#aziel shadowsinger
Text
When Spring Turns To Night
Summary: Az is on his regular rotation of the Spring Court when he stumbles upon a battered young female running through the forest only to learn that this female is his mate, but the bond only snaps for him.
Azriel x Reader
Warnings: Violence, blood, abuse.
Word Count: 2218
A/N: This is my first ever Azriel story so please let me know what you think! I promise I haven't forgotten about Like An Autumn Breeze, I will be updating that later this week I just had this idea stuck in my head and had to write it!
Master List
(Part One) (Part Two)
Part One
Azriel’s POV
I hated coming to Spring Court, it was always so empty especially after Feyre destroyed Tamlin’s court. I was sitting at the top of a tree with my shadow swirling around looking for anything to report back to Rhysand when one whispered that a female was running this way. I silently jumped down from the tree and let my shadows envelop me. I smelled the fear before she came barreling through the trees, tears pouring down her face.
She bolted past me and her foot snagged on a root in the ground, as she fell she let out a shriek and I heard a crack as her nose hit the dirt. I started walking towards her holding my hands out of me so she could see I wasn’t going to harm her, she turns as I intentionally snap a twig under my boot. She looks up at me blood pouring down her face and that's when I felt the tug. I halted, I could see the thread connecting the two of us and I stared at her silently. My shadows swarmed around me chanting mate, mate, mate. She cowered in front of me as silent tears poured down her cheeks.
'RHYSAND GET OVER HERE NOW!' I screamed into my mind and knew he was on his way.
“Are you alright?” I asked calmly lowering myself to the ground in front of her. She scrambles backwards shaking her head.
Y/N’s POV
I was sitting on the forest floor, looking up at Azriel the Shadowsinger of the Night Court while blood poured down my face. I had just run away from my abusive father, only to run into the Spymaster who tortures people. I tried to crawl away from him but moving only caused pain to radiate through my ribs.
“Please no please” I sobbed loudly.
“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you” he says sitting down in front of me his hazel eyes watching me. “What happened to you?” he begins leaning forward reaching out for me.
Shaking my head excessively to the point of probably doing damage to my brain the only words I could get out were “No touch” as my sobs get louder and louder. Suddenly the forest becomes dark and I see another figure standing behind the Shadowsinger, my vision clears slightly and I realise it’s the High Lord of the Night Court. “No no no no!” I cried as my entire body started shaking violently.
The High Lord lowers himself to his knees and sits beside the Shadowsinger. His violet eyes settle on your face and in such a calm voice he says “We are not here to hurt you, we want to make sure you are okay. What happened?”
“My… my… my father” I choked out.
“Your father did this to you?” the Shadowsinger growls looking towards him I nod wiping at my nose.
“What’s your name?” the High Lord asks pulling my attention back to him.
“Y/N” I sniffled as the exhaustion begins to set in and my eyelids become heavy, the High Lord and the Shadowsinger share a look.
“Y/N, we can take you away from here and get you patched up.” I simply nod my head as my eyes fluttered shut and it took all of my effort to open them again. “I’m going to pick you up and winnow you to the Night Court alright, you are safe.” he says wrapping his arms gently behind my back and underneath my knees, as he stands and Night enveloped me and my eyes shut again and everything is black.
I awoke in a plush bed in a room I did not recognise, the room was filled with deep blues and purples and accented with dark woods. I sat up to look around but pain rippled through my body. I grunted wrapping my arms around my ribs and continued looking around the room when my eyes landed on a male sitting in a chair near my bed watching me. I couldn’t make out any features as if he was shadowed by darkness, but I could make out large wings.
“You’re awake!” his deep baritone voice filled the room I recognised that voice but couldn’t place it. “Y/N, I’m Azriel” he stated and that’s when memories of what happened flashed through my mind… My father, pain and blood, running through the forest, the taste of dirt and blood, the Shadowsinger and the High Lord of The Night Court then nothing but darkness.
“Where am I?” my voice was raw and it hurt to speak.
“The Night Court” he said leaning forward and placing his elbows on his thighs to watch me closely.
“Are you going to hurt me?” I couldn’t help but ask, I had heard all the awful things the Night Court did.
“No” he frowned “you are safe here” his voice was gentle and I believed him to be speaking the truth. I studied his face that was now lit up by the faelights he was very handsome his tanned skin and his hazel eyes, he looked as if he had been crafted by the gods I couldn’t take my eyes off him. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m really sore, my ribs ache and my head is pounding” I said thoughtfully and he nodded. “How long was I out?”
“Just over 14 hours, we’ve been monitoring you.” I gasped at how long I had been out, he continued saying “When you hit your head on the ground you gave yourself a concussion.”
“Oh, you saw that” embarrassment settled through my body causing my cheeks to turn pink, he nodded smirking at me. Just then a bowl of steaming soup appeared on the bedside table with a large glass of water, my eyes widened with shock and I looked at Azriel.
“The house is sentient, it knows you need to eat and this is its way of telling you to. It’s quite the mother-hen” he laughed and the sound was the most amazing thing I had ever heard in my entire 250 years of life, his eyes were sparkling with amusement. He leaned over passing me the glass of water, I downed the whole thing not realising how thirsty I had been wiping the stray droplets from my lips as I handed it back to him. He passed me the bowl of soup and I graciously took it feeling the heat radiating off of it I smiled, lifting the spoon to my mouth I began eating and couldn’t help the moan that escaped my life. “Enjoying the soup?” he mused and I nodded.
“Thank you” I said aloud feeling the need to acknowledge the house's kindness and I saw Azriel smirk at me. I pushed the covers back and shimmied myself to the side of the bed, swinging my legs over I attempted to stand up and nearly fell to the ground but before I could Azriel caught my hips and held me steady.
“Easy there” he chuckled and I could feel his large hands on my hips, they were warm. I blushed.
“I need to stretch my legs” I said simply stepping away from him quickly and stretching my arms high above my head and sighing as I felt the tension leaving my body from laying down for so long.
“Would you like to take a walk around the house?” he asked, looking up nervously you shook your head.
“I would love to, but first I need to take a bath” you said shyly.
“Oh of course, just through there is a bathing chamber. I’ll come back in half an hour to give you a tour of the house” he smiled getting up and heading towards the door. “There are clothes in the cupboard for you.”
“Thank you, Azriel” I smiled at him and I could have sworn I saw his cheeks turn the lightest shade of pink but he turned too quickly and headed out the door. With that I was alone again, I slowly wandered around the room taking in my surroundings, and finally heading into the bathing chamber I was greeted by the largest bathtub I had ever seen. Moving towards it I turned the knobs and let the hot water fill the tub as steam enveloped the room. Looking down I realised I was not wearing my clothes from home but was wearing a pale white nightgown, I took that off and climbed into the hot water letting the heat warm my aching muscles. I dunked my head and began washing my hair, the soaps and tonics that were in the Night Court smelled very different from the ones in Spring.
Once I was clean I emerged from the bathing chamber in a fluffy towel and padded my way to the cupboard opening it I found a ton of clothing, flipping through them I settled on a pair of black leggings, and a loose knitted cream sweater that had tiny red roses embroidered into it. I braided my wet hair and pulled on a pair of black leather boots I found in the cupboard when there was a knock at the door.
“Come in” I called out.
“Feeling better?” Azriel’s voice filled the room and I smiled.
“Much! I’m ready for that tour now” I said straightening up and looking at him, he has changed from his leathers into a pair of black pants and a black knit sweater, his hair was damp as if he had just taken a bath as well.
“Shall we?” he asked holding his arm out for me and I gladly accepted, he led me out into the hallway and through the house showing me all the different rooms. He finally led me onto a balcony and I gasped, I could see a shimmering city far down below. “This is Velaris, the city of Starlight.”
“It’s beautiful” you whispered staring at the lights flickering. Standing in silence my eyes were glued to the lights in the city below. Azriel's eyes were glued to my face, watching as I saw his city for the first time.
“Y/N?” Azriel’s voice jolted me from watching the lights.
“Hmm?” I mumbled in response.
“Would you feel comfortable talking with Rhysand? He just wanted to see how you’re doing and ask you a few questions.”
“Sure” you said with a smile.
“I’m going to need to fly you there” Azriel said and I stared up at him with eyes wide.
“Fly?” I asked shocked.
“What did you think the wings were for?” he smirked and waited for my response.
“I hadn’t really thought of it, you won’t drop me will you” I asked sheepishly, twisting a strand of hair in between my fingers a nervous habit I’d had since childhood.
“Never” he proclaimed, nodding I took a step towards him. He gently wrapped his arms around me picking me up bridal style my arms automatically found themselves snaked around his neck. That was when I was hit with his scent, night-chilled mist and cedar as I buried my face into his chest. It was a scent I wouldn’t ever forget. His wings spread wide and he leapt off the balcony, I screamed and he chuckled. “You’re safe” he murmured against my ear and I couldn’t help but shiver.
Soaring through the sky was a magical feeling, I would have never imagined doing this in the Spring Court. We landed in front of the river, Azriel placed me down gently and I took a moment to steady myself while staring at the water I was mesmerised by this place it was so unlike where I had grown up. Something about the Night Court called to me as if I was finally home.
“This way” he said taking a step in the direction of a large house that was lit up. “This is where Rhysand and Feyre live, the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court” he explained as I looked up at the house with wonder. He opened the door allowing me to step through, looking around it was so warm and welcoming. Rhysand stepped into my view as he came around the corner followed closely by a beautiful female with golden brown hair and blue-grey eyes that I immediately recognised from her time spent in the Spring Court, she looked so much healthier now and I smiled at her.
“Y/N you are looking much better” he smiled and motioned to the female beside him. “This is my mate; Feyre.”
“Hello Y/N, I am so glad you are doing better!” she said walking up to me and embracing me in a hug.
“Th..thank you” I said awkwardly and she smiled warmly at me.
“Why don’t you come and meet everyone else, then we can head to Rhysand’s office and discuss what happened to you.” she took me by the hand leading me down the hallway, I looked to Azriel and he simply nodded.
“Everyone this is Y/N!” she said as we entered a large sitting room, I quickly scanned the other people that were there when my eyes landed on a red-headed male I recognised.
“Y/N? What are you doing here” he said getting off the couch and walking towards me, his metal eye whirring as it studied me.
“Lucien?” I asked confused.
Tag List
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#azriel x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#aziel shadowsinger#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#acotar fanfiction#autumnslittlefox#autumnslittlefoxwrites#azriel acotar
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Finding Home || Part Two
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1.9k
Warnings: none
Summary: After spending the whole night talking with Y/N, Azriel is summoned to Rhys’s office where he has a very particular set of mission for him.
Finding Home Masterlist
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
•••
The morning after Azriel left Y/N’s apartment, he left with a wide smile on his face. It felt nice to have a conversation with someone that wasn’t constantly surrounded by their mate or have a child run up to them halfway through the conversation and completely take their attention away. For the first time in a while, Azriel was fully relaxed while having a conversation. Even as he made his way to Rhys’s office, he still held that relaxation within his body. Even if he had fallen asleep on her sofa with his wings tucked tightly to his body, the shadowsinger had never slept so soundly. The only thing that awoke him was the tap of Rhys against his mental shields demanding his attention.
Azriel knocked on the door to Rhys’s office and faintly heard him calling him in. Azriel stepped inside and found Rhys sitting at his desk looking exhausted. Usually Rhys took pride in his appearance but as he sat behind his desk still in his satin pyjamas, Azriel couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh.
“Long night?” Aziel commented, sitting in the chair opposite.
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Rhys answered.
Normally Azriel would ask him what kept him up all night but this time he didn’t, only knowing that it would be one of two answers. Feyre or Nyx. Deciding not to ask, Azriel instead asked a different question. “Why did you ask me to come here?”
Why did you pull me away from the one place I could truly be relaxed? That was the question Azriel really wanted to ask.
“Ah, that,” Rhys said. “Well we were all worried about you last night.”
“Oh,” Azriel said, deflating a little in his chair.
