#Elain can’t avoid it forever

[the-darkestminds]

“Elain and Lucien are indifferent towards each other, they will never be endgame.”

Indifference implies they do not care about each other in any way shape or form. That they are unconcerned and unaffected by each other. We already know that’s not true for Lucien. The longing and pain he feels every time Elain rejects his attempts to know her make that very clear. So does Elain’s anger when Feyre suggests she give Lucien a chance to get to know her. If she was truly indifferent she would not care or even notice when he’s around. She’d be unaffected by his presence, which she clearly is not. She gets withdrawn and quiet when he’s around. We don’t know what exactly she’s feeling towards him aside from: “I don’t want a male. I don’t want a mate.” But whatever she’s feeling, it’s not indifference. I know people probably say this because it’s nice to imagine a scenario in which both Elain and Lucien happily reject their mating bond, but nothing will ever convince me that Lucien would be happy with that outcome. Or Elain, honestly. She’s been avoiding this confrontation for a while and the moment when she will have to face it is quickly approaching. Prepare yourselves 🫵

#they have so much potential #Elain can’t avoid it forever #Sarah won’t let her get away with never giving Lucien a chance #I know this #sarah j maas #sjm #acowar #acomaf #acotar #a court of wings and ruin #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #acofas #a court of frost and starlight #a court of silver flames #elucien #pro elucien #Lucien #lucien vanserra #pro lucien #pro Elain #Elain #lucien x elain #elain x lucien #anti elriel #anti e/riel

[nocasdatsgay]

From the Shadows the Beast Will Rise Chapter 5

Pairing: Azriel/Eris| Word Count: 2709| Chapter Rating: T| Warnings: None

Previous Chapter| Masterpost| Read it here on A03

Fic Summary: Months after that one encounter, Eris receives demand for a response to his summons to visit the Night Court. He ends up with warning for the future and a certain shadowsinger back under his skin.

Chapter Summary: The aftermath

A/N: I am a slow writer. I apologize this took so long

Gen Tag List: @hieragalbatorixdottir @mybestfriendmademe

Azriel didn’t even bother to clean off the Truth Teller. Shadows protested as he used them to get back to Velaris. He ignored them. He ended up in the sitting room where everyone was waiting. 

“Beron is dead.” Az tried to ignore Nyx excitedly reaching for him and calling his name from the floor where he was playing. “The former lady said we should have a drink for her in celebration. Official confirmation will come in the morning.”

“Eris is High Lord?” Rhys asked. Azriel nodded. “And you helped?” 

“I let the former Lady of Autumn borrow my weapon. She and Eris did the rest.” 

“Good for her,” Nesta replied from beside Cassian. 

Nyx, realizing Azriel wasn’t responding, began to pout before whimpering and crying. 

“Az! Up!” Nyx started crawling to him, refusing to be ignored. 

“My hands are dirty, bud,” he said softly, stepping back.  “I’ll go wash them.” 

Feyre quickly scooped up her son and bounced him in her arms. Two shadows went to him and his cries turned to giggles. 

“She deserved to be the one to end him,” she said, going back to her seat. “After everything he’s done to her.”

Rhys hummed beside her. “I think the story will be different, officially. I doubt Eris will allow his mother to claim that kill.”

“This changes things with Koschei,” Cassian muttered. “Beron was his sole ally in Prythian. He might be after Vassa sooner than we expect.”

Azriel understood what Cassian was saying. But the adrenaline of the short lived battle was leaving him. The realization of what happened between him and Eris- his stomach was churning. 

“I’ll go wash my hands,” he muttered and left the room quickly. 

Azriel went into the kitchen. He cleaned his knife first. The water was grounding and as he washed the blood. His hands were next. Even with no blood on them, he still felt dirty. Shadows hissed at him to stop scrubbing. 

“Why aren’t you in Autumn?” 

Az started, turning to see Elain looking up at him. 

“My allegiance is to the Night Court.” Azriel replied immediately. 

She stepped closer. Once upon a time he would have welcomed her presence; longed for this closeness. Now it was just a reminder that the cauldron had other plans. He felt nothing. 

“You can’t hide from him forever,” she whispered. “I know from experience.” 

He turned off the water and grabbed a towel to dry his hands. 

“What did you see Elain?” 

She shook her head. “What happens now is your choice.”

She walked away and left him more confused than before. He picked up his knife and dried it. Cassian and Nesta both stopped by the kitchen where he kept wiping the knife to avoid moving. They bid him good night, saying they would see him in the morning. He didn’t stop them.

Talk to the High Lord. His shadows whispered. 

Azriel’s feet led him back to the sitting area. He found Rhys and Feyre alone, Nyx possibly taken to bed by his Aunt Elain. 

“Rhys, can I speak with you? Alone.” Az didn’t want to face this truth with Feyre just yet. 

Rhys and Feyre stared at each other, no doubt communicating through their minds. Az couldn’t look Feyre in the eyes after she nodded. Rhys beckoned him to follow and they walked to his office. When the door shut, Az realized he couldn’t look Rhys in the eyes either. It was obvious Rhys was waiting for Azriel to talk first. 

“I found my mate.” He whispered. 

There was a slight gasp. “I told you,” Rhys said with a joyous tone. “I knew you had one. Do we know her? Is she here or in another court?” 

Azriel was sure this is what drowning in air felt like. He glanced up and saw the joyous expression on his brother falter. Rhys stepped forward, his expression changing to concern. 

“What’s wrong? Is she with someone else? She’s safe, right?” 

“The cauldron is wrong.” Az replied, his voice cracking and tears spilling from his eyes. “The cauldron has to be wrong.” He tuned out his shadows protesting his statement. 

“Why would you say that?” Rhys’s hands were outstretched but he didn’t touch him. Not until Azriel told him he could. “You’ve waited over five hundred years for a mate, Az. How can-“

“My mate is Eris.” 

As if he had struck a physical blow, Rhys’s hands dropped to his side. 

“It’s a trick,” Rhys said confidently. “It would have snapped before now. Show me what happened in Autumn. We can look through your memories and find out where you were spelled.” 

Azriel shook his head. “My shadows confirmed it before I even felt it.” He sniffled, trying to compose himself. “I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you. I can’t lose this. I don’t know how it works when it’s two males but I will reject it. I can’t-“

“Look at me.” He forced himself to look into Rhys’s violet eyes. “You will never lose me. You’ll never lose us or Velaris.” 

“My mate is Eris, Rhys.” 

Rhys shrugged, picking at his shirt nervously. “We can work that to our advantage. Especially now that he is High Lord.” 

Anger washed over Azriel. “What do you mean? I’m mated to a monster! And you want to jump to advantages?” 

“I’m trying to make light of the situation, Azriel. What I mean is, you don’t have to reject the bond. Not unless you really wish to.” Rhys stepped back and leaned against his desk. “He’s not a monster, Az. Not really. I wouldn’t have made an alliance with him if he was. We would not have helped him if he was. And neither are you. I know that’s what you’re thinking even without looking into your mind. Like calls to like but not in the ways you assume.” 

“Then what am I supposed to do, Rhys? How can I tell Cassian? Tell Mor? I’m mated to the male who left her to die. Who calls Cassian all kinds of foul names. He even tried to steal Nesta.” 

Rhys studied him for a moment. “What does he think about the bond, Eris? Does he know?” 

“It snapped for both of us. He-“ Azriel thought about the confrontation he had before he left Autumn. “He said he doesn’t need or want a mate.” 

Rhys eyed him. “What did the bond tell you?” 

“That he was just as confused as me.” 

Az didn’t mention the deep longing he felt. Mostly because he wasn’t sure if that was truely from Eris or himself. He tilted his head as he thought about what to say next. 

“There were signs I guess. Signs I ignored. We might have been in a situation. Before.” 

Rhys raised a brow. He sighed, words falling from his lips out of guilt or need to confess. 

“I made a mistake. I might have- I have slept with him.” 

Rhys’s brows shot up further. 

“A few times.” 

“When in the deep hells did you fuck Eris Vanserra?” 

“First time was after a meeting. After, my shadows just took me to him.” Azriel replied meekly. “Did you know my shadows can have sex on their own? Found that out cause they went to him without telling me.”

“Your shadows fucked Eris by themselves? Without telling you? And yet you are shocked you are mates?” Rhys, to Azriel’s shock, was laughing. 

“This isn’t funny.” 

“It’s actually very funny. If someone told me my brother, my best friend, was fucking his enemy on the low, I wouldn’t have believed them. Cassian is going to lose his mind when you tell him.” 

“Rhys this is serious.” 

He ignored Azriel. “How far does this go back? Before or after the war with Hybern?” 

“After.” 

“Is that why you pushed to retrieve him from the continent?” 

“It was after that.” And yet, maybe deep down he knew even then. “That last meeting with Mor about a year ago. I followed him. My original plan was to kill him.” 

“And you fucked him instead.” Rhys nearly snorted. 

“Yeah. I did.” Az tried not to smile. But he could even admit there was some ridiculousness to it all.  

There was a lapse of silence and Rhys took a deep breath. “You know this compromises you as my spymaster. For Autumn at least.” 

“Why do you think I told you first?” 

“We need to bring Feyre in if we’re going to continue to discuss business. She is your High Lady. For now.”

“My allegiance is to the night court,” he repeated for the third time that night. 

“Not when your mate is a new high lord.”

Rhys called for Feyre through his mind. She came in and stood by Rhys. Az explained everything to Feyre in a much calmer tone, though her look of shock still made him feel guilty. For what, he wasn’t sure. Rhys interjected with the story of the shadows, all but demanding with a smirk that Azriel explain how his shadows went off on their own.  

Azriel pinched the bridge of his nose. “Rhys thinks this is funny.” 

“It is funny, Az.” Feyre giggled. She took a deep breath and looked at him sincerely. “By the gods I’ll not be able to keep a straight face the next time I see him.” 

Next time. Azriel wasn’t sure there would be a next time or what that would even look like. 

“Give him time,” Rhys said, as if reading his mind though his shields were up. “He has a court to get in order.”

“I still have to tell the others,” Azriel added with a grimace. 

“Only if you want to,” Feyre said sternly. 

He nodded. He wasn’t looking forward to what Mor and Cassian would have to say. He bid Feyre and Rhys good night and left the house, taking to the sky. He felt lighter, having told them. But there was still a weight in his chest, a sadness humming there. The worst part was he wasn’t sure if it was his own or Eris’s.  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Eris mended the wards after he took on the powers, he winnowed to his bathing chambers where he vomited up what little he had in his stomach. 

A mate. 

Azriel was his mate.

And Eris was High Lord now. 

The power humming under his skin made him want to claw it off. He got off the floor and rinsed off his face. Azriel was his mate. He didn’t even think males could be mated to other males. He didn’t dare look at his reflection in the mirror, afraid of what he would see. He turned his back to it and slumped against the counter. His mate was spymaster of the Night Court. 

This complicated everything. 

He mentally slapped himself. He didn’t have time to be pining. He was High Lord now. The next few days would cement his power and influence or ruin it beyond repair. He had a court to gather. He needed to find his brothers before they started up a rebellion against him. Things he’d been planning for over the centuries but now had to execute. He left the bathing room and prepared to leave his quarters when his door opened suddenly and his mother stepped inside. 

“Mother,” Eris started. He schooled his features like he always did. A lie fell from his lips easily. “Have you seen your sons? I haven’t found them yet.”

“Not yet. I wanted to speak with you.” Her hands wrung together in front of her “Your mate-“

“Do not call him that.” He nearly snarled. 

“Eris-“

“And don’t look at me like that either.”

He realized too late the tone he used, his mother looking away with a scowl. 

“You are high lord now, Eris. But I am your mother. Do not command me like that again.” 

Shame washed over him. “I’m sorry I’m- I’m still getting used to it.”

She nodded and sighed. “I came to tell you your mate returned to the Night Court.” 

“Good.” 

He moved around her, determined to leave his chambers. She followed behind him. 

“Good?”

“What do you want me to say?” He stopped at his door and looked at his mother. He watched her scan his face, no doubt to study the pain etched into it. “I am mates with a male. A lesser fae male! Father would-“

“Your father is dead. His opinions died with him.”

“You can say that but you don’t know what it’s like!” 

He raised his voice but he couldn’t help it. His mother didn’t understand. It wasn’t just his father but the whole court. The courtiers and noble families would never accept his rule if they knew. Just like his father would have executed him if he were alive still. 

“I don’t.” She reached out, placing her hand gently on his arm. “But there is a reason he came tonight. He saved my life. He helped you.”

He refused to admit it was out of obligation. Azriel was most likely sent by Rhysand due to their bargain. But saying that aloud hurt too much so he buried it and gave another reason instead. 

“And he will never betray his family. Not when they despise me.” His mother gave him a puzzled look. Eris replied softly. “You know they still blame me for Mor.”

His mother was taken aback. “That was centuries ago. You were a child.” 

“It doesn’t matter to them.” Eris shrugged, moving away from her grasp. “They see what they want to see. What they wanted to see was the male I was under father’s command.”

She scowled. “If they can believe Rhysand is a good male after the horrors he inflicted under the mountain, they can find it within them to believe you are one as well.” 

He scoffed at that but she wasn’t wrong. “I told Azriel the truth of what happened. I don’t think it matters. He would put his family first over an enemy he’s hated for centuries.” 

His mother gave him another look of pity. He couldn’t stand it but bit his tongue to keep from accidentally commanding her. 

“We have a court to address,” he brushed the front of his shirt to give his hands something to do. He needed to change, looking down at himself and seeing soot and burnt cloth. “And I need to find my brothers before they start a rebellion.” 

A glance at his mother, he could tell that accusation hurt her. But his brothers were Beron’s sons through and through.

“Promise me you’ll be fair to them,” she grabbed his arm again. “Please.”

“I will not kill my brothers without just cause if that is what you are implying.” She looked away, shame etched in her features. “They have a chance to prove themselves.” 

There was a beat of silence between them. 

“The body is still in the courtyard.” His mother whispered it, like if she spoke too loudly it wouldn’t be true. “I couldn’t.” She stopped and took a shaky breath. 

“Go find the Captain. He’s one of mine. He will handle it.” 

He ushered her out of his chambers. As much as he wanted to be there for her and remain while she processed this, he had work to do. Maybe she would forgive him in time. She nodded, still not looking at him. He didn't want to say it but he couldn’t let her be fully hopeless. 

“There’s a letter in our cabin, from Helion.” She looked up quickly, hope in her sad eyes that made Eris nauseous again. But he pushed forward. “It’s  unopened. The wards still respond to you. Go find the captain then I suggest you get the letter. It’s in the sitting room.” 

“What about the court?” 

“I will handle it.” 

She smiled at him, hope refreshed. He prayed that whatever Helion put in that letter, it would not disappoint her. One of them deserved some happiness and it wasn’t going to be Eris. She kissed his cheek and departed from him. He gave himself a few more moments alone. Mostly to shove down the hollowness in his chest. 

Eris Vanserra was High Lord of the Autumn Court now and he was about to make it everyone’s problem. 

#Eris is about to be a Menace #off camera tho #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel acotar #eris acotar #eris vanserra #high lord eris #azris #azriel x eris #acotar

[witchybitchy222]

Hi lovely!! Can you please do #2 “I’ve known you since… forever, I can’t imagine life without you.” With Azriel?

Azriel x Reader | Confessions

Based on the above prompt! Short little angst with a fluffy ending!

Warnings: depression, slight allusion to suicidal thoughts

——————————————————————————

Your family meant everything to you. The war with Hybern had threatened everyone you loved, and when it was over, you clung closer to them than ever. And after the birth of your nephew, Nyx, there was an outpouring of love around you that was truly incredible.

Now that things had settled down, everyone had fallen back into their old roles and new lives, but you…. You were lost.

As a kid, you’d never wanted to get married, or have babies. Living in the Hewn City, you knew you’d be married off to some cruel male who only wanted you to secure some alliance with your family and produce heirs. None of that was at all appealing to you and you’d dreaded and avoided it as long as you could. You’d learned to fight and use what little magic you had as a defense, you’d made yourself valuable enough to your father that he overlooked marrying you off for longer than was proper. That, and he was still holding out hope you’d be married to Rhysand.

The High Lord’s family had been close with yours. Your mothers were best friends and you’d spent a lot of your childhood playing with Rhys and his sister. When Rhys inherited his title, he’d taken you out of the Hewn City and your life in Velaris had begun.

Since then you’d been content with your found family and life working alongside the High Lord. But now, things had changed. It felt like everyone was moving on and you were standing still, and somewhere deep inside of you, you wanted a family of your own.

Of course you were more than happy for Rhys, he deserved every bit of happiness he had, and you loved Feyre and Nyx both. But now, not only was your best friend a mate and father, but Cassian was mated, Mor was dating a Valkyrie girl, and even Amren was seemingly happy with Varian. The one that hurt the most though, was Azriel and Elain.

They weren’t technically a couple, but everyone saw how much time they spent together and it was only a matter of time before they became more than friends. Really you should’ve been happy for them, you were happy for everyone else, but when it came to Azriel, your feelings had always been complicated.

You’d known the shadow singer for centuries and you’d always been close. Both of you had had flings and sexual partners, and for the most part you’d been fine with it. Content to let your feelings for him be pushed back and hold on to that spark of hope that he wasn’t in a serious relationship because he returned your feelings.

And then, Elain came along and your hope shattered. You couldn’t even hate her, she was so kind and gentle and she’d been through her own amount of trauma. You’d actually become friends rather quickly, bonding over botany. While Elain loved any and all plants, you focused mainly on herbs, medicines and poisons. She’d been more than happy to dedicate a section of her garden to them, and you’d taught her all you knew about them.

Today you’d been feeling more down than usual. You were slouched in the regular booth at Rita’s, frowning into your drink as your friends danced with their partners, leaving you alone. You knew they didn’t do it on purpose, but you were just so tired of being left out.

You downed the drink and moved across the bar, heading outside for some air. You closed your eyes and leaned against the wall, letting the cool night air wash over you.

“Y/N!” Elain’s voice called out to you. “I was hoping you’d be here tonight!”

You pushed off the wall, giving the female a smile. “You know me, I can never say no to Mor.”

Your eyes flitted behind her where Azriel stood, arms crossed and eyes scrutinizing as usual.

“I would’ve been here sooner, but I had to convince Az to come.” She turned to look at the shadowsinger and he shrugged in response. “I’m gonna go grab a drink, I’ll see you guys inside!” With a twirl of her lilac skirt, Elain disappeared into the club, likely to find her sisters.

Azriel slowly walked over and leaned against the wall next to you. “What’re you doing out here?” He asked, one eyebrow raised.

You shrugged back “just needed some air.”

“Drank to your limit already?” He smirked.

“Not even close” you snorted, nudging him with your shoulder.

You stood together in silence for a few minutes, watching the fae pass by. You knew he could tell you were upset, but you also knew he’d wait until you wanted to talk about it first. That was one thing you loved about Az, he never pried.

“Do you ever feel… out of place?” You asked, eyes sliding to his face.

“Well,” he began, “ I’m a bastard-born Illyrian with no blood relatives who lives with his best friends and their mates… so yeah.” He chuckled.

You rolled your eyes “I just mean…I feel like I’m not meant for this life anymore.”

“Y/N…” he started, his hand gently brushing your face, you turned to him, tears barely contained in your eyes “believe me, I know what you’re feeling. I’ve felt it a thousand times before, but you have to know, we’d all be lost without you. I’ve known you since… forever. I can’t imagine life without you.”

Your tears were flowing freely now as Azriel wrapped his arms around you, your head resting on his chest, wings cocooning you.

“Thanks Az, you’re the best.” You said with a sniffle.

“Mhmm” he said, hand rubbing circles on your back. “What’s got you feeling this way Y/N, I don’t want you to go down that path.”

