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mother-above · 1 year

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The Golden Warrior | Chapter 1

Azriel x Reader

Summary: To you, love was a poison that slowly killed. It was something that could make the strongest of warriors and leaders weak and vulnerable. You had successfully evaded romance and relationships for a century until the day you realized it had been plaguing you from within.

Chapters: 1/?

Warnings: 18+, violence, and swearing

*masterlist*

A/N: Hello! This is my first ever ACOTAR fic and I hope I do Azriel and the other characters justice! This fic will follow the majority of the plotline from the 2nd and 3rd books but please note that I took some creative liberties in some parts and shifted from the plotline in the 5th book.

The towering mountains looked especially magnificent against the blue and pink-hued sky. Crisp morning air whipped around you as you whirled past the horizon, your white and gold-tipped wings beating hard and straightening into a glide. This was always the best part of your day, flying just before the sun rose.

You craved the sun’s soft warmth and glow against your skin. Keeping your eyes on the brightening horizon, you focused on the breeze that swept the scent of the wisteria, lilac, and honeysuckle that adorned the Palace. The beautiful home made from sunstone sprawled below you, its bridges, and towers glowing as it waits to be sun-kissed. You couldn’t believe you managed to protect the Palace for 49 years, a pang of guilt flowed through as your fae eyes focused on a rebuilding village miles away.

You were hoping to catch the sunrise today but then two sharp whistles came from somewhere within the castle. With a groan and a roll of your eye, you dove down with blinding speed. With a swoop, you land gracefully on Thesan’s office balcony. You slammed his door open and glared at the High Lord who perched on his desk.

“Did you just fucking whistle to get my attention? Like one of your birds? A simple shout of my name would have sufficed!” you snapped.

Thesan smirked, “Well it worked, didn’t it?”

You grabbed a decorative trinket from a nearby shelf and hurled it at him, “What are you doing up so early? I thought you and Callon would still be rolling in bed at this hour.”

He crumpled a piece of paper and threw it straight onto your forehead. "I may be your cousin but I'm still the High Lord. You can't say things like that!"

With a mischievous smirk, you sat on the couch and clasped your hands pleadingly. With the grace of a seasoned actor, you softened your features and gave him the most innocent look you could muster. "Forgive me, High Lord of Dawn, I was just wondering why you summoned me. You know I don’t like to be disturbed during sunrise."

Thesan wanted to scold you for being so dramatic, but he couldn't, not when you were his little cousin whom he loved fiercely. "Rhysand and his courtiers are coming for a visit in two days.” He held up a hand and gave you a pointed look. “Before you ask, I don't know how long they'll stay here."

All traces of your playfulness disappeared; the face of a hardened warrior took over your features. You jumped up and stalked over to Thesan, your power, and energy rolling off your body.

“Those evil little Night Court brutes are coming to the Palace. Why?”

Thesan looked at you coolly, deciding he was going to approach this cautiously when he noticed the absence of the usual jewels around your neck. “Rhysand wants to come by and have diplomatic meetings and spend some leisure time here in Dawn Court. I have no doubt he’s here for something else, but we’ll find out eventually, and please, when the guests are here, wear your siphons and glamour them if you want. I can’t have them catching a whiff of what you are.”

You grumbled as you waved a hand over your neck to magically place the necklace on yourself. The necklace had three sapphires strung together by a chain of diamonds, it was gifted to you by Thesan when you reached maturity. The largest jewel sat in the middle flanked by two slightly smaller counterparts. It was beautiful and fit for Dawn Court’s royal family, but it also had a purpose. It helped you contain and conceal some of your magic, you could even see your power thrumming underneath it if you looked close enough.

With your overwhelming magic mostly contained, Thesan lets out a breath and finally felt comfortable enough to bark out orders to you. He wanted you to check on all the wards, secure the vaults that held ancient artifacts, and make sure all the guards and servants were briefed about the Night Court. Even though your guests weren’t due for a couple of days, Thesan reminded you to keep your wings hidden just in case they popped by early. Only the Peregryn’s and a select few people in your court knew that you were half High Fae and half Peregryn. And even fewer people knew the extent of your power. Thesan had them partake in an unbreakable vow to never reveal your true nature until the day you decide to reveal yourself.

By the end of the day, everyone in the Palace was exhausted from their efforts to prepare themselves for the upcoming visitors. Callon, who was Thesan’s lover and the Captain of the Peregryn legion was pissed that your cousin had invited them to Dawn. He was running himself ragged and snapping at you the entire day to make sure the troops were ready and planned all the security around the Palace and surrounding villages. Callon was annoying you so much that you had to remind him that he was outranked by you and to watch his tone. He apologized and you just scoffed, he was, unfortunately, a man in love, and it made him a nervous mess. You expected better from the captain of the Peregryn legions.

The sun had set and you, Thesan, and Callon had settled down by the fireplace and shared multiple bottles of wine. They were laughing at a joke Callon made when you heard a faint whisper in the corner of the room. You look and see nothing; you were about to ignore it when another whisper was heard. You looked at the pair, but they were in deep conversation, and no one seemed to have heard it, you looked back again and saw these dark wisps moving from the corner and going past the half-open door. You excused yourself and quickly slipped past the doors keeping the black wisps in your sight. They were no longer whispering but moving faster through the halls, you keep your footsteps light hoping you wouldn’t startle whatever this was. You stealthily followed it around the castle, and it seemed to be looking for something, it wasn’t until it reached the doors of the vault was when you did something. Not exactly sure what to do, you quickly leaned down and wafted the dark wisps with your hand. It spasmed and you swear it was almost startled to see you, it lingered for a few more seconds before disappearing into thin air.

“Mother above, what in the hell was that?” you said out loud.

With the Night Court arriving in a few days, there was no way this wasn’t their doing. Bursting into a run, you screamed Thesan’s name as you bounded up the stairs hoping it gave Thesan and Callon enough time to separate themselves from whatever they were doing in the few minutes they were left alone. You opened the door and Thesan was already standing, his eyes big at the sound of your panicked voice.

“What?” his eyes looked for any bodily injuries. “What is it?”

“I saw these black wisps moving around the Palace. They were trying to go into the vault before I stopped them,” you said.

Thesan frowned and then his jaw clenched, something he did when was he aggravated. “That must be the Shadowsinger, it’s incredibly annoying that he got through the wards. We'll have to strengthen them now. I’ll take the first half of the Palace and you reinforce the wards in the back.”

You nodded and hurriedly made your way to the south side of the Palace. Shadowsingers were extremely rare, and courts coveted them because they were the best spymasters. People could train for years but nothing would ever beat a shadowsinger. Until now, you honestly thought they were this tall tale they’d tell kids to scare them into behaving. You began to feel uneasy, was the shadowsinger in the Palace or was it just his shadows that he snuck in? Either way, you hated that this person was able to infiltrate your court.

***

The day of their visit finally arrived, and you peered in the mirror making sure you looked perfect, you wanted to make a good impression, this was the first time they’d meet you. Your lavender silk dress hung over your body perfectly, you gave a little spin in front of a mirror and examined the low back. Just in case anything turned hostile, your wings will have no obstructions if you ever need it. You waved a hand over your sapphires and glamoured them to be invisible, they were glowing brighter these days and it was easier to hide them than explain why your sapphires are more than jewels. Reaching for a mauve-colored bottle, you reapplied the color onto your lips and considered dusting blush on your cheeks, but you decided against it.

You lifted your hand and tenderly brushed the scars on the right side of your face. There were two parallel jagged lines, one nicked the bottom of your eyebrow and dragged up to your hairline. The other ran across the top of your cheekbone. You weren’t thrilled that it was so prominent, but you never thought to hide it. It was usually the first thing people noticed when they looked at you, the day Thesan was freed from Under the Mountain, he tried to get rid of it but even the High Lord of Healing couldn’t do anything about it. You could glamour it to make it disappear, but you wanted it there. It was a reminder of what had happened when Amarantha ruled Prythian, of what you endured and did for the people of Dawn Court.

Smoothing down your dress one more time, you left your bedroom suite and walked to the entrance to join Thesan and Callon. You were admiring the wisteria that hung along the arches above when the air shifted. Darkness filled the air for a split second then the High Lord of Night and two other courtiers appeared in front of you. The High Lord’s power hits your senses before you could even get a good look at their faces, your eyes are drawn to the violet-eyed male standing in the middle. Your eyes shift to the female on his right and then swept to the even taller winged male on his left. The High Lord was attractive, his feline smile already told you what kind of man he would be. What caught your attention was the winged male, he was the most attractive person you had ever set eyes on. His hazel eyes flickered to meet yours and it took everything in you not to gasp, you didn’t expect his gaze to be so scrutinizing. Rhysand gives a delicate nod to Thesan and his courtiers bow to your High Lord. Thesan returns the nod as you and Callon bow respectfully to the Lord of Night.