“You were there one moment and when Elain turned around to ask if you wanted to hold Hycinth again, you were gone,” Rhys said.
The suspicions Azriel had about no one noticing he left were confirmed. Azriel could always escape somewhere undetected but late night he made sure that his footsteps were heard. He made sure he opened the front door a little louder than normal. And he made sure to close it with more force than necessary. If anyone was paying any attention they would have easily heard that he had left. Clearly no one was paying any attention to him at all.
“I just wanted to go home,” Azriel answered. “Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.”
“Weren’t you enjoying yourself?” Rhys countered.
There was a brief moment of hesitation from Azriel before he answered. “I was, I was just tired. I hadn’t had much sleep the night before.” It was a bad lie and Azriel knew it. Rhys could immediately see through the lie too, but to save Azriel from explaining himself further, Rhys didn’t question him on it.
“Was that all you needed?” Azriel asked.
“No,” Rhys said and threw a file across the desk to Azriel.
“What is this? Another mission,” Azriel asked, picking it up.
“Of sorts,” Rhys said.
Azriel opened the file and stared at it, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “‘Have a beach day?’, ‘Feed the ducks?’, ‘Go to the theatre?’. What is this, Rhys?”
“These are personal missions for you,” Rhys answered. “Myself, as well as Cassian and the others have all noticed how absent you have been recently–”
“I have been on missions–”
“Not physically,” Rhys said. “Mentally. You barely talk to anyone unless you are spoken to. You don’t tease Cassian for a stupid comment he makes. You don’t even play with Nyx as much as you used to. Last night he asked why you don’t take him to the park anymore.”
“I–” Azriel cut himself off because he didn’t have an answer. Everything Rhys said was true.
“These missions are for you to try and enjoy yourself,” Rhys explained. “Do them in whatever order you like, but in three months' time, if I don’t see all of them ticked off, I won’t be very happy, Azriel.”
Azriel looked down at the list. There were thirty things on it ranging from small things like cooking a meal for himself to large things like jumping from the tallest mountain in The Night Court and seeing how long it takes for him to open his wings to fly.
Azriel rolled his eyes. “Rhys, I don’t need to do these things. I am perfectly fine.” Another lie. Rhys once again didn’t mention it.
“Three months, Azriel,” Rhys said and stood from his chair. “Now, I have my mate waiting for me upstairs. We have about twenty minutes before Nyx wakes up.”
Azriel didn’t respond with a teasing remark like he usually does. Of course Rhys can’t even stay for a moment longer to just talk to Azriel. If he had only decided to stay for a few moments longer, Azriel might have opened up to him. All Azriel did was stare at the file in front of him, failing to notice Rhys’s lingering gaze on him before we swiftly left his office.
Three months to do thirty tasks and most of them were downright stupid. Though Azriel had to admit that some of them sounded appealing, he guessed that those would have been either Feyre, Nesta or Elain’s idea. Azriel would prefer if Rhys sent him on a mission, preferably a long one. Then he maybe wouldn’t need to spend every waking moment around happy and in love couples.
With a sigh, Azriel stood to his feet and allowed his shadows to encase him, taking him somewhere else.
***
Y/N stepped out of her apartment and into the cool air, her thick scarf wrapped around her neck. She was tired and had a dull ache in her neck from falling asleep on her sofa at an awkward angle. Though she wouldn’t have changed one moment from her night. Y/N never would have thought that being in the company of the shadowsinger would be pleasant but it had to be one of her favourite Solstice’s. No large spectacle, just two friends– if that is what Y/N could call their relationship– sitting together and talking.
The air was cold and Y/N wrapped her coat tighter around her body. It was a large effort from Y/N to leave her apartment, the only driving force was her needing milk and she regretted not picking it up the previous night when she bumped into Azriel.
She wondered how he was doing. When he woke that morning he seemed deflated and in a rush to leave. Of course he reassured her that it was nothing to do with her. In fact, he told her that the night they had spent just sitting and talking was the best night he had had in a while. When he rushed out that morning, Y/N wanted to call out to him to ask if he wanted to get a coffee or something similar. But as she went to speak the words died on her tongue, it was too much like asking him on a date.
As Y/N stepped away from the door of her apartment, she collided with a firm chest and a familiar scent surrounded her. Strong arms shot out to keep her upright before being retracted away quickly as if touching her had burnt.
“Y/N,” Azriel’s smooth voice chimed through the air around her. He still wore the same clothes he had left in only hours before. This time he held a file in his hand that she knew he didn’t have when he left her apartment.
“I’m sorry for startling you,” he apologised. “I didn’t even mean to come back here.”
Y/N’s shoulders slumped the smallest amount at Azriel’s revelation. He hadn’t wanted to come back to her. Maybe not asking him for coffee was a good idea.
“It’s okay,” Y/N said, trying not to let the disappointment lace her tone. “Did you leave anything inside? I can get it for you.”
“No, no,” Azriel said. “And I didn’t mean that I didn’t want to come back here. I did want to believe me. I just didn’t think I would come back here unconsciously.” There was a slight blush adorning Azriel’s cheeks that made Y/N laugh. His head shot up at the sound.
“What?” He asked, a small smile spreading across his face.
“It’s cute when you are flustered,” Y/N said, which only caused the blush on his cheeks to deepen. “So, what’s up with the file? It looks…official.”
Azriel scoffed quietly. “It’s far from that.”
Azriel thrust the file forward and Y/N took it hesitantly. “Should I even be reading this? I’m not exactly part of this court’s politics.”
“Just read it,” Azriel said, his voice soft.
Y/N opened the file and she immediately started to chuckle. “‘Feed a duck’?”
Azriel groaned. “It’s stupid.”
“It’s funny,” Y/N replied and continued to look down the list. “What exactly is this for?”
“Rhys and the others thought it would be a good idea for me to enjoy myself because they have noticed I have distanced myself lately,” Azriel explained.
Y/N raised her gaze from the paper in front of her to Azriel’s. His eyes bore into hers and she could feel the frustration residing in them.
“I don’t see how any of this is going to help,” Azriel said. “All of these tasks are pointless.”
“Some of them seem fun,” Y/N tried to reason.
“On my own?” Azriel replied. “The whole reason why I’ve been feeling like this is because I feel alone. It is because I have no one to do anything with. Now they have set me tasks that make sure I am on my own.”
“I can do them with you,” Y/N answered quickly, not thinking about Azriel’s possible responses.
A look of surprise briefly flashed across Azriel’s face before it returned to his neutral one. His eyes jumped from Y/N’s to the file in her hands. “You don’t need to do them with me. It’s my mission and I won’t drag you along with me.”
Y/N smiled. “I wouldn’t class feeding the ducks as a mission, Azriel. And most of these seem fun. ‘Have a beach day’? I’ve never been to a beach. Oh, and go to the theatre! I love the theatre! These are fun, Azriel!”
Azriel rolled his eyes, though Y/N could see him trying to fight away a smile. “Would you really do them with me? You only met me last night.”
Y/N shrugged. “Well they seem fun and this is the perfect way for us to get to know one another.”
Azriel looked at the file in her hands and he allowed the smile he had been fighting away to break out on his face. Y/N felt her insides melt at the sight. His smile lit up his whole face. Any feeling that had been present on his face before instantly vanished and was replaced by undeniable happiness.
“Thank you for doing this with me, Y/N,” Azriel said sincerely. “So where should we start?”
Y/N pointed to number seven on the list. “Number seven, get some coffee.”
Azriel smiled before taking the file away from Y/N and folded it away, he offered his arm to Y/N and she took it. It felt natural.
“Lead the way, shadowsinger,” Y/N replied and the two were off down the street. The milk Y/N originally set off to purchase was completely abandoned.
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A Formidable Pair: Part 3
Azriel x Reader
Summary: As spymaster to the Spring Court, the Reader meets her unfriendly match from the Night Court as they work together to train, rebuild and repair Court relations.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1224
Notes: so sorry for the delay in getting part 3 out! work has been kicking my ass and i’ve barely had time to write 🥲 let me know how you like the story so far 🖤 ENJOY xx
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
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Gods, she moved faster than lightning.
Punch, kick, dodge, strike.
As if they could sense each other’s next move, Azriel danced and twirled with her across the dry dirt pit, dust clouds forming in the wake.
The feral amusement in her eyes as she lunged for him sparked something in the Shadowsinger’s blood.
Years of lethal training in the Autumn Court under Eris became apparent as she struck and dodged each of his blows, swift as a gazelle prancing in the last glowing rays of the setting sun.
Azriel kept his eyes averted from her unnecessarily distracting training leathers that clung to her lithe, muscled body.
A living weapon—that’s what she was, he came to realize with every hit and jab, every twirl and leap. Defiant, cunning, wild.
He had, of course, provoked it—that rage that simmered under the surface, the familiar deadly calm that glittered in her eyes. And even though he had accepted her challenge, he didn’t think she would go for a full-blown attack.
Azriel had underestimated her.
When Rhys told him weeks ago about their upcoming trip to the Spring Court, Aziel adamantly refused, unwilling to travel to his Lord and Lady’s enemy lands.
Well, ally lands now. Azriel still didn’t trust Tamlin or his sudden attempts at peace and rectification.
But with enough persuasion and persistence from Feyre, he begrudgingly obliged. There was no way he would knowingly let Rhys go alone and spend an entire week there unguarded, even if he knew his brother could handle himself perfectly fine.
And he definitely wasn’t going without doing his own research on the spy he was supposedly working with, and her underlings that he was meant to train.
Y/N. It tasted distant and foreign on his tongue.
He didn’t care to get to know her. Didn’t bother to speak to her more than necessary.
A spy for his two most hated Courts. Born and raised in Autumn, bred like a bloodhound in the Spring.
Despite knowing that Lucien dragged her here to give her a break from Eris’s vile, demanding missions, Azriel expected a timid, shy thing, fumbling and feeble and meek.
Nothing like the cool, lethal killer now in front of him, moving with the nimble grace of a jungle cat circling its prey before going for the killing blow.
Azriel suddenly wondered if they had indeed been cut from the same cloth.
The thought cost him.
He registered her attack a second too late, unable to maneuver his way out. She wrapped her muscled legs around his torso while flipping around and back, grabbing his head and pinning him down. Azriel found himself immovable against the ground in a headlock, her body wrapped around his. One movement from him, and she could snap his neck.
She was fury, wrath, vengeance.
Yes, he had definitely underestimated her.
As if she was suddenly aware of the entanglement of their bodies, she undid herself from the position and got up, quick and smooth as a snake.
Loose strands of hair that escaped her braid whipped around her face in the dusky breeze. The new spies all stood gaping, eyes darting from Azriel to her.
“Care for round two, Spymaster?” she asked, her voice like death and bloodshed.
Azriel shook off his nerves and let himself fall into the mask of the cold, unforgiving warrior. “Be ready to leave at dawn,” was all he managed to say. Thank Gods his voice didn’t reveal his anger, rage and embarrassment. He brushed the dirt off his leathers and turned back towards the Manor.
---------------------------
It was early enough that the dim morning light hadn’t begun to brighten the night sky. As much as he hated the Spring Court, Azriel couldn’t help but sleep with the windows open to let in the sweet, balmy breeze that cooled the pit of anger coiled in his gut since last night. He hadn’t even gone down for dinner, despite Rhysand’s request to join him. He had to avoid seeing her for as long as possible, not wanting his self-loathing of being caught off guard by some young spy to ruin his brother’s meal.
Pulling on his leathers and sheathing his blades, Azriel made his way to the training ring again, ready to get in a quick morning workout before heading back home for the Winter Solstice Party. A small smile bloomed at the thought of being around his family again and celebrating Feyre’s birthday.
His shadows led the way down and around Tamlin’s massive home, the only noise coming from his leather boots against the black and white marble tiles.
A soft, lilting voice stopped him in his tracks.
He crossed the last few steps of the hallway and cracked open the gilded doorframe that led to the training court, just enough to hear the quiet melody:
“Fly me to the moon…”
Given his luck, he knew there could only be one person awake and out there this early.