You sighed, knowing he wouldn’t be satisfied with anything but the truth. “ I feel like everyone has their place, their person, and I’m just here. Rhys and Feyre are parents, Mor is finally being her true self, Amren has actually been showing affection towards someone, hell, even Cas is mated.” You looked up at him briefly, his attention fully trained on you before closing your eyes against his chest again. “And you have Elain.”

“Elain?” He asked, pulling back to look at your face.

“Don’t try and hide it Az, everyone knows it’s only a matter of time before you’re together” you scoffed.

“What would ever make you think that?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“It’s obvious” you said, stepping out of his arms. “You’re always together, laughing and telling secrets” you tried to keep the bitterness from your voice.

You looked up at him and he laughed, he actually laughed at you.

“Y/N,” he smiled at you, “do you know why I’m here tonight?”

You frowned, was this a trick question? “Because Elain wanted you to come…” you said slowly.

“Yes, Elain wanted me to come,” he said, stepping closer to you, “she wanted me to come and spend time with you. She’s been trying every chance she gets to push us together because she figured out how I feel about you.”

“Az” you breathed, staring up at him wide-eyed .

“Ideally this isn’t how I would’ve told you, but, Y/N, I’m in love with you, and I think I always have been.”

Your whole world stopped at his confession, your heart sped up, and your body moved of its own accord. Before you even realized it you were grabbing his shirt and pulling him to you, your face tilting up to press your lips against his. Azriel sighed against you, his hands snaking around your waist, pulling you closer.

“I love you” you murmured between kisses, and he moved his body to press you against the wall, tongue entering your mouth, making you moan. The feel of his body pressed against you, his lips on yours was almost too much, and then suddenly it’s like fireworks were going off inside you, golden and sparkling. You pulled back and looked into those hazel eyes and suddenly you knew. Azriel was your mate.

You had to be grinning like an idiot but you didn’t even care because the pure joy you saw on his face matched the warmth you felt inside.

Azriel leaned his forehead against yours, letting out a soft laugh, “my mate” he grinned.

You reached up and placed a quick kiss on his lips, “I think we should go in and thank Elain.”

Taglist:

@kayla26 @augustinerose @strawbwebbie @judig92 @bankerfrog @meritxellao

@amdiriel @kristalhi @everyonehatescarmen

@reareaikea @nothxney @toothhurtyam @goldentournesol

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #azriel x reader #witchybitchy222 #mine #azriel #send me asks #azriel x female reader

[azsluttyslut]

Priority

Azriel x Gwyn

Summary: I don’t want to be a choice, not to you, not to anyone. I want to be a priority and you can’t give me that

TW: Depression, nightmares, unrequited love (barely), mentions of SA.

Word Count: 3331

Gwyn POV

Looking at the ceiling has become an habit of the young priestess in the long hours of the night, her nightmares had become worse with each passing day, or was it just her nightmares? Maybe is the mating bond. How can someone be so attuned with another? That’s a question she ask herself every day. Gwyn has been infatuated with the shadowsinger after he rescued her, she never gave it to much thought, she wasn’t someone he would ever go for. So why the mother had to choose her for someone so powerful? She remembers the day it snapped as if was yesterday

-Flashback-

The day of Nesta and Cassian's mating ceremony was beautiful but laughable at the same time, laughable because knowing her sister she did want extravagant but not this extravagant, that has to be the High Lord's making as a thank you. Nesta told her and Emerie everything that happen when she left the blood rite. And since then the oldest Archeron haven’t had the trouble look she used to have.

She’s been more peaceful more relax, she still has the same fire she used to have, that haven’t changed at all. Gwyn is happy that her friend has found happiness after everything. And she knows that she will have her turn, but she’s not ready yet. She doesn’t trust males, well she does but just two the one who saved her and her friend’s mate. But there’s still so much work to do before she can be herself again for the outside world and not just for her sisters by choice.

Sisters.

She misses her sister all the time, and nobody would take her place ,ever, she sometimes wonder it Catrin would be proud of her? She will never know the answer to that, she wishes that she was stronger back then, that she could have saved her, but she wasn’t and she couldn’t, it still haunts her every now and then. More often than not. Before she can dwell in dark thoughts she looks up when Night Court music starts to play, announcing Nesta's entrance. She looks beautiful with a white dress, it fits her body like a glove, with silver accents that makes her look ethereal with a slit that goes from the side of her waist to the floor, adding at her sides a train skirt.

She’s so happy for Nesta, so proud of who his friend has become, scanning the guest to look for their reactions her eyes settle on the shadowsinger, who isn’t looking at Nesta at all, he’s looking at Elain the middle Archeron. With so much adoration, a look that she mirrors, one of his shadows swirl around his ear, as if whispering a secret, making his eyes snap to hers, all the while his walls shot up, masking himself in a cool calm manner. They look at each other for what feels like forever.

The eye contact made her nervous but the moment Gwyn was going to give him a small smile the bond snapped, making her eyes go wide looking at him, but just as quickly she managed to regain her composure, making Azriel shot her a puzzled look, to which she just waved her hand as nothing happened, giving him a tight smile while looking at the ceremony again, noticing that it only snapped to her.

-End of the Flashback-

When the bond snapped the priestess was terrified, with time it became an entity beside her altogether, she feels everything that he feels, specially the pain and panic at nighttime, making it feel like her own, but sometimes are her nightmares, and sometimes his. The first time she saw the nightmares that haunt him she throwed up what she ate dinner that night. She couldn't believe how someone could be so cruel to a child, children are gifts from the Mother. They should be protected, she was living proof of that, after all she let her sister died to protect them, she was punished for that too.

It’s been 6 months since it snapped, she has been avoiding her mate as much as she can, she hasn’t told anyone, she still goes training with the Valkyries, when the spymaster tries to talk to her she makes excuses about having a lot of work in the library which is not exactly a lie, but the lack of sleep is taking a toll on her, Merrill has been extra hard on her, saying she’s slacking and what kind of priestess she is if she could not do her job properly. Everything is starting to become too much as of late. The light peaking from the curtains of her room announce that its morning, adding to it another day without sleep.

Jumping out of bed with a sigh while going to her dresser to look for her leathers for training, the necklace hanging on one of the hooks on the wall caught her eye, the necklace Clotho gave her. She knows it’s from Azriel, the day he left the necklace to Clotho she was searching for her, and she saw the shadowsinger handing the necklace to the other priestess. When the priestess gave Gwyn the present she was happy, no body aside from other priestesses have gave her a gift, and the thoughtfulness of the spymaster made her smile, she never thanked him, because when it was given to her Clotho just said “it’s from a friend” but just like the hood and the evoking stone, she felt like she didn’t deserve to wear something so beautiful. She almost did wear it on Nesta's mating ceremony, but decided that it was better that she didn’t, later she realised that the gift given to her was a rejected gift from another.

The rose pedant scream Elain, the delicately pedant represents the female, Nesta mentioned that her sister loves flowers and spends most of her time tending her gardens, Gwyn should have realised it sooner, she feels stupid that she didn’t. With shaky hands she takes the necklace, she should give it back, no, she will give it back, even tho Azriel doesn’t know they are mates and is in love with Elain, she will not be a second choice and she will not be the one he has to settle for when he realised about the bond.

She was never one to believe that she would be lucky, to find her mate. But the Mother gave her one, she’s grateful for the generosity of the Mother, but before she bounds herself to a man forever, she wants to live first. Not with males, she’s not ready for that, but she doesn’t want to be the shell she becomes when she’s out of the comfort of either the library or the House of Wind when she’s with Nesta and Emerie. With that thought she goes earlier than the other to confront the Shadowsinger knowing that he’s going to be there early as always. But nothing would’ve prepared her for what she found.

Arziel POV

“You’ve been avoiding me?” The sweet voice of Elain drifts to his ears, his shadows alerted him from that fact before vanishing, they tend to do that in her presence, he didn’t understand why, he turns around to look at her, she’s beautiful, there’s no doubt about it. But he doesn’t feel the infatuation he used to had on her, maybe Rhys was right after all. He knows he has the tendency of pinning after unavailable female, and even tho Elain was a willing participant, he did it anyways knowing it was wrong.

“No, I haven’t” he lies smoothly, voice calm and collected as always “I've just been busy, with missions and training your sister, Emerie, Gwyn and the priestesses” he looks at her waiting for her reaction, it comes in a form of a frown and pursed lips.

“That never stopped you before for seeking me out” Elain huffs, getting annoyed at the indifference of the shadowsinger,or rather being on the receiving end of it, he has never seen her annoyed by anything, with Lucien it isn’t annoyance, is defiance against the Mother for not giving her a choice, and the thing is she chose someone that was just there, him, it’s funny he also defy the Mother after Solstice, when Rhysand had interrupted the almost kiss between them. But he realised that there’s no escaping fate, so he let go of Elain, he thought it was going to be hard, but it wasn’t, it has been one of the easiest things he have ever done actually.

Specially when he started to spend time with certain priestess, sometimes while helping her train, others when he used to go to the library looking for information for his mission, he made sure to always seek Gwyn, he likes her, likes the peacefulness it brings him when he’s with her, it feel like every sound, every insecurity, every thought goes out of the window as if it wasn’t there in the first place. His shadows love being surrounded by her too. At first he thought she bewitched her with her nymph heritage, but when he got to know her, he knew it wasn’t that, and that she wouldn’t do that either, it was just her. Everything about her is beautiful inside and out, their friendship had blossom after that same solstice, in the training room, that night he saw her and didn’t look away to anyone anymore. But she has been avoiding him, since his brother’s mating ceremony, for the last 6 months, but who’s counting, right? Not him for sure.

“As i told you I’ve been busy, I’m not trying be mean here Elain, but i have more important things to do than being with you, I have to go to mission to make sure everyone in this court is safe from harms way. That’s my duty as spymaster of this court” Azriel says oh so softly, trying to pacify her, and not upset her even further than she already is, if the redness of her face is any indication of it.

“You can just used me and then toss me aside like I’m just some joke to you Azriel?” she raises her voice in outrage.

“I never used you Elain, you on the other hand did. I was just a form of rebellion you used against fate, so sorry if I don’t want to be that for you anymore” he knows he’s not being fair, but it’s better this way, he prefers she hates him than go back to whatever they were doing, plus he knows that he would never be someone as pure as the middle Archeron could handle be with. His darkness will consume her until she becomes a shell of herself trying to save him from something he cannot be safe. Yes, she has her traumas but his traumas go from his childhood to his everyday. He’s not proud what he do for living but it takes something off his brother’s back so he’s happy to help Rhys with whatever he needs, even if this soul gets fracture after every mission. Maybe that’s why the Mother hasn’t bless him with a Mate because she know he destroys everything he touches.

Giving him an accusatory glare the female says “It’s because of her right?” As if she saw this outcome before anyone, and maybe she probably did. She’s a seer after all.

“Who are you referring to?” He’s confused beyond belief.

“CAMILA”

“Gwyneth, the nymph priestess” the tone in her voice makes him boil, she speaks of her like the young priestess is dirt under her shoe. And he would not allow her to speak of Gwyn that way or anyone for that matter, because he know how it feels being on the receiving end of that degrading tone. He hears it in every mission, which makes him more furious. But his mask of cool calmness doesn’t crack, he mastered that mask along time ago, not even his brothers can read him most of the time, so he’s sure she will not be able to either.

“You do not speak about her or anyone in that way Elain, just because you were spoiled all your life, it doesn’t mean you can treat people however you like. Because trust me the mask of innocence you wear doesn’t look good on you, you have fool everyone around you, but from all the time we used to spend together showed me a lot of things about you, so you want to treat people like dirt under your shoe go somewhere else, because i will not let you treat people that way in this Court, understand?” He’s impressed with himself of how calm his voice sounded, because he’s raging inside, it feels like hot lava is travelling inside his veins.

Poking his chest with her index finger and a red face full of rage she spits “You’re such an as-” A throat clears behind cutting Elain off and causing them to advert their gazes, Azriel locks eyes with teal eyes, Gwyn eyes, they are breathtaking in every sense of the word beacause specially in that moment they did knocked the air out of his lungs when the bond snapped. The shasowsinger takes a step back as if he was punch on his gut. Staring at Gwyn with his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, trying and failing to know what to say to her, he blames his shadows for his idiotic ways for not warning him about Gwyn’s presence, again.

Elain glares at Gwyn with a look can only be described as fury, making her mask of innocent, sweet Elain crack, he wonder what he saw in her? Not because he has a mate now, but because he saw the ugliness Elain has inside, the jealously, viciousness, the unadulterated rage and hate. He saw it crack multiple times, but even then he was there for her, because he knew she wasn’t meant to be for him, he can’t fix her traumas even if he wanted to, and its not his burden to fix, it never was, but he feels less like a monster when trying to save people.

“Am I interrupting something?” Gwyn says looking between Azriel and Elain, trying to decipher what is going on between the two.

“No”

“Yes, you are” they answer at the same time.

“No, Gwyn, you aren’t this conversation is over” adhering his eyes for his now mate to look at Elain “Elain hel, we’ve been over before we even began all those months ago, as i told you before, i will not be the shield you hide behind to avoid your mate, I’m tired of it, and for what i said before, you will respect this Court whether you like it or not. So please leave before Nesta and the other arrives, I don’t have time to explain why are you here in the first place” his voice is emotionless while at the same time is exasperated, he’s tired of repeating things as if talking to a toddler. Well, she’s most certainly acting like one.

With a scoff the middle Archeron storm out of the training room, knocking her shoulder with the young priestess one, maybe thinking Gwyn would stumble, but she doesn’t move an inch, just looking amused and confused, not knowing what to make about the situation in front of her.

“Sorry you had to be here to witness that” The Shadowsinger says to her softly as not trying to scare her away, knowing that they are mates, he wonders if she knows.

“Don’t worry Shadowsinger, I’m here early because I wanted to return something to you” her voice strong and confident, while reaching for her pocket and taking out a necklace, that he recognises immediately, making him freeze in spot. He told Clotho not say it was for him, and he’s pretty sure she didn’t.

Still frozen in place he ask “How do you know it was from me and why are you giving it back? I gave it away for a reason” Looking anywhere but her knowing exactly why he gave it away, and for the looks of it she does too, but he just want to be certain, to know how much he messed up.

“I was looking for Clotho that day, when I was about to round the corner i heard you saying to her to give it to me, I didn’t know what it was, but after I heard that i left” Taking a deep breath, before continuing, her expression a mixture of sadness and resignation “I’m giving it back because I know it wasn’t meant for me, I know you know we are mates Azriel, I felt your rush of emotions when it snapped to you, I came here to give you back something that was never mine, and now that you know, my only request is give me time, I’m not ready to be mated, and for the looks of it you aren’t either, I don’t want to be a choice, not to you, not to anyone. I want to be a priority and you can’t give me that” she finishes and deflates like there’s a world hanging from her shoulders, Azriel’s heart is pounding nonstop, blood rushing to his ears, sweat coating his shaky hands, not knowing what to say. He didn’t think his mate would be someone like Gwyn, she’s a fucking angel, who didn’t deserve what happened to her, but he can see why they are equals, both of them won the Blood Rite, both of them have trauma that haunts their dreams and both of them need to heal before they can start. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t pain him what she said, he shouldn’t have give her that forsaken necklace, but he did and now he has to live with it.

‘I’m sorry for giving you something meant to another, I don’t have any excuses, the only thing i can do is apologise, I’ll give you as much time and space as you need, but before that i have something to tell you, you were never an option, i gave you that necklace not just because it was rejected, but because you deserve something beautiful after what happened to you, that was my thought when i gave Clotho the necklace, and you are a priority, you haven’t realised it but after that night on solstice i tried to spend a lot of my time with you, I was consumed by you, by the peace you bring to me, I didn’t know why, but now i do, I’m not asking you to stay and make things work, all I’m asking is for you to come back to me when you are ready, because I’ll be waiting even if you decide that you don’t want me, I know I’m not worthy of you, hel I’m not worthy of anything good, but if you decide to give me a chance, give us a chance, I’ll try and be someone worthy” he vows to her, looking straight to her eyes and sending all his emotions through the bond, showing her how much he means every word out of his mouth.

The redhead female adverts her eyes, not able to look in those hazel eyes, knowing that if she looks her decision will change “You are worthy Azriel, how you see yourself just proves how you are not ready for this, the two of us have our own issues to heal before we can be anything, our perception of ourselves are not good, I’ll continue training, we will see each other often, but for the time being we have to go our separate ways.” With that the priestess turn around and left when the others start to fill the training room, leaving Azriel’s heart and soul a little more fractured, but he vows to start to be better, for her, and for him.

A/N: sorry lovers, I’ve been really busy with uni stuff, I had this in drafts for the last two weeks incomplete, and i just finished it now! Enjoy and as i said before I appreciate any constructive criticism and feedback. Oh and I’m not sure if there will be just a part two or more parts. Thank you 🫶🏼

#azriel shadowsinger #acotar #cassian #gwynriel #nesta acotar #gwynriel supremacy #azriel spymaster #azriel angst #gwynriel angst #gwyn acotar #gwyneth berdara

[darling-archeron]

Masterlist

On My Mind, In My Heart

Summary:

Elain Archeron is tired. Tired of tiptoeing around people, tired of sleepwalking through life. Luckily, a diplomatic trip to the Summer Court gives her a much-needed chance to see the world beyond the Night Court. There’s only one problem - Lucien is there too, and she can’t avoid him forever. When he catches her alone, it will give them the chance to begin something new - or to tear it all down.

3.7k words, rated G.

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As Elain sat through dinner, she realized she didn’t quite regret coming on this trip. It was a surprise, considering she had been expected to be wracked with dread and anxiety the whole time.

The Summer Court was beautiful this time of year, even if the heat was stifling. The sea breeze provided blessed relief, a distraction from the sweat slipping down her spine. A distraction from the other things prickling her, too.

Four years ago, if someone had told her she would trade the town's ballrooms for three nights aboard a High Lord's pleasure barge, she would have laughed in their faces. And yet, here she was.

She was on a diplomatic trip on behalf of the Night Court to the Summer Court. In honor of newly forged alliances and successful efforts to rebuild Adriata, courtiers from Night, Day, Dawn, and Winter were spending three days coasting along the Court’s sunny shores.

The first night had passed by uneventfully. It was the kind of thing Elain was used to. Playing the entertainer, laughing and smiling along with these people she didn’t care enough about to know. They were on the second night now, over half way through the trip.

Presently, she was seated next to a nosy Dawn Court noblewoman named Haldyne. They had been making pleasant small talk for most of the lengthy dinner.

“I must say, I was surprised to see none of The Night Court’s inner circle with us. You’ve brought such a small party,” Haldyne remarked.

“Ah, yes. The High Lord and Lady are excited about this progress, but, their attentions were needed elsewhere,” Elain said carefully. “I hope my company will suffice.”

Altogether, there weren’t more than thirty guests, but the Night Court’s party was by far the smallest. She wouldn’t have thought it would be so hard for a High Lord and Lady to find suitable diplomats, but options for attendees on this trip were sorely limited.

Rhys and Feyre had their hands full between managing the court and their baby. Cassian had been pardoned for destroying a building, but Feyre thought it best not to push it. Azriel would likely scare the shit out of half of the people there – as would Amren. This was not meant to be a match of political intimidation, but one of goodwill and peace. Mor had planned to come, but she had been unavoidably detained by some minor disaster on the continent.

Fortunately – or unfortunately, depending on how charitable Elain was feeling – this was a relatively unimportant trip, meaning the Night Court could manage with just sending two representatives.

Her, and Lucien.

The movement of his red hair caught in her peripheral vision. He was seated diagonally from her, chatting up one of Kallias’s cousins. If she looked past Lady Haldyne just right, she could get a glimpse of him.

