude you did pretty much enable Hybern’s arrival to Prythian by alienating The Spring Court with Feyre’s escape.“So you will leave Elain alone. YES, ALONE, because Elain probably is PRETTY FREAKIN LONELY If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her.” Low. Blow.

Azriel snarled softly.

“Snarl all you want.” Rhys leaned back in his chair. “But if I see you panting after her again, I’ll make you regret it.” I do think this is a really ungenerous description of what was happening downstairs with Elain. Their interaction was careful and consensual, we have painstaking detail to prove that, and it was far from panting/animalistic in action.

Rhys had rarely threatened punishment or pulled rank. It stunned Azriel enough that it knocked him from his rage. This is another person taking ANOTHER choice away from Elain. I think she may find out about Rhys doing this and I personally think she’s gonna be rightfully pissed.

Rhys jerked his chin toward the door. “Get out.”

Azriel tucked in his wings and left without another word, stalking through the house and onto the front lawn to sit in the frigid starlight. To let the frost in his veins match the air around him.

Until he felt nothing. Was again nothing at all. With Elain, he is SOMETHING. Because he feels things.

Then he flew to the House of Wind, knowing that if he slept in the riverside manor, he’d do something he regretted. He’d been so vigilant about keeping away from Elain as much as possible, Further evidence that Azriel never intended to fight Lucien or make a stink over Elain and had stayed up here to avoid her, and tonight... tonight had proved he’d been right to do so.

He aimed for the training pit, giving in to the need to work off the temptation, the rage and frustration and writhing need.

He found it occupied. His shadows had not warned him. I am not sure what it means that his shadows didn’t warn him. It could mean that Gwyn is protected from his shadows/immune to them. It could mean that his shadows wanted him to go see Gwyn - either out of a desire for Azriel to find some peace with her or out of curiosity as to who/what she is?

It was too late to bank without appearing like he was running. Azriel landed in the ring a few feet from where Gwyn practiced in the chill night, her sword glimmering like ice in the moonlight.

She stopped mid-slice, whirling to face him. “I’m sorry. I knew you all were going to the river house, so I didn’t think anyone would mind if I came up here and—“

“It’s fine. I came here to retrieve something I forgot.” The lie was smooth and cool, as he knew his face was. His shadows peered over his wings at her. They are… wary of her? They’re shy around her?

The young priestess smiled �� and Azriel thought it might have been directed at his curious shadows. But she just hooked her coppery-brown hair behind an arched ear. “I was trying to cut the ribbon.” She pointed with her sword at the white ribbon, which seemed to glow silver. Some interesting language here and above (glimmering, glow etc.) to do with light, and again a juxtaposition between light and dark. But not a golden light, a colder/silver light.

“Aren’t you cold?” His breath clouded in front of him.

Gwyn shrugged. “Once you get moving, you stop noticing it.”

He nodded, silence falling. For a heartbeat, their gazes met. Gaze is definitely a romantically charged word, this is one of the tiny details that makes me unsure about the future nature of their relationship. He blocked out the bloody memory that flashed, so at odds with the Gwyn he saw before him now. I definitely do not think they are mates. I’m not closing the door on them being romantically involved, I don’t have enough evidence to do that, but I really think that if they were mates, Azriel would have known when he saw her at Sangravah.

Her head ducked, as if remembering it too. That he’d been the one who’d found her that day at Sangravah. Shades of Cassian’s reactions to Emerie’s wings having been clipped, in ACOFAS. “Happy Solstice,” she said, as much a dismissal as it was a holiday blessing.

He snorted. “Are you kicking me out?”

Gwyn’s teal eyes I have a lot to say about these teal eyes :) flashed with alarm. “No! I mean, I don’t mind sharing the ring. I just... I know you like to be alone.” Her mouth quirked to the side, crinkling the freckles on her nose. “Is that why you came up here?” I’ll talk more about this later, but there are a few small moments in the book where it seems like Gwyn might have a crush on Azriel, or some kind of special awareness/interest where he is concerned. I have seen almost no evidence that Az returns those potential feelings, except PERHAPS for the moment where he hears her screech and pays attention. But I think anyone would pay attention if someone screeched? Also he watches reverently as she cuts the ribbon, but that also feels like it would happen regardless of any romantic feelings he might have. But I don’t know for sure!

