Tumgik
#SEVERAL AZRIEL ONES VANISHED
hellcat8908 · 3 months
Text
A Solstice To Celebrate Azriel x Reader
The third and final part of the Solstice series. Hope you enjoy. It's a bit of a long one.
Voices filter into the hallway from the dining room. You feel your chest tighten, worried about what they'll think. Azriel gives your hand a reassuring squeeze as he leans in, gently reminding you to breathe. Azriel releases your hand just outside the dining room, not wanting to draw attention from what you're about to tell everyone. He takes a seat next to Rhys as the conversations quiet down once you're in the room. "Glad to see you feeling better." Mor tells you with a smile. You give her a soft smile in return, "I'm sorry if I worried any of you." You say sheepishly. "All that matters is you're okay." Rhys says as his eyes meet yours. "Thank you." You respond.
"So there's something I want you to know that will hopefully explain some of my weirder behavior lately." You say as you start fidgeting with your hands. "I don't really celebrate Solstice, not since my wings were taken." You admit before continuing, deciding to rip the metaphorical bandage off. "My husband took them in a fit of rage. When I gifted him the wrong sword, he used it to cut the wings from my back as punishment." You refuse to make eye contact with anyone as you allow them to process what you've said. You hear several swear under their breaths before Azriel demands to know where your husband is.
"He's dead. Once I was healed and had enough strength, I killed him and burnt the house down around him." You tell him. "The village where I found you..." Rhys says but trails off in thought. "That was my home. The tree behind the foundation is where it happened." You finish his sentence for him. You can feel the building rage coming from Azriel as he dwells on what you've said. You try to calm him through the bond, but his shadows still swirl around him agitated. "What happened when you went back after leaving here?" Rhys asks. "I winnowed there not knowing where else to go. When I saw the rubble that used to be the house and the tree where it happened, everything came flooding back, and it was like I was reliving it all over again." You answer calmly.
You watch as Azriel's body shifts, and before anyone realizes what happened, you vanish with him carrying you outside and into the night. As soon as he clears the wards, his shadows surround you in darkness before clearing to an open field with a cabin close by. "Where are we?" You ask, trying to get your bearings. "Rhys's cabin." Azriel answers before carrying you inside and starting a fire to warm the place up. "Why are we here?" You ask, confused. "So I can do this." He says before wrapping his arms around you and kisses you. You return his kiss as your arms wrap around him. He reluctantly breaks the kiss, "Are you hungry?" Your stomach growls in response, causing Azriel to laugh. "I'll take that as a yes." He says before moving towards the kitchen.
He stops searching the cupboards as he zones out a bit. You watch for a few minutes, taking in his expressions. Once he focuses on finding something to cook again, you ask, "Rhys?" He turns his attention to you and nods. Before you feel him against your mental shield. "Guess it's my turn." You say before allowing Rhys in. "What the hell is going on?! Are you alright? Where are you?" He bombards you with questions, a hint of concern in his tone. "I'm fine, and we're at your cabin." You answer. "That's two out of the three questions answered." He presses. "You'll have to ask the spymaster the answer to your other question." You say with a smile. "We'll discuss it when you're both back. Are you sure you're ok?" He asks. "I'm sure." You reassure him.
"Well, that was fun." You say as you turn your focus back to Azriel. "Sorry." He says with a smirk. "No, you're not," you tease, "I think it would've been less dramatic if you'd just kissed me in front of everyone." Azriel finally finds some soup to make for you, "Where is the fun in that? Besides, I wanted our first kiss to be just for us." He says. You blush at his thoughtfulness as you watch him cook. "Since you're making me food, does this mean you still want the mating bond?" You ask nervously, "even though I'm damaged goods?" He stops stirring the soup and turns the stove off before coming over to you. He gently takes your hands in his as you look up at him. "You may be a lot of things, angel, but damaged isn't one of them."
"Have you had to go through some cruel events, yes, but you never gave up. You kept pushing through it and came out the other side. I'll never see you as damaged, and I refuse to let you see yourself as damaged." He says, cradling your face in his hands. You lean into his warmth, finding comfort in his words. "Let's get you fed." He says with a smile as he resumes making you soup. Once it's hot and ready, he brings you a bowl with some crackers. Your stomach growls at the delicious scent before you gently blow on a spoonful to cool it. Azriel brings his bowl over and sits beside you on the couch.
"You do realize the implications of you making me food, right?" You say nervously. "I do. I want nothing more than to love you the way you deserve to be loved." He says as he studies the spoonful inches from your mouth. You give him a shy smile before savoring the soup. You feel the bond ignite at the acceptance, and suddenly, everything feels more intense. Azriel feels the shift, but before you can move to him, he tells you to finish eating first. You secretly love that he is more worried about you being taken care of than having you.
"We have the rest of our lives for that, but you need to eat." He says, almost as if he can read your mind. The two of you finish the bowls while listening to the crackling of the fire. You move to grab Azriel's empty bowl, but he holds it out of reach, "I'll get it, angel you just rest while I clean up." You stop him, "you cooked, so I'll clean." You tell him as you move to take his bowl again. "We'll both clean." He says as he rises and takes his bowl to the kitchen. "You and your compromises." You say as you trail behind him. "Get used to it." He says over his shoulder. There isn't much to clean up, so you're done in a matter of minutes.
Azriel picks you up and carries you towards the hallway. "Is this going to be a regular thing? You picking me up and carrying me off to wherever you want me?" You ask with a laugh. "It just might be." He says as you enter the bedroom. He carefully lays you on the bed. You pull him in beside you as your lips find his in a passionate kiss, unable to control yourself any longer. His fingers tangle in your hair as he pulls you close to him, returning the kiss. Your hands trail under his shirt, feeling his hard abs as they slide up his muscled chest. "I need you, Azriel." You moan as your lips break from his. "I know, angel, I need you too." He groans as your lips trail along his neck.
The next morning, you wake up wrapped in his arms with his wings shielding you from the sunlight. He stirs as you move to get up. "Stay, it's still early." He mumbles half asleep. "I need to use the girls' room." You tell him. "Hurry up." He says as he reluctantly lets go of you. You give a small laugh as you climb out of bed. You return as quickly as you can, and Azriel wraps you back up in his arms. Your head rests on his chest, "It's too early to be thinking that hard." He mutters. You smile and turn to face him. He opens one eye to find you staring. "Guess we're done sleeping. What's on your mind?" You suddenly turn nervous, causing him to sit up and hold you in his lap. "Was I too rough last night? I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asks with his voice full of concern as he searches for visible marks or injuries.
"No, you were amazing last night." You reassure him. "Then what is it?" He asks softly, meeting your eyes. "I've been thinking, and I know it's last minute, but I think I want to try to celebrate Solstice with everyone." You tell him waiting for his reaction. Azriel brushes stray hair out of your face and tucks it behind your ear, "I will support you and help you any way I can but I need to know you're wanting to do this for you and nobody else. I want you to be ready and feel pushed or rushed." He says after a few moments of thought. "I gave it some thought, and I think I'm ready. I don't want the past to have any control over my future." You answer him honestly. "I'm here for whatever you need, angel." He says with a gentle kiss. "There are a few things I need your help with." You admit before telling him, feeling excited when he agrees.
You find yourself sitting next to Azriel in Rhys's office. "Is someone going to tell me what that was about?" He says as he leans back in his chair. "I think Azriel should be the one to tell you since it was his stunt." You answer with a grin. "Thanks, y/n. Real mature." He teases. "Someone just explain what that was about!" Demands Rhys as he looks between the two of you. "I wanted some alone time with my mate." Azriel says much to the shock of Rhys. "Did you know?" Rhys asks, looking at you. "No, I didn't know he was going to haul me off." You answer. "I meant, did you know about the bond." Rhys states. "Oh yeah, I learned about it yesterday and accepted it last night." You answer while looking at Azriel.
"You could've told the rest of us. So we had some idea what was going on." Rhys says as he rubs his temples. "Where's the fun in that?" Azriel asks while taking your hand in his. "Besides, I thought I'd dropped enough on everyone last night to start with." You add. Rhys stares at the two of you trying to read you. "Well, I'm happy for both of you as long as you're happy." He finally says, seeming content with the news. "Thank you." You tell him. "Azriel, you better treat her right after everything she's already been through." Rhys teases. "You know I will." Azriel says with a smile. "I'll let you announce it to the rest of the circle when you're ready." Rhys says before dismissing the two of you.
Once you're outside, Azriel takes your hand, "Ready to do some shopping?" He asks. "Ready as I'll ever be." You answer nervously. He pulls you into his side, wrapping his arm around you. "I'll be right here every step of the way. You've got this." He says with a reassuring smile as you head towards the shops. At first, you're second guessing everything you point out, only causing yourself to feel frustrated and defeated. Sensing your distress, Azriel pulls you aside and places your hand over his heart. "Breathe, angel. Focus on my heartbeat and breathe." Once he feels you calming down, he lowers your hand after placing a soft kiss to your knuckles.
"No matter what you pick out, they are going to love it. You know them and what they like. You just have to trust yourself." He tries to reassure you making you feel a little better. "You can do this, just trust yourself." He continues before pulling you into a jewelry store to find something for Amren. After finding a beautiful bracelet and purchasing it, your shopping trip becomes easier and even enjoyable. You're looking for a gift for Cassian when Azriel excuses himself, telling you he'll be right outside for a few minutes. You nod in acknowledgment before finding a cologne perfect for Cassian. By the time you've checked out, Azriel is back.
"I hate to cut this short, but Cassian needs my help at the house." He says with a frown. "It's okay, I was about done anyways. Go help him and I'll meet you at the house in a bit." You tell him with a smile. "You sure you're okay?" He asks. "I only have one more gift to get, and I'll be home." You tell him before kissing him softly, "Now go help Cass." You instruct him. "I'll see you at home." He says before turning and taking off towards the house of wind. You make your way towards the bladesmith shop. You shield the bond before your nerves get the best of you. Once you're inside your breathing shallows but you fight to maintain control.
You notice the beautiful work on each blade and the attention to detail. You admire several as you fight the urge to turn and run. You continue to browse until you see the perfect piece. You start to seconds guess yourself as you hold it, Azriel's earlier words coming back to you about trusting yourself. Before you can second guess yourself again, you purchase it and walk out of the shop with the bag added to your others. Your heart racing with excitement and pride that you actually managed to do it. You got a gift for everyone now. You just needed to take them home and wrap them. You had Rhys take you home to the house of wind. Azriel was still busy helping Cassian, so you started wrapping gifts.
