#thank you elaine <3

[fallevs]

Forget about comments on ao3, the new frontier of beauty is handwritten comments! The commitment!!! The will to do it, above all!!! Oh my god, I am loving this so so so much and it has totally improved my day. Thank you my dear friend @nicoise <3

about this crazy little story

[clockwork-ashes]

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XX

Find all previous parts on Ao3 :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge thank you to the lovely @sad-scarred-sassy who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :) Another huge thank you to everyone reading! ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere / @the-darkestminds /

The lovely hand-held mirror fell from Lucien’s small fingers, the emeralds on the hilt flashing in the torchlight as it crashed to the stone floors. 

Shattered. 

The pieces of glass around his booted feet winked as he looked down at them. He felt tears burning suddenly behind his eyes, and he swallowed, fighting back a sob with great effort. 

Lucien might have been young, but he knew what it meant to break a mirror. Seventy years of misfortune, he recalled, breathing in sharply at the memory of his older brothers telling him as much. 

He took a quick step back, hearing a crunch that set his heart beating at a faster pace. His parents would not be happy with him, he thought, his father most of all. He had been strictly forbidden from going into their shared chambers, but Lucien cared very little for rules, especially as they usually did not apply to him. 

Some of his older brothers called him spoiled, mother’s favourite, without responsibilities. His other brothers called him lucky, allowed to do as he pleased, and able to get out of trouble and avoid father’s moods with the flash of an embarrassed smile. 

Small for his age, and mostly left alone, Lucien found himself panicking at the thought that either of his parents might be disappointed. 

He focused on the mess he had made, pushing all thoughts of misfortune from his mind and bringing his magic to the tips of his fingers. A flash of golden light cleaned up all the small pieces, the dusting of crushed mirror around his feet disappearing quickly, but he struggled to do the same with the large shards of glass. 

Lucien rushed to pick them up, carelessly grabbing the last one, hissing in pain and nearly dropping it. He had cut his hand, feeling as though his bad luck had already begun. 

Lucien’s hand was still bleeding, tears streaking down his face, as he knocked frantically on his eldest brother’s bedroom door. He had managed to clean up all the mirror pieces, had thrown away all the glass and taken the frame to hide in his closet, but the handkerchief he held to his palm had turned scarlet. 

Lucien heard footsteps on the other side of the oak door and sighed in relief knowing that Eris was home. He trusted his eldest brother more than anyone and knew that he would not tell the others about the broken mirror. 

As the door swung open, the hinges screaming, Lucien threw himself into the room. Clinging to Eris’ leg, he sobbed once and choked as he held back more tears.

“What’s happened?” Eris snapped, voice angry, a concerned edge to it. He placed a gentle hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, a sharp contrast to the tone he used. “Lucien, what’s wrong?” 

With wide eyes, Lucien tilted his neck all the way back to look up at him. “I broke mama’s mirror,” he admitted. He held tightly to the fabric he had quickly wrapped around his palm, pulling away from Eris to show him the blood. 

Eris seemed to relax slightly, shoulders no longer tense, as he knelt down to Lucien’s height. He hummed in response, “Causing trouble now that mother and father are in Spring?” 

“I didn’t mean to,” Lucien rushed to explain as Eris used magic effortlessly to have a damp cloth appear in his large hand. “I was just—”

Eris wiped the tears from Lucien’s cheeks gently, pushing back loose curls as he did so. “You’re not supposed to go in there,” he interrupted.

“I know, I know,” Lucien hoped Eris was not disappointed. “I was just so bored and didn’t want to bother the others,” he admitted in a mumble. 

Eris sighed, the torches growing brighter. “Let me see the cut.” 

Lucien placed his small hand into Eris’s much larger one. Cringing as his older brother pulled away the fabric, clenching his eyes shut tightly in worry. 

“Open your eyes, Lucien,” Eris said, amusement lining the words. When he was met with a nervous shake of Lucien’s head, he repeated himself, tone softer this time. 

Lucien opened one, just a slit to peek through. He saw Eris raise an auburn brow, encouraging him to look at the cut. “Oh,” he breathed, witnessing with great interest as the skin knit itself back together. 

“Grandmother was from Xian before she came to Autumn,” Eris said, and Lucien wondered if he was about to tell a story. Eris was not the best storyteller in their family, but with the Lady of Autumn in Spring and Callum at the war camps near the Winter border, Lucien figured Eris would be good enough in their absence. “Faeries would arrive to her on death’s door, and with a small wave of her hand she would send them on their way, better than before,” he continued. “She could heal anything.”

“Anything?” Lucien asked rather sceptically. He was finding it hard to believe since he had never met the female. The Lady of Autumn had no family, and he knew from those at court that they had all been killed in the war with Hybern. 

Eris nodded, the short strands of hair by his shoulders looking like copper in the dim light of the room. “Anything but a broken heart, they say.” 

At his older brother’s words, Lucien remembered the mirror. “Eris, I’ve been cursed,” he felt his lip quivering and he bit the inside of his cheek to make it stop. He tugged on the expensive fabric of Eris’ coat with his healed hand.

“By who?” Eris asked, although Lucien could tell he did not quite believe his claim. 

“I broke a mirror,” he said softly. “That’s seventy years of misfortune, remember?” 

He watched as Eris flashed him a small smile. Rare as a red moon, Lucien always felt a strange sense of triumph when he got his eldest brother to smile. Ruffling his hair, Eris reassured him. “Those are just ridiculous stories that mothers tell their sons so they won’t go on breaking their mirrors.” 

When Jesminda had been killed, Lucien’s thoughts had returned to that day. For whatever reason, he continued to reflect on the distant memory as he walked towards his father’s study. 

Lucien had woken up to find Elain pressed against him, and when he went to move, it only seemed to encourage her to hold onto his arm. Her hair had been fanned across the pillows, curls covering her eyes. She had made a soft noise as he had shifted. He had been torn between staying with her, or obeying his father’s order from the day before. 

In the end, he had simply left Elain a note, the pull of the bond a steady ache as he had cast a final glance in her direction and had shut the door to their shared suite. 

Lucien was dragged out of his memories and any thoughts of his mate by the sound of wood crashing against stone. He had been so absorbed by his own past, that he failed to realise just how close he had gotten to the High Lord’s study. 

Lucien paused as Eris walked past the stone arch, slamming the door behind him, embers falling to the ground like leaves on a rough wind. He leaned heavily against the wall for a moment in defeat, and Lucien thought he must be truly distracted to have not yet noticed a grown male standing mere steps away. 

The iron scent of blood had Lucien wincing as he watched Eris drag a beringed hand across his mouth, a scarlet streak cutting across the pale skin of his cheek. 

“Eris, what happened?” Lucien asked softly, not wanting to draw their father’s attention. 

At the question, Eris stiffened, shoulders drawn back, he shook his head. “Nothing,” he snapped. 

Lucien waved a hand in his brother’s direction, raising a sarcastic brow in response. “Really?”

“Nothing that concerns you,” Eris said with a scowl as blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, staining the white collar of his shirt. He moved to shove past Lucien, but was met with an arm blocking his path. 

“You alright?” Lucien questioned, frowning at the shock that briefly flashed in his brother’s eyes. He wondered at the last time someone had cared to ask Eris such a thing. 

Lucien felt as the tense muscles beneath his grip loosened at the words. Their eyes met, and golden flames dimmed, returning to a sharp amber. The loud click his own eye made was thunderous in the heavy silence. 

Eris nodded once, dipping his chin, gazes locked. “I’m fine,” he offered. “Nothing you need to worry about.” He had never sounded more ancient. 

Lucien did not believe him, but he was not going to argue. Letting his hand fall to the side, Lucien turned to watch Eris walk away, but his older brother did not look back before he winnowed from the hall, the torches flaring with the burst of magic. 

Lucien stared at the empty space for a moment, deciding he would ask Elain to check on him. They seemed to be getting along well, and he figured she might have an easier time pulling the truth from him. He quickly pushed all thoughts of Eris aside and focused once more on the task at hand. 

As he approached the door to his father’s study, Lucien took a steadying breath. Just as he could feel panic crawling up his spine, he was surprised at the wave of calm that crashed over him. From the golden thread at his rib, it slowly fanned outwards, a comfort. 

Lucien raised his fist, knocking three times, listening carefully for the response on the other side. 

“Come,” his father’s low voice responded, muffled by the thick oak. The door opened easily on a phantom wind, noiseless. 

Lucien bowed at the waist as soon he entered, the movement practised, respect in the face of the High Lord before him. Beron nodded in acceptance, setting aside the old looking parchment in his hands. He took off a pair of gold rimmed glasses and placed them on the hand drawn maps he had laid out on the desk. 

“Good morning, Lucien.” He tilted his head to the chair on the other side of the large desk. 

Lucien was glad for the obstacle between them, the little bit of distance. “Father,” he said, watching for any reaction from the male in front of him. 

“I hope the time you and your mate have spent in our court has been enjoyable.” His expression was serious, a neutral mask with no cracks. 

Lucien nodded, keeping his answer short. “Yes, thank you.” 

Beron hummed in response. “I have not seen your mate in the gardens again,” he observed. 

Lucien nearly snarled that Elain would not be returning to the courtyard, but he pushed down the initial instinct. Instead he frowned, “I asked her not to go again, so as not to disturb you, father.” The last word fell like a stone between them, accusing. 

An emotion flashed in Beron’s dark eyes, looking to Lucien very much like regret. “She’s a nice girl,” he shrugged, the action smooth. “You and Elain Archeron are a good match.” 

Perhaps if his father had suggested as much a few days ago, Lucien would have had to fight back a wince. Now that trust had slowly bloomed between Elain and him, an honest friendship growing, he could only nod. 

They looked at each other a moment, Lucien searching the harsh lines of his father’s face as he had done countless times as a child. They had not looked alike then, his mother’s son in appearance and never in a position to contend for Autumn’s throne. 

Beron sighed as his eyes fell to the scar that slashed across Lucien’s face. “I had wanted to go over some of the wedding preparations with you, but I will unfortunately be occupied for the rest of the day.” Waving a hand in dismissal, he ended their conversation. “Find your mother, she can finalise everything with your mate.” 

Lucien felt numb, as though he had fallen through ice and been plunged into the waters beneath. There was one more week left before the wedding ceremony. He left the room, bowing slightly, mind elsewhere. He walked with slow steps back to the chambers he and Elain shared. 

Lucien turned his father’s words over and over in his mind, that Elain and him made a good match. He felt a pull towards her, wanted to be near her, and he wondered if it was the effects of the bond, or simply because he was drawn to Elain. 

You are mine, and I am yours. 

Lucien decided he needed a break from the Forest House, and he would ask to see if Elain would like to come with him. 

[lucienarcheron]

Spirit Meets the Bones 12.5 [Bonus Scene]

Author’s Note: This bonus scene would take place around the beginning of chapter 12 as Eris x Iris have started to get to know each other and spend more time together.

shoutout of @abruisedmuse ily for letting me get all SMTB brainrot on you <3

tagging: @climb-the-mountian | @vanserrass | @positivewitch | @readthelastpaage | @zenkindoflove | @animezinglife | @clockwork-ashes | @stormycleric | @eastofatlanta | @carolynmezzosoprano | @carnythian | @runningwiththeoceans | @readychilledwine | @goldenmagnolias | @thedarkinmansfield | @mali22 | @maidr-00 | @electromagnetic-waves | @theeternalstruggle | @devilsfoodcake22 | @the-midnightwriter | @moonfawnx | @weesablackbeak | @ladywhilemia | @illyrianshadowhunter | @alohaangels | @moobell55 | @bibliophiliaxvignette | @easchies | @feysandfeels | @thelovelymadone | @corcracrow | @aboggoblin | @teddyhoneybear

Find it all here.

Eris cleared his throat and breathed deeply before plastering a smirk on his face and knocking on his little brother’s front door.

It took a moment before Lucien opened the door with a blink and then quirked his brow.

“Eris.”

“Lucien.”

“To what do I owe this great pleasure, brother of mine?” Lucien asked as he stepped aside and gestured for Eris to step in.

“As much as I cherish seeing your adorable little face, I’m actually here for your wife.” Eris said, the corner of his mouth turning up. “Elain?!”

Lucien closed the door behind them with an eye roll and followed his brother. “She’s in the garden out back,” he replied dryly. “What do you need from her? Having more wife troubles?”

Eris paused, causing Lucien to knock into him, and turned to glare at his little brother. “I don’t have wife troubles. I would simply like to see my little sister and discuss with her how she’s doing.”

“And ask her about your wife troubles.”

Eris’s glare intensified. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

Lucien only smiled. “Pillow barricade still there?”

“The thing you speak of doesn’t exist.”

“Ah, that means it’s still there,” Lucien said, nodding knowingly. “She’s not wooed by your endless charms?”

“She is wooed just fine,” Eris mumbled, scowling. “Mind your business. You’ve barely been mated. Need I remind you of your pining, little brother?”

“Need I remind you that it was mutual and how we’ve been happily mated and married for two years already, big brother?” Lucien replied with an easy smile. “Just admit you’re a terrible husband with no game and I’ll be more than happy to help you.”

“I don’t need your help, you fool,” Eris said with a light shove. “Your mate is the smarter one of you both so if, and this is a big if, I needed assistance with the so-called wife troubles, which I do not have, I would ask Elain.”

Lucien’s mouth slowly turned into a smirk, and then he snorted. “Wow, you must be really terrible in bed.”

It was Eris’s turn to roll his eyes. “It took you two years to get your mate to even talk to you but now you have the nerve to talk about my bedroom skills.”

“You keep deflecting, big brother,” Lucien said with a sigh. “As if you don’t know the exact circumstances of my mate and I. You, on the other hand, must truly be terrible in the bedroom and outside of it for your wife troubles to be this severe. Your visits have increased, I see.”

Eris scoffed. “So? I can’t visit unless I need something? Do you want me to stop visiting?”

“Couldn’t stop you even if I tried,” Lucien said with a laugh. “But we both know you don’t miss me as much as you miss Elain — which I don’t appreciate.”

“Are you jealous of your wife because I like her more than I like you, brother dear?” Eris said with a sarcastic smile.

Lucien rolled his eyes. “No, I just don’t see why she has to deal with your whining constantly. Go whine to your own wife.”

Eris’s smile immediately turned into a scowl as the tip of his ears heated. “Leave my wife out of this.”

“And you wonder why my immediate assessment is how terrible you must be in the sack.” Lucien said with a snort then held up a hand before Eris could reply and asked him with his most serious expression, “You…do know where the clitoris is, right?”

A heartbeat passed and Eris did the only logical thing he could think to do — swing his fist at Lucien’s face.

Lucien ducked with a laugh. “Are you truly swinging at me in my own home?”

“I will break your nose if you say anything else that’s stupid.” Eris seethed.

“You sure your hand will handle punching me? It must be so hard on you after all your alone time. I’m surprised your hand isn’t constantly cramping.”

“I’m sure you’re very familiar with what a cramping hand and limp dick must be like since you had to deal with it for so long.”

Lucien grinned. “I never said anything about a limp dick but now you’re really pulling my sympathies, Eris. Your situation is far worse than I had predicted.” he said and with a most sincere expression, Lucien put a hand over his heart and added, “I’m so sorry for your condition, brother. I’m sure a healer can help.”

Eris snarled and before Lucien could stop him, pulled him in a headlock that quickly turned into Lucien ramming his fist into Eris’s side which would have turned into a downright brawl had light footsteps not entered the room and a throat cleared.

Eris and Lucien both froze, their limbs intertwined as they turned their heads to find Elain standing with hands on her hips and a raised brow.

“Really?” was all she asked then gestured with her hand, exasperated. “Untangle yourselves. Now.”

Shooting each other a glare, the two brothers shoved away from each other.

“Ugly git.”

“Slimy asshole.”

“Rude behavior.” Elain added and held out her hands. “Every time? Every single time?”

“Your husband is very rude.”

“He was being mean to me!”

Elain rolled her eyes. “You’re both mean to each other. I thought we talked about this, hm? Got past it?”

“He talked about my wife!”

“Lucien!” Elain scolded.

“He made fun of our two years of pining!”

“Eris!”

“You walked right into that one, Lucien.”

“You’re the one that started talking about limp dicks, Eris.”

Elain blinked then glanced up towards the ceiling. “Grant me patience, gods,” she mumbled. “Lucien, weren’t you in the middle of something?”

“Yes, I was, my love. I merely wanted to give my big brother a warm welcome,” he said with a grin that Eris responded to with a glare. “Make yourself right at home, limp dick. I can’t wait to give Iris my sympathies in person soon.”

“Oh fuck you.” Eris replied and glared at Lucien’s back as he leaned down to kiss Elain then waltzed out of the room, his middle finger waving goodbye from the air.

“Why are you married to him again?” Eris mumbled as Elain gave him a knowing look and walked over to him.

“Because he has great hair.” she replied with a smile and promptly wrapped her arms around his waist in a tight hug.

“Great hair doesn’t make up for how annoying he is,” Eris replied even as a small smile found its way to his lips, and hugged his little sister in return, squeezing her tight. “How are you, little acorn?”

“Is everyone little to you?” she said with a laugh and pulled away to look at him. “Little acorn, little Lucien, little gazelle?”

At the knowing look Elain gave him, Eris’s shoulders slumped, and he sighed. “I...am having a hard time.”

Elain blinked innocently. “A hard time? I thought it was the opposite problem you were having?”

Eris scowled immediately and Elain giggled. “Your mate is a terrible influence.”

“We both know who the real terrible influence is,” she said with a grin then tugged on his elbow. “Come on back to the garden so we can discuss this in private.”

“You say private when Lucien clearly knows too much already,” Eris mumbled and let Elain drag him outside. “You said you wouldn’t tell him anything.”

“To be fair, I don’t have to tell him. He’s picked up on it and despite the aggressively childish behavior between you two, he cares about you a lot,” she said with a chuckle. “He likes to check in and make sure you’re okay.”

“Or just make fun of me,” Eris grumbled. “He listens in from some open window, doesn’t he?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Elain said brightly and gestured for him to take a seat by the garden.

Eris sulked momentarily, watching as Elain slipped her gloves back on. He pursed his lips and debated saying anything. It wasn’t like anything major had happened. But…

“So.” Elain began carefully, eyeing him. “Did you find out what her favorite flowers are?”

“Carnations. She likes them all but red ones are her favorite.”

Elain blinked then gave him a sly smile. “Do you know what red carnations symbolize?”

“It’s the color of my blood soaking the pillow when she slits my throat.” He deadpanned and Elain shot him a withering look.

“Could you not?”

Eris gave a long-suffering sigh. “What does it mean, Elain?” he asked dully, and Elain chuckled, throwing a weed at him.

“Love.” she sang. “And affection.”

Eris blinked then snorted. “That does not apply here.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know my wife.”

“You’re barely getting to know your wife.”

“But I still know her more than you do at the moment.”

“Sure, but do you know her heart?” she said and batted her eyelashes with a wide smile that immediately had Eris snorting.

“It’s as cold as mine.”

“Well, someone drank his dramatic juice this morning.” she said with an eye roll and Eris scowled. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” he said rather defensively. “I just…”

Elain paused her digging to raise a brow.

“I don’t… like feelings.”

Elain laughed. “No. I would’ve never noticed.”

“Elain.” he said through gritted teeth, crushing the weed in his hand.

“Eris.” his sister-in-law replied with a sweet smile, and he narrowed his eyes at her.

“If you make fun of me, I won’t share things with you.”

“I can call Lucien and have you share things with him instead if you’d like.”

“I would much rather die, thank you very much.”

Elain laughed again and Eris’s lips twitched into a reluctant smile.

“You know, feelings are a part of relationships. A big part, actually.”

Eris sighed. “I know. I still don’t like them.”

“So how are you sharing your interest if you don’t like having or sharing feelings?”

“I’m mostly irresistibly annoying.” he said with his best charming smile and Elain snorted. “Though she is very mean to me in return.”

Elain rolled her eyes and threw another weed at him. “So, you two had your big talk. You’re spending more time together. You seem to be flirting up a storm. What’s the issue?”

Eris pursed his lips and twirled the stem in his hands. It took him a moment before he finally answered. “I…am not sure,” he said. “I am nervous. This makes me nervous. She makes me nervous.”

His sister-in-law only chuckled softly, her hands busy in the dirt though her eyes flickered back up to him. “Is it because it’s going well? You’re not used to it, and it makes you skittish?”

“Used to what, exactly?”