Sort of. “I forgot something.”

“At two in the morning?”

Pure amusement glittered in her stare. Better than the pain and grief he’d spied a moment before. So he offered her a crooked smile. He cares that she not be feeling pain and grief, as he does with anyone he deems good, and that is part of why he offers her the smile, as he clearly says right here. “I can’t sleep without my favorite dagger.”

“A comfort to every growing child.”

Azriel’s lips twitched. I think her irreverence matches his sense of humor quite well. He refrained from mentioning that he did indeed sleep with a dagger. Many daggers. Including one under his pillow.

“How was the party?” Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music. This shadow is acting totally independent of him. She’s asking a simple question of Azriel at the moment, and he CAN’T hear the music he believes that shadow might be dancing to. Lightsinger evidence, I’d say.

“Fine,” he said, and realized a heartbeat later that it wasn’t a socially acceptable answer. “It was nice.” LOL I will say here that Azriel has to make a lot of conscious effort in this interaction. He makes himself respond in a specific way, which is not language that was used to describe his interactions with Elain earlier in the chapter. This could totally just be because he doesn’t know Gwyn that well, and certainly that’s a big part of it, but I think there’s something to be said for the fact that he is still filtering himself here with Gwyn in the quiet.

Not much better. So he asked, “Did you can the priestesses have a celebration?”

“Yes, though the service was the main highlight.”

“I see.” LOL

She angled her head, hair shining like molten metal. More glowing-type stuff “Do you sing?” I love Gwyn.

He blinked. It wasn’t everyday that people took him by surprise, but... which is great! Elain surprises him with the headache medicine in ACOFAS, Feyre surprises him with her intuition and tenderness throughout. I think this indicates that they will have a significant relationship regardless of its exact nature. “Why do you ask?”

“They call you shadowsinger. Is it because you sing?”

“I am a shadowsinger— it’s not a title that someone just made up.” It’s super-duper interesting that they actually discuss the fact that he’s a shadowsinger. When Feyre meets Azriel, she is curious, but specifically doesn’t ask follow-up questions or for expansion on the ability. Why specifically remind us here that Azriel is a shadowsinger and that Gwyn sings? If not to foreshadow something related to the ability and Gwyn?

She shrugged again, irreverently. Az narrowed his eyes, studying her. “Do you though?” She pressed. “Sing?”

Azriel couldn’t help his soft chuckle. “Yes.” I love Gwyn. She is the reason I now realize a lot of what I’ve been doing in my life is irreverence :P

She opened her mouth to ask more, but he didn’t feel like explaining. Or demonstrating, since that was surely what she’d ask next. So Az jerked his chin to the sword dangling from her hand. “Try cutting the ribbon again.” I love this so much. Maybe it is romantic, but I think that’s debatable. What’s not debatable is that it’s completely charming.

“What— with you watching?” It’s actually pretty funny that in order to avoid giving a demonstration of something that makes him vulnerable and puts Gwyn in the role of expert he flips it and makes her demonstrate vulnerability while he is the expert. Gwyn might be quite a bit braver than Azriel in some ways.

He nodded.

She considered, and he wondered if she’d say no, but Gwyn blew out a breath, steadied her feet and balance, and sliced. A beautiful, precise blow, but it didn’t sever the ribbon. SEE? Brave. I love Gwyn.

“Again,” he ordered, rubbing his hands against the cold, grateful for its bracing bite and the distraction of this impromptu lesson. Distraction is a notable word here. Azriel’s thoughts don’t really ever stray from Elain and his turmoil throughout this interaction, that’s what the word distraction tells us.

Gwyn sliced again, but the ribbon remained unyielding.

“You’re turning the blade a fraction as it comes parallel to the ground,” Azriel explained, drawing his Illyrian blade from down his back. “Watch.” He slowly demonstrated, rotating his wrist where she did. “You see how you open up right here?” He corrected his position. “Keep your wrist like that. The blade is an extension of your arm.”

Gwyn tried the movement as slowly as he had, and he watched her self-correct, fighting against the urge to open up her wrist and rotate the blade. She did it three times before she stopped falling into the bad habit. “I blame Cassian for this. He’s too busy making eyes at Nesta to notice such mistakes these days.”