You had just finished wrapping the last one when Azriel knocked on the door. His was the first one you wrapped and hid out of sight. He let himself in as you tucked Amren's present with the rest of them. "How did it go with Cassian?" You ask. "Good, just needed some help with last-minute Soltice decorations Feyre and Nesta wanted to put up. "Are you ready for tomorrow?" He asks. "Got all my shopping done, and the presents are wrapped, so I would say so." You answer. "That's not what I meant, angel." He responds. "I know, but honestly, I'm excited and nervous about tomorrow. I don't want to ruin their Solstice." You admit. He pulls you into his lap on the bed. "You wouldn't ruin anyone's Solstice. They'll be thrilled you even attempted." He says, making you feel a little better.
That night, you struggled to sleep as Solstice drew closer. Even wrapped in Azriel's arms, you were a knotted mess of nerves and anxiety. "Angel, it's late. You need to get some rest." Azriel mumbled. "I'm nervous." You answer softly. "Talk to me." He says as he sits up. "No, you need to get some sleep. I'll be ok." You try to assure him. "If you're up, I'm up. Now talk to me." He says, rubbing his face. "It's just jitters about tomorrow and celebrating my first Solstice since you know." You say. "Everything will be fine, and the first hint you're not alright, we'll leave." He says, reminding you what you talked about. "What if they're mad I show up unannounced?" You ask. "Nobody will be mad. They will be happy to see you regardless if you stay the whole time or not."
He gently pulls you against him so your head is on his chest. "Angel, I promise you have nothing to worry about. You have nothing to prove to anyone. You take as long as you need to work through this, and I promise to be here every step of the way." He kisses the top of your head and pulls the blankets over you. He gently rubs your back as you listen to his heart. As you start to drift, you mumble, "I love you, Azriel." He smiles as it'll the first time you've said it. "I love you too, y/n. Sweet dreams." He says as he gently plays with your hair until you're both asleep.
You stand in front of your closet, struggling to find something to wear. Azriel walks in with a box, "I thought you might like to wear this." He says as he hands you the box. You open it and recognize the dress Mor had bought for you. "Oh, Azriel, I can't..." You start but are interrupted when he tells you to look at the back. Once you pull it out and turn it around, your eyes quickly find his. "Azriel..." You start but are lost for words. "I had the seamstress alter it. I know you hated to return it, and after learning why I knew I needed to get it." He says. "It's just as beautiful with a back." You say excitedly as you hold it up to yourself. "Go ahead, put it on." He urges as you unzip the back and step into it. "Oh, Az. It's stunning and fits perfectly." You announce after looking in the mirror.
You anxiously stand outside the river house. "Are you ready?" Azriel asks beside you. "Ready as ever." You answer though you're filled with anxiety as you hear everyone gathered. Azriel leads you inside, taking your coat and hanging it up with his. He leads you into the living room where everyone is gathered. "Y/n!" Mor shouts with excitement as she comes to hug you. "Why didn't you tell us you were coming?" She asks. "I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up in case I didn't." You admit. "All that matters is you're here now." She says before pulling you closer to the festivities. Azriel sends a wave of calming love along the bond as you sit beside Mor. Feyre offers you a drink that you gladly accept. After a while of conversation, you finish your drink as it helps calm your nerves.
"It's time for presents." Rhys announces as a stack of presents appears in the center. Him and Feyre start passing them out as Azriel moves to stand beside you. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you in close, warming your body with his. "Are you okay?" He asks barely above a whisper. "So far." You whisper back. Once the presents are handed out, everyone starts opening them. Your breath catches as you notice some of the presents you bought being opened. Mor loves the dress you got her but quickly frowns, "We didn't get you anything." She says, feeling guilty. "All I wanted for Solstice was to be with the ones I care about and who care about me enough to accept me for who I am." You tell her with a smile. "You all are amazing people, and I'm very lucky to have each of you as friends." You tell them all.
Once the presents have been opened, you manage to steal Azriel away. Once in the privacy of one of the guest rooms, you tell him you have a present for him. "Angel, you didn't have to get me anything. As long as I have you, that's all I need." He says. "You're all I need too, love. I still got you something, though." You pull out the small package and hand it to him. He carefully tears the paper and opens the box. "Do you like it?" You can't help but ask. He pulls out the dagger and gets a feel for it in his hand. "I love it! It's almost as beautiful as you." He says with a genuine smile. He admires the details from the damascus blade to the blue handle with silver pins. "Happy Solstice, love." You wish him. "Happy Solstice, angel." He says before pulling you into his arms and kissing you.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~
@anuttellaa
@hnyclover
@fightmedraco
140 notes · View notes
sapphenaa · 8 months
Text
winter's frost part two | azriel x fem!reader
Summary: After a rather abrupt ending to your Starfall celebration, you find yourself on death's edge, and only the touch of your mate can lull you to safety.
Warnings: violence, bloodshed, cursing, nudity, smut
part one
“How the hell did they get here?” You cried out, your magic surging towards the vicious creature, severing one of its heads with a blade of ice.
You had barely any time to change into your fighting attire before scrambling into the fight, and the same had been said for Kallias. The two of you and three guards had been fighting for what seemed like hours, struggling to behead the beasts. They held seven heads each, the most you had ever seen.
One of the heads lunged, narrowly missing your arm as you fired again, your magic steadily dwindling. A fatal scream filled your ears, and out of the corner of your eye you saw a guard get ripped to shreds. With gritted teeth you called to the ether, letting blue wisps seep from your palms and form three wolves made of sharply cut ice.
“I have no idea.” Kallias called as he battled his own monster, now only bearing three heads and close to its looming death. You focused, vision straight-lining towards the next Naga that wasn’t currently being ravaged by your wolves. It set its eyes on you and came barreling towards you with an ear-piercing screech. A claw swiped and made contact with your abdomen, throwing you to the snow-covered ground. You threw back your own hit, severing two heads with three blades, the third a whisper in the wind as it imbedded itself into a tree.
You struggled to stand, the pain almost unbearable as your blood hit the ground, but you had to keep going. Its teeth were threatening your flesh, and you were keen on not letting it.
“I am going to slaughter the monster that set these upon us,” you muttered before laying down a path of ice toward the Naga. As you slid, you unsheathed two blades and dug them up into the underbelly as you gained momentum. You slowed once you reached the snow and rolled back onto your feet, dodging a head and severing another. The monster, now gutted, was easy to kill. You cleaved off the heads that remained and shot three blades into the air. They reached their target, and the Naga that was terrorizing the guards fell to the ground.
Your wolves skulked back to you as the last Naga withered underneath Kallias’ well-placed blade. With a heavy breath you slumped to the ground, dropping your swords and pressing your hands against the wound on your abdomen. The wolves vanished as your magic subsided. Your vision was waning and you were barely able to see Kallias as he came upon you.
“Fuck, Y/N.” He dropped to the ground next to you and added his hands to yours, digging them into your skin as you grimaced.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” you laughed, letting your eyes close.
“Get me a healer!” Feet shuffled, and you assumed that the two guards scurried off to complete his request. Kallias lifted you, a groan leaving your lips as he adjusted you into his arms. “Open your eyes.” You tried, you really did, but the wind and the falling snow wrenched them shut once again. 
“Kal, I need to tell you something.” You murmured, feeling woozy from the blood loss. He hurried his steps, outright sprinting to your home where a healer would no doubt be waiting.
“You can tell me later.”
“No, Kal, I need to tell you now. I met my mate at Starfall.” Your breathing was ragged, your hands weakening, no longer able to stop the blood from seeping out.
“I know, I saw.” He huffed, throwing his shoulder into the door. You were encompassed in warmth, soft cushions pressing against your back as he set you down gingerly. “You can see him again once we get you healed.”
“Yeah.” He slapped your cheek, hard enough to sting, but not enough to seriously hurt. Your eyes flew open as he held your face in his hands, his icy eyes glaring into yours.
“Don’t tell me you’re giving up now. You’re not dying in a fight with some idiotic Nagas.” You chuckled, blood trickling out of the side of your mouth.
“No, I’m not dying. I’m just tired.”
“Sleep later.” He commanded before removing himself and letting the healer take his spot beside you. She smiled solemnly at you before placing her hands over your abdomen and closing her eyes.
“Oh my gods,” a female voice sounded. You turned your tired eyes to stare at Viviane who stood by the stairs, still in her gown, a hand over her mouth. Kallias slid past the healer and wrapped her into his arms, murmuring words into her ear that you didn’t quite hear.
“Can you send for him?” You asked into the air, wincing as your wound slowly knitted itself shut under kind hands. “My mate. Can you ask him to come?” Kallias pulled away from his own mate and, with a nod, headed upstairs towards his study. Viviane came to you then, settling herself above your head, smoothing your hair down.
“How many were there?” She asked, her voice soothing like a dove’s. You struggled to recall, having not bothered to count in the midst of the fight.
“Four, maybe five. Maybe more, I can’t remember.” She nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.
“You did well. We’re going to figure out who’s the cause of this.” You reached a bloodied hand up to wrap around her wrist, searching for comfort as the pain began to lessen.
“And once you find them, give them to me. I’ll make them regret messing with the Winter Court.” Viviane chuckled.
“I know you will, darling.”
Kallias returned then, scarlet dripping from his clothes and hair. “I sent Rhys a letter,” he stated, coming to stand beside Viviane. He rested a hand on your shoulder, a grim smile pulling at his lips. “He’ll be here soon.”
“Good.” You mumbled, sending Kallias as warm of a smile as you could muster before looking up at the silver-haired female. “Did you see, Viviane?” The healer was nearly done now, but the blood loss was starting to get to you. “Did you see that I found my mate?” She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
“I did. I’m happy for you, Y/N.” You smiled as well, looking up at her and your brother, no longer feeling a sense of jealousy toward their connection. Now you had your own, your other half, and he was on his way. You blushed at the thought.
The healer removed her hands from your skin, wiping them off on the apron that she wore. “You should sleep now, My Lady. Let the rest of your healing take its toll overnight.” You nodded, a quiet ‘thank you’ leaving your lips as she disappeared from your line of sight.
“Do you have any ideas of who did this, Brother?” He didn’t answer, but rather laid a fur blanket on top of your form. The action had you realize that you were shivering.
“We’ll talk about it later. For now, get some rest.” So you did. The second you closed your eyes, you drifted off.
Your dreams were filled with shadows and amber hues. It was comforting, not a single nightmare afflicting your hallucinating mind. But rather, you knew he was there, keeping your thoughts safe and your pain at ease. He even appeared, too. His eyes were alight with that familiar sparkle, his lips set in a soft smile, shadows circling his head akin to a halo.