Glowing gold and moving with grace, your cousin opened his arms and swept it to gesture to the Palace. “Welcome, Rhysand. Allow me to introduce you to my cousin who happens to be my 2nd in Command.”

A friendly smile graced your lips as you allowed your golden glow to shine through, it was more subdued than Thesan, but you preferred it that way. “Welcome to Dawn Court, High Lord Rhysand. I look forward to getting to know you and your courtiers.”

Rhysand took your hand and pressed a kiss on top, a customary gesture that was a sign of respect to females in your court. The smile he gave you had you fighting a blush that threatened to bleed onto your cheeks. “Please, call me Rhys.”

Thesan introduces Callon and like the tough Captain he was, his greeting was reserved as he sized up the males and female. Rhysand introduced Feyre Cursebreaker and you threw all propriety out the window when you grabbed her hands and thanked her for bringing your cousin back.

Rhysand then gestured to the tall muscular man next to him, “This is Azriel, my spymaster.”

It was then when you noticed the small wisps of shadows that surrounded the tall Illyrian, you did your best not to gawk at them. He was dressed in all-black formal wear, his clothes just as refined as Rhysand and Feyre. The only difference was he was the one strapped with a weapon, from the looks of it something special and much older than you. That handsome man was the shadowsinger, probably the same one that was spying on you a few days before. You’re not sure if he or his shadows know it was you that disrupted its spying, but he showed no signs of recognition as he stepped forward to kiss your hand. You noticed the significant scarring on the tops of his hands and fingers, averting your gaze, you focused on the way his lips pressed onto your skin.

“Lady Y/n,” he said, his voice low and heavenly.

While he wasn’t as outspoken or flirtatious as his High Lord, his hazel eyes held yours in curiosity. It was only broken when Thesan clapped his hands and gestured for everyone to enter the Palace and have lunch before the diplomatic talks started. You fell into step with Feyre who stared up at the wonder of the Palace. Her eyes traveled from the hanging flowers to the bridges and towers of the estate. She tells you that it was beautiful which filled your heart with pride. This was your home, a place that you bled and fought for.

Thesan had used magic to make the dining table smaller, he preferred his meals with guests to be more intimate. It also made it easier to read them if they were in proximity. Thesan and you sat at the ends, a reminder to Rhysand that he was still in your court, and if this bothered him, he said nothing. Callon and Feyre sat by your cousin which left you flanked by Rhysand and Azriel. The Palace conjured chairs suitable for wings for Callon and Azriel, the spymaster nodded in appreciation. With a wave of Thesan’s hand, a feast appears on the table and the smell of roast beef and stir-fried vegetables filled the air. Everyone eagerly dug into the food and compliments from Rhysand had your cousin smiling in thanks.

Casual conversation flowed and it surprised you, this was not what you thought Rhysand and his courtiers were going to act like. You were expecting arrogant bastards, and you bluntly told that to Rhysand’s face. Thesan almost choked on his wine and Callon’s face blanched. Rhysand’s violet eyes widened in surprise, no one had ever spoken to the High Lord of Night like that. Azriel and Feyre looked at you in shock, they couldn’t tell if you meant to be rude or if you were genuinely curious. You innocently looked at Rhysand waiting for a response, no one at the table breathed until a deep and genuine laughter came from Death Incarnate himself. A beat later, the sound of chuckles comes from Azriel.

“In the spirit of keeping up our alliance, I thought it’d be beneficial if we acted more like ourselves instead of the ‘arrogant bastards’ we could be,” said Rhysand, an amused smile on his face.

Content with his answer, you smiled at him and continued to eat completely oblivious to the situation.

Thesan took a deep breath and faced Rhysand. “While my cousin is a strong and competent second-in-command, she has the horrible habit of saying the first thing that comes into her mind. I profusely apologize for her comments, she has much to learn as a courtier. My cousin hasn’t had a lot of experience in court.”

You stopped chewing when you realized how rude your comment sounded. You apologized and Rhysand brushed it off, he told you that it was a smart observation to make. As mortified as Thesan was and embarrassed you were, that conversation ended up making the atmosphere more casual and friendly. You discover that Rhysand is an overconfident flirt, but his advances aren’t disgusting, you find yourself enjoying the banter. It also helped that the true object of his affection was the woman next to him. You had an inkling of his feelings after observing how he looked at her. Feyre was curious and asked many questions, and Thesan answered them patiently. It was Azriel whom you kept stealing glances at, he looked like the quiet type, but his silence was unnerving. His shadows were calm, but you could swear they twitched every time you looked at them.

You were about to ask Azriel about Illyrians, you had never met an Illyrian and you were so curious to ask about his species of faerie when Feyre cleared her throat.

“Were you there Under the Mountain?” asked Feyre. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

Rhysand and Azriel leaned in, they’ve been to Dawn Court a couple of times over the past centuries, but they have never seen or heard of you. They were surprised when Thesan introduced you as his second in command, they were usually well updated knowing who held power in the other courts.

“My cousin,” you said as you shot a pointed look at him. “Is like an overprotective mother hen. He didn’t let me make a lot of public appearances in court until I was about 50 years old and whenever we had visitors, he made sure I was off somewhere doing some training or working with the other healers.”

Feyre’s brow furrowed as she looked at Thesan.

“While suffocating at the time, it was what saved me from being trapped Under the Mountain. I had broken my arm during training the day Amarantha invited the High Lords to that party. I didn’t feel like being a courtier, so I didn’t heal myself and used that as an excuse to stay behind. Only a few faeries knew of my existence, so Amarantha and her people never noticed my absence. The day she drugged the High Lords and used the spell, Thesan used the last of his power to put wards up to protect the Palace and send me a note with instructions,” you said as your eyes clouded thinking of the past 5 decades. “I went crazy the first year, the pressure of protecting the estate and the villages around it was too much. Everyone I knew and trusted was Under the Mountain, I was alone for a while. I raged when I realized I couldn’t leave the court for fear something might happen to it while I was gone trying to get my family back.”

You weren’t mad that he was protective when you were young. Yes, it was isolating but you understood why Thesan did what he did. If they knew the true extent of your power, you’d probably have the biggest target on your back. You sipped your wine and looked at your cousin as his remorseful brown eyes stared back at you. The day Thesan winnowed back to the Palace, you held each other and wept. He promised to never leave you alone again.

Azriel studied your side profile as you talked, he took in every curve of your nose, cheekbones, and lips. You were the female that caught his shadows, they practically ran to him in distress because they’d never been detected while spying before. All his shadows told him was it was a female who discovered them, they failed to mention it was Thesan’s 2nd. His eyes traced the jagged scars that did nothing to hinder your elegance. Your beauty rivaled Morrigan, he even dared to think that you may be more alluring than her. He watched you as you told your story, he could see your radiance dim as if the mere thought of the last 49 years had drained you. He could see the pain in your eyes, it was the same thing he felt when Rhys locked them in Velaris. At least Azriel had his family with him, from the looks of it, those closest to you were trapped Under the Mountain.

“I understand how you feel,” said Azriel.

All heads turned to him; it was the second time he had spoken out loud since arriving in Dawn Court. Amused, Rhys watched his brother lean closer to you as if he was captivated.

“Something similar happened to me, I can’t imagine not having your family there to help you.” He looked at the permanent marks on your skin. “Your scar—was that from one of Amarantha’s creatures?”

A low warning growl comes from Callon as he glared at the Illyrian, how dare he mention your scar. Rhysand almost spit out his food, Azriel was the politest and most well-mannered person in his inner circle. Azriel hated talking about his scars, yet he blatantly asked you about yours, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Rhys looked at Thesan to see if he was mad, but your cousin was just as curious as how you would respond.

Your fingers went up to trace the jagged lines, and the memory of torn flesh resurfaced. “This happened about 20 years ago, a Bogge was slaughtering faeries in a village. I’m no High Lord but I was the next best thing for my people. I went and hunted for it or-- at least tried to drive it away but I barely made it out alive, if I wasn’t a gifted healer myself, the scarring would be worse.”

“How did you escape it?” asked Feyre, her mouth opened in shock after hearing that you encountered the wretched monster by yourself.

