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shedoessoshedoes · 2 years

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Behind Their Backs

HELLO, and welcome to I think I want to write angst and then I realize I hate doing that so HAVE SOME FLUFF!! Written for Elriel Week 2022 (Forbidden) (It's in there. If you squint) I hope you love it, and tell me what you think!!

wc: 2031

tw: slight nsfw

tagging: @justheretoreadsposts @danydragons21 *waves*

It’s after midnight when Azriel finally hears his front door open. Keys hit the tray, and then soft footsteps make their way over to his bedroom. He rolls over in bed to face the doorway, one arm propping his head up. The door opens, and there she is.

Elain is stunning, even after a 8 hour shift and then a night out with her sisters. The light from his kitchen behind her gilds her unbound hair, and a tired smile breaks across her face. He loves her, Mother, he loves her so damn much.

“Hi,” she says quietly, making her way over to the chest of drawers.

“Hi,” he says back, voice heavy. He’d almost been asleep. He watches as she pulls out one of his shirts and pulls it over her head. “I almost didn’t think you were going to make it.”

“I know,” she sighs. “I know. I have to get up and leave early tomorrow, too, but I wanted to see you.”

Because his brothers were coming over, and they couldn’t know that she had been here. Because Rhys had decided to tell both Azriel and Cassian that Feyre’s sisters were off limits when they’d first started dating so nothing was awkward. A good idea, in theory, but both Az and Cassian had been nursing crushes for the Archeron sisters since their first introduction, so it just led to feelings of resentment, and in Azriel’s case, lies.

Two years ago, Elain had told Azriel how she felt, and kissed him, and Az couldn’t give a fuck anymore about Rhys’s so-called orders so he’d kissed her back. And Az and Elain had decided to ignore Rhys’s orders and date anyway.

So they went behind their siblings backs: they went for lunch in towns 45 minutes away, waited until late at night to go over to each other’s apartments, turned off their locations so the nosier people in their lives wouldn’t put the pieces together that the reason they weren’t available for family dinners was because they were with each other, instead. They were very good at it. Their family knew they were close friends, and the pair managed to make enough time for each other that they felt like they lived together already.

Az groans, falling back onto the bed. “I hate this.”

Elain sighes, climbing into bed next to him, wearing only one of his t-shirts. “I know. I do, too.” She crawled across him until she was straddling his lap, and pressed her forehead to his. “I want to be able to tell everyone that I love you,” Elain confessed, her voice barely a whisper.

He kisses her quickly: a reassurance that they’d be okay, and that he loved her, too, before responding. “I want to tell Feyre to stop trying to set you up with Lucien. I want to be able to tell my brothers that I can’t go out because I’m spending time with my girlfriend. I want Mor to stop setting me up with every single girl that comes across my life.”

Elain sighs again, and then shakes her head, as though to clear it. “It’s fine. We have five more weeks, and then Feyre and Rhys’s wedding will be over and Nesta and Cassian will finally have hooked up, and our big reveal won’t even be that big anymore. I love you. That’s enough.”

Az wraps his arms around her, presses her closer so their bodies are fully aligned. “I love you. I love you so much that sometimes it hurts to not be around you.”

“Well, that’s what happens when you meet your soulmate, Az,” she tells him playfully, tucking her head into his shoulder and kissing it.

He groans, his head kicking back. “You can’t say romantic things like that and not expect me to react, El,” he tells her, rolling his hips up into hers.

She smiles into his neck, enjoying the game. “You love her, and you want to be around her, and you would rather be with her than your brothers, because I mean, wouldn’t you really rather cancel on them and stay in bed with me tomorrow morning and sleep in, and go out for breakfast–”

Az cuts her off by rolling her over so her back is against the bed and he’s hovering over her. “I think, love,” he whispers in her ear, “That you’re using sex as an incentive for me to cancel my plans.”

“I’m just saying–” Az rolls his hips into hers, and her gasp cuts off her words. “I’m just saying that I think I can be much more entertaining than Cass and Rhys.”

“You’re not wrong. You’re very entertaining in the mornings.”

“I can prove to you how entertaining I can be if you tell me you’ll cancel,” Elain beams up at him and presses a kiss into his chest as her hand starts to trace down his stomach to his pants.

He rolls off of Elain with a groan, and she giggles at how quickly he gives in.

“Fine. It’s not like I really wanted to see them anyway.” Az grabs his phone off the nightstand to text his brothers he’s canceling, and then rolls back on top of her, letting his weight come over her as he buries his head into her chest.

“I love you,” she says again, running her hands through his hair. He starts pressing kisses to her chest, and Elain arches up into him almost involuntarily.

“Eager, aren’t you? I thought you were the one that was supposed to be entertaining, not me.” Az works his way down her body until he’s laying between her legs, pushing her shirt up until she’s bare for him.

She shifts, trying to get him to touch where she wants. “I think this is entertaining enough for you.”

Az laughs, and demonstrates his agreement with a lick clear up the middle of her. He keeps going, not letting up until she’s fallen apart around him and is pulling him back up to kiss him. Az comes to her obligingly, discarding his pants, and soon he’s deep inside of her, his mouth on hers, the two of them falling back into the rhythm they’d mastered over the last two years.

It feels so good, so right, like it always does, like it never has with anyone else.

Afterward, Az rolls over onto his back and pulls Elain onto him so she’s laying on his chest. “Soulmates, huh?”

Elain laughs, blushing. “I thought it would be a good way to get you to cancel your plans. You seem to be a sucker for romantic things like that–I still haven’t forgotten how excited you were when I brought you flowers.”

“Well,” he says slowly, opening the bedside table and reaching into the drawer. “If you’re going to declare yourself my soulmate, you might want this.”

He puts a small box down just within her line of sight, and Elain is immediately wide awake and sitting up. “Az– Az, is that–” they’d discussed getting married before, of course, and they both were ecstatic over the idea of reaching that point in their relationship, but she thought that he was going to wait–at least until they’d told their family.

“Yeah, El, it is,” he says, his voice sounding breathless. He opens the box up, revealing a thin gold band with tiny diamonds all around it. It’s the most beautiful piece of jewelry Elain’s ever seen. It’s also very close to the ring she’d shown him months ago, the ring she’d told him that was her favorite, the ring that she’d thought he’d asked to see as some sort of joke.

Apparently, she’d been wrong, and he’d been hiding a more serious intention.

“Are you okay?” he asks, turning her face so she’s facing him. He sits them both up, back into the position they’d been in earlier that night; him against the headboard, her facing him, their foreheads pressed together.

Elain nods furiously, tears rushing to her eyes. She doesn’t trust herself to speak.

“Okay. I’m going to try to do this, okay?”

She nods again, her tears flowing freely now.

“I don’t have anything planned to say to you. I love you. You love me. We both know that. But El, I have never been loved the way that you love me. You are kind, and selfless, and willing to see me for two fucking years behind our families backs, and–and you bring me flowers, and coffee, and you let me come and watch Schitt’s Creek with you, and I know that doesn’t sound romantic, but I love being able to sit and just be with you.

“I want to marry you because I want to wake up to you every day. I want to marry you because I want to make you tea every morning while you make my coffee. I want to marry you because I want to get into arguments over stupid shit and realize five minutes later that none of it matters. I want to marry you because I want to come home to you every night. I want to be the one that takes care of you when you’re sick, the one that’s proud of you when you get a new job, the one that you grow a family with. I want to be your date to every stupid family event that Rhys makes us go to.

“But most of all, Elain Archeron, I want to marry you because you’re you, and there’s nothing anywhere that comes close to how strongly I feel for you. Marry me. Please. Live your life with me.”

Elain’s nodding furiously, barely able to get the words out. “Yes,” she gasps. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” and then he’s sliding the ring onto her finger, and it’s a perfect fit (but why is that surprising–Az is like a spy: he knows every random thing about everyone, her ring size should be no different) and she’s kissing him, and their tears are mixing, and she didn’t know anyone could feel this happy at one time.

“I love you,” she whispers, in between kisses. “I,” another kiss, this time on his cheek. “Love,” another on his forehead. “You.” A final kiss on his neck. “I am so honored you chose me to be your wife.”

He pulls he down to the bed so they’re both laying down again. Az kisses her forehead and rests his head on top of hers. “I think I like fianceé better than soulmate. This way, everyone knows I chose you, and you chose me, that we chose this fate. It wasn’t any supposed Great Divine. It was just us.”

Elain giggles. “And to think, our entire relationship has been entirely in secret! I thought someone would have figured it out by now. I think I should just go to dinner with everyone on Tuesday with my ring on and see what they all have to say.”

Az chuckles. “That might be the surprise of the century.”

They’re quiet for a moment, basking in the happiness surrounding them. Elain breaks it with a groan. “We only have tomorrow, and then we both have to get up and work on Monday, don’t we?”

Azriel considers this, his eyes turning analytical and then seductive. “I mean, we could just call out. Might as well do Tuesday, too. We’ll be very busy, you know. As fiancés.” She laughs, catching his dirty meaning entirely. Az turns thoughtful “But then we could have our first event as an engaged pair be dinner that night.”

Elain nods her agreement. “I think that sounds perfect.”

“I think we’ll need that alone time.” Elain swats his arm but doesn’t disagree.

She presses her body closer to his. “So, fiancé, I get you all to myself for three days? I don’t know if that’s going to be enough–”

Az cuts her off, kissing her until she’s breathless, and when they finally do calm down enough to go to sleep, they’ve both declared the night the best of their lives.

They’re happy. They’re getting married. They love each other. That’s enough. Who needs fate to tell you who to love, anyways?

Yay!! thank you so much for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments and constrictive criticism is always welcome. My asks are open: let me know what you want me to write!!

#elriel #acotar #elriel fic #elain #shadow bat and flower girl #azriel #pro elriel #acotar 5 #elriel month #elriel month 2022 #elriel fanfiction #elain x azriel #elain archeron

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fawnandshadows · 2 years

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I hurt myself with the angst honestly but it’s worth it. I love coming up with Elriel ideas😍and hey! What better way to share them than with a fellow Elrieler? I hope you’re having a wonderful time!❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

And yesss ofc he would run after her, he’d detach himself from the two girls and run outside after her but when he got there he couldn’t spot Elain. His heart started beating too quickly and his anxiety increased. “Elain!” He called out until he finally spotted her, a lone figure in the dark, walking away from the party. The streetlights illuminated her until she was a light of gold (like the dress she wore;) and Azriel’s head roared. She was walking home. Alone. In the dark. He hurried his steps until he caught up with her and at the same time dragged his hoodie over his t shirt, the same one that was up to his abs after the encounter with the 2 girls. Elain saw that and rolled her eyes again, steps quickening. Azriel missed the wobble on her lips and tears in her eyes

“Elain for fuck’s sake would you stop” he’d say and grab her wrist, turning her around. “Talk to me.” He said with a stern voice. To which she’d look down, tears falling silently on her face. Today took a toll on her emotionally when she was already so tired. “Talk to me” he asked again, more softly but she was afraid of pouring her heart out over someone who didn’t love her back if she did, so she kept quiet.

“I’m going home.” She whispered, afraid of her voice breaking otherwise and turned around, shaking herself from his grip. It took Azriel a minute to shake off the hurt that settled in his chest until he cleared his throat “Fine then. I’ll walk you home.” “Why do you care?” She burst out. “Because I care about you!” He replied in the same biting tone. “I don’t think you do.” Azriel remained staring while she walked on and decided to follow.

To which Elain neither applauded nor tried to stop. So they went in the dark, under silence. In the beginning Azriel was furious and in a bad mood…now he was just sad. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and saw her subtly trying to dry her eyes with her palms. He took in a shaky breath as his chest rattled, his heart splitting at the sight of Elain crying. He had enough. In the middle of the street he stopped her and despite her protests he coddled her into his chest whispering “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry Elain. Don’t be sad” and he’d rock them side to side until her crying subdued🥺🥺- 🦩

Hello Flamingo 🦩 Anon!!!!

Sorry this took me a hot second to respond. I've been a little busy with class work, but I love your messages and out chats!! <3

I'm having an amazing time with these, so please keep them coming!!! 💖💖

OMG I love all of this!!! Elain is definitely carrying her heels that she was wearing — she loved how her legs looked in them (Elain is apart of the short legs club, I can feel it) and now they're just reminding her that her plans blew up in her face. She wasn't even sure what her plans were, but she knew that Azriel liked her in her golden dress and his eyes always darkened whenever she wore heels...and she dressed for him — she always did — and now she was walking home alone while he was in a room with those two girls.

She's walking and can barely hear over her own sniffing and crying and then she just hears, "Elain!" and it vaguely aware of the sound of Azriel chasing after her. So, she furiously is wiping away the snot and tears on her face because even though he's already seen her at her lowest she still has a little but of pride left.

And Azriel immediately reaches for her because he sees that she is shivering and she immediately pulls away because she can't stop picturing him with the blonde and brunette. Azriel is completely stricken that she doesn't want his touch because she has always welcomed it before, and she was the one person who never made him feel awkward or ashamed.

After saying he cares about her, Elain just scoffs and says "I can tell by the lipstick all over your face." And continues to walk on, and Azriel is getting so upset and reminds her that she has a boyfriend and Elain says, "Not anymore!" and keeps walking. So Azriel walks with her, stunned because she and Graysen have been together for so long, and he takes off his sweatshirt and is trying to give it to her because she's shaking and shivering and eventually she' so defeated that she stops and accepts his sweatshirt.

Azriel's heart is breaking as he sees her crying — and he hates himself and Graysen for hurting her, and he hates that he pushed her so hard, but he just knows how perfect they would be together.

When Elain put this sweatshirt on her feels so many things because she's worn it so many times and it smells like him, but there's also the linger scent of the other girls perfume which causes her to start crying again and she's too emotionally drained to stop it and she just lets Azriel pull her into his chest and lets him wrap her arms around her.

Eventually they start walking again, and Azriel takes her shoes from her, but he keeps one arm around her to keep her standing. Once they get to her house it's completely dark because Feyre and Nesta are still at the party... and Elain really doesn't want to be alone, so she invites him inside.

Azriel's eyes widen in disbelief, so Elain rolls her eyes and says, "Not like hat, but you're my friend and I don't want to be alone...but if you want to go back to your girls..."

"Of course I'll stay."

So Elain unlocked the door and they walk up to her bedroom, and she's silently freaking out that Azriel is there with her and she quickly changes into her pjs (which is one of his old shirts that she has stolen) and Azriel is trying to control himself at the sight of her in his clothes so he says, "I've always wondered where that shirt went." and Elain can't stop herself from smiling.

OMG this was so much fun!!😭

#anon #flamingo anon #🦩

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danydragons21 · 3 years

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The Shadows That Sing: Ch. 9

Elriel Multi-Chapter Fic

Chapter 9 is up, and it’s definitely one of my favorites. I just love writing Vassa’s character!

Read it on Ao3 here:

Shoutout to my betas @shedoessoshedoes and @helloyesimrhys!

Let me know your thoughts, my sweet Elriel babies.

xoxo, dany

CHAPTER 9: TRUTHS AND LIES

An old man answered the door. Perhaps it was because she was around immortal and young-looking Fae all the time, but she thought he might be the oldest person she’d ever seen. Deep wrinkles formed grooves and channels among the topography of his face. His mortal heart started beating faster as he took in the sight of her and Azriel (though she was sure this was mostly due to Azriel’s intimidating presence rather than her own, since she was as intimidating as a sack of potatoes), but to the human’s credit, he gave no outward sign of fear.

After introducing himself as Damien, the Steward of the Manor, the man ushered them inside. A split staircase made of stone stood in the center of the spacious foyer, the wide steps leading to a roomy landing with two narrowing flights branching off to either side. The staircase railing was made of wrought iron. Stunningly intricate marble statues and busts atop podiums were placed strategically throughout the entrance hall, and as Elain’s slipper-clad feet pitter-pattered lightly across the black-and-white tiled floor, a glimmer of light caught her eye. Glancing upward, she saw a gigantic crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. The light from the candles on the wall reflected against the crystals and cast glittering diamonds of colored light on various surfaces throughout the hall.