“Azriel,” you called out, and he came to you, arms outstretching before he wrapped them around you. “You remind me of a falling star.” You mumbled into his shoulder, embracing the warmth that radiated off of his body as he embraced you.
A chuckle brought you seamlessly out of your slumber, and as you opened your eyes, hazel irises met yours. You blinked lazily, surveying his face as a cat would with a butterfly. Curiously, happily, intrigued. “You’re here?” You croaked out the question, bringing your fingers up to caress his cheek.
“You said my name in your sleep.” You reciprocated his smile as your hand dropped onto your stomach.
“I was dreaming about you.” He quirked a brow and your cheeks flushed as you came to realize his interpretation. You softly slapped his shoulder as a squeak left your lips. “No, not like that, you fool.” He threw his head back and laughed, shoulders shaking as his laughter continued in silence.
“You were dreaming about me.”
“Oh shut up.” You remarked, feeling heat roaring up your neck and face even stronger than before. You shifted, trying to sit up to see him better. His hands helped guide you, pressing softly against the skin that sat in between your shoulder blades.
“How are you feeling?” He asked as he came to sit beside you, shoulders brushing. A wing curled around you, and you sighed out at the warmth that felt so similar to your dream.
“Better, but I need to bathe.” Azriel nodded at that and crinkled his nose in mock disgust. You went to swat at him again, but he clasped your hand in his and kissed it, not minding the dried blood that was flaking off of your skin.
“I fear we never finished what we started at Starfall.” He murmured, inching closer to you, brushing his nose against your cheek as he held your hand firmly against his chest.
“You mean you want to kiss me?” You mocked with a sardonic smile. Azriel nodded eagerly, placing a kiss just below your ear. Your eyes fluttered shut involuntarily as you let out a gentle sigh. “I want our first kiss to not have me covered in blood.” He stood at that, tugging on your hand.
“Then let’s get you cleaned up.” You tried to stand, but phantom pain shot through your abdomen. Azriel let go of your hand and wrapped his arms around your waist to help you stand. You leaned against him, letting him lead you to the stairs with staggered steps. He brought the two of you up the stairs, yourself practically useless as sleep drudged in your veins. But he was patient, and he was kind, and gods he was ethereal, like he was a god himself.
You pointed him towards your chambers and he opened the doors, stepping in and leading you to the only other door. He sat you down on a chair before rolling his sleeves up and turning on the bath’s faucet. Water spurted out, immediately steaming up the spacious room and you heaved out a relieved sigh.
“Do you need any help or do you have it from here?” He questioned, amber eyes admiring you even in your post-battle state. You smiled lazily and stood on shaky knees, gripping the arm of the chair as you faltered.
“I might need help, if that’s alright,” you whispered, shame tinting your cheeks at the thought of him seeing you bare in such a state. In mere seconds he was before you, hands on your waist as he led you over to the bath and set you on the edge. He made quick work of your shirt, peeling it from your skin. Azriel then went to your boots, untying each lace and throwing them into the corner where your shirt ended up. Then came your socks, then your trousers, and you were left in a bra and panties.
Red tinged his neck as he kept his eyes away from your body. You sucked in a breath, eyes shutting as you braced yourself. You tried to undo your bra, but your fingers stumbled.
“You can look.” Your voice was near-silent. You so wished to shy away from his eyes, not let him see you, but you knew it was impossible to bathe when your body still felt so ragged. Help was needed and he was willing. Azriel’s eyes met yours before trailing down your body, taking in every little scar that peeked through your blood coated skin. He reached behind you and unclasped your bra with ease, lifting you up in his arms to take care of the last of your underclothes. Carefully he dipped you into the water once the clothes were on the floor and you let out a blissful moan.
“Gods, this is nice.” He chuckled, dipping a rag in the water before running it over the back of your shoulders. The two of you sat like that for a while, the silence comforting as he gently removed every speck of blood from your skin. His touch was welcome, you thought, now that the embarrassment and shame had washed away in the dirtied water. You leaned back into him, the back of your head coming to rest on his shoulder as he cleaned your collarbones and dipped, dipped down to your breasts. 
When it came to your legs, he handed you the rag and and pressed circles into your shoulders, removing the tension from the muscles. With your head lifted as you focused, his lips came to the side of your neck, trailing kisses and nips up to the bottom of your ear before moving down the path he had carved. You dropped the rag in the water when you were done and scooched forward, dunking your head and mussing your hair.
As you came back up, his hands massaged your head with soap that smelled of white tea and violets. You floated down again, washing out the soap, and you took the towel he offered as you rose above the water. The bath seemed to wake you, your body thrumming, that electric pulse vibrating underneath your skin. You stepped out of the bath as you wrapped yourself up and you smiled at him. Pure and utterly holy as you stepped toward him, one hand holding your towel as the other sunk into the hair at the nape of his neck.
You pulled him closer and breathed in his scent of pine and cedar before joining your lips, moving in tandem with softness and love. Love–even though you had met only the night before, you felt the love in your chest, in the bond that held you together and you tugged, filtering those emotions into his soul. The same was sent back, a wave of undying love and hope and anticipation as he brought you ever so closer, chest against chest, lips against lips, hands tangling in hair.
Falling, you were falling so hard and so fast. You dropped your hand, the towel long forgotten as you brought it up to his jaw and held him as close as the universe would allow. He deepened the kiss with a nibble at your bottom lip, tongue meeting yours in the middle, moving with the synchronicities and familiarities of old lovers.
He felt right; the piece of the puzzle you were missing finally in place, setting into motion what the Mother had granted your two souls. Azriel lifted you up into his arms and walked out of the bathing room before setting you on the bed and climbing on top of you, lips disconnecting as he trailed those sweet kisses down your neck, along your collarbones, and down to your breasts. He suckled a nipple into his mouth, a free hand caressing the other and you gasped, threading your fingers into his hair again. Your core was on fire, pain and lethargy forgotten in the water of the bath.
“Az,” you breathed out as he released your nipple and drifted those plush lips down your stomach, landing on the inside of your thigh and making his way to your knee. He looked up at you then, those amber eyes as dark as hot caramel and as rich as the taste. Those kisses went back up, a shudder going through you as he placed a chaste one over your bud, then licked a stripe up your clit. A sigh came from you then as he connected, bliss shutting your eyes, tightening your grip on his hair, sigh after sigh after moan falling out of your lips as he worked.
His tongue felt sacrificial on your clit, those shadows of his swirling around your wrists and arms and head, bathing you in a divine darkness. You felt a coil in your stomach, ready to burst at any second as you repeated his name over and over again. Euphoria released itself, washing over you, a sacred promise of more to come as he worked you through it, one hand holding your stomach down, the other pushing your thighs open.
As you came down from your high, he lifted his head and wiped his chin, a muted chuckle leaving his throat. 
“Gods,” you muttered, untangling your fingers from his dark locks and guiding him back up to your lips. His body dwarfed yours, bulge digging into your already sensitive core as you devoured each other in unholy matrimony. You swiftly lifted his shirt and he pulled away to bring it over his head and throw it. He came back down, lips moving with yours in tandem as you hurriedly tried to undo the laces of his trousers. Azriel shrugged them off, boxers joining them on the floor. He unconnected your lips, eyes opening to search yours, an unasked question swirling around in those russet irises. 
“Yes,” you voiced, and that was all the confirmation he needed. He guided himself to your clit, gliding up and down to collect your slick before slowly pushing in. A guttural moan left you as he leisurely slid himself in until he bottomed out and waited with shut eyes. You whined and bucked your hips, an unworded sign for him that he took with a grunt. He pulled out slowly and pushed back in, eyelids fluttering open to watch as ecstasy took over your features. It stayed like that, eyes searching the other's as he made love to you, as he soaked up every sound you made, every twitch, every tremble until you were coming undone once again underneath him.
You clenched around his length and he moved faster, more desperately as he came upon his own demise, sinking deeper and deeper into you. His lips found yours again as he thrust in one last time, letting his own release take over him, relishing in the feel of your lips against his, of your skin against his, bodies covered in sweat and souls filled with adoration.
He fell upon you then, a kiss placed at the junction of your throat and collarbone. “I love you,” he whispered into your sticky skin, and you whispered it right back, holding him against you and stroking his hair. Sleep threatened to lull you back into its grasp, so he pulled out and clung to you like he would never be able to again. Azriel’s wings wrapped around you and all to soon you drifted away, content in his arms. You had found your safekeeper, and your home was no longer a place, but rather a fae.
399 notes · View notes
acourtofthought · 2 months
Text
I received two more anons which I'm adding below the "read more" button just in case anyone wants to avoid HOFAS spoilers (or the spoiler theories going around based off the book).
Tumblr media
Seriously, how would that even work? Does he have to cut people in the chest to sever their bond? Ask them to try to find the thread that connects them (you know the one INSIDE of them) and play surgeon to snip, snip, snip? I said it in one of my last posts but the King of Hybern, who had access to the cauldron, was unable to break Feysands bond which Tamlin requested that he do. Which Feyre requested that he do (in order to save her family and friends). Amren confirms that "that sort of bond cannot be broken. The king is a fool, that sort of bond cannot be broken" and he couldn't as he he broke was the bargain. If the main big bad of the original trilogy was unable to harness the kind of power while using the actual Cauldron to mess with mating bonds, then how exactly could Truth Teller? Also, WHY would SJM create this super mysterious backstory for Truth Teller only to have it's super special power be that of breaking bonds? What would the fucking point be? Shall we just call Az the Anti Cupid? The Prythian Divorce Attorney because he's going to go around Prythian helping poor fae trapped in loveless bonds free themselves from it's shackles? This is what is said about TT with translation (not sure how it will read in English): "The Starsword is Made" "The knife can undo things." Done and undone. Matter and antimatter. With the right influx of power, a command from the one destined to wield them, they can be fused. And they can create a place where there is no life and no light. A place that is nothing. Nowhere." It's funny that the knife can "undo things" and they think that gives them carte blanche to have it undo everything, even that which was decided by a divine being. Bonds created by the mother herself? Truth Teller's got you covered! Humans turned Fae, Made by the Cauldron? Don't worry Elain, I'll unmake you in no time! Especially when the entire point of what was being said about the power of TT is that when fused with the sword, it can create "no life and life, a place that is nothing." Considering the conversation was talking about how the Starsword and TT were connected, wouldn't the more logical conclusion be that the as the sword is Made, the knife (it's opposite considering one is matter and the other antimatter) can "unmake" things, maybe objects? Like maybe the Trove which was made? Other weapons made by the Cauldron? Mating bonds are not made by the Cauldron but determined by fate / destiny. There's nothing to "unmake" as they weren't "made" in the first place. Bryce confirms that Az does not have the same shadows as Ruhn (Ruhn who has the same shadows as Rhys). Rhys confirms Az does not have the same shadows that he does. SJM CONFIRMS Az's shadows are not that of Rhysands. Rhys's shadows belong to him, they don't whisper to him or keep him company. The are an extension of him. Azriel tells us his shadows are his companions meaning they are not actually part of him. He says they keep him company, Rhys says Az learned their language. That all means that they are independent of him regardless of them being in sync at times or reacting to Az or whatever else they've done. As of the most recent book, his shadows do certain things with certain people / situations. They aren't very brave in the sunlight, all but one hiding while he steps into the sunshine. They reacted likes snakes ready to strike on two different occasions (one which had nothing to do with Elain). They are afraid of Koschei. They were curious about Gwyn and danced and sang in response to her her song / breath. I'm pretty sure they twirled around when he was interacting with Nesta too. Az confirms that they tend to vanish around Elain. Considering Az considers the shadows his companion, that they keep him company, don't you think he'd enjoy seeing them curious and playful and singing instead of vanishing or afraid of Elain's "light" that even E/riels admit to her having since they love the dark / light aesthetic?