“Someone spending time with you without some scheme or ulterior motive involved,” she replied with an eye roll. “You’re not used to spending time with people who aren’t doing the same.”

Eris’s face heated and he ran his tongue across his teeth. “Well, you didn’t have to say it like that.”

“Why don’t you throw her over your shoulder and show her how you're really feeling?” Elain said with a sly grin and Eris’s brows shot up.

“Elain, so scandalous of you to suggest such a thing.”

“Every wife likes to be swept off her feet.” she said firmly and gave him a superior look. “Don’t tell me you’ve been kissing your wife without some kind of grand sweeping gesture?”

Eris pursed his lips again and looked away, eyes focused on the dirt to hide his expression. Sure, he shared some things, but he sure as shit wasn’t going to say anything about the nonexistent physical relationship he had with his wife.

He craved a kiss. Eris was dying to know the feeling of her lips on his. But he wouldn’t push. Not this. He would work at her pace even if he killed him.

Even if he jerked himself to death. Which seemed very likely at the moment.

“It’s not like that between us.” he said quietly and finally gazed back at his sister-in-law who was giving him a small knowing smile. “She’s not comfortable enough yet so we have been taking it very slow.”

“And is that what’s making you nervous? Taking it slow when you’re used to running through everything?”

Eris shrugged. She was getting too good at reading him, almost as good as his own mother, and Eris wasn’t sure he was supposed to like that feeling so much.

Elain straightened and slipped her gloves off before sliding next to him and tapping his hand.

“You know, I’ve always thought you had more to you than meets the eye.” she began softly. “And getting to know you better, watching you build a stronger relationship with Lucien…as much as you like to pretend otherwise, you have a big ‘ole softy hiding in here that’s trying to come out.” she said and tapped his chest, right over his heart.

Eris promptly wanted to assassinate himself.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he mumbled, scowling immediately and Elain rolled her eyes.

“I think Iris is the person you need to share that with the most and I think it makes you nervous that you desperately want to.”

Eris scoffed and looked away, his scowl deepening as the tips of his ears reddened. “I don’t desperately want to.”

“Gods Eris, you’re so desperate you positively reek of it.” Elain said with a laugh and Eris shot her a glare. “I think it’s hilarious and oh so wonderful. Besides —“ she paused to give him a stern look. “I may not know Iris just yet, but I do know flowers and their language. When someone has a favorite flower in a specific color, it’s usually because they are drawn to those things.”

Eris felt his face twitch. He wouldn’t read into it. They were just flowers.

“Why am I even listening to you? You married Lucien. Your judgment is clearly skewed.” he said with a childish pout and Elain immediately shoved him with her elbow.

“Don’t talk about my love like he's anything but perfect.”

“He’s my brother and he’s very ugly.”

“It must be so hard for you to deal with Lucien being so much more attractive than you are.” Elain said with a sweet smile that was anything but sweet. “How terrible it must be for you to be living in his shadow constantly.”

It was Eris’s turn to roll his eyes. He pushed her face away with his hand gently, earning him a yelp of protest. “No one is more attractive than I am but since you’re delusional, I’ll allow you this error in judgment.”

“I bet Iris thinks you’re very attractive, doesn’t she?”

“When she’s not too busy trying to stab me during our training sessions, she finds me downright delicious.” he said with a smug smile and Elain laughed again, shoving him.

“You’re so full of yourself, no wonder you’re too nervous to be nice around her. How will you function without all that ego?”

“It’s part of my charm.”

“But, of course.” she said then shook her head with a sigh, standing. “Come on you lovesick fool, let’s make you a nice bouquet so you can take it with you to impress your wife.”

“I am not a lovesick fool.” he immediately protested. “I barely even like her.”

“Oh really? Who is the delusional one now?” she said with a knowing look and Eris scowled as she tugged him along with her. “The flowers are a good step towards showing your feelings. You can keep it up from there.”

He scowled further. “But that still makes me nervous.”

“It’s good you're nervous. It means you care.”

“Of course I care.” he replied faster than he could stop himself. “She’s my wife.”

Elain smiled at him warmly and patted his arm. “Then I think a lovely bouquet of red carnations will be just the thing to show it. We wouldn’t want you to lay it on too thick now, would we?”

Eris gave her a small reluctant smile. “No, we can’t have that.”

And so, he followed her through her garden silently, watching as Elain mindfully picked out her best carnations. He knew Iris would like it and tried to clamp down on the smile attempting to escape him just thinking about her face lighting up when he handed it to her. She seemed to enjoy that he had flowers delivered regularly now but hadn't given her one directly yet. It should be perfect.

As Elain picked out another flower, Eris softly added, “She likes peonies too. I think the pink ones would look good with the red carnations.”

Elain paused and turned back to him with a grin. “Oh? And do you know what those symbolize?”

Eris rolled his eyes with another small smile. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me anyway.”

She laughed then elbowed him gently. “They symbolize happy marriage, good luck, and prosperity.”

Eris blinked and squinted at Elain’s too knowing of a smile. Running his tongue over his teeth, he waved a hand, his cheeks heating slightly as he looked away from her and said all too quietly, “Throw in more of those. I’ll take all the luck I can get."

[letsgofullpogue]

via ig - elameeeee

[hoyt-and-cavanaugh]

[yousought]

“   i  know  it’s  not  much ,   but ,   it’s  the  best  i  can  do .   ” @dayqyeen

"it's...it's definitely much!"

you laugh at how awkward you sound, how your voice grows squeaky and you feel like a giddy child. the gown is absolutely breathtaking, a blueish hue that matches the sea on a sunny day. you've never worn anything like this, and a part of you worries you won't be able to...well, wear it beautifully enough.

"it is such a beautiful gown," your voice remains rather breathless still, as you circle the bed where the dress rests perched like a delicate flower, unable to dare and reach to touch it, as if you were afraid to mess it up, or ruin it, "this is new to me, you know? i...i don't think i've worn anything other than the temple robes. or the training gear. do you think i...uh, will look good in it?" a shy question, you glance away to the ground. elain is gorgeous, and her pale pink gown matches her beauty quite well. a part of you dares to wonder if you could maybe be beautiful too, "i cannot express how grateful i am to you for allowing me to wear it."

[pellucid-constellations]

Of Oblivious Minds (3)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Azriel's POV (it's a warning here), angst

a/n: I am blown away by all of you and your support!! I really love writing for this fandom omg. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy ♡ Let me know what you think!! I'll get the next update up soon!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

~~

Azriel was losing his ever-loving mind. 

A few weeks ago, everything was fine. Not optimal, but fine. 

He knew his mate, and that was more than could be said for most of Prythian. But even more than that, he could love her from afar. He could make small remarks and catch the smiles they would elicit. He could send his shadows after her on her walks home, protecting her even though she had the entire Inner Circle looking out for her wellbeing. He could buy the ridiculously expensive pastries she loved and stock the kitchens with them, listening for the small gasps she let out each time she found them.

He could talk to you, listen to you, love you in his small ways, even if it wasn’t the ways in which he longed for. 

Because it wasn’t the right time yet. You hadn’t felt the bond for yourself. 

So, yes—admittedly, Azriel had not been in the most optimal position with you. But it was leaps and bounds better than the purgatory you were subjecting him to now. 

He mulled over his current reality as he sat opposite to you at the dining table. He had had to snag the seat from Mor, ripping the chair from her hand in an uncharacteristic show of aggression, and you hadn’t so much as looked up from your plate. He would’ve rather fought for the seats beside you, but Rhys and Cassian had been sitting before he even entered the room. So now he fought for your eyes and was too far away to offer any lingering, accidental touches. 

Not that you would reciprocate either. 

You were avoiding him, and Azriel was at his wit's end trying to decipher why. 

His shadows had relayed dismal reports, only whispering the words sad and alone and contemplative into his ears each morning. He could have guessed as much, if the display of emotions he had tried to comfort you through all those days ago told him anything. 

But Gods, did they really tell him nothing, because you hadn’t spoken to him since. 

“—that is certainly something to consider. Y/n, would you be open to the job?” 

“Hm?” you hummed, and Azriel watched as your eyes flickered over to Rhys in one abrupt movement. “Sorry, what?” 

Rhys raised a brow lined with humor, and Azriel realized he hadn’t been listening to the conversation either. “Helion has extended an invitation to the Night Court—for diplomatic relations and all. It’s mostly a weekend stay for show, but he has quite an extensive library. Feyre and I went last time so it would only be fair if—” 

“Yes,” you nodded, the most emotion Azriel had seen on your face in days blooming into a joyous array. “Of course, I would love to go. Are you kidding?” 

Rhys chuckled. “I figured. Helion has been quite eager to get you to come as well. Seemed like the perfect time.” 

Azriel didn’t miss the way the High Lord’s eyes shone with something other than mirth as he looked closer at the scholar… as he inspected your facade the same way Azriel had been for the past week. 

“When can I leave?” 

Something in Azriel scratched to a halt. “She’s to go alone?” 

Feyre offered the spymaster a soft smile from the other side of the table. “If she wishes. Helion’s invitation was open-ended.” 

“Take the vacation, I say,” Mor piped in, wine glass raised in a solitary toast. 

“Or… you could take me,” Cassian grinned beside you, jostling you in a playful grip. 

You sent a scoff his way. “Aren’t you banned?” 

“No, actually. I’m banned from Summer Court, which is completely unrelated.” 

A short laugh trickled from your lips. It wasn’t a full one, not like the ones Azriel was so used to—the ones he basked in—but it was a laugh, nonetheless.

He felt the way his eyes seemed to follow the crescendo of it, his blinks in time with the sweet sound. 

He committed it to memory. 

“Right, well let’s keep you away from neighboring courts as much as possible so we can avoid a repeat of that, okay?” 

Something like a grin fought at the side of Azriel’s mouth at your quip. 

Cassian prattled on. Something about unjust rules or ridiculous high lords—Azriel wasn’t paying attention. He was too caught up in you and the way you were so close to meeting his gaze. 

“Perhaps she shouldn’t go alone,” Azriel spoke up, interrupting his brother’s spiel. You still didn’t look at him, instead turning to catch Rhys’s response. 

“Azriel, I can assure you this is a safe visit,” Rhys offered. He knew. Everyone seemed to know but you. “It’s hardly even business. It’s more of a vacation. I’ve been shoving century-old relics in her face for the past few months. She deserves time to herself, don’t you think?” 

His High Lord was speaking in code. A terrible, frustrating code that really meant, “give her some distance.” 

Azriel had had enough of distance. 

He nodded his head all the same. 

And then, despite all odds, you looked at him. 

You looked at him and it was as if the air had been knocked from his lungs. As if he had been wrung out and stretched thin and every bone in his body forced him to sit up straighter. You were looking at him and Azriel couldn’t conceptualize the way the spectrum in his chest moved so quickly from utter relief to the brink of desolation. 

Because you looked at him as if you were broken. A sad—such a sad—smile graced your face, one he had never had the displeasure of seeing before, and he wanted to wipe it away. He wanted to kiss it from your face with soft touches and reassuring whispers and that was startling for Azriel because he usually kept his overwhelming urge to kiss you at bay. 

“I’ll bring you back a souvenir,” is all you said. Such simple words to accompany an expression that sent him reeling. 

“Thank you,” he replied, with the most sincerity he could muster. 

And then he held your gaze as it became downcast. He craned his neck to catch every last second of your eyes as they turned back down to the table.

It was hours later that Azriel found himself in the townhouse, boots creating an indent in the office carpet. Rhys sat just feet away from him, leaning back against the desk, waiting for the Shadowsinger to erupt. 

“I would like for you to position your spies further into Autumn. I know you have a few that have integrated into the court, but I need more intel on Eris and his plans.” 

“Of course.” 

“You can take out any currently residing in Day. Just for the next week or so. With y/n going, she can report any happenings.” 

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw jumped. “Would that be wise?” 

Rhys stared back at his brother, expression giving nothing away. “Why wouldn’t it be? Do you not trust y/n’s word?” 

Azriel’s wings were taut against his back. In truth, he hadn’t felt relaxed in days. With you leaving, that tension would surely pull him into thin compliance. 

“Obviously I trust her word, Rhysand.” 

“Rhysand? What have I done to earn your grievance?” the High Lord asked, crossing his arms over his chest, still the perfect picture of calm. 

Azriel was a juxtaposition before him as he clenched his hands and replied, “You already know.” 

“Do I know? I’m not sure you’ve been clear or honest with anyone. Y/n especially.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Rhys bent at the elbow and rubbed a restless hand across his jaw. Azriel ignored the movement in favor of holding eye contact with the High Lord. Azriel was being stubborn, he knew that, but there was no other way to be. 

He needed to be consistent and reliable. He needed to be a pillar for his family to lean on, and you were part of that. He wasn’t going to take that away from you—to be selfish and call upon a mating bond you hadn't even been made aware of yet. 

He wasn’t going to squander your friendship in the hopes of something more. 

There was a chance, no matter how much the prospect pained him to consider, that you wouldn’t want the bond. You had never hinted at wanting more with the spymaster, so there was no telling how you might react to the cauldron blessing you with a union. You could reject it, and with it would go your friendship. 

Just the thought sent ice through Azriel’s veins. 

Truth be told, he had never shown you many signs either. When the bond snapped months ago, it had taken time for Azriel to come to terms with the truth. He had ruminated on it amidst many sleepless nights, watched you from a new perspective over many dinners, and contemplated the path that had led him to you. 

And then he had regretted. Cauldron had he regretted. 

The feeling still lingered, a reminder of each woman he had taken to his bed before you. All of the fae that had meant nothing, and even the ones that had boarded on something, he wished he could do away with.

Because you had been privy to them all. He knew you had witnessed a few late-night trysts, and even worse, that you had watched him pine after Mor for a century. It all seemed so frivolous now; it all paled in comparison to you. 

And the absolute worst part of it all is that he knew. 

He knew how easy it would be to fall in love with you from the start, so he pretended not to notice. 

He threw himself into impractical longing and meaningless lovers and he pretended that it didn’t hurt to look at you. 

The bond had only cemented his foolishness. 

He hardly had a chance with you by the time it snapped. 

“Late night then, Az?” 

You had teased him over breakfast just days before the bond had snapped for him, a small smile on your face as you lounged at the table early in the morning. At the time, Azriel had bit the inside of his cheek and reeled in his snarkiness. He had avoided your gaze, avoided the robe that barely covered your nightgown, and made himself toast in silence. He had already coaxed the blonde fae out of his bed, and he hadn’t needed a reminder of the woman he had been imagining all throughout the night. 

Because that had been something else he opted to ignore—that he pictured you, imagined you, at all times. 

It snapped three days later. He had been accompanying you through Velaris. “Shopping for fun,” you had said, “and I hate to go alone.”

The only thing Azriel had taken home that day was a gaping hole in his chest and the knowledge that lying to himself had brought him nothing but pain. 

The months following were different. 

Everything was different. 

But for you, he had come to the grim realization, nothing was different at all. He was still Azriel, your friend Azriel, who was secretive and private and cared from afar. You still pictured him as a man who chose his lovers based on convenience and quick practicality even though he hadn’t so much as looked at another woman since your emotions began flowing through his chest. 

Gods, your emotions. They were so positive, so addicting, he could sit back and live his days through you until the end of time. You had so much unrestricted joy coursing through you—so much curiosity and delight. Part of Azriel dreaded the day you did recognize the bond; it would dim the connection to you.

That day in the library had been the first time the bond had chafed against his lungs. He had felt the earthquake beneath his feet and thought nothing of it, but then your fear punctured his being and he had run so fast his wings ached. 

And then you started having nightmares, ones he couldn’t fix, and Azriel began to feel like he was losing you. Like the bond was withering and eroding within him and you along with it. 

“How long, Azriel?” Rhys’s voice cut through the air with a harshness. 

The shadowsinger breathed through his nose, jaw tight. 

“Tell me. Tell me how long you’re going to keep this up for.” 

“You don’t understand, Rhys,” came Azriel’s low reply. “None of you do.” 

The High Lord scoffed. “Right, because I had it so easy with Feyre. Az, mates are complicated—” 

“Don’t,” Azriel breathed. A dangerous shakiness accompanied the word.

“Explain it to me. Help me to understand how—” 

“There was nothing for you to lose!” The rise of the shadowsinger’s voice sent Rhys into silence. “There was nothing! You hadn’t known Feyre for three centuries—hadn’t known what it was like to see her cry over worthless males or laugh until she was doubled over. You didn’t have time to memorize the sound of her voice or understand how it felt to lose that small piece of her. Because she won’t even talk to me anymore and—” 

Azriel cut himself off, moving for the first time since he entered office. He paced, the motion of his feet doing little to dispel the tension from the air or from his body. Azriel tugged a hand through his hair, his shadows following the aggressive pull and weaving through the strands. 

“How long?” Rhys asked again, but this time, Azriel knew that he was asking a different question. One that even he himself had avoided answering. 

The shadowsinger paused. His next words were tainted and his voice cracked. 

“I think forever.”

Part 4

[itsswritten]

butterfly kisses

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word Count: 1.7K (honestly it's just a little drabble)

Warnings: 18+, implied smut, lots of fluff, mating frenzy

Summary: Azriel just can't get enough of your wings <3

Wings Universe - More from this world.

Azriel wasn’t sure how he’d gotten so lucky.

He had thanked the Mother every day since the bond snapped, and even more when you accepted it. When Mor had introduced you into his life only a couple of years ago, he never imagined this would be the outcome.

Azriel vividly remembered the first night he met you. It was another gathering at Rita’s, one of the many that had unfolded, now peace settled over the land. 

Mor with playful determination had pulled you over to their table, arm looped around yours– almost in a way that said she wasn’t going to let you escape. He had noticed the faint blush that creeped up your face to your pointed ears, merely from the proximity of your High Lord and Lady, and their inner circle. He recalled how you offered a shy little curtsy in their presence, that had led to the whole table stifling their laughter. Rhys kindly explained that such formalities were not necessary, especially not in Rita’s of all places. Azriel did his best to contain his mirth at the display, all the while chewing the inside of his cheek to stop the chuckle leaving his lips. He truly couldn’t get over how adorable you were, he'd found himself captivated by your endearing innocence. 

And that was only the start.

Mor explained how she’d met you in town one day and had essentially thrusted her friendship onto you, and it really didn’t take long for Azriel and his family to do the same. 

You were so sweet and caring, and slotted into Azriel’s life so easily that he found it hard to remember a time when you weren’t there at all. Your kindness towards the Archeron sisters, guiding them through the intricate transitions of fae life that they still at times struggled with. Nyx was absolutely enamoured with you, oftentimes seeking your company over his actual family. But they didn’t blame him, because they all did same. Your calm sweet nature was addictive to them all, especially Azriel.

Driven by an insatiable curiosity, Azriel found himself seeking every opportunity to unravel all your layers. He wanted to know everything about you. From your favourite foods, to the books that captured your attention.

His infatuation all made sense when the bond snapped. 

It was the last solstice.

Azriel had noticed how beautiful you were looking, as you always were. But you were clad in a breathtaking pale pink summer dress, the neckline delicately showcasing your décolletage. As you moved with a natural grace, the fabric billowed ever so slightly at the waist, accentuating your silhouette in a manner that held attention.

Or at least held Azriel’s attention. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

He watched you carefully navigate the chaos of the room. Nyx in one arm, giving Feyre some rest and reprieve in her pregnant state. Your other hand bringing in the cake Elain had spent all morning baking. Amidst the flurry of activity, you had been so close to dropping the cake. But Azriel's steady hand intervened just in time, grabbing the plate and taking it off you. Except in that moment your hands touched, grazed past one another in a way they had so many times before. 

But that time had been different.

It was Azriel’s turn to almost drop the cake. That all consuming warmth flooded his chest catching him off guard. A golden thread connecting itself to you. The mating bond. Finally.

And based on the bright red flush covering your cheeks, it was clear you’d felt it too. You’d fled the room then, overcome with emotion and what this new revelation meant. 

Though, it didn’t take long for Azriel to coax you round.

Ever the gentleman, he courted you. Taking you on the most thoughtful dates and spoiling you with bouquet after bouquet of flowers. He would leave little love notes and poetry for you to find. That it was really no surprise to anyone, when you decided to accept the bond.

That was only three weeks ago now.

Yourself and Azriel were deep in the mating frenzy. 

Rhys had kindly offered one of his private residences he had on the outskirts of Night. A smaller cottage, but with all the privacy you both needed. And Azriel had taken advantage of that privacy eliciting sounds from you that he would cherish forever and never tire hearing.

And then there were your wings. 