“Let me play among the stars…”
As if in a trance, he cracked the door wider, staring at her while she hummed the rest of the tune to herself, unaware that he was behind her as she stretched out her limbs.
At the sound of his step out into the court, she whipped her head back, locking those harsh, unforgiving eyes with his own. Azriel didn’t bother greeting her as he walked past where she sat and swaggered toward the edge of the ring where weights and bars were littered across the dirt.
It was still dark out, the crescent moon now at the distant edge of the sky and the pink morning light inching above the horizon. Azriel had told her to be ready at dawn, and here she was, bag packed and weapons sharpened before daybreak.
“How long are you going to take,” she said from where she sat, her words nothing like the sweet, honeyed voice that was singing moments ago.
Not a question, but a demand.
“Give me 15 minutes to warm up, then we can head out,” he muttered back.
Before she could respond, Lucien, Tamlin and Rhysand made their way out of the Manor and into the yard.
“Azriel, you and Y/N will be stopping at the Autumn Court first. Y/N has to give her report to Eris since he won’t be making it to the party,” Rhysand drawled, amusement dancing in his violet eyes. “It should take about a half day to fly there, then another few hours before you can winnow back home.”
Neither she nor Azriel responded.
Fine, they would take the long way, then. Together.
Azriel ground his teeth but nodded in agreement, noting how she tensed up from across the ring.
“Thank you for coming and helping Y/N train the new spies, Azriel,” Tamlin said gently. “I appreciate it, and apologize again for missing out on the Solstice Party. I wish I could be there, but I know Y/N will have a wonderful time in my place,” he finished, winking at her before turning on his heel and heading back inside, Rhysand and Lucien trailing him with equally amused expressions.
“Hurry up and finish. I want to head out before it gets too hot,” she barked at him.
As Azriel began his workout, annoyance and dread sluiced through him.
Well, this should be fun.
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#azriel x reader#azriel acotar#shadowsinger#spymaster#acotar#ACOTAR fanfic#enemies to lovers#sarah j maas#a court of thorns and roses#acotar fluff#acotar fandom#azriel fluff#azriel fic#azriel fanfic#acotar series#night court#azriel
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The Little Black Dress That Could
May the 4th Be with all of us! Today is my favorite holiday. 4th of July, Independence Day.
This is also for Caroline, whose birthday was yesterday. Happy birthday girl! You don't have to keep drinking virgin pina coladas anymore.
What happened during Winter Solstice at Hewn City between Elain and Azriel? What did he think of her ugly black dress? Read on and find out.
“By the Cauldron,” Nesta exhaled obnoxiously loudly. “It’s ugly.”
Elain made a face.
It was ugly.
“Fucking ugly,” Nesta added.
Fu-gly.
That’s what the dress was.
It was a fugly dress.
With that, Nesta left.
Well, good riddance.
It was fine.
She was fine.
Everything was fine.
Her sister hated her.
Elain had to wear this revoltingly ugly dress to a ball. Her first ball since she became Fae.
She had to stand there, in her ugly dress, allowing everyone else to shine…which would be fine. Normally, Elain Archeron wasn’t envious or petty. But she had to be dressed in this frumpy frock, knowing that he would be there. He would be resplendent in his elegant leathers, his siphons shining with their ethereal light, his handsome face perfect and grave. Ugh. He would be perfect. He always was. He could wear a potato sack, and still look like a Prince.
Rhysand tried to be like Azriel, but failed. No one could be like Azriel, the mysterious and deadly Shadowsinger. The quiet authority that he always conveyed. The darkness. The secretive nature of,
“Hey Elain!”
Cassian’s voice boomed behind her and startled out of her thoughts, she blurted out,
“I am not sleeping with Azriel!”
Cassian looked at her like she was drunk and yet, said calmly,
“I mean, no one would blame you for wanting to sleep with Azriel,”
“What?” she choked.
“What? He is handsome and stately, muscular, but compact, built like a,”
“I am not sleeping with Azriel,” she noted dryly, “but I am not sure about you.”
“What?” he glared at her.
She folded her arms on her chest.
“I am not! I haven’t,” he began muttering defensively. “We haven’t…I mean, there was that time when,”
“WHAT?!” she cried out.
“Nothing. Nothing.”
There was an awkward, strange silence and they just stared at one another.
“Why are you here?” she demanded at last.
“You seen Nes?”
“Maybe.”
“You gonna be all mad because I might have, like 300 years ago, kiss-”
“I don’t. Want. To. Know.” she snarled at him, pressing her hands to her ears.
He stepped back in fright and hissed through his teeth,
“Oh Mother…these Arecheron girls are rabid.”
“Oh rabid are we?” she yelled at him, and he actually took a step back, trying to avoid a physical altercation with the flower girl. Somehow, he feared her more than anyone–perhaps not physically, but somehow, he knew that he’d be torn to pieces by both Nesta, and probably Aziel. He wasn’t sure about Azriel, but there was…something. Some feelings that Cassian couldn't discern, but felt in his gut. Anyway, he wasn’t going to fight with Elain. Thought he couldn’t help himself and asked,
“You’re wearing this?” He raised his brow, glancing at the dress that hung on the hanger.
Elain sighed and said gloomily, “yes, I am wearing this dress.”
He whistled and murmured, “Mother’s tits…”
“Not helping, Cassian. Not helping.”
“Well, alright then. I guess I’ll see you at the Court of Nightmares. You know…” he paused, and then added softly, taking her hand in his giant bear paws, “you don’t have to go…”
Her expression softened and she murmured,
“I want to go, Cassian. I want to do my part.”
Cassian and Elain were milling about the foyer of the River Estate in awkward semi-silence. Both were waiting to be winnowed to Hewn City. Azriel was already there, and Mor was going to pick the two of them up. Nesta would travel with Feyre and Rhys.
“Are you excited to stand at Azriel’s side?” Cassian asked, trying to sound casual.
“Pardon?” Elain whirled to him, eyes wide.
“You know…By the throne? Nesta will be next to me, and you’ll be next to Az,”
“Why should I be excited about that?” she demanded, but her cheeks were awfully red for her to be simply angry.
Cassian smirked.
He was definitely picking on some vibes. He wasn’t going to be fooled.
And he was pretty sure that he was the only one to be catching these vibes between his brother and Elain. Yeah. He was always the first one to notice things, especially between couples. He was observant like that.
“I don’t know…I think Nesta is excited to stand next to me,” he shrugged.
Elain’s chin rose and she declared,
“Why shouldn’t he be excited to stand next to me?”
Pacifically, Cassian immediately assured her, “I am sure he is very excited.”
Hewn City was outfitted beautifully for the three day-long celebrations of the Winter Solstice. There were black candelabras, wreaths of holly, silver and gold ribbons wrapped around the obsidian columns, the floors were polished so brightly, they reflected all the attendees and the lights. Enormous arrangements of pine branches bedecked in faelights, white roses and night blooming jasmine were placed all around the ballroom in crystal vases.
Azriel, Shadowsinger of High Lord Rhysand’s Night Court felt quite at home here. He didn’t like it–or rather, he didn’t like the present Steward of Hewn City–but he’d spent enough time in these ancient, hallowed halls to have grown accustomed to the place. It needed some sprucing up and something cheerful around here, but overall, he didn’t mind it. It was always especially beautiful around Solstice.
It was especially beautiful right now, because Elain Archeron stepped into the ballroom.
Oh yes, he’d noticed them all–Morrigan in her usual red dress, Cassian, standing right across him, brooding and tense, awaiting Nesta’s arrival. When the darkness of Rhysand’s power poured out of the massive doors, which opened silently to reveal the High Lord and the High Lady, and their heir inside of her. There was an audible gasp when the attendees beheld Feyre’s pregnant belly, but Azriel was used to that as well. Nothing surprised him much anymore, other than…
Elain Archeron.
She looked like a goddess.
She looked like the Mother.
Her long golden brown hair was unbound, streaming like a bronze halo around her, pinned with two pearl combs. And her dress…Was the most beautiful dress he’d ever seen. It fit her perfectly. It was simple and stunning.
Nesta was wearing something overly elaborate–tuile, and sequence, and gems and silver, and while it all looked very nice and all, his girl looked sublime. She didn’t need any extra ornamentation.
Well, maybe just the gift that he was planning to give her on Solstice night. The delicate necklace that he had designed and commissioned especially for her. It would look perfect in the little divot between her lovely slender collar bones.
It was Nesta’s night to shine, but Elain looked like a queen. His Lady. Though to him, she was always simply his girl. His Elain.
The two sisters stood by the dias of the two thrones, Nesta next to Cassian, and Elain next to Azriel. He couldn’t offer her a wink or a smile, not in front of all these people, but she stood close enough, for him to gently, covertly rub his pinkie against the side of her palm. She didn’t flinch and didn’t react, but a tiny sweet smile touched her full lips. His girl liked it when he touched her–when they exchanged glances, and brief brushes of fingers. When he skimmed his fingers over hers at breakfast, when she offered him his mug of tea. Or when he could place his palm on the small of her back for a few moments when he followed her into the room, or out of the house. Or even better, when she adjusted the lapels of his jacket, and stroked his chest. No. She never minded when he touched her.
Now he wished that he could place her small hand on his forearm so they could walk together–without hiding, without fears or accusations. It was impossible, but Azriel held onto hope. He had nothing else. Just hope, and his dreams of walking arm in arm with his girl, with Elain, who’d be his wife. He didn’t care about the bond at all–not hers, or a hypothetical one for the two of them. Did he wonder why the other two brothers received mate bonds with the two sisters, and she was given away like a sacrifice to Lucien Vanserra? Every day. But it was also pointless to ponder the ways of the Cauldron. He didn’t need a bond with Elain in order to love her. He liked her and loved her just because she was Elain–he loved her face, he adored her wit and her sense of humour, he admired her resilience, he enjoyed her mind and her intelligence. They fit each other like a pair of gloves–easily. What felt torturous with Morrigan for the past 500 years, felt absolutely natural with Elain. She took what he offered, and didn’t pressure him for more, and he gave bits of himself willingly and gladly.
One day, sweetheart. One day. You and I.
Rhys was gifting Eris a Made dagger, and everyone began dancing as the first notes of the waltz filled the vast space.
Elain stepped closer to him, and he lightly ran his knuckle over her spine. Her back was bare, the dress held together by thick ribbons, but it offered enough of her silky skin for him to observe that he was forced to bite the inside of his cheek just to hold back a groan.
“Do you want me to Make you a dagger too?” she whispered, without looking at him, pretending to be interested in the gift exchange.
“I already have one,” he murmured with a smile, his lips brushing the back of her head, inhaling the scent of jasmine.
“Hmmm…would you like me to Make you anything?”
Yes, I would like for you to make me your husband.
“Make me dinner, and I will be a happy male,” he decided.
“Then I will,” she promised simply.
Eris’s muddy eyes landed on Elain and she grunted through clenched teeth,
“Time for me to shine!”
“I can kill him for you, if you’d like,” Azriel offered calmly.
“Tempting, but you never know how others might look at the murder of the Heir to Autumn by the shadowsinger.”
Smart girl.
He stepped away, allowing another Vanserra’s eyes to skate over his woman.
It was intolerable.
But Elain made a good impression of pretending to be mildly interested in Eris.
And Eris, vain and predictable, was visibly disappointed by the modesty of Elain’s gown, by her demure appearance.
Azriel could only smile to himself.
Thank the Cauldron for the prideful son of Autumn, who did not see the diamond in front of his eyes.
No matter.
Yes, Azriel wanted everyone to admire Elain like he did, but he also wanted to keep her for himself–his secret, a thing of lovely beauty.
Eris offered Elain a bland smile, and then made a beeline towards Nesta.
His loss. Azriel’s gain.
Elain’s smile was finally genuine, and shining in his direction.
The guests were oohing and ahhing over Nesta and Eris in the dancefloor, and Azriel moved back to stand beside his beautiful girl, while they watched the other couple twirl and spin across the floor. They looked incredible–there was no doubt that in another life, in another world, Nesta and Eris would’ve made an excellent match.