This was when you had to lie and tell half-truths to protect your other identity. You looked at Thesan and he gave a discreet nod.

“The Golden Warrior came just in time to drag me up into the air. Bogge can’t fly so it wasn’t able to reach me. With teamwork and a miracle from the Cauldron, we were able to kill it,” you replied.

Azriel looked at Rhysand, but his brother was already on it. “We’ve heard about your warrior-- the Golden Warrior,” said Rhysand. “We heard this faerie had deadly power, the ability to bring down armies onto its knees.”

All playfulness was gone from Rhysand’s handsome face, his demeanor was all business. Callon bristled at the change in mood, but the High Lord of Dawn just frowned.

Thesan tutted in annoyance. “You could have waited until tonight’s drinks to bring up politics, Rhysand.” He waved his hand, and the table cleared, and tea and pastries filled the space. “Please continue.”

“We were just curious about the Golden Warrior; his power is something that could be useful in the future.”

Thesan squinted at Rhysand. “You know something I don’t know… what is it? You wouldn’t be visiting me if something big had happened. Is Amara…” he trailed off; he didn’t like saying her name. Especially after he watched her kill one of his Peregryn courtiers and plucked the white feathers of their wings. The next day, she wore a feathered dress to dinner just to watch Thesan and his court try to hide their fury.

“The evil queen is dead and will stay dead,” reassured Rhysand. “I just wanted to visit my allies and make sure everything between our courts is okay. If something or somebody like Amarantha pops up again, I want to know if we can depend on Dawn Court to ally your foot soldiers and Peregryn legions.”

Thesan frowned again and looked at Callon who gave him a small nod. You bit down on your tongue before you could say something that would contradict Thesan in front of the visitors. Your cousin does not like conflict, he tried to avoid it at all costs. He looks at each of his guests who look at him expectedly, his gaze reached yours and you glowed a little brighter as if to beg him to say the right thing.

“My court knows how I feel about war but… historically, you know I’ve always been loyal to the solar courts,” said Thesan.

You exhaled in relief and Rhysand’s relaxed demeanor returned. It wasn’t a clear “yes”, but it was much better than outright rejection. After the table was cleared, you offered a tour of the Palace and its grounds. Feyre gladly accepted and Thesan let you take the lead as you walked through the Palace. Staff, visiting nobles, and citizens both winged and non-winged, waved at your group and you waved back. The Night Court would nod and keep quiet, curious to see how your court was run. They decided that while Dawn Court was a little bit more formal, they saw that they had good relations with their people, and parts of the Palace were open for the public to enjoy, such as the library and gardens.

Rhysand was itching to talk about politics so after leading them to Thesan’s office, they walked in before Feyre insisted you finish the tour while the males talked about some stupid hunt, they had attended in Autumn Court a century ago. The Lord of Night gave her a look of longing before everyone parted ways, it was subtle, but you noticed it. Once the doors were shut and you walked a good distance from the door, you looked at Feyre with a sly grin.

“Is there something going on with Rhysand?” you asked casually.

She looked at you in shock, “No! What makes you say that?”

You made your way to show her the bedroom suites her court would be staying at.

“I can feel the attraction, you’re both constantly looking at each other.”

Feyre’s cheeks turned red. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. He’s the most insufferable person I know, I’m not sure how you can handle all that flirting. Besides, I should be the one asking about your obvious interest in Azriel.”

It was your turn to look stunned as Feyre smirked. “I’ve never met a shadowsinger before, it’s hard not to stare at the shadows moving around him. It’s-- unnerving.” You weren’t lying, it was one of the most peculiar things you’ve seen in your life. It didn’t help that he was the most beautiful male you’d ever seen, but his shadow’s movements and his piercing gaze were hard to ignore. You were still mad he got through the wards, you were hoping to talk to catch him off guard one day and ask him about his spying.

You find yourself getting along with the Cursebreaker even though you knew there were ulterior motives for her visit to Dawn Court. The rest of the day was spent roaming around the castle due to Feyre’s “curiosity”, it was tiring but it was better that you were present instead of Feyre going off by herself. It was becoming obvious that they were letting Feyre look for something and used their meeting with Thesan as a distraction.

***

After dinner, you found yourself feeling extremely restless once everyone retired to their rooms. Wrapping a shawl around your shoulders, you walked out of your chambers for a stroll around the Palace. You were making your way to one of the courtyards when you heard a whisper to your right. Looking at the spot, you see this wisp of a shadow and you huffed in annoyance.

“Show yourself,” you commanded, eyes focusing on a spot in the shadows. You couldn’t see anything, but you swear there was a figure somewhere in all that darkness.

Azriel froze, no one ever saw him when he was in the shadows, he was supposed to be undetectable. The High Lord of Night himself couldn’t see Azriel unless the shadowsinger made himself known but somehow, you saw him. Quickly removing the surprised look on his face, Azriel stepped out of his shadows and was met with your calculating gaze. He couldn’t help but think how beautiful you looked under the moonlight.

“Why were you following me?” Your voice was cold, and all traces of the gracious and friendly host were gone.

As smoothly as he could, Azriel said, “I wasn’t following you, I couldn’t sleep so I decided to go for a walk.” Azriel wanted to cringe, he was capable of infiltrating courts, but he was stumbling.

Detecting the blatant lie, your eyebrow quirked up unimpressed by the spymaster’s skills. You sized him up and then jerked your head towards some cushioned seating in the courtyard. “Come and have tea with me, I need to talk to you,” you said already walking away from him.

His footsteps followed you and it was only until he adjusted his wings and settled down on the cushioned seat that you conjured tea and cookies from the kitchen. You prepared your drink in silence, the both of you eyeing each other in anticipation of who would break the silence. He seemed content to sit there, so you sipped some tea before clearing your throat.

“What is the night court doing here, Azriel? Between you and me, I don’t think the three of you came here to talk about alliances and politics.”

His hazel eyes met yours, he didn’t think you’d be so blunt. “What makes you think that?”

“Your shadows,” you said watching the wisps dance behind him. “I caught them looking around the palace, what were you doing?”

He inhaled slowly, keeping his handsome face neutral. “I was just doing reconnaissance. Making sure no surprises were waiting for us in Dawn Court.”

A muscle in your jaw ticked, “My cousin may be stubborn at times, but we have always been loyal to the solar courts. After 50 years of chaos, how would we even have the time or energy to launch an assault on the Night Court? I don’t know how it is back at Night but we’re still rebuilding most of our cities.”

Azriel’s shadows swarmed around him as he guiltily thought about Velaris. How protected his city was from Amarantha’s wrath. “I was just doing my job. I apologize on behalf of Rhysand; we didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I think you were looking for something the other night,” you continued. “You know…you guys can just talk to us, right?”

The shadowsinger shifted in his seat, squirming under your attentive gaze. “We think Dawn Court is hiding something powerful,” he admitted before realizing what he said.

Azriel wanted to slam his head on the table, he couldn’t believe he just said that. He cursed himself for revealing any information, Rhysand had lectured Feyre on how to deflect questions, who knew the spymaster was the one to need a refresher? He looked at you with this renewed sense of realization, there was something different about you. Were you a siren? A witch? He was the best spymaster in all of Prythian and here he was spouting whatever came into his head. Even if this was his first time meeting you, Azriel felt as if he could trust Dawn Court’s second-in-command.

Fuck. They know we’re hiding something, you thought. Stirring more honey into your tea, you forced yourself to be nonchalant.

“That’s quite an accusation, shadowsinger,” you said coolly. “Something that you shouldn’t repeat in front of Thesan if you want a solid answer for our allyship.”

This must have been the strangest situation you’ve been in in a while. You and Azriel stared at each other, gazes burning, waiting to see who would reveal their secrets. The visible scars on his hands and wings told you that he has been a warrior his entire life. He was probably the most dangerous faerie you’ve ever met. This male had infiltrated the Palace and spied on you, that act alone should have pissed you off and made you hostile towards the male, but it didn’t. You were only intrigued by the handsome faerie in front of you.

Azriel smirked, “So, you’re not denying that Dawn Court is hiding something?” His voice came out in a taunting purr.

You think about the glamoured sapphires around your neck and the wings that hide beneath your skin, of that dark power that you have. This was why Thesan spent decades hiding you, so other courts and faeries weren’t going to be sneaking around and finding ways to utilize your gifts.