She and Azriel did not speak as they continued to follow Damien throughout the Manor. For such an old man, he was surprisingly quick, and she found herself wishing they could slow down, if only so she could admire her surroundings: astounding frescoes painted on the walls and ceilings, tapestries woven with what looked like real gold, and carpets so plush she thought she could sleep on them. But the Steward led them through the Manor’s winding hallways, and Elain settled for exploring the many treasures another time. She’d be here for a month, after all.

Eventually, they entered a hall that was much darker than the rest of the Manor, and much sparser. Blood-red columns and dimly-lit candelabras lined the narrow corridor. Damien halted in front of a set of arched crimson doors at the end of the hall. Words, etched in gold, covered the doors’ surface, but it was of no language Elain could recognize.

“This is the entrance to the Throne Room. Her Grace is waiting inside for you both.” Damien said.

Elain and Azriel’s eyes met. With a slight nod of her head, Elain motioned to Azriel that she was fine, she was ready, she could do this. And it warmed some crucial part of her when Azriel nodded in return, offering her a small smile, his belief in her nearly palpable.

The doors flew open and the pair stepped inside the cavernous throne room. Lucien stood at the bottom of a set of steep steps. Above him, sitting on a golden gilded throne, was Vassa.

The mortal queen was utterly stunning. Fiery red hair fell to her shoulders, contrasting magnificently against her golden-brown skin. The top of her emerald gown was made of lace and clung tightly to her delicate torso. Once the dress hit her waist, it expanded outward, the perfectly-creased pleats flowing to the ground like a river. The train of the dress was so long it reached the bottom of the steps that led to the throne. Bright blue eyes scanned them smartly. The thought suddenly struck her that if anyone were to figure out her secret mission, it would be Vassa.

Elain curtsied deeply. “It’s lovely to meet you, Your Grace. Thank you for inviting me into your home.”

Vassa smiled slightly, though her piercing eyes still appraised Elain. “You are most welcome, Elain Archeron. Kingslayer . You are even more beautiful than Lucien has described.”

Elain remained silent, schooling her face into cold stone. She felt an irrational flash of rage at the thought of Lucien discussing her beauty like that, as though she was a painting to be ogled at like the frescos in the entrance hall. She snuck a glance at Azriel, trying to gauge his reaction, but his face was as steely as ever.

“I appreciate the compliment, Your Grace.” Elain said finally.

The mortal queen waved a dainty hand, her heavy bracelets jangling as she did so. “Call me Vassa. Your Grace is so formal, don’t you think? We’ll be living together for the next month, and if I have to hear such courtesies every day, I might as well just hand myself over to Koschei now.”

Elain blinked. Even Azriel seemed surprised at the queen’s words.

Clearing his throat, Lucien said, “You’ll realize soon, if you haven’t already, that Vassa does not have a filter. If she thinks it, she says it. It’s something she’s working on.”

Vassa scowled at Lucien, who grinned lightly back at her. Elain felt the strangest tug in her belly at the sight. Ignoring it, she said, “I appreciate the familiarity, Vassa.” Familiarities are for friends. She wondered what that made her and the mortal queen.

Turning her attention to Azriel, Vassa said, “Shadowsinger. It’s lovely to make your acquaintance again.”

Azriel bowed slightly. “Likewise, Your—Vassa,” he finished uncertainly.

She beamed, apparently pleased with his discomfort. “I hear you’re going to be a regular visitor at my manor. I hope you know that you are always welcome at any time, even outside of your scheduled sessions with Elain.” Elain felt an awkward tug around her heart, as though someone had tied a string around her ribcage and pulled. The feeling was uncomfortably familiar, and she knew without looking at Lucien that he would prefer the Shadowsinger not take the queen up on her offer.

Azriel inclined his head. “That’s very gracious of you.”

Grinning mischievously, Vassa said, “It’s not every day someone so devilishly handsome enters my home. I’d be silly not to take advantage of it.”

Elain’s eyes widened. She was not sure what she expected Vassa to be like, but never in her wildest dreams did she imagine her to be so... forward . She turned to Azriel slightly, gauging his reaction, only to find the Spymaster blushing . The knot in the pit of her stomach hardened.

“Is Vassa already scaring off the newcomers?” A drawling voice appeared from the other end of the throne room. Elain knew that voice. She’d heard it before, on two of the worst days of her life.

Jurian strolled into the room, all ease and confidence. He was quite handsome, she supposed, for a mortal, but he paled in comparison to both Azriel and Lucien’s otherworldly beauty. He stopped in front of Elain. “Lady Archeron,” he said, “It’s lovely to see you again.” He then proceeded to bend obscenely low, grab her hand and kiss it lightly, holding her gaze the entire time. Elain’s cheeks turned scarlet. She wasn’t sure she liked the man too much - he seemed far too arrogant.

“Elain is fine,” she told him evenly. He continued to hold her hand. Behind her, she heard the rustle of Azriel’s wings flexing ever so slightly.

“Jurian, you absolute prick, let go of her hand before you lose one of your own,” Vassa said, and although it was clear she was joking, an edge of honesty laced her words. The mortal queen’s eyes flitted to Lucien, who stood tensely beside her, frozen like a statue.

“Just welcoming our new roommate,” Jurian said. He winked at her, but dropped her hand all the same. The mortal then turned to Azriel. “Shadowsinger,” He said with a trace of apprehension. Jurian had been the one to shoot Azriel with an ash arrow in Hybern, Elain suddenly remembered, and her dislike for the man grew. Azriel acknowledged Jurian’s greeting with the smallest nod of his head, like he was flicking off an irksome fly. His shadows swirled ominously around him, and Elain was pleased to see Jurian wince slightly at the impressive display.

Vassa rose gracefully from her throne and made her way down the steep, stone steps. Jurian rushed to grab her hand, helping her down; Lucien’s eyes flashed curiously in response, but he said nothing.

“Azriel, you’ll be staying for a while, I hope?” Vassa asked.

The Shadowsinger nodded, his shadows bobbing along with the movement. “Yes. I’ll be making sure Elain settles in, and then I’ll depart after our daily training session.”

Vassa clapped her hands in excitement. “Oh, you must stay for dinner! I’m having the cooks prepare something special for Elain’s first evening here. We even imported some exotic wine from the southern realms. Oh, please say you’ll stay!” Her azure eyes gleamed with sincerity.

Shifting, Azriel replied stiffly, “I couldn’t possibly impose--”

“You wouldn’t be imposing. You would be a welcome guest. If anything, you’ll be doing Elain and I a favor, saving us from listening to Lucien and Jurian all evening. I’ve never met males who enjoy hearing themselves talk as much as these two.” The two males in question attempted to argue this point indignantly, but Vassa ignored them and looked expectantly at Azriel, awaiting his answer.

Elain bit back a grin as Azriel finally nodded his agreement. She’d never seen the Spymaster acquiesce to someone’s demand so quickly, but it was abundantly clear that Vassa excelled at the art of persuasion, the skill either stemming from her sharp intelligence, inviting aura, or some lethal combination of the two. Either way, she was certain that Vassa would not be easily fooled. That made Elain’s mission all the more difficult.

“Wonderful!” Vassa beamed at Azriel, who continued to look as awkward as she’d ever seen him. It was quite funny, really. “Now we can really get to know each other,” She winked.

Elain frowned. Quickly, she cast around for a new subject, but Lucien beat her to it.

“Have you had any more visions about Koschei?” He asked Elain.

“No, I have not.” She didn’t look at Lucien as she responded, instead staring at Vassa, who had gone still at the question.

“But you’re trying to see him, right? You’re trying to find a way for Vassa to get out of the curse?” Jurian demanded.

Elain blinked. “Yes, of course.” She answered.

Coolly, Azriel said, “Elain just started training her powers recently. She has made immense progress, but does not have complete control over what visions she receives. That will come in time.”

“We don’t have time,” Jurian growled.

Azriel’s wings snapped out menacingly as Vassa laid a steadying hand on Jurian’s arm.

“That was uncalled for, Jurian.” She told the man sternly. The voice of a queen talking to a subject. But when she turned to face Elain, emotion burned in her eyes.

“Please excuse my friend. This curse has, unfortunately, been a burden on us all. But I hope you know how grateful we are--how grateful I am-- that you are doing all you can to help me. After so long with no hope…to even have that glimmer of optimism returned, well, it means more than I can express.”

Elain swallowed back the lump in her throat. “I will do everything I can. I promise.” It was all the comfort she could offer, but Vassa nodded like it was enough.

“Well, enough of this horrifyingly morose chat! Elain, I would love to give you a tour of the Manor. I hear you enjoy gardening. I’m afraid we don’t have a garden on our grounds, but we have something else I think you’ll enjoy just as much. Would you like to see?”

It wasn’t like Elain could say no. Besides, Vassa had her curiosity piqued.

“Gladly,” She responded, smiling lightly.

“Should I come, too?” Azriel murmured. Elain looked up at him, surprised at the question. Why was he acting so protective?

“Oh, we’ll be just fine.” Vassa trilled. “Besides, the aggressive male testosterone emanating from you all is clogging up my pores. Us girls need some fresh air.”

Elain couldn’t help it. She giggled.

Everyone in the room turned to her. Embarrassed, she covered her mouth with her hands, lowering them just enough to whisper, “Sorry.”

But the human queen was smiling at her, something like approval glowing in her eyes. “Well, at least one of you has a sense of humor.”

***

Vassa led Elain through the manor’s hallways, pointing out various portraits of past queens, also known as her ancestors. “That’s my great-great-grandmother, Althea,” Vassa said, gesturing toward a painting of a particularly rotund woman with a face like a toad. “She was the most-hated queen of her age, and almost got my family kicked off the throne.”

Elain’s eyebrows raised at that. “Why was she so hated?”

Vassa smirked slightly. “Did you see that painting of her? She looked like an old witch and had a personality to match. Althea would execute anyone who dared disagree with her, even if it was over something as insignificant as what tea to serve at breakfast. Thank God she died of The Pox before she could desecrate the family name anymore.”

Elain laughed, shaking her head slightly, bemused by this mortal queen with humor and heart as fiery as her tresses.

The Mortal Manor, it turns out, actually was a castle, or at least it had been built as one initially. A lesser Lord and Lady had lived there, so the castle was rather on the smaller side, according to Vassa, but Elain thought it would be a miracle if she ever managed to find her way around the place without an escort.

“It’s considered a manor now, though,” Vassa told Elain, lifting up a tapestry and motioning for her to follow. “It’s a secret passageway,” the queen said in response to Elain’s confused look. “I can’t say it’s much of a secret, though; I’m pretty sure every handmaiden and their pet cat know about it. It’s rather short and just leads to the conservatory.”

The conservatory, it turned out, was the most beautiful room Elain had ever seen. It’s high and arching walls were made entirely out of wide windows. Rows of colorful blooms, perfectly trimmed hedges and shrubs, sprawling plants, and flowers of every kind covered nearly every surface of the wide and spacious area. Heavy sunlight refracted in the glass, coating the various fauna in a blazing, golden brilliance. In the very center was a rectangular pool; lilies floated lazily on the clear and calm surface. The heavenly scent the flowers emitted, the angelic glow of the afternoon sun against the blossoms, the soft chirping of the birds that lived in this cavernous haven...she took a deep breath, soaking in the sudden and steady sense of peace she felt.

“Do you like it?” Vassa’s voice shattered the quiet of Elain’s thoughts.

Turning around, Elain saw the mortal queen standing a bit behind her, a curiously vulnerable look on her face. As if she was nervously awaiting Elain’s reaction. As if she truly cared about her opinion.

It softened that part of Elain. That part she’d hoped to shove away and ignore during her stay because she knew it would only complicate her mission. While her sisters were vehement and slightly mistrustful of every stranger until proved otherwise, Elain had always found a way to connect with each person she came across. Like ivy, sprawling and uncontrollable, her heart just reached out to others.

And that’s what happened now, as she stared at this passionate and willful young woman who she rather liked but was assigned the task of spying on her: Elain’s heart reached out to her.

“It’s sublime,” Elain told her honestly. A beaming grin appeared on Vassa’s face, and Elain couldn’t stop her own smile. “Thank you, truly, for showing me.”

“I hope it makes you feel a little more at home.”

“It does. You’re very kind.”

Vassa smiled again and walked forward to lightly stroke a gardenia. When she turned to face Elain again, the smile was gone, replaced with a look Elain could only describe as queenly . “I know why you’re here,” Vassa said.

Elain froze. “What?” She asked, her throat dry. How could she have figured it out already? Elain had been nothing but polite and kind and oh-so-convincing --

“I know you are not interested in the bond with Lucien,” Vassa said, and Elain’s racing heart relaxed slightly. “He’s told me much about your interactions, and while I don’t blame you for anything...I think it’s clear to everyone here that you have no desire to connect with Lucien. So that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To reject the bond once and for all.”

Swallowing nervously, Elain said, “I...I’m not sure what to say.”

“The truth,” Vassa replied simply. “Just tell me the truth. What is it you want to accomplish during your stay?”

Just be yourself . Azriel’s voice rang in her ears.

“I don’t know, “ Elain answered. “I am not sure exactly what I want to accomplish. And that’s the truth.”

And it was the truth, to a point. Enough of the truth to cloak any deceptions. That’s how Azriel operated, a mix of honesty and an omittance of anything that might erase that honesty. Just enough truth to hide the lies beneath. And so that’s what Elain emulated as she spoke to the mortal queen.

Vassa appraised her for a moment, her sharp blue eyes gleaming. “Why do you detest Lucien so?”

“I don’t detest him.” Another truth, one that Elain had barely admitted to herself. “I just…” she breathed deeply, longing for air and for the insight of what to say next. Truth and lies , she reminded herself. “All I know about him is that he didn’t help Feyre when she needed it most. That he worked with the King of Hybern to steal her back. To steal me , and Nesta. And, whether or not he knew of the King’s plan, he was still there the night my future and my freedom were ripped from me in mere moments. And ever since then...ever since then, I haven’t known what to do with myself at all.”

It was, perhaps, the most she’d ever spoken about the emptiness the Cauldron had left in her. Feyre and the others told her that the Cauldron had gifted her with her powers, while Nesta had stolen from it, but it didn’t feel like that to Elain. No, all she felt was an aching hollowness that echoed in her very bones. A constant and cruel reminder of all she’d lost.

Vassa stared at her, her beautiful face unreadable in the glowing sun. “It changes you,” She finally said. “To have such decisions, to have such freedom taken away from you…” Vassa inhaled sharply, tilting her head up to face the gleaming sun. Elain watched her, watched her golden skin reflecting in the light, watched as the mortal queen whipped her head back. “I understand how you feel, Elain. I hope you know that.”

And while Elain did not know the full extent of Vassa’s story or exactly what she’d gone through while under Koschei’s grasp, she believed her. And she didn’t just think it was because of Vassa’s endearing personality or her own - what had Azriel called it? - ability to inspire trust in others. She felt a kinship in Vassa, like she’d known her in a past life. But she couldn’t put all that into words, so she just nodded.

Vassa combed through her fiery hair and then said in a calm voice, “I also hope you know that, over the past year, I have spent a lot of time with Lucien. I would never try to negate the trauma that you’ve experienced, or try and convince you that he did not play a part in it, willing or not. But I will tell you this, as objectively and simply as I can: He is a good male, Elain. He would never force you to accept the bond. Just as he would never tell you how much your denial and evasion is tearing him apart. I say this as his friend...and as yours.”

Elain just blinked. The honesty was scalding and refreshing all at once. And while her stomach twisted angrily every time she thought of her sisters telling her to address the bond, she found she didn’t really mind Vassa talking about it.

“While you are here, I hope you get to know him. And at the end of your stay, I hope you can make a decision about the bond. One way or another.”

“I will,” Elain said. “I will make a decision.” And it was entirely, completely, wholly the truth.

***

Azriel sat in the dining room with Jurian and Lucien. After an uncomfortable and tense tour of the Manor, the three had gone to the dining room for dinner. The two females had not yet arrived, though.

Elain had been gone with Vassa for a long time. Or perhaps the incredible awkwardness between him and the two males just made it seem like a long time. Either way, he needed Elain to return soon, or else he might just go mad, stuck with just these two pricks and his morose thoughts for company. He couldn’t stop reliving the conversation from the previous evening, when Elain had agreed to this foolish plan. It was nearly unbearable for Azriel, to sit there and listen to everyone try and convince Elain that the bond was something she had to address. Why should she have to do anything? She didn’t ask for the bond. It was clear she didn’t want it.