You had revealed them to him the first night after accepting the mating bond, and, Gods, was he done for.

Azriel had taken it upon himself, in the earlier months, to really vet you. His dedication to his role as Spymaster served as a guise for his self-indulgent exploration of you, delving into the intricate details of your being with a hunger that bordered on obsession. Not only had he discovered all the things you love, but he searched for details of who and what you were.

Finding himself holed up in the library at times, hours spent devoted to aquainiting himself to the type of fairy you were. 

He knew you had wings, was the type of fairy whose wings were the delicate kind. Most kept them concealed with magic. Yet, Azriel couldn't shake the thought that perhaps they were hidden not only for protection but also out of reverence for their breathtaking beauty. They were mesmerising. Enough to trap Azriel into some kind of trance. 

And perhaps possessively so, he was grateful not many males were privy to this part of you.

He was watching you now, laying on your front. Bare. Just how he’d left you when he took a moment to freshen up. You were giggling, your legs up and feet fluttering behind you while propped up over something.

“What are you doing, my love?” Azriel purred inquisitively, stepping closer towards the bed.

“Oh…Feyre was just checking in. Asking how much longer we might be,” he could hear you smile when you spoke, and watched as with the brush of your hand the magical parchment and ink disappeared that you’d been conversing with Feyre on.

“It’s not even been that long,”

“We’ve been gone three weeks–”

“And we’ll be gone 300 hundred more,”

You chuckled at his response, “Az, we do need to go back at some point. They need us.”

“I need you more.” There was no negotiating. Your family would be lucky to see you both before the next solstice at this rate.

Not that Azriel needed the frenzy to be satiated by you, but it truly was driving him. The primal need for you, overwhelming. The pair of you only stopped when you both fell into a slumber from exhaustion. And even then, there were many times you found each other in a sleep exhausted haze, tangled within and inside one another again.

The bed dipped either side of your legs, you were still on your front but could feel your mate over you. He had paused though, his eyes falling over your beautiful pink wings. The iridescent skin reflecting lights across the room. He had almost cried when he first saw them after you accepted the bond, mesmerised and overwhelmed by their beauty.

Getting to see this part of you, a part of you that was so private, stirred a gratefulness inside him. But there was something else too, a possessiveness that had slowly been creeping up his mind recently.

In the past three weeks, you had both done every possible maneuver, tried every kind of love making– fucking, screwing, mating. You’d even made him a crumbling wet mess just from playing with his wings. 

But he hadn’t touched yours.

No, they looked so delicate and soft, too beautiful to touch, that he hadn’t dared. 

You felt him situate himself behind you, his warm naked body lightly laying on you, his chest resting on your behind. His arms wormed their way under your hips to get comfy, and you splayed your wings flat against your back to fit him.

“Az?” you asked curiously, glancing slightly over at your shoulder to catch him in your peripheral.

He didn’t respond though, not with words. You felt his soft warm breath blowing on the membrane of your right wing, making your squirm under the touch. Your wing fluttering a little in the air.

“How sensitive are they? Too sensitive for me to touch?” You heard him behind you.

“Hm..” you tilted your head slightly to think, “They’re delicate, but you can touch them. Gently.”

You were waiting for him to wriggle his hand from out beneath you but instead you felt something warm and wet run against the bottom of your wing.

You couldn’t stop the whimper from escaping your lips at the soft touch. Azriel had taken it upon himself to use the tip of his tongue to explore this part of you, a part of you that was still very new to him. He felt you wriggle under him, and he shifted placing his full body weight on you so you couldn’t move.

His tongue traced the ridge of your wing, and he wasn’t letting up. Not when he’d made that sound from you. He wanted more of that. He moved and pressed his tongue flat against the delicate skin, evoking another moan from you.

“Does that feel good my little butterfly?” he purred, you could feel the smirk on his lips against your wing as he pressed a kiss on them.

You wanted to roll your eyes at his teasing, but it felt too good to do anything other than surrender to his touch.

“I want to hear your words,” he spoke a little more assertively this time, before swiping  his tongue along one of the tubular lines that spread like veins across your wings.

“Yes..” You huffed, before another moan slipped past your lips breathlessly. “It feels good Az…” You felt your body heat, your cheeks for sure rosy, grateful your mate could only hear not see the reaction he was having on you. 

He chuckled softly then, the vibrations from his lips skirting across your wings making them twitch.

“My sensitive little butterfly, ” the new nickname only made you squirm more, your core growing slick at his predatory attention.

Azriel moved his hand then, the one caught under your left hip, so effortlessly moving down to your core, cupping your wet slit as he licked the pink shiny membrane again. 

“Azriel…” you gasped, but his touch didn’t relent.

You knew this was only the start.

a/n: just some lovely little fluffy mating frenzyness! I just love these two, so I may expand a little more on the wings universe and their relationship if you guys would like to see that! Maybe some domestic bliss, or if there's any scenes you'd like me to write for them or parts of their story you're interested in then I'm happy to explore. Also this was written fairly quickly, so please ignore any typos, I only did a quick little check hehe - Lottie

p.s. also thanks to @thisiskaylin who inspired the nickname! She commented on the wings fic that butterfly would be the perfect nickname and I just had to use it <3

Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @milswrites @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria

[fr0stf4ll]

Flavours of Prythian

Coming from that request

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; Y/N, a talented restaurateur’s life is turned upside down when she forms an unexpected bond with Azriel, the mysterious Spymaster of the Night Court. Befriending Elain, who confides in her about a male she’s trying to win over, she eagerly helps her new friend — only to discover the male is none other than Azriel. When the bond between her and Azriel snaps at first touch, she’s torn between loyalty to Elain and the undeniable connection she shares with the shadowy warrior.

word count ; 7.8k

warning; //

notes; Yoo everyone, here is my first one shot ! Thank you again for the request<333 Should I do a more general taglist so that you guys can be permanently on it. Enjoy it, see you <3

---

Prythian was a land of many wonders, from the towering peaks of the Illyrian mountains to the lush, rolling hills of the Spring Court. But for you, the true magic of the land was found in its kitchens, markets, and the rich flavors that each court had to offer.

You had always been drawn to the culinary arts, even as a child. Your curiosity led you to travel across the courts, tasting the distinct dishes of each region, learning from the most skilled chefs, and uncovering the hidden culinary gems that most would overlook. You spent years journeying from the Day Court, where spices danced like sunlight on the tongue, to the Winter Court, where hearty stews and warm bread were a staple against the biting cold. In the Night Court, you discovered the delicate balance of flavors that mirrored the starlit skies above, and in the Summer Court, you indulged in the rich, vibrant tastes that seemed to capture the very essence of the sun-drenched beaches.

Your travels weren’t just about satisfying your own cravings; they were a quest to bring the best of Prythian’s diverse cuisines to others. And so, you did the impossible—you opened a series of restaurants, each one in a different court, each one a testament to the culinary traditions you had learned and made your own. Your establishments became a haven for those seeking not only a good meal but an experience, a journey through Prythian’s tastes and textures without ever leaving their seat.

Your flagship restaurant, nestled in the heart of Velaris, was particularly special. It was here, in the City of Starlight, that you combined the flavors of all the courts into a menu that was as varied and enchanting as Prythian itself. Word quickly spread of the remarkable dishes served within, and soon, it wasn’t just the citizens of Velaris who came to dine—High Fae from every court sought out your creations.

One such evening, as you oversaw the final preparations for the dinner service, the door to your restaurant swung open, and in walked a familiar face—Elain Archeron. Elain had been wandering through Velaris, taking in the beauty of the city, when the warm, inviting aroma from your restaurant had drawn her in.

Elain was known for her gentle nature, her love of gardening, and her keen eye for beauty in all things. But tonight, she was here for something different—a new experience, a chance to explore another form of beauty through the culinary delights that had been whispered about throughout the city.

As Elain took her seat near a window overlooking the Sidra, she immediately felt at ease. There was a sense of comfort and warmth in the restaurant, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself walking over to greet her. She looked up with a warm smile, her eyes bright with curiosity and a touch of shyness.

“Welcome,” you said, your own smile reflecting her warmth. “I’m Y/N, the owner and chef here. It’s a pleasure to have you.”

Elain’s smile widened, and she nodded appreciatively. “I’ve heard so much about this place, I just had to come see for myself. The aromas alone are worth the visit.”

You chuckled, feeling an instant connection with her. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ll make sure the food lives up to the expectations.”

As the evening went on, you found yourself returning to Elain’s table more than once, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you. You talked about your travels, the different courts you had visited, and the inspiration behind some of the dishes on the menu. Elain, in turn, shared stories of her own—of her love for gardening, the peace she found in the quiet moments spent among the flowers, and her growing appreciation for the little joys in life, like a perfectly prepared meal.

There was something comforting in the way you both connected, as if you had known each other for much longer than just one evening. By the time dessert arrived—a delicate pastry inspired by the flavors of the Summer Court—you and Elain were chatting like old friends, the conversation punctuated by shared laughter and the occasional appreciative hum as she tasted each new dish.

As the night drew to a close, Elain hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I’d love to come back,” she said, her voice soft but sincere. “Maybe we could do this again sometime?”

You smiled, genuinely pleased by the idea. “I’d like that. You’re welcome anytime, Elain.”

Elain quickly became a regular fixture at your restaurant, her visits growing more frequent as the two of you bonded over shared stories, laughter, and the occasional glass of wine. It wasn’t long before your casual conversations began to take on a more personal tone, with Elain confiding in you about her life, her hopes, and her dreams.

One evening, after the dinner rush had died down and the restaurant had settled into a peaceful hum, Elain arrived with a particular glint in her eye. You noticed it the moment she walked in, her steps lighter, her smile brighter. She took her usual seat by the window, and you didn’t waste any time joining her, a knowing smile on your face.

“Alright, Elain,” you said, sitting down across from her. “You’re glowing tonight. What’s going on?”

Elain blushed, her hands fluttering nervously in her lap. “It’s nothing, really… Well, maybe it’s something. I don’t know.”

You leaned in closer, eyes wide with curiosity. “Come on, you can’t just leave me hanging like that. Spill!”

She bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before finally giving in. “There’s… this male,” she began, her voice soft but filled with excitement. “I’ve been trying to get his attention for a while now, and I think… I think it might actually be working.”

You couldn’t help but squeal in delight, clapping your hands together. “Elain! This is amazing! Tell me everything—who is he? How did it start? What’s he like?”

Elain giggled at your enthusiasm, her own excitement bubbling to the surface as she began to share the details. “He’s… well, he’s different. Reserved, I guess you could say. But there’s something about him that just draws me in. He’s kind, in his own way, and he has this quiet strength that I really admire.”

You listened intently, hanging on her every word as she described this mysterious male who had captured her attention. It was clear that she was smitten, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement for her.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked, your mind already racing with ideas. “How are you going to win him over?”

Elain smiled shyly, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. “Well, I thought… maybe I could start by cooking for him. You know, something simple but special. He loves good food, and I think it might help him see… well, see me.”

You practically jumped out of your seat with excitement. “Elain, that’s perfect! And you’re in the right place—I can help you with recipes, tips, anything you need. We’ll make sure this meal is unforgettable.”

Her eyes lit up with gratitude. “Really? You’d help me?”

“Of course!” you replied, beaming. “This is what friends are for. And besides, I love a good love story. We’ll make sure he can’t resist you after this.”

From that moment on, the two of you were inseparable. Elain would visit the restaurant every few days, sometimes to try out a new dish, other times just to chat and share the latest developments in her budding romance. The more she talked about this male, the more you could see how deeply she cared for him, and it made you all the more determined to help her succeed.

You spent hours in the kitchen together, experimenting with different ingredients and techniques, crafting meals that were not only delicious but also filled with meaning. Elain would watch you work, her eyes wide with admiration as you explained the significance of each spice, each flavor, and how it could be used to convey emotion.

“There’s a language in food,” you told her one afternoon as you kneaded dough for a loaf of bread. “Every dish tells a story. When you cook for someone, you’re sharing a part of yourself with them. It’s intimate, in a way.”

Elain nodded thoughtfully, her hands busy chopping herbs for the soup you were preparing. “I never thought of it like that, but it makes sense. I want him to know how I feel, even if I can’t always find the words.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for your friend. “Then we’ll make sure every bite he takes is filled with love.”

As the days turned into weeks, Elain’s visits became a highlight of your day. She would burst through the door, her eyes sparkling as she recounted her latest interactions with the male who had stolen her heart. You would listen with rapt attention, offering advice and encouragement, celebrating every small victory and reassuring her during moments of doubt.

“He loved the soup,” she told you one evening, her cheeks flushed with happiness. “He said it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. And I think… I think he’s starting to notice me.”

You grinned, feeling a surge of pride. “I told you, Elain. No one can resist good food, especially when it’s made with love.”

She laughed, her joy infectious. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Y/N. You’ve helped me so much.”

You waved off her gratitude with a smile. “Nonsense. You’re the one doing all the hard work. I’m just here to cheer you on.”

But the truth was, you had come to care deeply for Elain and her happiness. It wasn’t just about the food anymore—it was about seeing your friend find the love and connection she so deserved. And as she continued to come back, sharing her hopes and dreams, you couldn’t help but feel that you had found something special too.

Your friendship with Elain had become a source of joy and fulfillment, a reminder that sometimes, the most meaningful connections were forged in the simplest of moments—over a shared meal, a quiet conversation, or a burst of laughter that echoed through the night.

And so, as the seasons changed and the nights grew longer, you continued to help Elain in her quest to win over this mysterious male, knowing that whatever the outcome, you had found a true friend in her. A friend who had come into your life unexpectedly, but who had quickly become an irreplaceable part of it.

Weeks had passed since you and Elain had first started crafting meals together, each one a carefully planned step in her quest to win over the male who had captivated her heart. Every visit, every dish, brought a new story, a new glimmer of hope in her eyes. You were genuinely happy for her, thrilled to see her so full of life and excitement. So, when she asked if she could bring him to your restaurant for dinner, you couldn’t have been more supportive.

“Of course, Elain!” you’d said, flashing her an encouraging smile. “I’ll make sure everything is perfect. It’ll be a night he won’t forget.”

You’d spent the entire day preparing, selecting only the finest ingredients and crafting a menu that would showcase the very best of what your restaurant had to offer. You wanted this night to be special for her—special for them. You had no idea how special it would become, for reasons you never could have imagined.

As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting the city of Velaris in a warm, golden glow, Elain arrived at the restaurant with a male by her side. You couldn’t quite make out his features at first, but the way she clung to his arm, her eyes bright with anticipation, told you all you needed to know. This was the one.

As they stepped into the softly lit dining room, you finally got a good look at him—Azriel, the shadowsinger of the Night Court. You had heard of him, of course, through whispers and stories, but nothing could have prepared you for the moment your eyes met his.

Elain beamed as she introduced the two of you, her voice filled with warmth and pride. “Azriel, this is Y/N, the wonderful chef I’ve been telling you about. And Y/N, this is Azriel.”

He extended his hand to you, his expression polite, reserved. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, his voice deep and smooth.

You reached out, intending to greet him with the same friendly courtesy you offered all your patrons. But the moment your hand touched his, something shifted in the air—a sudden, overwhelming rush of heat and energy that took your breath away. The bond snapped into place with such force that it nearly knocked you off your feet.

For a split second, the world around you faded, and all you could feel was the pull, the undeniable connection that tethered your soul to his. His eyes widened in shock, and you knew he felt it too—the bond, the realization that fate had just entwined your lives in a way neither of you had expected.

But as quickly as the bond formed, reality came crashing back down. Elain was standing there, her eyes full of hope, completely unaware of the storm that had just erupted inside you. She had no idea that the male she was so clearly infatuated with, the one she had been working so hard to win over, was now bound to you in a way that went beyond anything you could have ever imagined.

Panic surged through you. How could this happen? How could you possibly accept this bond when it would mean shattering the friendship you had built with Elain, when it would mean taking away the one thing she wanted so desperately?

You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

With a forced smile, you quickly withdrew your hand from Azriel’s grasp, the warmth of the bond lingering like a phantom touch. “It’s nice to meet you too,” you managed to say, though your voice sounded hollow even to your own ears.

Azriel’s gaze lingered on you, confusion and something deeper flickering in his hazel eyes. But you couldn’t let yourself look too long, couldn’t let yourself feel what was brewing inside you. Not when Elain was standing right there, her happiness hanging in the balance.

“Please, take a seat,” you said, stepping back and motioning toward the table you had specially prepared for them. “I’ll make sure everything is perfect.”

Elain smiled, oblivious to the turmoil in your heart, and took her seat. Azriel hesitated for just a moment before following suit, his eyes never leaving yours. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, the unspoken questions hanging in the air between you, but you didn’t dare meet his eyes again. You couldn’t.

As the evening went on, you did your best to stay professional, to act as if nothing had changed. You brought out dish after dish, each one more exquisite than the last, all while ignoring the fire burning in your chest. Every time Azriel tried to catch your eye, every time he tried to speak to you, you found a reason to turn away, to focus on something—anything—else.

Elain chattered on, completely unaware of the tension building between you and Azriel. She complimented the food, praised your skills, and even mentioned how much Azriel seemed to be enjoying himself. And through it all, you kept up the facade, kept pretending as if the bond snapping into place hadn't turned your entire world upside down.

But it was getting harder. With every glance Azriel sent your way, with every quiet question he tried to ask you in passing, it felt like the invisible thread between you was pulling tighter, demanding to be acknowledged. Yet, you refused to give in.

As the night dragged on, the tension between you and Azriel grew unbearable. He could sense it—you knew he could—but Elain remained blissfully unaware, happily recounting the gossip from the latest happenings in Velaris, smiling every time she caught Azriel glancing her way.

Azriel's eyes kept drifting back to you. Not once, not twice, but every time you approached the table, as if he couldn’t stop himself. You could feel the weight of his gaze burning into you, the way his expression darkened each time you brushed past him without so much as a word. He knew you were avoiding him, and he didn’t like it.

When you brought out the final dish—an indulgent dessert meant to close the evening on a sweet note—Elain excused herself to step outside for a moment, leaving you alone with Azriel for the first time since the bond snapped.

You could feel his presence before you even turned around, the quiet intensity of his gaze. And as you set the plate down in front of him, you knew you couldn’t avoid this confrontation any longer.

“Y/N.” His voice was low, barely more than a murmur, but the way he said your name sent a shiver down your spine. “We need to talk.”

You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes firmly fixed on the table in front of you. “There’s nothing to talk about,” you said, your voice cold and distant, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions raging inside you.

Azriel leaned forward, his voice dropping even lower. “Don’t lie to me. You felt it too.”

The bond. He didn’t have to say the word for you to know what he meant. It was a truth that hung in the air between you, undeniable and impossible to ignore. And yet, you had to. You had to protect Elain, to protect your friendship, no matter the cost.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, your heart aching with the effort it took to deny the pull you felt toward him.

Azriel’s expression darkened, his hand curling into a fist on the table. “Don’t do this, Y/N. Don’t shut me out.”

But you couldn’t let him in. If you let him in, if you allowed yourself to even consider what the bond meant, you would be betraying Elain in the worst way possible. How could you even think about being with him when she had spent weeks confiding in you, trusting you with her feelings for him?

“No, Azriel.” You stepped back, your voice firmer this time. “I can’t.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. “Why? Because of Elain?”

You winced at the mention of her name, the weight of guilt pressing heavily on your chest. “She cares about you. A lot.”

Azriel's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Y/N, it’s not like that between Elain and me.”

But you shook your head, refusing to let yourself believe it. “It doesn’t matter. She’s my friend. I can’t—I won’t—do this to her.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you was thick with tension, a storm of emotions swirling just beneath the surface. Azriel opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, the sound of the door opening broke the silence.

Elain re-entered the dining room, a bright smile on her face as she made her way back to the table. “Sorry about that,” she said cheerfully, oblivious to the charged atmosphere between you and Azriel. “What did I miss?”

You forced a smile, masking the turmoil raging inside you. “Nothing,” you lied, your voice steady even though your heart was breaking. “Just making sure everything’s perfect.”

Elain beamed, clearly pleased with how the evening had gone. “It really has been perfect, Y/N. Thank you so much for everything.”

Azriel’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he finally looked away, the tension in his jaw clear as he nodded in agreement. “Yes… thank you.”

You nodded once, offering them both a stiff smile before excusing yourself from the room, your chest tightening with every step you took away from them.