With a bored huff, you lean on the palm of your hand. “We have nothing to hide, Azriel. I think everyone’s just a little on edge after what happened Under the Mountain, scared that someone like Amarantha is going to wreak havoc on our frail country. We’re all feeling vulnerable which is why I think we should call it a night. Politics should be discussed with everyone present in a meeting room, not over tea and cookies.”

The shadowsinger doesn’t respond for fear he would say something stupid again. You had found a way to graciously end what could have been an ally-ending conversation and he was thankful. Who knows what he could have said, he might have even revealed the existence of Velaris or irritated Dawn Court’s 2nd to the point of no return. He stood up and gave you a courteous bow, but not without taking one last look at the strangely magnetic fae with the sharp eyes.

This is going to be an interesting few days you thought as Azriel walked away.

As he sauntered toward the direction of the guest suites, he could swear he could feel your gaze sear through his back. He wished he knew if it was curiosity or if you were imagining driving a knife through his back.

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dreamwritesimagines · 2 years

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Enamored [43] - Dancing with the Devil

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback my loves, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please let me know what you think, thank you! ❤ And as always, thank you @theskytraveler for helping me with the chapter and the story❤

Summary: Lovers’ quarrels are the renewal of love.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, mentions of sex, some gender specific language and terms, arguments.

Word Count: 7500

Series Masterlist

You couldn’t sleep that night.

It felt nearly impossible. Your thoughts were like a hurricane in your mind, and more than once you had got up from the bed to pace in the room, desperate for some sort of movement as if that could help with just how restless you were.

It didn’t help that you were alone in your bed for the first time after almost a month.

You hadn’t even realized how you had gotten used to sleeping right beside him until this very night. Now that he wasn’t there, now that he wasn’t holding you in his arms even while you both slept, now that you weren’t woken up by his kisses and soft caresses, you almost felt cold. Having dozed off around the dawn after hours of thinking, you only woke up when you heard a soft knock on the door.

“My lady?” Lucie’s voice reached you and you turned in the bed, searching for Anthony’s warmth but—

Right.

He wasn’t there.

You opened your eyes and rubbed at them, then sat up in bed.

“Come in Lucie,” you called out and she opened the door, then looked behind her and stepped inside.

“My apologies for the lateness,” she said, making you shake your head. “I checked the other room and when I couldn’t find you there I searched you in the house before coming here.”

You waved a hand in the air, your voice still hoarse. “Don’t worry about it.”

She lingered in her spot and then offered you a smile and went to open up the curtains, the light making you wince.

“It’s such a beautiful morning,” she said. “I think we should pick your gown for the ball tonight after picking what you will wear during the day.”

“The ball tonight?”

“Lord and Lady Colby’s ball?” she said and you ran a hand over your face, slipping a little into the sheets.

Lord and Lady Colby’s ball, of course.

When you and Anthony first got back from your honeymoon, you were invited to a lot of balls but you preferred to spend your evenings in a different way. It was only when Lady Whistledown had written earlier in the week about how Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton were not seen in a ball together that you had insisted on attending one and Anthony had begrudgingly agreed, telling you that you two would be leaving early.

You had a feeling that he wouldn’t be looking forward to coming back home with you tonight though.

“Right,” you said. “That ball.”

“Any particular color you have in mind? For the day or the night?”

You shook your head and she pulled out a pale blue gown.

“This for the day maybe? We can pair it with a sapphire necklace?”

“Sure.”

“And for the ball, I was thinking perhaps we could use this,” she said, pulling out a rose colored gown, “And pair it with your pink diamond hair comb and that necklace over your vanity—”

“Have you seen Anthony?” you cut her off and she paused for a moment, then cleared her throat.

“Uh…he left early this morning my lady.”

You bit down on your nail, your heart dropping to your stomach.

“Oh,” you said. “Alright. All those options sound good, thank you Lucie. You have wonderful taste as always.”

“Shall I have them draw you a bath before or after breakfast today?”

“Before,” you said. “So have you seen him leave or…?”

Lucie pulled her brows together. “I have.”

“How was he?”

“Is everything alright, my lady?” she asked back and you massaged your temples.

“We had a fight,” you managed to say. “Last night.”

“I could tell,” she said. “Would you like to talk about it?”

You thought for a moment, then shook your head.

“Whatever it was about,” she said. “I’m sure it will get solved. You’re both in love, and arguments are completely normal within a marriage. Perhaps you both need to calm down in solitude first.”

You scoffed a bitter laugh and shrugged your shoulders.

“I suppose,” you said. “I don’t have much of an appetite I’m afraid, so can you tell the cook to prepare something light for breakfast? Some fruit and tea perhaps.”

“Of course,” she said, “I’ll tell the maids to prepare your bath here.”

“Thank you,” you said and fell back to the bed as when she walked out of the room. You let out a groan, then pressed your palms over your eyes before letting your arms drop back to the bed, pursing your lips.

“Great,” you murmured. “It’ll be a nice ball I’m sure.”

You had planned to meet Cecily today but you were in such a sour mood that you wrote to her saying that you should postpone it and that you would see each other at the ball tonight. It gave you enough time to do whatever you wished at home, but you were so distracted by your own thoughts that you could barely focus on anything else.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying though.

Throughout the whole day, you did everything you could think of. You went through the ledgers which you had been postponing for a while, went over the staff files, made a list of things that they required by the end of the season and approved it, then gave it to Mrs. Burchett before going to the library to get a book.

It didn’t offer as much of a distraction as you had expected though, especially when your doubts were poisoning you.

This was the first time you’d had a fight this big, at least since the opera and you couldn’t help but think about what had happened at the opera.

You shut your eyes tight, trying to get rid of the unwanted thoughts. Of course it was nonsense, Anthony was in love with you, he had promised you that he would be loyal to you. Even when he didn’t know you were listening to his conversation with his mother that night your father was unwell, he had told Lady Bridgerton there would be no one else but you despite the fact that you weren’t even married or courting back then.

A mere fight did not mean you lost his love, nor did it mean he would seek comfort in someone else’s bed—

You did not even have time for these foolish thoughts. Now that Frederick was back in the city you had to find a way to make him pay for everything he had done, to take revenge for the pain he caused your mother and your whole family, but somehow, the doubts managed to seep into your thoughts, making you think the worst.

Especially considering you hadn’t seen him for the whole day.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even realize that Lucie was done with your hair. She placed the small hair comb on your bun, pink diamonds gleaming in the candlelight before she clasped the necklace behind your neck, then pulled back.

“There you go my lady.”

Your head snapped up and you blinked a couple of times before your eyes found hers in the mirror, then tried to smile at her.

“Thank you Lucie,” you said, turning your head to see your bun better and she smiled back at you.

“My lady, some of the maids here want to learn more about how one becomes a lady’s maid,” she said. “And I think one of them—Ethel, she can learn a lot, she’s very enthusiastic and sweet about it. She asked me if I could teach her how to style hair and such, in hopes that she can finish the education and become a proper candidate for the job so I was wondering if she could watch the next time I did your hair?”

“Of course,” you said. “I can refer her and such if she’d like, after she learns.”

Lucie tilted her head. “Refer her?”

“Well yes,” you said. “If she wants to be a lady’s maid. I mean I know it takes years to complete that training but…”

“My lady, no—” she said with a laugh. “She’s not looking to change her job. She wants to learn so that she will be ready by the time you and Lord Bridgerton have a daughter and that you might consider her.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you turned around to look at her better, trying to find the words.

“Oh,” you said after a pause. “Um…of course. If you want to take her under your wing, I can make the necessary arrangements happen for her full education.”

“Thank you my lady,” she said. “She will lose her mind when she hears it.”

You and Anthony with a baby.

Even the idea of it warmed your heart.

You played with your necklace absentmindedly and cleared your throat.

“But I don’t think that’s going to happen yet.”

“Perhaps for a good reason,” Lucie joked. “The whole London will run out of fabrics to make clothes the moment you have a daughter, and the rest of the ladies will have to wear their old gowns thanks to you.”

A small laugh escaped from your lips. “Lucie!”

“What? I’d say you will have to transform a room into a closet.”

You opened your mouth to retort but before you could do that, you heard a knock on the door, making both you and Lucie turn your heads.

“Come in!”

The door opened to reveal Anthony, and even the sight of him was enough to make your heart beat faster. He looked handsome as always, in his formal attire for the ball and the look in his eyes softened as his gaze fell on you before he frowned slightly, as if remembering your fight.

“My lady,” he said. “We may leave if you’re ready.”

You swallowed thickly and shot him a curt smile, then stood up from your seat in front of the vanity.

“Of course,” you said. “Enjoy your evening Lucie.”