And yet Azriel said nothing, did nothing, just let them all bombard her with their words and pressures. He didn’t even need his shadows to know how upset it made Elain, how her beautiful face fell into itself a little more with every word the others spoke.

She had agreed in the end, though. And he kicked himself for ever holding out hope that she wouldn’t.

It’s not that he didn’t have faith in her. He knew she could fool and charm just about anyone, so he wasn’t worried about her spying skills. Spying was simply hiding in plain sight, and Elain certainly excelled at that.

No, he was worried about something else entirely. Someone else, to be exact. Because whatever the others might say about not caring if Elain accepted or rejected the bond, he knew that wasn’t true. Elain accepting the bond would be incredibly beneficial in improving the Night Court’s relationships with both the Autumn Court and the Spring Court, and would ensure the continued support of Vassa. As much as Azriel didn’t like Lucien, he couldn’t help but feel a begrudging sort of respect to the highly influential male who held sway over multiple courts. But that didn’t give any of them the fucking right to pressure Elain into anything .

The Mortal Manor made him feel even worse. His shadows had rarely ever been limited in their power, and so it was strange to have them so confined. They could move, of course, and still followed his command, but the entirety of the manor seemed to be close enough to Vassa that all his shadows heard were a faint humming noise, like a mosquito buzzing in his ear.

Even with Vassa out of the room, the buzzing lingered. He wished he could have gone with them (not only did he wish to keep Elain in his sight while he still could, but he had no desire to spend quality time with Lucien and Jurian, both of which were arguably two of his least favorite beings. If only Eris was here to complete the motley trio).

Lucien had yet to speak to him directly since his arrival. Azriel knew it was because of his parting remarks the week before -- his warning. About what he’d do to Lucien if the male ever forced Elain to do something she didn’t want to do. He didn’t regret it, not in the slightest. But sitting across from Lucien’s murderous glower wasn’t exactly an enjoyable experience. He’d rather do something more pleasant, like stick toothpicks under his nails.

And Jurian was, if possible, even worse. The human never. Shut. Up. He talked constantly, about any and every thing that popped into his head, it seemed.

Now I feel even worse about leaving Elain here. His cold heart hardened a little more at the thought.

The doors swung open and Vassa sashayed into the dining room, Elain following.

It took all his effort to not let his mouth drop as he took in the middle Archeron sister. She was wearing a silver gown with material so smooth and sleek it looked liquid. The dress clung to her small chest and the generous curves of her rear like a second skin, but she still somehow looked innocent, intoxicatingly so. Her golden-brown hair was piled into an elegant but simple updo at the top of her head, a few curls hanging loosely around her angelic face.

A heaviness settled in his chest as his eyes zeroed in on her exposed neck. It seemed the greatest tragedy of his life: he’d touched her there, once.

Elain’s eyes flitted up and locked with his, and time ceased to exist, for a brief moment. That was all he and Elain were allowed to have. Fleeting moments, as vital as they were destructive.

“Sorry we’re late,” Vassa said airily. She was wearing a new dress as well, Azriel suddenly noticed. He frowned. Usually his shadows would have told him that the two females had ventured to their respective quarters to change. Without his shadows abilities working, he felt impaired.

The two females settled themselves into chairs. Azriel tried to control his disappointment when Vassa took the empty chair to his left, leaving Elain to sit between Lucien and Jurian.

“How was your afternoon?” Lucien asked Elain.

Bitterness filled his chest at the gentle, cautious way he spoke to her, like he was approaching a timid animal. She was not a creature to be coddled and comforted. She was a lethal and lovely force of nature.

“It was delightful. How was yours?” She kept her voice neutral, not engaging but not dismissive. His stomach dropped at the light that appeared in Lucien’s eyes.

“It was pleasant, as well. I’m glad you enjoyed your afternoon. I hope you know how excited I...how excited Vassa has been to have you here.”

Ignoring his stumble, Elain smiled tightly and nodded once before piling green beans onto her plate. Her eyes flashed up to Azriel; he was watching her closely, but could see nothing in her expression besides discomfort. Good. Without it, she would seem suspicious to the others.

But then Elain began asking Lucien and Jurian a few questions; it was casual, polite conversation, but still: she was initiating it. He stabbed his chicken angrily with his fork, trying to ignore her light, lilting voice, trying to pretend the sound didn’t make his skin tingle.

“Are you alright?” Vassa asked him. The mortal queen was watching him curiously.

“Yes,” Azriel responded shortly.

Vassa arched an eyebrow. “You’re quite prickly, you know.”

Azriel frowned. “And you’re quite nosy.”

Across the table, Elain froze with a forkful of beans halfway to her mouth, dark eyes flashing in warning. Azriel almost chuckled at her shock. But then Vassa laughed, an uninhibited, ringing sound. “Yes,” She agreed.

“So I’m curious,” Vassa began, swirling her wine glass and taking a deep sip before continuing, “What is your stake in all of this?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

Vassa nodded across the table to Elain, who had returned to her conversation with the other two males. “You’re helping her train. Why?”

Azriel stiffened. “My High Lord and Lady asked me to. As a member of the Night Court, it is my duty and my honor to serve their wishes to the best of my ability.”

“Oh, please,” Vassa said loudly, and Azriel saw the others glance curiously at her before continuing their conversation. “Don’t feed that bullshit to a Queen. I may not know you, but I know of you, and reputation eclipses familiarity, much of the time. You don’t do anything you don’t want to do. So, I’ll ask again...what is your stake in all of this?”

You don’t do anything you don’t want to do. How he wished that was true. But he kept his face as unreadable as ever as he said, “Helping her means helping you, and that means helping my Court. I am sorry that my answer is not the one you were looking for.”

“So you and Elain aren’t close? That’s rather surprising. Aren’t both of your alleged brothers mated to her sisters? And you’re quite protective over her.”

His wings tensed. This mortal woman was certainly tenacious. And observant. “I wouldn’t say we are particularly close,” Azriel said. Anymore, he thought. “But I would consider her...a friend.” He finished.

Vassa surveyed him for a moment, her piercing blue eyes nearly scorching in their intensity. Azriel held her gaze. Whatever Vassa found, she seemed to accept, as she turned back to the others.

“She certainly is an easy person to be friends with,” Vassa said, watching Elain with a small smile on her face. And that’s how easy it was for Azriel to see that, like everyone who’d ever met the middle Archeron sister, the mortal queen had fallen under Elain’s spell.

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Azriel replied, “Yes. She is.”

***

After dinner, Elain and Azriel left the others for her training session. Elain had asked if they could hold the sessions in the conservatory - “It just makes me feel safer and more in control of myself, to be in such a beautiful place,” Elain said to Vassa at dinner. The queen had lit up at Elain’s request, telling her the room was hers as long as she needed it.

So that’s how Az found himself in the manor’s conservatory with Elain. It was dark outside, now, but the moon shone so brightly that they had no trouble seeing.

She sat across from him on a bench in the very center of the cavernous atrium, her wide brown eyes surveying the peaceful scene in front of her.

“This is a nice place,” Azriel commented lamely.

This is a nice place?! He could not be more awkward if he tried.

But of course Elain did not tease him. Not like she used to. Because they weren’t friends anymore.

Instead, she said, “It is, isn’t it? I also figured it would be difficult for anyone to overhear us here.”

Az grinned. “Smart,” he said truthfully.

Shrugging, Elain said with a slight sparkle in her eye, “It’s been known to happen.” There . Even if it was faint...that little piece of her that treated him with amusement and (dare he say it?) affection still existed.

“You did well today,” He told her, leaning back and stretching out his long legs.

“It was easier than I thought,” Elain said. “To pretend...or at least to hide. I don’t know if that makes me happy or not.”

He cocked his head. “Why wouldn’t that make you happy?”

She looked at him. “It feels an awful lot like lying. I don’t want to be a liar.”

Azriel found he did not know what to say to that.

“I do think the conservatory will help with my training,” Elain mused, turning her gaze up to the wide windows. The moon gleamed through the glass panes like a beacon. “The peaceful darkness...the quiet contentment...the vibrant life you can feel ...all of it makes me feel more in control of myself. More powerful, even.” She smoothed down the front of her gown. “It was very kind of Vassa to offer this room up to us.”

“She thinks very highly of you.”

“I know.” Elain’s voice was tired, resigned. “I could easily see myself becoming friends with her. But I know that would only complicate my mission.”

“Perhaps. It’s all about finding a balance. You can respect her, like her even, share confidences and stories and experiences...but it’s true you need to stay objective. Get close to Vassa - but not too close. The same goes for both Jurian and...and Lucien.” The name tasted like vinegar in his mouth, but he forced himself to say it.

Elain was quiet for a long moment, lost in her thoughts. “Shall we begin training?” She asked after a while.

“One other thing first.” Straightening up and fully turning his body to face Elain, he waited until she met his gaze. Trepidation filled her brown eyes as she noticed his solemn intensity.

“What?” She asked slowly.

“Are you ready to talk about how your hands glowed at dinner last night?”

#elriel fic #elriel #pro elain archeron #pro elain #azriel x elain #elain archeron #elain x azriel #azriel #nessian #feysand #acotar #post acosf #mostly canon

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rhysismydaddy · 3 years

Text

Casual Ruin Pt. 1 (Elriel)

Elain’s part of the Damnation Series

Hello, and welcome to an unapologetically kinky, 90% smut / 10% plot mafia fic for Elriel.

Blanket trigger warning for ALL parts (although the first is very vanilla and sweet): this is for adults and contains both sex and violence. If you are not a fan of those two things, or the mild combination of them, scroll along. It contains things that might be triggering. It’s a dark romance.

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“Wake up, dolce mia.”

The words are a soft, accented whisper pressed against my ear during the darkest part of the night, followed by sinful lips pressing a kiss to my skin that jerks me out of my sleep.

Despite the rush of heat that floods my system, I keep my eyes closed and groan, pushing his face away. My body’s exhausted, and despite wanting nothing more than to wake up and let him make me even more tired, I need sleep.

A rough chuckle escapes him, but he’s apparently inhuman, doesn’t need sleep, and isn’t giving up this easily.

Dodging my weak attempts to push him away, he drags his mouth down the column of my throat, stopping to suck and nibble on parts that are especially interesting.

A soft sigh escapes my lips as he finds the junction between my shoulder and throat, but I still keep my eyes closed.

The cold metal of his chain raises goosebumps as it glints down the valley between my breasts, and his mouth follows, almost like he’s unable to help it.

He’s all over me, scent surrounding me and making it impossible to truly fall back asleep, no matter how tired I am.

He’s put my body through every possible sexual position known to man tonight, somehow pulling every ounce of pleasure from me.

But, like always, I want more.

He’s a drug, more potent than anything on the market, and I’ve come to crave the feel of him against me in the three weeks I’ve known him.

“Wake up, bellisima,” he murmurs, rough voice like a song that ignites a fire in my blood.

I shake my head, and he smiles against me. I regret not opening my eyes a little, because while nothing about him is unattractive, his smile is something I could never get enough of and I hate missing it.

Calloused, scared hands ghost down my body almost reverently, and then he’s kissing a trail across my ribs, over my stomach, and up to my breasts.

His tongue swirls around the peak of one, hand coming to mold the other to his touch, and I use every ounce of willpower to say still.

I’m proud to say I make it a full two minutes before I can’t take anymore and give in. “Fine. I’m awake.”

I say it as if it’s a struggle to be awoken by him and not the best part of my day.

My eyes open to find his, the warm hazel taking my breath away like always.

He gives me a slow smile, coming down to press a kiss to my lips. He tugs on the lower one with his teeth, then smooths the small hurt with his tongue.

I can’t help the small whimper that slips out as his tongue meets mine, because I’m honestly powerless to the way he kisses me.

Slow and deep and perfectly controlled, but also possessive and a little desperate. He’s a selfish kisser; he kisses me exactly how he wants, turning my head just right, nipping my lips when he wants, only breaking when I’m breathless.

A palm goes to my thigh, guiding it around his trim hips, then he’s grinding against me, letting me feel him against me, hard and ready and so tempting my eyes cross.

I resist the urge to arch up into him long enough to tease, “Egoisto bastardo.” Selfish bastard.

“Egoista,” he corrects, smirking.

I roll my eyes, caring less about adjectives and more about the feel of his hands on my hips. I roll my hips slightly, watching as the hazel of his eyes darkens to black.

“Was there a reason you woke me up?” I ask innocently, reaching between us and palming him in a blatant attempt to drive him half as crazy as he does me.

He nods and pushes into my palm. My hand instinctively wraps around him, and I guide him to the apex of my thighs, running the head of him against me in a way that makes us both shudder.

He pushes my head to the side with his chin, then runs his mouth up the column of my throat, stubble making goose bumps rise in his wake. His teeth nip at my skin before he whispers roughly, “I want to fuck you, Elain. I want to feel you around me, hear you call out my name, watch as you come on my cock. So stop teasing me and let me make give us both what we want.”

I don’t respond with words, being completely unable to find them. I just tilt my hips and slip him inside me, watching as the brown in his eyes fades to black.

Jaw tight, he pushes into me fully, causing me to arch up into him. My legs go around his waist, and he hums in satisfaction.

He pulls out the tiniest amount, then thrusts back in harder, pulling a moan from my throat. “You feel so good,” he praises, teeth finding my earlobe and biting down softly. I moan his name, my body on fire for him, and he murmurs, “I love the way you say my name.”

He pulls out all the way, then slams back inside me so hard I feel the reverberations in my hip bones. “But I want to hear you scream it.”

My head rolls back against the mattress, and I can hardly breathe around the feel of him inside me, filling me so perfectly. Somehow I’m still not used to it, not used to how it somehow feels so right.

My breasts bounce as he works me, sensitive nipples brushing against his chest with every thrust. His head raises and his eyes drop, watching.

“Minchia,” he curses, reaching up to palm my one roughly. “Cosi bella.”

If he keeps talking in that husky, deep voice, I won’t last another two minutes. I’m already shaking, but I push the impending release away, desperate to make this last as long as possible.

He moves faster, hands sliding down to my backside to lift me up exactly how he wants. His pelvic bone brushes against my clit every time our hips collide, and it’s almost too much. A low moan escapes me as he kisses my neck, sucking the skin hard enough to leave a mark.

His hands tighten on my ass, and then his palm is connecting with my skin with just the right amount of pressure. I cry out, arms wrapping around his shoulders as I bury my face in his neck.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” he growls, even though it’s obvious I did.

I nod, mouth too preoccupied with kissing his jaw to reply.

Like always, he gives me exactly what I want, using the other hand this time to spank me. The sharp sting pushes me over the edge, and I yell his name yet again as I come.

He doesn’t come with me, just releases my ass to wrap one arm around my shoulders to keep me in place as he takes his own pleasure. His hips are harsh against mine, and I know I’ll be sore tomorrow, but I take everything he gives me and want even more.

My nails rake down his back, and he mutters a curse against my lips as he kisses me. His tongue meets mine, and I can’t stop myself from sucking on it, completely lost in him.

“Fuck, Elain,” he growls, bracing a hand on the headboard I hadn’t realized was so close. His fingers are tight on my shoulder, lips brutal against mine, thrusts so hard I’m practically screaming.

But it isn’t any of that that makes release find me again.

It’s him groaning, “Ti senti cosi bene,” then leaning down to press the rough translation to my ear.

I come apart entirely, and it’s a miracle his lips stifle the helpless noises I make, otherwise I’d wake up my cranky old neighbor. Again.

I tremble beneath him as his movements get a little sloppy, then still entirely.

He kisses my again as he comes, and it’s a rough, almost bruising sort of kiss that makes me want to do it all over again.

He eventually slows to a stop, looking down at me with enough heat in his eyes I melt.

“Fatto per me,” he whispers, running a knuckle over the curve of my cheek.

My sluggish brain works overtime to figure out what he said, eventually finding the translation.

Made for me.

~Three weeks ago~

The opera house is unsurprisingly packed, opening night drawing in over two hundred well-dressed patrons.

I had to pull together three months rent for the ticket alone, a ridiculous expense I’d normally never allow myself, but coming here has been on my bucket list for over nine years, ever since I first heard Cecilia Bartoli on a friend’s radio.