As you retreated to the quiet of the kitchen, your hands bracing against the counter, the reality of what had just happened began to sink in. The bond had snapped. Azriel was your mate. And yet, you couldn’t—wouldn’t—accept it.

You had promised yourself you’d never hurt Elain. And if shutting down every advance Azriel made, if pushing away the one person the Cauldron had chosen for you was the only way to keep that promise, then that’s exactly what you would do.

Even if it tore you apart.

Back in the kitchen, you leaned heavily against the counter, your hands gripping the cold marble surface as you tried to regain your composure. The bond had snapped, and with it, any sense of stability you had managed to hold onto throughout the evening. The world felt off-kilter, like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering on the brink.

One of your sous chefs, a sharp-eyed female who had worked with you since the restaurant’s inception, noticed your pallor. She set down the pan she was holding and approached you, concern evident in her eyes.

“Y/N,” she began cautiously, her voice gentle but probing, “are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You forced a nod, though you knew your expression wasn’t convincing. “I’m fine,” you murmured, though your voice was shaky and unsteady.

She frowned, clearly not buying your response. Her eyes scanned your face, taking in the unusual paleness of your skin, the way your hands trembled slightly as you gripped the counter. “You don’t look fine. Do you need to sit down? Maybe get some air?”

You shook your head, trying to brush off her concern, but the weight of the bond pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. “No, I’ll be okay. It’s just… been a long night.”

She hesitated, still studying you closely, before glancing around the bustling kitchen. “But, Y/N,” she continued, her tone turning more inquisitive, “it’s strange. You always insist on preparing Miss Elain’s meals yourself, especially when she’s bringing a guest. But tonight, you didn’t even touch the preparation. You left it all to us.”

You froze at her words, the reality of what had happened sinking in even deeper. She was right—normally, you would have insisted on handling every detail of Elain’s meal, wanting to ensure that everything was perfect for your friend. But tonight, when it mattered most, you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to do it.

The truth was, the moment you realized Elain was bringing someone special, you couldn’t bring yourself to touch the ingredients. You had let the staff handle everything because deep down, some part of you knew something was about to change—something you weren’t ready to face.

“I…” you started, but the words caught in your throat. You swallowed hard, trying to find some semblance of an explanation. “I just thought… maybe it was time to let you all handle it. You’re more than capable.”

She tilted her head slightly, her frown deepening as she searched your eyes. “Are you sure that’s all it is?”

You nodded again, more firmly this time, even though the lie tasted bitter on your tongue. “Yes, I’m sure. I trust all of you with the kitchen. You don’t need me hovering over every detail.”

She didn’t seem entirely convinced, but she didn’t press the issue further. Instead, she offered a small, supportive smile. “Well, if you ever need a break, don’t hesitate to step out. We’ve got things under control here.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I appreciate it.”

With a final nod, she returned to her station, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the crushing weight of the bond you were trying so desperately to ignore.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you tried to push away the overwhelming emotions swirling inside you. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the image of Azriel’s eyes, the way they had widened in shock and recognition when the bond snapped into place. You couldn’t forget the warmth of his hand in yours, the way the world had seemed to narrow down to just the two of you in that fleeting, life-altering moment.

But Elain… you couldn’t do this to Elain. You couldn’t shatter her hopes, her dreams, just because of a bond you had never asked for. So, you did the only thing you could—you steeled yourself, pushed down the emotions threatening to break free, and vowed to keep your distance from Azriel, no matter how much it hurt.

You would be there for Elain, just as you always had been. You would help her win over the male she had been trying so hard to impress, even if it meant denying your own heart in the process.

Because that’s what friends did. They put each other first, no matter the cost.

And as you stood there in the kitchen, surrounded by the comforting sounds of sizzling pans and clinking utensils, you made a silent promise to yourself: you would protect Elain’s happiness, even if it meant sacrificing your own.

—

Azriel sat in the sitting room of the townhouse, surrounded by the familiar faces of the inner circle, yet he felt completely out of place. The evening had been an unexpected whirlwind of emotions, leaving him reeling from the bond that had snapped so suddenly and without warning. He had come here to find solace, to clear his mind, but every thought seemed to spiral back to you—the way you had looked at him, the way you had recoiled after the bond had formed during dinner at your restaurant.

He couldn’t understand it. How could something so significant be brushed aside so easily? He had tried to reach out to you, to understand what was happening, but you had shut him down, leaving him to grapple with the weight of the bond on his own.

The others were chatting around him, the sound of their laughter and conversation filling the room, but it all felt distant, muffled. Azriel’s mind was too clouded to focus on anything they were saying. He was trapped in a loop, replaying the moment over and over in his head—the spark, the connection, the way your eyes had widened in recognition before you quickly masked it.

He was so lost in thought that he almost missed it when Rhysand mentioned your name.

“You know, Y/N’s restaurant is one of the best in Velaris,” Rhys was saying, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smile. “Feyre and I went there a few nights ago, and it was nothing short of incredible.”

Feyre nodded enthusiastically, her eyes lighting up at the memory. “The food was amazing. Every dish was like a work of art. She really has a talent, doesn’t she?”

Mor, who was lounging on one of the couches, joined in with a grin. “That’s not even the half of it. Y/N’s got restaurants all over Prythian—one in each court, if you can believe it. She’s become a bit of a legend in the culinary world.”

Azriel’s heart sank further as they continued to praise you, each word driving the knife deeper into his chest. It wasn’t that he disagreed with them—he knew you were remarkable, talented, someone to be admired. But right now, every mention of your name was like salt in a wound that was already festering.

Cassian, who had been listening with a smirk on his face, finally spoke up, his tone playful. “Sounds like Az here missed out on one hell of a meal tonight. Maybe he’ll have to go back and get a taste of what everyone’s raving about.”

Azriel tensed, the comment hitting far too close to home. He knew Cassian was just joking, but the implication—the reminder of what had happened tonight—was too much to bear. Without a word, he pushed himself up from his chair, his movements abrupt enough to draw everyone’s attention.

“Az?” Feyre called out, concern lacing her voice as she watched him head for the door. “Are you alright?”

He didn’t trust himself to respond. Instead, he muttered something about needing some air and quickly left the room, the weight of their gazes heavy on his back as he made his escape.

As the door closed behind him, an uncomfortable silence settled over the room. Everyone exchanged glances, clearly taken aback by Azriel’s sudden departure.

“What’s gotten into him?” Rhysand wondered aloud, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Cassian, never one to let an opportunity for humor pass by, snorted and shook his head. “Probably just realized he’s been a brooding mess all night and couldn’t handle the idea of someone actually having a good time.”

Mor chuckled, though there was a trace of worry in her eyes. “Or maybe he just can’t handle the fact that Y/N’s cooking is so damn good, it knocked him off his game.”

Rhysand sighed, glancing toward the door Azriel had just walked through. “He’s been off since he got back tonight. Maybe something happened.”

Feyre bit her lip, her expression softening. “I hope he’s alright. He seemed… different.”

Cassian, ever the optimist, leaned back in his chair with a lazy grin. “He’ll be fine. Az is tougher than all of us combined. He just needs some time to brood in his room, and he’ll be back to his grumpy self in no time.”

The group shared a few more laughs at Azriel’s expense, but the concern in their eyes never fully faded. They all knew Azriel well enough to understand that when he withdrew like this, it meant something was seriously bothering him.

Azriel’s footsteps were heavy as he made his way to his room, the quiet of the hallway amplifying the thoughts swirling in his mind. As soon as he entered, he shut the door behind him and leaned against it, closing his eyes as he tried to block out the noise, the chaos of emotions inside him.

He couldn’t shake the feeling of your hand in his, the way the bond had snapped into place like it had always been there, waiting. The connection was undeniable, and yet… you had denied it. Denied him.

Why? The question gnawed at him, refusing to let him rest. He had seen the recognition in your eyes, the brief moment when you had felt it too. But then, you had shut down, shut him out as if the bond meant nothing.

It was more than just confusing—it was painful. Azriel had spent centuries in the shadows, watching from the sidelines as his friends found their mates, found love. He had accepted his place, accepted that perhaps it wasn’t meant for him. And then, in the span of a heartbeat, everything had changed. You had changed it.

And now… now he was left in this strange limbo, caught between the undeniable pull of the bond and the walls you had erected between you.

Azriel’s fists clenched at his sides as he fought the urge to storm back to your restaurant, to demand answers, to make you acknowledge what had happened. But he knew he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t force you to accept the bond, couldn’t force you to feel something you clearly weren’t ready to face.

With a frustrated sigh, Azriel pushed off the door and crossed the room, heading to the window that overlooked Velaris. The city was peaceful, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, but his mind was anything but. He rested his forehead against the cool glass, his eyes scanning the distant lights of the city below.

“Why?” he whispered into the empty room, his voice tinged with a desperation he rarely allowed himself to feel. “Why won’t you let me in?”

But the night offered no answers, only the quiet whisper of the wind as it brushed against the windowpane.

—

The next day passed in a blur. You threw yourself into your work, letting the familiar rhythm of chopping, stirring, and plating distract you from the turmoil brewing inside. The restaurant had been busy, as always, with customers filling every table, their laughter and chatter echoing through the dining room. But despite the bustle, you couldn’t shake the heavy weight in your chest—the bond that you were trying so desperately to ignore.

When the last customer had left, you sent your staff home, insisting that you would handle the closing on your own. You needed the time alone, needed to clear your head without the distraction of others around. As the front door clicked shut behind the last of your employees, you finally allowed yourself to breathe.

The kitchen was quiet now, save for the soft sound of the knife in your hand as you prepped ingredients for the next day. The rhythmic motion of slicing through vegetables was soothing, almost meditative. But as you worked, you couldn’t help but feel the tension still coiled tight in your chest.

You were focused on the task at hand, chopping carrots with practiced precision, when a voice cut through the silence, making you freeze in place.

“I bet you could be good with a sword with how you work that knife,” came the familiar, deep voice, tinged with a hint of amusement. “Personally, I wouldn’t want to be those carrots.”

Your hand stilled mid-slice, the knife hovering just above the cutting board. You knew that voice all too well—Azriel.

Slowly, you turned to face him, finding him standing just inside the doorway to the kitchen, his expression guarded but his eyes full of determination. He had changed out of his usual leathers, dressed instead in a simple tunic and trousers, but there was no mistaking the intensity in his gaze.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension from the previous night hung heavy in the air, thick and suffocating. You could feel the bond thrumming faintly between you, a constant reminder of the connection you were trying so hard to deny.

But you knew why he was here. You had been avoiding him all day, refusing to even think about the conversation you knew was coming. But now, with the restaurant empty and the two of you alone, there was no escaping it.

You set the knife down on the counter, wiping your hands on a nearby towel as you steeled yourself for what was about to happen.

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay calm as you faced Azriel. The tension in the room was almost palpable, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy between you. You had been dreading this conversation, but there was no avoiding it now.

“You shouldn’t have come back,” you said, your voice firm, though you could hear the tremor in it. “We can’t do this, Azriel.”

His brow furrowed, confusion flashing in his eyes. “Why not? Y/N, you felt it too. The bond—it snapped into place. We can’t just ignore that.”

You shook your head, your heart aching at the look on his face. “I’m not ignoring it. But I can’t—I won’t act on it. Not when Elain… Not when she’s been trying so hard to win you over.”

Azriel’s eyes widened in realization, and he took a step closer to you, his expression softening as he reached out. “Y/N, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. Elain wasn’t trying to win me over… not in the way you think.”

You hesitated, frowning as you tried to make sense of his words. “What do you mean? She’s been telling me everything, Azriel. How she’s been trying to get your attention, how much she cares about you… I can’t do that to her. I won’t be the one to hurt her like that.”

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his dark hair, clearly frustrated but determined to set things right. “Y/N, you don’t have the full story. Elain… she’s not interested in me like that. She’s been trying to make Lucien jealous.”

You blinked, taken aback by his words. “Lucien? But… he’s her mate. Why would she do that?”

Azriel nodded, his expression softening as he saw the confusion in your eyes. “Yes, he’s her mate. But they’ve been going through a rough patch lately. Lucien’s duties as emissary for the Night Court have kept him away, and Elain’s been feeling… neglected. She thought that by spending time with me, by pretending there was something more between us, she could get a reaction out of him. It was never about me, Y/N. It was always about Lucien.”

You felt your heart drop as the realization hit you. “So, you were just helping her as a friend?”

Azriel nodded again, his gaze steady as he took a step closer to you. “Exactly. I was only doing this to help her. I never had feelings for her in that way, and she knows that. We were just… playing a part to get Lucien’s attention.”

You swallowed hard, the pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place. “She didn’t tell me any of this.”

“She probably didn’t want to worry you,” Azriel said gently. “Or maybe she wasn’t ready to admit it to herself. But I promise you, Y/N, there’s nothing between Elain and me. There never was. She’s still trying to figure things out with Lucien, and I was just trying to help her.”

You looked away, your mind racing to process everything Azriel was telling you. You had been so sure, so convinced that you were protecting Elain by shutting Azriel out. But now, with this new information, everything felt uncertain, like the ground had shifted beneath your feet.

“Azriel, I…” you started, but the words caught in your throat. You didn’t know what to say, how to respond. You had built up walls around your heart, walls meant to protect both you and Elain from the pain of betrayal. But now those walls were crumbling, leaving you vulnerable and confused.

Azriel took another step closer, his voice gentle as he spoke. “Y/N, please. Don’t shut me out. Let’s talk about this—really talk. Give me a chance to show you that this bond isn’t something to be feared. It’s something that could be… everything.”

You stood there, trying to process everything Azriel had just told you. The confusion, the guilt, the realization that you had misunderstood everything��it all came crashing down at once. You looked away from Azriel, your gaze dropping to the floor as you struggled to make sense of it all.

“Okay,” you finally muttered, more to yourself than to him. “Now I actually feel like a dumbass.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you cringed internally. But when you glanced back up at Azriel, you found him staring at you with wide eyes for a moment—before a warm, rich laugh escaped him. It was a sound you hadn’t expected, a sound that cut through the tension and made your own lips twitch into a reluctant smile.

Azriel shook his head, still chuckling softly. “You’re not a dumbass, Y/N. Just… someone who cares a lot about her friend.”

You let out a shaky breath, your shoulders relaxing slightly as the weight of the misunderstanding began to lift. But even with the air between you lightened, you couldn’t shake the lingering worry, the uncertainty of what this all meant.

“I just… I don’t know you that well,” you admitted, your voice quieter now, more hesitant. “And this bond… it’s a lot to take in. I was so worried about Elain’s feelings that I didn’t even stop to think about how I felt. About how to navigate this.”

Azriel’s expression softened further, and he took a careful step closer, making sure not to crowd you. “I understand. The bond is… overwhelming, especially when it comes out of nowhere. And I know we don’t know each other well yet, but that’s something we can work on. We don’t have to rush into anything, Y/N. We can take this one step at a time, if that’s what you need.”

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze fully for the first time since the bond had snapped. There was no pressure in his eyes, no demand—just a quiet patience that made your heart ache with a strange mix of relief and something else, something warmer.

“But… what if this doesn’t work?” you asked, your voice small, the fear you had been trying to suppress finally finding its way out. “What if I can’t be what you need?”

Azriel’s eyes softened even more, and he shook his head gently. “Y/N, you don’t have to be anything but yourself. The bond doesn’t demand perfection—it’s just a connection, a starting point. We figure the rest out together.”

You swallowed, feeling the sincerity in his words. The fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of your mind, but it was tempered now by something else—a tentative hope that maybe, just maybe, this could work.

“Okay,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him, but Azriel caught it nonetheless.

He smiled softly, his wings shifting slightly as if in relief. “Okay,” he echoed. “One step at a time.”

For a moment, you both stood there in the quiet of the kitchen, the bond humming faintly between you. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t without its complications, but it was something. And for the first time since the bond had snapped, you felt like maybe you could handle this—together.

Azriel extended his hand, not as a demand, but as an offer. “How about we start with something simple? A walk, maybe? Just to talk, get to know each other.”

You hesitated for a moment, the anxiety still lingering, but then you nodded slowly, reaching out to take his hand. His grip was warm, reassuring, and as his fingers closed around yours, you felt a little of that fear ease away.

“Yeah,” you agreed, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “A walk sounds good.”

And as you both stepped out of the kitchen, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe—just maybe—this was the beginning of something worth taking a chance on.

[myvoiddreams]

Fragments of Starlight (2)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: After being left behind, the reader is on their own trying to find a way out before it’s too late. The reader grapples with unspoken affection for Azriel.

Word Count: 3,695

Warnings: ANGST, violence, torture, dark themes

A/N: I am so excited with all the positive feedback from Part 1. Seriously, thank you all! I really wanted to focus on building a relationship between Azriel and the reader in this part. That way we can get into the reader’s mind a little bit and justify (if that’s the right word?) some actions between the two of them. Again, I am super new to this and would love feedback on anything! My messages are always open.

Part 1, Part 3

---

Before

I raised my hands ready to strike. Sweat was running down my forehead as the morning sun was already shining hot. I looked at Azriel, shirtless, toned, and glistening in the early morning heat.

Distracting, but honestly, I wasn’t going to complain.

I brought my head down and went in for the strike. My muscles ached as I punched to the right. Azriel made quick work of my hit, dodging to the left. As he went left, I kicked left, bringing my arm closer to my body to maintain some balance. What I didn’t see coming was Azriel’s gasp on my leg pulling my body to the earth.

My back hit the ground with a thump, and the air inside of my lungs escaped me. I could feel the dirt sticking to my damp shirt. Azriel crossed his arms and looked down at me with a smirk on his face.

Oh fuck this.

With a grunt, I twisted my body toward his legs and yanked while he wasn’t expecting it. This movement pulled his body to the earth alongside mine. In one fluid motion I pinned one of his wrists to the ground with my foot. Having to use two of my hands to pin his remaining one next to his head. I also straddled in waist, leaning over him with a smirk of my own.

We were both panting at this point as I stared down into his hazel eyes. Those damn eyes.

“It’s going to take more than making me fall on the ground to actually take me down, you know?” I smirked down at him as I brought my face closer to his, still breathing heavily.

Azriel slightly lifted his mouth toward my ear, panting himself. “There she is,” Azriel purred up at me.

If that wasn’t enough to set me ablaze, I don’t know what would be. I felt a creeping blush find its way up my neck and onto my cheeks. I released him and sat in the dirt next to him.

I couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, “You and Cassian better watch your backs. I’m getting better at this.” My hair was sticking to my face as I tried to wipe it away.

Azriel sit up, “You’ve always been good at this, Y/N.” He faced me and smiled, “Now, where is that winged bastard anyways?”

---

Now

They left me. Tears still ran down my face at the realization that I was not going to be saved. They were lucky to make it out of here with one of us, let alone two. There was simply no way that they would be able to get back into this camp after that. And that if there was anything left of me when they got here. I knew that it was only a matter of time before those males came back in here and realized that Elain was gone and wanted answers. Maybe even just to punish me for seeing it or taking part in it.

As if my mind summoned them, Hybern himself and a male drenched in all back made their way into the tent. I tried to dry up my remaining tears as fast as I could. I had to turn it off. The misery that surrounded not only my body, but my heart. I would not let them see that I was not affected by their treatment of me or my body. I would not let them earn that kind of satisfaction.

“Where is she.” The King demanded, “Where the hell is she!?”

I tried to hide my flinch as the male screamed in my face.

“She’s gone.” Is all is answered, but then, I was feeling angry. “She’s gone, and you will never get your hands on her again. You pig.” I spat. I would not let my eyes leave his.

The King wrapped his hand around my neck, closing off any air. “You’re going to regret that you were ever born, girl,” he snarled at me. My vision was fading, black dots swarmed it. Good. But, before I could find the release that death would bring, he let go. My body gasped for breath, trying to refill it’s empty and burning lungs.

That’s when I realized, the bleeding from my back and abdomen was slowing down. Was I healing? Slowly, but healing. When was the last time they used a blade on me? Half a day ago at this point.

I kept this revelation to myself as the male in all black strode forward and the King left the tent. To my luck, the male only brandished his fists, and no blades. I braced myself for the pain to come.

Relentlessly the male pummeled into me. Opening any old wounds and creating any new bruises he could. I forced myself to go somewhere else mentally. To only scream when I could not forcefully stop myself.

I wish they would have killed me. My mind chided. My mind.

If I was slowly healing, then maybe my mental shields were also coming down. The faebane that had been used on the knife was what was keeping me unable to feel Azriel, to communicate with Rhys, along with heal.

