come as you are
pairing: azriel (ACoTaR) x reader
summary: in the evening before a high-profile banquet, reader feels a little out of place. azriel reassures her that he fell in love with them just as they are.
notes: oof bad summary, but this is fluffy and azriel is real romantic in this one <3 eg. the line “i have not once wished you to be any different than you are.”
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you shuffled your feet as you made your way to the living room, having heard azriel arrive home a few minutes ago. your gown clung to you, making you uncomfortable in all kinds of ways. it was disappointing, frankly - weeks of preparation, of confidence, and now you felt embarrassed, wearing what you were. it felt like a costume. it was silly - you had meticulously observed the court’s fashion trends, taken cue from azriel’s friends - you knew the dress was appropriate. but for some reason, you felt like an impostor in it.
there azriel was, sitting on the couch. his wings curved along the back, sharp talons gleaming. you sidled up behind him, curling an arm over his chest as you rested your chin on his head.
“my love,” he greeted, warmth in his voice as he entwined his fingers with yours. you sighed as you shifted, nudging your head against his. he looked up at you, his shadows faintly curling over his ears. perhaps your expression was particularly morose, because he squeezed your hand just a little tighter. “long day?”
“just another day,” you mumbled, shrugging. azriel’s brows rose when you rounded the couch, finally allowing him to see the gown. it was no surprise to him - he had been so patient with your fussing, asking for his input on what colours would compliment your skin and hair and eyes the best. at first he had been vague, telling you things like you’d look beautiful in anything and just wear what you like, but once he realised the whole thing actually really distressed you, azriel tried his best to be more specific, despite meaning what he’d initially said. your preoccupation had concerned him, but he dismissed it as excitement. but now, the way you behaved - sheepish, uneasy, reluctant - made him really worry.
“you’re as beautiful as ever,” he said, taking your hand and guiding you closer. resting his hands on your hips, he didn’t miss your tight smile at his words. “are you ready for tonight?”
you weren’t. not for the first time, you couldn’t help but think of how different you were to his friends in the inner circle. even the company they kept - other courts’ princes, captains of the guard… influential people. you were nowhere near as affluent or powerful. compared to them, you were so average, just another citizen in velaris. frankly, you found it ridiculous to believe that azriel had ever deigned to take interest in you in the first place. all this insecurity had been funneled into your obsessive preparation for tonight’s banquet, where you’d be in such esteemed company. you were scared that if you made a misstep, you’d embarrass not only yourself, but azriel too.
unable to meet his eyes, you said, “just my hair.”
he frowned at that, but didn’t press. “let me,” he said, taking your hand again as he led you to the bedroom. there was a long, full-length mirror there, reflecting azriel’s actions as he sat on the bed after finding your brush. he was still in his leathers, yet to change into his set of black finery.
you were taken aback that azriel had taken the duty upon himself, but didn’t comment. what you didn’t know - but what shouldn’t have been such a big surprise - was that azriel had paid attention to the styles which had caught your eye in the past. in informal gatherings with the inner circle, he’d seen the way you had looked at feyre’s intricate braids - with longing, and sometimes even with envy.
as you made to sit, azriel grabbed your elbow. “not on the floor.” you stifled a chuckle - it was rather his aversion to grime and impropriety that made him say it instead of concern for your dress.
“i’m fine here,” you insisted, smile pulling at your mouth. the gown pooled around you as you sat at his feet, facing your reflection. curling your arms around his shins, you pressed a quick kiss to his knee. he caressed your bare skin from shoulder up to neck, his scars rough but familiar. as azriel ran his hands through your hair for a few moments, some tension left your jaw - you hadn’t even realised the thought of the banquet had you gritting your teeth the whole time.
you watched him through the mirror as he started to brush your hair, wondering how he felt about tonight. he wasn’t really one for social events, but he was one to indulge those he loved. it should’ve made your heart warm, but instead you felt that tell-tale stinging of the nose and blinked back tears.
it had been an adjustment to accept - if you ever truly had accepted - the juxtaposition of your and azriel’s worlds. coming to know the affluence of the inner circle and azriel’s wealth… it had posed some challenges you two had to overcome. he didn’t boast his wealth - lived rather modestly, in fact - but the fact that money was rarely an object for any of the inner circle grated at you. every time you saw them, they seemed untouchable - the most beautiful gowns, priceless jewelry, big houses, such luxury up at the house of wind. their sheer intelligence, the level of their wit - you sometimes felt like you couldn’t keep up. it was easy to be envious, and indeed sometimes you wished you were a person of importance to the court, if only to feel more worthy of azriel.