“You too my lady.”

You walked out of the room, descending the stairs with Anthony before you both stepped outside to the stone road where the carriage was waiting for you. Anthony offered you his hand, --even after an argument his manners were impeccable— and you took it, then got in the carriage, with him following you.

The Colby house was very close to your house, barely ten minutes away, but the tension was so palpable even in the carriage that you could hardly sit still. The silence was suffocating and you bounced your leg, keeping your eyes on the street out of the window, playing with your necklace. Anthony stole a look at you, then clenched his jaw, taking a deep breath like he was trying to control himself from saying anything.

The carriage soon stopped and Anthony stepped out, then helped you out of it. You fixed your skirts, looking up at the house in front of you. It looked lovely, the garden was full of bright colored flowers and the whole house was lit with a golden light, the pleasant music reaching outside. Anthony offered you his arm and you took it, then you both made your way inside, the warmth and the chatter hitting you instantly.

“Finally a public appearance!” you heard Eloise’s voice and she approached you to kiss you on the cheek before turning to Anthony. “Brother.”

“Eloise.”

“Lord and Lady Colby will probably thank you in person,” she joked. “It’s been a while since the ton saw you two at a ball.”

“Leave them be Eloise,” Benedict said as Anthony grabbed two glasses and handed you one while he took a huge sip of the other. “Mother was looking for you.”

“I already danced with two suitors, I think she’s asking too much of me.”

“Go tell her that then, because she seems to have made me a target in your absence,” Benedict whined. “In fact, go tell her the golden couple is here, that’ll distract her.”

“Good idea.”

“Eloise, don’t—” Anthony started but she had already left. You took a sip of your drink, looking around.

“Are Elias and Cece here?”

“They will come but Cece was feeling sick earlier today,” Anthony said. “They’re probably running late.”

You pulled your brows together. “She’s sick?”

“Morning sickness, she says.”

“When were you going to tell me that?”

“Oh now you want to have a conversation?” Anthony asked back and Benedict looked between you two.

“…Is everything alright?”

“Great.”

“Wonderful, why do you ask?”

Benedict frowned, tilting his head but before he could say anything someone touched your arm, making you turn your head.

“Hugh, hello.”

“Good evening, may I talk to you for a moment?”

You nodded and stepped away from Anthony and Benedict, still feeling Anthony’s burning gaze on you. Hugh looked more impatient than you had ever seen him before, which was very surprising to you, because he always seemed calm and collected.

“What happened?”

“Listen, I don’t have much time,” he said. “I came to chaperone Abby and Edith but Edith wants to go home now so I’ll take them home and Cece and Elias are nowhere to be found.”

“They’re running late Anthony says.”

“Yeah probably—Ken told me about last night,” he said. “Just an hour before I came here I mean.”

You shifted your weight. “Yeah?”

“His name is Frederick Jennings?”

You nodded your head. “Yes.”

“Earl of Woodhall? You’re absolutely sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” you said. “My father said it before and he introduced himself last night. Why?”

Hugh clenched his teeth and looked over his shoulder to Edith who was calling his name, then turned to you.

“Tell Cece and Elias to find me,” he said. “No matter how late it is at night, alright? Tell them to come and talk to me at home.”

“Hugh, what’s—?” you started but he walked away from you and he and Edith left the ballroom, leaving you there completely confused. You downed your drink and grabbed another from the tray, and made your way back to Anthony and Benedict.

“What happened?”

“I have no idea,” you said and Benedict cleared his throat.

“I’ll just go and…exist somewhere else,” he said and made his way through the crowd, carefully dodging the ladies who were stealing glances at him and fanning themselves. Anthony shook his head slightly and sipped his drink while you turned to him to tell him you should go and say hello to his mother and the rest of the family, but before you got the chance to do so Anthony shot the couple who were making their way to you a forced smile, making you look at them.

Lord and Lady Colby.

“Oh if this isn’t our newly Viscountess Bridgerton, you look so beautiful!” Lady Colby said and you curtsied.

“Thank you Lady Colby, so do you.”

She waved a dismissive hand in the air. “I must admit that it’s a welcomed surprise,” she said. “We haven’t got the chance to see you two together out in the public in the evenings much.”

“They’re newlyweds, Margaret,” Lord Colby said and clasped Anthony by the shoulder. “Shall we leave the ladies to their conversation, Anthony? You should join us in the business room, I had a full box of cigars brought in from Spain recently, you must try one. Joseph swears it’s the best he has ever tried.”

“Go,” Lady Colby said. “Please. Leave me with your wife, I have a lot of questions to smother her with.”

“Oh you could never,” you assured her and Anthony chuckled.

“I’ll be right back, dearest,” he said as if everything was alright between you two, then pressed a kiss on the back of your hand and walked away from you with Lord Colby. You swallowed thickly, trying to ignore how the simple gesture had sent sparks from your hand to your whole body but managed to smile at Lady Colby.

“Thank you for the invitation Lady Colby.”

“Thank you for attending,” she said. “As I’ve said; you got many invitations since you two got back from your honeymoon that we were beginning to think you wouldn’t attend anything that took place in the evening, which…I’m sure I know the reason.”

A fire burned your face and you sipped your drink.

“I loved how your wedding gown looked by the way,” she said. “The ton says you had five different seamstresses?”

“Three,” you corrected her. “One for the wedding gown, one for the trousseau and one for the veil.”

“Now is it true that you’ve had your veil weaved with actual gold threads?”

You paused for a moment, then shook your head. “Uh…no. “

“Have you had the fabrics for your trousseau brought in from Paris? Because if so, I must ask you for the name of that shop.”

“I had a lot of shops that I liked back home—in Paris I mean,” you corrected yourself. “I could gladly give you the names.”

“Wonderful!” she said. “When can we expect your ball then?”

Ah.

That.

You had been so distracted by Anthony and your newly found marital bliss lately that it had almost escaped your mind you were to throw a ball. Now that you were Viscountess Bridgerton, everyone expected it and quite frankly, you were looking forward to it even before you were married.

“Right before the season ends,” you said. “Back in Paris we would…we would end every season with a beautiful ball, saying that it was our responsibility to say farewell to the season in the best way possible and I’ve decided to adapt that approach to the London social season as well. Before everyone goes back to the country side, we should have a grand ball in London that we will all enjoy immensely, no?”

“I love that!” she said, pressing a hand over her chest. “Any chance I can learn about the theme?”

You tilted your head. “Lady Colby, surely you must know how fond of surprises I am,” you said. “I can only assure you that it will be a ball worthy of waiting for.”

She let out a laugh. “Cannot blame me for trying. How about—”

She was cut off when the crowd around you started whispering and you turned your head to see what everyone was looking at, and as soon as your eyes fell on him your blood ran cold.

Frederick.

He took a look around him as he walked towards you, as if he was enjoying the attention and Lady Colby pulled her brows together when he reached you, and bowed.

“Ladies.”

“I’m not sure we’ve been introduced, Mr…”

“Frederick Jennings,” he introduced himself as your jaw clenched, that familiar fire burning in your chest. “Earl of Woodhall. You must excuse my intrusion my lady, but I’ve just come back to the city after a long time and wanted to see if the balls were as exquisite as I remembered them.”

“Oh of course, welcome Earl Woodhall!” she said. “It’s an honor. And what is your opinion if I may ask?”

“That they’re even better than before,” he said as you dug your fingernails into your palms, balling up your fists.

“This is Viscountess Bridgerton,” Lady Colby said and you tried to swallow the lump in your throat.

“We’ve been introduced before,” you said and Frederick had the audacity to smile at you.

“Viscountess,” he said. “Could I ask for a dance, perhaps?”

Oh he was doing this on purpose.

Even if you wanted to tell him to go to hell, a small part of you—the logical part of you, more likely—stopped you before you even opened your mouth. Your mother had taught you better than that; she had taught you that in order to defeat an enemy, you had to get to know them first.

And that was exactly what you were going to do.

You wanted him ruined, and you were going to make sure to do it yourself.

You bit inside your cheek hard enough to hurt, then raised your brows.

“You may,” you said, fixing your gloves before you placed your hand on his, the mere action making you feel sick to your stomach but you controlled your expression, then walked to the dancefloor with him.

Calm.

You had to remain calm and learn as much as you could.

“So, Viscountess Bridgerton,” he commented as you two started dancing. “Should I look out for any sharp objects during the dance?”

“Should I look out for any lies you might spread after the dance?”