But that thought quickly evaporated, when Azriel sensed the rage, disappointment and unhappiness of his brother, who was almost gnashing his teeth in frustration.
Elain wordlessly took Cassian’s hand and squeezed it affectionately.
“Cass, don’t cut in,” Azriel warned him.
Elain looked at the General with sympathy in her warm brown eyes and whispered,
“It’s not real, Cassian. They are not real.”
“But,” he began, and she cut him off,
“She is the one for you, Cassian. You know it. She is your girl.”
Azriel quickly looked at his own girl, and wondered how the Hel did she know? How did she always know?
“Give her the opportunity to complete all her spins,” Elain chuckled, “and then you can cut it.”
“Would you like to dance, Elain Archeron?”
Azriel had danced with Nesta, after Cassian swept her away from Eris and completed his own circle on the dancefloor. Cassian was not as good of a dancer as Eris, but he and Nesta looked…right. They looked like they belonged. And maybe he was stiff, and didn’t move with a courtier’s grace, but Cassian danced because he knew that tonight, Nesta needed him. She needed him, and his strength, and his support, and she needed to be in his arms almost as much as Cassian needed to take her into his own.
“She really is his girl,” Elain smiled softly, watching the two glide among the guests.
She turned and looked up at Azriel.
“And yes, I would love to dance with you.”
“Well then give me your little hand,” he ordered, smiling, as he extended his palm to her. She lay her fingers against his and he sighed with pleasure, as he wrapped his arm around her body, pulling him to him. Her head rested on his shoulder.
One day.
Soon.
Wife.
Not a bad Solstice celebration after all.
#elriel#elain archeron#azriel and elain#azriel#elain x azriel#cassian#elain#cassian and nesta#The Little Black Dress That Could#elriel fanfiction#my writing#acotar fanfiction#acosf fanfiction#Elriel fanfiction#Elriel fanfic
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The first song I want to share is Say Something Loving by The xx
youtube
This song is so perfect for Elriel, even the parts sang by the man and the woman match. I thought of them for the very first time I listened to this beautiful song. I will put the lyrics with the colors for every verse Elain pink, Aziel blue and together purple ^^
Say something loving
I just don't remember the thrill of affection
I just don't remember
Say something loving
I need a reminder, the feeling's escaped me
I immagined both of them trying to remeber what is like to be loved without expectations for who they really are and not for what others projects onto them
I went looking for it
Could have been anyone's kiss
Throwing my arms at no one
When I gave up, I found love
obviously this is Elain looking for love where it isn't true, but there is a lovely shadowsinger that found her when she needed it
The thought flows through my mind
And it's growing all the time
I do myself a disservice
To feel this weak, to be this nervous
Azriel here is completely infatueted so much so that instead of using his gift just stare at it for an entire year, he is weak only for her
You say something loving
It's so overwhelming, the thrill of affection
Feels so unfamiliar
You say something loving
Without hesitation it hits me, hits me
It feels so unfamiliar
here I imagine them getting together behind the others (cough rhys/lucien cough) back
Your touch stays on my skin
I feel it start sinking in
Here come my insecurities
I almost expect you to leave
Elain that is very much insecure after the solstice debacle but her feelings are very much stronger than her fears
Were you really looking for me?
Try your best to reassure me
I wasn't patient to meet you
Am I too needy, am I too eager?
Azriel is just over the moon to be finally chosen but also afraid
[...]I don't know what this is but it doesn't feel wrong[...]
their forbidden affair is not wrong for them *sigh*
I say something loving
I can't hold it inside, the thrill of affection
Is only getting stronger
I say something loving
All my hesitations are fading, fading
I feel it taking over
Before it slips away
Don't let it slip away
and here is my first post! Hope you liked it!
I also want to thank everyone for the warm welcome! I'm so busy in these days and I couldn't post before I'll try do to better!
#elriel#acotar#elain supremacy#elain x azriel#pro elriel#pro elain#asongforelriel#song of the day#song#the xx#the xx lyrics
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Flattery - Gwynriel One-Shot
word count: 3.4k
Cassian is desperate to make Aziel agree to a training fight to try out a new move on him. But his best strategy to success proves to be in form of a auburn haired Valkyrie.
Gwynriel fluff and a side of Nessian
It could have been such a beautiful training day.
Despite of it being the middle of autumn, the warm sun cast its bright light onto the training ring. The air was crisp and clear, ideal conditions for their regular morning training. Gwyn was extra motivated today as well because she felt well rested after a rare night of sleeping without nightmares and ready to kick ass.
Cassian, however, seemed to be completely indifferent to all of that. The male had chosen violence from the moment he stepped into the ring. Well, not with his trainees anyway. He was his usual patient and concentrated self around the advanced group and drilled them through a series of lifting exercises, before moving on to sword play.
His fellow instructor and brother however, did not have it easy today.
As Gwyn crouched to the ground to get some air back into her lungs, she watched how Cass practically waltzed over to Azriel, a frighteningly determined look on his face, and demanded they do a demonstration fight for about the fourth time this hour.
Azriel, also for the fourth time, denied, judging from the look on his face that slipped from its usual indifference to mild annoyance. Cassian gestured around for a while, undoubtedly arguing his point. If he continued like that, he would get his fight one way or another, starting with a fist to his nose.
“Do you have any idea what’s gotten into your mate?”, Gwyn asked Nesta, eyes still glued on the dramatics that unfolded before them. She wasn’t the only one either. All around the ring the priestesses and Valkyries have stopped their exercising or waited for further instructions from the Illyrians. A task it appeared Azriel desperately wanted to get back to.
Just as he turned away from Cassian to speak to his group, Nesta answered. “Don’t even get me started. He has been like a man possessed for the past day.”
“Did he and the Shadowsinger have a fight? Well, a verbal fight I mean?”, Emerie chimed in from behind.
“Not yet. Remember how I got him this book on antique fighting techniques for his birthday?”, the girls nodded in unison, still unsure as to where this was going. “He read about one particular move this weekend. Apparently, it’s non-defendable, hurts like a bitch and looks good, according to him. Plus, he has been dying to beat Az in hand-to-hand combat lately.”
Gwyn laughed at that. “Does this have anything to do with their last demonstration? The one that ended in you having to get Madja to fix his shoulder?”
Cassian had been seething that day. Apparently, Azriel didn’t like to lose. Even if it served the purpose of the training lesson. Gwyn couldn’t fault him in that aspect. If she were asked to lose on purpose, the least she would do was make it really, insufferably hard for the other person to have their way.
Nesta smirked a little, her eyes rolling in fake annoyance. “That one exactly. He wants to get Az to agree to a demonstration fight, and then use that new technique on him.”
Emerie muttered something about ‘males and their egos’ and Gwyn silently agreed. The males have been through a series of fights in their long lives, according to Nesta, and they were equally skilled, equally successful, their triumphs counting as much as their failures.
“As much as I am interested in seeing Azriel bested for once, I highly doubt Cassian will agitate him enough to get him to agree.”, Gwyn felt utterly convinced that annoying him will make Azriel withdraw even more. If she learned one thing about the Spymaster during their very frequent, and very secret, late night training sessions, it was that his level of stubbornness mirrored hers exactly.
As if he sensed her weak faith in him, Cassian gave up on his pleas and returned to their group. If they were in a graphic novel, a cloud of thunder would have floated over his head, releasing blots of lightning and heavy rain.
“Aw, what’s the matter general? Will none of your friends agree to play with you?”, Nesta called out to him as soon as he was in earshot. Teasing him now was mighty brave, but as soon as the warlord took in his mate, his whole expression softened.
“I seem to remember that one particular friend couldn’t get enough playtime with me just this morning.”, he sat next to Nesta with a sigh while she was busy blushing. Gwyn couldn’t not smile at the sight. One of her best friends had found her ultimate happiness and it showed. Nesta had a harsh sort of elegance about her, regal and strong features, but when she saw Cassian, her face transformed into something of otherworldly beauty.
“I could have lived without knowing that.”, Emerie stated, sitting down for their break as well with a cup of water.
“Oh please, like you don’t evaluate every little detail of our sex life when you three get together.”
“Actually, you are not as important as you think, general.”, Gwyn fell into the teasing of their little group. Nesta had found a second family of sorts, but she wasn’t the only one. Gwyn never would have thought she’d call the brutish looking, massive male her friend. And a caring and loving one at that. But she also never would have thought she’d want to call Azriel … a number of different things. Friend being none of them.
Cassian shook his head, levelling his stare on Azriel’s back again. He knew he couldn’t win when all three of the original Valkyries conspired against him. But he would not give up easily on his brother.
Nesta noted his stare. “Let it go, Cassian. If you ask him one more time, he’ll just never speak to you again.”
“But he always bites, sooner or later. I just need to figure out a way to hurt his ego.”
Emerie raised her eyebrows. “And bully him into a fight?”
“Essentially.”
The Valkyries groaned in unison. Cassian and Azriel were a match made in heaven, one being annoyingly hard-headed, the other annoyingly persistent. They would sit here for all eternity if one of them didn’t give in soon.
Emerie sipped her water, a contemplating look on her face. “I wonder if he’d agree when somebody else challenges him.”
Gwyn’s whole body reacted to her suggestion, tensing her already sore muscles. She had a feeling she knew where this was going to go. Cassian, however, practically lit up with excitement. “Who?”
But as soon as he asked, head turned in Emeries direction, his eyes found Gwyn. And Emerie didn’t have to answer anymore.
“Gwynie, my most favourite student.”
But said Gwynie already motioned ‘no’ with her hands, her head shaking from side to side so hard her ponytail whipped across Emeries face. “Keep me out of this please.”
“But Gwyn, you know he has a soft spot for you. I don’t want you to fight with him, just encourage it. Make him believe you don’t like him as much if he doesn’t step up.”
“Cassian, that’s cruel!”, Gwyn was sure she was blushing hard by now, first from all the attention, second from the fact that Cassian thought Azriel would listen to her.
“It’s not! Remember, this is all for teaching purposes. As a scholar, it’s your duty to enhance the experience of our trainees. Sacrifices included”, Cassian argued. The male was smarter than people gave him credit for.
“Look”, he began again, speaking soft and soothing, like a hunter wanting to lure an animal into a trap, “You just ask him what us two had to talk about during training, he’ll tell you, and then you express your incredible disappointment at the fact that you won’t be getting a demonstration fight. I’m telling you, he’d much rather fall into his sword than see you unhappy. I kick his ass. Problem solved.”
Nesta and Emerie barely hid their smirk at his insinuation. Gwyn had to admit, there was nothing more attractive than seeing Azriel fight. Really fight, with someone of equal strength and endurance. And a tiny little part of her also wanted to know if what Cassian said was true. If he would truly abandon his principles at her wish.
“Fine. But you owe me.”
“Excellent.”, Cassian exclaimed, already standing and to pull Gwyn up and into action.
“Get him, girl.”, was all the help she got from her friends, before she began the journey to the other end of the ring. Azriel spotted her right away, his Shadows picking up their pace in swirling around his shoulders.
The closer she got, the better Gwyn could see his gorgeous eyes, the little drawings of black ink peeking from under the leather. She told herself months ago she needed to get a grip when it came to him, but the mental warning did the exact opposite. It was suddenly very warm, and very hard to breath. Thankfully, she could blame all of that on the training.
“Hi!”, she called out to him, standing a bit closer than usual so the other priestesses won’t overhear her baiting. She’d never hear the end of it.
“Berdara.”, the corner of his mouth lifted into the ghost of a smile, “I take it you finally realized that I am the better instructor and now you want to switch groups.”
Gwyn chuckled nervously, crossing her arms over her chest. Many people thought of Azriel as being cold and humorless, only because they never get to really know him. Gwyn noted with excitement how, with each midnight training session that passed, he’d shed one of the thousand barriers that protected him from letting others in. Letting her in.