Tumblr media
This is such a ridiculous argument they're spreading around. The Cauldron was "messed" with while the Daglan had it in their possession. They took what the mother once used to create all life and used it for evil. To create monsters, to create things that would serve them, to create evil weapons. But the second the Daglan no longer had possession of it, the Cauldron returned to it's normal state which is not good or bad. It just is and the only thing that determines what the Cauldron is is the person wielding it but no one can alter the Cauldrons essence for eternity. After the Daglan ruled, it was used to turn Myriam fae (used for good). Just like the King used to to bring down the wall (bad). Just like Feyre / Amren used it to unleash Amren (that turned out to be a good thing). Mating bonds are not determined by the Cauldron, as proven by Amren they can not be altered by the Cauldron, and if they were, then how did every single other SJM endgame couple with a mating bond end up with a fantastic one despite the Daglan "messing with it" yet ONLY Elucien's bond has fallen victim to the Daglans influence 15,000 years later?
68 notes · View notes
honeybeefae · 9 months
Note
oooo forbidden love with eris or azriel? maybe even a triangle 👀
Tumblr media
Out of the Woods (Eris Vanserra x Reader)
BINGO: FORBIDDEN LOVE
(I ended up going with Eris bc this idea literally is so much fun plus I’ve got so many Azriel requests! This request didn’t specify if it was NSFW or SFW so I just went for SFW! This literally came to life as I was writing it and I want to continue it SO bad so pls let me know if you guys would be interested lmao)
WARNINGS: Fighting, talks of death, a little gore in terms of blood
You had been coming to these woods ever since you had first seen him chasing after your assailants. What he was doing in the mortal realm you didn’t know nor care but you were grateful he was there that day. He had seen them drag you into the woods, ready to do unspeakable things, until each one of them suddenly burst into flames redder than you had ever seen.
One by one they dropped dead and you stood there, terrified, as the red hair fae emerged from the shadows. He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen and while you should have run or screamed or even fought, you just gazed at him.
He stopped a few feet away from you, his amber eyes focused on your breathing as you opened your mouth and whispered, “Thank you.”
It was the last thing he had expected you to say and it took him a minute to recover, a small smile turning his lips despite the image he was trying to portray. You drew in a sharp breath when he stepped into your personal space, bending down until he was at eye level.
“Run.”
The single word made your heart jump and instinct took over, breaking you from the spell as you turned on your heel and ran back to your village. You kept glancing over your shoulder, making sure he wasn’t following and didn’t stop until you were in your bedroom with the door closed. It felt like your heart was about to burst from your chest as you scurried under the covers like a child. 
As the adrenaline wore off and the night grew darker you started to drift off to sleep despite yourself, your eyes slowly closing until you dreamed about the man in the forest. You could’ve sworn you felt something touch your cheek that night, the smell of embers and pine wrapping around you like a blanket.
—--------------------
You didn’t go into the forest for several days, feigning sickness or pain whenever your father would ask you to go forage before the winter. The excuses worked for a while until he put his foot down, yelling at you that you needed to go out or risk starvation. 
This time you wore a cloak and had a dagger sheathed in your belt, the empty basket swaying from side to side as you went to the small berry patch close to the thickets and river. You felt tense the entire time, constantly looking over your shoulder, and just as you felt you could relax as you stood you felt eyes on you.
He was staring at you from the other side of the river, taking in your shocked expression before vanishing into thin air. You didn’t stick around to see where he went, turning to run back home only to smack into something solid.
Not something…someone.
“What are you doing in the forest again by yourself?” The man asked, his voice low as he captured your wrist in his hand when you tried to run. “I thought I told you to run.”
Your mouth was dry as you opened and closed it, your pulse fluttering under his fingertips as you struggled briefly to break away. His touch was warm, warmer than the average human, and it made your skin tingle in a weird way. 
“Answer me, human.” He sneered, lacking the patience that a man his age probably should have. You knew the fae were practically immortal and given how he looked a few years older than you, he had to have been around for a while.
“I-I had to come to get food for my family.” You stutter, clearing your throat from how hoarse it sounded. “Why are you here? What do you want?”
“I don’t think you’re in the position to be asking those questions.” He responded while glancing at your wrist in his hand. “This forest is too dangerous for someone like you to be in. There are wolves and foxes and evil men waiting to snatch you up.”
“Lucky you killed one of those three for me then, isn’t it?” You said boldly, your eyes widening when you realized you hadn’t filtered that thought from coming out of your mouth. Immediately your cheeks heated and you looked away, pulling once more.
He let you go, smirking when you stumbled back and fell on your ass. You scurried back a few paces when he crouched down to watch you more closely.
“Don’t come into these woods again, do you understand? It is not safe and I’m not going to go out of my way to save you.” He stated, offering his hand for you to take. You glanced at it and then his face, your eyes narrowing in suspicion before he grew tired of your antics and pulled you up himself.
He looked you over one more time, catching the dagger on your hips as it caught the afternoon sun. “And make sure you know how to use that or you might as well beat someone off with a stick.”
As he turned to go back from wherever he came from you found yourself calling for him, voice tight as you asked, “What is your name?”
The fae man stopped but didn’t turn around, debating on what he should say before he turned his head to the left slightly. You could make out his profile, the bridge of his nose, and his pointed ear as he said, “Eris.”
You watched as he disappeared once again, your heart thrumming as you stood there for a moment digesting what had just happened. Eris. His name was Eris. The name sounded weird in your head and yet it was all you could think about on your walk home, testing it on your tongue until you arrived at your doorstep.
Night quickly fell as you washed the fruit and finished your daily chores, bidding your family goodnight and making your way back to your bed. The smell from your dreams was still present, especially by your bed, and you fell asleep once more to the face of the fae, of Eris. 
Only this time you dreamt of him in a forest of red and yellow.
—--------------------------
The next time you went into the woods was when your village was under attack by the soldiers of Hybern. They were ransacking every home, every family, and taking whatever they wanted. You had heard the screams of women, men, and children as great fires suddenly lit up the sky.
Your family was trying to gather their most precious belongings but by the time they were ready to run it was too late. Three large men burst inside, their entire aura reeking of evil as they took in your small abode. Without warning you saw your father grab his sword off the wall and hurl it at the tallest soldier blocking the door, watching as it sank into his arm.
He let out a roar of rage and your father screamed at you all to run, his stance brave. You and your mother and brother took the opportunity and sprinted out into the street, feeling the other soldiers hot on your heels. You decided to turn the opposite way and head towards the forest, your head screaming at you as both men followed you. 
You were breathing hard as you tried your best to see in the dark, crying out as branches and thorns scraped across your skin. Blood was running down your arms by the time you got to the river and when you turned to look behind you, you realized they were no longer there.
Badum. Badum. Badum.
Seconds were passing by agonizingly slow as you waited with bated breath, sweat making your skin sticky as your head whipped around furiously for any sign of them. A twig snapped behind you and you didn’t have time to brace yourself as a heavy body slammed into you, knocking you onto the forest floor and stealing the very breath from your lungs.
“Stupid bitch thinks she can outrun us.” The soldier laughed, pinning your arms above your head as he glared at you with hatred. “Let’s see how far you can run when I’ve got my c-”
Before he can finish the sentence a ring of fire wraps around his throat and squeezes until his head is severed from his body. Warm blood covers your nightgown as you stare in terror, your vocal cords unable to move as the other Hybern soldier meets the same fate.
Soft footsteps head in your direction and you close your eyes tightly, not wanting to see whoever was going to kill you until you felt the familiar tingle of Eris’s hands wrapping around your body. He lifts you into his arms without a word and looks around, making sure no one is left before vanishing with you held tightly against him.
You felt like you were falling as he appeared in front of a cabin, a small candle lit in the window as he walked through the front door and shut it behind him. He wordlessly walked over to the bathroom and turned on the tap, setting you gingerly on the floor.
He tested the water with his rest and when satisfied, poured some soap into it until bubbles started to appear. You had your knees drawn up to your chest, watching him while he strode over to you and picked you up again. Eris made easy work of your nightgown, ripping it down the middle with just a few fingers and putting you into the water.
Both of your hands came up to cover your chest as he submerged you in warmth, looking at your nightgown with disgust before burning it in his grasp. You blinked rapidly, watching the ash fall to the floor, before turning your eyes to his.
“You came for me.” You whispered hoarsely. “You killed those men…for me.”
“I told you to stay out of the forest.” He snapped, a deep frown settled on his face. “I told you the dangers but you didn’t listen, you refused to listen. Do you know what could have happened to you if I wasn’t there?”
You did know. You wouldn’t be here with a strange fae man named Eris. You wouldn’t be in a warm bath in a grand cabin. You would probably be dead, along with the rest of your family and your village. 
The thought of your family had tears falling down your cheeks and into the bath, tiny ripples disturbing the water under the bubbles. You hoped they had escaped, found somewhere to hide, and your father…
A soft sob had your shoulders shaking as you turned your back to Eris, bringing your knees in once more and resting your face between them. Everything you knew, everyone you knew, it was all up in flames. Literally.
Minutes passed by without a word spoken and you had thought he had left you alone until you heard him shuffle behind you and sigh. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. It’s not what you need right now. I just didn’t want you to get hurt.”
“Why do you care so much?” You mumbled, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand. “You barely know me. You’re a fae, I’m a human. What game are you playing here?”
“I’m not playing a game.” Eris defended, watching as you angle your head to look at him. “I swear.”