He let out a chuckle. “Cassie taught you the art of conversation well,” he said. “Though after last night, I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re almost a replica of her, the same looks, the same fiery temper...”

Your fingers curled, as if your body was telling you to strangle him right there on the dancefloor but you took a step and turned as the dance required.

“Has she ever told you that temper of hers got her in trouble a lot, even when we were young?” he asked. “Her father once accused her of having hysteria, saying she was too angry for a young lady. He was saying it would go away after she got married but it did not.”

“No wonder she hated him,” you said. “And no. She never talked about him. Or you.”

His eyes snapped to yours and you shot him a smug smile.

“I’ve heard a lot about my father but not you,” you said. “Funny, you would think she would mention you but no. To be honest, the first time I heard of your presence was very recently.”

“Perhaps it was heavy on her heart.”

“No, I don’t think that’s the reason,” you said. “Father was heavy on her heart, so much that she talked about him on her deathbed, dreaming of him until her last breath.”

His teeth clenched, a shadow crossing his eyes.

“Not you though,” you continued. “She loved him until her death, but I doubt she even thought about your existence the whole time we were in Paris.”

He took in a breath through his clenched teeth.

“Cassie was rarely a rational person,” he commented. “She did not know what was best for her, I didn’t think that would change, wherever she was.”

“But you knew what was best for her?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Clearly. One could say I saved her.”

You raised your brows. “Oh you saved her?” you repeated. “How, exactly?”

“Cassie and Percy weren’t meant to be together,” he said. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this. They were like ice and fire—much like you and your husband as I’ve seen last night. They weren’t happy.”

“And you decided to take the matters into your own hands?”

“Your father betrayed me,” he stated. “I only paid back the favor. And Cassie was going to be happy with me if it weren’t for—”

“They were in love,” you cut him off. “She never so much as looked at another, neither has he. You were not even in the picture.”

“I think you’re blaming the wrong person here.”

“Do enlighten me,” you said. “Who should I blame then?”

“Your father,” he said and scoffed. “Yourself as well.”

You pulled your brows together. “Myself?”

“If it weren’t for you,” he said. “She could’ve been happy with me. A divorce is a scandal yes, but if it weren’t for that rumor, she would’ve been with me, we would’ve been somewhere else, away from all these rumors. She’d be able to put that behind her, I’d give her everything she wanted but you? Your presence muddled the picture.”

It felt as if someone was squeezing at your heart. This was nothing you hadn’t thought before, even prior to learning about Frederick’s existence. Up until your father explained everything, you had thought that if you weren’t born everything would have been better for your mother, or at least that they wouldn’t have got that divorce but now that you knew the whole story, you could see how that also complicated Frederick’s plans. He had started the rumor that she was unfaithful, but if it weren’t for you, after the divorce he still could have had the chance to try to be with her. Even when she had gotten pregnant with you, he still could have tried to marry her after the divorce—

Until the ton started that rumor of you being his child.

Your mother was never going to be with him. You knew that, with or without you, even before knowing he was behind those rumors, she never would have considered him, and after the rumors of him being your father started, any hopes he held to be with her had become impossible.

The version of her in his mind, as wrong as it was, still had one side that was true to the real her;

Any kind of involvement with him would have only made the ton think the rumors were true, and your mother would have died before letting that happen.

You raised your brows, your thoughts like a hurricane in your mind. This hadn’t been a fruitless attempt after all, now you knew more than before.

He hated your father yes, but he also hated you.

“You weren’t important enough to be an option, before or after the divorce,” you pointed out. “Perhaps you think otherwise because my mother was too soft hearted.”

He let out a bitter chuckle. “There are many ways to describe Cassie, soft hearted is not one of them.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I disagree. It’s quite clear that she was soft hearted.”

“Why?”

“You’re still alive.”

He paused only for a moment, then clicked his tongue.

“Yeah,” he muttered, more to himself. “Cassie’s temper. I’d say this night brings back the memories but there’s one small difference.”

The music started fading and you tilted your head.

“What’s that?”

“She trained you well,” he said. “Better than her own parents. She was perfect in every way but dancing I admit; you dance better than her.”

The other couples slowly stopped dancing as the music ended, some curtsying and bowing before leaving the dance floor and a calm smile pulled at your lips before you nodded

“You’d be wise to remember that, Earl Woodhall.” you said and Frederick blinked a couple of times.

“Remember what, Viscountess Bridgerton?”

You took a step towards him, your eyes locked in his.

“That I’m not as soft hearted as my mother,” you deadpanned, “And you’re dancing with me now.”

He pulled back slightly, a look of surprise crossing his face before he remembered to bow, but you didn’t even curtsy in return. Instead, you turned on your heels, ignoring the glances thrown your way as you walked away from him.

You had to appear to be calm even if you were seething in anger. You were more than aware of the whispers but you pretended not to hear them as you approached the refreshments table, desperate for some distraction.

But before you could even reach there, Anthony made his way through the crowd and grasped your wrist.

“A word, my dear wife?” he said through his teeth and led you to the entrance without even waiting for your answer. You could feel people staring as you both stepped out of the ballroom and passed the hallway to go out into the yard and it was only when you reached there that he let go of your wrist, turning around to look at you.

“What are you doing?”

You tilted your head. “Becoming the first paragraph of tomorrow’s Whistledown issue as we speak thanks to you,” you said. “What are you doing?”

He motioned in the direction of the house. “Y/N, why are you dancing with him?”

“Oh now you want to have a conversation?” you quoted him and he let out an exhale of disbelief, as if he was at the end of his patience.

“You need to stay away from him—”

“Why?” you cut him off. “Because you said so?”

“Because we know nothing about him!” his voice rose. “We have no idea what he’s capable of yet! You’re much smarter than this, what has gotten into you since last night?”

“Maybe not everything can be solved with your beloved logic.”

“And your solution is what exactly? Either stabbing him or getting close enough for him to hurt you?”

“It was one dance!” you insisted. “I’m allowed to dance with whomever I want and so are you—which I’m sure you’re very happy about.”

He pulled his brows in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Don’t say it. A little voice inside your head warned you. Don’t say it, you don’t mean that, don’t say—

“Where were you today?” the words left your lips before you had a chance to stop them, “The whole day?”

His frown deepened as if he didn’t understand the sudden change of topic, and he opened his mouth to retort but someone cleared their throat, making both of you turn your heads. Elias raised his brows, staring at you both.

“So I don’t know what this is about…” he motioned between you. “But I think you should know that a significant amount of people are more interested in looking out of the window than dancing at the ballroom right now.”

You stole a look at the house to see many people pretending to enjoy the view of the yard, some pulling back from the windows as soon as you turned your head, and you let out a bitter chuckle, shifting your weight as you clenched and unclenched your fists, desperate for some movement.

“I’m going home.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

Anthony paused for a moment, then nodded in the direction of the carriages.

“Fine, I’ll get the carriage ready.”

“No.” You shook your head. “I’m going to walk.”

“What?”

“I need to walk,” you insisted. “Alone.”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “You’re not walking home alone, Y/N.”

You gritted your teeth, anger rushing through you. “If you give me one more order I swear to God—”

“Hey!” Elias snapped his fingers. “To repeat, you’re in public!”

“Take the carriage,” Anthony said, then took a deep breath as if trying to calm down. “It’s not safe, alright? I’m not giving you any orders, I’m asking.”

“It’s a fifteen minute walk.”

“It’s also the middle of the night in case it has escaped your notice.”

“Alright, how about—” Elias said. “Y/N, I’ll walk you home. Anthony Cece is inside, keep an eye on her until I get back?”

Anthony stayed silent for a moment, as if considering it, then heaved a sigh. “Eli…”

“I know but you’re both angry and trust me, walking will be good for her,” he said and you scoffed, then started walking down the stone road.

It didn’t take Elias long to catch up with you and you both stepped outside to the street, then began sauntering in the direction of your house. The cool weather and being away from the constant chatter and music seemed to have helped you calm down just a little and Elias put his hands in his pockets, stealing a look at you.

You walked for a couple of minutes before the wind blew over you and Elias instantly dropped his jacket over your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you murmured and he rubbed at your arm, then pulled back.

“Do you want to talk?”

“About what?”

“About anything.”

You swallowed thickly and wiped at your nose, your throat tightening.

“Everyone seems to think otherwise for some reason but I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?” he asked back with a small smile. “Could’ve fooled me last night.”

“Elias…”

“I don’t know how it is in France but in here murder is usually frowned upon, especially if you know who did it.”