Azriel laughed. “I’ll give you that.” I sense a lot of compatibility, just, again, not sure it’s romantic.

Gwyn smiled broadly. “Thank you.”

Azriel dipped his head in a sketch of a bow, something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed. As if content to lounge on his shoulders and watch. This is another line that I think offers the most evidence for something significant between Gwyn and Azriel. It’s lovely that she has helped to settle something restless in him with the distraction - and I think it’s important to note that it might not have done the same thing had he encountered Emerie or another trainee on the roof. At the same time, maybe it would have. Also love that his shadows like to watch Gwyn. Lightsinger/Shadowsinger evidence! This all being said, I can’t really think of an SJM romance that is built around a comfort zone. I can think of many friendships that operate that way, but not so much with the romances. There’s usually nervousness and flutters and passion and… restlessness, somewhere in there.

But— sleep. He needed to at least attempt to get some.

“Happy Solstice,” Azriel said before aiming for the archway into the House. “Don’t stay out too much longer. You’ll freeze.”

Gwyn nodded her farewell, again facing the ribbon. A warrior sizing up an opponent, all traces of that charming irreverence gone. I love Gwyn.

Azriel entered the warmth of the stairwell, and as he descended, he could have sworn a faint, beautiful singing followed him. Could have sworn his shadows sang in answer. This feels VERY much like Lightsinger/Shadowsinger evidence. His shadows, as this chapter has demonstrated time and again, operate independently of him, and they react to Gwyn’s song. I also think it’s possible that Gwyn is sort of always singing, even when she’s not. Like she glows with song on some level, and that’s what his shadows are reacting to - because I don’t think she’d necessarily actually sing while attempting to cut the ribbon.

He slept as well as could be expected which means pretty much not at all y’all — he makes it clear he never expects to sleep well, but when Azriel returned to the River House to gather his presents before dawn, he found Elain’s necklace amid the pile. He pocketed it. Spent the rest of his day, even the blasted snowball fight, with every intention of returning it to the shop in the Palace of Thread and Jewels. How did the necklace get there??? Did Elain really put it there??? Seems like even more evidence that he assumes too much about her understanding of his feelings. Also, though, it seems really rude/OOC for Elain to do that. She gave up very quickly after he gave her a really thoughtful gift. SOMETHING’S FISHY.

But when he returned from the cabin in the mountains, he didn’t go to the market square.

Instead, he found himself at the library beneath the House of Wind, standing before Clotho as the clock chimed seven in the evening. Important to remember that this is one of the longest nights of the year, which means dusk is coming on later than it was when Nesta attended the evening service weeks/months prior- a service that started almost exactly when seven bells rang the time. It is very well possible that Azriel finds himself at the library as the evening service is happening. The one in which Gwyn sings. If she does have some kind of Lightsinger power in her, it may be that he was lured by that power instead of returning the necklace. Even if they always start at 7, he still arrives exactly at 7. The only point against this surmising that I’ve done is that Clotho led the service which Nesta attended, and yet she is here to greet Azriel. Either I’m wrong and the service is not happening at or around this time, OR the service can take place without Clotho occasionally, and this served the interest of the plot so that Az could speak with someone.

He slid the small box across her desk. “If you see Gwyn, would you give this to her?”

Clotho angled her hooded head, and her enchanted pen wrote on a piece of paper. A Solstice gift from you?

Azriel shrugged. “Don’t tell her it came from me.” Yes, it really doesn’t seem super romantic to re-gift a necklace to Gwyn. It just feels sour, if this is the start of a romance between them.

Why?

“Does she need to know? Just tell her it was a gift from Rhys.”

That would be a lie.

He avoided the urge to cross his arms, not wanting to look intimidating. He blocked out the memory that flashed— of his mother cringing before his father, the male standing with crossed arms in such a way that made his displeasure known before he opened his hateful mouth. This feels very important. We know VERY LITTLE about Azriel’s story, his past, and his family, and so I want to point out ANY and EVERY nugget we get!

“Look I...” Az searched for the words, his voice becoming quiet. “If there’s another priestess here who might appreciate it, give it to them. But I’m not taking that necklace with me when I leave.” I’m not exactly sure what it means that Azriel says this. It could be that he doesn’t want to make a thing of his potential feelings for Gwyn and so tries to deflect with this statement, both to convince Clotho and himself that it’s not about Gwyn. It could also mean that Azriel needed to be rid of the necklace, and wasn’t in the mood to fight with Clotho over an ultimately secondary (to getting rid of the necklace) impulse to give it to someone who provided him comfort and companionship at a time when he needed it.