“I thought I’d use my well-deserved break to check up on you. Since we didn’t see each other yesterday and Cassian seems to be a bit difficult.” Siding with him from the start was probably a good way to approach this conversation.
“Sorry about that. The assignment I had took longer than expected.” He did look genuinely sorry about missing their little ritual. Gwyn just nodded in answer before he continued. “Cassian seems to have set his mind to do a demonstration of a new move today and he is being very persistent about it.”, Azriel explained what she already knew.
“Oh, and why would he ask you about that? Can’t he just show us and be done with it?”
“It would be a demonstration fight, actually.”, he confessed, his eyes setting firmly on hers. Gwyn waited a while. He always looked a bit shy whenever he contemplated on sharing more than necessary. It broke her heart how he was probably thinking he’d bore her with his talking. “I’m not feeling too on it today. Plus, the move he was talking about teaching doesn’t even need a fight to be learned. He’s been trying to convince me otherwise from the moment I got up today. I have a feeling he just wants an excuse to try and beat me up.”
Now or never. Gwyn mustered up her brightest smile. “Oh, that’s a shame. I always find a demonstration fight to be so helpful.”
“You do?”
He bit.
“Well, don’t tell Cassian this, but I personally learn faster when you demonstrate. I mean, whenever we go over a new technique in the evenings, I just grasp it so much easier. Maybe your execution is just cleaner or whatever.” Gwyn pursed her lips, avoiding to look at Azriel who had focused solely on her. “I mean, it could also be the one-on-one teaching anyways. I just have to work extra hard on my own if you don’t feel like you can actually best Cassian in a fight today.”
She threw him another easy smile. There was nothing on this whole planet that he hated more than the sentence she just uttered. Now she needed to change subjects so the whole baiting thing wouldn’t be so terribly obvious. “So, where were you on your assignment yesterday?”
Azriel blinked, face going slack. “Autumn court. And when did I say I’m not fighting because I can’t beat him?”
Gwyn raised her brows, hopefully a better actress on the outside than she felt she was. “I just assumed. I’ve never seen you step away from a challenge. And I didn’t take you for a male who flees if he doesn’t see a clear advantage for himself.” She laced every word leaving her mouth with a matter-of-fact tone.
The Shadowsinger visibly straightened himself, his Shadows coming to a near standstill behind his back. “I’m not.”
“Mh?”
“Stepping away from a challenge, I mean.”, he added, “I’ve never said I didn’t want to fight. We’ll do it right away.”
That has been painfully easy, she thought. And fun. The butterflies in her stomach agreed. “That’s great. Should I go tell Cassian?”
“Please.”, he nodded, already scanning the ring absentmindedly, preparing for battle. “Whose side will you be on?”
“Yours, obviously.”, Gwyn replied. She let herself watch just for a second as her words sunk in and Azriel wasn’t quick enough to hide the broad smile she conjured on his lips. Then she turned, busy with dimming her own stupid grin and made her way back to the waiting group. As soon as Cassian spied her, he knew.
Quietly, so the words won’t travel to the middle of the ring where Azriel positioned himself, he muttered to Gwyn, “You’ll get the biggest, most sugary cake money can buy for doing this, you brilliant girl.”
Gwyn settled next to her friends, the other trainees following suit to watch the fight. Both Illyrians were still warming up a little, talking lowly. Emerie used that time to bend her head in Gwyn’s direction and whispered “I told you. He is so soft for you.”
“I tried to challenge his honor, and not express my personal disappointment, actually.”, Gwyn replied, eyes already glued to Azriel’s form, “So it has nothing to do with me and all with his hurt ego. That makes them two of them.”
“If you say so.”, Emerie had that insufferable, smug expression about her.
Was she really that obvious with her feelings? Was he obvious, and she was too blind to see?
All chatter stopped abruptly as Cassian turned to face the group, hands outstretched on either side of him to make him even more impressive than he already was. Warlord mode activated, siphons glowing faintly.
“Ladies, this demonstration fight, as always, is not for entertaining purposes. I want you to pay close attention to stances, blocks and most importantly for today’s session, the rotation of the torso. You’ll also learn about a new technique now, which you’ll recognize when you see it.”, he preened with joy at the prospect of the fight – and beating Azriel, “Treat this as your extended break, maybe move around a bit if you feel yourself getting cold.”
And then, the fight began. It was clear as day that Azriel still held a grudge against his opponent. He didn’t strike first, just circled him with unending patience, a faint smile on his lips. Cassian, on the other hand, visibly buzzed with excitement, more fidgety and feinting a lot to break through Azriel’s reserve.
The first few strikes were blocked, immediately followed by a counterstrike. Watching both warriors was aesthetically pleasing, but also straining for the eye as they moved with inhuman speed and grace. But it was the years and years – centuries, even – of fighting and their Illyrian heritage that made one of them break through the defense of the other and land a blow. Azriel grunted from the impact of Cassian’s leg in his stomach, stumbling back just a little and flaring his wings to regain balance.
The blow also hurt Gwyn, who flinched when the soft thud travelled across the ring. Hopefully, Cassian would spare him enough so he could still make it to their session tonight.
After the strike to his stomach, Azriel visibly grew more attentive and aggressive, himself landing a series of blows to Cassian’s face and chin, before retreating quickly. Males of that size should not be physically able to move that elegantly, but Az was the living example of besting nature. Little drops of sweat had formed on his forehead by now, making a few strands of his hair stick to it.
They showed their trainees the move they agreed on, repeating it again afterwards in slow motion so everyone got a better idea of foot placement and balance. After that, the fight continued for a couple of minutes more, everyone watching with rapt attention, when Cassian flashed Nesta a covert smile. So, this was showtime for him.
Cassian feigned moving to the right, then turned into the opening he created so he faced Azriel’s back, who – probably expecting the move they agreed on teaching today again – didn’t turn quickly enough. With his leg thrown in the air and meeting Azriel’s neck, he hoisted himself up, turned, and brough Az crashing down with him, his head in a leglock. The Shadowsinger struggled in freeing himself, but Cassian’s leg put too much pressure on his windpipe. He tapped out.
Cassian stood, triumphant, to the cheers of his trainees. Azriel stood too, still out of breath and asking with a raspy voice that made Gwyn’s body tingle, “What the hell was that?”
“Oh, just a new technique, brother. You should stay up to date too with your own training.” If smug was a person, it would be Cassian.
As Cassian was still reaping cheers and congratulations from some of the Valkyrie, Nesta at their forefront, Gwyn stood to make her way to a defeated looking Shadowsinger.
“That did not look like fun.”
“It felt even less like it.”, he still managed to smile at her through the visible pain he struggled with, “Did I disappoint you dearly? I usually see his attacks coming, but that move was either very new, or very old.”
“Oh, not at all. You still got a lot of strikes in that Nesta will have to tend to in a minute.”
“Thank you for not wanting to hurt my ego even more. For the next fight, I won’t be mad if you side with Cass.”
“I would never.”, Gwyn exclaimed in fake shock, “So he won today, big deal. Next time, it’s your turn again. And I’ll be still cheering you on. I’m loyal like that, you know?”
Azriel laughed quietly, bending his head towards her so they were nearly nose to nose. Gwyn’s breath caught from the intense look in his eyes, his proximity. “Emotionally blackmailing me to agree to a fight… Is that what they call loyalty nowadays?”
Gwyn’s eyes widened in shock, blood rushing to her face. After a beat of silence, she asked, voice very timid. “How did you know?”
“You lathered it on a bit thick with the compliments.”, he smiled still, hopefully feeling not too betrayed from her. And it was a shame, because every single compliment she used had been the honest truth. Azriel made to turn away from her to resume the last bit of training, but Gwyn couldn’t stand to be parted from him now. “Az! I’m sorry for having done that. Truly.”
Azriel angled his head slightly, his Shadows reaching out to Gwyn and discreetly twirling around her wrist. “I’m not mad at you. If not today, he would have used that move next week, or next month. Not your fault. Truly.”
That made Gwyn only feel slightly better. “Can I still make it up to you somehow?”
Azriel contemplated for a while, reading her expression. “I heard you are getting a cake. Why don’t you promise to share it with me?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll bring it tonight. Or whenever I get it!”, a little spark of happiness travelled all through Gwyn’s body at the prospect of not training with him, but just eating and talking. It was the closes thing to a date she could imagine.
That little surge of happiness was quickly replaced however, by a sharp sting on the inside of her right wrist. Quickly pulling down the fabric of her leathers, she gazed upon a black band that wound around her wrist completely. Az mirrored her expression, eyebrows drawn in a frown.
When he noticed his own identical black ribbon nestled among the Illyrian tattoos, he burst out into laughter. “I think we’ve just struck a bargain, Berdara.”
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Plot opinion:
Does anyone else get the feeling that there’s something going on behind the scenes in ACOSF between Elain and Aziel?
“Because of the shit with Elain?”
Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?”
- Chapter 19
“She made ballrooms into battlefields and plotted like any general. Like you two,” she said, nodding to Cassian, and then, a bit more shyly, to Azriel.
- Chapter 44
“I was just checking on desert,” Elain explained as they approached the doorway and Azriel. Nesta met the shadowsinger’s stare and he gave her a nod. Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them.
- Chapter 58
Why is Elain suddenly a lot more shyer around Azriel? Why does she feel the need to explain herself to him?
We know from the bonus chapter that they have been ‘sharing looks and brushing fingers’, however as I am a reader in the UK, I technically shouldn’t be privy to this information. So, I’m going to pretend those bonus chapters don’t exist.
Instead, I think he knows she’s up to something, maybe something she shouldn’t be. Maybe he’s keeping a secret for her. Is she trying to scry? Is she seeing/having visions more than she’s letting on? I think he knows something and he’s keeping a constant eye on her to make sure she remains safe and well.
A fight with Nesta? Send shadows to check on her. Howling, sobbing laughs? Azriel must check she is safe and well!
If Elain’s book is next - and I hope it is - I think SJM might have flashback chapters, scenes between Elain and Azriel which took place during previous books which she has kept hidden to us.
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Chapter Thirteen
A Court of Shadow and Ribbons Chapter Link
Oh, you’re gonna wanna read this one!
The house arranged a beautiful table setting and centre piece. The room was bathed in the orange and bright pinks of the evening sun. Azriel was already there. Dressed casually in black pants and a teal shirt with the cuffs rolled up nearly to his elbows. Cassian and Nesta wandered in, drink in each hand. Cassian passed his spare to Aziel, who took it gratefully and swallowed a large gulp. He looked up at them quickly
“sparkling water?”
Nesta answered for them “I’m not, you know drinking anymore so the house offers what’s best for every situation. Cassian agreed, a totally sober night for him and you will be best – especially with the work you have to do tomorrow”
Azriel nodded “I see, and I agree alcohol is not necessary, maybe I was looking to take the edge off, but I don’t need it”
Cassian laughed “You might, but we’ll back you up buddy”
Gwyn arrived taking the last step slowly and looking around furtively. She was talking to herself quietly “Are you Idisi? Is this scarier that fighting for your life on Ramiel? Can you chill out and have a quiet dinner with your friends and with Azriel? She sucked in a breath “Oh Mother, would you look at him”
Nesta stepped forward and took Gwyn’s hand, having left her drink on the table.
“You are so welcome Gwyn, I can’t believe we haven’t done this before” they hugged and walked to sit at the dining table.
“Please sit down Gwyn. Cass, Azriel we can eat whenever we are ready”
She turned to Gwyn “You know since the house was gifted to Cassian and I, we don’t venture to the kitchens. Every now and then I send a basket of treats or some blooming flowers of Elain’s to say thank you, but Windy does it all. It is an interesting way to live never knowing or bothering to think about what we should eat” she smiled and Cassian stopped talking to Azriel for a moment to appreciate that spirit. A year ago he could not have fantasised about this kind of hope and happiness for her.
Aziel noticed too but his eye was caught more by the slight giggle that Gwyn made, her curls bouncing either side of her face and the way her eyes sparkled with merriment.