“what’s on your mind?” he asked gently, fingers starting to work your hair into braids in a loving, lingering manner. it felt so comforting, it felt so safe.
“am i doing this right?” you blurted, and his movements stilled, but only for a moment. “we’re from such different worlds, azriel. do you ever wish i had been someone better?”
“better?” he scoffed, such an overt gesture for the usually stoic man. “i have not once wished you to be any different than you are.”
you sighed, voice tight and heavy with emotion when you spoke again. “i can’t compare to the inner circle. ever. i’m nobody, azriel. i’m not anyone of consequence. i’m not even attractive enough to just be a trophy mate. i can’t understand why you ever--”
“stop.” it was quiet, firm, solemn. you tried to place his expression, but this time you really couldn’t read him. “why do you say such things?” you ignored the hypocrisy - azriel was certainly no stranger to self depreciation. “would you really give up your current life for these things? do i not… do i not make you happy? do you want more?”
azriel rarely stumbled over his words, and the hesitancy immediately clutched at your heart. you shook your head, a harsh jerk, but azriel’s voice was stern. “keep still.”
“it’s not you!” you growled, gripping his legs tighter as you tried to avoid your reflection. heat flushed your cheeks and chest, anger and frustration colouring your skin. “i’m not—i’m not made of the same stuff as you, azriel. don’t i bore you?”
heart racing, palms sweating. the ensuing silence rang loud. you risked a glance at the mirror, but azriel was merely letting the hairstyle take shape. his non-answer was making your outburst feel childish, but then he gently nudged your chin.
the mirror reflected back exactly what you’d envisioned for yourself, and yet, you were too drained to be happy about it. “looks lovely, azriel. thank you.”
he touched your shoulder; a request. rising to straddle his lap, you swallowed hard as he gently held your face in his hands. if he were someone else, the intensity of his gaze might have been intimidating, but you knew he was merely gathering his thoughts. “you’re you, and that’s very important. i fell in love with you. fate has decided my other half is you, just as you are. peace with you is not boring, my love,” he said, a strange half-chuckle escaping him. “and comparison won’t do; it is for people like you who we work to protect. your role in velaris isn’t without impact - you’ve touched many lives, whether they were kin or not. your effect cannot be erased. it certainly cannot be undone on me.”
“azriel,” you whispered, unsure of what else to say. his shadows had started to snake around you, intangible things trying their best to give comfort.
“is this why you’re anxious about tonight? because you feel the need to prove yourself?” you looked away, and while his thumb caressed your cheek, he didn’t try to force your gaze. “sweetheart,” he sighed, “my love for you is unconditional.”
and finally the tears rolled. you whimpered as you clutched at his back, pressing close to hide your face against his neck. azriel rarely spoke so much - it was usually nonverbal with him. to hear these things uttered so genuinely, so adoringly - it overwhelmed your heart.
“i love you so much, azriel. so very much.”
he held you tight, pressing a kiss to your temple. “don’t undo all my hard work, mind you,” he murmured wryly, making you laugh as you reflexively touched a braid. “stop it,” he insisted, nose rubbing against yours as he grabbed your careless hand, and then you were really laughing, because now azriel was grinning too and his fingers were entwining with yours and you were almost feeling like yourself again. he pulled back, so very beautiful with that rare full smile. it slowly faded, however, but the mirth in his face remained. “my lovely mate,” he mused, so low that it was more akin to an uttered thought rather than spoken with intent.
when the time came, you enjoyed the banquet: compliments and catch-ups and champagne, politics and wit and inter-court visitors. later that night - or early the next morning - when it was just you and azriel again, laying in bed in the darkness, he admitted that the glamour of the inner circle even got to him at times. it was no surprise, considering how formal azriel was. yes, there was hierarchy; yes, there were power imbalances, but what really bound them together was love, not status. he had arm and wing thrown over you, lulling you to sleep with affirmations and reassurances, telling you just once more how important, how worthy, how extraordinary you and your so-called mundane life were, and to never let anyone tell you otherwise.
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