I pinched pennies, picked up extra shifts, and only ate Ramen for the month leading up to my trip here--a real crime, considering my profession--so I could come.

And even though I broke out in a cold sweat from the expense of this night, I have to say it’s already worth it. I have a huge smile on my face as I make my way through the lobby, stopping to look at the program and take in the portraits of the performers.

By the time I go to enter the auditorium, there are only a few people left in the lobby. I want to use the restroom before the show starts, so I hurry up the stairs to the upper floor to look for it.

Except it’s nowhere to be found.

I search down every hallway, the stress of missing the show forcing me to almost jog. A man in a red jacket steps into the hall right when I’m starting to despair, and he turns to me and raises a brow.

“Excuse me... where’s the restroom?” I ask in the most atrociously broken Italian he’s probably ever heard.

His eyes skate over me from head to toe, then he says something back, way too quickly for me to decipher.

I assume he’s asking if I have a ticket, so I hold up the crumpled paper I’ve been guarding for months and smile.

He gives me a strange look, extending an arm and gesturing for me to follow. I nod, and we start off down the corridor, stopping in front of a plain white door.

“This is the restroom?” I ask, not understanding why it isn’t labeled or anything.

He mumbles something I can’t hear, seems to hurry me on, then opens the door and practically shoves me inside.

And straight into a man’s chest.

Which makes this the strangest women’s room I’ve ever ventured into.

He steadies me with two hands on my shoulders, and somehow I know, before I even look, that this man will be devastatingly handsome.

Too curious not to, I look up. And up, and up some more.

And I realize I was both right and wrong, because the man before me is devastatingly handsome, but he’s also so much more, to the point where those words aren’t enough to describe him.

He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

It’s a classic sort of look, one that will never go out of style and never be considered anything but perfect.

Hazel eyes rimmed in dark black eyelashes meet mine, narrowed at the edges with amusement. His full, all too kissable lips are turned up in a smirk and surrounded by a day’s worth of stubble I know would scratch at the fingers I’m tempted to run over it.

He’s so tall my neck starts to cramp, but I’m a deer in the headlights, unable to so much as blink.

He’s monochromatically dressed in black, from his suit jacket, shirt, slacks, and polished shoes. We’re still pressed against each other, and the differences between us couldn’t be more obvious.

He’s sin incarnate, the perfect picture of a fallen angel, and I’m the naiive girl dressed in lilac and unable to stop blushing.

His dark hair slips over his forehead as he leans his face further to mine, and for a strange second, I think he’s going to kiss me, but then he takes a step back and regards me with assessing eyes.

“Stai bene?”

The sound of his voice--a cool, deep balm that soothes my nerves--throws me for a second, but even my American self can understand that simple question. I nod.

His lips twitch. “Sei sicuro?” Are you sure?

I nod again.

“Tu parli?” Do you speak?

My eyes narrow a little at the teasing note in his voice. “Si.”

“Cosa stai facendo qui?”

My knowledge of Italian is limited to the Duolingo I’ve been cramming in the last couple of months, so I tell him I don’t understand.

He waves a hand around us, his eyes growing a shade darker as he prowls toward me. He says something in a low voice, the tenor in his voice giving me goosebumps.

“It was an accident! I was looking for the restroom,” I blurt when he takes another step toward me.

He stops. Understanding dawns. A smile breaks lose that threatens my sanity with its beauty.

“You’re American,” he says in surprisingly perfect English.

It isn’t a question, but I answer anyway. “I am.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m at the opera,” I state stupidly.

His lips tip upward, and I mentally slap myself for the dumb response. “You are. But what are you doing here?”

Oh. For the first time since I was shoved in here, I take a look around. I’m in one of the dark boxes on the upper floor of the opera house, the ones usually reserved for royalty or billionaires or people willing to spend an entire paycheck. There are two seats, a table in between them, and a perfect view of the stage from the slight balcony.

I gasp when I realize the lights are dim, meaning the show has either started or is about to. “Have I missed anything?”

“No. Now answer the question.”

God, he’s relentless. I sigh and explain, “I was looking for the bathroom, and a very unhelpful attendant pushed me in here instead.”

He tilts his head, eyes narrowed. Like he’s trying to tell if I’m being serious or something. Honestly, who would lie about going to the bathroom?

“Listen, Mr...” I realize I don’t know his name, so I just keep talking. “I don’t know why you think I’d lie and sneak in here, but I’m not, and I didn’t. And I don’t want to miss anything, so I’ll just head down to my regular seat and get out of your hair.”

With one last look at him, I make my way to the door. Only to be stopped by a large hand shooting out and a softly murmured, “Stay.”

I start to deny that knee-weakening request, start to tell him it would be crazy to sit here alone with a stranger. But then a woman steps onto the stage, and everything changes.

“Oh my God, it’s her,” I whisper, practically shoving him out of the way as I hurry over to the balcony.

Cecilia Bartoli’s on the stage, wearing an elaborate gown, dripping with diamonds and confidence, effortlessly belting out lyrics I’m too dazed to even try to understand.

For a moment, I’m so lost in the music I don’t notice when a warm hand lands on my elbow and guides me to the chair behind me. I sink down, eyes still trained on the stage.

I’ve listened to her on my phone or the radio for so long that it’s surreal to hear her live.

I’m breathless by the time the song ends, and it’s when I hear a deep breath I remember I’m not alone. “Sorry. I... I’m a big fan of hers.”

He presses a button on the table I hadn’t noticed and an usher immediately brings in a fresh glass of champagne and a tumblr full of amber liquid. “No apology is necessary. I’ve never met an American fond of Italian opera; it’s refreshing to meet someone with good taste. I’m surprised you don’t speak Italian, though, given your passion.”

“You don’t have to understand what someone’s saying to understand what they’re feeling,” I point out.

He grins like I’ve said the right answer to a difficult question. “True.”

The next song starts, a backup singer effortlessly building he crowd’s energy, and my gaze is torn between the man beside me and the stage. I want to stare at him and listen to him speak in that strangely sexy voice, but I’ve also been looking forward to this show for almost a year.

“I’d like to propose a deal,” he says, surprising me.

My eyebrows quirk at the practiced way he said that, and I debate if this is a good idea. Curiosity wins in the end. “A deal?”

“I leave you alone and stop interrupting your experience, and you agree to have a drink with me after the show’s over.”

I purse my lips to give the appearance of being deep in thought. “I could always just leave and sit in my own seat.”

He nods. “You could. But you won’t.”

“Awfully confident, aren’t you?” He should be.

He smiles, hazel eyes on mine as he takes a slow sip of his drink. For some reason, my stomach ties itself in knots and my thighs press together at the look in his eyes. He smirks like he knows what happened, and says, “You don’t want to leave. In the five minutes you’ve been here, you haven’t stopped blushing. And let’s not forget the spell of speechlessness.”

I blush again, making him chuckle.

Then I murmur, “Fine. Deal.”

He takes my hand in his, shaking once and sealing it in metaphorical stone.

“Enjoy the show.”

Cecilia starts singing again before I can respond, and I become lost once again to the vibrato of her voice.

I don’t like all opera, and I don’t like all opera singers, but there’s something about her that makes you feel every single thing she’s thinking about while singing. It’s the rawest form of art I’ve ever experienced, and it’s impossible to look away while she tells her story.

That doesn’t mean I’m not overly aware of the man next to me.

His eyes are on me the entire time mine are on the stage, acting like I’m more interesting to watch than the show he undoubtedly paid thousands of dollars to see. His gaze burns a hole into the side of my face, but I can’t be bothered to care because I just can’t believe I’m here.

The last song before intermission concludes, leaving the audience in suspense of what happens next, and I find I’m almost breathless as I watch the curtain sweep closed dramatically.

A condition that does the opposite of improve when the man beside me says softly, “You’re beautiful, you know.”

“You’re charming,” I say back, my skin warming like it always does with compliments.

He grins like that’s amusing.

“What’s your name?” he asks, facing me and crossing his long legs. I do the same, leaving less than an inch between our knees.

“Elain.”

“Elain,” he repeats, drawing the syllables out in a way that makes me bite into my lower lip.

“What’s yours?”

He tilts his head, almost in preparation, as he answers, “My name is Azriel Pacino.”

He says it with finality, like he’s a person of importance and is used to being treated accordingly. I mean, it makes sense, considering the private booth we’re sitting in and the instantaneous service the waiter brought our drinks with.

I realize something I’d pushed to the back of my mind. “Why did the man from before bring me in here? He seemed like he was nervous or late or something.”

“He was,” he chuckles. “He was supposed to bring me my companion for the evening, and he was late.”

My jaw snaps shut. “Oh. So... you’re still waiting for her, then?”

At this point, she was very rudely late, but that’s absolutely none of my business.

He tilts his head and smiles, the sight too much for me and causing me to take a long swallow of champagne. “Are you asking if I’m single, Elain?”

My mouth opens and closes a few times to his amusement, but I end up whispering, “Yes.”

“I wouldn’t be sitting here with you if I wasn’t.”

I feel a strange sense of relief, but I don’t have time to read into it before the curtains sweep back open and the lights dim, meaning the show’s about to start.

More singers are with Cecilia now, their voices joining to create a sound so moving, I have to bite my lip to hold back the tears. Which grows harder as the scenes progress, and it becomes obvious this story will end in a tragedy.

By the end, I’m helpless. My eyes are watering, and I have a death grip on the arm of the seat I’ve all but forgotten I’m sitting in. The last song is the one that breaks the dam, and when the performers bow and the lights come back on, my cheeks are damp.

I wipe them with the backs of my hands, then stand and clap so hard my palms hurt.

Taking another large sip of champagne to calm myself, I turn back to Azriel, finding him watching me once again. I normally would feel a little guilty about completely ignoring a man for over an hour, but hey, we have a deal.

“Was it everything you thought it’d be?”

“So much more,” I answer, laughing incredulously. “I’ve wanted to see her perform for years.”

A thoughtful look crosses his face, then he stands with fluid grace I could never hope to have and extends a hand. “Come with me.”

I remember our deal. “To get a drink?”

He shakes his head but offers no other explanation, and even though it might be a bad idea, I accept it.

Azriel pulls me from the booth and leads me down the hallway I ran through earlier, and I notice the people on this floor give him a wide birth, looking at him with round eyes.

Maybe he’s famous here or something.

I shrug it off, deciding to live in the moment as his arm goes around me and his palm lands on my waist.

We come to a stop at an elevator I hadn’t noticed, and once inside, he presses B instead of the button for the lobby.

I’m confused as to why until the door opens and I see a flurry of people bustling back and forth, carrying props and costumes and other important stuff.

My eyes shoot to Azriel’s, but he stays silent, just guiding me from the lift and down a narrow hallway.

He knocks twice on a door, then opens it and tugs me inside.

When I glance around him to see what the surprise is, I almost hit the floor.

Cecilia Bartoli sits on a plush sofa, holding a martini and looking so beautiful and classy I almost start crying all over again.

She looks up at us and raises an eyebrow, and I’m about to... I don’t know, apologize for barging in unannounced or something, when Azriel speaks.

It’s in Italian, so I can’t be sure what he’s saying, but then he tilts his head towards me and says simply, “Elain.”

She gets to her feet and comes toward us, bypassing him to grab my shoulders and kiss my cheeks. “Buona sera, Elain.”

I take a shaky breath, half convinced I passed out and this is all some elaborate dream. “Buona sera.”

“Did you enjoy the show?” she asks in heavily accented English, smiling at me kindly.

“Oh, my goodness, yes. It was the most moving thing I’ve ever seen. I’m a huge fan of yours. I bought my ticket and have looked forward to this for months, and it was perfect,” I babble, not able to shut up in her presence.

“Gazie.” Her eyes shoot to the man beside me, and she asks kindly, “Would you like an autograph, dear?”

My mouth drops open, because I have to be dreaming. “I don’t want to trouble you.”

She waves a hand, grabs a program from tonight off the dressing table nearest us, and signs, “Elain, It was lovely to meet you. Cecilia.”

Then she hands it to me, not possibly knowing how much it means, and says, “Come back anytime.”

I nod overzealously, too stunned by the events that have gone down in the last ten minutes to say anything witty besides, “Thank you so much. It was so wonderful to meet you.”

She kisses my cheeks again, nods to Azriel, then moves back toward the couch. He says something else that has her rolling her eyes, but he pulls me from the room before I can try and decipher it.

As soon as it shuts behind us, I turn and smack his shoulder.

He looks adorably confused, but I’m on an adrenaline high and don’t stop to appreciate the expression.

“I cannot believe you didn’t tell me you know her! Or that that’s where you were taking me! I could’ve... I don’t know, fixed my hair or something!”

Smiling, he smooths a hand over the slightly curled locks resting on my shoulder and shakes his head. “She’s an old friend of mine. It’s why I came. And you look perfect.”

I ignore the tingly sensation that statement gives me. “You’re friends with Cecilia Bartoli.”

I say it as a statement, but it still sounds ridiculous.

He shrugs. Shrugs.

I shake my head in bewilderment, not knowing what else to do, and he chuckles. “Come with me”

I do.

He leads me upstairs and outside, then down the Sicilian streets until we find a beautiful, quiet bar close to where I’m staying. It’s candlelit and romantic and this entire night sounds like a fairytale.

We take one of the many abandoned booths and order, then he leans back, drapes a long arm over the back of the booth, and looks at me like he’s content to do just that all night long.

“Why are you in Sicily?” he finally asks as our drinks are being set in front of us.

I take a sip of wine and respond, “I start at the Culinary Institute on Monday.”

Two days from now, and I could hardly freaking wait.

“You must be a talented chef, then. That’s one of the most prestigious schools in the world.”

“I guess. What about you?” I ask, desperate to talk about him instead of me. “What do you do for a living?”

He pauses, takes a drink. “I’m in security.”

That would explain the fact he could blend in at a boxing match or a board meeting.

“How is your English so good, by the way?”

Another pause, this one longer than the one before. “I lived in Chicago for a while.” I’m about to ask why he moved, or maybe why his expression got darker when I asked him that when he beats me to it. “How long does the program last?”

It’s my turn to pause and stall with a sip. “Just the summer.”

He nods, taking that in stride, even though it feels much more dramatic to me. Of course I’d meet someone handsome and kind and interesting when I’m only in town for three months, two weeks, and six days.

Suddenly, I’m worried he won’t want to continue this date, knowing it’s all but pointless, considering I’m not here permanently.

“Stop thinking what you’re thinking, Elain.”

I look back up to find him studying me, hazel eyes serious. “You don’t know what I’m thinking.”

He reaches over and taps my bottom lip. “I know you’re frowning. And you’re beautiful when you frown, caro, but I much prefer your smile. So stop worrying about it and just enjoy the moment.”

“Okay,” I agree, vowing to do exactly that.

“Okay,” he parrots, taking another sip of his drink and tilting his head. “Why Cecilia Bartoli?”

I take a deep breath and try to think about how to phrase this. “My mom died when I was younger, and I lost my dad when I was fifteen. It hit me hard, and I couldn’t find the will to live, much less smile. And then one day, I was sitting outside the restaurant I was waitressing at, and our chef played a song by her.”

“And it was just... one of those life changing moments I’ll never forget. Her music got me through the hardest part of my life, and I’ve grown to appreciate it even more over the years.”

He smiles sadly. “Thank you for telling me that.”

I shrug, once again a little uncomfortable. “You’re easy to talk to.”

“So are you. I want to get to know you.”

We spend the next to hours talking.

We talk until the place is empty and I’m sure the owner is ruing the day we were born, but I can’t bring myself to stop. His dry commentary makes me laugh, his occasional smile makes my knees weak, and the way he looks at me like I’m the only woman in the world makes my heart pound.

The music is still playing, even though the bartender is nowhere to be found, and since I’ve had pretty much the best night of my life and am just tipsy enough to be bold, I stand and offer my hand.

“Dance with me, please.”

His lips twitch, even as he says, “I don’t dance.”

I frown, and his eyes narrow. “Well, if you want me smiling and happy, I suggest you change your policy.”

He snorts but gives in, sliding from the booth and taking me in his arms gently. One of his palms is cradling mine, the other is on the dip of my spine, and for a moment, we simply sway to the crackly sounds coming from the old stereo.