He looked handsome tonight, she had to admit. His hair had been neatly braided, and he wore tight-fitting pants with an embroidered white and gold tunic that brought a glow to his brown skin. If she looked closely, she could glimpse rings shining on his fingers.

Not that she was looking all that closely, of course.  

So far, they had managed the trip well. As well as could be expected when they had barely spoken before this week, despite him being constantly in the orbit of her thoughts. He had winnowed them onto the palace grounds, holding her hand stiffly. From there, they had made a point to only speak and touch when necessary. Their rooms on the ship were next to each other, but not adjoining, thank goodness.

Since they were here to talk to other people, and the other delegations far outnumbered their own, there hadn’t been much need to speak with each other. They could both hold their own in all sorts of social settings.

Although, that didn’t explain why her wretched thoughts kept drifting back to him.

It doesn’t matter that this trip is with Lucien. It could be with Mor, Cassian, or Rhys, and it would all be the same. We are nothing to each other. This means nothing. She repeated the words over and over in her mind, thanking her lucky stars Lucien wasn’t a daemati like Rhys. Feyre had told her several stories that involved Rhys slipping into her mind unannounced before they were mated – often with embarrassing results. She couldn’t imagine such a thing with Lucien.

“I’m sorry to hear that your Court is so busy. I hope nothing too troubling?” Haldyne pried. In all honesty, she might have meant well, but Elain knew she could never be too careful.

“Not at all. We’ve had much to celebrate these past months.”

“Yes, allow me to extend my congratulations on your court’s new heir.”

From the corner of her eye, she watched Lucien turn to speak with someone across the table. Within seconds, the other person had their head thrown back in laughter, no doubt from some amusing little remark Lucien had made.

“Thank you, it’s appreciated. I’ll relay the message to my sister.”

Trying as much as she could to maintain eye contact with the courtier, she kept glancing at Lucien. It was stupid and shouldn’t have mattered, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

Suddenly, Lucien turned towards her, and their eyes locked. There was a tight yank on the string between them, and it sucked her breath out of her lungs as it pulled taught.

She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her

“Are you alright, Lady Elain?” Haldyne asked her, hazel eyes darkened with concern as she twisted around to see what Elain had been looking at.

Elain swallowed, searching for coherent words. Damn faeries, and their damn bonds and instincts.

Mate, mate, mate.

Mine.

The female turned back to Elain, a knowing gleam in her eye. Of course, it was common knowledge that they were mates.

“I think I could use some fresh air. My apologies – I’ll be back in a moment,” she said, tossing her napkin on the table before she could hear something she didn’t want to. Her knee banged against the table as she stood.

Shit, that hurt. 

Painfully aware of all the eyes on her, she hurried out of the room with her cheeks blazing, trying to remember the layout of the boat. Down would take her to their rooms, up would take her to the deck…which way was the staircase?

Turn after turn, she finally located the staircase that took her up to the top level. The scent of the sea washed over her as she stepped out onto the deck.

The sun was beginning to set, casting the pearlescent color of the floor and sides with a rather enchanting glow. Another thing she would never have found in the human realms – even now, she couldn’t name the strange material the boat was made of. She made a note to ask someone from the Summer Court later.

She made her way over to the high railing encircling the deck. From her position, she could see Adriata in the distance – they were keeping close to the shore. The clear sea sparkled below her.

Alone at last, she released a long sigh.

It was peaceful out here, and this was the first time she had been alone in hours.

Cauldron, she had spent all day in Lucien’s orbit. It had happened before, of course, at Court functions and family events, but always under the snooping eyes of Feyre and her court.

This shouldn’t have been any different. She was simply trading a Solstice with the Inner Circle for a cruise with fae nobility.

Get it together, Elain. Lucien is nothing to you. You’ve been civil to each other, and that is enough. 

She had to get him out of her head. It was incredibly embarrassing, the way everyone knew that there was a bond between them. If it happened again tonight, it wouldn’t have been the first time someone she barely knew made a sly remark about the whole thing.

Though the bond had never drawn taught like that purely from eye contact. Even now, she could feel the lingering tension in her chest.

She didn’t care about Lucien and his clever remarks. She didn’t care that he never made those remarks to her. She didn’t care that she never let him close enough for him to even try.

A breeze whipped across the deck, splashing salt spray on her skirt and teasing a few strands of her hair from her braid.

These past few months, things had been…stagnant. Accepting the loss of her old life had been hard, but she had begun to move past it. But she still didn’t have much of a new life, either. All of the roads seemed to point back to Lucien, and she didn’t know how to feel.

Suddenly, a shiver crept up her back, giving her the sense that she wasn’t alone.

Couldn’t she have five minutes of peace?

Let it just be a servant checking on me. 

Even as she thought it, she knew it wasn’t true. The ache in her chest had tightened again.

Letting go of the railing, she turned around to see Lucien.

Why had he followed her up here? He never followed her, never chased after her. He was so respectful of her boundaries that it almost hurt. And yet he picked now to come after her?

There was nowhere to run. The boat was large, yes, but not large enough that she could flee without making an obvious statement. He stood at the threshold of the stairs, watching her.  

“Am I needed downstairs?” she asked, straightening herself even as she turned back to face the waves. Maybe if she pretended to be unbothered, he would leave her be.

Would it be so bad if he didn’t? That intrusive little voice in the back of her skull nagged at her.

“You’ve been flitting around all afternoon. They’ll survive your absence for a few minutes,” Lucien said. He crossed the deck to stand by the railing as she was doing, six feet down from her. For a moment, neither of them said anything as they watched the waves below.

“Why are you here?” Lucien finally asked, bracing his muscular forearms against the railing.

“I wanted some fresh air. It was too stuffy on the lower levels,” she replied. “I hope Tarquin isn’t bothered by my absence.” 

“I’m sure Tarquin is managing just fine. But you know that’s not what I meant.”

I don’t think you know me at all.  

“If you mean to ask why I’m on this barge, it’s because Feyre asked me to come.”

“And do you do everything Feyre asks of you?” Lucien challenged.

“She is my sister. And there was no one else.”

“You never deny Feyre when she needs you,” he mused.

Elain shot him a sharp glance. “I would hardly say that’s true. But what of it?”

Lucien only shook his head, wordless. A few strands of his autumn-gilded hair had come loose from his braid, catching in the light of the setting sun.

When Feyre had approached Elain about coming, Elain could tell without her seer abilities that her sister expected her to say no. Even now, she was probably waiting to hear if disaster would strike and Elain would chicken out. Three days in Adriata aboard Tarquin’s pleasure barge – with Lucien? Nowhere to escape but the open water?

She hadn’t let herself think about why she had said yes to Feyre’s request.

Elain realized she had lost herself in her thoughts again. Silent for too long.

“Why are you here?” she retorted. “Not on this trip, but here – on this deck.”

“The same reason as you. It’s too stuffy down there,” he responded, but with such glib in his voice that Elain knew it wasn’t the truth.

She itched to call him out on it, but she would be the biggest hypocrite alive to do so. Silence fell again as she scrabbled for anything else to say, and came up woefully short.

It was just…he was so polite. Just like everyone was with her. She knew he wasn’t like that with everyone – he threw back and forth sarcastic remarks with Feyre all the time.

It was ridiculous. At every turn, people were telling her to just talk to Lucien. It shouldn’t have been hard. Back when she was human, one of her friends had told her she could make conversation with the shrubbery. And she had been doing a fine job of chatting up her fellow guests minutes before.

It was different with the male before her. There was no room for frilly formalities and small talk with him. Not when silence had defined their relationship for so long, and there was so much that needed to be said.

All of the sudden, a burst of restless energy pulsed through her. Enough silence. She was Elain Archeron. She could charm anyone when she put her mind to it. The least she could do was make some sort of attempt at conversation. It didn’t have to mean anything more.

“The sky is lovely tonight,” she said, aware that they were both looking up at the darkening heavens.

“I suppose, though it all pales in comparison to the Night Court, I suppose,” Lucien pointed out.

Elain shrugged. “Perhaps. But I’ve never been stargazing in Summer before. I like the unfamiliar, sometimes.”

“The Autumn Court may not be good for much, but their sunsets are beautiful. I’m sure Rhys would disagree with me there, too, but I think they’re beyond compare.”

“Perhaps I’ll have to see them, sometime,” Elain remarked.

Faintly, Elain began to hear a lively, unfamiliar tune from down below.

“The dancing’s started,” he said.

“Don’t let me keep you,” she insisted with a wave of her hand. “Truly, I just needed some fresh air. I’ll be fine.”

“What makes you think I want to go back down there and deal with them?” he said softly, stepping closer – so he wouldn’t be overheard, Elain assumed. He smelled like cinnamon.

She raised a brow. “I’ve heard you’re a passable dancer. And they’re not so bad, down there.” 

Lucien’s mouth twitched, and he made a sound that half sounded like a laugh. “Who told you I’m a passable dancer?”

“Feyre mentioned it.”

Lucien scoffed. “The last time Feyre saw me dancing, she was drunk on faerie wine at the Summer Solstice celebration in the Spring Court. I would hardly count that as a reliable endorsement.”

Half a dozen mindless phrases to end the conversation gracefully came to the tip of her tongue, but she paused.

Lucien was fun to talk to, she realized. It had been a long time since she had someone who would play these verbal games with her. These days, she was always skating through things, half paying attention. Never really trying. 

Maybe it was time to change things.

“So, is Feyre’s estimate too generous? Are you a poor dancer?” Elain challenged. Truthfully, she couldn’t imagine Lucien as anything but utterly graceful, gliding across the dance floor.

“I am an excellent dancer, Elain. Ask anyone who was sober.”

“Well, you better go and prove it downstairs. I’m sure there’s someone still looking for a partner. You can prove to everyone you won’t trample their toes.”

She meant it all in jest, but Lucien paused for a long moment, hands braced against the ship’s railing. He turned away from the sea and towards her. She made herself hold his gaze – one eye russet, one gold. 

When he finally spoke, his tone was as light as ever. “Are you really so desperate to get rid of me?”

She froze. All of this had been a light conversation, jesting while skating around anything too serious. There was a truthful question embedded in his last words.

The truth, Lucien, is that I can’t think straight when you’re near me. 

“I don’t mind you being here. But you shouldn’t feel obligated to chase after me when you think something’s wrong.”

Lie and truth, skating a very thin line.

Indignation flared in his gaze. “I never said a thing about obligation.”

“You know precisely what I’m talking about.”

That lit a fire in his gaze. “So, you wish to bring the bond you resent into this at last? Yes, I know about it all too well. And we both know that I have never chased you down. I have left you to sit in silence, as you have wished. Just this one time, I thought I would make sure you were still alright. Can I not be obligated to you as something other than a mate? As a fellow emissary?”

“No! How can you, when everything else is dwarfed in comparison to this?”

Oh, she was making him angry now. This was quickly turning into an argument, and she didn’t quite know how it had happened. Nor did she wish to stop it. Not entirely.

“Why even bother coming on this trip, then? If there can be nothing between us other than a bond you don’t want?” he spit back. His tone was angry, but he kept his distance physically. She noted his posture was tense, but not aggressive.

“I came on this trip because I wanted to try!” she said, realizing as she said it how loud her voice was getting. Frustration thrummed through her. How could she make him understand she was making an effort, however unapparent?

 “Again – you’ve been avoiding me the entire time, same as you have all these years. How is that getting either of us anywhere?”

“Can you blame me for reacting like I did?” she shot back, throwing her hands out. “I know this hasn’t been everything you wanted. Can you honestly say that if I had run into your arms after the bond snapped, no reservations, that you would have been ready for it?”

“No, I can’t say that. But I’ve always been honest in my intentions.”

“What do you want from me, then?”

“I want you to be honest, too.”

Of course, he did. She couldn’t even be mad at him for it.

That realization had her anger fading away as quickly as it had come. Here they were, both trying to understand each other at last. Wasn’t this what she had wanted? An unfiltered, real conversation?

“You want the truth?” she said softly. “The truth is that we’ve both made mistakes, but you’re still assuming one thing wrong.”

“And what would that be?” he asked skeptically.

There was no turning away from this. It terrified her, but she couldn’t lose him – not now. Not like this, during a silly argument that had spiraled out of control.

“You’re assuming that I resent the bond – resent you. That’s not true. I resent how it was thrust upon me, and I resent everyone’s expectations of me. I don’t know how to talk to you because of it. Anyone else, I can make nice with, but I don’t know how to pretend when it comes to you. So the alternative has been to do nothing at all. And by the time I thought I might want to change that, it seemed so impossible. That is the truth.”

He sounded a bit breathless, anger evaporating and being replaced with hope. “What are you saying?”

Carefully, she reached out for his hand. Lucien drew a sharp breath when their fingers made contact, but didn’t pull away as she held his hand and intertwined their fingers.

“I’m saying I do want to try. Truly. I’m not sure I know how to begin. I’ve been a fool in my approach, and I don’t blame you for being angry. But if you’re willing, so am I.”

Cautious joy bloomed on Lucien’s face as he smiled. She couldn’t recall the last time she had seen a true smile on his face – certainly, it was never directed at her – but it was beautiful. He was beautiful.

Her smiles were rare these days, too. But looking towards the future between them, all of it uncertain, she couldn’t help but feel a pulse of excitement – and she smiled back.

Music drifted up from the level below. No doubt the dancing was still going strong.

Lucien looked down at their intertwined hands. Hers, callused from gardening, with a simple bracelet adorning her wrist. His, with rings on nearly every finger and a thick scar across the back of his hand. “Perhaps we could start with something we both know. Will you dance with me, Elain?”

A simple test, to see if she could back up her words.

“It would be my honor,” she said.

He adjusted his grip on her hand and placed his other hand lightly on her waist – and then they were off.

It had been a long time since she danced like this, and at first her feet were a bit clumsy. Lucien was leading her through a dance similar to one popular in the mortal lands, but with some of the steps a bit different. After a bit of stumbling, she began to get a feel for the quick, romantic piece that had them spinning across the deck.

It wasn’t nearly as awkward as she feared. Lucien’s hand fit perfectly against her hip, never straying lower or higher. The sun had nearly set, but she found she could still make out the details of his face in the dim lighting. Another gift she had the fae to thank for.

“So,” he said softly, leading her into a quick turn, “are my dancing skills passable?”

“For now, I can say that suffice. But I think I’ll need more dances to determine it for certain,” Elain replied, a bit surprised by her boldness. She felt the heat rise into her cheeks.

“I’ll look forward to proving to you just how wrong Feyre was,” he said.

“And I look forward to being proven wrong.”

The music faded, and Lucien withdrew from Elain at last. He bowed to her as if they were at a formal ball, and she curtsied to him in turn.

When he kissed her ungloved hand, she had no lies to tell herself about why her heart was beating so fast.

“Until next time, Elain.”

She gave him another small smile. “No more silence, Lucien.”

It was a simple promise, but at last, it was one she felt she could keep.

-

AN: Thank you for reading! Writing Elucien intimidates me a bit, but I had a lot of fun working on this! I’m still working on getting their voices perfect, so please be kind! Reblogs are always very appreciated. <3

Taglist: @thron3ofbooks @the-lonelybarricade @swankii-art-teacher  @ghostlyrose2  @brieq @cretaceous-therapod @live-the-fangirl-life @achernarlight @reverie-tales @starfall-spirit @starswholistenanddreamsanswered

Let me know if you’d like to be added to my general taglist or just be tagged for Elucien fics! If I've tagged you incorrectly here, please let me know as I don't have an elucien taglist yet!!

#elucien #elain x lucien #elucien fic #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses fic #kate's writing #kat's writing #on my mind in my heart

[zorria]

Awe I love how Meliodas made Lancelot go and talk to ban and Elaine because he can’t keep avoiding them forever and he needs to let them know how he’s doing

#nanatsu no taizai #seven deadly sins #nnt manga #nnt #sds #meliodas #lancelot #mokushiroku no yonkishi #four knights of the apocalypse

[wingedblooms]

Two sides of the same coin

two sides of the same coin: two things that are regarded as two parts of the same thing

Azriel’s twining shadows of death and Elain’s twining blooms of spring are two sides of the same coin, bound to become inextricably entwined. Shadow and light, sight and sound, lovers and assassins, and sleep and death. All of these elements have been built up by Sarah and are set to collide in their book. Rhysand himself gave us a sneak peek to their plot as he was explaining the multifaceted nature of darkness to Feyre:

“There is the darkness of lovers, and the darkness of assassins. It becomes what the bearer wishes it to be, needs it to be. It is not wholly bad or good.”

Beyond a flawless and compelling aesthetic, these two are repeatedly linked by Sarah. We’ve been given all the lovely, dramatic ingredients for their story. Read on for all their connections.

1—Hidden: Both Elain and Azriel aren’t fully seen or understood by their family. Their behavior often surprises family members and leaves them puzzled.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing on that face, on his scent. The shadows, whatever the hell they were, hid too well. Too much.

After five hundred years, he’d somehow given up. Cassian couldn’t think why.

Nesta was wrong, Cassian realized, to think Elain as loyal and loving as a dog. Elain saw every single thing Nesta had done, and understood why.

“Elain showed some teeth,” I observed. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

2—Forbidden: Both are forbidden by family from pursuing what they want. And yet they are stubborn, too.

“Why?” Elain demanded. “Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”

“Then go off on adventures,” Nesta said. “Go drink and fuck strangers. But stay away from the Cauldron.”

Rhys growled, “Allow me to make one thing very clear. You are to stay away from her.”

“You can’t order me to do that.”

3—Secret: Both have powers that Sarah loves to compare as they are rare gifts that grant them access to hidden information. Secrets. Equally important, they can also keep this information secret when needed.

“This is Azriel—my spymaster.” Not surprising. Some buried instinct had me checking that my mental shields were intact. Just in case.

“Like the daemati,” Rhys said to me, “shadowsingers are rare—coveted by courts and territories across the world for their stealth and predisposition to hear and feel things others can’t.”

Seer. The word clanged through me. She’d known. She’d warned Nesta about the Ravens. And in the chaos of the attack, that little realization had slipped from me.

It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not … Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood what gift he possessed.

She nodded toward Azriel. “I think she’s got you beat for secret-keeping.”

4—Stealth: Both use stealth and shadow to avoid notice until they are ready to strike [up a conversation].

“What did you see,” Azriel said, and I tried not to flinch as I found him at my other side, not having seen him move. Again.

Azriel stepped out of a shadow. “What is that,” he hissed.

“Feyre?” Elain was again at my side. I hadn’t heard her steps. Hadn’t heard any sound for moments.

Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”

Elain spoke from the doorway, having appeared so silently that they all twisted toward her, “Using me.”

5—Resolve: Neither of them hesitate to act in an emergency, especially when the other is in trouble. They protect each other. [And yes, this is a shift for Elain’s character. She trembled in fear when Feyre was taken, and over the course of the series she’s helped and rescued and murdered for others without hesitation.]

Az hadn’t so much as hesitated before going into the heart of Hybern’s war-camp.

“Chain me to a tree, Rhys,” Azriel said softly. “Go ahead.” He began checking the buckles on his weapons. “I’ll rip it out of the ground and fly with it on my damned back.”

“I’ll do it,” Elain said, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders. She didn’t wait for either of us before she strode out, graceful as a doe.

Azriel’s roar echoed off the rocks as the hound slammed into him, dragging those shredding talons down his spine, his wings— The girl screamed, but Elain moved. As Azriel battled to keep them airborne, keep his grip on them, my sister sent a fierce kick into the beast’s face. Its eye. Another. Another.

6—Pain: They are bonded in pain through their hands: one induces pain and death while the other endures pain to bring forth life. [Azriel’s scarred hands are a source of shame for him; they carry a traumatic past and the pain he inflicts on others in his role. And yet Elain calls Azriel’s hands—scarred hands shrouded in killing power—beautiful and enjoys earning her own battle scars in the garden. A small rebellion against the role she was forced to play to marry well.]