“Then why save me? Why bring me here? I thought you hated our kind.” You were misdirecting your anger at the man who saved your life but you couldn’t help it, you wanted something to make sense in your life. “Am I a servant to you? Are you going to keep me trapped here for the rest of my life?”
“If I wanted a servant I could have easily found anyone so watch your tone.” Eris suddenly stood, his eyes hot with anger. “Is this how you are thanking me for saving your life? By questioning my decisions? Would you rather I take you back to those terrible men, to that terrible life?”
“I just want an answer!” You scream back, standing up and staring him down. You didn’t care that you were naked, you didn’t care that this man could kill you with a snap of his fingers. He owed you a damn explanation. “Just tell me why!”
Eris’s jaw twitched while his nostrils flared, his fists curling at his side briefly before relaxing. He took a deep breath and turned around and grabbed a towel, tossing it in your direction. 
“I don’t have to explain myself to a human.” He said, pausing in the doorframe. “Dry off, get dressed, and come out here when you’re done.”
He shut the door before you could respond but you still let out a scream of frustration, stomping your foot like a child as you gripped the towel firmly. You stared at where he had just been, willing him to come back, before letting your shoulders sag in defeat.
Whatever he was going to do, whatever compelled him to save you, you obviously weren’t going to find out tonight. This communication between the two of you shouldn’t have even started in the first place, it was forbidden and yet here you were. 
Stuck in a cabin with Eris…your new home for the time being. 
203 notes · View notes
Text
A Stupid Question (and Cassian losing his pants)
Just some fluffy inner circle banter (mostly picking on Cassian) and Feyre learning a bit more about magic! 
This is the first acotar fic I’ve ever posted, let me know what you guys think :) 
Word count: 907
Rhys snapped his fingers and all the dishes vanished from the table, off to… I didn’t know where they went. I’d been in the Night Court for several months now, and yet I’d never asked. 
Mor laughed across the table at something Cassian had said, who was now grinning proudly. 
I didn’t notice Rhys had leaned toward me until I felt his breath, warm on my ear, as he murmured, “Everything alright, Feyre darling?” 
I bit the inside of my cheek, my mate tracking the movement. “I have kind of a stupid question,” I whispered back after a moment. Although I knew I had only been in Prythian for a little more than a year, I still felt embarrassment heat my cheeks at my lack of understanding of basic magic concepts such as this. 
“Believe me, darling, you would not think that at all if you heard some of the questions that have come out of Cassian’s mouth,” Rhys said with a grin. 
Azriel snorted from his position on my mate’s other side. Cassian glanced over from his conversation with Mor, noting the glimmer in Rhys’s eyes. “What’s so funny?” 
“I was just telling Feyre that it’s nearly impossible to ask a more stupid question than, ‘Do females shit too, or is that only males?’” Rhys replied innocently. 
“I was drunk!” The Illyrian general protested. 
“Doesn’t change that you had to ask,” the Shadowsinger chuckled. Cassian glared at Azriel, who simply shrugged. Amren shook her head and sighed. 
“What’s your question, darling?” Rhys asked me again. I had to admit, his attempts to make me more comfortable made me fall even more in love with him. 
“Well, I’ve been wondering for a while now,” I started, cringing slightly at the stares from the five centuries-old fae, “How does the… vanishing work?” 
I was relieved when nobody immediately laughed. Rhys opened his mouth but Mor answered first. “It can go one of two ways. Either we send the items to the pocket realm,” she started, and I nodded along having heard about that from Rhys before, “Or we can send them to another place in the world.” 
“The risk with that,” Amren added, “Is that it may be difficult to know if there’s something else in the place you send the object to.” 
Rhys nodded. “For example, say I wanted to move this glass of wine to Cassian’s chair, but I was in another room and didn’t know he was sitting there. This would happen.” 
Rhys snapped his fingers. I could only watch as the wine glass appeared on top of Cassian’s head and started to tip forwards. Faster than I could blink, the Illyrian warrior snatched the glass out of the air before it could spill all over him. Glaring at the High Lord beside me, Cassian set Rhysand’s glass down in front of himself. “You are not getting this back.” 
My mate smirked as he snapped his fingers again and the wine glass appeared in his other hand. Cassian huffed and rolled his eyes. I tried and failed to hold back a wide grin. 
That explained how Rhys was able to pass back and forth the notes we’d written to each other in my earlier months with him in the Night Court. I mentally added vanishing to the list of skills I wanted to learn. 
“Does that answer your question?” Rhys asked, sipping from his wine glass. 
“Yes, but what’s to stop someone from vanishing another’s belongings? Such as an enemy’s weapon on a battlefield, or…” I couldn’t help but add, “An enemy’s pants during an important meeting?” I couldn’t help but imagine the look on Tamlin’s face if Rhysand had done that to him. 
Mor burst out laughing. “What, like this?” She snapped her fingers. I didn’t see anything happen–until Cassian suddenly looked down at his lap with wide eyes, wings flaring slightly behind him. 
“Mor, what the f–” 
The blonde-haired female snapped her fingers again. Cassian pushed out his chair, palms flat on the table, and growled at Mor. Fortunately, his pants had been returned. 
“That, Feyre darling, is why.” Rhys gestured towards the Illyrian who looked ready to start a brawl with the grinning female beside him. 
Azriel chuckled from the other side of the table. “It had quite a similar effect on Kier.” 
I stared at the High Lord beside me in disbelief. “You did that to Kier?” 
My mate laughed as he leaned back in his chair, the sound music to my ears. “A long time ago. I’ve since moved onto more sophisticated ways of irritating Mor’s father.” 
“Glad I wasn’t there for that,” Mor muttered. I couldn’t say I felt sorry for the truly awful steward of the Court of Nightmares. Only satisfaction at the thought of his mortification. 
“As for vanishing weapons in battle,” Rhys continued, “It’s simply a matter of practicality. It would take far too long to vanish enough individual weapons to make an impact in a battle. It would also be considered rather dishonorable.” 
I considered this. “Would you teach me how to do that? Vanish things, and use the pocket realms?” The possibilities with that kind of skill were endless. 
“Of course, darling,” Rhys said, mischief dancing in his star-flecked eyes. Perhaps we could start in the bedroom. I can think of a few things I’d love for you to vanish there, my mate purred down the bond. I kicked him under the table. 
21 notes · View notes
nanstgeorge · 2 years
Text
MAASVERSE: Seer Edition
Throne of Glass:
“She could still smell the fires that had raged throughout her eighth and ninth years—the smoke of burning books chock-full of ancient, irreplaceable knowledge, the screams of gifted seers and healers as they’d been consumed by the flames, the storefronts and sacred places shattered and desecrated and erased from history. Many of the magic-users who hadn’t been burned wound up prisoners in Endovier—and most didn’t survive long there.” (TOG, Chapter 5)
“What had it been like to grow up in the shadow of the king who had ordered so much destruction? To have lived here when royal families were slaughtered, when seers and magic-wielders were burned alive, and the world fell into darkness and sorrow?” (TOG, Chapter 27)
“She had to end this now, before the hallucinations started. She knew they’d be powerful: seers had once used bloodbane as a drug to view spirits from other worlds.” (TOG, Chapter 48)
“I’m afraid I can’t be of service,” Mort sniffed. “If you want an instant answer, you should find yourself a seer or an oracle.” Celaena slowed her pacing. “You think if I read this to someone with the gift of clairvoyance, they might be able to… see some different meaning that I’m missing?” “Perhaps. Though as far as I know, when magic vanished, those with the gift of Sight lost it, too.” (COM)
“Especially when magic had been gone these past ten years. But Manon had heard rumors of the rituals the Bluebloods did in their forests and caves, rituals in which pain was the gateway to magic, to opening their senses. Oracles, mystics, zealots.” (HOF, Chapter 12)
“Aedion opened his mouth, no doubt to ask what had snagged her interest, but Aelin frowned at Manon. “Can your kind see the future? See it as an oracle can?” “Some,” Manon admitted. “The Bluebloods claim to.” “Can other Clans?” “They say that for the Ancients, past and present and future bleed together.” (EOS, Chapter 48)
“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. Slipped from me as reality and dream slipped and entwined for Elain. Seer.” (ACOWAR, Chapter 33)
“They were a strange, unique group, the witches. Though they looked like humans, their considerable magic and long lives marked them as Vanir, their power mostly passed through the female line. All of them deemed civitas. The power was inherited, from some ancient source that the witches claimed was a three-faced goddess, but witches did pop up in non-magical families every now and then. Their gifts were varied, from seers to warriors to potion-makers, but healers were the most visible in Crescent City.” (HOEAB, Chapter 39)
“Yellowlegs was a fortune-teller—a powerful oracle. I bet she knew who the queen was the moment she saw her. And saw things she planned to sell to the highest bidder.” (EOS, Chapter 48)
“What about when magic disappeared for ten years?” “Our seers had a vision that it would vanish, and the flame would die. So we ignited several ordinary fires from that magic flame, and kept them burning. When magic disappeared, the flame indeed winked out. And when magic returned this spring, the flame again kindled, right in the hearth where we had last seen it.” (KOA, Chapter 15)
A Court of Thorns and Roses:
“We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.” (ACOWAR, Chapter 32)
“Elain, too, had revealed no indication of her seer’s abilities since then.” (ACOSF, Chapter 1)
Crescent City
“The Autumn King had insisted that the visit be discreet—not saying the obvious: until the Oracle whispers of your future. What had gone down had been an unmitigated disaster not only for Bryce, but for Ruhn as well.” (HOEAB, Chapter 14)
“All Fae, male and female, made a visit to the city’s Oracle at age thirteen as one of the two Great Rites to enter adulthood: first the Oracle, and then the Ordeal—a few years or decades later.” (HOEAB, Chapter 14)
“Sphinxes were rare—only a few dozen walked the earth, and all of them had been called to the service of the gods. No one knew how old they were, and this one before him … She was so beautiful he forgot what to do with his body. The golden lioness’s form moved with fluid grace, pacing the other side of the hole, weaving in and out of the mist. Golden wings lay folded against the slender body, shimmering as if they were crafted from molten metal. And above that winged lion’s body … the golden-haired woman’s face was as flawless as Shahar’s had been.”
“No one knew her name. She was simply her title: Oracle. He wondered if she was so old that she’d forgotten her true name.”