We dance through the tables, and he turns out to be much better than I expected, twirling me and leading me effortlessly. Or maybe that’s just him.

He’s obviously a born leader, someone who’s always in control, and it’s refreshing to be with someone confident but not overbearing.

My head rests against his chest, and the steady beat of his heart soothes an ache in my soul I never realized I had. “You smell good,” I tell him, very matter-of-factly.

It’s a weird thing to say, but I kind of can’t help it.

He smells like smoke and spices, the combination so addictive it’s all I can think about as we move together.

The hand on my back moves to the back of my head, and it quickly shifts from dancing to being held in his arms. We’re still swaying, but it’s more of a hug, both of us simply enjoying the feeling of the other against us.

His hand glides through my hair, and it feels so good I close my eyes.

I try telling myself I’ve known him a handful of hours, but it’s no good. He’s somehow transitioned from a stranger to someone I’ve known for years, someone I’m comfortable around.

So when he pulls back and mumbles, “I want to kiss you,” against my ear, I let him.

And when he walks me to the townhouse I’m renting, kisses me slowly, and gives me a business card with his number on it, I promise to call.

____________________________

Part 2

@perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @highqueenofelfhame @ireallyshouldsleeprn @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace @elorcan-trash @emikadreams @swankii-art-teacher @biggestwingspan-az

#elriel #elriel fanfiction #elain archeron #elain x azriel #acotar #acomaf #acofas #acosf #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury

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enchantmentandshadows · 3 years

Text

Elriel Month | Day 3: Spies At Work

Word Count: 3739

Content Warning: VIOLENCE / INJURY

Theme: Fluff, Hurt / Comfort

Song Suggestion: DANCING AFTER DEATH(STRIPPED) - MATT MAESON

He gave her a squeeze and sighed. “I would take a hundred ash arrows to keep you safe, El.”

“And I’ll rewrite as many futures as I have to to make sure that doesn’t happen, Az.” She slid her arms around him carefully, hugging him gently.

Elain walked with Azriel, the disappointment clear on her face after Nesta had turned her away again. Azriel hated to see her like this, but he never interfered or tried to talk her out of visiting. The Archeron sisters had their own ways of dealing with things and he was certain that his interference was neither welcome or necessary.

“Thank you for bringing me anyway.” Elain said, looking over at him and giving him a halfhearted smile. “Sorry I wasted your time.”

Azriel shook his head. “It wasn’t a waste of time, El. She knows that you came here, that you still want to see her and that you love her. She knows you haven’t given up on her, no matter what she tries to tell herself and that means something even if she can’t admit it to you or to herself right now.”

Elain looked over at him and smiled. “Y’know, for a man of few words, you always manage to say just the right thing.”

He smiled. “Thanks, centuries around Cassian makes one keenly aware of what sort of words end in violence. I try to avoid that when I can.”

She laughed. “Poor Cassian, I hope she isn’t being too hard on him. He may be tough, but he isn’t some unfeeling husk.”

Azriel nodded. “I can promise you that they are evenly matched. Cassian will be fine, and so will Nesta, you’ll see. I’ve seen her training, she’s learning to channel her energy differently. She won’t change overnight, but the spark is there, she wants it.”

Elain nodded, looking thoughtful and hopeful. “If you say so, then I believe it.” She looked around. “It’s nice here…quiet.”

Azriel just hummed, he hated coming here but he would bring Elain any time she wanted to come. “It has its moments.” He finally conceded.

“Emerie has a shop just ahead, I think you might enjoy having a look before we head back.”

“Alright.” Elain nodded, walking with him, keeping her eyes ahead even as she noticed a few of the Illyrian males looking their way. She knew how they felt about Azriel and was sure that neither of them were welcome there. Azriel led her to the very end of the row of shops.

“I have something to pickup, but I won’t be long, have a look around.” He said, fidgeting with a music box, leaving it to play while she browsed. Elain looked around while the calming melody played, Azriel’s voice never far away.

“Are you the witch’s sister?” a voice asked. Elain turned to find a tall Illyrian before her. He wasn't nearly as big as Azriel or Cassian but he was certainly bigger than she was. “You should take her with you when you leave.”

Elain sighed, shaking her head. “My sister is not a witch, but she is the King Slayer and...and she is deserving of your respect. She’ll leave when she's ready.”

He sneered and opened his mouth to respond when Elain heard heavy footsteps behind her and felt Azriel’s hand on her shoulder. “Problem here?” He leveled a glare at the Illyrian who returned it, but retreated, simply saying, “No problem here, bastard.”

Elain felt Azriel give her shoulder a squeeze. “You alright?” he asked. “I’m all done here if you’re ready to go.”

“I’m ready to go.” She answered, looking up at him. He gave her a sympathetic smile, saying, “Charm wore off already huh? That may be record time.”

“I think all the charm left this place when you did.” She said, following Azriel outside and sliding her arms around his neck as he scooped her into his arms and shot off into the sky, a faint blush on his cheeks at her compliment.

Elain gasped and clung to him tightly, she may never get used to taking off so fast. Azriel chuckled, his warm breath tickling her neck. “Every time.”

Elain laughed, relaxing in his arms as he leveled out and they were smoothly drifting along. “I thought you were picking something up.” She said, noticing he didn’t have anything with him.

“I did, its with the shadows.” He said, raising his brows, practically begging her to ask about it when one of his shadows appeared and swirled around his ear-delivering a message.

“Something wrong?” Elain asked after the shadow disappeared, she'd noticed a change in his mood as he listened.

“We’re watching someone, I received word that they’re on the move. I need someone on the ground there.” Azriel explained, brow furrowed. “I’m going to take you home and then I’ll come back and check it out myself.”

“Come back? Here?” she asked.

He nodded. “It isn’t too far from here.”

“Then why don’t we just go now?” she asked.

“Elain, it could be dangerous.” He said, shaking his head. “If something happened to you-”

“It won’t, I’ll stay out of the way and do exactly what you tell me. Come on, it can be our first mission together. What safer place could there be than with an elite Carynthian level Illyrian warrior? She asked, smiling hopefully up at him.

Azriel chuckled. “Even if things went well, Feyre would kill me and Nesta would resurrect me just to kill me again.”

Elain sighed. “Nesta isn’t even speaking to me right now, so she’ll never know, and Feyre has been spending more and more time at the River House. If she happens to come by and I’m not there, I’ll just explain that I asked you to take me to visit Nesta, she won't know how long we've been gone already.” She explained, smiling up at him. It was at this moment that Azriel realized that Elain Archeron being sneaky and playing spy with him, it stirred something within him and he knew that he was in big trouble, whether her sisters found out or not.

Elain watched his handsome face quietly, knowing that he was calculating every possible risk before he finally relented. “Alright, but only because time is of the essence and because I trust you, Elain, to follow my instructions.”

“I will, I wouldn’t do anything to put you in danger.” She promised, and she meant it.

“I know you wouldn’t, it isn’t you I don’t trust.” He said, looking down at her. If anything happened to her, especially on his watch, he would never forgive himself but all signs pointed to this being a quick job before he returned her home.

“Whats the worst that could happen?” she asked, holding onto him as the wind blew through her hair.

Azriel closed his eyes and sighed. “The more you sound like Cassian, the more I start to think about the worst possible things happening.”

She smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry so much, I know much more than I did before and I'm much better prepared even if something does go wrong.”

He nodded. “You're right, and you’ve been an excellent student. Just don’t forget the most important thing.”

“Stick em with the pointy end?” She teased. “I know, I know...run first and only fight when you have no other choice.”

He nodded. “Exactly, but I’ll be sure to let Cassian know that his advice has stayed with you as well.” He said with a smirk.

Azriel landed them just outside a small village, the shadows guiding him to an inn where he secured a room for he and his mate. Elain blushed at how her heart fluttered when he said it, even if she knew it was a lie, because she had wished for it to be true more times than she could remember. One wish for every star in Velaris by now. The innkeeper looked them over and Elain gave her sweetest smile, hugging Azriel's arm and resting her head on his shoulder.

The innkeeper slid the key over to Azriel and they made their way upstairs and into their room, Azriel pulling Elain closer as they passed a few questionable characters along the way. Az moved to the window, watching the building across the way. “The shadows are with them now, if they move, we’ll know about it. If we’re lucky, they’ll have to leave for food or drink soon and then I can have a look around, maybe get some idea of what they're planning.”

Elain nodded. “Should I keep watch for you?”

“No, the shadows can do that. You just stay here and sit tight.” He glanced over at her and she nodded, excited and anxious.

He chuckled. “You can relax, Elain, you really are like Cassian. I expect we’ll be waiting for some time before anything happens-IF anything happens. Why don’t you sit and read a while?”

“What do you usually do while you’re waiting?” She asked, sorting through her bag and plucking out her book.

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs at the ankles. “Watch, rest, sharpen my weapons.”

She hummed and sank herself into a chair, glancing over the top of her book every now and then to steal glances at him, watching as he sharpened Truth-teller, blushing when she realized he’d stopped and noticed her watching. “Sorry.” She said with a smile.

“Would you like to try your hand at it?” He offered.

Elain shook her head slowly, considering. “I wouldn’t want to damage it.”

“You couldn’t, come on, I promise you won’t break the rare and precious dagger.” He teased and she narrowed her eyes at him. He laughed and waved her over. “You’ve handled it before and it is still in perfect working order, Elain.”

Elain set her book aside and walked over to where Azriel now stood. He handed her the sharpening stone and Truth-teller and Elain felt her whole arm tingle as she held the dagger again. It felt lighter than she remembered, her mind drifting back to that day on the battlefield until Azriel moved behind her, taking her hands in his and her mind snapped back to the present. She could feel his warmth at her back, his strong arms coming around her as his hands covered hers.

Azriel wondered what the hell he'd been thinking as he gently guided her soft hands, helping her slide the dagger along the stone, stroke after stroke until she did it on her own and his hands fell away from hers. He watched her continue, not able to make himself step back and away from her, her scent of jasmine and honey keeping him right where he stood.

Elain cursed herself for not pretending to need help just a little while longer, missing his touch as soon as she'd lost it. She stilled her hands as shadows appeared and swiftly made their way to Azriel, no doubt providing an update for him.

“They’re moving, heading for the pub.” Az said, going back to the window and watching a group of men filter out and head down the road a ways.

Elain nodded and handed Truth-Teller back, watching him as he sheathed it back at his thigh. “Be careful, Az.”

“I will be. Sit tight, I won’t be long, I'm just going to have a quick look and then we can go.” He said, leaving and locking the door behind him, scanning the hallway for enemies before disappearing into the shadows.

Elain moved back to the window to watch, even though she knew he was already in the shadows and likely already searching the room. She craned her neck, trying to see if she could catch him in the window when a blinding pain shot through her side and she fell to her knees. She struggled to move, but the vision held her now and it wouldn’t let her go until it was finished with her. She saw Azriel being dragged out of a room, chains that glowed violet on his wrists. He was struggling and calling out to her as she lay bleeding on the floor. Elain had barely been released when she shot to her feet and stumbled out the door. She flew down the stairs and across the street, rushing upstairs and turning down hallways as if she'd been here before. She burst into the room only to find it empty, starting when Azriel appeared behind her. “Elain, what are you-“

“We have to go now!” She said, the words flying out of her mouth as she gripped his arm. “I had a vision, they’re here for you! Please!” She begged and he didn’t hesitate, putting his arm around her and letting the shadows take them, but not before a dozen ash arrows speared into the room. Azriel snarled, his arms tightening around Elain, shielding her as the shadows closed in and carried them away.

“Azriel? Az?” Elain breathed out, her voice trembling as they both fell to their knees, clinging to one another in the middle of what appeared to be a bedroom.

Azriel groaned and shifted and she could feel how tense he was.

“I’m alright, Elain.” He struggled to say and she didn’t understand why until her hand brushed against one of the arrows sticking out of his back. She gasped and whispered in a shaky voice.

“Do you know where we are? Is it safe here, Az?” She looked up at him, brushing the hair away from his face with her trembling hands.

He nodded weakly. “It’s safe.”

Elain nodded and pulled herself from his arms, choking back a sob as she saw the arrows in his back and side.

“Can you stand? Just try to make it to the bed.” She asked, trying her hardest not to fall apart.

Azriel nodded and she offered herself as support, letting him lean on her, however little help it was. He made it to the bed and let himself collapse onto it with a groan, his massive wings dragging and hanging limply on the wooden floor.

Elain helped move his legs onto the bed and took in his injuries. Five, they had hit him five times, at least they’d missed his wings. Azriel groaned and she was immediately at his side.

“Az, I need to get these arrows out. The ash wood, if it splinters...” she didn’t want to finish. She wasn’t an expert, but she’d suffered through enough dinners with Graysen and his father to know how much damage an ash arrow could do to a fae body.

He nodded, his breathing ragged as Elain moved around the house at lightning speed, collecting supplies to clean and bandage his wounds, rushing back to his bedside where he winced, breaking off the last of the arrows, his hand trembling.

"Here, drink this." she said, holding a small bottle to his lips. He parted his lips and let her tip the contents into his mouth, a tonic to dull the pain.

"Thank you." he said, his eyes full of equal measures of pain and regret.

"Of course, now try to relax." Elain said, moving to unfasten his leathers, being as gentle as possible as she peeled them away, careful not to disturb his wings. She surveyed the damage and Azriel tensed, trying not to express the pain he was feeling, and trying not to panic Elain anymore than she already was. Thankfully the tonic had begun to work its magic and the pain began to dull.

Elain gently cleaned away as much blood as she could with a damp rag before checking on him. “Az? You still with me?” She asked, hating the tremble in her voice.

“Still here.” He said, reaching back to take her hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

Elain squeezed it back. “Just tell me if you need a break, okay?”

“You too.” He said and she could hear the faint smile as he said it.

Elain took a deep breath and clutched the small knife in her trembling hand, waiting for it to steady before she went to work. She felt Azriel tense as she began to remove the first arrow.

“I’m sorry.” She said softly, tears filling her eyes every time she felt him flinch and knew how much pain he must be in. “Talk to me, please? Tell me...tell me about the snowball fight. 200 wins seems very impressive.”

“199...not 200 yet.” He clarified.

“I see...and are you plotting your strategy already?” She asked, listening to his grand battle plans as she removed each arrow one by one and gently washed the blood away.

“You’re kidding. He’s NEVER won?” She asked in shock.

“Not once, but that’s a secret I would never tell.” He mumbled, the blood loss and pain tonic clearly having caught up with him.

“You’re the best at secrets, Az, the best.” She agreed. “Can you sit up?”

Az grumbled but gave a grunt in the affirmative as he pushed himself into a sitting position, his wings finally pulling up off of the floor. Elain carefully washed away any of the remaining blood from his body and went to work bandaging him. Elain blushed as her cheek nearly touched his muscular chest, her arms around him as she passed the bandage around and around until his wounds were neatly wrapped. She scolded herself for thinking about touching his bare chest, his muscular back, those swirling tattoos teasing and tempting her to trace them with her fingertips. This was not the time and-Gods, she had to stop borrowing Nesta's books.

Azriel looked down at her, watching as she concentrated, bringing his hand up to tuck a loose wave behind her ear.

Elain swallowed and looked up at him. “Feeling alright?”

He nodded, eyes closing as her hand brushed his wing.

“Sorry." she whispered. She moved to tie the bandage off and gave him an exhausted smile. “All done. Now you can lie back and rest. Are you thirsty or hungry?” She asked, shifting away from him as she gathered what was left of the supplies and cleaned up.

“No...just feeling weak.” He sighed, watching as she moved around the room. “I’ll be fine in a few hours.”

“Mhm.” She nodded, washing her hands.

“Elain, I’m alright.” he said, feeling the anxiety rolling off of her in waves. "Why don't you come sit for a while."

Elain just shook her head, not trusting herself to speak as she scrubbed his blood from her hands.

“Elain, I’ll get out of this bed.” He threatened.

“Azriel, don’t you dare.” She turned, wiping her face. “I’m fine, you’re the one who is hurt. I'm fine, really. I will be.”

Azriel shifted, making room for her before patting the bed. “Come on, come keep me company.”

Elain dried her hands and sulked back over to the bed, settling next to him, his arm wrapping around her to pull her in close. “I’m gonna be fine, Elain. I promise you.”