The way he hesitated before he said learned said enough: he’d tortured it out of someone. Many people. Nesta glanced at his scarred hands, and Azriel tucked them behind his back, as if he noted her attention.

He silently handed Nyx to Azriel, who winced at the transfer of this most delicate little creature to his scarred hands, and followed Nesta out the door, into the hall, and down the stairs.

She looked up at him, her face so trusting and hopeful and open that he knew she had no idea that he had done unspeakable things that sullied his hands far beyond their scars. Such terrible things that it was a sacrilege for his fingers to touch her skin, tainting her with his presence.

And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy.

“Don’t forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one’s hands dirty along the way.”

“And torn up by thorns,” I mused, recalling a morning this past summer when Elain had come into the house, her right palm bleeding from several gashes thanks to a stubborn rosebush that had pierced her gloves.

7—Gentle: Both Azriel and Elain are described as gentle. And Elain in particular softens our stone-cold and fearsome Spymaster. [But my head canon is that she isn’t as gentle as she appears, and is rougher around the edges than people expect. She can be both soft and fierce, like the Spymaster, depending on the situation.]

Then Azriel, gently taking Elain’s hand in his own, as if afraid his scars would hurt her.

He set her down gently on the foyer carpet, having carried her in through the front door.

Azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. “Are you hurt?”

He still wore his Siphons atop either hand, and shadows trailed his footsteps, curling like swirled embers, but there was little sign of the warrior otherwise. Especially as he gently said to my sister, “Happy Solstice.”

Azriel’s presence helped. He now trained the newest recruits, quiet and gentle yet unfaltering, and if she didn’t know better, she’d swear at least two of the priestesses—Roslin and Ilana—sighed every time he walked past.

But Elain, the flower-grower, the gentle heart … Nesta would go down swinging for her.

Elain was so gentle, so sweet.

Elain had always been gentle and sweet—and I had considered it a different sort of strength. A better strength. To look at the hardness of the world and choose, over and over, to love, to be kind. She had been always so full of light.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. Elain echoed the words, her voice gentle.

8—Care: Both show that they care by showing up, even when it hurts, and by giving gifts, even when they are poor. And the gifts they give demonstrate the depth of their thoughtfulness and perception. They make others feel seen and loved.

And it hadn’t stopped her from buying me three small tins of paint—red, yellow, and blue—during that same summer I’d had enough to buy the ash arrow. It was the only gift she’d ever given me, and our house still bore the marks of it, even if the paint was now fading and chipped: little vines and flowers along the windows and thresholds and edges of things, tiny curls of flame on the stones bordering the hearth.

From Amren: an illuminated manuscript, ancient and beautiful. From Azriel: rare, vibrant paint from the continent. From Cassian: a proper leather sheath for a blade, to be set down the groove of my spine like a true Illyrian warrior. From Elain: fine brushes monogrammed with my initials and the Night Court insignia on the handles. And from Mor: a pair of fleece-lined slippers. Bright pink, fleece-lined slippers.

“It’s their tradition, though,” Elain countered, her face still flushed with the cold. “One that they fought and died to protect in the war. Perhaps that’s the better way to think of it, rather than feeling guilty. To remember that this day means something to them. All of them, regardless of who has more, who has less, and in celebrating the traditions, even through the presents, we honor those who fought for its very existence, for the peace this city now has.”

She hadn’t bought her mate a present. But she’d gotten Azriel one last year—a headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he’d done every night he’d slept there. Or attempted to sleep there.

“Why did you come if it torments you so much?” “Because Rhys wants me here. It’d hurt him if I didn’t come.” “Well, I think holidays are stupid.” “I don’t.” She arched a brow. He explained, “They pull people together. And bring them joy. They are a time to pause and reflect and gather, and those are never bad things.”

Azriel plucked up the small folded silver wand within and unfurled it. One end held a clip, the other a small glass sphere. “You can attach this to whatever book you’re reading, and the little ball of faelight will shine. So you don’t have to squint when you’re reading at night.”

The golden necklace seemed ordinary—its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, lifting it from the box. The golden faelight shone through the little glass facets, setting the charm glowing with hues of red and pink and white. Azriel let his shadows whisk away the box as she said softly, “Put it on me?”

9—Hope: Their reactions to the future are remarked upon intentionally to emphasize an important contrast. Azriel has had very little reason to hope and plan for a future, unless it involves something he knows he can win [like a snowball fight]. But his love interest, Elain, is the very embodiment of hope and healing. And it is her presence that makes him feel alive and act on his feelings. But Rhys reminds him that it truly doesn’t matter what he wants, and he smothers that rare show of emotion when he is commanded to stay away.

“Do you want a child?” “It doesn’t matter what I want.” Distant words—ones that prevented Cassian from prying further.

Azriel said nothing. He hadn’t gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to.

Azriel tucked in his wings and left without another word, stalking through the house and onto the front lawn to sit in the frigid starlight. To let the frost in his veins match the air around him. Until he felt nothing. Was again nothing at all.

If she beheld not a prison but a shelter—a shelter from a world that had possessed so little good, but she tried to find it anyway, even if it had seemed foolish and useless to me. […] She had looked at that cottage with hope; I had looked at it with nothing but hatred. And I knew which one of us had been stronger.

Elain nodded, smiling up at me, and it was tentative joy—and life that shone in her eyes. A promise of the future, gleaming and sweet.

The Faelights gilded Elain’s unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn.

10—Dark: They share darkness, too, which is often overlooked. The darkness of beginnings and endings, of lovers and assassins: one a healing reprieve and the other a final rest. Like Hypnos and Thanatos, they go together like sleep and death. Beautiful and dangerous, like a poisonous flower in a peaceful garden caressed by night-chilled mist.

Beautiful, but near-unreadable. He’d be the one to look out for—the knife in the dark.

the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife.

Azriel nodded his agreement, his shadows twining around him.

But I let Azriel scoop me up, his scent of night-chilled mist and cedar wrapping around me as he flapped his wings once, stirring the dirt of the courtyard.

“I think I was dreaming,” she murmured. “I think I’m always dreaming these days.”

Slipped from me as reality and dream slipped and entwined for Elain. Seer.

Her tent was dim, and quiet—the sounds of slaughter far away, dreamlike.

The gates to her mind … Solid iron, covered in vines of flowers—or it would have been. The blossoms were all sealed, sleeping buds tucked into tangles of leaves and thorns. […] If Elain’s mental gates were those of a sleeping garden, Nesta’s … They belonged to an ancient fortress, sharp and brutal.

His fingers traced the twining vines of flowers on the second drawer. “Elain’s drawer.”

Her sister’s delicate scent of jasmine and honey lingered in the red-stoned hall like a promise of spring, a sparkling river that she followed to the open doors of the chamber. […] It was soothing and smelled of jasmine, precisely the sort of room she’d have designed for herself if she’d been given the chance. […] She found Feyre and Elain waiting halfway down the hill, Nyx now dozing peacefully in Elain’s arms. Her sisters beamed, beckoning her to join.

Through these connections, Sarah has painstakingly intertwined the characteristics and fates of Azriel and Elain. In the immortal words of Emily Brontë, whatever their [our] souls are made of, his and hers [mine] are the same. And they are bound to come together in the journey ahead, in part because of the obstacles:

Elain has been even more secretive lately, so I suspect she is either already training or trying to track something down on her own. She’s grown bolder and she won’t wait for the approval of her family. Remember, like Azriel, she is unwavering once she plans to do something. She is equally likely to be caught rebelling by the person who is supposed to keep track of all his court’s secrets: our beloved spymaster. He is commanded to stay away but won’t. Because he cannot, not really. They’ll likely strike a bargain and work as a secret team, tracking down things like Bryaxis and the mysterious fourth trove item. Paired with their attraction and care, the suspense and excitement of their missions will inevitably lead to a secret romance.

Death and his lovely fawn, the most graceful and lethal spies Prythian has ever seen. They’ll find healing and hope and home together. Two souls entwined, peacefully asleep—at last—in a shadowed garden bursting with blooms.

#SoundCloud #elriel #pro elriel #elain archeron #pro elain #azriel #elain x azriel #azriel x elain

[nikethestatue]

Elucien’s Bond

And what’s wrong with it?

*crack-ish theory*

This is a theory and an opinion, just based on observations and reading of the text. If you are a huge Elucien fan, you are probably not going to like this.

First things first--I think that the bond is real. I don’t think it’s a fake bond, because Elain literally felt it inside of her when tugged on it. Azriel can smell it. So the base for the bond is real. 

But there are some odd things going on with that bond:

Neither party seems to be struggling with its presence, beyond it being an inconvenience to their other budding romances.

We know that Elain was never into the bond, and her first words to Lucien, when he walked in on her back in HoW was ‘you were there. You betrayed us.” 2 years later, she is even less into the bond, because she’s been avoiding Lucien every time he’s been around, doesn’t use his gifts, ‘shrinks into herself’ in his presence, and of course, now we know that she is interested in Azriel. 

Lucien was definitely more affected by the bond, at least initially. He reacted strongly when Elain was thrown into the Cauldron, and once she was spit out, he gave her his cloak. Now, interestingly though, when Rhys and Mor winnowed them all away from Hybern, Lucien did not attempt to follow, but yelled at Tamlin telling him to ‘get her back!’ Feyre, while in Spring Court, observed that Lucien was not interested in any women as a ‘newly mated male’.

When they returned to Spring Court, Lucien’s first thoughts were about Elain. He wanted to see her, wanted to get to know her, wanted to be in her presence. That was pretty regular mate behavior.

And then came the famous, uncomfortable scene, where Lucien was trying to figure out what was ‘wrong’ with Elain, and they were sitting and not drinking tea, under the supervision of Nesta, Feyre, Amren (I do kind of feel bad for Lucien, not gonna lie), with Rhys and Cassian outside, and Cassian peacocking in front of children Nesta, and her craning her head like crazy. But I digress...

Of course, at that time, none of us were aware of Lucien’s paternity. He is Helion Spell-Cleaver’s son. 

And then, he tugs on the bond. And Elain reacts. 

And after that, things begin to change and unravel for the two of them. 

While before that tug, Elain seemed to have been at least tolerating the thought of him around her, after the tug, things turned a different direction--for her, but also for him.

He volunteered to go find Vassa, soon after, leaving his mate behind. It’s unusual behavior, for a mated male to willingly leave his mate, but let’s say he felt unwelcome, useless, and wanted to give Elain some space. That’s what he told Rhys and Feyre.

Now, let’s go back to what Feyre said--that he wasn’t interested in other females when the bond was new. Fast forward a VERY short period of time, literally a few months, and he is living with Vassa and Jurian. Not only that, he is clearly interested in Vassa, and not just as a friend.

Elain, in turn, was still pining for Graysen, and told him that the bond doesn’t matter and that it ‘means nothing’. Fast forward a few months as well, and by Solstice, she is placing special orders for headache powder for Azriel. 

While we know that the bond is not as strong for females, especially not ‘accepted’ bond, Elain’s is remarkably weak. Let’s take Feyre and Nesta--both were willing to sacrifice themselves for their mates, BEFORE having accepted the bonds. Both went feral and wild when Rhys and Cassian were hurt. Elain, in contrast, saw Lucien go, without any protection into the Human Lands and it seems that she’d never even asked after him, and whether he was alive. He might not have been in any direct danger, but it seems like her bond did not indicate anything to her. Now, we know that SHE was in danger, when Hybern stole her, but Lucien never questioned it, and it seemed that he remained unaware that she was kidnapped.

Furthermore, while we know that Rhys felt Feyre and Tamlin through the bond, and suffered for it, and Cassian was certainly aware, and it’s hinted that he felt Nesta and her paramours as well though the bond, neither Elain, not Lucien seem to notice that the other party is interested in someone other than them. We don’t know what’s going on with Lucien and Vassa, so I don’t want to speculate about a sexual relationship. Obviously by 2nd Solstice we know that Elain and Azriel are interested in each other sexually, but of course they haven’t acted on it.

Yet, while Azriel is nauseated and very greatly affected by the Elucien bond, can smell it and is so traumatized that he can barely stand being in the same room with them--it’s so apparent that even Nesta notices it--Lucien, seemingly feels or senses nothing. The only time he ever reacted to Azriel was in the very, very beginning, when Azriel brought Elain into the townhouse and took her to the garden. ‘Azriel is not the ravishing type,” Lucien was told. 

So, what’s the point of all this?

I wonder if when Lucien pulled on the bond, he unwittingly began to unravel it. Bonds can’t be broken, at least that’s what Amren said, but can they be weakened? It IS a bond, a tie of sorts. Often described as a thread or a string, and that’s what Elain felt--a sting pulled on her rib. It’s a string or a cord that wrapes around couples during consummation.

What if his power--that of a spell-cleaver, inherited from his father--gave him the ability to do just that? Untie the bond? 

And that instead of the rejection, breaking, and all kinds of dramatic things, it will be a gentle un-making of the bond for both of them. To be sure, the thread may remain forever. But perhaps, this is why Elain does not feel compelled to act on it, and doesn’t really care about it at all. Maybe, she stopped feeling it? And so did he? The presence is still there, hence the smell that only apparently Azriel can scent (that’s another post though). But they don’t feel the push and pull of the mating desire, and therefore, neither one wants each other sexually? We know that the bond is primarily sexual in nature, and drives people to extremes and offers endless desire. The Elucien bond doesn’t do any of it, even for Lucien. Sure, he is a well-mannered, polite, cultured male, so he is not going to be ravishing or pressing Elain against the walls, but someone, somewhere, would’ve observed so sexual interest from him towards her. We know that the last time he came to the NC, he didn’t even meet with Elain. Why is his bond not raging inside of him at the close proximity to her?

Finally, Helion. What if Helion, and we assume that LoA is his mate, was able to untie their bond, so it didn’t torment them, when she had made the decision to remain with Beron. Yes, they still acted on it, and the fruit of that acting is Lucien, but perhaps, Helion, not wanting to bring this constant push of the bond on LoA, especially in her situation, was able to loosen it? It also allowed him to be rather amorous as well in his life. 

Now, this is a total speculation (though there was a tiny hint at this in the book). We know that Tamlin did everything to try to nullify the bond between Feyre and Rhys. And he sent Lucien to Helion and other places, to find a method to do just that. Now, if the bonds are so permanent, why would Tamlin--who IS a High Lord after all, and isn’t without knowledge--assume that it could be broken? By someone else? He began, of all people, with Helion. Helion the Spell-Cleaver. He assumed that of all people, it was Helion who might have possessed that power and ability. Helion declined. So Tamlin went to Hybern. But what if Helion does know? And what if Helion maybe told something to Lucien, in passing? And Lucien, maybe even unwittingly, acted on the suggestion?

And what if this weakened bond allowed for another bond to sneak in?

But that’s another post.

#e/lucien #e*lucien #azriel #elain archeron #mate bond #mate behavior #helion #helion and loa #acosf theory #acosf spoilers #acosf #acotar #lucien vanserra #vassien #lucien and vassa #elriel

[gripefroot]

A Court of Dusk and Shadows ❲1❳

The throne was white. 

No - it was every color of a sunset. With the descending sun blazing behind it, it turned gold and orange and pink and purple. New shades spreading across with each passing minute as night crept on. And beneath it - shadows lengthened and spread from the carved base, wild and free. 

The throne beckoned. Come sit, it said to me. Come take your place. 

Beyond the throne were marble pillars that stretched proudly into the sky, woven with vines of moonflowers and orchids. I could not see any roof - dusky clouds obscured the view. And below, far, far below - the sea rippled in shining waves, beating against the island in shimmering hues. Boats with bone-white sails seemed to drift forever. Distantly I could hear voices: voices laughing and talking and teasing and bargaining. The calls of animals, the hammer of forges. 

And everything smelled of salt and fragrant flowers and lemon. 

But I could feel, rather than see, what was making my heart wrench away from the lovely sight. A hand outstretched in front of that throne, leading up to a smiling face clear of sorrow and fear. 

A scarred hand. Extended from the dark, and I knew that between us was where light and shadow met.

Come sit, he said, echoing the throne. Come take your place, and I’ll be at your side forever.

⚘ ⚘ ⚘

The night was an inky black shield dotted with silver and gold. Velaris far below, the stars above and only the whistling wind and thump of his own heart for company: Azriel’s gaze honed in on the House of Wind as he descended, and hoped that none would question his tardiness. 

His boots landed silently on an upper balcony.

Halls were unlit, creeping with silence. The shadows that came with him curled around his neck and ears, whispering that nearly everyone was asleep. There would be no interrogation that night, at least - though breakfast might be another matter. But that would be for the morning. He slipped into his bedroom and closed the door behind him, resting his forehead against the wood panels for several heartbeats before turning wearily away to find his rest. 

A cozy fire had flickered itself to life, the wrought-iron window springing open to let in more of that sweet night air. He lingered only to unstrap himself of weapons, setting them on the table beside his bed as his thoughts skittered and bit at him like hungry wolves. 

Azriel had been gnawed for so long he wondered how they found any part of him left to devour. 

Truth-Teller shone like a void in the light as he pulled it from its sheath, if only to look at it. Scarred thumb tracing over the hilt - with a sigh he shoved it back in, and put it aside. 

The knock on his door was so quiet that he might not have heard it, had the shadows spreading from him not trembled in response. They slithered up the door to turn the knob, his head lifting in a jerk as he scented his visitor - the sweet, heady jasmine that wore itself on her skin like a blessing. Or a spell. 

A click behind her. The door was closed. 

The wolves barked. Azriel turned, hand lifting to rub the back of his neck in an unconscious gesture as he forced himself, as he always had, to keep his expression even. To betray nothing. Even though the sight of her lace robe over a silken, lilac gown that displayed her creamy throat so well was enough to move him to his knees. To say nothing of the loose curls hanging down her back - wanting to be touched. Wanting him to bury his face there and breathe her in until she lived beneath his skin - 

“You were missed,” Elain said. 

“I was occupied,” Azriel said shortly. Her head tilted slightly to the side, and at his glower the shadows that crept curiously around the hem of her nightgown scattered, leaving her free to glow in the golden light of the fire. 

“Why don’t you come to family dinners anymore?” she asked, her voice softer than rain. 

He swallowed. A tremor went through his wings, and he stretched them out slightly to ease the tautness. Her eyes flitted to them over his shoulders. He saw the bob of her throat. “You know why,” Azriel told her in a hoarse, harsh voice. 

Elain lifted her chin, though the expression in her lovely eyes shimmered. “If it’s me you’re avoiding, I’ll stop going,” she said.

“No.”

“You should be with your family. They miss you.” 

“No,” Azriel said again.

“I don’t know how much longer I can attend, pretending that nothing’s wrong with me,” Elain said. “That my heart doesn’t hurt more each time you don’t appear. Azriel,��� she breathed, and his spine stiffened as if brushed with a tender finger from root to tip. “I - I don’t want to go anymore. I don’t want the reminder that you - that you don’t want to see me.” 

Secrets were best whispered alone in the night: Azriel had always known that. Known that honesty could burst out at the right moments, if prodded enough, uncaring of the consequences it could bring.

As for him - the consequence was like a poisoned knife between his ribs, where he felt the emptiest. 

“The best solution is for you to go instead of me,” Elain went on in his silence. “I’ll be happier knowing you are.” 

“I’m not happy,” Azriel said. But she merely lifted her slender shoulders, the lace rustling against the silk. As if she didn’t care to wonder why he’d said it; the extent of what he’d meant. His honesty was kept deeper down and further back. Where it couldn’t hurt anyone who could hurt him. 