That’s when I truly let myself start screaming, projecting my mind out onto whatever would hear it. I screamed and screamed as loud as I could for anything. For help, for it to all end, for Azriel and Rhysand in any hopes that someone would hear me through my mind.

---

Before

I couldn’t sleep. The House of Wind was my only company as I strode the halls towards the library. If I couldn’t sleep, I might as well read.

That’s when I heard an almost silent gasp and struggle. My heart sunk; it was coming from Azriel’s room. I couldn’t stop myself from walking closer to his door, continuing to listen. He remained making strained noises and grunts. What truly caught my ear was a whimper.

I simply couldn’t stand by. I slowly crept to open the door to his room. Azriel was in bed, shirtless and panting. The moonlight was catching his face, and he looked to be in agony. His bed was in disarray as the sheets were everywhere. Slowly, I made my way to the side of his bed and placed my hand on his shoulder.

“Az,” I let the air catch my whisper. “Wake up,” I slowly added my other hand to his remaining shoulder and shook.

At the movement his eyes ripped open and the next thing I knew, I was pinned to the bed with his blade at my throat.

“Az, it’s just me! You were just having a bad dream. I heard and came to wake you.” I gasped out, feeling the cold bite of the metal on my neck.

As fast as I was pinned down, I was let go. The blade no longer remained at my throat.

“What are you doing in here, Y/N?” Azriel ran his hand through his hair as he placed his blade down on a wooden table next to his bed. “I could have hurt you.”

I moved to sit up on the side of his bed, and I reached for his hand. I pulled him back to the bed, where we sat next to one another. “What was it about?” I questioned him. As long as I’ve known Az, I still wasn’t sure that he would want to open up to me. “We all have bad dreams Azriel. If I can help in anyway, please let me.”

I met his eyes as he sighed. “It was about my hands.” We both looked down, I hadn’t realized that I was still holding them in my own.

“About your scars? Your brothers?” I knew of what happened to Azriel and his hands, why he hated the sight of fire.

“Yes,” he sighed. I instinctually rubbed my thumb over his hands and smiled smally.

He looked so deflated. I hated seeing him this way. Sure, I knew that I liked him, hell maybe loved him at this point, but he was my friend first and foremost. I needed to be there for him.

“Do you usually have a hard time making it to sleep at night?” I questioned him trying to make him meet my eyes again. “I sure do.”

He looked a little surprised at the statement, but at least he was looking at me again. I sighed as I pushed myself back onto his bed and leaned up against the headboard. Azriel furrowed his brows at me in confusion. I only held my arm out to him, beckoning him to lay with me.

My heart was pounding. What the hell am I even doing right now? I asked myself.

But, Azriel listened and I found him with his head in my lap, laying down. My hand found its place in his hair. I played with it, and I struggled to keep my breathing straight. My other hand found his bare back between his wings and my fingers ran along it soothingly.

His husky voice broke the silence, “Thank you, Y/N.” He almost nestled further into my lap, finding some comfort in it.

“I’d do anything for you Az, even if it’s just hold you after a hard night.” I don’t know if I was crossing a line by doing this, but I would cross any line for Azriel.

“I hope you know I would do that same for you too, Y/N.” Azriel mumbled as his breathing steadied, and he found his way to sleep.

My heart felt like it was imploding at the sight of Azriel in my lap, at his words. Then, I felt a hum in my chest that wouldn’t go away. His shadows wrapped around us as I sat there. It snapped around us, this feeling that was like no other burrowed itself into my chest and made a home there. Mate. Azriel is my mate.

---

Now

At some point I must have fallen unconscious. I opened my swollen eyes to the dark. It must have been the following night. As my senses found their place around me, I realized that there was screaming outside of my tent. The dark was slowly brightening into an orange haze. This was no orange of the sun though; it was brightening too fast.

Fire.

The camp must have been set aflame like they did ours. It was going to burn down while I was tied up inside of it. Panic flooded every ounce of me.

How the fuck do I get out of here?

I had more strength than previously, my healing finally quickening. I thrashed in my restraints, opening more cuts along my wrists and ankles. The soreness of being beaten was nothing compared to the sheer terror that had its grasp on me.

The flame struck the tent and all I could do was stare at it.

---

Before

After the Acheron sisters had joined us in the house there was something different. There was a strange atmosphere around the house. Everyone knew that something was coming.

I tried to continue to pretend like everything was normal. I did my best to try and get Cassian and Azriel in the ring with me like normal, but now, they had different obligations popping up.

Feyre and Rhys we’re busy of course with the sisters. Feyre also needed to train her abilities from all of the high lords.

Mor was gone to the Hewn City so often it was like she no longer resided in Velaris. Even Amern made herself busy.

I was struggling with my newfound mate. I wanted Azriel more than anything, but I was terrified of ruining our centuries long friendship. I also wanted to be loved first, not have love forced upon me because of being mated.

I continued my walk through the House of Wind and found myself at Azriel’s door. I came here often enough in the centuries that I might not even knock, but I found myself doing so.

There was rustling before Azriel opened the door. His hair looked disheveled, and he was sporting a look on his face that immediately made me regret coming to him.

“Hey,” I smiled up at him.

“Hey,” he smiled back down at me.

“I’m sure that you’re busy with tasks from Rhysand and all, but what do you say about blowing that off and going on a run?” I blew out. I was tense, and I needed a distraction and my friend more than all.

“Y/N, I’d love to.” He sighed, his shadows dancing nervously around him, “But, I can’t leave. I have to make sure I keep an eye on Elain.”

My heart sank. This wasn’t the first time since the Acheron sister entered the house that Azriel told me no to because of.

“Oh,” I breathed out, trying to hide any of my disappointment, “Okay, I’ll see you later then.” I smiled up at him anyways before I turned on my heel and walked towards my own room.

The bond in my chest that would usually sing in his presence dimmed as I walked away from him. It left me feeling alone.

---

Now

The fire was all around me. The heat was excruciating. There was no way out of this. The wooden support I was chained to caught; it was only a matter of time before I did too.  

I continued to thrash, to try and break free as my hands above me burned. I screamed at the agony in my hands as I forced my arms down again one more time.

The chain came free of the burnt post.

I landed nearly on my face again as I inhaled ash. I tried to catch my breath before looking down. Now just my feet. The pole continued to burn as I trashed until the chain broke around the post.

I still had chains around my wrists, but I was no longer stuck. I took stock of my surroundings. There was a plethora of knifes, swords, and shields in this tent. Surely it must have been the King’s tent before I was strung up.

I couldn’t swing a sword with my wrists tied together, and there was one way I could think of breaking them. I walked toward the flaming post I was tied to and placed the chain and my hands above the licking flames.

I bit my lip from crying out as I let the chains turn red hot. The smell of charred flesh hit my nose amidst the smoke and ash making me gag. My hands were burnt and bubbling, but I could still swing a sword, there was simply no other option. I ripped at the chains as I tore my arms apart. One of the chain-link cracked apart, freeing my hands from being tethered together.

My hands were free, I was free. I set myself into action, I needed to get out if I didn’t want to burn to death. My healing was speeding up. My injuries were still open, but not bleeding. Not tearing themselves back open at the stretching as I moved my body. Though I was still not free of the pain they had caused me.

I grabbed a sword that was next to me and ripped myself free of the tent. There was chaos around me as soldiers tried to put out the flames that were soaring through the camp. It might have been a dark night before this, but the flames were everywhere, it lit everything up.

I took off into a sprint hoping my weakened body could keep up. I prayed that the fire was going to be a good enough distraction that I could keep running until I found true freedom. I screamed in my mind again toward Rhys and Azriel. I could take off into the trees, but them how the hell would I know where to find them.

I took a quick turn to a side of the camp that was not yet lit aflame. I nearly ran into the group of males, but I was able to halt to a stop in time. Breathless, I lifted my sword. My hands were bleeding at their blistered appearance.

“Now, how’d you get out, pretty one?” One of the males snarled at me as he lifted a sword of his own. The group of five surrounded me.

If I wasn’t going to make it out of this fight, they could not have me at all.

---

Before

Azriel finally was able to spend some time with me today. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t excited. We planned on spending it enjoying Velaris. We were going to meet at one of our favorite dining spots. I sat down at a table waiting for Azriel to come. It was strange to me how nervous I was. I tried to keep the humming in my chest to a minimum.

I opened a book from my bag and began to read as I waited. I heard footsteps behind me coming to the table and assumed it was only Azriel.

Then the smell hit my nose, mahogany and vetiver.  Asher.

Asher was an old fling. Something that had to be broken off quickly due to his attitude surrounding women and his massive ego. His hand hit my chair, and he pulled me slightly away from the table and facing him.

“Y/N, I didn’t plan on seeing you today.” He quipped, leaving his hand on my chair.

I crossed my legs and set my book on the table, “Surely I didn’t plan on seeing you for, hmm, the rest of my life.”

“Now, don’t say that” he put his face in mine close enough I could smell his breath. “I know you miss us, what we did together.” He whispered into my ear.

His voice sent shivers up my body, and not the good kind. He made me uneasy. He was a male who always got what he wanted, no matter what anyone else would say.

Before I could open my mouth to retort something back, he was ripped from my space. “I suggest you turn around and walk away.” Azriel’s voice sounded deadly as he pushed Asher away by his shirt.

Asher only brushed himself off like Azriel’s touch made him dirty and walked away without another word.

“Thank you,” I sighed out. “I usually can handle myself in these situations, I don’t know what came over me.”

Azriel only took the seat in front of me, and reached over the table to take my hand, “I know you can, but I’m glad I was here for you this time.” He smiled up at me.

---

Now

They’re coming. I heard Rhys’ voice in my head.

I was like a prayer had been answered as I faced down my opponents. In the sky there were streaks of blue and red surrounding the camp. Cass, he was okay. Relief flooded through me, even with my current predicament.

A male’s sword came down on me, I rolled avoiding the attack and sending my sword into another male’s abdomen on the way down. My wounds sung with pain as they hit the ground. The dirt stuck to my blooded injuries. I could only smell the ash surrounding the burning camp.

While I was down, another sword came at my head. This is it. So close to freedom. I covered my face with my molten hand out of instinct.

Then the sword and male were gone. A blade shoved through the male’s chest and he was strewn aside.

Cassian and Azriel hit the ground with a loud thump as Cassian threw the male aside. Their syphons glowed in night, no matter how bright the flames burned. Their faces were also made of igneous steel as they stared down the males.

A sound of relief flooded out of me as I tried to sit up. Cassian and Azriel blew through the remaining soldiers like they were nothing, until it was just my living form on the ground surrounded by the dead.

Tears welled up in my eyes, from the smoke, or the relief I wasn’t sure.

Azriel reached for my hand to yank me from the ground, but I cried out in pain. He let me go, eyes wide, as if I was a snake that just tried striking. I was shaking, my hands were in very bad shape. The skin was blistering away from the flesh, blood oozing from everywhere.

“It’s my hands.” I cried out, he reached for me again, placing a hand on my cheek, taking my elbow in his other. In one swift motion, I was cradled in his arms, and we were in the sky. My entire form was shaking as so many emotions clouded me.

He came back for me. But he also left me there, where I had to ruin my hands to get to freedom.

“Is Cassian okay?” I cried into Azriel’s chest and let him carry me far into the sky.

“You go through days of torture at Hybern’s hand and the first question you ask is if Cassian is okay?” A small smile shown through a Azriel’s face as we flew further from the burning camp. “Let that be some testament to your strength.”

I let some silence settle between us before speaking up again. “I didn’t think you were going to come back.” I almost whispered it. Tears still settled their way onto my face, leaving a trail in the ash the covered my cheeks.

“I’ll always come back for you, Y/N. I’m sorry I left you there in the first place.” He looked down at me. I saw my reflection in his eyes, broken, hurt, covered in ash. I placed my head back onto his chest and continued to let my tears fall.

I was nowhere near forgiving him. Nowhere near telling him he was my mate like I wish I had while being cut up. But there was no time for that right now. Now, I was free, and we were going to war.

---

Taglist: (sorry if I missed anyone, and please let me know if you want to be added for removed from this list).

@saltedcoffeescotch @thirstyroses-world @kingshitonly @topaz125 @spidersfrommars15 @mariahoedt @missromantasy @turkishgirlslife @melmo567 @breadsticks2004 @secret-sheee @sparksandstarss @cleverzonkwombatsludge @vhjlucky13 @kitcat912 @mummzy-chan @helo1281917 @faridathefairy @popcornlauncher

[yearning-for-autumn]

Would That I -- Part 11

A/N: God this took me aaages to get to a point where I liked it. But here we goooo, finally some interaction between reader and Eris! Thank you so much for your support on Part 1, there will be one more part after this. I hope you enjoy! Based on an amazing ask from @fandomsmultiverse who has the best ideas.

Pairing: Eris x Illyrian!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, masturbation (male), oral sex

Word count: 5k

Part 1 Part 3

Were you jealous?

You could have thrown the letter into the fire. There was no need for a signature for you to know exactly who it was from, and you seethed. After he had kissed her neck, Eris had proposed to Nesta. Proposed. And yet here he was, writing letters, crawling back to you. Imagining him on his hands and knees, grovelling, soothed the hurt somewhat.

You re-read the letter again and again, losing yourself in ever worsening fantasies of Eris begging at your feet.

How dare he.

It stung all the more knowing your answer, deep down, was yes. Knowing that when you had locked eyes with your mate—your mate—all you could feel was the cold sting of envy. He was yours. You hated him. You needed him. You wanted him dead.

You crumpled the letter, then unfurled it and put it in a box, kicking it under your bed.

Cauldron damn and burn him.

The next week you received another letter.

Your silence tells me everything, little fox. And here I was thinking that you hated me. Send my regards to Lucien, I hear he has taken to sheltering in your dingy court.

You huffed an angry breath. But you read it over and over, searching for something. Something to be truly mad about. You came up short. Lucien was spending more and more time at the house of wind these days. Avoiding Elain. You had found a firm friendship trying to help him settle more in Velaris. Cauldron knows your brothers weren’t doing enough to help.

You found him in the living room, reading.

“Your brother sends his regards.” You said, watching intently for his reaction. His metal eye whirred as he looked up from his book.

“Hello to you too.” He said after a pause. “Which brother?”

“Eris.”

“Ah.”

You waited for him to say something more, but it never came. You sat down next to him biting your fingernail, debating whether to let him see the letter.

“Read this. Please.” You said, thrusting it into his hands. He read it, looked up at you, then back down at the letter. His lips curled into a grin.

“Oh, he’s practically begging for you.” He said, still grinning. You scoffed and grabbed the letter from his hands.

“He hates me. And I hate him.” You said decidedly. Lucien stifled a laugh with the back of his hand.

“Ok. So he’s writing you letters for you to...burn, I presume? Just to get you all riled up?” He bit his lip when he saw your murderous expression. “My brother wouldn’t be writing to you if he wasn’t interested in you. Rhysand told me about the ball, about how you were staring.”

“He proposed to Nesta that night, not me.” You said.

“Ah, so you are jealous.” Lucien teased. You growled.

“You are not helping.”

“Sorry.” He apologised, though he didn’t look remorseful, “I don’t know what you want me to say. My brother ruined my life, forced me to watch my love be killed and now he’s mated to someone who hates him. Seems like fair retribution. Send him my love of course.”

He was joking, but you saw through his mask of indifference. His unharmed eye revealed much more than you suspected he knew. He was pleading to speak to his brother. Despite your better judgement, you resolved to write Eris back, if only for Lucien’s sake. Excusing yourself to your room, you picked up your pen and paper.

Lucien sends his love in return. In future, if you wish to speak with your brother I suggest you contact him directly.

It disappeared into the ether and you stared at your desk. Another letter landed in front of you before you could get up. You blinked in surprise. You had spent so long hating this male that you had never spoken directly, reports of his cruelty coming second hand, and yet here he was, his handwriting so hurried you could have sworn he was excited you had written back.

Unlike you, Lucien would burn his letters. I will let myself believe Lucien sent his love sincerely, please let him know I wish to see him. I also wish to invite you to dine with me.

Why in all the realms would I dine with you?

You are my mate, are you not? It has snapped for you also. I saw how you stared at the ball. Nesta is a beautiful female, but you should know I am not the unfaithful type.

You have no one to be faithful to.

You wrote back, cruelty flowing onto the paper. It felt good for a moment, before the bond soured it. You stared at the letters piling up with increasing disdain. Who did he think he was, acting as if you were already his. His reply popped onto your desk moments later.

There you are, unfortunately, most correct, little fox.

---

Eris spent the next few days in agony. He had never expected you to write back, but after seeing the hunger in your eyes that night… If there was any chance you had changed your mind about him, he would be in the Night Court in a heartbeat. Rhysand had been keeping all diplomatic matters at arms length, not allowing any visitation into Velaris. Eris was no stranger to the territorial behaviour of a male with a pregnant wife.

On that note, he was supposed to be shopping to find a gift for his nephew today. He whistled for Cheddar, who brought along Lulu, his youngest. Eris rolled his eyes.

“Ok, Lulu can come too if she must. But both of you will have to be on a short lead.” He said, mostly to himself, but Cheddar cocked her head in an inquisitive gesture that made Eris grin, rubbing her head with both hands.

He was in a small toy shop, full of handmade stuffed bears and wooden doll houses, when the letter appeared unceremoniously in his hands. Excusing himself outside, he slunk into a nearby alleyway to read it.

Lucien has agreed to see you.

Was all it read. His heart leapt into his throat. He scribbled a response on a scrap of spare paper in his pocket and it vanished from his hands before he had time to regret it. The response was immediate.

Rhysand will allow you in Velaris for two hours under strict supervision from Lucien. Tomorrow at noon.

Eris tried to catch his breath, not wanting to admit to himself how overjoyed he was that his baby brother wanted to see him. Not only that, but he was granted permission to enter the Night Court, Velaris for that matter, where you would surely be. He pet Lulu gently, grounding himself. Now to think of an excuse as to why he would be absent from Court tomorrow. In the shop, he picked out a soft brown bear with a doe eyed expression, letting himself believe it was because his nephew loved bears, and not because its glossy eyes reminded him of you.

Beron took the lie surprisingly well; any dealings with the Night Court were beneficial to Autumn, which was dangerously close to having few allies in Prythian. Beron liked Kier, and whilst he looked down on them, appreciated the brutality of the Illyrian armies. Night would be a strong ally indeed. If only he knew exactly where their loyalties lay.

Eris laid in bed, the window ajar, unable to sleep, thinking of you. His mind straying to that night in the Hewn City, how you looked in your silken gown, back deliciously low to show off your magnificent wings. You had been downright sinful, and he had had to remind himself to keep his eyes on Nesta, who, whilst stunning, held no candle to you that night. Not to him. He ran a hand down his chest as his cock stirred. 

Memories consumed him. The heat of the ballroom. Trailing his eyes all the way up the slit in your dress, dragging his gaze to the top of your thigh, no panty line visible. His hand grasped his cock through his slacks as he imagined peeling the fabric back to reveal your unclothed cunt, and he squeezed hard as he saw himself drop to his knees.

“No panties?” His voice was husky. You gave a coy smile,

“Wanted you to have me, Eris.” You breathed. “Wanted you to taste how much I need you.”

Unbuttoning his slacks and freeing his cock, Eris hissed as he pumped his already dripping length. Your pussy would make a delectable mess of your thighs, drooling just for him. He licked his lips and fucked his hand harder as he fantasised. Your moans would be music to his ears as he messily ate you out, tongue laving across your swollen clit, sucking and nibbling as your thighs shook with pleasure.

Debauched sounds filled the room, the wet shlick of his cock becoming the squelching wetness of your pussy as he finally sunk his fingers deep inside of you. He wanted your hands in his hair. He wanted to guide you down onto the floor so that he could feast on you properly, drink you down, consume you. You would cry out, just the thought of it had him squeezing the base of his cock to keep from cumming too soon. His hips bucked into his fist at a punishing pace, his eyes screwed shut and head thrown back in pleasure. 

The bond was thrumming like drums in his chest, heightening every feeling as his thick member pulsed, spurting precum into his hand. It didn’t take long until he growled, his whole body tensing and his cock painting his stomach white with his seed. When he groaned out in pained pleasure, it was your name on his lips.

---

You stood by Lucien’s side, the redhead almost vibrating with nervousness.

“Remind me why I let you talk me into this?” He asked. You smiled gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Because you want to see him. I could tell the moment I gave you that letter. You’re happy he still thinks of you.”