“What did they want with you, Az? They were there for you, I saw it...they didn’t want you dead, they wanted to take you.” she whispered and he could see the fear in her eyes.

“The ash arrows say different.” He said with a wince. “Seems like they wanted me dead pretty badly.”

Elain stayed quiet, looking down at her hands, the hands that had been covered with his blood just moments ago.

“Elain?” He pressed. “What did you see? Why do you think they didn’t want me dead?”

“Because they weren't meant for you. The arrows, they were meant for me.” She said, voice shaking. “In my vision, they hit me, not you, I’m sorry, Az, I tried to fix it and I made it worse.” Tears streamed down her cheeks at the thought that she had nearly gotten him killed by trying to change the future she saw in her vision.

It took every ounce of energy that Azriel had left not to return to that town, find those responsible and extinguish their lives at the realization that they had intended to hurt Elain, no doubt to prevent her from spoiling their plans. The secret was out, somehow others now knew that Elain was a seer. Elain’s sniffling broke him from his thoughts and he leaned in, kissing her temple.

“You didn’t make it worse, we’re both safe now, right?” He asked, tipping her chin up.

Elain nodded, sniffling. “Right.”

He gave her a squeeze and sighed. “I would take a hundred ash arrows to keep you safe, El.”

“And I’ll rewrite as many futures as I have to to make sure that doesn’t happen, Az.” She slid her arms around him carefully, hugging him gently.

Azriel held her close, shifting until they were both tucked in tight and snuggled together. “What you did was very brave, Elain, especially knowing that you could have been the one injured.”

Elain shook her head. “I was scared, so scared.”

“You think I don’t get scared?” He chuckled. “You can be brave and still be scared, Elain. Sometimes that fear is what helps you stay alert and alive. Lets both have a little rest.” He suggested. “This place is warded, only Rhys and Cassian know how to get here.” He added, noticing how she tensed at the suggestion.

Elain nodded, letting Azriel tuck her into his side, her head resting on his chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat relaxing her and the soft humming of a familiar tune lulling her to sleep.

Azriel reached out for his shadows, the ash arrows had dulled his power, but he could still feel them enough to know that he would be able to get them back home in the morning. Rhys and Feyre would still be at the River House and no one would be there to ask questions or demand answers.

He rubbed his hand over Elain’s back, feeling her shivering against him. His heart ached and his rage flared at the thought of her being shot with those arrows. She had seen it and rushed in anyway to warn him. His worst fear, the worst possible outcome of their game had almost come to pass. He had been careless and she had almost paid the price for it. He should end things now to keep her safe, he should push her away, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie to her, or hurt her, to ignore the fire they’d been building together for all this time. Eventually, he finally let sleep take him, draping his arm over her, smiling as he felt her arm drape across him in response.

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aelingalathyniusrailme · 3 years

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Lol I love how you’re like “no matter who you are or who you stan y’all are all welcomed here... except elriels of course ☺️💜🥔 like it’s further proof that no matter what character you stan we ALL hate them and have been on the receiving end of their bullying at least once. Not surprising though cause they hate nearly every character who posed even the slightest threat to their ship- lucien and gwyn are the obvious ones, they hated rhys after Acosf (not for the reasons you would think💀 but bc he cocblocked elriel lmao) until they were like “waitttt rhys cockblockign az ✨sparks conflict✨ for our ship guys!!! sorry rhys we like you again!!!” they hate nesta for being rUde to their delicate gardener, they don’t give a shit abt cassian or amren as long as they leave ewriel alone, they used to hate mor for being az’s old love interest and for being on the receiving end of his longing state even up till Acofas, I know for a week they had a thing against vassa and the band of exiles because the prospect of elain befriending them means leaving the night court and az and so they called eluciens racist for preferring vassa over the wraith twins or whatever’s, hey they do like feyre though because apparently she f0reshadowed their ship 💀

Like it’s okay to dislike characters we all have preferences and click with what we click with. But when you see the reasoning from elriels it’s just downright unbelievable and ridiculous??? Like y’all went from hating nesta to liking her all because y’all believe she ships elriel (she doesn’t because she has taste)

Pls ignore this ask this was just a rant from another random anon

say it with me now. elriels are the biggest hypocrites i’ve ever met. and I feel completely justified in saying 98% of acotar opinions I don’t care if you have. we can still be besties. but if ur an elriel, no matter how different or kind you are, I don’t want to interact with you. which sucks because the many many many bad ones have ruined the few good ones.

and sorry it took me so long to respond. I promise i’m not ignoring you I just forgot but I love hearing your guy’s rants.

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good-forthe-weekend · 3 years

Text

a Gwynriel post

All of first. No, I am not interested in ship wars. As long as my dear sweet child spy Az ends up happy, idgaf who he ends up with, and will be happy if he ends up with either Gwyn or Elain, as long as both women get to have their own story told separate from Azriel.

But. I do think that Gwynriel is adorable, and have taken a preference to that ship over Elriel.

Please, for the love of christ, no hate. The block button is my friend. This is a ship drama free zone.

Anywhoozles. Gwynriel.

[Trigger warning: SA]

I mentioned in THIS post that I think it would be neat if we got a romance arc between Gwyn and Az that involved Gwyn wanting to take their relationship slow or focus on herself. I kinda wanted to just elaborate on that.

After seeing a tiktok (and a couple tumblr posts) about people being presumptuous with how they feel Gwyn will for sure feel about being in a relationship/having sex given her SA survivor status, I wanted to clear a couple things up, because my original wording is just vague enough to be a lil problematic.

I don’t want it to seem like I think Gwyn would respond to her assault any particular way. We simply don’t know enough about her to know exactly how she’d respond, and I agree that it’s problematic to assume. When I say that I think it would be cool for her to want to take the relationship slow, I mean the whole ass thing. Emotions too. She’s explicitly stated that she has a lot of trauma to work through outside of the SA. She has survivors guilt, self hatred issues, and doesn’t feel safe outside of the library (which, by the way, I hope we get an exploration of how traumatizing it must have been for Gwyn to be abducted the ONE TIME she decides to leave the library overnight).

We’ve had 2 romantic arcs that are entirely entwined with the respective heroines’ growth past trauma. I think it would be cool and different representation to show someone who says “Hey, I‘m in no shape to be tied to anyone right now. I care about you too much (and respect myself too much) to get into a relationship at this point in my recovery. Can we take this slow and be friends first?”

Not that you can’t be in a relationship if you’re not fully healed from trauma, but both of them have some pretty serious issues that *are* things that would block them from being able to love in a healthy way (ex. Self hatred, Gwyn not being able to live in the present, and Az not feeling worthy of love)

NOTE: I low key want this story to be more YA than NA (at least with regards to spice), to squeeze out a lot of angst from the story, and force the Horniest Bat Boy™ to analyze his feelings from a non-horny POV. Make him really think to himself “Is this lust, or love?” Not saying I don’t want sexual banter/tension, but it definitely for sure doesn‘t need to be Nessian level fae porn

I also think that she would bring up Mor and Elain (because of course this conversation happens AFTER the whole necklace comeuppance happens), and bring up that Az has his own shit to work through before trying to be in a healthy relationship.

“You haven’t been alone in 500 years. Not really. You pined after Morrigan for so long, carried a torch for her for all those years, and the only reason you let her go was to move on to a girl that looks exactly like her, but who wanted you. A girl that you knew you couldn’t have. And now I’m supposed to believe that you’re just....suddenly over it all? That you wanting to race into this relationship is anything more than trying to leverage our status as mates so you don’t have to be alone? I care for you, Azriel, and it’s because I care for you that I can’t jump into a relationship with you just like that, when both of us have healing to do.”

Az probably wouldn’t love being called out like that, but would ultimately agree, or at least acknowledge that he can’t force this. So he agrees. They need to work on themselves. And they set boundaries. Just friends, nothing more. (This is, of course, exactly like Nessian and Feysand saying they want ‘just sex’. It damns them to feeling like they need more)

It would also be so bittersweet if this happened *after* they realize they’re mates. For maximum yearning and angst potential.

Like...imagine. They realize they’re mates fairly early in the story, but decide to stay just friends for now. So we get half to two thirds of a book where they’re friends, trying desperately to resist this bond, and trying to respect each others’ boundaries, trying to heal so they can love each other right. But they’re also fighting against the mating bond, which is exacerbating the sexual tension that was already there.

Think of all the Pride and Prejudice level sexual tension we could get! I think it would be less in your face than Nessian’s tension ever was (shit, they were never subtle), but I think there’s a lot of potential for stolen glances with intense thoughts, glancing touches, hand flexes, aching for each others’ touch, innocent training related touches that are just SUPERCHARGED with intentions, all the good yearn-y stuff. (All inspired by the romance novels that Emerie and Nesta give her)

I also think this could play into THIS theory I had about evil!Elain. Here’s how I picture it:

Az and Gwyn realize they’re mates

After a discussion, they’ve agreed to take things slow and focus on their own respective mental health.

They have agreed to stay close friends for the time being, and to continue to train together (well, in the Valkyrie group), and to try to keep the whole mates thing quiet as they can for now, just so no one bothers them about it

The IC has no sense of boundaries though, and it gets out to them because of course it does. Gwyn probably told Nesta, who accidentally let it slip to Cas, who she threatened within an inch of his life to keep quiet about it. But of course he didn’t. He brought it up to Az, Rhys overheard, which of course means Feyre knows, and long story short, Elain hears about it.

When Elain hears, she FREAKS. Silently, of course, but she freaks nonetheless, which leads down the arc that I detailed in the post I linked above

Outside of that, Gwyn and Az grow.

Az puts in legwork to confront his demons, accept his past (both Mor related, and his family history. A confrontation with his mother would be impactful)

I’m not entirely sure how he would get there (if I figure it out, you KNOW I’ll post about it) but he does come to a point where he knows he wants Gwyn, and for the right reasons. He consciously chooses her.

Not saying he goes from 0 to fully healed, but he does enough legwork to be able to enter a relationship without it being doomed from the start

(This should totally involve him talking to Nesta, the queen of self destructive romantic behaviors, and a development of their budding bromance. He’s always been one of the only people to treat her like a person, not a weapon, a threat, or a nuisance/pest, and she’s always treated him with a softness most don’t afford him. She’s also canonically one of the only people not afraid of him and his shadows. They’re my bro-tp. No I will not be taking criticisms on this)

Gwyn, for her part, has been leaving the library more and more. For daytime outings to visit Nesta, Emerie, Azriel. To train Valkyries (I like to imagine that the Valkyries will get their own camp at some point, or at least space in Velaris to stay/train). To see Velaris.

I think it would be fun if she started to offer singing lessons like Feyre does painting lessons. Maybe she visits Nesta (who started offering dance lessons in Feyre’s newly expanded Velaris Center for Community Art), and Nesta convinced her that it might help her heal if she started to give back to the community and share her passion. (Bonus points if we get a scene where Az stumbles past and hears her singing to her students, and is just entranced by it)

She’s still taking advantage of the services the Library offers (it’s never explicitly stated, but I can only assume therapy is among those services), but she’s coming into her own, and starting to feel more comfortable outside the Library. Starting to heal. Starting to create a life in the present and move beyond her past. She’s starting to believe she deserves a bright future.

She’s also developing quite the friendship with Az. They quickly become best friends, confiding in each other, leaning on each other, joking together, generally being there for each other and bringing out the best in each other.

Az likes to bring Gwyn lunch/dinner in the library sometimes, Gwyn keeps track of when he’s away on spy business, and makes a point to visit him when he comes back, little things like that, that show they care about each other.

Clotho notices all of this, and brings it up to her at some point, telling her that she’s going to have to make the choice to leave at some point, and that she can’t keep straddling the line of living inside and outside the Library.

Gwyn shrugs it off, and continues living her life, thinking that she’ll be able to put it off for a while longer.

Cue Elain kidnapping Azriel.

Gwyn knows she has to go save him, but Clotho tells her that if she does this that she can no longer live in the Library. That she will always be welcome to visit, even to work as a scholar if she so chooses, but this mission will mark the end of the Library being her place of residence.

(I don’t know what reason Clotho would give Gwyn, but on the inside she’s doing this because she knows that Gwyn is ready to fly the coop, and needs that final push to have to acknowledge that she’s ready to leave. Clotho also knows about her and Az being mates, because of course she does. Clotho knows all.)

Of course, Gwyn leaves. She has to save Az. She loves him. He’s her best friend, her love, her soulmate. Her mate. It’s a very emotional moment, and also the perfect metaphor for her being able to leave behind her past to be able to live in the present and chase her future. It’s used to represent Gwyn choosing Azriel, if he’ll have her.

Bonus option: Gwyn takes Truthteller. Grabs the knife on her way to go save him. Doesn’t kill Elain with it, but does kill some guards with it on her way into where Elain has Az holed up.

After she saves Az, when they finally get a moment alone, Gwyn reveals that she needs to find a new home. She no longer lives in the Library.

There’s this tender moment where they bare their souls and basically agree to be together romantically and help each other heal.

They acknowledge that the idea of becoming entirely healed before a relationship isn’t wholly realistic or reasonable, and that they’re able to be together even if they’re still healing a bit.

Gwyn: I think....I think I’m ready to move forward. Catrin wouldn’t want me to keep living in my own shadow. She’d want me to live colorfully again, and be with the person I love. And I totally understand if you’re not there yet! I’m not trying to rush you or anything, I just want you to know that I’m ready for this. Whenever you‘re ready, I’ll be waiting for you with open arms, and an open, healing heart.

Az: *shakes head* I’m not sure I believe I deserve that, Gwyn. But gods if I don’t want to prove myself wrong. I can’t promise I’ll be perfect, I can’t promise that we won’t stumble, or that I won’t retreat into my own mind sometimes. But I can promise that even if I do, I’ll still love you with my whole heart. A heart that’s only ever really belonged to you.

Basically, in my mind, their story would be super tender and sweet, and sexy in a much less brash way than Nessian, or even Feysand. Not that I don’t think there’s potential for these two to get kinky and sexy as FUCK once they’re together, but I just feel like their love story would be different. More innocent (at least in comparison to High Lord and Lady of Shaking The Mountain and Commander General/Goddess of Fucking In Common Areas) and more centered on their respective healing arcs, leading into them falling in love.

Like always, feel free to interact, add, tell me how wrong you think I am, etc. I’m desperate for people to talk to about these books. Just be respectful about it lol (and again, because it bears repeating, keep me out of ship wars)

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #Gwyn Berdara #Azriel #Gwynriel #Elain archeron #cassian #nesta archeron #Theory #headcanon #Rhys #feyre archeron

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gwyns · 3 years

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not a question but FUCK E*RIEL STANS 🤡 FUCK THEM. i hope after the elucien or gwynriel book is announced the whole e*riel fandom will burn. i know they’ll absolutely lose their shit, destroy a few buildings and attempt to hunt down sarah and her whole family at first but my god with time can they just ... disappear? i’m utterly sick of their bull and having to deal with them and their bullying, and as much as it hurt my soul having to watch them say sick things about lucien for years, seeing them constantly make fun of gwyn and laughing at her trauma is just ... it makes me feel so so sick. ever since the acosf release it’s been harder for me to keep up with this fandom because of them. i’m a sa survivor myself so seeing these e*riel stans say shit like “i hope gwyn goes back to the library WHERE SHE BELONGS” so that their stupid fucking fictional ship could work out makes me feel personally attacked and i flinch every time i read one of their degrading comments. its like they don’t even see gwyn as an actual character a PERSON but an object they need to move out of the way so that they can reach their goal.

i’m so so sorry for the rant i just needed to let that out and since you’re my favorite anti elriel gal i came to you first :( i just ... i’m so tired of them. i did my best to ignore them in the past but mocking gwyn and her story isn’t something i can handle. i’ll still read the books but ppl like e*riel stans really scare me and i need to stay away from this fandom for the sake of my mental health

tbh i agree lmao literally every other sub fandom in the acotar fandom hates them for a reason so i don't really think their presence will be missed (as mean as that sounds).

god i know....... it's bad enough that they blame lucien for things he didn't do and constantly brush aside his trauma and what ianthe did to him but they're REALLY out here making fun of gwyn??? they're not seeing heaven. they're absolutely some of the most disgusting people i've come across in any fandom.

i'm sorry you've been through that and i'm sorry that these stans make it harder for you to enjoy something you like. i can't even begin to imagine how hard it is to see all of their sick comments. they need to realize that even if gwyn and lucien are fictional, their experiences aren't and REAL PEOPLE suffer and are hurt by their words and actions. is defending your ship really worth hurting real survivors?? these past couple of months have been awful. all they do anymore is show us every day how they don't care about being any kind of decent human being. i'm sorry but you're not a "mental health advocate" if you then turn around and compare real sa survivors to hybern just bc they don't like your ship.

you don't ever need to apologize!! rant all you want, that's what i'm here for <3 i'm just sorry it took me a couple of days to respond. and being someone's favorite "anti e/riel gal" is a title i didn't know i wanted but i'm so flattered lmao i appreciate you so so much.

i understand you completely, i get so drained after interacting in this fandom lately and it's always bc of them. i remember a time when this place was nice and welcoming and a safe space for me but now.... nope. i hate the majority of this fandom.