“I’m not going to go to family dinners anymore,” she told him. As if her mind was made up. “I hope you do.” 

“You’re hurt when I’m not there,” he said. “No different than I am at your absence.” 

It was all the game. It had to be. The repeating, the declarations, the anguish: pushing at the walls each of them had built around the other, as if looking for weak spots. To crumble, or to build back better. Azriel didn’t know. Something in him was howling. 

Elain’s eyes began to glitter. The shift of the firelight against her hair, the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed - 

Something clattered from elsewhere in the house. Azriel stiffened, wings snapping in as his gaze darted to the door behind her. He ground out between his teeth, “You shouldn’t be here.” 

“I want to be,” she whispered. “I can’t stay away.” 

The jasmine - he realized her scent wasn’t fresh and blooming. He’d noticed it when she first came in. It was heady. Like it had been scorching under the summer sun, begging for water; thirst to be parched, or the petals to be plucked and treasured - 

Azriel’s head spun. The wolves that ate at him yipped and scratched and whined. They wanted. They wanted. 

“If you’re looking for release,” he said in a low growl, fingers clenching into fists at his side. Cracking a whip at himself to quiet the wolves, but still they snarled.  “Lucien Vanserra can be summoned.” 

“I don’t want Lucien,” Elain said sharply. The color was high in her cheeks as she tucked a curl behind one of her delicate ears, the simple motion drawing his attention like a drawn bowstring. “I want you.” 

His next words were difficult, but he forced them out: “Rhys has...commanded that we stay apart.”

“Rhysand isn't my High Lord. I’ve sworn no oath to him.” Her pink tongue darted out to wet her lips. “He can't command me.”

“He commands me,” Azriel said. 

“Then tell him I coerced you. Whatever you need.” The lightness in her voice was pleading. Begging. Her slender hands trembled, eyelashes stark against her skin as she blinked furiously. Desperate. 

“No. I won't let you face censure, or - or punishment - ”

“Not being with you is punishment every day,” Elain cut him off, and Azriel nearly swallowed his own tongue as he saw the glitter in her eyes escape to trail a silver path down her flushed cheeks. “Lucien is punishment for me, isn't he? I was given to someone I don't love. Someone I don’t want. While you are denied to me. Is this not punishment?”

Every fiber in his body wanted to cross the space between them: to reach out, to dry the tears and to hold her in his arms until she stopped trembling. Until that gaping wound beneath his ribs was whole and glowing again - 

Azriel didn’t smile, though the irony wasn’t lost on him. “It feels like it.” 

Her bottom lip quivered. Then, “Please,” in a yearning whisper that started unthreading him from his very bones. The wolves purred as he took a step closer to her. 

“Elain,” he murmured, and she trembled at her name, eyes closing briefly as if to savor it. “They’ll know. It...it can’t be hidden. I’d leave my scent all over you. And you on me. And I’d never, ever want to wash it off.” 

“It’ll wear off,” she said. 

“In days? Weeks? How long will we hide?” 

Elain didn’t answer, and he took another step closer, unclenching his fists as he breathed slowly through his nose. 

“It's not just that, either,” Azriel said, and her head was tilting upwards to watch him, hungry and hot as he towered over her. “Once I have you...I won't be able to stop wanting to have you. Over and over again, in every way imaginable. I don't want to live another day on this earth without tasting you on my tongue. Smelling you on my skin. Feeling you. I would…” 

He trailed off, realizing that the night had somehow wrung more honesty from him than he’d ever intended. Her eyes blazed up at him, and daring, he lifted a hand to rest his scarred fingertips on the lace at her breast, beneath which he could feel the rapid pulse of her heartbeat. 

“I would want to be here, inside of you.” 

“Please,” Elain whispered again, barely more than a warm breath that brushed against his face like a shadow - but those stayed back. “Please, Azriel. I'm not afraid. Not of Rhys, not of Lucien. I'm afraid....of what my life will be without you. I'm afraid of wanting you for the rest of my life with no hope of having you.”

Her fingers curled over his on her breast, cool to the touch and he shivered head to toe as her thumb stroked along a rippled, white scar. Not even noticing it, with her eyes melting so intently as she stared at him. Lips slightly parted, only a few inches from his and ready to be tasted, and savored and worshipped. 

“Even if you refuse,” she went on, pressing his hand tighter to the skin-warmed lace. “You’ll always be here, where you always have been." 

“There’s nothing in me that can deny you,” Azriel said. Swallowed. “Elain.”

“Azriel…” 

“You could ask me to tear down Ramiel with my bare hands and I would,” he breathed. “I would tear apart any part of this world. If you asked me to carve out my own heart, I would.”

“I’m not asking for that,” Elain said gently. Mirror of him, her slender hand brushed up his chest - a shudder enough to cause an earthquake ripped through him. Without armor, only a dark shirt of cotton was between their skin. He could feel the warmth of her flesh as her palm splayed over his heart. “I’m only asking for you.” 

The drumming in his head must be his heartbeat. A warning, perhaps - or fate zeroed in on this moment. Where a future was held taut between them. A question between souls. Dark and light, as they’d always been. His dark, her light: she offered it freely. 

Will you have me?

Will you risk it all?

He could see in her shining eyes. I would risk it all for you.

“You want me,” Azriel said. Half a question. She’d already said it. At the dip of her head in assent, he closed the remaining distance between them with a step. The slight gasp between her lips warmed his face, but he didn’t give her the kiss she wanted - the kiss she’d asked for long ago - the kiss that he’d dreamt of until his soul was used up and dry. No, three more strides backed her against the wall as he heard her heart flutter madly beneath his hand. Closer still: he braced his opposite hand above her head, feeling the pattern of the wallpaper as his knee came between her legs. Trapping her. Pinning her. 

She trembled. But it wasn’t the acrid scent of her fear that was making her eyes bright. 

It was want. 

“I’m dangerous,” he growled in a low voice. Still Elain didn’t tear her eyes from his, even as her fingers balls into a fist with his shirt between them. “This is dangerous. You and me.” 

“I don’t care.” Not the breathy tone he’d expected. Something thornier, stonier, as she lifted her chin to face him more fully. But it just exposed more of that creamy, unblemished throat to him. An invitation. 

Azriel tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. Hair hung in his face, and her fingers softly brushed it aside. Jasmine. Jasmine. Jasmine. Summer, heady, hot flowers; slow-dripping honey - 

Chest to chest, pressing closer as if their skin would fall away and they’d be just one person from then on. His leg lifted slightly, the rustle of lace and silk - and he felt her, through the layers, as her dark lashes closed, lips parting in an uneven breath and he heard, more with his heart than his ears,

“Oh - ”

He’d rather be boiled by the Cauldron than face Rhys after this. 

And it would still be worth it. To watch the rose-pink deepen in her cheeks as her eyes fluttered open again. On his thigh she throbbed, and if he tried to push her away, he knew she’d rip his shirt apart, so tightly was she clinging to him. 

“Are you scared, Elain?” Azriel whispered. 

“No.” 

Her eyes had glazed slightly. Like she’d gone drunk at a sip of wine, yet stared down the bottle ready to drink it to the last drop. But he was the bottle, and the wine, and the drinker. Sucking in a breath, holding her quivering body in place, he lowered his head, tilting it to the side. 

His lips met her skin at a sensitive spot beneath her ear. He felt her tremble. Brushed downward to the base of her neck, savoring every inch of her as she whimpered a strain of incoherent noises he knew would play in his dreams until he was a corpse in the ground. Then, tilting his head again, he stared at the glistening hollow of her throat. Where her scent was the thickest. Richest. Sweetest. 

Azriel paused long enough to take her wrists in his hands, lifting them above her head as her chest rose and fell against him. His chin was nearly between her breasts, and though they wanted his attention and he wanted to give it to them - he kept his eyes instead on her throat. 

Elain was squirming. Not to get away, but to get closer. The frantic bucking of her hips against him - not close enough. He pressed harder with his leg until he could feel the grind of her bone against him, and his tongue darted out to that hollow to taste it the moment her moan rose beneath it. 

“There,” he breathed. Again she rubbed herself against him. He could smell the growing headiness from there, and the jasmine coating his tongue. He licked again, and again as she moved more frantically. 

His wings unfurled as he growled deep in his throat, talons reaching to dig into the wall - the house would repair itself later - and shreds of wallpaper fluttered to the ground as he steadied himself. And Elain. The way she was pulling him in, giving of herself so freely, wanting him - chasing pleasure he could give her, scant as it was...as if this would be all she was ever given. A drop of water before starvation. 

Azriel fastened his lips to one jutted collarbone, and sucked. Immediately he clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle her cry. Sweat was dampening her nightgown - more than sweat - and it was the most intoxicating thing he’d ever smelled. He tore his mouth from her skin to say in a hoarse voice, 

“Quiet. Don’t make a sound.” 

Slowly he removed his hand, then, and lifted his head enough to see the perspiration dotting her forehead. Eyes squeezed shut as her fingers dug into his shoulders, now. 

“Good,” Azriel rasped. “Keep going, Elain. Use me however you need.”

“Touch me.” Her plea was broken and wavering. “Please - Azriel - ”

He snarled. Gripping her hips between his hands, helping her to move against him. Guiding each undulation as her heart beat faster and faster and faster - her breasts were at his eye level, so high he was holding her off the ground - and he allowed himself one more luxury: he rested his forehead against her sternum, feeling each bob of her breasts on either side of his face. The slight snag of a hardened nipple. 

If she didn’t come soon, he would. 

But it was a mere moment later that she came: breathless and noiseless, like he’d commanded, but he felt the clench of her even on his thigh. The desperate throbbing, wanting to be filled but still cresting. Deeper breaths from her parted lips, a night-song of indescribable beauty. 

Azriel wanted her. He wanted her so badly he thought he’d die from it. 

Elain went lax, and he caught her ‘round the waist before she toppled over. Her head against his shoulder, wings still shrouding them - his nose really was in her glorious mass of hair, now, and because he knew this shouldn’t happen again, he breathed in the scent of her curls, over and over and over again - 

“Azriel,” she half-panted, half-sobbed. It made his heart wrench. The wolves in his head still prowled, still snarled - wanted to pounce, to stroke, to take - but no. No. No. He wouldn’t. 

Talons unhooked themselves from the wall, wings folding delicately back in as he lowered her to the ground. A moment of unsteadiness before she could stand, blinking up at him like the sweetest fawn on a spring day. Cheeks flushed red, eyes glittering, throat damp. A faint bruise was left there from him - it would heal by morning. He hoped. 

His trousers were unbearably tight. He could barely stand. But he did, and held Elain’s gaze as if it were a lifeline offered to his dying soul. 

Which very well could be the truth.

“Azriel,” she said again. Tucked curls behind her ear. But he merely bowed, instead of throwing her onto the bed to devour her until Summer Solstice as he wanted to do with every fiber of his being, and said, 

“I hope you’re feeling better, Elain.” 

Something like hurt passed over her face. Mouth pressed together in a thin line as she tugged the lace robe to lay straight over her breasts and shoulders. Azriel didn’t look. 

A single breath, drawn out like a keening wail of grief: Elain turned and swept away to the door, yanking it open to disappear into the blackness as shadows reappeared, gently closing the door to keep it from making a noise and alerting the sleeping inhabitants of the house. Azriel stared after her for a moment, fists clenched and empty and her scent all over him like a thick, woollen blanket. 

He hadn’t even kissed her. 

He stomped to the fireplace, tearing at the laces of his trousers to yank them off each of his feet. Threw the Elain-soaked pants into the fire. 

As if knowing his intention, knowing his agony: the house ate up the leather quickly, turning it to blackened, crumbling ashes that fell among the cracked logs. He still smelled of her, he knew it. He’d smell her even if he did manage to wash her off. His leg, his hands, his chest where she’d touched him, his face - she was everywhere. Everywhere. 

Almost everywhere. 

Azriel ached. He ached between his legs, almost like he’d been kicked with a spiked boot. Hurt so bad even without trousers that he didn’t want to touch himself. Instead he stared at the flames, and then the embers as they burned down and the shadows crept closer to swallow him whole. Still his heart beat on, a steady, unceasing rhythm that chanted with each pulse of blood - 

Elain. Elain. Elain.

TO BE CONTINUED

#elriel #pro elriel #elain archeron #elain x azriel #acotar

[vidalinav]

I hate that Nesta’s protectiveness, the one quality in the narrative that even Feyre saw as Nesta showing her love for Elain, and the part of her that was again shown when she chose to die with Cassian, that was honored as she stood at Enalius’s passing, because she wholeheartedly wanted her friends to live, which can even be passed to the act of her wanting to tell her story and help the fae, because she wanted to protect the humans—to give them a chance, that part of her that started scrying because she wanted Nyx to be born in a better world, that sacrificed her powers for her sister and her nephew, because she wholeheartedly did not care about herself, she cared about other people’s well-being, that quality I never found bad or awful towards Nesta, that one quality I actually thought highlighted how good Nesta was, and how caring, is used by Elain as Nesta’s character flaw even though Nesta is only protective of Elain during three instances: one when they were human, which Nesta conceded on letting Feyre and the IC use the house after Elain says they should, one when Elain was lifeless for a bit and deeply traumatized, and once in ACOSF about scrying when the last time she scryed Elain was taken by the cauldron and Hybern.

This is why I can’t sympathize with Elain as a victim to Nesta’s ways as it’s portrayed in three instances: when she cries in the library knowing full well the current state of affairs, when she accuses Nesta of only thinking of how her trauma affects her and saying that she remembers Feyre rescuing her, and when she talks of the duke situation and says that she hopes Nesta channels all of “that” into something more productive. And then when Feyre agrees that they ALL coddle her, when Amren says that they shouldn’t underestimate her, and when Rhys again says that perhaps they haven’t seen what Elain is made of, and when Azriel is like we shouldn’t subject her to that darkness. Some of this I would understand Elain getting mad, but not for Nesta coddling, because Nesta at this point hasn’t even seen Elain for a WHILE, which makes all the difference, because how can she coddle someone she has pushed away? I can see her being angry for what Nesta says, the dog comment (actually that was never said out loud) or the father comment or what the IC do because they don’t give her tasks and kind of just let her be, but the context of the situation DOES matter, because these situations in which Nesta is saying something mean is a situation where Elain is really oblivious and not reading the context of the situation, and it comes at the end of the scene when it’s already been taken too far. She’s not mean for sport lol. I would even understand the anger based on feeling left out, but that’s not what she gets angry about. It’s directly and only at Nesta and for that one quality, and it has made this notion both in the book and the fandom that Elain is “coddled” specifically by Nesta as opposed to giving Nesta the validation that she is deeply afraid and her MO entirely is that she protects the people she loves. She has not told Elain she has no free will, she has not taken it away. That has NEVER happened. Elain consistently thrived for almost all of the book series, until she turned fae. There was no forever under Nesta’s thumb. 

It reminds me a little of when Elain says that her father could never say no to Nesta as if this grown ass man had no control and all of the control/responsibility was on this 14 year old girl. What? It’s also why I think Elain has much of the same skewed, problematic perspective as Nesta had in the beginning of ACOSF where she thought people sided with Feyre. I have such a problem that people in this fandom use that dialogue as a way that Elain is the rational one, or the one whose finally and rightfully sticking up for herself, or who is a victim of other people. Like no I’m sorry. I do agree that she is neglected in some sense, but there is more evidence that that is her choice than it is because of other people. She literally says that Nesta can’t hate her choice to live a simple life but also hate her getting involved. She locks herself away when Nesta is there. She pretends to garden for other people or whatever as Cassian notes it might have been a lie. She avoids Lucien. She is the one who though Feyre thinks she’s pleasant, they’re not extremely close, and that happened without Nesta involved at all. 

The mere act of saying it’s because of other people makes her a victim which is her whole character arc from the beginning, of her not helping even when she could just as much as Nesta. Nesta is both held accountable for her healing as in everyone pretty much pushes her to do it faster, and then also for that situation. Elain isn’t held accountable for either. Neither her own healing, Bc they didn’t push her at all even now. And also for that hunting situation.

We’ve seen literal evidence of Elain in ACOMAF where Elain is like softly being like Nesta we need to help and Nesta concedes. We’ve seen Elain stab the King of Hybern. We’ve seen her be pretty mean too in ACOSF, or at least biting back. She can help if she wants. That is not Nesta’s fault so I really really hope that that is her skewed narrative and it becomes an objective of character development as Feyre was to Nesta and it’s not used as another way that Nesta is criticized for something in the book as well as the fandom that is far more complex than “oh Nesta is mean. She hurts everyone. She’s an awful character. Blah blah blah.” But ultimately, I hope it’s used for Elain taking accountability of her own life. That it is not other people’s fault, she’s not happy or doing something or close with many people. Her narrative right now, even with the mate bond situation, is that she lacks control of her own life, but... uhh hate to break it to you. 

The evidence is there guys. Elain is having problems. Nesta is not THE problem, which for gods knows why I’ve seen on so many posts when they want to defend Elain. Defend Elain, she’s not a bad character. But not for this lol. This is one of her character flaws. 

#nesta archeron #anti elain #anti SJM #anti acosf #that's all for my Monday rant

[howlinggoodreads]

Why I think Gwenriel is endgame

These are purely my own thoughts and opinions. Please don’t take offence if you disagree with them. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion and I respect everyone’s theories and ships. At the end of the day is up to Queen Maas to decide. In the meantime I enjoy reading eveones thoughts while we wait for the real thing! Hopefully not to long. 💜😊💜

There were a lot of clues and breadcrumbs in ACOSF in regard to Elain and Azriel in my opinion.

Lots have already been mentioned like her not fitting in with the night court (wearing black doesn’t suit her according to Cassian) and how much Elain would love the Spring court.

I have a theory that Lucien will become high lord of the Spring Court. I don’t know if SJM will kill off Tamlin or he’ll remain in his beast form in the wild, but I believe somehow he will no longer be a high lord and Lucien will take up the role. This fits in for Elain being high lady of the spring court, which she’d love. She could garden all day! Remember the rose garden in the spring court? She’d love it!

Azriel is ashamed of what he’s done with his hands, the scars on them and hides them from Elain but those same hands killed Gwyn’s abusers right in front of her. She understands the necessity of what Asriel has done and what he’ll continue doing. They’re both warriors and there’s no shame between them only a mutual understanding to fight for the greater good.

His shadows love Gwyn! They didn’t tell him she was training that night so he couldn’t avoid seeing her. They reach out for her and she smiles at them. They hide from Elain and Mor and I don’t think that’s a good thing. Like Azriel said to Gwyn “ I am a Shadow Singer, it’s not just a title.”

I believe it was his shadows who guided Az to give the necklace to Gwen. His conscious self gave it to Elain but his unconscious self gave it to Gwyn.

Azriel saved Gwyn from her abusers and the Males who murdered her twin. I think the trauma of that caused the mating bond between them to get affected. He refuses to see her as a potential mate because of the her assault and not wanting to add to it and Gwyn is still healing so she doesn’t realise. We know that trauma affects the mating bond, his shadows know she’s his mate even if he refuses to see it yet.

I learnt more about Az in his small bonus chapter meeting with Gwyn than I have in the whole time he’s been in ACOTAR, he sings!

Apart from the fact Rhys and Cassian are mates with the other two sisters I don’t see any other connection between Az and Elain. SJM covered that in Azriels bonus chapter, just because the other two are mates with the Archeron sisters doesn’t make him entitled to the third sister.

They’re both rebounding, Az with Mor and Elain with Greysen. They’ve both been rejected and are trying to regain some control over there lives.

We don’t know what Gwyn’s thinking when she looks at Azriel. Cassian said she kept looking at him during training but couldn’t read what she was thinking.

Gwyn isn’t apposed to romance in her life. She reads romances with Nesta and Emerie.