“It’s complicated.” He groused, “We haven’t spoken properly in decades. What if—what if he’s not the male I remember?” You felt your heart break at Lucien’s words, cursing yourself for meddling in his relationships. You just wanted to see him. Once more. To confirm that your hatred was justified. But you pushed that aside, feeling terrible for dragging Lucien into your little game.

“Lucien, he’s your brother. I know you haven’t been feeling so settled here lately, I think seeing him will do you some good.” It was the best you could do, unable to tell him for certain that the Eris you knew was the same doting brother he had told you about. You squeezed his arm and were relieved to feel him relax.

“Will you stay with me, just for a bit?” He asked. You wanted to say no, but you couldn’t, not to Lucien. You smiled at him gently.

“Of course I will. Just don’t expect me to have anything nice to say.” He laughed, but his bright smile faded as he spotted Eris walking up the path, escorted by a deadly looking Azriel. Your breath caught in your chest when you saw your mate, impeccably dressed and ruggedly handsome. Your eyes lingered for a moment too long. Azriel shot you a warning glare, then winnowed away. Eris, finally free of his chaperone, looked at Lucien and you felt nervousness wash down the bond. He dug in his bag and pulled out two small boxes.

“Lucien.” He said.

“Eris.”

“Mother baked apple cinnamon biscuits. They are—were your favourite.” He handed one of the boxes to Lucien, who took it with so much care it could have contained something much more valuable.

Eris turned to you, “I also brought you something.”

Surprised, you were handed a little box of your own. You peeked inside and heat rushed to your cheeks. A small dagger, with jewel encrusted hilt lay on a bed of luxurious velvet. A courting gift. You looked at him incredulously. He was here to see his brother, he hated the very thought of you, why in all the realms was he bringing you courting gifts.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” You frowned, looking down at the dagger as if it had offended you.

“Usually they’re used for stabbing people.” Eris said, with a mask of cool calm betrayed by a tightness in your chest that didn’t belong to you, “But I suppose it would make a pretty kitchen accessory, should you wish.” He quipped. You rolled your eyes.

“I am not a housewife.” You sneered.

“No. That’s not what—” Lucien cleared his throat and saved you from whatever Eris was about to say next.

“Let me show you around Velaris.” He said, diffusing the tension. “It’s not often outsiders are allowed to just waltz in.”

“Of course,” Eris said, “Will you be joining us?” He asked. You shook your head.

“I will spare you the agony, Vanserra.” You turned to leave, but looked back at Lucien, “Do not let him out of your sight. Rhys will have my head if he does anything stupid.”

As soon as you were a few feet away you felt you could breathe easily again. The bond had been simmering, thrilled at your proximity to your mate. It was a constant buzzing and humming in your chest. You were relieved you could no longer feel it, and made sure to send that feeling loud and clear down the connection between you and your mate.

---

In the following three days you received: A small wheel of cheese, a bouquet of marigolds and a pair of amber earrings. Lucien couldn’t stop laughing when he presented you with the cheese, but it had been amazing with some salt and pepper crackers that evening.

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt when Lucien came the next day with another box. He was grinning wildly, barely stifling his laughter.

“I think this might be the worst one yet.” He said, thrusting the box into your hands, “Please open it.”

Eris had been sending the gifts through Lucien, and, like the letters, you had been hiding them from the rest of your family. It felt bad, going behind your brothers backs. But they could never find out that Eris was attempting to court you, for his sake and theirs. Lucien and Eris had managed to start talking again, over the constant gifts and letters. As annoying as it was, you were glad some good had come of it. Though he hadn’t been allowed in the Night Court again.

Lucien was practically rocking on his heels. Inside the box was a knitted headband. It was poorly made, full of holes and oddly misshapen. You frowned.

“What is this?” You looked to Lucien for an explanation but he was doubled over. He took a ragged breath.

“I told him not to send it. I told him it was a shit gift.” He managed before he was wheezing with laughter again. You inspected the headband.

“Did...did Eris make this?” Lucien simply nodded through his tears. You blinked.

“I don’t want these gifts. Please tell him to stop wasting his time.” It felt cruel. But your mind flashed to his lips on Nesta’s neck, his emotionless eyes during the battle with Hybern, your cousin's agonising cries when she had returned in Azriel’s arms that fateful night. You balled the cursed thing in your hand and chucked it back in the box. Lucien bit his lip, not finding it quite as funny anymore.

“It’s tradition in the Autumn Court to send things that are useful, as well as just objects of beauty.” He explained. It was clear which one the headband was meant to be.

“I’m Illyrian. Does he really think a bit of cold is going to hurt me? I don’t want any courting gifts, Lucien, regardless of their use.”

“You ate the cheese.” He murmured.

“We all ate the cheese, Lucien.” Was your quick reply.

He had no retort, and you decided that it was for the best. When you returned to your room, you pushed the box under your bed with the rest of the letters and gifts. The marigolds were wilted and dead for lack of sunlight, the earrings never touched. You could feel the mating bond screaming, begging to be heard, but you pushed it back further. This male would not have any part of you. None at all. You would never be his. No matter how much the thought pained you.

---

You were not reciprocating. Eris had spent all night fumbling around with those stupid needles trying to make something you might actually care for, and your response was silence. He thought back to that night. He knew he had not imagined the hunger in your eyes that almost knocked him dead. Yet how had he repaid you? By kissing Nesta. By proposing to Nesta. 

He had fucked up. As if, after everything you already thought about him, you might have given him a chance.

Yet the bond raged so fiercely, he could barely stand to ignore it for even a day before his chest burned so badly he thought he might drown. It would be a fitting way to go, he thought. To be hated so much it killed him. He had done enough to deserve such a fate.

Weeks passed, then months. Rhysand had been kind enough to let him visit Lucien twice more, once ending in a painfully awkward run in with Cassian that had him leaving earlier than intended. Those overgrown bats hovered around him as if he might try stealing you away the longer he spent in the Night Court. He never managed to catch even a glimpse of you. Not with Azriel or Rhys silently staring, or Cassian barging in every few minutes pretending to need something from the room. He was allowed nowhere without Lucien as his chaperone, he could say nothing without it being overheard. So much for bats, they were more like hawks.

He had stopped sending courting gifts. And he had stopped sending letters.

Cheddar lay her head on his lap, and he stroked her soft head gently.

“Am I just a fool, Cheddar?” He asked, knowing she could do nothing more than side-eye him as he spoke. “What good is it, pursuing your mate who hates you and whose brothers want you dead? Should I let this go?”

Cheddar whined, and thumped her tail. Checking the clock Eris found it was almost time for her walk. Eris glanced at the paper laid on his desk, gathering dust for weeks. He sighed. Once more. Once more he would grovel for your attention, to soothe the pain in his chest, the ache in his heart. Then he would let it go.

Let you go.

Forever.

Join me for a walk. I wish to talk. Eris.

He signed his name, the first time he had ever bothered to. Before he had time to overthink it, it vanished from his desk. His hands shook. Seconds passed, minutes turned to half an hour. Then it came. Popping onto the desk unceremoniously. Your response.

Fine. Where should I meet you?

He replied quickly, Cheddar beginning to get restless.

On the border, there is a doorway from Night to Autumn, I will walk you past the wards.

I will be there.

It was now well past when he would have usually taken the dogs out, but they would be walked, this time with his mate in tow. He stood with a shaky breath, and took the leads off the wall. Winnowing with his dogs to the edge of the Court, he steeled himself. He was ready to face you, to face his one chance to change your mind.

---

You stood at the edge of the Autumn Court. You had told no one where you were. Nor had you told anyone who you were with. Rhys would have a fit if he ever found out, Azriel would never speak to you again. Cassian might have allowed you to go, but not without following you and glaring holes through Eris the entire time.

It was safer for Eris on your own.

You heard his dogs first, then his voice calling after them to slow down. A brindle smokehound bounded up to you, its tongue lolling and tail wagging frantically. They were a beautiful breed, and rare, you couldn’t help the warm smile you gave it. It stopped just short of smacking into your legs and you giggled, holding your hand out for it to sniff. It was a few beats ahead of its owner, who was walking slowly with four more dogs waltzing around him, one calmly at his side. You watched as they ran circles around you and Eris as he came to a stop before you. He gave a short whistle and they stopped dead in their tracks, then retreated to his side. You couldn’t help the short burst of arousal you sent down the bond. Eris gave a cocky smile.

“You came.” He said, his smooth voice giving away no emotion, the bond closed off to you.

“I did.” You answered, unable to block your side of the bond quite as effectively.

“Did you receive my gifts?”

“I did.” You repeated. He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet.

“Well, the dogs will be off leash, I hope that’s alright. They’re usually good, but this one might try and go for the squirrels.” He said, pointing to a gorgeous black dog who pressed it’s long nose into Eris’ hand. You gave the pup a small smile.

You walked in silence for a while, both of you unsure of where to start, what to say to mend the fraying thread that connected you. Golden and ruby leaves crunched underfoot, the dogs panting breaths fogged little clouds in the crisp air. It was truly beautiful. You had always felt a sense of calm when Autumn fell over Velaris, but it could not compare to the serenity of the Autumn Court. It felt as though the whole Court was holding its breath, the season of change, never-changing, unending. Eris let you soak it in, watching as you beheld the forest in all its magnificence, not bothering you with conversation.

“You kissed her.” You said finally, breaking the peaceful silence. Eris fiddled with the leash in his hand.

“I had to.”

“Why?” You asked, the question sounding childish as soon as it escaped your lips.

“There were expectations on me that night I don’t expect you to understand.” The bond was still sealed tight from you, he spoke with the emotionless tone of a well-trained courtier.

“Try me.” You pressed.

“I don’t want to.” And perhaps it was the truth, but frustration built the further you walked, the silence dragging out between you uncomfortably. He had invited you here to talk. So talk he would.

You scoffed. The bond buzzing incessantly at your closeness to your mate, finally right where it wanted to be. But all you could focus on were his eyes, his heated gaze, as he had brushed his lips across Nesta’s bare neck.

“No.” You snapped. “You knew I was watching when you claimed my sister. When you proposed to marry her. You have given me no reason to believe you care for me. Never once apologised for what you did to my cousin. How could I ever trust you? That is what you want, is it not?”

He was staring at you now, no longer averting his gaze, amber eyes cold and calculating.

“I had a duty to my father to propose marriage to Nesta, I have no feelings for her, only for you.” Eris said, carefully ignoring any mention of Morrigan.

“You don’t know me. You know nothing about me. Only that we share this bond.” You argued. One of his dogs trotted up to your side and you pet her head to calm yourself. The action grounded you, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Eris, who felt it deep in his chest.

“I know that you seem to care an awful lot about what I did with your sister, yet claim to detest me” He said, dropping the walls he had carefully placed around the bond.

Nerves. Anger. Disappointment.

“I have waited centuries for a mating bond, and will not let your unfortunate Court affiliations bar me from trying, especially not when you show me so clearly your true desires.”

You rounded on him with anger glinting in your eyes.

“You could never be serious, professing my ‘true desires’, if you knew how much I loathed you, Eris Vanserra.”

Hurt. Pain. Despair.

“You are a power hungry brute who as far as I know has a secret thing for Illyrians.”

There was a pregnant pause. Eris stared straight at you with an expression you could not decipher. He was bathed in dappled golden light. He looked ethereal. You couldn’t help the guilt that washed over you, and you knew he felt it too.

Hope.

Something clicked, his expression shifted and he moved towards you with a darkness in his eyes that sent heat rushing to your core. You stepped back until you hit a tree, your back pressed up against it, and you were trapped. He crowded you, so close you could almost taste his spiced perfume.

“Is that what they have told you, little fox?” He asked, his deep voice low and sensual against your ear, “The only Illyrian I have a thing for is you. The moment I saw you swagger into that meeting as if you owned the place, I knew the Mother had made the right choice. She mocks me with your family, but I would risk their disapproval for just a taste of you.” You sucked in a breath, anger quickly replaced with lust as he pressed against you, and you cursed your body for reacting. You knew he could smell your arousal as his cruel grin widened.

“You feel it too, don’t you little fox.” His scent consumed you as he dropped every glamour, the heady rush of his arousal surrounded you like a drug. “That despite everything you think about me, you want me too. You want this.”

There was nowhere to run, with your back firmly pressed against the tree. There was no escape. That would be the lie you kept telling yourself afterwards as you surged up to kiss his lips, no longer able to resist. You took him by surprise, and used your advantage to spin him around, lips still on his, pushing him against the tree. He looked at you with lust blown eyes, throwing his head back, eyes screwed shut as you squeezed him, hard.

“This is mine.” You growled, the jealousy and need you had felt at the ball rushing back full force, “You are mine. From now on if you so much as sniff around another female I will make sure to show you exactly who you belong to.”

He panted, nodding frantically.

“Yes. Please. Please y/n, I need you.”

You fished his cock from his pants, it was wet and throbbing, the length of it in your hand making your pussy clench in need. He hissed at the cold air. You needed him closer. You needed to taste him. Dropping to your knees, you enveloped him in your mouth, his hands flying to your hair.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuckkk.” He groaned. He pulled your hair roughly, and you looked up at him with doe eyes. You wanted it hard, rough. Wanted him to fuck your mouth as if he hated you. He felt it all through the shimmering golden thread and whimpered.

“You’re killing me, Y/n.” He grit out. With a small smile you bobbed your head, experimentally. A burst of salty precum coated your tongue and you swallowed it with a moan. He was hot and pulsing in your mouth, you pushed your head further down until he was at the back of your throat, your nose bumping against his navel, wanting him to feel the contractions as you swallowed around him. Breathing through your nose, you tapped at the back of his legs. you wanted him thrusting into you.

Slowly, painfully slowly, he pulled his hips back, dragging his cock lavishly across your tongue. With a sharp breath he pushed in, and you met his thrust with a bob of your head, knees aching, eyes watering.

He growled, and picked up the pace until he was fucking your face with abandon. His moans and pants sending slick dripping into your panties. Salt was all you could taste as his dick leaked continuously onto your tongue. He was soaking wet, with your spit, with his slick. It was the messiest blowjob you had ever given, and you fucking loved it. The bond hummed in pleasure as you gagged and drooled around him.

“Sweetheart, fuck, I’m close.” He whined, his thrusts growing sloppy as he ground his hips against your face.

“Gods your mouth, your fucking mouth, you’re gonna make me cum.” You laved your tongue over him, his constant stream of words both amusing and arousing you. You pulled off his cock and held your tongue out, looking up at him, hand pumping him roughly.

“I’m, I’m cumming, shit, Sweetheart, fuck.” He came copiously, so much that you choked on it. You swallowed, watching his eyes darken as you licked your lips.

He leaned against the tree, panting, and you sat on your knees.

This was not what you had planned. Not in the slightest. You had come to tell him to fuck off, to let the bond grow cold and stale. And yet you were on your knees in front of him, the taste of him consuming your senses. What had you done? You knew he could feel the growing fear, spreading through your chest like a chill.

“I have to go.” You stood abruptly.

“Don’t—” You didn’t stay to hear what he said next. You ran to the doorway, and didn’t stop running until you had reached your bedroom in the Night Court.

You opened the door. Rhys stood, a murderous look on his face and letters gripped tight in his fist. The scent of Eris was all over you. You had no way to hide it. His eyes darkened, your desk cracked and splintered then misted into thin air.

“Rhys I—” You scrambled for the right words to say as your brother took a heavy step towards you.

“I can explain.”

Taglist:

@anotherbook-obsessedhoe @glitterypirateduck @homeslices @leeknows-wife @cat-or-kitten @macimads @esposadomd @forever-paramore28 @going-through-shit @fabulouslyflamboyant5 @astarlitsoul @crazylokonugget @imagine-that-100 @sorry--for-the-mess @glittervame @the-sweet-psycho @yamburger @bunnyredgirl @historygeekqueen @acourtofbatboydreams @starrystarkey93 @holb32 @iimichie @goldenmagnolias @theravenphoenix26 @63angel @agoodgirlsguidetomakingmencry @walkerchick007

[fallevs]

assumptions: you don't like waking up early, you like listening to songs on loop, and you appreciate flowers more than the average person :)

Hello and thank you El! ✨️

Partially false! I like to wake up early if I'm not working, so I can take my time eating breakfast and then do my chores without rushing. But for work I'm forced to wake up at 4, and I don't like that very much but I have to do it, sob, and now I'm doing even better! For three years I've been waking up at 2:30 am

True! I get obsessed with different things. Even with songs it's like that! One in particular (youngblood by 5sos) got me so hooked that I drove for an hour listening exclusively to that one!

True! I love flowers, I love to know their meaning, smell them, touch them, but unfortunately I have absolutely no green thumb. It's very black actually. I also make succulents die 😭

[clockwork-ashes]

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XXI

Find all previous parts on Ao3 :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge thank you to the lovely @sad-scarred-sassy who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :) Another huge thank you to everyone reading! ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere / @the-darkestminds /

Elain held onto Lucien’s arm tightly, the small smile he flashed her just before he winnowed brought her a sense of calm. Gold light, warm like the rays of a summer sun, enveloped them both. 

The world scattered around Elain, colours and shapes falling apart only to come together once again as they reached their destination. Her head was spinning, still not entirely used to winnowing. She wondered if that unusual feeling would ever pass, if it would get better as the years trickled by. 

Lucien’s grip was firm, his steadiness not surprising to Elain, but she envied how certain he was over the control of his own magic. The dreams she was having of Lucien were troubling, her imagination running wild, she could barely look at him without wanting to reach out and touch him. She was, at the very least, glad that those dreams provided her a welcome reprieve from the others that plagued her. 

Endless night skies and bottomless lakes. 

Dying leaves and hands made of bone. 

Something was watching. 

Hiding. 

Waiting.

Elain could have shivered just thinking about the nightmares, and as grateful as she was over the fact that no visions tormented her while she was awake, she suspected the fragile hold she had on her abilities would surely snap eventually. She released a small sigh, no longer in denial about what was happening. 

Elain was in need of a distraction, so when Lucien had come to her after having spent the morning with his father and suggested they do something, anything, she was more than happy to join him. His shoulders had dropped with relief, his jaw had unclenched at her quick reply. They were more comfortable around each other, but there was still a bit of uncertainty underlying every one of their interactions. 

That uncertainty was being chipped away the more time they spent together, resentment falling into the rhythms of an honest friendship. Elain had come to the decision that she and Lucien had gone beyond just simple allies, and as she had taken off her mask, he had been more than willing to do the same. 

Elain liked Lucien. 

Getting to the point where she could even admit such a thing seemed like a step in the right direction, the dull pull of the mating bond muted now that they had grown closer. It no longer frustrated her, it simply existed, and slowly learning about Lucien was rewarding as she came to find out how well she knew him despite how little they had spoken in the last few years. 

Elain had guessed that he was desperate to get away from the Forest House, and that as long as there was some distance between himself and the rest of his family, Lucien would allow himself a moment to unwind. 

She had felt him, just as surely as she could feel the ground beneath her feet. Lucien had been on the brink of panic, his anxiety echoing in her skull, and Elain had wanted to reassure him. She willed as much, and it was done. The bond, no matter that it had not yet been accepted, was as gentle as any lover’s caress as Elain reached out towards Lucien with nothing but her thoughts. 

As Elain began to take in their new surroundings, the bridge connecting their two souls was quiet, like the break of dawn, peaceful. 

The gentle breeze was cool against her cheeks, the afternoon sun high in the sky. Autumn was striking in its beauty, ancient and lovely, and the Forest House had been interesting, but it did not compare to the court’s capital city. 

Elain and Lucien were standing on one of the many winding stone paths, young trees planted along the edges to reveal the countless storefronts. Faeries were going about their business, some walking around leisurely while others winnowed in a burst of sparks. 

Elain felt her lips part in awe, amazed that she had lived in Prythian for years and had yet to visit a city outside of the Night Court. 

“You alright?” Lucien asked, checking on her after winnowing a few times to reach their destination. 

Elain hummed in response, nodding absently. 

Hollowed tree trunks had windows and doors, and Elain realised people actually lived in them. A faerie with wings opened her shutters to water the hanging pots along the sill. Small children ran past them, laughing, careless. 

“Lucien,” she started, a breathless edge to her voice, “Lucien, this city is beautiful.” She tilted her head up towards him, his warm smile a welcome sight. 

“I haven’t come in decades,” he admitted, russet eye bright, the golden one whirring softly. 

Had Lucien not revealed the information to her, Elain would have assumed he came often. He walked along the streets with the confidence of someone who was at ease, like he was home. 