“No one ever does. No one ever looked—not really.” A bramble of words. Her voice strained to a whisper. “He did. He saw me. He will not now.” (ACOWAR, 24)
“The sphinx blinked large brown eyes at him, lashes brushing against her light brown cheeks. “Ask me your question, and I shall tell you what the smoke whispers to me.” The words rumbled over his bones, luring him in. Not in the way he sometimes let himself be lured in by beautiful females, but in the manner that a spider might lure a fly to its web.” (HOEAB, Chapter 33)
“It was a useless gift, she’d decided as a child. It couldn’t do much at all beyond blinding people, as she’d done to her father’s men when they came after her and her mother and Randall, as had happened to the Oracle when the seer peered into her future and beheld only her blazing light, as she’d done to those asp-hole smugglers.” (HOEAB, 87)
“What blinds an Oracle? Light. Light the way the Starborn had possessed it.” (HOEAB, 88)
“I can’t think of another alternative. The Oracle only sees the future, not present. I need to know what’s going on with Connor.” (HOSAB, 38)
56 notes · View notes
feyredarlinq · 2 years
Text
FANON VS CANON
Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. With that being said, there’s still a difference (imo) between having what could be called a “different” or “unpopular” opinion/interpretation of the text, than ... blatantly changing what’s canon and purposely twisting quotes/scenarios/dynamics etc. 
I made this post (pro Elriel: you’ve been warned) a while ago but decided not to post it because: the “ship war” is ridiculous and there’s absolutely no need to “prove” anything, it’s obvious that Elain’s book is next, Azriel will be her LI, there are already tons of theories/analysis etc. about it so there was no need to go over the same stuff over and over again. What made me change my mind now is that, sadly, I keep seeing almost everyday posts in the #elriel tag (clearly tagged not correctly) spreading misinformation and whatnot. That made me remember this post still sitting in my drafts (I’m sure there will be a lot of typos, sorry in advance!)  where, basically, all of those “facts” are debunked so, just for funsies, here it is: fanon vs canon, Elriel edition.
FANON: Azriel’s shadows don’t like Elain
CANON: 
“What now” Elain mused (...) That smile grew, bright enough that it light up even Azriel shadow’s across the room.
“Because of the shit with Elain?” Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?” Cassian waved a hand. “A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up,” (...) Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. “You all right?” His brother nodded. “Fine.” But shadows still swarmed him. Cassian knew it was a lie, but didn’t push it.
“Maybe you’ll become interesting at last, Elain.” Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.
Another thing is that his shadows “skitter” and they are also “prone to vanish” when she’s around, according to the text, that should be a good thing, I mean:
In the blind sun off the turquoise water, his shadows were gone, his face stark and clear. More ... human than I had ever seen him.
A cute af bonus: 
But tonight, here in the dark and quiet, with no one to see... He pulled the small velvet box from the shadows around him. Opened it for her.
Azriel let his shadows whisk away the box as she said softly, “Put it on me?”
P.S. skitter ≠ dislike, fear, recoil ;) P.P.S. Azriel’s shadows around Cassian:
“I said, are you two ready to head down to the river house?” “Two?” he blinked through the cloud of arousal. Azriel chuckled, shadows skittering. “Did you listen at all last night?”
P.P.P.S. It’s not related to Azriel’s shadows, but I’ve mentioned his pov and Cassian and I’ve just remembered this: these are literally the same scenes, but only one of these two people got the luxury of being diagnosed with several mentall illnesses and disorders by the very bright and educated doctors of the fandom. Spoiler: it’s Azriel!
Azriel: Azriel only said coldly, “If Lucien kills Graysen, then good riddance.” /  Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, “There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”
Cassian:  “Did someone hurt you,” he said, his voice so guttural she could barely understand it. The wrath, the utter stillness with which hestood—this was how he was when he was close to killing. Wanted to kill. His hand pressed into hers, calluses scraping
OR:
Cassian: Cassian’s face turned uncharacteristically solemn, and he remained quiet for a moment before he said, “I get jealous sometimes. I’d never begrudge you for your happiness, but what you two have, Rhys …” He dragged a hand through his hair, his crimson Siphon glinting in the light streaming through the window. “It’s the legends, the lies, they spin us when we’re children. About the glory and wonder of the mating bond. I thought it was all bullshit. Then you two came along.”
Azriel: Cassian and Nesta hadn't reappeared doownstairs, though that came as no surprise. He was elated for his brother, and yet. Azriel couldn't stop it. The envy in his chest. Of Cassian, and Rhys. 
FANON: Azriel only wants Elain because “she’s the third sister”
CANON: Feyre and Nesta, the other two sisters, are both officially together with Rhysand and Cassian towards the end of ACOSF. Azriel and Elain? They go way back: ACOWAR & ACOFAS, with some little hints in ACOMAF as well
A faint smile bloomed upon Azriel’s mouth as he noticed Elain’s fingers white-knuckled on that fork, but he kept silent. (ACOMAF)
Elain said, “It’s all very disorienting.” “I can imagine,” Azriel said. Cassian flashed him a glare. But Azriel’s attention was on my sister, a polite, bland smile on his face. Her shoulders loosened a bit. (ACOMAF)
•Rhys chuckled, Cassian’s wrath slipping enough that he grinned, and Elain, noticing Azriel’s ease as proof that things weren’t indeed about to go badly, offered one of her own as well. (ACOMAF)
And I think Elain—Elain would like it, too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet. I smiled at the thought—at how handsome they would be together. If the warrior ever stopped quietly loving Mor. (ACOMAF)
I won’t quote all of their moments in ACOWAR, ACOFAS and then ACOSF and the Bonus Chapter (here’s a “recap” I did a while ago) because that would make this post way too long, but you get my point.
FANON: Three brothers x three sister is too cliché
CANON:
3 tasks, 3 mountains, 3 sisters each having their own friend trios, 3 dead troves, 3 brothers, 3 "exiles", 3 solar courts, 3 brothers, 3 siblings (weaver, bone carver, koschei)
sjm being cheesy af: the answer to the riddle was love
CR: x
FANON: Azriel only feels lust for Elain
CANON: I’ve already talked about that here, here and here. And I’m also going to add this: before the bonus chapter, Elriel had: four books of build up in which there are scenes of Azriel laughing like he never did before for the first time because of Elain, he’s willing to die to save her, he gives to her and only her truth teller, he’s the only one that instantly understood that she was a seer; etc.etc.etc. again, I can’t quote what happened in four books (four!) but the point is still the same: yes, he’s attracted to her (a grown ass man being attracted to the woman he likes and fantasizing about her? yikes!) but there’s also four books (I just love saying that) showing how their relationship (friendship then more) developed.
P.S. When he thinks sexually about her he’s pleasuring her and not the other way around (since misogynistic people love to call elain his s3x toy and/or act like Azriel only wants to use her) but god forbid him not planning out their whole relationship in a random bonus chapter + in a book that’s not even theirs + when he knows that they absolutely cannot be together yet so what would be the point anyway.
P.P.S. Again, they’re the same scenes.
Azriel: Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He’d beg on his knees for a chance to taste it. But Azriel just strocked her neck again.
Cassian: Every instinct in his body came roaring to the surface, so violent he had to choke them with a brutal grip or else he’d find himself on his knees, begging for a touch, anything.
FANON: Elain is useless
CANON: 
She convinced Nesta to welcome the Illyrians and the Queens in their house and kept it a secret by sending the servants away
Warned Feyre that Tamlin was coming for her; because of that she could run back to where the IC was
Warned Nesta about the Twin Ravens
Warned the IC about Vassa and Koschei, and, because of her, they could find The Fire-Bird Queen, who helped in the war
Came to Graysen beggin him to keep the humans safe
If it wasn’t for her they wouldn’t have saved Briar
Kicked the the beasts face when it tried to rip Azriel’s wings, saving him and Briar
Helped Feyre with her Seer powers to find the Suriel
Stabbed the King of Hybern, saving Nesta and Cassian’s life, and pretty much everyone elses
CR: x
There are also a lot of things that connects her (and Azriel) to the plot of the next book, but I won’t go into that since this post focuses on what’s already canon.
FANON: Elain would be scared of Azriel and/or his past (scars etc)
CANON:
Azriel smiled faintly. “Would you like me to show you the garden?” She seemed so small before him (...) But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded—just once. Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.
Offer and permission
FANON: Elain would be scared of violence
CANON: 
(...) my sister sent a fierce kick into the beast’s face. Its eye. Another. It bellowed, and elain slammed her bare muddy foot into its face again. The blow struck home. 
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.”
FANON: Azriel’s secrets in ACOSF are about Mor (I know, I wish I was joking)
CANON: 
“Why don’t you sit?” She leaned against the doorway beside the shadowsinger. “My shadows don’t like the flames so much.” A pretty lie. She’d seen Azriel before the fire plenty. But she looked at who sat close to it and knew the answer. “Why did you come if it torments you so much?”
Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn’t stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much.
FANON: Azriel only saved Elain because he sees her as a “damsell in distress” / He likes the idea of that, that’s the only reason he “likes” her
CANON: *sigh* do we seriously need to discuss this? Please, I can’t. Those scenes in which Azriel is willing to risk his life for her/is very protective of her simply mirror the behavior that all the other males sjm has ever written have when their partner/love interest/mate is in danger; which also means that, when one of them doesn’t immediately worry, it simply means that they.don’t.care, so let’s just stop over analyzing it and stop bringing some girlboss fake woke feminism bs into this, “he knows she’s strong enough, that’s why he didn’t want to save her” no, he just doesn’t give a fuck, pardon he french. Someone you care about a lot is in danger? You freak the fuck out. You want to save them. You try to find some way to save them. Rowan, Lorcan, Rhys, Cassian: they’d do the same, they did the same. Even if you think that the person in danger is the strongest person ever (so you don’t “need to worry”) and nothing could ever harm them, the instinct is still there, you still worry. Pleas go out more and interact with real people if you think that not caring about a person being in danger is somewhat okay and there’s something romantic about it
P.S. Since I’m sure most y’all probably know what I’m specifically talking about: 
Cassian: Cassian couldn’t breathe. Hadn’t been able to breathe or speak for long minutes now. (...) “I’m going after them.” (...) “Fuck the laws.” Cassian’s stomach turned over. 
Azriel: Azriel said tightly “My spies got word that Eris has been captured by Briallyn (...) We have to get him out.” (vs: From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”)
Again and again and again, same scenes. Why did no one say that Cassian idealizes his relationship with Nesta? That he has some hero complex? That he likes the idea of redempion by rescuing her? Because they don’t need to pair him up with a random character he couldn’t care less about, which means they also don’t need to completely twist things in order for that “ship” (giggles) to make sense. 
Also, it’s literally in the text that Azriel knows that Elain is perfectly capable of handling dangerous situations, I mean he literally gave her his dagger:
“It has never failed me once,” the shadowsinger said (...) he gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It still serve you well.”