Azriel is very patient, he waited 500 years waiting for Mor and never pressured her. He is the perfect personality for Gwyn in my opinion he’ll wait forever for her once he realises how special she is.

Gwyn will grow past what’s happened to her. It doesn’t define her and her future. She will heal and find happiness as she deserves.

I’ve been a Elucien shipper ever since Elain came out the cauldron and Lucien declared she was his mate. He has been so patient with Elain and has never pressured her. My heart broke for him when he gave her her solstice present (pearl earrings) and she barely said a thank you.

He has had an abusive past not dissimilar to Gwyn. He has been mentally and physically abused and his wife was murdered by his family in front of him.

He also has a physical disability because Amarantha blinded him in one eye.

“In a rare moment of losing his temper, Lucien told Amarantha to, "go back to the shit-hole she'd crawled out of." As punishment for his words, Amaranatha attacked Lucien and carved out his left eye.”

A million points to Lucien for standing up to Amarantha btw!

He has also been treated badly by Tamlin and continues to stick by him and try to be his friend.

He was also assaulted by Ianthe.

After everything he’s been through I can’t see Maas rejecting the mating bond. It would be cruel to do that to someone who’s overcome so much pain and hardship. It would be the poster child for good guys finish last. If he’d pressured Elain or reacted badly because of her wariness of the bond I might see it, but he’s been the perfect gentleman.

Shipping Azriel with Elain hurts two people who have already had a lifetime of pain. I just don’t see it happening because of a few lustful looks across the dinner table. I think Elain and Azriel’s relationship is about control and the fact they both feel like they’ve lost to much in there lives.

I trust Azriel’s shadows more than I trust Azriel’s insight at the moment. His conversation which Rhys proves he’s not in a very good place and he’s not seeing thing clearly. They’re both pushing themselves towards what they think they want and ignoring what they need.

I really hope Gwyn makes a friendship bracelet for Az! Hers has teal blue for her eyes, white for the light inside her and blue the same colour as Azriel’s siphons perhaps? And what wish would she make for him?

Az and Elain = Lust 💋

Az and Gwyn = Love ❤️

#acosf spoilers #acosf #a court of silver flames #gwyneth berdara #gwynriel #azriel x gwyn #azriel

[bookofmirth]

thoughts on elucien as of acosf

They still haven't rejected the bond. It's been over a year.

Lucien is clearly pining, but giving Elain her space. He's respectful af.

You know that if Elain truly didn't want to see him, Rhys and Feyre would make that happen in a second.

Speaking of, Elain is good at smiling and pretending to be okay all the time. But she can't when Lucien is around.

We don't know if she got him a gift or not

We haven't had either of their POVs since... acomaf?

Mates can communicate in ways other than directly speaking to one another, in front of all their friends and family. We don't know if they have either been doing that, or just straight up meeting outside of the gossipy, prying eyes of the IC.

We know that Elain wants someone who actually sees her, who won't let her emotions wear more heavily on them than they do on herself (more thoughts on this in a separate post and yes I'm heading towards the other one being unable to handle even the smallest bit of conflict without getting angry, meanwhile we have Lucien who is still able to handle Tamlin at his bitchy lowest).

Lucien will still tell Elain the truth and be blunt af, but only when she's ready to talk.

All we actually know is that they haven't either accepted or rejected the bond. (sjm could have used the feysand short to discuss that but she's saving this huge, life-altering bond story for an entire book, imho)

Elain was avoiding Lucien in acosf, but she was also avoiding Nesta so. I don't take that to mean much, other than she doesn't like to talk to people she has strong, complicated feelings towards.

She had sex with Graysen like a month before their wedding, at a point when they seemed to be ready for "forever", and maybe that was really devastating for her if she had decided to only sleep with her husband, ever. We learned very little about Elain this book except 1) she's tired of people stressing over her wellbeing, and 2) she't not a virgin.

Basically we are right where we left off in acowar. There are literally zero arguments to be made against them, zero claims to be made that they don't speak or that they never interact, when we have never been in their POVs post mate acknowledgement.

And for people (like me) who thought "but them coming together will take so long, after so much healing", acowar and acofas and now acosf have now given us over a year. Slow. Burn.

We still have the evidence of Sarah talking about them as an endgame couple the way she does feysand and nessian. Meanwhile we have her talking about Az as a freak in bed but... not with anyone in particular.

Personally, I still like to think about them as an exercise in "what would acotar have been like if Feyre fell for Tamlin and then learned that Rhys was her mate right away"

Feel free to add on

#elucien #acosf #acosf spoilers #spoilers #my arguments for why Elain or Lucien wouldn't be with anyone else #are a separate post #this is a pro-elucien post #not an anti-other ships post #a court of silver flames spoilers #but really are there spoilers #when we don't know anything more lol #*sweating*

[sjmsstuff]

The World Was Ending

This was an ask from the lovely @velvet-rays from ages and ages ago (I’m not kidding, it’s been months), I had written a first version and hated it, then a first draft of this, then writers block hit and life got in the way but anyway we’re here.

The prompt was a line from “If The World Was Ending” by JP Saxe and Julia Michaels, ‘I think I’ve figured out how to think about you without ripping my heart out’, for Elucien.

It’s short and I still kinda hate it but here *shoves it in your face* take it.

The dappled sunlight caught the shades of blue in her eyes, the bird calls faded to background noise. Everything quieted when she was near. Like the universe knew anything she said was important and didn’t want to miss a syllable.

Her hair curled softly as her scent wrapped around his throat. .

As always, she undeniably and painfully astounded him.

He clenched his fists against the onslaught of emotions waging terrible wars inside his mind.

Her that night, whispering, then moaning, then screaming. Her hands gripping him, bending him to her will. That polite voice swearing filthy things into his ear. His hands pinning hers, his teeth on her breast. She had begged for it hard and he would’ve done anything to make her shout his name like that again.

Then Lucien remembered the next morning, the bed still warm but now heartbreakingly empty. Her avoiding him for weeks, then the conversation in the garden.

Her hollow words.

Her detached manner.

Now here she stood, in the entrance hall of his estate. Almost a decade too late. Asking for a conversation. Asking for more weapons to destroy him.

“No, Elain, you don’t get to do this to me. I spent years, years, waiting for you. I would’ve waited a thousand more but you told me you didn’t want this. You told me you didn’t want me-“ his voice cracked. “It took me months to get over that but it’s happened. I spent months trying to think of anything but you and thoroughly failing. I wanted to tear my hair out every time I saw you at an event, every time I met with your sister and could smell you in the house. But I. Moved. On. I am done. I think I’ve figured out how to think about you, without ripping my heart out, and now you’re back? I can’t do this to myself again, Elain, I won’t.”

She flinched from his harsh words and his instinct was to cut out his own tongue to never hurt her again.

Elain merely straightened and opened that pretty mouth.

“I never said I didn’t want you, all those years ago. I never said-“

“You think I don’t know what you said? I’ve replayed that conversation a thousand times, I know what you meant Elain, I know that-“

“Then why haven’t I rejected the bond?” Elain was indignant. “Why have I left this connection open between us?”

Lucien didn’t answer. Words crowded the space between them but none could find their way to his tongue. All got lost in the twisted labyrinth of his emotions, crawling off to die in darkened corners as the silence stretched.

“I felt you last night,” Elain’s voice had turned quiet, “I felt you with her.”

“I have every right to fuck who I want.” His throat bobbed. Guilt crowded his soul but he forced it down.

“Is that why you’re here?”

“I can smell her on you now,”

“I wasn’t exactly expecting you to show up at my door.”

“I know and I know you probably hate me but-“

The fire died in Lucien’s gaze, “I could never hate you Elain. But you don’t get to come here and tell me whose allowed to have me, when you don’t even want me yourself.”

“I know-“

“And that night, I knew you couldn’t think about forever and that was fine. But I thought you would have at least stayed till breakfast. Not disappear before the sun had fully risen.”

He had awoken that morning and seen her lying on his pillow, hair fanned out, breathing softly tucked into his side. For the first time in centuries he felt at home. At some point he had drifted back off to sleep only to awaken minutes later to the door clicking shut, her scent fading and his heart cracking into pieces.

Now she stood before him again and the world was ending.

“I had to leave. I regretted what we did.”

Lucien’s broken heart crumbled further, but Elain continued, “I regret that it was a drunken tryst in my sister’s house. I regret that I couldn’t give you what you wanted. I left because I was ashamed, I didn’t regret you Lucien, I was afraid you’d regret me when all I can give you is broken pieces and jagged edges.”

“All I wanted was you. Any small part of you would have been enough, instead you tore me apart too.”

“I’m sorry, Lucien, truly I-“

Lucien cut her off, “Are you only here out of jealousy? Is that it? You knew I was with another and decided you-“

“No,” Elain voice was a quiet crack through the room, but as usual Lucien bowed to its will, “I’m not here to tell you what you can or can’t do. I’m here to offer you a choice”

Lucien held his breath.

“I’m here to tell you that I’m willing to try.,” Elain clasped one trembling hand in another, “If you are willing, I would like to try.”

“I can’t Elain.” Lucien’s voice trembled, “I can’t open myself up for you to crush me again.”

Those long lashes fluttered shut, those delicate shoulders rose in a fortifying breath. She smiled slightly, lips quivering, “I understand, Lucien, and when you’re ready you know where to find me. You waited for me, I’ll wait now.”

With that she turned on her heel.

Lucien watched her go.

Feel free to send me an ask or prompt

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[hacawijo]

Alright, If We’re Gonna Play with Az’s Bonus Chapter, Let’s PLAY with Az’s Bonus Chapter (Pt. 2)

Yeah baby, part 2 of a PAINSTAKING close read lol.

Azriel winnowed into shadows before she could say anything he uses the shadows to ESCAPE, they are a coping mechanism, appearing at the door to Rhys’s study a heartbeat later. His shadows whispered in his ear that Elain had gone upstairs. It’s interesting that the shadows specifically report on Elain’s whereabouts here and not earlier, as well as later not reporting on Gwyn.

Rhys sat at his desk, fury a moonless night across his face. He asked softly, “Are you out of your mind?”

Azriel donned the frozen mask he’d perfected while in his father’s dungeon. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Rhys’s power rippled through the room like a dark cloud. “I’m talking about you, about to kiss Elain, in the middle of a hall where anyone could see you,” he snarled. “Including her mate.” It is not out of line for Rhys to acknowledge that this was stupid. If for no other reason than that it would hurt Lucien if he saw/felt them.

Azriel stiffened. Let his cold rage rise to the surface, the rage he only ever let Rhysand see, because he knew his brother could match it. Which is the mirror to something that Rhys notes in ACOFAS, that they are similar in their darkness. Because Rhys is really the only person Azriel can be himself with, completely, I think it’s important to acknowledge that this is unprecedented ground for them and specifically for Azriel. This is the first time Azriel can actually voice ANY of these thoughts out loud, and only because Rhys saw them, he did not bring this concern to Rhys himself. “What if the Cauldron was wrong?”

Rhysand blinked. “What of Mor, Az?” Also very not out of line thing to ask. Feyre is the only person Mor has really told about her sexuality, and so to Rhys and co. AND Azriel, nothing about this situation has changed in the past 500 years. The fact that Azriel is able to get over Mor, without that confirmation of her sexuality, because of Elain, is significant I think.

Azriel ignored the question. Hmm yeah, but he can’t keep ignoring this question forever, and that’s another reason he and Elain did NOT kiss in this chapter. He and his family and Mor all need closure regarding their relationship. “The Cauldron chose three sisters. Oh boy, I have a lot to say about the number three later on! Tell me how it’s possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another.” He had never before dared speak the words out loud. NEVER BEFORE DARED TO SPEAK THE WORDS OUT LOUD. This is the first time he’s even verbalizing these thoughts - of COURSE he doesn’t know how to navigate this conversation. This is raw emotion being spewed out right now, enhanced by the unresolved tension from his interaction with Elain.

Rhys’s face drained of color. “You believe you deserve to be her mate?” So, he says that his two brothers ARE WITH two of those sisters, which is a way to acknowledge the fact that both people in each pair accepted the bond and that it was a mutually built connection. Then he says “the third was given to another” which is actually really different. He’s saying that Elain was given to Lucien by the Cauldron, suddenly one member of that bond is not an active participant - and this is mostly true! Elain has ignored Lucien diligently, and she hinted about her lack of feelings for him when she asked Feyre why he should be entitled to her affections just because of the cauldron and whatever amends he has made. I don’t like Azriel saying that Elain is something to be given as opposed to a person to be connected to, but I’m not sure exactly what it means that he did that. ANYWAY, Rhys really does supply the word deserve, and we have evidence from earlier in this chapter that essentially proves that Azriel does not believe he deserves Elain, anyway. He is having an argument with Rhys, yes, but it almost feels like he’s arguing with himself.

Azriel scowled. “I think Lucien will never be good enough for her, and she has no interest in him anyway.” (THE ONLY TIME ELAIN’S ACTUAL FEELINGS, ACTIONS ARE CONSIDERED IN THIS DISCUSSION BTW) Also, not that he doesn’t answer Rhys’s question. For Azriel, this isn’t necessarily about what HE deserves in this moment, it’s about what Elain wants. Almost certainly, Azriel DOESN’T believe that he deserves Elain, but he sees the injustice of her being forced to accept a bond with someone for political or spiritual/societal reasons. So while to Rhys it may seem like Azriel is is putting Lucien’s claim down in order to boost his own, I actually think Azriel is trying to distinguish a different issue - Elain’s agency. This same thing happened with Mor and Eris. ABSOLUTELY THIS IS NOT ALL LIKE THAT SITUATION BECAUSE LUCIEN IS NOT ERIS!!! I am not trying to compare their behavior. BUT, Azriel would have dueled Eris for Mor’s agency regardless of whether or not she chose to be with him.

“So you’ll what?” Rhys’s voice was pure ice. “Seduce her away from him?” Rhys, I think, misinterpreting Azriel and it’s mostly not Rhys’s fault. Azriel doesn’t communicate well and is not currently communicating well. That being said, I wish he would give Azriel more benefit of the doubt.

Azriel said nothing. He hadn’t got that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to. HE HADN’T PLANNED ANYTHING, this whole conversation is just like a raw nerve.

Rhys growled, “Allow me to make one thing very clear. You are to stay away from her.” Well come on, now, Rhys, what if she doesn’t want to stay away from him? BE A FEMINIST RHYS, just add, “unless she wants to see you”!

ALSO, DID RHYS TELL FEYRE ABOUT THIS? MY MONEY IS ON NO, AND IF RHYS DIDN’T TELL HER ITS BECAUSE HE KNOWS HE’S NOT WHOLLY DOING THE RIGHT THING BY ELAIN.

“You can’t order me to do that.”

“Oh, I can, and I will. If Lucien finds out you’re pursuing her, he has every right to defend their bond as he sees fit. Including invoking the Blood Duel.” Another really big sign that this is going to play out Elriel style is the mentioning of the Blood Duel. Chekhov’s gun eh?

“That’s an Autumn Court tradition.” The battle to the death was so brutal that it was only enacted in rare cases. Despite being an outsider, Azriel had wanted to to invoke it when he’d found Mor all those years ago. Had been ready to challenge both Beron and Eris to Blood Duels and kill them both. Yes see? He would have done this regardless of Mor’s feelings toward him. Only Mor’s right to claim their heads in vengeance had kept him from doing so.

“Lucien, as Beron’s son, has the right to demand it of you.” But hey fun fact Rhys knows that Lucien is almost CERTAINLY not Beron’s son. Interesting to consider in context.

“I’ll defeat him with little effort.” Pure arrogance laced every word, but it was true. Again, Azriel is dodging Rhys’s points and is honestly being pretty immature right now, but he hasn’t actually said ANYTHING about an intention to pursue Elain with any of this. Rhys has filled in the blanks, and Azriel has responded to smaller aspects of Rhys’s macro-points with which he finds fault. I think this is also because he knows Rhys is right about a lot of the realities of the situation, but he is in the mood to be contrary right now, so he’s fighting back where he can stomach it.

“I know.” Rhys’s eyes flickered. “And your doing so will rip apart any fragile peace and alliances we have, not only with the Autumn Court, but Also with the Spring Court and Jurian and Vassa.” Rhys bared his teeth. Rhys’s motivations are based entirely on things that have nothing to do with Elain’s feelings, which is sad. But, they’re not insignificant considerations. Though come on dude you did pretty much enable Hybern’s arrival to Prythian by alienating The Spring Court with Feyre’s escape.“So you will leave Elain alone. YES, ALONE, because Elain probably is PRETTY FREAKIN LONELY If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her.” Low. Blow.

Azriel snarled softly.

“Snarl all you want.” Rhys leaned back in his chair. “But if I see you panting after her again, I’ll make you regret it.” I do think this is a really ungenerous description of what was happening downstairs with Elain. Their interaction was careful and consensual, we have painstaking detail to prove that, and it was far from panting/animalistic in action.

Rhys had rarely threatened punishment or pulled rank. It stunned Azriel enough that it knocked him from his rage. This is another person taking ANOTHER choice away from Elain. I think she may find out about Rhys doing this and I personally think she’s gonna be rightfully pissed.

Rhys jerked his chin toward the door. “Get out.”

Azriel tucked in his wings and left without another word, stalking through the house and onto the front lawn to sit in the frigid starlight. To let the frost in his veins match the air around him.

Until he felt nothing. Was again nothing at all. With Elain, he is SOMETHING. Because he feels things.

Then he flew to the House of Wind, knowing that if he slept in the riverside manor, he’d do something he regretted. He’d been so vigilant about keeping away from Elain as much as possible, Further evidence that Azriel never intended to fight Lucien or make a stink over Elain and had stayed up here to avoid her, and tonight... tonight had proved he’d been right to do so.

He aimed for the training pit, giving in to the need to work off the temptation, the rage and frustration and writhing need.

He found it occupied. His shadows had not warned him. I am not sure what it means that his shadows didn’t warn him. It could mean that Gwyn is protected from his shadows/immune to them. It could mean that his shadows wanted him to go see Gwyn - either out of a desire for Azriel to find some peace with her or out of curiosity as to who/what she is?

It was too late to bank without appearing like he was running. Azriel landed in the ring a few feet from where Gwyn practiced in the chill night, her sword glimmering like ice in the moonlight.

She stopped mid-slice, whirling to face him. “I’m sorry. I knew you all were going to the river house, so I didn’t think anyone would mind if I came up here and—“

“It’s fine. I came here to retrieve something I forgot.” The lie was smooth and cool, as he knew his face was. His shadows peered over his wings at her. They are… wary of her? They’re shy around her?

The young priestess smiled — and Azriel thought it might have been directed at his curious shadows. But she just hooked her coppery-brown hair behind an arched ear. “I was trying to cut the ribbon.” She pointed with her sword at the white ribbon, which seemed to glow silver. Some interesting language here and above (glimmering, glow etc.) to do with light, and again a juxtaposition between light and dark. But not a golden light, a colder/silver light.

“Aren’t you cold?” His breath clouded in front of him.

Gwyn shrugged. “Once you get moving, you stop noticing it.”

He nodded, silence falling. For a heartbeat, their gazes met. Gaze is definitely a romantically charged word, this is one of the tiny details that makes me unsure about the future nature of their relationship. He blocked out the bloody memory that flashed, so at odds with the Gwyn he saw before him now. I definitely do not think they are mates. I’m not closing the door on them being romantically involved, I don’t have enough evidence to do that, but I really think that if they were mates, Azriel would have known when he saw her at Sangravah.

Her head ducked, as if remembering it too. That he’d been the one who’d found her that day at Sangravah. Shades of Cassian’s reactions to Emerie’s wings having been clipped, in ACOFAS. “Happy Solstice,” she said, as much a dismissal as it was a holiday blessing.