Elain adjusted her hold on him, letting her palm trail along his arm before she reached for his hand. As she laced their fingers together, she felt surprise shoot down the bond before it was replaced with a feeling of content. Elain bit her lip at her own boldness, she knew a blush had bloomed along her cheeks. She was glad Lucien said nothing, or else she might have pulled away from him in embarrassment. 

Lucien led Elain towards the city square, where booths had been set up, various items being sold at each one. Small, triangular, burnt-orange flags were attached to long strings and hung between the buildings, reminding Elain of a festival she and her sisters had gone to as small girls. Their father had bought them each a gift; books for Nesta, a set of paint brushes for Feyre, and a potted plant for Elain. She could still remember the little sunflower, how she had placed it by the window in her bedroom. It had been Elain’s first, and she smiled at the memory as Lucien bought them both an apple tart. 

Everyone clearly knew who Lucien was, but no one approached or treated them any differently. Unlike when Rhysand and Feyre walked the streets of Velaris, those in Autumn seemed to make a great effort to mind their business and avoid looking in the direction of the High Lord’s son. Elain wondered if it was because the Vanserra family scared them, but having spent some time in the court, she assumed it was simply them trying to be polite. 

As they walked, Lucien explained what some of the vendors were selling and provided Elain with some much needed insight on Autumn’s unique culture. She took in all of the information happily, enjoying the way her mate seemed to glow as he spoke about something from his childhood. 

“It’s strange being away from the Forest House,” Elain offered as Lucien walked from the city square down a much quieter street. She held a bag of maple syrup candies in her hand, savouring the sweet and salty taste as she popped another one in her mouth. 

Lucien’s eyes tracked the movement and she tried to ensure she did not blush at his attention. He shrugged, doing the same, before he asked, “Good strange?” 

Elain nodded, casting a glance around them as she replied. “Amazing.”

Lucien grinned down at her, his expression full of pride. “I haven’t come since before Amarantha,” he held Elain’s hand tightly as he helped her down a few steps, she clutched her skirts, slippers flashing. “Glad to see that nothing’s really changed.” 

The part of the city they were now in seemed older to Elain, smaller houses made of stone separated shops and restaurants, the trees were taller, looking as though they were holding up the sky. Elain could not be sure how much time had passed, but the sun was slowly beginning to set. The horizon was a mix of orange, yellow, and red, perfectly matching the leaves that continued to fall. 

Lucien’s golden eye clicked as a grin broke across his handsome features and he steered Elain towards a building. He had clearly been looking for it, Elain realised, his voice holding a restrained eagerness as he spoke. “Want to see some Autumn Court magic?” 

Elain breathed a short laugh. “You don’t even have to ask,” she replied, his childlike attitude at the prospect of showing her a little piece of his life was infectious. 

Lucien pushed a carved wooden door open, a bell announcing their presence, and held it for Elain so she could pass. She gripped her skirts as she entered, surprised at the sudden burst of heat in the small space. It was like walking into an oven, a stark contrast to the cool air outside. Her mate followed a moment later, but Elain was too distracted to pay him any mind, especially as a large faerie on the room’s opposite end put unprotected hands into a roaring fire. 

Elain gasped, but her concern was short lived as the man called out without looking in their direction. “We’re closed.” 

Lucien seemed completely undeterred as he glanced around. “Even for an old friend, Castor?” He placed a hand low on Elain’s back and she leaned into his casual touch. 

The blacksmith turned with no urgency, leaving the glowing piece of metal in his hands onto a stone counter. He raised a dark brow, wiping his fingers on an already stained apron. “My eyes must be deceiving me,” he said, and Elain noticed they were a striking shade of red, unlike any eyes she had ever seen. 

Castor walked around the counter, hand outstretched and Lucien pulled the other man close for an embrace. Elain was fully aware he had friends in the court he had been raised in, but she could not help but be a bit surprised that his former acquaintances were not strictly Forest House nobles and high fae. 

Castor’s accent was less sharp than the one she had begun to associate with Autumn, but it was just as lovely. “Mother, it’s been a century about, hasn’t it?” 

“Not that long,” Lucien replied with a laugh, gesturing for Elain to come over. “Thought I’d bring my mate to the city, show her around.” 

Despite the other man’s massive size, he shook Elain’s hand gently, tilting his chin in a small bow. “And you bring the poor girl here?” He was shaking his head, clicking his tongue as he addressed her. “The eastern territories are much nicer.” 

“Guess I’ll force him to take me there next,” Elain smiled and she saw a dark blush stain his light brown cheeks as she spoke. “I’m Elain,” she introduced, not bothering with last names or titles. 

“What can I do for you?” He asked, back to business, gesturing around his forge. Elain was instantly drawn to the battle axes leaning against the wall, although they were all probably much too heavy for her to lift. 

Lucien scrunched his nose, “I was hoping to show Elain some of our more interesting Autumn magic, maybe buy myself a dagger.” 

Castor huffed a laugh. “More knives? I suppose you haven’t changed all that much.” He faced Elain, amusement lining his handsome features. “Eris used to drag your poor mate here to watch me make weapons, he’d sit right on the counter, legs crossed, the most well behaved youngling I’d ever seen.” He shook his head at the memory, and Elain could imagine it clearly. She knocked her shoulder playfully against Lucien’s arm. 

“Eris swears I was a little monster,” Lucien laughed, thinking about some of the better times in his past, Elain was sure. 

“Your brother’s a liar,” Castor waved a hand dismissively, “I should know.” He flashed Elain a shy smile, another blush on his cheeks as he made his way behind the counter once more. “Take a look around,” he offered, “let me finish the blade I was working on and I’ll be right with you.” He was doing it for her benefit, surely, and Elain was glad he was taking the time to do so. She had not expected kindness in the Autumn Court, but was increasingly surprised by how much she liked spending time in a place she had been convinced she would despise. 

Elain watched with fascination as Castor forged the long piece of metal into a sword. Time passed, but she could not be sure how much. He explained in great detail what he was doing, and she enjoyed the small lesson. Lucien told her about the history of blacksmiths in Autumn, declaring with great confidence that they had the best metalworkers in all of Prythian. Elain believed him, unsure how anyone could be more talented than those who possessed flame in their blood. 

Once Castor had finished with the sword, Lucien took Elain to a shelf with daggers, asking for her opinion on which one was nicest. She chose one with diamonds along the silver hilt, surprised at how easily her mate encouraged her to swipe at the air with it, doing the same afterwards when he told her to lift one of the battle axes she had been eying. 

The genuine encouragement shocked her momentarily. Elain could not imagine her family allowing her to even touch one in Night. She did not like violence, but she had always been charmed by things that were lovely. 

“You forged all of these?” Elain asked Castor, forgetting herself entirely as she dropped to her knees in front of a particularly beautiful axe. She imagined swinging it at Beron, at how absurd it would have been to any onlookers. She could admit that it would have solved the problem with her and Lucien’s ever more quickly approaching wedding. She traced the ancient writing on the silver, making sure to keep her fingers away from the sharp edge. Castor hummed his response, and Elain smiled back at him. “They’re very pretty.” 

“If you like the axe so much, I can buy it for you,” Lucien offered, she could hear the joke in his tone, feel the amusement that trickled down the bond. Elain would not have been able to lift the axe in front of her even if all their lives depended on it. 

“Maybe next time,” Elain said with a smile, gripping Lucien’s outstretched hand to stand up. She straightened her skirts as Lucien paid for his dagger, and Elain figured it was probably getting late. 

Castor wished them well, ordering them to return again and to tell Eris to show his face in the city more often. As they walked out of the blacksmith’s shop, Elain waved, hoping they would be back soon. It was almost surprising that she would want such a thing, especially since when she imagined returning, Lucien was at her side. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind, deciding it would be best to examine it at a different time. 

“You up for one last stop?” Lucien asked, offering her his arm like a perfect gentleman. 

Elain hooked her elbow through his, smiling as she nodded her head. 

Once again, he led her through quieter streets, and now that the sun was just about ready to hide behind the horizon, torches slowly sparked to life as faeries rushed home for the evening. 

Lucien turned a corner and Elain would have stopped in her tracks to marvel at the sight in front of them had he not continued his steady steps forward. 

There were no more shops and houses, no more people, only endless forest. Different types of trees created a thick maze, one Elain would not have dared approach otherwise. It was ancient, thrumming with a magic she recognised as belonging to Lucien, to his family. 

The path they were walking on was lined with jewelweed and it did not end until it reached a fountain carved from pale stone, the last faerie-made object before Autumn overtook her line of sight. 

It was romantic, so thoughtful. No one had ever done anything so kind for her, certainly not anyone she had been courting. She had to remind herself that Lucien was doing no such thing, that they were simply good friends spending a day together. 

Water fell from each layer of stone, but it looked like burnished gold, like something out of a story. She could not help the breathless “oh” that fell from her lips, moving away from her mate and towards the fountain. 

“From the coins,” Lucien explained. “One wish in exchange for a mark made of gold.” With a flash of his sunbright magic, two coins appeared in his hand and he offered them to her with a little bow at the waist. 

Elain was so unbelievably grateful for the effort he had gone to in order to show her the place he had been raised in, her heart was pounding as her eyes fell to the male she had never wanted as her mate. 

My mate. 

Elain did not reach for the coins, she simply got onto the tips of her toes. Placing her hand on Lucien’s shoulder to keep her balance, she heard as the breath caught in his throat, she felt as shock filtered down the bond. 

Elain pushed aside her nerves, let her eyes flutter shut, as she gently pressed her lips to the corner of Lucien’s mouth. She was not yet bold enough to take the things she wanted, her upbringing warring with instinct. 

“Lucien,” she said softly as his one hand came to rest on her waist. She kissed him again, in the same spot, feeling the scar that cut through his full bottom lip. She urged him to take control, pressed herself entirely against him. He was familiar and she was struck with the feeling that she had known him in a different life, that the fates existed and she would have found a way to meet Lucien under any circumstances. 

Lucien’s hand fell to her hip and he brushed his mouth against hers. Elain wrapped an arm around his neck, the taste enough to make her release a whimper. She could hardly remember the last time anyone had made her feel good about herself, confident. 

Elain returned the kiss, starved for her mate, desperate to be closer to him. She traced the seam of his lips with the smallest flick of her tongue, pulling away as pure desire roared through her veins. Unable to face Lucien just yet, she put her face against his chest, and he hugged her in return. 

“Today was really nice,” she murmured, an understatement. She would remember the day they had spent together for the rest of her immortal life, would look back on it fondly, with no regrets. Elain felt as he hummed in response, the sound ringing in her ears. “Thank you,” she added. 

“You still want to make your wish?” Lucien asked, his voice strained. Elain smiled at the effect she seemed to have on him, glad that it was at least mutual. 

She moved away, letting her fingers trail along his shoulder before she reached for the gold coins he held out for her. His heart was beating rapidly, the rhythm matching her own. 

Elain took the one coin, still not meeting his eyes. She tucked a stray curl behind her pointed ear, biting her lip. “What should I wish for?” 

“For whatever you like,” he replied with an elegant shrug. “Just don’t tell anyone after.” He tossed the golden mark, and Elain’s ears strained to hear the sound of it hitting the water. She was curious as to what he might have wished for, but she knew the superstition and feared he would simply tell her if she asked him to share. 

Elain took a deep breath, considering her wish carefully. She hoped Lucien and her could return to the city, that they could spend more time together exploring the Autumn Court. 

Elain traced the rim of the coin with her finger, confident in her wish. She could feel Lucien’s eyes on her as she threw it towards the fountain. 

Elain watched as the coin seemed to flash in the light of the setting sun, falling into the gentle stream of water, golden like the bridge that connected her soul to Lucien’s.  

[7seas-of-ryy]

I Need You | Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Author’s Note: I can't thank you guys enough for reading my writing. I'm looking forward to your thoughts on this part <3

Summary: You were saved but you still have so many questions. Trying to sort everything out might be harder than it seems.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Talks of torture, self hatred, angst, let me know if I need to add any others :)

"I've healed her as much as I can. Now she needs rest." you heard Madja speak

Darkness.

"I failed her, Rhys" you heard Cassian cry softly

Darkness.

"Thank you for saving her" you heard Feyre gently speak

Darkness.

"I forgot about her, then let Elain convince me to stay for longer. Let her convince me that y/n would be ok waiting a little bit longer for me." Azriel yelled

Well, that explains why he didn't show up.

"She's awake" Rhys stated

Both of the Illyrian males hurried over to you.

"Hey sunshine, how are you feeling" Your High Lord and good friend smiled softly down at you

"I'm fine" you whispered, voice hoarse from all the screaming you had been doing

Rhys hesitated, clearly knowing you were not fine. He didn't want to push you but he couldn't leave you alone after everything that just happened.

"Cassian told me most of what happened but there are certain parts he can't fill in. I don't want you to have to relive it but it might help us figure out why you were their target" he spoke so softly, as if speaking too loud would break you

Once he asked to see, it all hit you. The questions about Nyx, so many questions about him, you started to panic. Tears filled your eyes. He needed to know, he needed to understand that you didn't tell your torturers anything. You started hyperventilating, panicking, you had to let him know you were strong enough to withstand the pain.

"Rhys I promise I never broke. I never told them anything. No matter how much they hurt me, I swear. They asked so many times but I never broke, I swear I promise I was strong-" your sobs cut you off and Rhys bent down and pulled you into a tight hug.

"Shh I know. You did so well, please don't worry about any of that" he spoke into your neck, his own tears now pouring down his face.

You couldn't control yourself. Still terrified of saying, doing the wrong thing. You were shaking and crying hysterically. You knew they needed to see what you were tortured over so you sent the thought out hoping Rhys would understand what you were doing. He knew immediately, standing up and giving you a small nod.

You showed him everything, still shaking and crying. Azriel reached out for you and you let him. You needed anything, anyone to anchor you. He wrapped his arms around you and you cried in his chest.

Azriel looked at Rhys and saw the pained look on his face as the scene was happening in his head. Once he saw it all, he ran out of the room muttering something about a sleep tonic. The shadowsinger held you even tighter as if he could put all the pieces of you back together.

"I'm so sorry, you needed me and I wasn't there. I'm so sorry, so so sorry...." He kept repeating. You wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, to help take away the guilt he was feeling but all you could think about was Cass repeating that same thing in the dungeon.

Just like that, the terror built up inside you. Your mind tricking you into thinking you were back in the chains being tortured. You started kicking and screaming, Azriel holding you down so you wouldn't hurt yourself.

"Rhys, you got that sleep tonic? Anytime now!" He shouted hoping his friend was coming

Moments later, Rhys winnowed in the room with Madja. Once she assessed the situation, she looked grim.

"Sleep tonics will not work, this is too severe. Move, boy." Madja spoke, pushing the spymaster away and setting her hands on you.

You started to settle and slowly fell asleep.

"This won't last long. I can only fix the physical pain or symptoms. Her mind tricked her body into thinking she was being tortured again. I eased that pain but it will take a lot more to ease the pain inside her," the healer looked at them with sorrow, "I'm sorry but this is as much as I can do for her."

Azriel immediately sat in the chair next to your bed, holding your hand with both of his. Rhys patted him on the back and left to try and figure more out.

You slept for 2 straight days, with Az never leaving your side. He couldn't believe he let this happen. You were his best friend, and more than that he had always been in love with you. After everything with Mor, he couldn't risk getting hurt again or losing you so he pushed his feelings away. It was the most painful thing he had done and once Elain came along he thought it would be easier to keep himself wrapped up in her.

He deeply regretted that now. You would hate him now. He forgot about you, left you there alone. He wouldn't be surprised if you never spoke to him again.

Lucien slowly entered the room, "How is she?" he asked Azriel

"Not great but she'll get there... thank you," his voice broke, "I haven't gotten a chance to tell you yet, thank you for saving her"

Lucien nodded at the male, a solemn look upon his face, "She didn't deserve any of this. I knew you and Elain had been spending time together and it pissed me off. She's my mate, but I knew she wanted you and not me, so I suffered in silence because I thought I deserved it..." he paused, "Y/n has always been kind to me. Accepted me the moment she saw me with Feyre. Offered her company when she knew Elain was away with you so I wouldn't have to be alone. She did not deserve any of this. She did not deserve to be pushed aside and forgotten."

Azriel stared at him, stunned. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it not knowing what to say, opened it again, "...I-"

"Do not hurt her again." Lucien stated, cutting him off and walked out of the room with one last look at you.

His shadows swirled around him, covering his neck to comfort him. They had been all over you for the most part. Wrapped around your arms and legs or nuzzled in your hair. After a while they whispered to him, she's waking up.

Your eyes slowly opened and the male at your side quickly stood to grab you some water. He helped you sit up in the bed against the wall and you both sat in silence for a while. You could tell he hadn't been sleeping, the bags under his eyes were the worst they had ever been.

"Sunshine" Az said, and it made you flinch.

You felt like your soul was the darkest its ever been. You weren't sunshine, you were storms and pain. You felt disgusted with yourself, hated yourself for being caught so easily. For allowing Cassian to be taken and have to witness everything. You hated yourself for causing everyone so much trouble and pain. You wished you died in that dungeon.

Cassian, Rhys, and Feyre all walked in. Feyre had a kind, hesitant smile, Rhys looked relieved that you were awake and not freaking out, and Cassian wouldn't even look at you. You assumed he was probably upset with you for dragging him into this and getting him tortured.

"Do you know why they picked me?" you asked quickly, so you wouldn't have to keep seeing their sad looks

"We're still not entirely sure. We know they were trying to find out things about Nyx but they could have taken any one of us for that." Feyre stated

"Maybe they thought I was the weakest and easiest to get answers out of?" you guessed.

"No, it felt very personal towards you y/n. It was like he hated you, don't get me wrong, he enjoyed beating me up but he was ecstatic to hurt you" Cassian spoke, still avoiding eye contact

"How did Lucien even find us?" you asked

"All he said was that Eris sent him a location and told him he needed to get there right away but that no one could see him there. Once he got there, he heard your screams and ran to save you. We've been trying to contact Eris but he hasn't responded." Rhys spoke

"I'm going to find whoever did this, and I'm going to slowly tear them to shreds" Azriel growled softly, still holding your hand.

"I don't understand what I did wrong-" you voice wavered and there it was. The look everyone was giving you made you feel sick. They knew you were broken now, you couldn't hide it anymore. You coughed to try and cover up the weakness in your voice.

"But we'll figure it out and I'll be ok. We'll all be ok. Now, I'm starving so I would love to join you guys for a meal tonight." You tried to smile at them. You needed them to think you were fine, that you were strong. They didn't need a weak link in their group. The last thing you wanted to do was eat but you figured that might convince them you were all good.

The four of them stared at you as if you grew a third eye on your head.

"Maybe you should take it easy, I can bring some food to you" Azriel suggested.

"Yeah that would be easier" the rest of them agreed.

"C'mon guys seriously, I'm fine. Give me a couple minutes to get dressed and I'll head down. I can try to help figure out what this is all about before we eat." you said weakly

"No. You are staying up here and resting. If you are hungry, one of us will get you food." Rhys commanded in a tone that left no room for negotiation.

"Is that an order from my High Lord or an order from my boss" you asked harshly

"It's an order from your friend." he softly stated, "let us know if you need anything"

The three of them left but Az stayed at your side. You didn't want to be alone but you also didn't want anyone to see you fall apart, which was about to happen any minute.

"Az, can you give me some time alone? I just need to think" you felt bad but you needed to be strong

Azriel gave you a sad smile, nodded, and headed for the door. The second it clicked shut, your facade fell apart. You began softly crying, you laid there all night like that until you finally cried yourself to sleep.

You didn't see the lone shadow in the corner of your room watching over you, and you didn't know Azriel slept outside your room on the floor all night long just in case you needed him.

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[serpentandlily]

Untouchable VIII - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister!Reader

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court’s spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he’d eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on—with Elain, your brother’s mate’s sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that—more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst angst angst

a/n: Hey guys! Sorry I took so long to update this story. I got major writer's block for it :(( This chapter is short but I wanted to get something out to you guys. We're almost at the end though! One more part after this and then an epilogue <3 Thank you guys for all the kind words/support! I don't have a lot of free time so I'm shit at replying to your comments/asks but I promise I read them all and they make me so happy! Hope you enjoy!

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part VIII

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You stumbled backwards, away from the evil sorcerer who was hovering above the lake. You frantically looked at Cedric. “Please, Cedric, what is this?”

He didn’t even look your way. You kept stumbling back until you knocked into the hard chest of one of the guards. He grabbed you by the upper arms, locking you in place despite your attempts to wiggle free.