#asks #anonymous

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tswaney17 · 4 years

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Meeting on tumblr AU for Elriel if it strikes your fancy 😘 Congrats on 200!

Thank you for the prompt! I’ll be honest I had no idea what to do with this one, as you’ll probably tell. It’s a bit all over the place. 😂 Thank you all for reading! Let me know your thoughts. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💙

~~~

Elain was sitting at a café, her laptop open and a fresh cup of tea easily within reach. She was supposed to be working on her midterm paper for school, but instead she had her Tumblr page open and was messaging her new friend online.

They started chatting online when he left her a comment on one of her poems she had written. Ironically it was a poem she’d written for class that was based on the characters from a book series. When she explained that to him, he immediately asked for the name of the book series and whether or not she’d recommend them. That was just over a month ago. She smiled when her computer pinged for an incoming message.

BatBoiAz: I finally got that book you recommended, Assassin’s Blade. I plan on starting it today. Should I purchase the rest in the series now because I’m going to want to continue immediately or wait until I finish this one, just in case I’m not into it?

She smiled, typing out a reply.

GardenofEllie: Yes! I promise you’re going to love the series. You won’t want to wait to move onto the next book once you finish Assassin’s Blade. Trust me.

She hit send.

“Excuse me?”

Elain looked up to find one of the most gorgeous guys she’d ever seen. Golden brown skin, dark hair, and hazel eyes. He was built like a Greek god. There really was no other way to describe it. With a jawline that could cut glass and dressed in dark blue jeans, a black t-shirt and leather jacket, Elain was struck dumb with how incredibly beautiful he was.

He smirked; her eyes automatically drawn to his sinful mouth. Gods, she wanted that mouth on her.

It was then that she realized she hadn’t responded to him. “Hi,” she squeaked out. Her cheeks flushed red from the high-pitched sound of her voice. She cleared her throat. “Hi, sorry.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking a bit embarrassed himself. “Hi uh, may I sit with you? All the other tables are full.”

She glanced around the café, and indeed, he was right. The other tables were full. “Yes of course, sit,” she responded, moving her stuff around the table to make room.

“Thanks. I’m Azriel,” he said sticking his hand out after he sat down.

She clasped his hand in hers, noticing the scars, but not wanting to draw attention to them. “I’m Elain.”

“It’s nice to meet you Elain.”

“You too,” she smiled, still feeling the heat in her cheeks. “What brings you in to the café?”

Setting his phone on the table and backpack on the ground, he answered, “I wanted to try and get some reading done somewhere quiet. I know this café is commonly used by college kids to study – I guess I didn’t realize I was catching them right during exams.”

“Midterms,” she confirmed. “Yes, we are right in the middle of them. I have one paper left but I can’t seem to actually focus on it.”

He laughed. “I remember being like that.”

“When did you graduate?”

“Just last year. I have a degree in business management,” he added. “Since that’s usually what most people would ask next.”

Elain laughed. “Guilty.”

He leaned his forearms on the table. “What are you studying?”

“I’m a double major, actually. English literature and business.” At his raised brow, she explained, “It’s an odd combination, I know,” she huffed a laugh. “I love literature, but there’s not much to do with that, job-wise. Business is more practical. So, I’m majoring in both.”

“Impressive,” he stated.

She just shrugged. “I’m ready to be done with it.”

He laughed and something sparked in her chest at the sound of it. It was such a lovely sound, one that she wanted to bottle up forever. “I can’t imagine how much more work you have because of it. How much longer do you have with school?”

Elain almost missed the question, too focused on the sounds he made. “Oh, uh. This is my last semester actually.”

“Well, an early congratulations from me,” he said smiling. Shit, even that was breathtaking.

Elain could feel her cheeks turning pink. “Thank you.”

“I’ll let you get back to your, attempted midterm paper,” he remarked, nodding towards her open laptop.

She rolled her eyes sarcastically, “Gee, thanks.”

They sat in silence for a moment while a waitress brought his coffee over. He muttered a quiet “thank you,” before picking up his phone. In her peripheral, she saw him type something into his phone. He set it down, picking up his cup of coffee when her computer pinged again.

BatBoiAz: Okay, I’ll order the series tonight. I’m literally about to start the book. I hope you didn’t steer me wrong. 😉

Elain furrowed her brow. That was odd.

GardenofEllie: I promise you’ll like it. Send me updates with your reactions. I’m curious to hear your thoughts.

She heard his phone ping and looked up to see him pulling a book out of his backpack. When she saw the name on the spine, she gasped.

Assassin’s Blade.

Azriel picked up his phone, typed something out and set it back down.

Her computer pinged again.

BatBoiAz: I’m going to hold you to that. But I’ll keep you updated with my thoughts.

Elain looked up at his face, his beautiful, perfect face. “Bat Boi Az?”

The man in front of her froze, looking up at her face. “What did you just say?”

“You’re Bat Boi Az aren’t you?” She held a hand to her mouth in disbelief.

Azriel blinked at her. “Yes?” He seemed almost hesitant to respond to her.

She laughed, pointing at her chest. “Garden of Ellie,” she explained.

His eyes grew wide. “No, are you serious?” A smile cracked on his face.

“Yes!” She threw her hands up. “I can’t believe it’s you! I should’ve guessed when you told me your name. Azriel… Az. Duh!” Elain smacked herself on the forehead.

He laughed. “It’s nice to finally put a face to a name.”

Elain closed her laptop. “Midterms can wait. I’m too invested in this now,” she said, grinning.

And so, they talked. Midterms and book forgotten. Elain and Az sat in that little café for hours, getting to know each other. When they finally went their separate ways for the day, Elain left with a phone number, a date for that Friday night, and a smile on her face.

~~~

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from my tag list. Also, let me know if your tag isn’t working.

Tagging: @rhysanoodle @featherymalignancy @julesherondalex @nalgenewhore @alifletcher2012 @shyvioletcat @lovemollywho @24hourauthor @mis-lil-red @ttakeitbacknoww @belamoonbeam @chemicha @stars-falling @megaburrito2 @amitynotpity @watermilanfish @blackjacks-donuts @julemmaes @negativenesta @captainthefangirlofhp @21shotglasses @littlehoneyybee @eloeloeheheh @pilesofriles @welcometothespeaknowworldtour @tintinnabulary @abimomeopectore @keshavomit @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn @meowsekai @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @astreia-oniria @rabia-mms @b00kworm @the-regal-warrior @mirainthedark05 @maastrash @sleeping-and-books @abraxos-is-toothless

Bolded tags don’t work.

#Tay writes #prompt #elriel #elain #elain archeron #Azriel #elain x azriel

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verifiefangirl · 4 years

Note

Elain helping Azzy with a migraine?? Big love 😘

Mischief and Migranes

Hello non non! You’re the sweetest 💖

Elain loves playing nurse to the big Illyrian warrior but not as much as he likes playing patient.

Elain knows Az has a migraine before he even touches his temples subtly. He gets this look in his eyes and his shadows will always dart closer to his ears, caressingly.

Most of the time it was caused by something Cass and Mor did to rile their High Lord up.

There Azriel is, in the middle of it, trying to get everyone to calm down.

Mor finished Rhys favourite wine? Azriel goes and picks up a new one.

Cassian keeps cockblocking Rhysies morning time with Feyre? Azriel switches training time to mornings with Cassian.

Amren trying to pawn off one Feyres necklace for the night? Azriel putting it back before his High Lady finds it’s missing.

It’s honestly not hard to see why Azriel doesn’t relax around here. Now her sister has been added to the mix too.

Trying to get Nesta to do anything is a task, something that Mor likes to exploit which leads to an explosive showdown between the two. Who is the one that ends up talking them down? Azriel Mcsnugglepants

Elain makes it her mission that for at least one day no one bothers the spymaster.

So she gets the whole family busy with a day out.

She encouraged Amren to go to the summer court to see Varian

Mor to drop in on Vivanne

Cassian and Nesta were harder but she gave Nesta money to go the bookstore for the day and to take her big Illyrian with her.

She bought tickets to the play in the Sidra for Rhysand and Feyre.

So that only left her and Azriel, who was still in bed. He had the worst migraine last night and for once had turned in before everyone else. She creeped up the stairs with the tray in her hand. The glass and saucer of food clinking together.

It was rare to see what Az looked like sleeping but he looked so peaceful and innocent. Those pillowy lips, parted slightly. Lashes brushing his angular cheeks.

She loosed out a sigh as he eyes scanned his form. The sheets snaked around his hips, one bare leg visble. His golden skin offsett by the white sheets. His naked chest rising and falling gently. Her eyes devoured the Illyrian tattoos stamped across his shoulders and pecs

Good lord the man was handsome. Her blood heated and colour rushed to her face as she realised he must sleep naked. She hadn’t realised her hand had started to quiver from the revelation, causing the China to clink again, stirring the lethal warrior from his slumber.

Azriel released a groan as he would creak one eye open slowly, dreading what he’d have to deal with today

Elain figure standing in the doorway was a welcomed sight. The the food in her hands would have his stomach grumbling.

“What’s going on?” His voice still husky from sleep. The rasp of it heading straight to Elains core like molten fire.

“I brought you breakfast.” A sunny smile on her face as she gingerly sat the edge of his bed, placing the tray on lap as he sat up.

His hair was rumpled with his hazel eyes still glazed and hooded. She felt flustered as she toyed with her hair.

“Thanks, Lain. You didn’t have to do that.” He would respond and she would blush even more

Then he noticed how quiet the house was and frowned, alarm painting his features.

“What happened? Where is everyone?” He almost got out of bed before he realised he was very much naked under here and he had a very beautiful girl, that he liked, that was very much sitting across from him.

“I sent everyone out for the day so you could relax”

The look on his surprise made Elain smile even more.

So after she let him eat and get dressed they went and walked in the garden. She could help but want to plant more flowers

Az offered to help. Their hands both working on the soft soil together. His roughened Illyrian hands trying to be delicate with the roots

She would come up behind him and gently help him ease it into the earth. His eyes more focused on her face then what was happening with the flower.

The softness of her behind his wings.

For lunch Elain had outdone her self as she had cooked up a storm. All of his favourites laid on in front of him.

From chocolate cake to roast lamb. To Elain’s surprise he served her the first helping before eating himself.

He was stuffed and pampered that he found himself feeling sleepy again and what started off as just the two of them lounging on the couch turned into one of the best naps of his life.

He woke up to the sound of the front door shutting.

“So that’s why you sent us all away? Elain you sly dog” Cassians voice teased

It was then he realised the middle Archeron was sprawled across him, his arms securing her in place on his chest.

Tag list: @julesherondalex @jemma-nessian-and-elriel @maastrash @empress-ofbloodshed @wolffrising @azrielismycinnamonrollprimary @sezkins79 @poisonous00 @humanexile @sleeping-and-books @highladyofidris @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn @rhysanoodle @b00kworm @mysweetvilllain @nite0wl29

#acowar #azriel #acotar #acomaf #elriel #sjm #sarah j maas #verified tag #verified hc #michief and migranes #acofas #elain archeron

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emdythewriter · 4 years

Text

a new light | epilogue (Elriel)

*5 years later*

Azriel is sitting out on the back porch of the cottage style home that him and Elain moved into right after they got married three years ago. The backyard is currently filled with kids running around and chasing each other, well all but one child that is.

Next to Az on the porch is his four year old nephew, Emerson who’s the oldest of Cassian and Nesta’s children. He’s a lot like his mom and isn’t much for people or social events. So he just watches the three families gathered at Az’s house with his uncle.

It’s the last weekend of the summer before sending the kids back to preschool and kindergarten for Emerson. Elain had decided to host a cookout as a last little get to getter before all their lives got crazy again. Not that Elain’s business hasn’t been keeping her very busy.

When Elain finally opened her shop a few years ago she already had a waiting list of orders and the business has only grown since. Last year she opened a second location in another part of Velaris and now she’s working on another location in the capital of Winter, where Vivianne moved two years ago to be with her boyfriend recently turned husband.

Due to the growth Azriel decided to step back from Rhy’s law firm and focus on new goals that he started to grow passionate about alongside Elain. Now he runs a non-profit Rhys helped him build from the ground up and at the beginning of the year they finally were able to open up the office.

The charity focuses on helping victims of abuse whether it’s with a partner, parent, or even a stranger. Az even hosted the first event for the charity in the spring where they held an auction and donated the proceeds to several women’s shelters in Velaris. In October he’ll host a Halloween party filled with rides and haunted houses and games for all ages. Then in December he’ll partner with Rhys at the Starlight ball as well.

On top of all the success Elain and Az have both accomplished in their work lives there’s also been rewards in their personal lives. A few months after they got married Elain discovered she was pregnant with their daughter, Hope. Then six months ago they welcomed their second little girl, June.

Currently Hope is running around playing with Rhys and Feyre’s oldest, Hunter. The two were born three weeks apart, Hunter being the older one and since then they’ve been inseparable. As for June she’s currently playing with the other babies by their mother’s.

Feyre is pulling a car toy out of her daughter, Rose’s mouth while Nesta is yelling at her third child who takes after her father. Marley is currently two years old and in the middle of her first prank war of many with Cassian. Oliver, Nesta and Cassian’s youngest is laughing as he watches his troublesome sister.

Azriel chuckles as he watches the failed prank Marley attempts on Cassian who likes to call himself the King of Pranks. When he catches his daughter she shrieks and runs away only to have her father race after her. Those two are going to be trouble, Az thinks as he takes a sip of the mixed drink Feyre had made for all of them.

“Mom’s going to lose her voice again,” Emerson says, watching his little sister be caught by their dad. “She just got it back too.” Nesta had always been the one to yell when she gets mad and ever since Marley learned to crawl Nesta’s been losing her voice every few weeks.

“Yeah but it’ll only get worse if Oliver takes after those two,” Az responds. He can only imagine how much Nesta will start drinking if she ends up with two meddlesome kids, especially considering Cassian is trying to convince her to have another baby within the next year.

“That’s why Marley won’t be allowed to influence my brother,” Emerson says sternly. He’s definitely like his mom, Az thinks as he watches the young boy next to him. Emerson may act like his mother but he looks just like his father. He has the say dark hair, skin tone, and grin as Cassian the only difference is the eyes, those are grey like Nesta’s.

Rhys, who’s been manning the grill calls out that the burgers and hot dogs are done. The kids rush to their seats, even Emerson who has the same love for food as Cassian. Azriel walks over to his wife and takes June from her so she can run into the house and grab the side dishes.

There’s already potatoes and corn out on the table but Elain had made a salad and chopped up some fruit before everyone came over. Az puts June in her high chair they had set in between him and Elain’s seats. Strapping her in putting a bib around her neck Az shakes out a bag of cereal for her to snack on.

His wife comes back out and adds some fruit to June’s tray as well before sitting down and grabbing her own food. Bowls and trays of food get passed around the table as they all make their plates for themselves and their children.

Once everyone is settled the conversations start. There’s talk of the kids which is everyone’s favorite topic. Then there’s talk of work and some charity events Az hopes to do throughout the next year. They also talk about the little things that have taken place throughout their lives.

“Sometimes I wish we took a page out of Amren’s book and waited to have kids,” Nesta tells her husband as the conversation switches topics once again. Amren who is Nesta’s closest friend has spent the past year travelling the world with her fiance, Varian before getting married and settling down.