He waited for Clotho’s pen to finish writing. Your eyes are sad, Shadowsinger.

He offered her a grim smile. “I lost the snowball fight today.” HE LOST THE FIRST SNOWBALL FIGHT IN 200 YEARS! And I’m pretty sure it wasn’t because Gwyn made him feel better the previous night. I think he lost because he is in anguish over the situation with Elain. Again, I understand that anguish shouldn’t necessarily be a romantic thing, but in SJM’s writing it often is. This is a romance series, angst is a thing, stakes are a thing. It’s not necessarily the most healthy, but it’s also not all-the-way unhealthy. He just feels strongly about Elain and there are a lot of obstacles between him and finding a way to resolve those feelings for good or bad.

I am a counselor for folks who have and are dealt/dealing with sexual, gender-based, and interpersonal violence, and if you want me to do an analysis of all of the relationships in SJM’s writing that aren’t wholly healthy, there won’t be any left over. Except for maybe Sartaq and Nesryn. they really do have their shit together. I suspend a fair amount of my disbelief and professional knowledge in reading these books because I love them and they are fictional :) Also, relationships are complicated. It’s pretty rare for me to work with a client that has a cut-and-dry, black-and-white story.

Now, in my PERSONAL NOT PROFESSIONAL experience, shit is messy, and messiness, even in real life, doesn’t always mean something isn’t worth the strife. Though absolutely abuse and assault are a whole other thing. I think it’s really good to think critically about relationship dynamics in fiction, because it’s a safe place to do great learning and reflection. I also think it’s important to consider that the rules of our reality are not necessarily the rules of the reality being written by an author. Maybe you personally find Azriel’s feelings toward Elain (as they have been expressed so far) are beyond redemption, and are unhealthy to a point where the relationship cannot be salvaged. But that is not realistically a reason that the relationship in question won’t happen. Pretty much any negative/toxic assertions that can be leveled against Elriel based on the VERY SMALL amount of first-person perspective we have in the relationship could be leveled against at least a few of SJM’s other endgame couples. Totally happy to get into this more and provide those examples :)

Clotho was smart enough to see through his deflection. She wrote, I’ll give it to Gwyneth. Tell her a friend left it for her.

He wouldn’t go so far as to call Gwyn a friend, but... “Fine. Thank you.” Not sure what this means. Maybe just that it takes Az a while to open up to people and call them friends.

Clotho’s pen moved once more. She deserves something as beautiful as this. I thank you for the joy it shall bring her.

Something sparked in Azriel’s chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn’s teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason... he could see it. And here we have the most romantic evidence for Az and Gwyn as a couple. Maybe he is falling for her and that’s why he can picture her smile. I really don’t know. I think it could also be that he is happy to be able to make her happy, in recognition of the comfort she gave him the previous evening. Maybe he can picture her because of her potential lightsinger status. Thoughts?

But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly. The image glowing, again, lightsinger-supporting language.

A thing of secret, lovely beauty. So now he is referring to Gwyn’s smile here. This is interesting, because Gwyn’s smile wouldn’t necessarily be a secret, but perhaps it is if you think of her as being hidden in the library, or that he’ll know about her smile and her receiving the necklace even though she won’t know that he’s the one who gave it to her. Or maybe he’s drop dead in love with her! Another thing that I don’t think is true given his stony attitude post-Solstice (when Gwyn is very much around) and the fact that he doesn’t seem to react viscerally to Gwyn’s kidnapping until Cassian points out that bad things could be happening to both her AND Emerie, as well as Nesta. He knows Gwyn just as well, if not better at this point, as he knew Elain when he reacted to HER kidnapping in ACOWAR. He was very riled, he was the one who noticed she was gone, he vowed almost immediately to go get her, knowing it might mean certain death (to be fair, he seems to have a bit of a death wish, BUT he’s still a pragmatist and doesn’t try to WASTE his life on things - either they’re essential to the court and/or Prythian’s wellbeing or essential to someone for whom he cares deeply.)