“Windy” as Nesta had begun to refer to the house of Wind did not disappoint with dinner. Although you might think it was a Den Mother the way each person was served different amounts depending on their body’s requirements and tastes. It was all food on a theme, but no two plates were the same.
Gwyn was enjoying the food and the easy conversation ranging from training, to the mating ceremony, to singing and pranks that Azriel and Cassian had played on each other and Rhys growing up.
Dessert was served and when Gwyneth’s plate arrived bearing a colourful meringue pegasus, she burst out laughing. The house had remembered her request from the girls night months ago.
She really did not relish eating the work of art, but the dinner had been served in order and amounts to leave her room for this treat. Azriel had heard the story from Cassian about what the house had provided the three recovering females and was so pleased to see Gwyn relaxed and joyful. When she offered him some of her meringue, he took the tail.
“This is only so that we can tell people you did not eat an entire pegasus by yourself” and popped it into his mouth. Gwyn watched every move, caught by the idea of that melt in your mouth delicacy on his tongue, dissolving and fizzing and finally being swallowed. She consciously dropped her eyes to her plate, but hoped that he would not scent her want. A feeling that she just couldn’t stop, rising within her.
Suddenly she wished that she had not eaten all that the house had offered. Her stomach knotted and her heart beat was going to drown out the conversation. In fact, she noticed Cassian and Azriel had stopped speaking and Nesta was looking at her worriedly.
“Gwyn, what’s wrong? you’ve gone pale all of a sudden”
She abruptly stood, pushing the chair back and stumbled toward the dark doors leading to the roof.
“I just need some air.” She scrambled outside. The others too shocked to follow
*
It was dark outside, but she knew every corner and seat and railing here. She moved to a bench overlooking the city and it’s twinkling lights, with one wall of the house behind her. Gwyn sat and breathed. She counted to ten for each inhale and each exhale until the nausea stopped, then began the proper Valkyrie exercises to centre her mind. On purpose she did not try to find a reason for her panic. It was all too obvious.
Moments or hours later Nesta came out to her, carrying one of the house’s magical light sources so that she could find Gwyn. Although, she knew the layout better that anyone, Gwyn realised she was announcing her presence.
“I’m so sorry Nessie, I don’t know what happened” (even though she did and it scared her to death). Nesta sat beside her with one arm over her shoulders.
“Don’t mention it, you know around here, we’re all about do as you feel” She winked. Gwyn knowing full well about Nesta’s behaviour when she arrived up here, and about how many different rooms she and Cassian had enjoyed each other in. She just smiled and said
“Thank you. Really, I appreciate that, but I’m not sure what to do now. Do I sit here breathing or do I come back and face my trainers feeling embarrassed and silly?” She shrugged and Nesta could see the internal struggle for the female who always put on a brave face to cover the unforgettable trauma of death and rape that dogged her still.
“How about a compromise?” Nesta dipped her chin, “Azriel and Cassian and I could come out here to sit with you in the dark, then you don’t have to feel like you look silly because they won’t be able to see you!”
Gwyn huffed a laugh, then it broke to the surface and it came out properly. Nesta joined her and they pushed on each other’s shoulders making the other start up again.
It didn’t take long before Cassian and Azriel made their way out to see what was going on out there. They were talking loudly and teasing each other about who was the best trainer, Nesta blessed them for their attempt at subtlety.
“What’s your opinion Gwyn, who is the best trainer? Your General, OR the guy who helps out sometimes?” Cassian had arrived and dragged over a sunbed made for wings to lay on.
Gwyn looked at Azriel who stayed standing on the other side of Nesta. His silk shirt caught the moonlight and she could see the colour ripple as he breathed
“Well, General" She started and the others laughed
“You definitely make me work harder, Azriel seems to like stretching and cooling down best” Cassian made to accept his win.
“But….” Gwyn continued “The person who helps out sometimes, has, I think, been the reason behind my technique improvement” She smiled at Azriel then and he looked modestly at the ground.
“So, I’m not going to choose!” Gwyn declared. Cassian and Nesta clapped and congratulated her, and Azriel laughed and the joy in that laugh had Gwyn tensing up inside. In a good way. The stomach churning did not happen, but a bubbly, happy humming started in her chest.
Cassian held out his hand to Nesta, beckoning her and she went and lay next to him with her head on his chest and their hands linked across Cass’s belly.
Azriel glanced at the bench vacated by Nesta “May I?” he asked Gwyn softly.
“Of course” She said shyly. What else could she say. She edged a little further from him so that she would not accidentally touch his wings. His shadows stayed as a second skin around him, but where his hand rested on the bench closest to her, they seeped out a little. Gwyn did it without thinking, she ran a finger through the darkness of the inky feelers. She pulled away as they touched her coolly, but stretched her hand out again when it didn’t hurt.
“Can you feel that?” she said quietly
Cassian and Nesta were silent, she knew they could hear her, and Azriel’s reply, but surely someone had asked the shadowsinger about his shadows before.
“Yes, but it’s a feeling not a sense”
Cassian called out “REALLY?” and Nesta put her hand over his mouth laughing. Azriel shook his head “Yes, really. I don’t feel hot or cold or sharp or blunt with my shadows. Right now I just feel happiness, and maybe uncertainty?”
Gwyn slid her hand away. He was reading far too much of her mood right now.
“That’s really amazing” she looked properly at him and fell headlong into his dark blue eyes. He blinked and she was able to look away
“It is pretty good. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have the power, but it’s saved me, well, us, so many times I’m grateful despite the “feelings’ all the time”
Nesta “oohhhhed” from her chair like suddenly Azriel made more sense. Cassian nudged her and she squirmed “What?”
“Well, I was just thinking how tired I am and that I have to get up early tomorrow for Rhys’ little errand, and you know, maybe it’s” he spoke lower “bedtime”.
Nesta got the hint and went a little pink cheeked, although it was too dark to see.
“Good point Cassian, what a responsible mate you are. Definitely bedtime when we’ve got to get going early” she yawned deliberately. Cassian merely stood and took her hand bowing to Azriel and Gwyn
“Brother, Gwyn, thanks for tonight. Let’s do it again soon”
Nesta nodded and giggled at Cassian’s attempt at politeness and sudden need to be alone with her. She had the same idea.
“Thank you Nesta, Cassian” Gwyn nodded but didn’t attempt to rise, instead she looked at Azriel. He stared back but farewelled his friends absentmindedly
“Yeah, bye”
*
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Depth of Your Eyes
Extreme Fluff.
Domestic fluff. Babies!
Elriel Month - Day 24
“Why do you hate me?” lamented the feared and exalted Shadowsinger of the Night Court.
Feared and admired, worshipped for his immense Illyrian power, for his stealth and strength, he, the great and mysterious spy master, the male who made enemies tremble and flee, and females swoon, failed utterly and completely at this one task—having his chunky newborn son open his eyes for him.
When his son was born, the first thing that shocked everyone—parents and healer and midwife—was his very impressive size. How the delicate, slender, elegant Elain even managed to bear him—without much difficulty too—was a mystery.
But the Cauldron loved Elain and strove to make Elain happy. It gave Elain an almost painless labour, though it was lengthy and uncomfortable nevertheless, and while Azriel was out of his mind with worry and trepidation, not knowing whether the baby’s wings would cause damage or even more serious issues, Elain was serene and happy.
The nightmare that was Nyx’s birth was still fresh in Aziel’s mind—the blood, the gore, Nyx’s tiny lifeless body in Mor’s arms, and Feyre, with a horrific gaping slash across her abdomen, bleeding out, Death hovering just above her. Therefore, Azriel dreaded Elain’s labour. For ten months he was a wreck. He was too happy, too elated, too content, too joyful in his life, and there bound to be repercussions for all that bliss.
The baby was conceived momentarily. “Let’s make a baby,” Azriel proposed a little drunkenly to the giggling and smiling Elain. They were enjoying a glorious sunset on the sea, in a tiny town with whitewashed buildings and blue roofs, in the Summer Court. It was far from Adriata, far from visitors and everyone else and they indulged in endless white sand beaches, fresh seafood and lots of local wine, swimming in the azure waters of the sea and enough lovemaking to leave them both sore and hoarse. “Now?” Elain kissed him. He shrugged, “why not now?”
And it happened—‘now’. When they returned from their holiday, she found out that she was expecting their baby.
Azriel couldn’t lie, but he was feeling rather smug.
“What the fuck kind of seed you got, brother?” muttered Cassian. “You just knocked her up in a day?”
Azriel only shrugged innocently.
As if this was to be expected. Of course he’d impregnate her in a day! But it wasn’t at all what he thought would happen—he thought that as with all Fae, this would be a lengthy process full of false starts, crushed hopes and nerves. But the Cauldron loved Elain and wanted to make her happy.
Now, he was holding his chunky son in his arms. Calm and peaceful, the baby took after his parents in temperament. He was mellow and not fussy, docile and good-natured. His appetite was monstrous though. He ate and ate and ate. At his already great size, Azriel muttered ‘you are going to be Cassian’s size by the time you are three’. And because he ate so much, he was rather plump, to put it kindly, which meant that his hamster-like cheeks obscured his eyes. At three weeks, their baby mostly slept and ate, so periods of play and interaction were minimal—hence, Azriel’s failure to actually see the colour of his son’s eyes.
Elain claimed that the eyes were hazel. Nesta insisted that they were ‘Archeron’ eyes. Cassian’s assessment was ‘I think brown. Like dirt’. Amren went with ‘I don’t know, I didn’t look closely’. Yet they all claimed that they’d seen his eyes.
Azriel was seated on top of the covers in their bed, propped against the cushioned headboard. His wing curled around Elain, who was sleeping next to him, pressed to his side, her arm thrown over his stomach. Their son, sturdy and large, almost the size of Azriel’s forearm now, was sucking noisily, eating like he hasn’t been fed in a week. He was fed less than three hours ago.
The bottle—a new invention from Dawn—wasn’t widely used just yet, but Azriel loved it. At first, Elain was reluctant to utilize it, preferring to breastfeed at all times, but then…well, then she came to accept how convenient this bottle invention was. Especially because Azriel was a nocturnal creature and had no issues with staying up or waking in the middle of the night. And with their gluttonous son demanding food all the time, she was still able to function and rest and sleep, since he didn’t really care which way he was getting his food, as long as he was getting it.
Azriel was looking down at the delicious bundle in his arms, and thought that his baby would end up looking very much like him, if he wasn’t so chubby. Right now, he was all round and soft and filled with folds that others wanted to bite and pinch.
Cassian, in fact, did bite his nephew’s little fat wrist, and Elain caught them, warning that Cassian wouldn’t be allowed to feed him if it happened again. “but it didn’t even hurt!” he defended himself feebly. “Just a little nibble…He is such a fatty!”
“No. Biting.” ordered Elain. “Or you’ll be off bottle duty!”
That was a serious threat that Cassian took to heart, because he absolutely adored feeding the baby with the bottle. He and Nesta were enthralled with him, quietly arguing and fighting about whose turn it was to feed him next. Elain and Azriel frequently overheard ‘you did it last time!” “no, but he likes me more…” “gods above, he does not like you more! He clearly prefers me!” “he was crying with you!” “yes, that’s because you made him cry!”
“We only have two choices,” said Azriel with a sigh, watching Cassian coo and babble to the baby one day, rocking him and singing him all kinds of bawdy Illyrian songs. “We either forbid them entry into the house,” at that, Elain frowned. “Or, we just let them be and simply assume that our son’s first word will be ‘fuck’.”
Adhering to the Illyrian tradition of not naming a child until he was one month old, the baby remained nameless. Well, Elain and Azriel knew what he would be called, but speculation ran rampant.
Elain had officially asked Cassian and Nesta to be the baby’s Guardians, a very important and respected position in the Illyrian society. It would fall on Cassian to start teaching his nephew how to fly—and when Elain formally requested for him to become the Guardian, Cassian shyly teared up.
“Yes, Petal, of course,” he nodded nervously, with aching sincerity, “it would be an honour. Are you sure?” Cassian still worried, “are you sure you don’t want to ask Rhys?”