“If you went the Amren route you probably would never have kids,” Rhys comments knowing his former partner. When Amren got back together with Varian she decided to leave Rhys’s firm and work at a different one in Adriata.

“That’s very true and why would you want to miss out on this cuteness?” Cassian says as he bounces Oliver on his lap, their son having scarfed down his dinner. Oliver realizing that people are looking at him, smiles and babbles as he looks up at his mother.

Nesta smiles widely at her youngest. “Yeah I guess you’re right for once,” she tells her husband as she takes Oliver from him. Hugging her son close. Elain is smiling just like everyone around the table who all know what Nesta went through to get where she is now.

“So does that mean we can have another?” Cassian says hoping he’s finally broken through to his wife.

“Ask me when he’s one,” Nesta responds, rocking Oliver who’s starting to doze off.

“Deal,” Cassian says lovingly watching his wife and son. Az knows his friend is also thinking about what he did in a past life to deserve this.

“Anyone else want more kids?” Feyre asks curiously.

“Maybe in another couple of years,” Elain says looking over at Azriel.

“Sounds good to me,” he tells his wife with a smile. Back when they had first started talking about a family Azriel had told her he didn’t care how many kids they had as long as she wanted them.

“You want another baby darling?” Rhys asks his wife using her nickname.

“I don’t know,” Feyre says honestly. Rhys nods, smiling.

“Well whatever you decide I’ll support you all the way,” Rhys reaches down into Feyre’s lap for her hand bringing it to his mouth for a kiss. Feyre smiles.

“Even if she asks you to get a vasectomy?” Cassian asks with a shudder.

“Yes because I actually listen to my wife,” Rhys combats.

“Hey I listen to Nesta!” Cassian argues.

“Rarely,” Nesta mumbles, causing Cassian to huff in annoyance mostly because he knows it’s true.

Az laughs as he watches his friends, his family and appreciating that this is his life. It’s a life he never thought he would get to hold. Then a woman with the kindest soul moved into his building and made him crave a life like this one.

Looking over at the woman that changed everything for him, his love, his wife, his Elain Az can’t hold back his smile. It’s a smile she reads easily and returns knowing that he changed her life just as much as she did his.

“I love you,” Elain whispers to her husband, all the unsaid feelings and emotions wrapped in those three words and he’s hit with it all as he grasps and squeezes her hand.

“I love you,” Azriel whispers right back with the same impact as Elain’s own whispered words.

They both hang on to each other as the banter between their family continues until it starts to grow dark and the children grow restless along with the dimming light. Saying goodbye they watch as Nesta and Cassian drive back to their home as well as Feyre and Rhys.

Elain and Azriel walked back into the house, hand in hand with Hope running ahead and June knocked out on her father’s shoulder.

Laughing Elain follows her oldest into Hope’s room while Az puts June in her crib. With the girls in bed they head to their own bed together.

“I still can’t believe I get to do this every night forever,” Az whispers into the darkness as he pulls his wife into his arms. She rests a hand on his chest and smiles at her husband.

“I can’t either,” Elain says, pressing kisses onto Az’s bare chest.

“We have to be up early,” Azriel tells her as she continues down his body.

“I don’t care,” Az chuckles before pulling his wife back up and flipping her onto her back.

“Well then I guess it’s about to be a long night,” he whispers in Elain’s ear, rocking his erection against her sensitive core. Elain moans into a searing kiss.

This is the dream, Azriel thinks as he kisses his wife and pours all the love he feels for her and all the love she’s given him into one beginning kiss.

Tag list:

@thephilosophyofblank @roseteaofficial @sleeping-and-books @court-of-fuck-me-daddy @azriels-forgotten-shadow @tintinnabulary @jemma-nessian-and-elriel @chemicha @but-she-was-aelin-galathynius @ttakeitbacknoww @azrielismycinnamonrollprimary @mis-lil-red @poisonous00 @julesherondalex @theogvodkaaunt @rapunzel1523 @l0sts0uls1128 @lord-douglas-the-third @musicalfae @sezkins79 @eloeloeheheh @caldelray @abimomeopectore @tswaney17 @wonderlandatemypancakes @loysydark @imheretooa @illyriangarbage @emmejo26 @amitynotpity @alingelina @hav-illi-ard @amylindle @ellenoftroy @hizqueen4life @rheapendragon @judexcardanxgreenbriar @psmarra @hail-doodles @strangely-constructed-soul

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epochofbelief · 4 years

Text

Breath Control, Chapter Seven

An A Court of Mist and Fury College Swim Team AU

All characters belong to SJ Maas!

Feysand.... and welcome to Elriel.

Warnings: cursing

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Authors Note: This chapter is a BIG gateway chapter to a lot of things. . . also VERY lightly edited... and enjoy the new POV shift... ;)

Masterlist Link!

SEVEN

~~~Elain~~~

It was around 9 am. I’d been in the kitchen for an hour already, trying to decide what to make for breakfast. I’d started making pancakes, then switched to waffles, then omelets. I’d be set on my decision for as long as it would take me to pull out all the ingredients for my choice, then I’d change my mind, put everything back, and pull a bunch of different things out.

My father walked in at around 9:30, as I was pulling the muffins I’d made from scratch out of the oven. I’d decided muffins were neutral enough that everyone in the house would like them and that I could make them well enough to everyone’s satisfaction. Nesta said I worked too hard to please people.

No clue where she got that idea. . .

“Is no one else up?” my father said.

I shook my head. “Just me and the muffins.”

He took one, buttered it, and made to sit down. He seemed to think better of it, though, because he set his muffin down and stood up straight. “I’d better go wake Feyre. I want to ask her about all those paint cans and supplies she’s left in the garage, and someone has to be here to eat these muffins. Best to do it know while Mr. Night sleeps; I know how sensitive that girl can be about her painting.”

I nodded, standing alone at the counter before I remembered.

“Dad, Dad, Dad! Let me wake up Feyre. I--um--”

He was halfway up the stairs when I caught up to him, pausing to look down at me. I went with the oldest trick in the book. “Girl stuff.” I widened my eyes meaningfully. “Best if I check up on her first.”

I prayed my father didn’t see through my very feeble attempt to make him uncomfortable. But it worked. He clicked his tongue and descended the staircase. “I’ll take your word for it, Elain. Hurry down. And tell Feyre to hurry too…”

It was like he knew. Oh Feyre was so going to owe me.

I bounded up the stairs, not slowing until I was at the top of Feyre’s own narrow staircase. I knocked and entered, ready to get a kick out of what was about to happen.

“Oh, Feyreeee, Dad needs you downstairs.”

Nothing for a few moments. I thought I heard whispers but from where I stood, I couldn’t see anything besides the large lump of her white bed coverings. “I guess I could send Dad up here…”

The whispering became clearer, now, and I made out something like, “Shut up!” and “I’ll handle it” and “Calm the fuck down.”

Feyre suddenly appeared in a very large t-shirt and nothing else. “Thanks, ‘Lain.” She practically hissed my name. She stalked across the floor toward me. “How’d you know?” She murmured.

“Got up for a glass of water last night. Saw Rhysand’s ass as it cleared the top of the staircase. Figured I’d save you from Dad’s wrath.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “We didn’t do anything. And Dad has no right to dictate what I can and can’t do.”

“Obviously not,” I agreed. “But he could make things very awkward.”

“True. We’ll--I’ll--be down in a second. Please don’t tell Nesta. She’d be unbearable.”

“Tell me what?” A voice like iron floated across the small landing.

Feyre shut her eyes and I cringed. Nesta’s judgment might be worse than our father’s.

“Hey, Nesta,” Feyre said guiltily.

“Feyre. Hi Rhys!” Nesta raised her voice imperceptibly.

A tan hand rose from the bed. “Why the fuck do you have so many sisters, Archeron?”

The light that shone behind Feyre’s eyes was like nothing I’d ever seen before. In either of my sisters’ faces. Or my own. I bit back my own grin. After Tamlin, and the shitty year Feyre had had, I just wanted her to be happy. And Rhys was so good-natured. Didn’t hurt that he was hot, too. She deserved to look all happy despite being caught out by her two older sisters.

“I’d get downstairs quick. And arrive separately.” Nesta was fighting back a laugh. “I can’t wait to hear Dad chew you out for your sex life. For once, it won’t be me.” She smiled wickedly.

“We didn’t--I didn’t--get out!” Feyre screeched at us.

“You’re welcome,” Nesta and I said in unison, and we grinned at each other. Feyre pushed us out with surprising strength and slammed the door.

“That was fun.” Nesta started down the staircase first.

I was about to respond when my phone vibrated in my back pocket. I pulled it out.

Azriel: Mooorning

“Who’s that?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t play dumb.” Nesta dropped her voice to a low whisper as we descended the main staircase and headed for the kitchen. “You’re grinning like an idiot, and not in the ‘I just caught my sister with a boy in her bed in my dad’s house’ way you were earlier.”

“Uh, just looking at a meme.” Weak.

“Because you spend so much time scrolling through memes.”

Thankfully, Nesta let the subject drop. I honestly wished she hadn’t. Everyone had been treating me like a fragile piece of glass since the whole Greyson debacle. And while, yes, I wasn’t quite ready to share that I’d been secretly talking to Azriel for the past two months… I was strong enough to handle some sisterly teasing, or even fatherly teasing. Or any kind of teasing.

Instead, everything was, “Oh, Elain, your cookies taste so good!” and, “Oh, Elain, the garden looks wonderful!” and, “Oh, Elain, how’s nursing school?” Nobody wanted to talk about anything real with me, because they thought I wasn’t ready. And if I was the one to start down that road, they’d continue to tread on ice around me and just be grateful I was talking at all. Too grateful to really listen to what I had to say.

Which was why I’d downloaded a dating app two months ago, swiped right on all of two guys before I’d found someone worthy of deleting the app immediately after we started messaging. It’d been a constant stream of texting and snapchatting ever since, even if we hadn’t met up in person yet. My romantic past, Azriel’s loner tendencies, and the fact that he was one of Rhys’s best friends and Feyre’s teammate had made us decide to take things slow. But seeing how happy Feyre was with Rhys--and she didn’t even know it quite yet--made me think that I should tell my sister and then get Azriel to take me out.

That would certainly surprise everybody. Elain made of glass, indeed.

Before I could lose my nerve, I texted Azriel back. Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I reentered the kitchen with a smile on my face, trying not to ponder on the message I’d just sent.

Elain: I’ve been thinking. . . We should meet up… Face to face.

Elain: Like on a date.

I got a response within a moment and didn’t need to check my phone to know what it said.

Azriel: Hell yes.

~~~FEYRE~~~

I slammed the door shut. I looked behind me to find Rhys, breathtakingly shirtless, propped up on one elbow behind me.

“What are the chances that both of your lovely sisters keep their mouths shut about this? Cuz I have a feeling even a mutual love for collegiate athletics won’t stop your father from kicking me out of the house for staying the night in your room.”

I slumped onto the bed and he was suddenly there, filling all the empty space in the room as he hovered over me. I closed my eyes, fighting back a smile. “They’ve had their fun. Sisters don’t snitch.”

He rested his forehead against my shoulder. “Great. Not that I care about you, of course. I’m just very concerned about where I’ll have Thanksgiving dinner if your dad kicks me out.”

I sat up and pushed him back against the blankets all in one motion. “You take that back,” I said playfully.

“Make me.”

“How about I go down there and confess to my dad before Nesta or Elain can rat us out? Then I’d be rid of your sorry ass much more quickly.”

“Feyre!” Elain’s voice floated up the stairs tauntingly, interrupting our flirting.

“This isn’t over, Archeron,” Rhys said threateningly.

I pointed to the door. “Go put on something presentable. Your hair’s a mess.”

He scowled. But he kissed me lightly on the lips before he left the room and I almost told him to forget about family breakfast and stay up here with me, instead.

------

The day passed in a blur. We spent the majority of it in the kitchen prepping for Thanksgiving lunch tomorrow afternoon. After a while, we all retired to the living room and marathoned the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Rhys sat next to me on the couch and as soon as it got dark enough outside that my father, Nesta, and Elain probably wouldn’t notice, he took my hand under our shared blanket and I set my head on his shoulder.

I stayed in his room that night, although we were both too tired to do much other than fall into bed after a day spent in the kitchen. I woke before him the next morning and tiptoed downstairs to let him sleep.

I found Elain and Nesta arguing in my kitchen.

“Why don’t you just tell me who he is,” Nesta was saying in a very low, very dangerous voice.

“Butt out, Nesta. It’s no one.”

“If it was no one, there’d be nothing for me to butt out of, now would there be?”

Elain was gripping the island countertop in the center of the kitchen. Nesta, surprisingly, was cooking up a huge skillet of scrambled eggs. It smelled as though they were starting to burn while her attention was focused on Elain.

Elain’s phone vibrated. “Who is he?” Nesta shrieked.

“Fuck off!”

“What’s going on?” I asked.

They both started speaking at once.

“Elain’s being stupid--”

“Nesta won’t stay out of my own fucking business--”

“Help me convince her--”

I held up my hands. “Oh, both of you shut up! Elain. Explain.”

Nesta mumbled something under her breath that I chose not to hear as Elain sighed. “Nesta thinks I’m talking to a boy. She thinks that she has a right to know who he is--if he even exists,” Elain added with an eye roll, “and that she deserves the right to approve. I told her to fuck off, but she’s not listening.”

I’d never heard so many “fucks” from Elain in one conversation. There was definitely a boy.

“Well, why don’t you tell us? After everything…”

Elain pushed herself back from the countertop, throwing her hands up in the air. “I’m not some fragile teenager who doesn’t know how to speak to boys! Despite what you think about how terribly broken I am after Greyson, I know what I’m doing! And now I don’t want to tell you even more. So leave me alone.”

She turned and pushed through the door that led from the kitchen to the side yard.

I looked at Nesta. She looked at me.

“She better be getting it reallll good to get so upset with us for asking about it,” Nesta said.

I took a seat at the barstools surrounding the island. “Do you think she. . . Do we really treat her like a teenager who doesn’t know how to speak to boys?”

“Maybe. But that’s because she doesn’t know how to speak to boys--or men, for that matter.”

Nesta thought she knew what was best for Elain--and she usually did. But Nesta also liked getting her way. When her way wasn’t Elain’s way. . . It was difficult for both of them. I resolved that no matter what Nesta thought, I’d try to give Elain some space when it came to her Mystery Guy. Even if I was dying to find out who it was.

“Speaking of boys. . .” Nesta began, but at that moment, Rhys stepped into the kitchen. Thank God. I didn’t know what exactly was going on between us at the moment. Discussing it with Nesta would be torture.

“Good morning,” I said brightly as Rhys took a seat beside me.

“Is it?” He asked. Nesta had turned around to find her eggs burnt to a crisp, ignoring Rhys entirely.

“What’s wrong?”

Rhys leaned his elbows on the counter. “My father called. He’s in town. And wants me to spend the weekend with him in my hometown.”

I couldn’t help the fear that gripped me at his words. Was he just making this up because he wanted to escape me? I struggled to keep my voice steady. “Where’s that?”

“Two hours north of here.”

“Well I can take you and drop you off tomorrow morning,” I managed to say. “Would that work?”

He blinked. “I did tell you that my father is a horrible person, right?”

“Not sure you mentioned it. . . But it’s Thanksgiving. You should be with family.” Which was true. Although I’d rather he stay here.

He rolled his eyes. “I can’t burden you with driving all the way out there and back just so I can spend the weekend with a very unideal candidate.” He gave me a look that told me who was the ideal candidate. Maybe he wasn’t making this up. . .

“Um. . . Uber?” Stay here, stay here, stay here.

“Too expensive.” He glanced at Nesta, and then turned to face me more fully. “You could stay with us. We can just make it ‘meet the parents’ week.” He smiled hopefully.

Relief flooded my body. “Well…” I definitely wanted to go with him. Right now I didn’t want to leave his side at all after the past two nights sleeping in his arms. But I didn’t want to offend my family.

Nesta banged the skillet against the edge of the trash can, causing both Rhys and me to jump about a mile. “Go with him, Feyre. I’ll talk to Dad.”

I couldn’t help the smile that exploded across my face. “I guess you’re stuck with me.” I grinned at him.

“There’s no one else I’d rather be stuck with.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List: @sleeping-and-books @musicalfae @queen-of-glass

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