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nikethestatue · 3 years ago

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Name Day

Thanks to @tswaney17 for the inspiration and the idea! Sometimes this is what happens one afternoon when we start thinking of Azriel��s and Elain’s baby’s names.

Her whimsical tale of Elain’s and Bryaxis’ friendship can be found here It’s a good prep for this story

This is the continuation of my Azriel and Elain’s baby story The Depth of Your Eyes which can be found here

No warnings. Fluff and babies.

Name Day

“Will you calm down?” Nesta asked. She was shaking her head, wearing nothing but a satin slip, as she was brushing her hair.

“I am down!” Cassian retorted, eyeing himself in the mirror, smoothing his hair.

“You’d think you are a maid on your first courting,” muttered Nesta, as she began to braid her hair slowly, amused by her mate, as he preened before the mirror.

“I want to look appropriate,” he explained. “We are Guardians. It’s an important position.”

“Yes, I know. But this is the fifth or sixth shirt that you’ve tried on. We are coordinating colours. Your outfit is all ready and waiting and I don’t understand why you are fussing so much,” she slid on the bed and cooed to the baby, who was observing all this commotion with quiet amusement.

“Gods, he is a puffball,” it was Cassian’s turn to shake his head, watching the baby in the reflection of the mirror.

“He is a little fatty,” Nesta agreed, “but he is already dressed and ready to go. While you…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cassian looked at the shirt that Nesta had selected and began re-dressing for the fifth time today. “Do we still not know the name?”

She shrugged. “No.”

He proposed, “what if it’s something really strange?”

Nesta rolled her eyes slightly, as she slipped into her powder-blue velvet and lace gown, and approached her mate, her bare back turned to him. He began buttoning her up, without her prompting, while kissing her neck gently.

“He is watching,” she reminded him, but her eyes closed and she stroked his cheek, as her head lay on his shoulder.

“He is a baby.”

“He is Azriel’s baby,” she noted. “He is always watching!”

Cassian huffed in agreement. Azriel’s baby did indeed watch everything and everyone with interest and calm assertion, as if planning a strategy in his head. He reclined in some bouncy contraption, his short arms thick with multiple folds, and resting contently on his round belly. For a month-old infant, he sure looked like he was about six months at least. And not only because of his impressive heft, but also his scrutinizing gaze, that floated from object to person, taking in every detail.

Cassian cupped Nesta’s bottom in his wide palm and squeezed lightly,

“You want to…” he murmured hotly in her ear and she screeched in response, “Noooo! Are you insane? We are not doing that in front of our baby nephew.”

“We can turn him around,” Cassian suggested, unrelenting.

“Get dressed!” she snapped.

Cassian offered a petulant sigh in response and she stepped out of his arms, while he began buttoning his own shirt.

“So, no name?”

“How complicated can it be?” she pondered, stretching on the bed, and offering a rattle to the baby, who wasn’t hugely entertained by it, but took it nevertheless. “He is Elain and Azriel’s son. They are not…They are not you,” she added at last.

“What about me?”

“Well, they are not going to name him Stormwind Lightning Strike Archeron. Or Fireheart Blazing Ruby Archeron,”

“Both,” he interrupted her quickly, snapping his fingers, “are excellent names! I am putting them on the list.”

“No list!”

“Yes, they go on the list,” he insisted.

“You know,” she stroked her nephew’s soft black curl on top of his round head, “it will be something elegant and simple. Oren. Lorien. Rivendell… Something like that.”

“Boring,” huffed Cassian, finally slipping into his trousers.

At first, he wanted to go to the ceremony in full armour, to bring his nephew into the ‘warrior spirit’ right away, according to him. Elain gently suggested that perhaps, that’s a little much for a baby naming ceremony.

The door to Nesta’s River Manor opened quietly and Azriel slipped in.

“What’s boring?” he asked with a smile. Especially when his baby boy almost leapt from his bouncy seat at the sight of him. “Hello, my love,” he whispered, sitting on the bed and immediately kissing the baby’s little fist. “I’ve missed you already…Mama is still getting dressed. And she is going to be the most beautiful mama in the world,” he glanced at Nesta, “well, I mean,”

Nesta smiled and waved her hand dismissively, “She will be. Besides, I am not a mama,”

“Not yet,” piped Cassian quickly.

“Not yet a mama,” she agreed peacefully, “so Elain can claim the title.”

She observed the normally cool, composed, detached shadowsinger absolutely disintegrate in front of his son into a puddle of loving coos, belly rubs and kisses. She’d seen him soft and loving and gentle with Elain, which was an unusual sight in itself, but this was something else entirely.

“So, what’s boring?” Azriel remembered, as he rocked the baby against his chest.

“The name…Are we ever going to find out?” Cassian inquired, tightening his belt and looking at Azriel. “As Guardians, don’t you think we should know?”