“So what then, he gets to…” you motioned with your hand, your voice cracking. “He gets to just come back, when mom couldn’t?”

“I didn’t say—”

“He ruined her life,” you insisted. “He doesn’t get to…he doesn’t get to just walk around like that.”

“I never said he would.”

You paused for a moment, turning to look up at him. “What?”

“Just because I can hide it better than you doesn’t mean I’m not angry,” he told you. “Of course he won’t get to walk around like that, we will not let it.”

“But—”

“But I’m not sacrificing you for revenge either,” he said. “And what you did last night? He’s not pulling you down with him Chérie. Whatever we do, it will hurt him and only him. Not either one of us.”

You nodded your head.

“I admit last night got a bit out of hand,” you said after a beat. “But I’m fixing it. I danced with him tonight to learn more about him, so that we can use it to our advantage, mother always said—”

“You danced with him?”

“Not you too,” you said through your teeth and Elias rubbed at his eyes.

“Fine,” he murmured. “What have you learned?”

“He hates father,” you said. “Which is not a huge shock, but he also hates me.”

“You?”

“He thinks I’m the reason mother didn’t go to him,” you said. “After divorce.”

“Mother would’ve never gone to him.”

“I know but he disagrees.”

Elias thought for a moment, then clicked his tongue.

“And tonight?” he said. “You and Anthony?”

You sniffled, that bitter taste appearing in your throat.

“We had a fight last night,” you murmured. “And since then he either…he either ignores me or tries to give me orders to control me—”

“I don’t think that’s what he’s doing actually,” Elias said. “I think he’s trying to control the situation while making sure you stay unharmed in all this.”

You scoffed a dry laugh. “Well, that’s better than my theory.”

“What’s your theory?”

Your eyes were burning with unshed tears but you managed to blink them back, then raised your brows as you approached the gates to the Bridgerton house before you turned around to lean back to them.

“That he might have stopped loving me last night.”

Elias blinked a couple of times before a laugh escaped from his lips, making you tilt your head.

“Sorry!” he said, covering his mouth with his hand and cleared his throat, trying to adapt a serious look. “That cannot be your theory.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s literally the most ridiculous theory that I’ve ever heard in my entire life?” he asked with a grin. “Every married couple has arguments, that doesn’t— he’s in love with you. Surely you know a stupid fight isn’t going to change that.”

You bit inside your cheek and his grin faded slightly.

“Chérie,” he said. “You know that, don’t you?”

You tried to smile, then took the jacket off and gave it to him.

“I just need some sleep and food I suppose,” you muttered. “I barely slept last night and didn’t eat much the whole day. Tell Cece I’ll see her tomorrow?”

“I will.”

“Oh, and—” you snapped your fingers. “Hugh wants to see you and Cece. About Frederick.”

“Hugh?” he repeated. “What does he have to do with that?”

“I have no idea. He was in a hurry but he wanted me to tell you that you and Cece need to go to his house, no matter how late it is. It sounded quite urgent.”

Elias thought for a moment.

“Alright, I’ll tell Cece,” he said and pressed a kiss on your forehead. “Eat something and get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You nodded and opened the gate. “Good night Elias.”

“Good night Chérie,” he said and you entered the garden, then made your way through the stone road and climbed up the marble stairs and knocked on the door.

“My lady,” the butler said as soon as he opened the door and bowed as you entered.

“Good evening Mr. Salford,” you said and he looked outside.

“Is Lord Bridgerton coming as well?”

“Oh he will come later. I have the worst headache so I decided to leave the ball early.”

The butler nodded slowly. “Would you like me to send some chamomile tea to your room my lady?”

“That would be lovely, thank you,” you said and made your way upstairs to get into your room. You heaved a sigh and flung yourself on the bed, pressing your hands on your eyes.

It was nonsense.

These doubts were nonsense, of course they were. Elias had a point, you and Anthony loved each other and your love was too strong to disappear after a fight.

Even if—

Even if after your first big fight, that incident at the opera had taken place.

You shook your head at yourself. It was a different time, both of you had gone through so much since then, and you knew he loved you, deep down you knew he wouldn’t betray you like that, but that wasn’t enough to silence the doubts in your mind.

You sat up in the bed as someone knocked on the door and you cleared your throat.

“Come in!”

The door opened and a young maid— Ethel, the girl Lucie had talked to you about today— stepped inside, carrying a tray.

“Good evening my lady, I brought your tea.”

You offered her a smile. “Thank you Ethel,” you said. “You can put it on the table.”

She carefully put the tray on the table before placing the teacup on the table as well, and pushed her hair behind her ear, pressing the tray over her stomach.

“And I…if I may, my lady,” she said. “I wanted to thank you for allowing me to watch and learn Lucie. I wish to improve myself and I am so grateful for the opportunity, I will not let you down.”

Your smile widened and you waved a hand in the air.

“My pleasure,” you said. “Don’t tell her I said this, but Lucie doesn’t just like anyone easily. She’s a great judge of character, and I’ve never seen her be mistaken on people’s talents. If she says you are a good candidate for the job, I’m sure she’s right.”

An excited giggle escaped from her lips and she shifted her weight, pushing her hair behind her ear again even if she didn’t need to.

“Let me or Mrs. Burchett know anything you might need in the meantime, I’ll personally make sure you get it,” you said and she nodded fervently, then curtsied in a haste.

“Thank you my lady.”

“Of course,” you said. “Have a nice night.”

“You too my lady,” she said and hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her. You pushed yourself off the bed and went to the table to grab the teacup, then took a sip, closing your eyes. The sound of horse hooves moving at a steady pace before coming to a stop reached you from the open window and you took another sip of your tea, then went to sit by the vanity. Taking a look at your reflection in the dim candlelight, you reached up to your bun to slowly take out the pins keeping it at place one by one.

When you pulled out the last one and set your hair free, you buried your fingers into your hair, massaging your scalp to get rid of the familiar tension at the roots. You made a face, then grabbed your earring to pull it off but before you could even do it, the door barged open, making you look over your shoulder.

“What did you mean?” Anthony demanded as he stepped inside, breathing hard as if he had just run there and you frowned, then scoffed a laugh.

“It’s my room in case it has escaped your notice,” you said. “Didn’t anyone teach you how to knock?”

“What did you mean, where I was the whole day?”

You gritted your teeth, that familiar fire beginning to burn inside your chest again before you turned to the mirror, pulling your earring from your earlobe.

“Can I not be curious about your whereabouts?”

“Don’t give me that, you and I both know what you were implying.”

“I don’t actually, but I’m sure you’re about to enlighten me,” you said as you took off the other earring as well and Anthony clenched his jaw.

“Y/N.”

“What?” your voice came out more tense than you intended, the pressure you had been feeling since last night slowly making itself known no matter how much you tried to keep it under control.

“If you want to ask me something, you should just ask.”

“I already asked, didn’t get an answer.”

“I was with Elias the whole day,” he said, his voice on edge. “Where did you think I was?”

“Why did you leave?”

“Answer the question.”

“You answer the question,” you growled back, getting up from the chair to take a step towards him, your eyes locked in his dark gaze. “I think I deserve to know the reason why I was left alone here, considering you’ve done nothing but ignoring me or giving me orders for the last twenty-four hours.”

“Oh I’m glad you mentioned that, what have you done for the last twenty-four hours other than throwing yourself into danger over and over again?” he asked you, making you let out a scoff.

“You and I have a different understanding of danger.”

“I’d say so; the difference is that you have no understanding of danger.”

Your jaw dropped, fury roaring through you. “Excuse me?”

“What if he tried to hurt you in that ballroom?” he snapped at you. “Hm? Have you ever thought about that? You tried to stab the man last night, what if he decided to do the same right there when I wasn’t looking?”

“He didn’t—”

“You don’t know that!” his voice rose, making you grit your teeth. “None of us do!”

You swallowed thickly and let out a breath, shaking your head.

“I’m not going to stand here and listen to this,” you spat, walking past him to the door but before you could even touch the handle he grabbed you by the arm and turned you around, your back hitting the wall. Your heartbeat sped up, desire shooting through you so fast that it made your head spin. It was as if everything was sharper now, and you couldn’t even tell lust from fury as you glared up at him, your breathing getting faster.

“Stop walking away from me,” his voice was nearly a growl and you narrowed your eyes, tilting your head to the side.

“Or what?”

The pause lasted only a second.