And he’s also protective of her! The two things can coexist. Sadly, the same can’t be said when it comes to other characters. 
P.P.S. Since we’re on the topic of parallels, another “fanon” thing is: Azriel feels unworthy of Elain (which, by the way, is not exactly true; Azriel feels unworthy period, not because of Elain) that’s unealthy, that’s why Elriel can’t happen. Rhys felt like that, Cassian as well, Nesta etc. etc. etc. You get my point. Let’s move on from this umpteenth case of “lets hypefixate on dynamics that already happened with other endgame couples but this time we’ll find something wrong with them to justify our obsession for a crackship that will never happen” 
FANON: Azriel has creepy/obsessive vibes and stalker-ish behavior 
CANON: 
“I don’t make a point of looking after his movements.” “Why?” Not a flicker of emotion. “He is Elain’s mate.” I waited. “It would be an invasion of her privacy to track him.” To know when and if Lucien sought her out. What they did together. 
“He’s here to spy on me?” Her words bounced off the red stone. Cassian said tightly, “He says he’d rather stay up here than at the river house.”
And the only time things got sexual, Elain initiated it and this is when Azriel really went for it:
“Yes,” Elain breathed, like she read the decision. (...) Azriel’s hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain’s mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut. Offer and permission. He nearly groaned with relief and need as he lowered his head toward hers.”
So creepy of him to make a move after he had her consent.
FANON: Azriel is a warriow/he likes to fight (*sigh* yes, I know, I know) Elain is a gardener, they’re incompatible, their book would have no plot
CANON:
First of all, Feyre likes to paint, Nesta likes to read; is Rhys a painter? No. Is Cassian a writer or a freaking librarian? No. 
With that being said, Azriel is a spymaster and Elain is a whole ass seer. She can also find the Throve. And:
“Elain said to Azriel, perhaps the only two civilized ones here, “Can you truly fly?”
“And I think Elain—Elain would like it, too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.”
“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.”
So incompatible.
And would you also look at that:
She nodded toward Azriel. “I think she’s got you beat for secret-keeping.”
Elain appeared from the dorway, having appeared so silently that they all twisted toward her
She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth from Azriel or the two-half wraith she called friends.
FANON: Elain doesn’t look good in black, that means she doesn’t belong to the NC (By the way, I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that that part of the fandom has been clinging for months to these nonsense “theories” that a few “big” accounts have been trying to brainwash them with)
CANON:
Elain doesn’t look good in one black dress. That specific dress was meant to distract Eris from her (in ACOWAR he literally asked about Elain because he heard about how beautiful she was) and to make him pay attention to Nesta instead.
Cassian made that comment about the dress. Elain said that she belongs to the night court, but by now we’re used to people ignoring what she wants.
FANON: They barely talk / know each other
CANON: 
As if then scenes pre ACOSF when Feyre sees that they’re alone in the garden or they’re talking at night are not enough, it is explicitly implied in Azriel’s pov that there are so many other moments between them that we don’t know about:
It had never gone this far. They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this.
And, also in the pov, we see that both of them can understand each other without even speaking:
Lie. Well, the second part was a lie. He didn't need his shadows to read her tone, the slight tightening of her face.
Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days.
“Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision.
That’s how well they know each other. Newsflash: that means they talked, a lot.
Finally, my favourite:
FANON: Azriel would never disobey Rhys
CANON:
"Chain me to a tree Rhys. Go ahead. I'll rip it out of the ground and fly with it on my damned back."
246 notes · View notes
arizona2004 · 3 years
Text
Who the Real Wolves Are.part 1
Azriel x reader
warnings: OC death(not too descriptive), eventual smut?
word count: 1777
There will be 2-4 parts total. Part 2 
It had just been an average day when I’d met Azriel. I was walking through the woods, taking the shortcut back to the small cottage I lived in with my grandmother. The first thing I noticed about him when we collided was how tall and built he was. It was frightening but also unbearably attractive. Then I noticed, looking up to his face, the beautiful color of his eyes- hazel. And they glowed golden in the sunlight. He’s beautiful, I thought. Behind him, I saw movement, and that’s when I noticed his wings.
They are magnificent, large, and as beautiful as his face. I take several paces back and continue admiring his wings. He’s fae, but that doesn’t frighten me as it should. I’m curious and step forward toward him. Now he’s the one to step back, and he cocks his head slightly as though confused or thoughtful.
I try again to take a step forward. He doesn’t move. I step again, and this time, looking up into his eyes, I reach out a hand to his wings. Quick as a fly, he grips my wrist and growls. That has me tensing, oops, I think. But when I look back into his eyes, they don’t look as angry as I feared. I relax slightly and try to pull my wrist back. 
He lets go and asks, “What are you doing in the woods?” Now he does sound angry.
What gives him the right to be angry at me, I think, and say, “walking.”
“It’s not safe out here,” he says, “you shouldn’t be walking by yourself” 
“Oh, really? I walk this path every day. I’ve never encountered anything dangerous.”
“Before today,” he responds, indicating himself.
“Are you threatening to harm me if I walk this path again?”
“No. There are dangerous things other than just me out here.”
“Well I don’t think you’re very dangerous at all,” I say, sticking out my chin.
“I’m very dangerous,” he sounds defensive now. It makes me laugh, and he furrows his brow at that, “what?” he asks. It makes me laugh harder, and I push forward, walking past him. “Don’t just walk away from me,” he grumbles behind me, “I’m very dangerous.”
He followed me home that day, but I didn’t mind. When I stood feet from the door to my house, I felt his presence fading and turned around. He wasn’t there. He was shooting into the air, and I assumed I’d never see him again, but that didn’t stop me from hoping. 
Every day for the next two weeks, I searched for him on my way home, but he was never there. Then, one evening, I felt someone watching me. I was in nearly the same spot I had been when we collided weeks ago. I stopped and spun around looking, but I didn’t see him. Then, far in the distance to my left, I spotted him. Or just his hazel eyes. He was covered in shadows; it looked as though a tree was swallowing him. 
As soon as our eyes connected, though, he vanished, and I was alone again. I walked the rest of the way home in confusion and slept fretfully that night. My thoughts were filled with questions and feelings I didn’t understand. I wonder about his name. I want to see him again. I want to touch him too. I want to know why he disappeared and what he was doing on that trail. Mostly, I want to know what his lips taste like.
I’ve been kissed many times before. Some were sloppy. Others fine. And a few were even good. I’d never done anything more intimate than kissing, but this male made me question what exactly I’d let him do to me if he tried.
Several more days pass before I sense him watching me again. This time I don’t look for him -afraid I’ll scare him away. I just stop in my tracks and speak to the space in front of me, “you never told me your name.” Seconds pass, and there’s no response. 
I’m about to walk away when I hear from behind me, “Azriel.”
I turn to find him standing feet away from me on the path, “Azriel,” I repeat.
“Yes?”
Why are you watching me?” I take a step toward him.
“What’s in the basket?” he asks, avoiding the question and my eyes.
“Cookies for my grandmother. They're her favorite. Chocolate chip. Do you want one?” I ask the last bit, sticking my hand into the basket and pulling out a cookie, walking closer to him. I lift the cookie to his lips and watch as he takes a bite. His lips graze my fingers as he bites into the cookie. 
“Delicious,” he says, grabbing my wrist, pulling it toward my lips. He stares into my eyes as he takes another bite. I swallow and try to calm myself down. When he finishes the cookie, I pull my gaze away from his face. I try, at least, but there's chocolate on his lip. Instinctively, I brush my thumb over his lip and pick up the chocolate. He sucks my thumb into his mouth, licking up all the chocolate, then releases it with a pop. 
I’m faintly aware of the squeaky noise I make at his actions and the wobbling of my legs, but I just continue looking into his eyes.
“The sun’s about to set,” he says, “You probably should get home.”
And so I start walking home, and he walks by my side. When we’re mere feet from the house, again, he disappears into the sky.
This continues for many more weeks. Moments after I enter the forest, Azriel is standing next to me. Occasionally we talk, but most days, we walk in silence. And after dreaming of it plenty, and probably not thinking it through enough. I lean over and kiss him before he flys away. I had only intended to kiss his cheek, but he had been turning toward me, so the kiss had been placed on the corner of his mouth. When I skipped the few more feet to the house, I felt his eyes on my back, and a grin plastered my face. 
The day following, Azriel, it seemed, decided to follow my lead. When he met me in the woods and walked me home, he stopped further from the house, this time. I turned to him, and he leaned down, placing his lips to mine. They were soft and warm. I leaned into the kiss, and when I did, his tongue darted out to lick the seam of my lips. I moan, opening my mouth for him. 
His tongue swept into my mouth and gently caressed my own. The kiss was slow and gentle except where Az’s teeth nipped at my lips. My hands held onto him tightly at his shoulders while he gripped my thighs, pulling me up to him. I had never been kissed quite like this before. It was soft and hard at the same time. I felt encased in the kiss. I never wanted my lips to part from his. The way his lips, tongue, and teeth moved with mine had me moaning and wanting more.
After some time, however, Azriel pulls back. We’re both gasping for breath, foreheads pressed together, and Azriel sets me on my feet. He takes a step back, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, without looking directly at me, lips pulling up at the corners.
“I-” I try to respond, but he’s already pushed into the air. I walk the rest of the way home, grinning wildly, and collapse into bed that night thinking of our kiss.
The weeks that follow are similar. Some days we walk. Some we talk. And other days, we find ourselves rolling through the brush tangled in each other’s arms.
One evening Azriel does not show himself, which isn’t unusual. What is strange, however, is arriving home to find men in my house. They’re speaking to my gran and when I arrive point their questions at me. 
Have you seen a fae male? Spoken to him? Fraternized with him?
“You know our laws about the fae, don’t you deary?” The man in charge asked when I’d denied all his accusatory questions.
I did, of course. My village didn’t allow any relations with the fae. And the law wasn’t just against the fae, but the people too. Since the wall fell, the village leaders made rules about interacting with fae. Anyone thought to be aiding or supporting a faerie was considered a fae fraternizer and sentenced to death. The children of the blessed didn’t dare come near our village, they’d be killed on sight.
“Yes. I’m aware. I haven’t had any relations with any fae. I’ve never even seen one.” I say as steadily as I can manage. I glance at my gran and fear I: revealed everything with the look in my eyes.