Elain embraced the General gently and lovingly, and whispered, “I’ve never been more sure of anything, Cass. Only you. I’d only trust him with you and Nesta.”
It was Elain’s right as the mother to select the Guardians for her child, so while Azriel suspected who her choice would be, he waited for the official announcement along with everyone else. Eventually, the Guardian would present their son with his first sword, and begin teaching him to fight.
“Well, I want my baby to have the best,” said Elain, kissing Nesta’s flushed cheek. “Who is better than the Commander General of the Night Court armies and the Valkyrie herself? Will you two do us the honour of accepting him into your Guardianship?”
“Yes!” both of them almost yelled their acceptance.
Now, Nesta and Cassian was preparing something grandiose for the Naming Ceremony.
But first things first.
“Hey lovie, why don’t you look at me?” murmured Azriel, rocking his son gently against his chest. At first, the baby leapt towards his nipple, received nothing from it and gave an angry squeak of disappointment.
“Sorry, my friend, at this point, I think you should already know where the good stuff comes from,” said Azriel, as he offered the bottle. “I know, I know, not the same, but close enough. Believe me, I tried it straight from the delicious source and I agree, it is much better,”
“Stop being gross,” moaned Elain, and slapped his stomach.
He laughed.
“I am not being gross. Just honest. If I can suck on your titties,”
“Oh, gods, yes, I know. You’d rather suck on my titties than a bottle. I’ve heard this before,”
“And I stand by my opinion. So does my son. He has good taste. Now, go back to sleep.”
Elain ran a sleepy hand over the edge of his wing and turned around, pressing her lush ass into his thigh.
He drew his knuckles over her cheek and she reached for his fingers with her lips, kissing them, before tumbling back into her slumber.
Gods, he loved her.
The baby didn’t like all this jostling around him, and grabbed Azriel’s hand with his stubby fat fingers, steadying him and the bottle.
“Sorry,” Azriel murmured and looked down, stroking his baby’s soft brown curl that jutted out proudly on top of his head. “Mama is such a beauty…we can’t forget her either, even with you. I love you both very much.”
The baby nodded sagely, as if agreeing with his father. Yes, indeed, his mother was gorgeous and beautiful and very nice, and required his father’s attention. It was very understandable.
But this male, this father of his—he liked him very much as well. He was very kind and he fed him and changed him, and sang songs with him, and played with him, and…well, he loved him.
Azriel was smiling softly to himself, watching the baby, and then, suddenly, his son opened his eyes and grinned at him. Grinned a huge toothless smile—his very first one. He never smiled for anyone before, but this was it.
This was for his father.
This male, who’s waited for him for a long, long time, hoping against hope that one night, he’d have him in his arms and receive this huge, satisfied smile, which was meant only for him. An undeniable, glorious reward for centuries of suffering and sadness. He grabbed his father’s scarred finger in his fist and blinked at him with the depth of his Archeron eyes.
#azriel#azriel and elain#elriel#elain#elain archeron#elrielmonth21#elrielmonth#my writing#elriel fanfic#cassian
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Meet Me in the Silence
Elriel Month - Day 5
Continuation of��‘Forbidden’
Honestly, tooth-rotting fluff, some Nyx, stabbing Cassian with fork, Azriel singing and relationship stuff
Azriel loved Nyx. He didn’t love him because Nyx was cute and pudgy, or because he was his nephew, or because he was a fun, if demanding baby, and not even because spending time with him was a private relief for Azriel. A time to let go, a time where he could spend rolling around on the carpet, helping Nyx with blocks, rattles and the construction of pillow forts, watching Nyx sneeze little whiffs of starry night.
Nyx, unbenounced to him, showed Azriel some truths that Azriel couldn’t face before. The thing with Nyx was that he was a baby and he didn’t care—he didn’t care about Azriel’s scars and his ugly hands, he didn’t care about Azriel’s cruel ways, or the services that he provided to the High Lord. Nyx didn’t care about how many people fell under Truth-Teller’s deadly edge, or what Azriel had to do on the battlefields or during the Blood Rite. Nyx didn’t judge. As an infant, he wanted the same thing from Azriel as he wanted from everyone—warmth and comfort, kindness and love. He wanted to be rocked to sleep, fed, changed and played with. He didn’t care that the bottle was held by the same hand that tortured the Night Court’s enemies, or that the man who held him to his chest did some unforgivable things in his life.
As the last nine months rolled by, Azriel had to do some re-evaluations of his life. He had time on his hand, to be sure. Instead of courting Elain, like he wanted to, he thought. There was nothing much else left for him to do.
He thought that perhaps, despite his internal denials, Elain was much like Nyx—she accepted Azriel for what he was. Scars and all. Her acceptance did not stem from naiveite, though, but love. The realization hit Azriel like a sledgehammer. He crawled towards it, slowly, but surely, rethinking every touch and every smile, recalling every smirk and sparkle of the caramel-brown eyes, all the jokes and jabs, and gentle touches and finger brushes. Recalled the worry on Elain’s face when she knew that he went on his missions—even if they weren’t particularly dangerous. The pain that was etched on her features, when he returned in a particularly foul mood, and she knew that it was because he did things that marred his soul. He remembered her casually handing him a whiskey, which he’d gulped down in one go. Or a cup of tea, with honey and lemon, just like he liked. The gooey caramel cakes that she made—they were his favourite—and they began making a frequent appearance on the dessert menu. The past nine months of their forbidden love—is that what it was?—were the time when Azriel finally felt loved. For the first time in his life. Mor never really loved him, not like he needed to be loved. His brothers—well, they were his brothers, so that was that. Elain loved him. Of that, he was now certain. Elain loved him without touching. Without kissing. Without romance. Without courtship. Without gifts or presents or flowers. Without promises. Without expectations. It’s like she couldn’t help herself, even if she tried. She needed to love him, as much as he needed to be loved by her. All her tiny gestures of comfort and care created a glittering mosaic of love and devotion, which he only now began to piece together. And it pained him that she was not free to express herself as she wanted to, because loving him came with a hefty, unreasonable price.
For her, he’d fight. For her, he’d be the person she deserved. When she began choosing him, it was the first time in his life when someone actively chose him, despite all his shortcoming. And he wanted her to continue choosing him, every day, making the decision to love him.
Azriel had a lot of time to think about it, in silence.
Azriel was a good cook. One of his may hidden talents. He spent much of his time alone, or in places that were foreign and unfamiliar, or in the army, and necessity being the mother of invention, he had to learn how to cook. And then, he became quite good at it. He had to draw the line at baking, but he could make a steak like nobody’s business, and eggs every way were his specialty. Tonight though, he was tired and distracted. It was the first time in a very, very long time when he and Elain were alone, so he didn’t particularly want to waste it on cooking. What’s more, with Nyx being the raging little monster that he was today, Azriel wanted to put the kid to bed as soon as possible and just relax. For a meticulous planner, tonight, he had no plans at all…and it both excited and frightened him, because it would just be the two of them and they’ll have to figure it out.
“Breakfast for dinner?” he offered, while Elain set Nyx’s food in front of him. He was too quick for her and immediately jammed his whole fist into the vegetable mash, soliciting a groan from her, as he began licking his palm and fingers with gusto.
“Whatever you want to make,” she agreed, as she began wiping the mess that Nyx made, while Azriel smirked, shaking his head. He tossed two slices of ham in the skillet, and allowed it to crisp up and caramelize.
He came behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, burying his face in her hair. She smiled, momentarily lost in the sensation of closeness and comfort that he always offered her, so effortlessly too.
“You know,” warned Azriel, using his ‘stern’ voice, looking at Nyx, “for your behavior, you should be sent to an Illyrian training camp. Just so you know what’s what. There, there won’t be 10 people looking for Brute for you, or uncle Cassian swimming with you in the pool, or Elain feeding you lemon cakes, or aunt Nesta reading to you the same book over, and over, and over, and over again. No aunt Mor taking you on a pony, and no Varian building sandcastles with you, only to watch you destroy them.”
Elain, tucked against his chest, was laughing. Especially because Nyx was glaring at Aziel unhappily and suspiciously.
Then, she said, softly, almost to herself, “I am happy that he is happy. That we can give him the childhood that none of us had. Let him be a little bit spoilt, because he is so loved.”
There was longing in her tone. Longing for something that she probably desired for herself. Those conversations have never been had between the two of them. Gods, they’ve never even been together in public, let alone had conversations about the future, and a future that included children. It was never something Azriel even thought of, considering his ‘luck’ in love, and his line of work. But he heard her. So he gave her a little kiss on the cheek and returned to his cooking.
Elain was feeding Nyx the last of his food, when Azriel placed two plates on the table, and poured both of them a glass of ale.
“Beer with breakfast,” she giggled. “I like the way you think, shadowsinger.”
He laughed, loving how easy it all was. How easy the banter came, how relaxed they were together, how there were no pressures at all when it was just the two of them. Well, three.
“Alright, you’ve taken enough of everybody’s time today,” he decided, as he fished Nyx out of the highchair and went to wash his face and hands again. Elain remained seated, watching the two of them, with her chin propped on her hand.
Was it normal to be that enamoured with a man? When he did mundane things? She had to admit—Azriel was indescribably beautiful. That alone would attract anyone. The gargantuan wings, ticked tightly, but not tensely against his back didn’t hurt either. The span of his enormous shoulders, the movement of those thick muscles around the arms, over his back, which moved and bulged as he wrestled with Nyx, who was refusing to get his hands washed, were mesmerizing. She knew that she shouldn’t be so dazzled by his looks, but she couldn’t help herself. But it was more than just admiring the elegant cut of his body, the well-fitted trousers that did very nice things to his thighs and his long legs, or the enticing forearms that were exposed from his haphazardly rolled up sleeves. The tattoos, in fact, snaked lower than she anticipated. She’d never seen him undressed—Cassian, strong, beefy and powerful, and the leaner, thinner Rhysand—plenty of times. But not Azriel. He’s been annoyingly timid. All three were tattooed, but apparently, Azriel’s reached all the way to his scars. She smiled to herself, amazed and bemused. Who would’ve thought that she, Elain, would be so attracted to a winged and tattooed male? What a far cry from the ordinary, plain Greyson.
Azriel plopped Nyx down on the floor, tossed him Brute and some toys and then quickly threw a shield around them, so Nyx was contained and didn’t attempt to wander from the kitchen.
“You should’ve started,” he nodded to her untouched plate, as he sat down.
“Not without you,” she said. “Looks very good!”
“I try,” he said bashfully and they tucked into to the scrambled eggs, ham and vegetables.
“Oh, gods, it’s really good,” she almost moaned.
“Baby, it’s just eggs,” he reminded her, secretly very pleased with her reaction.
“Well, baby likes them!” she giggled, cutting into the ham. Azriel watched her, watched the movement of her hands and she asked, “What?”
He chuckled and said, sipping his ale,
“I recall when you were planning to kill Cassian with a fork.”
Her brow furrowed.
“What?”
“Oh, you don’t remember?” he was laughing softly.
“I don’t think it’s even possible to kill Cassian,” she noted.
“I’d agree. But you were ready and eager.”
“When was I planning to kill Cassian?” she demanded.
“First time we met—at dinner. I remember Nesta…well, being Nesta. And Cassian—Mother save me, the moment he had her eyes on her, he was just dripping with this hideous arousal,”
Elain almost choked, eyes wide.
“What?”
“It was horrible,” he gave an exaggerated shudder. “Rhys and I were traumatized. Those two were going at it, as usual, fighting, sniping…whatever they do, and all we could smell was him getting hotter and hotter. That dinner,” he shook his head at the memory. “It was something else.”
She was laughing, nodding.
“And you?” she asked, at last.
He gave her a long thoughtful look. A tender, loving look that made her throat bob, and suddenly she was hot…much like Cassian.
“Honestly?” he asked quietly, not taking his eyes off her.
“Yes.”