You had no idea who moved first, you just knew that somehow, your lips were locked in a kiss. The burn of desire was almost overwhelming, making you breathless and your mind fuzzy as he pressed you back to the wall, and your hands balling up to fists on his white shirt. You couldn’t even decide whether you were angry or aroused more, but your body seemed to have its own mind at this point as you bit down on his lip hard, making him hiss and pull back, his hand grabbing at your jaw to keep you in place. You ran your tongue over your canine teeth, a smirk appearing on your face as he touched his lip to check for blood before he raised his brows at you, his expression a mixture of amused and impressed.

“Cute,” he commented before he tilted your head up hard, but the last thing in your mind was complaining about it. He pulled you into a kiss, drawing a whine from you as you tried to unbutton his shirt without looking, but you were quite unsuccessful and frankly too impatient. You gripped at his shirt to yank it open, the buttons scattering somewhere in the room as he leaned down without breaking the kiss and picked you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist.

He walked to the bed and dropped you on top of it, his body covering yours in a second as he settled between your legs, then pulled apart the front of your dress, not even bothering to attempt to unlace it. The sound of the fabric ripping reached you before he threw the gown aside, leaving you in your corset and slip but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care about the gown. It was as if your body was moving on its own accord; you hesitated only for a moment before you pushed at him,making him fall back to bed so that you could straddle him. He raised his brows, almost surprised and you shot him a grin as you dragged your fingernails down his muscular chest.

“Ladies talk,” you commented with a shrug, making him let out a chuckle before you leaned in and locked your lips with his.

Chapter 44

#anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

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earthbaby-angelboy · 7 months

Note

when you reveal your regression to E is him figuring out where and how he can make you your very own TCB paci... because he was gonna give you a necklace or ring but now that you've revealed you're little, he thinks you'll love a paci more

a little TCB, a lotta TLC | little!reader x 70s!cg!elvis (wc: 1,394) - A/N: congratulations, your request will be the first full-length cg!elvis fic i've ever written. enjoy!

You had been with Elvis for quite a while now. He knew you like he knew his music; perfectly and imperfectly, for all its quirks and flaws and melodies. He knew when you’d want something at the store by the way your eyes would light up, and he knew that you’d get all shy and blushy when receiving gifts. There was, however, one thing he didn’t know about. The fuzziness that would occasionally overtake your sweet lil brain. Elvis was a caretaker by nature. He cared for everyone, if not in different ways. For the Mafia, he provided work. For his fans, he provided entertainment. But for you, he provided life. He gave you everything you could ask for emotionally, physically, and mentally. So, it only felt right that after having been in his life for such a long while, he deserved to know about your regression.

The discussion with him wasn’t intense. It was gentle and quick, the way you hoped it’d be. You sat him down in the Jungle Room, and explained that when you were overly happy or stressed, something would “click” in your brain and you’d feel like your head was filled with cotton; like you were a kid again. He asked a few questions here and there, but quickly caught on. You were just a kiddo, and as someone important in your life, he seamlessly stepped into the role of a caregiver.

Someday soon after, he was sitting in the den with Charlie and Jerry, two of his closest confidants. You had expressed to Elvis that there was a select few people he could clue-in to your regression, but you didn’t want anyone else knowing. And honestly, Elvis didn’t trust anyone but Charlie and Jerry with the preciousness that was your regression. Tonight, the TV was playing quietly, but where he would usually be shouting at the stupid antics of the people on whatever drama was on, he was silent. The other two men in the room exchanged a glance, and before they could say anything, Elvis spoke.

“Boys, either of ya know a guy who could make somethin’ for me?” “You’re gon’ have to get more specific than that, EP. What ‘somethin’ are we talkin’ bout?” Jerry responded, as Charlie looked on inquisitively.

Elvis sighed. “I don’ really know. I wanna get my baby somethin’, somethin’ TCB. Y’all got the rings and necklaces and such, but I don’ think a lil thing like her wants a gold chain.” He ended with an exasperated laugh.

Charlie’s eyes darted back and forth for a moment before he piped up. ‘Well, you said she usually drops young. How bout’ a pacifier?”

And with that, the idea was born. Elvis wanted to call his jeweler, and have him encrust the pacifier with diamonds and put a garishly large white-gold TCB logo in the middle. After some sketching and a bit of arguing, the guys had convinced him to get you one more age-appropriate, and less lavish. While Charlie and Jerry gave their two cents, it was Elvis that made the final call. He decided on a dark blue pacifier, with pearls and sapphires adorning the edges. The middle had a small, sterling silver TCB logo, and the handle read LOVER DOLL in pink and blue letters.

He wanted to do an elaborate event that would end with him giving you the pacifier, but instead decided to do something more your style. He picked a Tuesday morning, and gave the entire staff the day off. The only people in the mansion were you, and him.

He would usually get up a while after you did, giving you apt time to prepare for the day. However, last night he helped you (unknowingly) pick a blue and white dress that matched the theme of your pacifier. With that, you chose a white bow, some frilly socks, and a pair of your favorite mary-janes. By the time you had finished up this morning, Elvis was already downstairs with breakfast all layed out. Running down the stairs, you noticed him sitting at the head of the table, a cup of coffee in one hand and the newspaper in the other. The windows were cracked to let in some fresh air, and the sunlight was so perfectly placed behind Elvis that it made him look like there was a halo floating above him.

It was almost comedic, the domestic little life that the biggest entertainer in the world had created for you.

Skipping over to where he sat, you gave him a peck on the cheek. “Mornin’ daddy! How’d ya sleep?”

You asked sweetly as you sat down at the table and smoothed out your dress, a plate of your favorite breakfast already waiting for you. Grabbing a piece of toast and shoving it in your mouth, you looked over at him with wide eyes. He put down his newspaper, and looked at you. He paused for a moment, a smile creeping up to his eyes, and responded, “I slept well, baby.”

You looked at him curiously, but nodded and continued on with your breakfast anyway. Usually, mornings were busy and full of energy. The maids would run around preparing the mansion for the coming day, members of the Mafia would be howling with laughter or arguing over which girl they would get, and Elvis would fill you in on his (and your) plans for the day. This morning, Graceland was silent with the exception of Chuck Berry’s record spinning quietly in the background. The two of you sat in quiet for another couple minutes, until you started to become antsy. Was your daddy mad at you? Did you do something wrong? Did he just need alone time? You decided to break the silence.

You looked over at him, and were a bit surprised to see that he was staring at you with a fond expression on his face. You furrowed your eyebrows and asked, “Daddy…you okay?”

He tilted his head, but didn’t break away from looking at you. “Oh yeah, honey, daddy’s alright. Just can’t believe how lucky I am to have a lil’ dolly like you.” You looked away from him, a small smile on your face. It wasn’t odd for the two of you to have sweet moments such as these, but it was the lack of craziness in the mansion that gave you the idea Elvis may have had something planned.

Shaken out of your thoughts, you looked back to at your carer to see him pulling out a baby blue box from underneath the table. “Sweetheart, you remember how I kept askin’ ya about what lightnin’ jewelry you wanted?” (You had decided that TCB felt too formal, so ‘lightning’ became a nickname for the abbreviation.)

You took a sip of your juice and nodded. “Well…yeah? But you know I don’ want no fancy jewelry…m’ too small for all that.” You said the last part quietly, but of course your daddy heard it.

“I know, yittle. Which is why I had this made.”

He slid the box gently towards you, and you straightened up a bit. Even after all the time you’d been with Elvis, you never grew accustomed to his generosity with gifts. But, for some reason your mind couldn’t grasp, this felt different. You weren’t anxious, but you were instead filled with a hopeful curiosity. Maybe it would be a new bow, or the plushie you’d asked for, or- and before you could get to the next possibility, your hands were opening the box.

Inside, the pacifier.

You stared at it for a moment with a blank look on your face, and then your eyes grew wide with excitement. You jumped right out of your seat, turned to Elvis, and flung your arms around his shoulders. "Thank you, thank you, thank you Daddy! It's so pretty! And it matches my dress, how perfect! Thank you!"

Elvis gave a soft laugh, and tilted his head up to give you a kiss on the cheek. "I'm happy you like it baby, but you gotta be careful! Can't be squeezin' daddy like a ketchup bottle, cause then he won't be able to give ya more of those pretty lil' pacifiers!"

You paused from your hug, and looked down at him. "...You made more?"

"...Shit." "DADDY!"

#elvis presley #70s!cg!elvis #cg elvis presley #elvis agere #this may or may not have been directly inspired by a paci i had custom made...#:)#send an ask if yall want pics #i havent written anything solid in MONTHS so i apologize if this sucks #anyway #love yall xx

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