“I brought you the girl,” Cedric said to Koschei. “Now it’s time to uphold your part of the deal.”

You twisted to look up at the guard. “Deal? What deal is he talking about?”

But the guard ignored you too. 

Koschei waved a dismissive hand at Cedric, his eyes still lingering on you as if you were the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. "Yes, yes. You will have my support to overthrow your father."

"I need more than just your word," Cedric grumbled. "I'm not handing over the girl until you make a bargain with me." 

Koschei laughed under his breath. "You wish to make a bargain with me?" 

While the sorcerer's attention was elsewhere, you realized this might be your one and only chance to break free. 

You threw your cuffed arms up around the head of the guard holding you in place and bucked forward as hard as you could, effectively tossing him over you and onto the muddy ground. A move Azriel had taught you once. 

You ignored the shouts and yells as you darted off towards the wooded area that surrounded the lake. You couldn't winnow away, not while the faebane handcuffs were still on you. But maybe you could run and hide, buying yourself some time to think of an actual plan to escape. 

You darted into the trees, forcing yourself to run as fast as you could. The air was cold, making it hard to breathe but you pushed yourself forward. You could hear the pounding of feet running behind you. You chanced a glance over your shoulder to see the three guards chasing you but no Cedric or Koschei. 

One of the guards winnowed into the clearing in front of you, causing you to scream as you ran straight into him, knocking both of you on the ground. You rolled off him before he could grab you and winnow you away, pushing yourself to your feet. The guard snarled, getting off the ground faster than you considering his hands were free. 

"Don't you run," he growled at you. 

You took a step back. Another.

Rhysand! Help!

You screamed and screamed for your brother in your head, even though you knew he wouldn't be able to hear you from this distance. You were fucked. 

"My brother will come for you if you don't let me go," you hissed at the guards, keeping out of their reach. They were circling you like they were predators who had just found dinner. 

One of the guards scoffed. "With Koschei on our side, your brother won't be able to do anything to us."

"Koschei is offering his support to Cedric to kill the King," you shouted back. "Not to help Vallahan fight against the Night Court and its allies once my brother has realized what you've done!" 

That seemed to make the guards pause for a second, the three of them exchanging glances as if now just realizing how stupid the Prince's plan was. Mor knew you were going to visit Cedric. That's where they'd look for you first once they didn't hear from you. And you knew your brother would rain hellfire down on the Prince's territory to get you back. 

Suddenly a loud noise cracked in the air like two boulders smashing against each other, causing the ground to rumble. You fell, your legs collapsing, as three people winnowed into the clearing. You let out a cry of relief. Your brother stood in his fighting leathers, looking ready to murder with Cassian by his side. But it was Azriel who made you falter.

You had never seen him look as angry as he did now—it almost spiked fear in you despite knowing none of it was directed in your way. He looked feral, unhinged. 

The three guards around you were misted by your brother before you could even blink. Their blood rained down on you, still slightly warm. You gagged, rolling over and trying to push yourself to your feet.

“Y/N!”

You heard your brother shout but his warning came too late. 

You felt someone grab you by your hair, lifting you off the floor. You let out a cry of pain, your cuffed hands rising to grab the attacker by their wrist to get some of the pressure off your scalp. You were turned forward to face your brother and the two Illyrians just as the cold metal of a dagger was placed against your throat.

“Don’t move,” Cedric ordered and you realized it was him who had you in his grasp. 

“Get your hands off of her,” Azriel growled. It was dark and full of primal rage. You knew Cedric felt it by the way his body shuddered in response but he held his ground. 

“I don’t think so, shadowsinger,” Cedric hissed.

Azriel’s shadows poised around him like venomous snakes ready to attack. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your nerves on fire. But still, the pain of seeing Azriel fought its way through despite the dire circumstances. The image of him and Elain together was enough to almost fold you into Cedric’s embrace. 

Perhaps death would be a mercy compared to the anguish building in your chest. 

You focused on your brother instead. His violet eyes were hardened with rage, his entire body tense. “Let my sister go, you bastard, and I’ll consider making your death swift and painless.”

Cedric chuckled, his hand in your hair tightening causing you to whimper at the sharp pain. Azriel took a step forward at the noise but came to a halt, his eyes drifting to the area above your head. 

You felt it then, that dark presence. The foreboding. You knew Koshcei was in the clearing now. Could feel his horrid magic in the air. This was a powerful death god sorcerer and despite your brother being the most powerful High Lord, he was no match with a God. None of them would be. 

“Kill them,” Cedric demanded as he too realized Koschei was here.

But the death god did no such thing. Instead, you felt his darkness wrap around you, encompassing you into its hold. You let out a cry of fear, calling out for your brother. 

“The girl belongs to me now,” Koschei said. “Leave and never return or I will do more than just keep her as a little pet.”

“Why do you want her?” Rhysand switched into his diplomatic role, realizing a fight would not be won here today. “Whatever you need her for, I’m certain I can do it all the same. Better, even.” 

He was…He was offering himself over to the sorcerer in place of you?

“No, Rhys,” you cried out. “Just go!”

But you were ignored. 

“Unfortunately,” Koschei drawled. “I do not have a taste for males otherwise I would take you up on your offer. But your sister will do just fine. There is nothing you can give me for her. I don’t think you even realized what a prize she was—what sort of power she holds.” 

“Anything,” Rhys begged. “Please, I will give you anything. You want my armies, you can have them. You want my court, take it! Just give her back. Please.”  

You couldn’t believe the words coming from his mouth. Rhys would never give up his power, would never give away his court and his people. But here he was, offering up all he had for you. You had caused this. You had made the mistake of running away to Cedric. This was all your fault.

“Get him out of here!” you shouted to Cassian and Azriel. 

All you could think about was your brother’s lovesick bargain with Feyre, of his death leading to hers, of Nyx left with no parents. No…Rhys needed to get out of here before things got worse. You tried to convey your thoughts to the other two Illyrians with a single look. Cassian gave you a dip of the head in understanding, evidently having the same thoughts.

Azriel wouldn’t look at you, his rage filled eyes focused on the sorcerer that held you. 

“Anything,” Rhys pleaded again, surging forward. But Cassian gripped him by the shoulders, holding him back. “I’ll give you anything.”

Your eyes darted between the three of them. At Cassian’s look of despair and uncertainty, Rhy’s pleading face and Azriel….Azriel who was shrouded in his shadows, who circled him in a frenzy—his eyes darkened, his lips twisted in a snarl. He took another step forward. 

“Let her go,” he growled. You swore the birds in the clearing took off fluttering, as if they knew the sort of darkness that was coming. But Koschei let out a small noise of understanding before he chuckled—an awful noise. 

“What an interesting turn of events,” Koschei purred, his grip on you tightening. 

“Kill them,” Cedric hissed, slight panic in his eyes. If Koschei left him behind, you knew your brother would tear him to pieces. 

Koschei chuckled again, as if realizing the same thing. In the end, he would get what he wanted without having to follow through on his half of the bargain, not if Cedric was dead. 

“Say goodbye to your brother,” Koschei laughed in your ear. “And your lover and friend. You’ll never see them again.” 

“I’m sorry, Rhys,” you cried. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

Rhys fell to his knees, Cassian still holding him back with his lips pressed in a thin line. You felt Koschei’s shadows wrapping you up, spreading up your legs. Time was running out. Azriel stepped closer with another growl.

“I will kill you for this,” he promised, his eyes shifting from Cedric to the sorcerer. “Let her go!”

Your voice caught in your throat. All the words you wished to say to him with it. You loved him, still, even after knowing these past few months had all been a lie. Your heart was broken, stomped on, discarded by the only one you had ever given it to—but you loved him. You always would. 

He finally looked at you, his hazel eyes so full of rage but you saw it then, the fear. 

“Take me,” Azriel shouted. “Take me instead!”

Koschei laughed again. “Oh, but it is much more fun this way, shadowsinger.” 

His shadows spread over your torso, up your neck, nearly choking you. Tears ran down your face; you were gasping for air. You took one more look at Azriel. One more look at the male you loved with all your heart. One last look because you knew you’d never see him again.

Azriel met your gaze—fear and anguish written all over his face. And just as the shadows began to darken your vision, something snapped into place. Something gold and bright. A thread that extended from your chest and speared right into the shadowsinger. A mating bond. 

Azriel’s grip his chest, his eyes wide, as he stumbled back a step. You watched him realize it at the same time as you. Something burned on your hip and you realized you were feeling Azriel’s bargain tattoo dissipating. He screamed your name as Koschei laughed one more time, swallowing you in his shadows.

Azriel’s pained roar shook the trees of the forest around them and echoed all the way to the small cabin on the lake, where you were thrown to the hard flooring, still shackled and trembling. 

Koschei stood over you, his face a painted picture of glee and lust. He tsked, circling around your weeping form. Your thoughts were filled with Azriel. With your mate. You could feel his horror, his rage, his anguish, all through the bond. 

“Did you know,” Koschei purred, “that Cedric and his family are quite exceptional at illusions? The magic runs in their family.”

You were crying, panting—barely able to hear his words. 

“No, I suppose you didn’t,” Koschei laughed. “Those images of you walking in on your mate with that little fawn were never real, my dear. You fell for Cedric’s tricks and now you’re here. You’ll never see your mate again.”

Those images of you walking in on your mate with that little fawn were never real, my dear.

You hunched over, falling limp against the floor as sobs racked your body. You had lost everything, everything, tricked by that stupid Prince. You couldn’t breath, couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything except the crushing weight of your despair.

 And all you could hear were those final words. 

Over and over and over again.

You’ll never see your mate again.

You’ll never see your mate again.

You’ll never see your mate again.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

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[azrielsdove]

Ive been loving all the fics youve been posting. I had this lil idea that hopefully sparks joy for you if ur requests are open. Its an azriel x reader. Where reader is very cold hearted and kinda mean almost bitchy like nesta. Hates to be touched eapecially on her back. Azriel hates her cuz she so unpleastant and so incredibly difficult. The bond snaps for azriel and hes so so confused because he for sure thought elain was for him. Reader always looks at azriels hands almost disgusted but the truth is that she had her wings cut off and the stumps burned down to her flesh, so her entire back is scarred like azriels hands. Her face isnt of disgust but since he hides his hands she assumes he'd be disgusted in her. Azriel softens up to her when he finds out she has a soft spot for children, maybe she teaches orphaned children in the city. Idk i just like the idea of a cold hearted reader thats just as scarred as azzy but actually has a soft heart for kids. Or maybe shes always longed for a family of her own but cant get passed her own insecurities. You can change whatever you'd like to fit your writing style. ❤️

Thank you love!!!! I am OBSESSED with this idea and took off with it. I decided to turn it into a mini series, when I started writing the Readers POV it was getting wayyyy long. I hope I have done your idea justice, here is part 1 <3

Cold Hearts: Azriel x Reader

Chapter Warnings: None

Pt. 2 Here

***

Azriel couldn’t stand her. She was nothing but cold and hateful to everyone, especially to him. When she had first come to stay with Rhysand in Velaris, he had tried to be kind to her. Rhys hadn’t told anyone why he brought her, and she certainly never opened up about it.

The first day he met her, she was sitting silently in the small library in the House of Wind. Azriel had smiled at her and given a “Good morning.” She had turned sharply to look at him, her gaze focusing on the hand he waved with. He watched the look of disgust come over her face before she turned back to staring into the fire.

Azriel had been a little taken aback. Sure, he struggled with the way his hands looked, and was no stranger to the dirty looks. The look on her face had been nastier than he had ever seen. She looked at his hands like they caused her pain. He left the library after that, not sure what to think.

Many years had gone by since that first meeting, and Azriel preferred to stay far away from her. No one else wears very fond of her either. He still didn’t know why Rhys had brought her here, nor why he allowed her to stay. She spent most of her days locked in her room or sitting in the library. She occasionally came to meals with the family, rarely speaking. And when she did speak? It was always some cold remark, as if she wanted to be anywhere else with anyone else.

So why did she stay?

Azriel pondered that question far too often. When Rhys became trapped Under the Mountain, he had included that everyone should be prepared for war in his last message. Azriel took it upon himself to train her. He had shown up to her room early in the morning, expecting a fight. To his shock, she willingly came.

She took to training quicker than Azriel had thought. She proved to have some skill under that cold shell she showed everybody, even if it took some coaxing for it to come out. He was impressed. Azriel even started enjoying teaching her, until the day she lashed out at him and declared she never wanted to see him again.

He didn’t know what he had done wrong.

He was trying to teach her a slightly difficult new maneuver. She was struggling to angle her body the correct way, unable to understand how Azriel did it. He had reached out to help her, placing a hand on her lower back and shoulder to move her body into place. She shot out of his grasp like he had stabbed her, whipping around to face him.

“What do you think you are doing?” She had seethed, eyes on fire. Azriel had held his hands up in surrender, confused.

“I was just trying to help-“ He had begun, being cut off by her.

“Don’t. Don’t fucking touch me.” She had glared at his hands, a stare he didn’t miss.

“I don’t understand why you must be so insufferable all of the time!” Azriel had snapped, fed up with the constant negativity and judgement that came from her.

“Maybe don’t be a nasty pig and grab up on any female you see!” She had shouted, turning to leave the ring. “Stay away from me. I don’t wish to see you anymore.”

And that was that.

Cassian had taken over her training from then on out. Azriel was fine with it. She clearly had some sort of issue with him, and it seemed to stem from his hands. His ugly, scarred hands. Were they really so grotesque she couldn’t even stand him touching her?

***

When Rhysand had returned from Under the Mountain, things got better and worse. At first, she had been kinder. Azriel had noticed how she rushed to Rhys before anyone else, how carefully she wrapped him in her arms. The two of them had disappeared after that, not seen until the next day. Azriel couldn’t figure out why the two of them had such a bond, why Rhysand cared for her so much. He had just come back and announced that the human girl - Feyre - was his mate, so it couldn’t be a romantic attraction.

Or could it?

Azriel shook his head, demanding those thoughts the leave his mind. Ignoring the spark of jealousy that ran through him. He didn’t know why he cared so much about her.

***

Elain. There was no doubt in Azriels mind that Elain was his. Rhysand had Feyre, Cassian had Nesta, naturally Azriel would have Elain. It didn’t matter that the cauldron had mated her with Lucien. Three sisters, three brothers. Anyone could read what that meant.

Azriel tried not to notice the way she had slunk into the shadows lately. When Feyre first came to the Night Court, the two had struck up a friendship. Azriel couldn’t believe his eyes and ears when he saw how fun and sweet she was with Feyre. It further confirmed his belief that she was so disgusted in his scars that she couldn’t stand to be near him. She had even started to being nicer to Cassian, her training with him going much better than yours with Azriels had.

Once the bond snapped with Feyre and Rhysand, she had taken a small step back from the both of them. When it snapped with Cassian and Nesta, she had backed away from Cass as well. She barely even had a witty retort anymore, choosing to stay quiet most of the time.

Azriel felt like no one else had noticed the change in her. However, he had to admit, so much change had happened in such a short time that he couldn’t blame them for not realizing.

Why did he realize?

Even as she created small friendships with the others, she ignored Azriel. She only looked at him to stare at his hands. He had taken to wearing his gloves around her at all times, but she just stared as if she could see through the fabric. He had spent decades trying to be nice to her, for nothing. She rarely spoke to him, mostly just gave that look to his hands.

She was always going to be cruel to him.

***

Azriel was trying desperately to find a Solecist gift for Elain. He knew he had a reputation for gifts, and he wanted to make sure what he got Elain was perfect. As perfect as she is.

And he had no idea what that would be.

He was wandering the paths of Velaris aimlessly, peering into the stores as he passed, trying to see anything that seemed like Elain. He was getting worried that he would never find anything, turning away from yet another shop.

He stopped when he saw her.

She was inside a little building, large windows open for anyone to see in. He watched as she stood at the front of the room, facing a small group of…children? He angled his body a little to see clearly into the room, listening to her voice come through the window. Her tone was kinder than he had ever heard it. Azriel watched with wide eyes as she demonstrated a defense move-a move he had taught her.

And now she was teaching it to children.

He watched for the rest of the class, amazed at how well the kids grasped onto the concepts she was teaching. He felt his heart skip when her laughter floated out the windows, a bright smile on her face as she looked at one of the students. He had never seen her like this before.

When the class ended he watched as one of the smaller children ran up to her and threw their arms around her legs. Azriel expected her to jump back at the touch, instead watching her bend down and wrap her arms around them. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He couldn’t believe any of this. He turned and headed back to the House, the gift for Elain long forgotten.

***

He wanted to approach her. He wanted to ask about the children he saw her teaching. He had a sudden desire to know more about her, to see who she may be under that cold exterior.

Azriel should have known she wouldn’t let him.

It was a few days after he had spotted her in town, and he had finally found her alone in the little library. He cleared his throat as he approached her, hoping to get her attention. Of course, she ignored him. He shouldn’t have been hurt by it, but he had been so hopeful after seeing her with the children.

Azriel called her name.

Her head slowly turned to him, eyes blazing. “Yes?” She asked coolly. Azriel have a small smile, refusing to lose his nerve now.

“I saw you, in town? With the children? I-“ He started, cut off by her suddenly standing.

“Spying on me, are you?” She asked, anger all over her face.

“No! No! I was shopping, for Elain, and I happened to walk by!” Azriel was gesturing wildly, not wanting you to think he was following you. “I saw you and then I saw the children and I was interested. You were, nice to them.” He cursed the words as they came out of his mouth, sounding just as sorry as one could imagine.

She scoffed. “Why would I not be? They’re kids.” Her words were sharp and Azriel felt embarrassment creep up his neck.

“Well, you’re not really nice to anyone.” He bit out, temper rising as she laughed.

“You don’t know anything about me.” She said, looking at him curiously.

“Oh? Is that so?” Azriel felt the words coming out before he could stop them, all the things he had wanted to say for years. “Maybe that’s because you don’t let anyone get close to you. I tried to be your friend in the beginning, just for you to be cold and nasty. You are always cold and nasty. I’ve noticed you slowly losing the friends you have made, slinking off into the shadows. Do you ever stop to think that maybe it’s because you’re a cold-hearted bitch?”

She looked like he had slapped her.

“W-what?” She stumbled out, eyes wide.

Now it was Azriels turn to scoff. “Don’t pretend to be innocent now. You rarely speak to anyone except for Rhys, and when you do it’s usually to tell them to leave you alone! Even when I was trying to train you, you lashed out at me for just trying to help. You have always acted like I disgust you, always glaring at my hands. Do they really upset you so much that you have to act like i’m the worst thing you’ve ever encountered? That you have to look at me like that and flinch when I touch you? I tried to be nice to you, just for you to react like that.” He was breathing heavy, all the hurt coming to the surface.

He watched her eyes flash and then suddenly, she was yelling at him. “How dare you? You have no idea what you are talking about. Are you so self centered that you truly believe everything I do is about you? Do you ever stop for one second to think that maybe, just maybe, I have my own shit to deal with?” Her cheeks were colored red, her hands clenching into fists.

Azriel rolled his eyes. “We all have our own shit going on. It doesn’t mean we take all of our miserable feelings out on everyone else!”

“I don’t! I just don’t have any interest in getting close with you. Not everyone has to want to lick the ground you walk on, Shadowsinger.” She spat out the last word like it was dirt in her mouth.

“Why not? What have I ever done that makes you hate me so? What has any of us done? The only one of us you would talk to for years was Rhysand. Did you love him? Are you bitter now that he has a mate and no one will ever be interested in you?” Azriel knew that was a low blow, but his anger overrode him common sense.

“What are you talking about? The relationship between me and Rhysand is none of your business. For a spymaster, you’re truly horrible at reading a situation.” She was angry, angrier than she had been in decades.

Azriel didn’t care. “No one here likes you. They’ve all moved on from their short friendships with you. Even your precious Rhys has found someone else to occupy his time with. Why do you stay here? You have no one.” He felt the pain in his chest at the expression on her face.

She blinked quickly, fighting tears. “You are the cruel one, Azriel.” She turned and ran from the room, leaving him in the aftermath of their fight.

It was the first time she had said his name.

He felt it snap in his chest, the tug to follow you. He could barely react, the shock of it keeping him rooted to the spot. No, he thought. No. Not her. It wasn’t supposed to be her.

The mating bond didn’t care for his concerns.

***

Please let me know how you feel!! Honestly Pt. 2 should be out tonight or tomorrow, i’m pretty far into it. I’m thinking this will be a 3-4 part mini series!!!