“I thought that I saw the most human and the most beautiful girl in the world. Utterly unattainable. Engaged to another man. But surprisingly unafraid of us,”
“I was very afraid of you!” she argued. Azriel smiled.
“You three were huge!” she cried. “With these enormous wings,”
He raised his brow suggestively and she smacked his arm,
“Oh, shut up,”
“I didn’t even say anything,” he shrugged, “but please, tell me more about our huge wings, and our generally superior size,”
“I am not telling you anything,” she snapped, her cheeks red, and he was delighted.
“But you do admit that you tried to kill Cassian?”
“I didn’t try to kill him. Just defend myself, if there was need,”
“Pretty sure Nesta would’ve unmanned him with her bare hands,”
“Of that, I have no doubt.”
“And me?” he pressed, “you didn’t want to stab me with a fork?”
She gave him a cool look of nonchalance and recalled,
“You suddenly turned into a poet!”
“Did I?” it was his turn to be confused.
“Something about hearing the wind song, or something,”
“I don’t even remember that,” he confessed, a slow blush spreading over his cheeks.
“I do. I guess we remember different things about that evening.” She glanced at him from under her lashes and added, “I just remember thinking that you were the most handsome man—male—I’d ever seen. I didn’t even think that people could be that beautiful,”
Azriel’s blush deepened and Elain secretly enjoyed watching him squirm a little. She was well aware of the fact that he was always uncomfortable when people mentioned his appearance. He knew that he was handsome, almost unnaturally so, but whatever horrible words and deeds he’d experienced in his childhood warped his perception of himself. At times, she wanted to assure him that no one paid much attention to his hands…she certainly didn’t. She always found his hands, the scars on them just as attractive as the rest of him. They were simply a part of him, just as his beauty was. But he struggled. She knew it.
And as she always did, when she wanted to reassure him, she took his hand and brought it to her lips. He stilled. She kissed. Kissed the inside and outside of his palm. Watched him. Watched him tense, but not pull away his hand. Kissed each long, strong finger. Kissed the rough skin. Kissed the pain and the doubt. Not away, but at least temporarily.
Bored and tired, Nyx fell asleep on the floor, sprawled on the rug, clutching Brute.
“We have to take him upstairs,” muttered Elain, releasing Azriel’s hand.
She didn’t know how to deal with the intimacy of their relationship. Her feelings were raw and exposed, and she was painfully aware of her own inexperience. She didn’t know how to be seductive. Had no idea how to play games—wasn’t really looking to learn either. But she wasn’t dazzling or mysterious, and had no inkling of what Azriel expected, of what he wanted. He was so unbearably difficult to read, while she was stupidly, obviously in love with him. She was the Cassian to his Nesta. She was the one dripping with arousal, unable to stifle her need, or dampen her desire. He probably saw her as the fool that she was.
Frustrated, she made to get up from the table, but he caught her wrist and clasped it gently, as always reigning in his terrifying strength.
“Come here,” he murmured and pulled her to him, until she settled on his lap, feeling both awkward and happy. “Lainey,”
“I like baby,” she blurted.
He nodded, and said, “Baby, you don’t need to pretend with me…I…” he swallowed, thinking how to continue. “You might be surprised, but it’s new for me as well. I’ve had,” ugh, he really didn’t want to discuss his past lovers with her, not right now. “I am not inexperienced,” he said diplomatically. No, he wasn’t. “But this,” and he waved his hand between them, “this is new for me as well. I’ve never felt this much…for anyone. Ever,”
“What becomes of us, Az?” she asked softly.
“Whatever you want,” he stated simply.
“But,”
He shrugged, “there will always be obstacles,”
“Rhysand is more than just an ‘obstacle,’” she reminded him.
“Rhysand, frankly, can go and fuck himself,” Azriel said flatly.
The new, Fae Elain wasn’t scandalized by the coarse language. The three brothers, Nesta and Mor cursed like sailors, and Elain found herself throwing an occasional ‘shit’ and ‘dick’ in her speech. So it made her smile when the usually controlled, polite Azriel unleashed his mouth.
“He is your High Lord,” she reminded him.
“He is technically everyone’s High Lord, but it doesn’t mean that he gets free reign on doing whatever he wants. If I am not asking him to give up Feyre—remember how he snuck her out from Tamlin’s clutches—then he doesn’t get to tell us what we ought to do.”
The thing that he’s been carrying in his pocket was burning through him, a constant reminder. He shifted and then looked straight at her and tucked an errant strand of her hair behind her ear. For someone who didn’t crave or enjoy touch, the desire to touch her was constant. He didn’t even need anything sexual at this point, but feeling her skin against him, in whatever way, was beyond satisfying.
“Did you promise him anything?” she inquired, moving even closer to him, loving the heavy warmth of his arms around her.
“Absolutely not!” he spat. “He is completely overstepping, and I’ve been humouring him up until now, but it seems to be that he is a little too comfortable with the status quo,” he looked at her, his voice grave, “I hope you didn’t promise him anything either?”
She shook her head,
“No. I didn’t say anything.”
A whoosh of breath escaped him. “Thank the Cauldron.”
Elain stroked his cheek with the backs of her fingers and said, sharply this time, “Everything’s been taken away from me once already. I wasn’t prepared to give you up. You are the only thing that I want, and Rhysand wasn’t going to take that away from me. From us…” she glanced at him, “if you feel the same…”
“Do you need to ask?”
She smiled.
Azriel exhaled deeply and then cupped her face between his hands. He was going to do it. He needed to do it. She devoured his gaze, the look of intent in his forest-green golden eyes, the determined set of his jaw. He left her, once, waiting…Waiting for him to take the next step, waiting for him to act and he didn’t. Not today.
“Elain,” he swallowed audibly, and she felt that he was nervous. “Will you permit me to court you?”
Azriel wanted to do this properly. Elain deserved it—deserved to be treated with kindness and respect, but he deserved it as well—he wanted to do what so many others took for granted. It never came naturally to him, the normal things, and for once, despite everything, he was going to make this one thing happen.
Nyx moved on the floor, woke up and let out a scream. Confused, he looked around and began babbling tearfully ‘ma, ma, ma’.
Elain slipped off his lap and gently cooed “Shhhh, come…come, my sweet boy,” and picked him up. Azriel watched them, not even upset at the interruption.
Nyx was crying in earnest now, and not even Brute was enough to console him.
“I am going to try to put him to bed,” she whispered, rocking the baby against her chest.
Azriel opened his arms and said, “hand him over.”
“But,”
He carefully took Nyx from her and the move did not result in silence or calm, and Nyx cried just as sadly, looking for his mom. As Azriel made his way down the hall and towards the stairway, with Elain trailing him, he began to sing. In a language that Elain did not know, but understood innately to be Illyrian. The way the sounds rolled off Azriel’s tongue was natural, the melody lulling and sweet. His voice was soothing and pleasant, with a gravelly note that came from the back of his throat. Nyx stilled, blinking at him. As they slowly went up the stairs, Azriel rocked and cuddled Nyx, stretching his wings so they covered them in a dark canopy, the words of the lullaby muffled, but just as beautiful. Elain wished that it didn’t end…There were just a words that she picked up ‘warrior’ and ‘sleep’—something she learned from Cassian, who was teaching Nesta some Illyrain phrases, now that they spent a decent amount of time in their Illyrian bungalow.
In Nyx’s nursery, Azriel put the baby down in the crib and covered him with a blanket, rocking the crib lightly, as he continued his song, quieter now, seeing that Nyx’s eyelids drooped.
Wordlessly, he lifted his arm and Elain slipped to his side, and wrapped her arm around his torso. They never needed words.
Sleep, warrior heart
Sleep and know that you are loved
Sleep, warrior heart and meet me in silence
Find dreams and peaceful slumber, my little warrior heart
Azriel quietly translated the song, without her prompting. He knew that she’d want to know what the words meant. He, however, did not explain the history of the song and where and how he’d learned it.
“Yes.”
He looked down at her, a silent question on his face.
“The answer is ‘yes’,” she repeated. “You may court me.”
“Thank you,” was all he said.
They left the nursery and stopped in the hallway.
He put his hand on the back of her neck and stroked.
“Then I’d like for you to have this,” he said at last. He took something from his pocket and laid it in her palm. It was a key.
“We will have to meet in silence.”
#elrielmonth#elrielmonth21#elriel#azriel#elriel fanfic#elain x azriel#azriel and elain#elain archeron#elain#nyx#my writing
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Chapter Twelve
A Court of Shadow and Ribbons Earlier Chapters HERE
Short one - sorry!
Amren and Rhys were in the office, Feyre and Nyx playing outside.
“You’re going to have to think more about this Rhys, for the sake of all of our people and all the islands people. A solid unified court working for those who are most disadvantaged, the poorest, the…..”
“Enough Amren” he nearly yelled
“Enough” more quietly, “I know. Feyre and I have been discussing, and arguing, a bit. This needs bigger plans and loads more information” He looked up at Azriel
“A little late to save me from the miniature assassin, Spymaster” He smiled in self-effacing demeanour. “We’re discussing Hybern, Koshei, not to mention Beron of the Autumn Court and Bloody Tamlin. How the best defence might be a well timed attack, well you know, show of force” He indicated that they all should sit. Amren took up a third of the high backed winged lounge and Rhys sat on the edge of his desk tapping one foot.
Azriel sat and spoke, it was always best to just say what you thought here, arguments and pros and cons could all be sorted through later.
“I don’t envy you this Rhys, but I agree with Amren”
The others rocked back where they sat and Amren nodded
“You see, the shadowsinger sees what I see, prosperity and keeping those bastards across the seas in line.”
“I disagree with that Amren” Azriel interrupted, “I only agree that for Prythian, further even, Rhysand and Feyre would make far more sympathetic and fair rulers. What we have now is broken. Squabbling courts, bad elements slipping into the Spring Court and the human lands, ruling the Autumn Court and training armies in the Illyrian mountains”
Rhys merely nodded his head. All of these threats were life long. He didn’t remember a time when the High Lords did not position and jostle for power.
“Az, I need more information. I want to know who’s with us, really with us on this. QUIETLY. This idea does not leave this room. Feyre knows and Cassian and Nesta have been a part of some talks. No one else is told. Mor hates the idea so that’s going to be a hurdle if we take this road”
“And Elain, Lucien and Varian?” Amren added
“Nope, not now” Rhys was firm “We do not want to start a war over a rumour and we may just sit on this, and the Trove. No, No leaks” Rhys stood and looked out at his son and mate. Azriel spoke quietly
“It could mean peace for centuries Rhys, we have to consider it”
“Ok, we’ll keep it in play, but Aziel, talk to Lucien and get Cassian to meet with Eris. It’s about time he did some work and stopped planting his seed every waking moment” Azriel nodded and held in a laugh.
“I’ll tell him tonight, we’ll get on it in the morning”
“I’d prefer now Az.” Rhys was edging toward an order
“How about not today” Azriel thought he was using his best secret voice and that Rhys would assume he had other spying plans in place that were time sensitive. Rhys was intrigued. He knew exactly what the spymaster was up to as far as intelligence work. Today was personal.
“Speak Azriel, give me a reason not to order you to approach Lucien today”
“Well, it’s really for relations with Lucien, he’ll be more willing to listen to me if I do this thing I’m planning for tonight.”
Amren had approached now. “I see the shadowsinger is resolute Rhys. The ginger haired warrior must be really pulling his chain”
Rhys agreed “Maybe Azriel’s ‘future’ is more important than these arrangements” He gave Azriel a wink. He and Amren must have known already, bloody big mouth Cassian.
“Yes, he told me when I said that I wanted you all here for a gathering tonight”
Azriel swore and took the jesting. His family was enough to twist him up some days
“So no family meeting tonight?” Amren said. “Varian will be pleased. He wanted to show me something in the city” She turned toward Azriel and winked. Rhys spread his arms
“But tomorrow evening we meet here, no guests, no ‘friends’. Just us. And you and Cassian will have more reports for me by then” He nodded his head in emphasis.
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