He snorted. “Are you kicking me out?”

Gwyn’s teal eyes I have a lot to say about these teal eyes :) flashed with alarm. “No! I mean, I don’t mind sharing the ring. I just... I know you like to be alone.” Her mouth quirked to the side, crinkling the freckles on her nose. “Is that why you came up here?” I’ll talk more about this later, but there are a few small moments in the book where it seems like Gwyn might have a crush on Azriel, or some kind of special awareness/interest where he is concerned. I have seen almost no evidence that Az returns those potential feelings, except PERHAPS for the moment where he hears her screech and pays attention. But I think anyone would pay attention if someone screeched? Also he watches reverently as she cuts the ribbon, but that also feels like it would happen regardless of any romantic feelings he might have. But I don’t know for sure!

Sort of. “I forgot something.”

“At two in the morning?”

Pure amusement glittered in her stare. Better than the pain and grief he’d spied a moment before. So he offered her a crooked smile. He cares that she not be feeling pain and grief, as he does with anyone he deems good, and that is part of why he offers her the smile, as he clearly says right here. “I can’t sleep without my favorite dagger.”

“A comfort to every growing child.”

Azriel’s lips twitched. I think her irreverence matches his sense of humor quite well. He refrained from mentioning that he did indeed sleep with a dagger. Many daggers. Including one under his pillow.

“How was the party?” Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music. This shadow is acting totally independent of him. She’s asking a simple question of Azriel at the moment, and he CAN’T hear the music he believes that shadow might be dancing to. Lightsinger evidence, I’d say.

“Fine,” he said, and realized a heartbeat later that it wasn’t a socially acceptable answer. “It was nice.” LOL I will say here that Azriel has to make a lot of conscious effort in this interaction. He makes himself respond in a specific way, which is not language that was used to describe his interactions with Elain earlier in the chapter. This could totally just be because he doesn’t know Gwyn that well, and certainly that’s a big part of it, but I think there’s something to be said for the fact that he is still filtering himself here with Gwyn in the quiet.

Not much better. So he asked, “Did you can the priestesses have a celebration?”

“Yes, though the service was the main highlight.”

“I see.” LOL

She angled her head, hair shining like molten metal. More glowing-type stuff “Do you sing?” I love Gwyn.

He blinked. It wasn’t everyday that people took him by surprise, but... which is great! Elain surprises him with the headache medicine in ACOFAS, Feyre surprises him with her intuition and tenderness throughout. I think this indicates that they will have a significant relationship regardless of its exact nature. “Why do you ask?”

“They call you shadowsinger. Is it because you sing?”

“I am a shadowsinger— it’s not a title that someone just made up.” It’s super-duper interesting that they actually discuss the fact that he’s a shadowsinger. When Feyre meets Azriel, she is curious, but specifically doesn’t ask follow-up questions or for expansion on the ability. Why specifically remind us here that Azriel is a shadowsinger and that Gwyn sings? If not to foreshadow something related to the ability and Gwyn?

She shrugged again, irreverently. Az narrowed his eyes, studying her. “Do you though?” She pressed. “Sing?”

Azriel couldn’t help his soft chuckle. “Yes.” I love Gwyn. She is the reason I now realize a lot of what I’ve been doing in my life is irreverence :P

She opened her mouth to ask more, but he didn’t feel like explaining. Or demonstrating, since that was surely what she’d ask next. So Az jerked his chin to the sword dangling from her hand. “Try cutting the ribbon again.” I love this so much. Maybe it is romantic, but I think that’s debatable. What’s not debatable is that it’s completely charming.

“What— with you watching?” It’s actually pretty funny that in order to avoid giving a demonstration of something that makes him vulnerable and puts Gwyn in the role of expert he flips it and makes her demonstrate vulnerability while he is the expert. Gwyn might be quite a bit braver than Azriel in some ways.

He nodded.

She considered, and he wondered if she’d say no, but Gwyn blew out a breath, steadied her feet and balance, and sliced. A beautiful, precise blow, but it didn’t sever the ribbon. SEE? Brave. I love Gwyn.

“Again,” he ordered, rubbing his hands against the cold, grateful for its bracing bite and the distraction of this impromptu lesson. Distraction is a notable word here. Azriel’s thoughts don’t really ever stray from Elain and his turmoil throughout this interaction, that’s what the word distraction tells us.

Gwyn sliced again, but the ribbon remained unyielding.

“You’re turning the blade a fraction as it comes parallel to the ground,” Azriel explained, drawing his Illyrian blade from down his back. “Watch.” He slowly demonstrated, rotating his wrist where she did. “You see how you open up right here?” He corrected his position. “Keep your wrist like that. The blade is an extension of your arm.”

Gwyn tried the movement as slowly as he had, and he watched her self-correct, fighting against the urge to open up her wrist and rotate the blade. She did it three times before she stopped falling into the bad habit. “I blame Cassian for this. He’s too busy making eyes at Nesta to notice such mistakes these days.”

Azriel laughed. “I’ll give you that.” I sense a lot of compatibility, just, again, not sure it’s romantic.

Gwyn smiled broadly. “Thank you.”

Azriel dipped his head in a sketch of a bow, something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed. As if content to lounge on his shoulders and watch. This is another line that I think offers the most evidence for something significant between Gwyn and Azriel. It’s lovely that she has helped to settle something restless in him with the distraction - and I think it’s important to note that it might not have done the same thing had he encountered Emerie or another trainee on the roof. At the same time, maybe it would have. Also love that his shadows like to watch Gwyn. Lightsinger/Shadowsinger evidence! This all being said, I can’t really think of an SJM romance that is built around a comfort zone. I can think of many friendships that operate that way, but not so much with the romances. There’s usually nervousness and flutters and passion and… restlessness, somewhere in there.

But— sleep. He needed to at least attempt to get some.

“Happy Solstice,” Azriel said before aiming for the archway into the House. “Don’t stay out too much longer. You’ll freeze.”

Gwyn nodded her farewell, again facing the ribbon. A warrior sizing up an opponent, all traces of that charming irreverence gone. I love Gwyn.

Azriel entered the warmth of the stairwell, and as he descended, he could have sworn a faint, beautiful singing followed him. Could have sworn his shadows sang in answer. This feels VERY much like Lightsinger/Shadowsinger evidence. His shadows, as this chapter has demonstrated time and again, operate independently of him, and they react to Gwyn’s song. I also think it’s possible that Gwyn is sort of always singing, even when she’s not. Like she glows with song on some level, and that’s what his shadows are reacting to - because I don’t think she’d necessarily actually sing while attempting to cut the ribbon.

He slept as well as could be expected which means pretty much not at all y’all — he makes it clear he never expects to sleep well, but when Azriel returned to the River House to gather his presents before dawn, he found Elain’s necklace amid the pile. He pocketed it. Spent the rest of his day, even the blasted snowball fight, with every intention of returning it to the shop in the Palace of Thread and Jewels. How did the necklace get there??? Did Elain really put it there??? Seems like even more evidence that he assumes too much about her understanding of his feelings. Also, though, it seems really rude/OOC for Elain to do that. She gave up very quickly after he gave her a really thoughtful gift. SOMETHING’S FISHY.

But when he returned from the cabin in the mountains, he didn’t go to the market square.

Instead, he found himself at the library beneath the House of Wind, standing before Clotho as the clock chimed seven in the evening. Important to remember that this is one of the longest nights of the year, which means dusk is coming on later than it was when Nesta attended the evening service weeks/months prior- a service that started almost exactly when seven bells rang the time. It is very well possible that Azriel finds himself at the library as the evening service is happening. The one in which Gwyn sings. If she does have some kind of Lightsinger power in her, it may be that he was lured by that power instead of returning the necklace. Even if they always start at 7, he still arrives exactly at 7. The only point against this surmising that I’ve done is that Clotho led the service which Nesta attended, and yet she is here to greet Azriel. Either I’m wrong and the service is not happening at or around this time, OR the service can take place without Clotho occasionally, and this served the interest of the plot so that Az could speak with someone.

He slid the small box across her desk. “If you see Gwyn, would you give this to her?”

Clotho angled her hooded head, and her enchanted pen wrote on a piece of paper. A Solstice gift from you?

Azriel shrugged. “Don’t tell her it came from me.” Yes, it really doesn’t seem super romantic to re-gift a necklace to Gwyn. It just feels sour, if this is the start of a romance between them.

Why?

“Does she need to know? Just tell her it was a gift from Rhys.”

That would be a lie.

He avoided the urge to cross his arms, not wanting to look intimidating. He blocked out the memory that flashed— of his mother cringing before his father, the male standing with crossed arms in such a way that made his displeasure known before he opened his hateful mouth. This feels very important. We know VERY LITTLE about Azriel’s story, his past, and his family, and so I want to point out ANY and EVERY nugget we get!

“Look I...” Az searched for the words, his voice becoming quiet. “If there’s another priestess here who might appreciate it, give it to them. But I’m not taking that necklace with me when I leave.” I’m not exactly sure what it means that Azriel says this. It could be that he doesn’t want to make a thing of his potential feelings for Gwyn and so tries to deflect with this statement, both to convince Clotho and himself that it’s not about Gwyn. It could also mean that Azriel needed to be rid of the necklace, and wasn’t in the mood to fight with Clotho over an ultimately secondary (to getting rid of the necklace) impulse to give it to someone who provided him comfort and companionship at a time when he needed it.

He waited for Clotho’s pen to finish writing. Your eyes are sad, Shadowsinger.

He offered her a grim smile. “I lost the snowball fight today.” HE LOST THE FIRST SNOWBALL FIGHT IN 200 YEARS! And I’m pretty sure it wasn’t because Gwyn made him feel better the previous night. I think he lost because he is in anguish over the situation with Elain. Again, I understand that anguish shouldn’t necessarily be a romantic thing, but in SJM’s writing it often is. This is a romance series, angst is a thing, stakes are a thing. It’s not necessarily the most healthy, but it’s also not all-the-way unhealthy. He just feels strongly about Elain and there are a lot of obstacles between him and finding a way to resolve those feelings for good or bad.

I am a counselor for folks who have and are dealt/dealing with sexual, gender-based, and interpersonal violence, and if you want me to do an analysis of all of the relationships in SJM’s writing that aren’t wholly healthy, there won’t be any left over. Except for maybe Sartaq and Nesryn. they really do have their shit together. I suspend a fair amount of my disbelief and professional knowledge in reading these books because I love them and they are fictional :) Also, relationships are complicated. It’s pretty rare for me to work with a client that has a cut-and-dry, black-and-white story.

Now, in my PERSONAL NOT PROFESSIONAL experience, shit is messy, and messiness, even in real life, doesn’t always mean something isn’t worth the strife. Though absolutely abuse and assault are a whole other thing. I think it’s really good to think critically about relationship dynamics in fiction, because it’s a safe place to do great learning and reflection. I also think it’s important to consider that the rules of our reality are not necessarily the rules of the reality being written by an author. Maybe you personally find Azriel’s feelings toward Elain (as they have been expressed so far) are beyond redemption, and are unhealthy to a point where the relationship cannot be salvaged. But that is not realistically a reason that the relationship in question won’t happen. Pretty much any negative/toxic assertions that can be leveled against Elriel based on the VERY SMALL amount of first-person perspective we have in the relationship could be leveled against at least a few of SJM’s other endgame couples. Totally happy to get into this more and provide those examples :)

Clotho was smart enough to see through his deflection. She wrote, I’ll give it to Gwyneth. Tell her a friend left it for her.

He wouldn’t go so far as to call Gwyn a friend, but... “Fine. Thank you.” Not sure what this means. Maybe just that it takes Az a while to open up to people and call them friends.

Clotho’s pen moved once more. She deserves something as beautiful as this. I thank you for the joy it shall bring her.

Something sparked in Azriel’s chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn’s teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason... he could see it. And here we have the most romantic evidence for Az and Gwyn as a couple. Maybe he is falling for her and that’s why he can picture her smile. I really don’t know. I think it could also be that he is happy to be able to make her happy, in recognition of the comfort she gave him the previous evening. Maybe he can picture her because of her potential lightsinger status. Thoughts?

But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly. The image glowing, again, lightsinger-supporting language.

A thing of secret, lovely beauty. So now he is referring to Gwyn’s smile here. This is interesting, because Gwyn’s smile wouldn’t necessarily be a secret, but perhaps it is if you think of her as being hidden in the library, or that he’ll know about her smile and her receiving the necklace even though she won’t know that he’s the one who gave it to her. Or maybe he’s drop dead in love with her! Another thing that I don’t think is true given his stony attitude post-Solstice (when Gwyn is very much around) and the fact that he doesn’t seem to react viscerally to Gwyn’s kidnapping until Cassian points out that bad things could be happening to both her AND Emerie, as well as Nesta. He knows Gwyn just as well, if not better at this point, as he knew Elain when he reacted to HER kidnapping in ACOWAR. He was very riled, he was the one who noticed she was gone, he vowed almost immediately to go get her, knowing it might mean certain death (to be fair, he seems to have a bit of a death wish, BUT he’s still a pragmatist and doesn’t try to WASTE his life on things - either they’re essential to the court and/or Prythian’s wellbeing or essential to someone for whom he cares deeply.)

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #elriel #elain archeron #rhysand #gwyn acosf #acosf #acotar theory #acosf theory #azriel bonus chapter #azriel pov #azriel x elain #lightsinger #shadowsinger

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

* ⚠️ Warnings: A lot of angst. Mentions of sex. A little fluff. People drinking alcohol. ⚠️ This one shot was never meant to be a series. All of your love and appreciation spurred me in to write more. Hope you like this chapter. I cried while I was writing it. Part 5 is the finale.

Plain Gold Ring IV:

You Don’t Know What Love Is

“How could you know how lips hurt

'Till you've kissed and had to pay the cost

Baby, 'till you've flipped your heart and you have lost

You don't know what love is” Nina Simone

———————————————————————

Being on the board of your firm’s charity gala was a huge deal. On top of your normal duties you were in charge of the silent auction. The final auction items had all arrived and you had been busy categorizing everything and preparing for the night that you barely have time to focus on the Andy and Lori situation.

Not that it wasn’t grating on your last nerve. You were so short with everyone at work that it was becoming a problem. Stan had to have a talk with you. You just had to focus and get through this event.

Andy helped as much as he could. He was supportive when you were frustrated and quickly learned when to back off. Sometimes you were up until the wee hours he would literally drag you to bed. He knew how to keep your mind off of work for a while.

You were so busy that you hadn’t even purchased a dress. You and Liz went shopping after work. She was the only person to know about you and Andy.

“What do you think of this one? Think Andy will like it?” You wore a black long sleeved gown with a v that went down to right above your belly button and a slit up to your mid thigh.

“I mean, I’d fuck you.” she deadpanned. This was the dress. You would be comfortable in it all night. You also looked like a powerful bitch who would slit your throat.

———————————————————————

You had to be at the site earlier than the guests so you did your hair and most of your makeup at home. Andy had not seen your dress on purpose. You wanted him to see you when he walked in with Lori. Your petty brain was on overdrive.

“Well you look great” Andy said pointing to your sweats.

“Shush. I’m not putting on my dress and heels until the last second. I pressed your shirt it’s hanging in your closet. I also picked up your tux from the cleaners.”

He slid his arms around you and looked at you in the mirror. “Why are you so good to me?” His hands roamed your body and made contact with your bare skin under your tshirt.

“I am gonna be late.” You swatted his hands away.

“You have four hours. Didn’t you hire party planners?”

“Yes. I still need to get my nails done and set up the auction. You can have your way with me later.”

“But I want to now” he whined. “Please. I’ll be really quick.”

You giggled , “Sounds really fun for me. You know I would never ever miss an opportunity to cum all over your cock…” your face was so close to his your lips were nearly touching. Your hands were on his chest. His were on your hips pulling you closer. “But I have to go. Bye, baby.”

“Tease! You’ll pay for that.” he called after you.

You winked at him as you headed out of the door, “I certainly hope so.”

All Andy could do was laugh. He wished he could spend this evening whisking you around the dance floor. He couldn’t wait to see how beautiful you would look tonight.

In two days you would be on your way to Chicago. The movers were already on the way with your furniture. Your suitcase was in the process of being packed. He hated it. He was taking a long weekend to help you get settled. By Wednesday morning you would have to say goodbye. His heart broke a little every time he thought about it. Every single day he wanted to say he loved you. He was reluctant to ruin what you had knowing there was no way around the inevitable.

———————————————————————

Everything was set. The only thing left was for you to get dressed. You re-sprayed your hair and put on your jewelry. You spritzed Chanel over your wrists neck and cleavage. Last thing was to coat your lips in a matte oxblood to match your nails. You looked sleek and downright terrifying. Just as you planned.

“They just walked in.” Liz whispered from the doorway.

“How does she look?”

“Pretty and appropriate.”

“How do I look?”

“Like a bad bitch. Let’s go.”

You walked out with your shoulders back and your head high. You made sure the gown swished enough to expose your legs and the impossibly high heels you wore. Andy saw you from across the room and stopped dead in his tracks. You looked like you were walking in slow motion. He almost dropped his drink.

You made a b line for Stan and his wife Elaine who were standing directly behind the other couple. He smelled your perfume wafting off of you when you walked by. He almost lost it right there.

“Y/N! What a knockout. Elaine, isn’t she gorgeous?” You kissed his cheek with the side of your mouth careful not to smear your lipstick.

“Christ, Stan. Keep it in your pants. You look beautiful, honey.”

“Thank you, Elaine. So good to see you. Lovely as always.”

“Thank you, dear. Now how is it possible you are here without a date? Stan, you work the poor thing so much she can’t even find a man. That’s why she’s leaving you.”

“And for many other reasons” you joked. You were very much aware that Andy was behind you. “Elaine have you met Andy and Lori Barber?”

You took Lori’s hand and ushered them over. “No, I haven’t. So nice to finally meet you.”

“You get to know each other. I’m going to grab a drink. Can I get anyone anything?” Such a good hostess.

“I’d love a scotch. Elaine wine?” She nodded.

“Andy?”

“You won’t be able to carry all of those drinks. Let me come with you.” Andy patted Lori on the arm. “I’ll be right back.” When you were far enough away he took a long look at you. “How long til I get to rip that dress off of you?”

Your cheeks heated, “You won’t be ripping anything. This dress cost a fortune. It’s far too pretty to ruin especially with panty lines.”

“Fuck. I’m gonna ruin that pussy.”

“Promises promises, Mr. Barber.” He groaned and adjusted his pants.

“Such a tease.”

You delivered the drinks and excused yourself. For the rest of the night Andy only caught glimpses of you. He tried not to make it obvious but Lori could see. Once upon a time he looked at her like that. Except the way he looked at you was a look of complete adoration.

You tried avoiding the Barbers all night. The whole time Andy schmoozed and did his Andy thing, his arm was around her waist. She kept her hand on his chest. They were always finding little ways to touch each other. When he kissed her temple you nearly broke the clipboard you were holding.

Stan stood next to you draining his fourth drink, “You ok there, champ? Sweet couple aren’t they?”

“Yeah. They’re adorable.” You slammed the rest of your Old Fashion.

“Reminds me of me and Katherine . Remember Katherine?”

“Was she your second or third wife? I don’t remember.” Your words were dripping with sarcasm.

“Second. Every time we had one of these things Katherine was on my arm. She was great at this shit. She’d chat it up with the partner’s wives earning me brownie points while I fucked Elaine’s brains out in the John. Know why I married Elaine? She was the best goddamn litigator I’d ever seen. Gets my dick hard every time I think about it. She lit a fire in me that couldn’t be stoked. Kind of like you do for Andy.”

You blanched, “What do you mean?”