“Oh, and you think my baby’s name will be boring?” Azriel cocked his brow.

“Well, it’s not going to be Thunderheart Powerwarrior,” muttered Nesta under her breath.

“I didn’t say that,” Cassian argued quickly.

Azriel gave him a measured look and then offered a resigned sigh, “I suppose you should know,”

“What is it?” exclaimed Cassian eagerly, rubbing his hands. Nesta perked up as well, “Yes, what is it?”

“Bryaxis,” said Azriel calmly, kissing his son’s cheek.

Cassian paled.

Nesta blanched.

“Are you fucking nuts?” groaned Cassian, a terrified expression on his face.

Nesta, who stood near him, elbowed him, muttering, “stop cursing in front of an infant!”

“An infant that these deranged parents want to name Bryaxis!” bellowed Cassian.

Then, Cassian stepped forwards and extended his arms, “No. No. Give me the baby!”

“Why?” Azriel pressed his son a little closer.

“No. You cannot be trusted with a child!” growled Cassian, his eyes blazing, “Absolutely not! Pfff,” he huffed loudly, “Bryaxis! Bryaxis!”

He was then almost speechless, just shaking his head silently, giving Nesta wild looks.

“Umm,” she interjected quietly, “are you sure?” she looked imploringly at Azriel. This was a shock indeed. What in the seven hells were they thinking?

“You know Bryaxis is Elain’s friend,” reminded them Azriel, a smile playing on his lips. “So, we thought,”

“No,” snarled Cassian. “Give me the kid! Right now,”

“Are you going to run away with him?” inquired Azriel.

“If I have to. If I must save him and keep him away from you two crazies, then yes!”

“He is still my son,”

“Not anymore. Not when you decided to name him Bryaxis!”

“But Bryaxis is a,”

“Shut up, Az,” Cassian visibly shuddered at the memory.

He never did accept Elain’s friendship with the monster that was Fear itself. Never understood how she willingly went to the depths of Library to chat with the Darkness and allowed it to roam the gardens of her villa. Thankfully, it was secluded enough not to have Bryaxis terrify everyone in sight.

“He is your neighbour,” reminded him Azriel with a chuckle. “He actually lives in your house!”

“Hey, it’s not because I invited him!” argued Cassian. “If you want it, you can have it, and it can live in your house! Since your wife is such good friends with it.”

The door was thrown open after a sharp knock and Mor appeared on the doorstep, “What is the delay?!!” she demanded by way of her greeting.

Before anyone could respond, she ordered, “Come on! Let’s go! Everyone is waiting,”

Azriel handed the baby to Nesta, and whispered something in her ear.

“Please don’t run away with my child,” he begged his brother.

Cassian begged, “Please don’t name your child Bryaxis! Az, ple-“

But Azriel disappeared in a swirl of his shadows.

It was a lovely, sunny morning. The emerald green lawn of the River Estate was set up with benches and chairs, which were decorated with ribbons and the colours of the Night Court and Azriel’s cobalt blue.

The small group of guests were seated, informally, around a gazebo that was made of branches and decorated with garlands of blue flowers of every colour and hue. Azriel and Elain stood there, hand in hand, waiting for the Guardians to bring the baby forth.

At last, Cassian and Nesta appeared, Cassian holding an Illyrian shield, which was draped in Azriel’s baby blanket. Somehow, Azriel’s mother kept the simple, worn thing all these years, patching it over the centuries, to keep it presentable just for this occasion. Upon the shield, the baby lay, tugging on his feet, trying to roll over the edge, and being barely contained by his nervous aunt.

At last, Cassian and Nesta stopped under the gazebo. Cassian’s eyes were pleading with a silent lament, looking at his brother.

He didn’t hear half of what Rhys was saying. The baby was being welcomed into the fold of its people, as a citizen and son of the Night Court, as an Illyrian warrior, and as a son and protector of his people. Nesta finally grabbed the future ‘protector of his people’ off the damn shield, before he could tumble onto the grass below.

Cassian mutely shook his head, giving Azriel a death stare.

Once a bit of honey was dabbed onto the baby’s lips—for a sweet life—Feyre asked,

“Who names this child?”

“We do,” said Elain and Azriel in unison.

“What name will the child carry?” asked the baby’s grandmother.

With a heavy sight, Cassian joined Nesta’s hand in covering the baby’s head and then,

“Elessar Ramiel,” said Nesta loudly.

Cassian’s eyes blew wide. He whipped his head to Azriel and Elain, who were trying to stifle their laughter, shaking soundlessly against each other, looking at him.

Under the shield, he flashed both of them a vulgar gesture.

Well, at least it wasn’t Lanthys.

“Elessar Ramiel Archeron,” Cassian then repeated loudly alongside Nesta.

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