“Oh save it. I know you’re fucking. The whole office does. I see how he looks at you. But you can’t see how you look at him. Don’t let the act fool you. He’s stupid for you. Let me keep him for a couple of months before you move him to Chicago ok? He can make us some serious money.” He patted you on the ass and went back to Elaine. She was waiting for him with a big smile that he drunkenly devoured.

——————————���————————————

The band started playing. When a slow song came on Lori took Andy’s hand. “Dance with me?”

For possibly the last time he held her. She closed her eyes, rested her head on his shoulder and let him lead her around the dance floor. He wasn’t reciprocating with the same tenderness. His eyes were held on you.

You watched him place his hand on the small of her back. The way he held her hand was a practiced action that he had perfected over sixteen years. When he let himself get lost for just a moment he was overcome with grief for himself and Lori. He pressed a kiss to her lips. Her heart fluttered and she kissed him back. You rushed out of the room when you saw them.

Lori felt her husband’s body stiffen. His hold on her loosened. It felt like he was forcing his body to stay with her. She understood why his mood shifted when she saw you leaving. She looked up at him. His eyebrows were knitted together with worry.

“How long have you been sleeping with her?” she asked quietly.

“A month. Maybe longer.” He couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t lie.

“So basically since you left.”

“My second day there. Lori, I’m so sorry. It just happened. I wasn’t looking for anything.”

“No, but you were open to something happening. Does everyone here know? Of course they do. I’m so humiliated. I think I’d like to go home.”

“I’ll get the car.”

“No. I can get myself home. This night is too important for you to leave early.”

“Lori…”

“I don’t want to be around you right now, Andy. I can’t.” She let go of his hand and left. She carried herself with poise and dignity but inside she was dying.

You were nowhere to be found. He spotted Liz who was chatting with some friends. “Where is she?”

“Auctions over. She left.”

“Shit. Thanks.”

“Andy, be gentle with her. Idiots.”

He ran to the valet and jumped in his car to race home. When he got out he noticed a suit case in the back of your car. The elevator was taking forever. He took the stairs two at a time to reach you before you got away.

He heard your heels clacking on the hardwood. Clothes were everywhere. “Y/N?”

“Bedroom.” You were still in your pretty dress. Still all made up throwing things in another suitcase.

“Going somewhere?”

“Hotel.”

“Mind telling me why?” His voice was hoarse like he had been screaming.

“The way you held her…you kissed her.” He grabbed your hands to make you look at him but you yanked them away. “This was stupid. I should have never gotten involved with you in the first place. Married men never leave. Please get out of my way, Andy. I have to go.”

“You think this was a mistake?” Slow tears rolled down his face. He undid his bow tie and sat down. “I don’t. I’m glad we met.”

“Why? Because I feel like my heart has been ripped from my chest. So why are you glad?”

“Because you reminded me what it felt like to be cared for. To feel loved. You showed me what I had been missing for a long time now.”

“Happy to have helped.” You continued emptying drawers.

“Please stop packing. Please.” You wouldn’t look at him. He tried grabbing you several times but you moved beyond his reach. “Damn it! Why? Why do you always run when things get hard?”

“I’m not running.”

“No? So Chicago just came up? Or did you put out your resume the second you heard I got the job you wanted?”

Your cheeks heated. “You know how this business works. If I got passed over this time, they’ll keep doing it.”

“Right. And tonight? The second things get weird you run.”

“You kissed her!” You were trying not to cry.

“I know. I was sad. We’ve been Andy and Lori for the majority of our lives. Tonight felt so final. I know we’ll always have Jacob but, there is nothing else there. Please. I am so in love with you. Please.” He dropped to his knees and hugged you tight around your waist.

“Andy, you have to let me go.” He pressed his face into your stomach and broke down. “Andy? Sweetie? Come on. Let go.”

“Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll let you walk out of that door. I’ll never contact you again. But I know you do.”

“Stop….”

“Aren’t you tired of running?” You were tired. You ran away from your family, former lovers, dead end jobs. You wanted to finally be settled. Leave with a clean break. There was nothing clean about this. If you said you loved him there was no going back. This would be at least three years of a long distance relationship because he won’t leave Jacob. You didn’t want him to leave his son. This would be you exhibiting a level of trust you weren’t sure you had. He fell in love with you so fast. In your absence, what would stop him from falling for someone else? You were so weak when it came to Andy. Fucking perfect at everything Andy fucking Barber. Why couldn’t you shake him? Why couldn’t you just walk away like you have been trying to do since the first time you had sex?

BECAUSE WE LOVE HIM YOU DUMB TWAT. Your brain screamed. You couldn’t make your mouth work. You ran your fingers through his hair, “I love you, Andy.”

He pulled you down onto the floor and kissed you with abandon. “Say that again.” he whispered against your mouth.

“I love you. I love you. God help me, I love you.” A smile was plastered on his face for the rest of the night. Packing could wait.

#andy barber smut #andy barber x y/n #andy barber angst #andy barber #defending jacob

[exquisitley-obsessed]

Fiancés, Firebirds, Foxes and Fawns: 2

Author: @exquisitley-obsessed​

Summary: A few weeks after Briallyn's attempt at uniting with Koschei, Lucien opens the door of Lockhart Manor to find Elain, cold from the rain and holding a note from the High Lady of the Night Court demanding her to assist Lucien in building alliances with the human councils. Forced to work together by their exhausted High Lord and Lady, Elain is able to convince anyone to do anything, while Lucien has the acquaintances to go anywhere he likes. Together, they attempt to unite the fae and mortal lands and unravel the deal made between Koschei and Vassa, while Lucien remains haunted by his own promise to Elain's father. ELUCIEN, POST-ACOSF

Pairings: Elain x Lucien, Elucien

Warnings: None.

A/N: This is going to be a long, slow burn fic (hopefully)

MY MASTERLIST

THIS FIC’S MASTERLIST

AO3

Chapter Two: Interrogations

Historically, it is well known for males to experience the mating bond more viscerally, though this is no strict criterion. For example, in the case of two males being bonded, the mating bond appears to be less demanding and settles with more ease. It is males mated to females who appear to struggle. There are many theories for this, such as male/female bonding resulting in strong offspring which drives the males to copulate. Some even argue that the male’s desire comes from the Mother’s lover himself, who’s believed to have taken fire into his soul in order to reach the Motherland and mate her, and it is a bead of this fire which awakens in males when they feel the mating bond catalysed. As such, we find there being many social customs regarding mated males, such as being wary of their ease to anger and protectiveness and their overtly increased sex drive which-

“Good book?” Feyre flopped down next to Elain, Nyx having just been placed in his cradle which appeared more like a cage given the mesh wiring over the top, ‘just so he doesn’t get any ideas about flying away’, Feyre had grinned.

“It’s okay,” Elain smiled at her sister as she marked her place and set it down.

“Oh,” Feyre grinned as she eyed the title, “Interested in the bond are we?” She was just teasing, but Elain couldn’t stop the flush in her cheeks, particularly given her recent discovery on just how, physical, the bond was.

“Well considering I do have mate, I thought it was about time I looked into it.”

“You can ask me anything,” Feyre smiled kindly. “I mean, technically you could ask Nesta too but, she still isn’t the biggest fan of Lucien.” Even hearing his name on someone else’s tongue sent a bolt of energy through Elain.

“Well, I was wondering…”

“Yeah?”

“Are they really supposed to be your soulmate?”

“Well, yes and no. That’s the problem with mating bonds, they sort of mould themselves around the two people it’s attached to. It’s different with everyone. Like me and Rhys, we have a really clear mental communication, I can talk to him even if I was on the other side of Prythian, but that’s because we’re both dementias and the bond’s playing to that strength.

“Nesta and Cassian, well, I can’t speak for them, but it seems they connect on world view. Their lives are inherently interlinked with death and that’s what connects them…amongst, other, things,” Feyre giggled, “It really is different for everyone. And sometimes, yes, the bond connects two people who don’t seem to fit with one another, like Rhys’ parents for example. I don’t know if you’ve got to this section yet,” Feyre nodded to the book, “But some see the bond as not restrained to time. That’s why you and Lucien felt the bond snap into place even before you knew each other. Some people think that when you have ‘poor’ pairings, they not really bad matches but rather, the bond saw the two for their potential rather than what they were at the time.”

Elain’s brow furrowed. She’d wanted to read the book to make herself feel better, she’d never admit it to herself, but she was somewhat looking for a big flashing sign that pointed to Lucien and said ‘He’s your soulmate! You’re a perfect match! You’ll never have to worry about be alone again!’. But reading the book had only made it more complicated. The reality was, Lucien was to have a significant role in her life, whether she wanted him to or not.

“But…I don’t know…” Elain rolled her neck, “Is it worth it?”

“Is what worth it? The bond?”

“No…well, yes. I mean,” Elain thought for a moment, “I just don’t understand how the universe could expect me to fight for someone who I don’t know.”

“Yeah, I do see how that’s a bit unfair but, do you not think the bond’s doing that on purpose?”

“What do you mean?

“Well, it looks like the bond is demanding you take a leap of faith. Giving you Lucien the minute you set eyes on him is, well, it changed your whole world, right?”

“I know,” Elain huffed.

“No, what I mean is…maybe that’s the point?” Feyre was now more talking to herself. “Maybe…” Feyre trailed off before turning and eyeing her sister up and down.

“What?” Elain implored, and Feyre just shook her head, deep in thought.

“It’s just, I’ve been trying to figure it out y’know, you and Lucien, I think we all have.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No, it’s just, he’s…well he’s loud and flirty and he can’t shut up for the life of him, it’s why he’s missing that damn eye. And you’re quiet and shy, and you just, you care about everything but…” Feyre was grinning now.

“What?”

“No, no, never mind. I just…” Feyre only smiled wider.

“No, I’m not going to say!” And then Feyre was up, collecting empty mugs from the coffee table.

“Feyre, you can’t leave, you haven’t helped me!”

“Feyre, you can’t leave, you haven’t helped me!”

“I know, I know, look, truth time,” Feyre turned back around, her smile now replaced by her High Lady look, “You’re right, you don’t know if it’s worth it. You and Lucien might turn out like Rhys’ parents, or worse…but he is your mate, and he’s not going anywhere.”

“So, what, I just proposition him next time he’s here?” Elain sighed, running a hand through her hair, feeling the same kernel of disappointment in her gut whenever she thought of Lucien on the other side of the country, avoiding the mating bond, avoiding her.

“Or you could go to him?” Elain snapped her head to her sister, who was wearing an easy smile.

“What?”

“You could go to the human lands and stay with him and his, what’s it, ‘Band of Exiles’.”

“What, just show up?”

“Actually, it’s not such a terrible idea,” Again, Feyre was now talking to herself, “Lucien’s been struggling to get the humans on board and you, well you might be perfect for the job. You understand how humans work and you had to deal with paperwork from father, not to mention the fact that quite literally no one can say no to you-”

“Lucien can,” Elain grumbled without thinking and Feyre grinned at her with a stupid, all-knowing smile.

“Elain, if you wanted, I’m sure you could have Lucien crawling around on all fours.” Elain looked away from her sister, ignoring the fact that the image popped into her mind before she could stop it, and especially ignoring the way her whole body seemed to flush in response.

“The only problem might be getting Rhys on board,” Feyre’s mind appeared to be working a mile a minute. “With what happened with Briallyn he’s a bit more, well, Rhysand than usual. And you know how he sees you.” Yes, the big brotherly talks had been slightly more regular given Nyx’s arrival. Elain supposed it was Rhysand’s subconscious way of reaching out.

“I’ll be fine if Lucien is there,” Elain shrugged non-committedly, though something zipped the length of her spine as she spoke his name aloud. One thing Elain, and everyone else could be certain of, is that Lucien would keep her safe.

“Look at you trying to manipulate around your High Lord.”

“Not manipulate-”

“I know, I know,” Feyre grinned as she peered over the edge of Nyx’s crib. “Look, on a serious note, there is work that needs doing down in the human lands if you’re up for it. After Briallyn we need a stronger base to represent the fae in the mortal world. Some more eyes and ears wouldn’t hurt and, quite frankly, whilst Lucien knows exactly how to work a court of fae, I don’t know how well he’s faring with councils of humans.”

Elain thought for a moment, truly considering what it would mean if she were to take on this role. It would mean accepting responsibility, being held accountable if she made a mistake, one that couldn’t fixed with some new seeds and freshly turned soil. She’d be on the other side of the world, away from her sisters – away from Nesta – for the first time, well, ever.

“I…” Elain began softly, “I think I’d like to go.”

“Really?” Despite Feyre’s enthusiasm in discussing Elain’s potential in leaving, it was clear that she was still mostly expecting Elain to pass on the opportunity.

“I can’t tend to my little gardens forever,” Elain shrugged, “With Lucien there I should be perfectly safe and, well, it’s human territory. I know those lands, arguably better than you and Nesta.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Feyre nodded furiously, though she seemed to not really be listening to her older sister, her mind was already helping Elain pack her dresses. “I’ll speak with Rhysand and sort out the particulars.”

“Will you,” Elain blushed without meaning to, “Will you warn Lucien? That I’m coming?” Feyre shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“I don’t have to. Technically, as his High Lady I can do whatever I want, and he just has to roll with it.”

“Okay,” Elain let loose a breath, “Don’t tell him then. I’d just…I’m not sure. I suppose I’d just rather not spook him.”

“Whatever you say sis,” Feyre grinned, and Elain allowed her own lips to mirror her sisters, the excitement and reality of the adventure she was about to undertake truly setting in. Feyre turned to leave.

“Oh Feyre…let’s not tell Nesta…at least not till I’m already gone.”

***

“Hello, earth to Lucien?”

“What? Oh...sorry, go on,” Lucien muttered, shifting is attention back to Vassa whom he was supposed to be chatting to. This was their routine, when the sun finally dipped under the horizon and Vassa returned to her mortal form, she’d waltz into the manor before disappearing upstairs to change from the cloak she left out for herself into a queen’s gown. Today she’d come down wearing a deep crimson dress made of velvet, grumbling about how the storm that was currently beating against the windows, had quite literally ruffled her feathers. The evening was then to be spent in the Manor’s sitting room, sprawled on velvet couches as Jurian informed Vassa of the recent developments regarding the human councils, and Lucien told her of the fae lands.

Normally, Lucien would last till the early hours of the morning before leaving Vassa to whatever activities she wished to complete before the sun rose and her body was changed back into that of a firebird. But these past few nights Lucien had caught himself staying awake till almost sunrise, only getting an hour or two sleep before he was up again, his body alive with energy as he strode out into the woods in the early morning light.

Everything about Lucien felt unsettled and alive, and it had been that way since the previous week when Lucien had woke to his mate’s tears running down his cheeks. What could’ve upset her so badly? Had something happened at the Night Court? He would be lying if he said he hadn’t been waiting for a note from Rhysand or Feyre informing him of a terribly tragic event that had occurred when he was on the other side of the world. Even if nothing had happened, it could of, and Elain could’ve been seriously hurt. What was he doing on this side of the world? He should be there, even if she didn’t know what she wanted, at least he could keep her safe while she thought. But with no note, he didn’t know why sweet Elain was so agonisingly sad, and there was no reason besides the bond’s invasion of privacy for him to see her. But it seemed that he couldn’t relax until he found the cause of her pain. Found it and burned it to ashes.

“Lucien!”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Dinner, tomorrow evening, Nolan Manor – Mother did you get any of that?” Vassa’s eyes were light and her tone teasing, but Lucien was feeling more beast than man with his bond so wound up.

“No offence, Vassa, but I think you might be finally losing it if you think I’d be interested in dinner at the Nolan’s.” Lucien rolled his shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension as he looked back down at the book he’d been pretending to read for the past hour. He could feel Vassa’s eyes on him, assessing him as she always did whenever he came into conversation, which was far too often for his liking.

“Are you still on that?” Vassa eventually huffed, tucking her legs up under herself on the armchair. Lucien just raised a brow at her. Had anything changed? Was Graysen any less of a dickhead? If not, then yes, he supposed he was still on that.

“Our dear Lucien’s a mated male, Vassa,” Jurian quipped without raising his head from his paperwork. “It’s how these things work.”

“But it’s not really fair on Graysen is it?” Vassa flicked a fiery strand of hair over her shoulder.

“Not fair?” Lucien ground the two words out, feeling something animalistic rear its head inside of him. But beyond the primal urges of the bond and any threats to it, Lucien did genuinely dislike the boy. What he did to Elain was beyond cruel, and if he had done that to anyone Lucien would’ve still disliked the boy, granted he might not be baring his teeth at Vassa as he was doing now.

“He did give us the manor, Lucien,” the queen’s voice taunted him.

“One act of kindness doesn’t make him any less of an asshole,” Lucien’s own voice was low and daunting, as though he were daring Vassa to make another comment. Lucien hadn’t intended for his tone to turn brutal and dark, but Vassa clearly had no education in the expectations of a mated male.

“No, but he’s still the asshole putting a roof over our heads,” Vassa sighed, setting her book down. “Does it really upset you?”

“What?”

“Having him help us?”

“We don’t need his help.”

“No,” Vassa cocked her head, “But it’s certainly been of great use.”

“You like him?” Lucien spat, feeling something sour flood his gums as he pulled on his inner leash. Vassa was his friend. Vassa was supposed to be his friend, and Lockhart Manor was supposed to be the place in which he could escape from the demands of this bond.

“He didn’t do anything to me,” Vassa shrugged nonchalantly, “In fact, all he’s been to me is kind and accommodating. Why should I have a problem with him?”

“You know why.” Something feral was awakening in Lucien as he spat those three words at the queen, and in response to the autumn son’s anger, the fire flared dangerously, filling the room with the sound of snapping wood.

“Really?” Vassa’s eyes widened slightly as she assessed Lucien, evidentially amused by his grip on the chair’s armrests and the deathly look in his eye. “That girl can do this to you when she hasn’t even shown her face in-”

“Vassa,” Jurian’s sing-song voice curled into the air from where he was hunched over the worktable, signing off contracts, “Whilst it’s delicious to poke the beast, you can only go so long before it’ll bite.”

“Maybe that’s what I was hoping for,” Vassa shrugged nonchalantly as she inspected her nails. Lucien just glared into the fire, done with this conversation and done with his friends, at least for the night. Sometimes they forgot that he wasn’t like them, that he was fae, and he more or less operated in an entirely different world to them. He couldn’t blame them though, sometimes he forgot too.

Talking of Graysen had Lucien’s thoughts once more swirling of Elain. Though there was no concern in these thoughts, just admiration. He was picturing her in the cream gown she’d worn when he’d come one day to hand deliver a stack of reports to Rhysand. It was made of cotton and lace, the same hearty materials so often found in towns of Autumn. It was so unlike the favoured revealing cuts of Night Court fashion, and so Elain in every sense. The soft gold and white colours, the layered skirts and fluttering sleeves. Looking at her as she tucked herself into a small ball on a sofa, a hefty book balanced on her lap, Lucien had wished that he’d met Elain when she was human, when she was happy and content. Maybe then she would just see him for, well, him. Not a reminder of everything terrible that had happened to her.

“I’m sorry about prodding Lucien,” Vassa smiled at him, pulling him from his thoughts as her freckled cheeks dimpled. “Can I make it up to you by letting you beat me at cards?” She was baiting him, daring him to bite back that no one ‘let’ Lucien do anything but, tonight Lucien was tired. Of everything.

“I’m tapping out,” was all Lucien said in response, standing from his armchair and throwing his book down behind him. The storm was now torrential, and Lucien welcomed the chaos, somewhat comforted by the idea of lying down in the dark and listening to the rain batter against the windows as he brooded himself to sleep.

So, Lucien set off for the stairs, happy to leave his friends to themselves for the rest of the night, but he’d only managed to cross the room before a short, shy knock reverberated from the front door and sent a wave of cautious silence and shock throughout the room.

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