“Are you sure? There have been reports of a winged man in the area. People say they’ve seen him near this cottage. With a woman. Though no one is sure if the woman is human or not, I think she is.” He looks at me pointedly, and I want to correct his misuse of pronouns. Azriel is no mere ‘man’. I hold my tongue, though.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The man’s face lights up, and he pulls a dagger from his belt. Then a quiet voice says next to me, “it was me,” my face falls, and I look to my gran in horror. The man turns the dagger toward gran, “I met the male in the woods while picking berries. He didn’t seem to care about my wrinkled age; he’s quite old himself. I’ve-” She didn’t get to finish the sentence, though, as he struck her.
I immediately was pulled from my shock and shouted as I lunged at the man. The other men simply pulled me away. I fought at every turn, and they beat me relentlessly. They only stopped when I was bloody on the ground. Unable to move. The leader of the group knelt where my grandmother sat, crouched on the floor, weeping for me, and plunged the knife into her chest. A choked cry left my throat. The men left us lying on the floor after swearing threats. I didn’t hear any of it, though. My attention was focused on the lifeless body of my gran, inches from me. I struggled to breathe and reached out my hand for hers. She was cold, and I realized it was hours later. Then darkness came and swept me away.
168 notes · View notes
Text
Love is in the Lines
Nesta Archeron x Cassian - Tattoo Convention Oneshot
Nesta loses Cassian at a tattoo convention.
Tumblr media
Written for Nessian month. @illyrianet
Prompt 1: Tattoo Artist
Prompt 2: We came to the…together, and now you’re lost.
Masterlist | Read on Ao3
Warnings: Language
2319 words
*******
“Cassian, I swear to the mother, when I find you…” Nesta grumbled to herself for the fourth, no it was the fifth, time in the last twenty minutes.
She pushed through the herds of people crowding the aisle, trying her best to scour every booth for her missing boyfriend.
One moment, he had been standing behind her waiting as she scrutinized a certain design, the next, she turned back around, and he had disappeared.
Deciding she wasn’t going to find him in this row, she turned the corner and began walking down the next aisle starting her search over again.
If she was lucky, she would spot his massive frame sticking out above the clusters of people, but so far luck wasn’t on her side because she’d been walking around the convention hall for almost half an hour now searching for him. Nesta passed each booth looking at the artists and the customers, but they were all strangers.
Getting to the end, she took one last scan over the heavily tattooed convention-goers—most having several visible piercings in their ears, noses, and sporadic other places on the face that she thought would be excruciating to pierce—and wondered what the hell she was doing.
Sighing heavily, Nesta turned and started walking down the next aisle.
Two years ago, if someone had told Nesta she would be wandering around a tattoo convention, she would’ve laughed in their face at the absurdity of it.
A year ago, she’d have rolled her eyes and said that even her ink-covered boyfriend who made her realized she didn’t hate all tattoos, wouldn’t have been able to convince her to spend a day surrounded by the buzzing machines and colorfully covered patrons.
Last week, she considered it.
Being with Cassian had made her learn a lot about herself; one of those things being the fact that she found all of his ink incredibly attractive.
There was something about the way the ink stood out on his tanned skin that made it look like it was supposed to be there. She couldn’t even imagine her boyfriend without his tattoos. The one time she tried, she made a mental image of his arms without the swirling geometric designs and his back without the large bat-like wings, not to mention all the other little designs he had strewn across his body suddenly gone—and she was surprised to find herself dismayed at the lack on ink.
One night, when Nesta was idly tracing some of the lines across his chest, she confessed to Cassian that she wanted to get a small tattoo of her own.
At first, he had been shocked. As much as she loved his designs, he knew she still looked at most people’s tattoos with distaste. In her words, “most of the tattoos I see look like someone stumbled into a shop at four in the morning, drunk out of their mind, and picked out the first thing they saw. And the artist just went with it.”
But Nesta listened whenever he talked about his own designs; about how they all meant something to him. How every design held a memory. Every time he looked at them—whether he was intentionally studying them or when he caught a glimpse of one out of the corner of his eye—he would think about why he got it. Each tattoo made him remember a story, or a person, or some sort of inspiration.
They were reminders, self-expressions, and memories.
Even the one he got when he and his brothers were wasted and thought getting matching tattoos—done by each other, of course—was an amazing idea. He always pointed out that particular tattoo whenever Nesta explained her disdain for the “impulsive permanent decisions” saying that even though the design isn’t great, every time he looks at it he laughs and thinks of the great time he has when he’s with his brothers.
So when Nesta told him she wanted to get a tattoo, Cassian was more than surprised. But as soon as his shock wore off, he got the broadest smile on his face and immediately started asking her questions. What did she want? How long had she wanted one? Color or Black and White? Where on her body? Question after question, and Nesta was glad that Cassian had been thrilled.
Smirking, she remembered what he had told her when she asked him if he thought she would look good with a tattoo.
“Good?” She’d never seen him look more ravenous, already picturing what she would look like with ink covering her body. He cupped her face and looked into her eyes. “Nes, sweetheart, you are already so gorgeous, but, fuck,” he groaned, “you would look so fucking stunning that I don’t know how I’d ever be able to keep my hands off you.”
Then he made sure to show her just how much he liked the idea of tattoos covering her body, using his tongue to trace potential designs across every inch of her skin.
The next day, Cassian showed Nesta the poster for the tattoo convention happening soon which brought dozens of artists together to showcase their work and allow for people to get tattoos done, and admire the different aesthetics and designs.
When Nesta agreed to go with him, she made it very clear she was just looking for inspiration. It was practical, she reasoned, to go to see all kinds of designs in one place so she could get a sense of what exactly she wanted.
She figured he would be attached to her side, wanting to show her everything and point out his favorites.
The last thing she expected was to lose Cassian in the crowd.
Nesta finished eyeing another row of booths, still no sign of her missing, infuriating, boyfriend.
“C’mon Nesta, he said” she muttered as she walked. “It’ll be fun, he said. You’ll get inspired and I’ll be right there with you, he said.”
Nesta just about turned the corner when a booming laugh caught her attention. Zeroing in on the sound she caught sight of Cassian—well, his hair really. The long, dark, wavy strands were pulled up into a bun on top of his head, making his strong jawline covered in artfully groomed stubble stand out.
Nesta sometimes found it hard to stay mad at Cassian because no matter what she was upset about, he always found a way to make her smile. Even unintentionally. Like right now, part of her wanted to strangle him for vanishing on her and making her scour the convention hall for him, but hearing the sound of his laugh softened her and she allowed herself to smile at him before quickly schooling her features and making her way over to where he was sitting.
Sitting.
He was sitting in a reclining chair while the booth’s tattoo artist leaned over him to draw a new piece of artwork on his skin.
Nesta was going to kill him. Seething, she marched towards him.
He brought her here, he disappeared, and then he went off to get a new tattoo—without her.
Cassian’s eyes lit up as he spotted her. “Nes! Check it out, look who’s here.”
For the first time, Nesta looked at who exactly was inking her boyfriend.
“Az?” She blinked, momentarily losing her frustration. “I didn’t know you would be here.”
Azriel dipped his needle into the ink again and let out a low chuckle. Once he deemed enough ink was added, he gave Nesta a rueful smile. “I assumed this one,” he nodded at Cass who was still grinning at her “would show up today, but I thought I could get a couple of hours of actual clients before he took over my booth. I didn’t expect to see you here, though” Azriel concentrated on tracing another line but raised an eyebrow in her general direction.
“Yeah, well, this one,” she imitated Azriel’s tone and nodded at Cassian, “wanted to show me what one of these conventions was like, but apparently he decided it was better to run off and get another tattoo.”
Setting her bag down, Nesta sunk into the chair beside Cassian and crossed her arms.
“I’ve been wandering around for more than thirty minutes looking for you, asshole”
Az snorted, but didn’t comment, just kept drawing something that Nesta couldn’t quite see.
“Aw babe, don’t be mad,” Cassian leaned over as best he could and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before she could turn away. Not that she didn’t want a kiss from him, but she was still upset at his antics. “You were so absorbed looking at that lady’s designs I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
Nesta’s anger melted a little at that. They had been walking around for a while when Nesta spotted a particular design she liked. She dragged Cassian over to a booth hosted by a woman whose arms were covered in colorful images and had her hair pulled back in a bright bandanna. She had a handful of binders on the table filled with designs and photos of healed artwork.
It was the minimalistic stack of books that had caught Nesta’s eye from across the aisle. She followed the single line as it swirled around creating the image. She must have been more lost in thought than she realized if Cassian deemed it best not to interrupt her.
“And,” He gave her a wide grin, “I hoped I could find Az and convince him to tattoo me for free.”
Rolling her eyes at Cass’ satisfied look and Az’s long-suffering one, she watched as people passed by the booth. Some looked through the design books, others paused to watch for a moment as Az worked. Turning back to face Cassian, she saw he was already looking at her.
“Fine. I’m still annoyed, though.” She leaned in closer, “What are you getting?”
Now Cassian’s face turned a little nervous. He still looked excited and happy and keen in the way he always looked when he watched her, but now he started to look a little worried, too.
“Before you freak out or get angry, let me explain.”
Nesta’s mind immediately went to worst-case scenarios. What could he be getting that he thought she would be angry? What would Azriel agree to ink that she should be upset about? Was it—
“Great way to start.” Azriel muttered from Cassian’s other side.
“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes and turned back to Nesta just as she stood up and walked around to peer over Azriel’s shoulder.
Az was putting the finishing touches on but she could see exactly what the image was.
It was delicate ‘N’ on the inner edge of his wrist.
Nesta didn’t say anything—couldn’t say anything—she just stared at the design now permanently etched into her boyfriend’s skin.
Cassian cleared his throat and Azriel backed away to put his needles down and give them a moment of privacy. As much privacy as they could have in the small booth.
“It’s an N,” Obviously. “For you.” Obviously.
Nesta couldn’t drag her gaze away from the letter. All her anger and frustration faded away. She forgot how irritated she was with him, how upset she had been when she turned around and he was gone. She forgot the instant jolt of panic she felt when she thought she had lost him.
Nesta took in each line and curve of the tattoo and felt such an overwhelming feeling of love for this crazy, impulsive, wonderful man.
“You…” She finally looked up to see him watching her face carefully.
“What do you think?” He waited for her to say something, but after a moment of silence, he started rambling. “Is it too much? Do you like it? You don’t like it. It’s too much. If you don’t like it I can change it. I mean, I can see if Az can change it. I could get it covered up—”
“No!”
Nesta grabbed his worried face in her hands and kissed him fiercely. She tried to pour everything she was feeling into that kiss, and make him know that she did like it, she loved it. She loved him.
“No, don’t cover it up.” She pressed her forehead to his before pulling back and intertwining their fingers, using her grip to lift his arm to get a better view.
“So, you do like it?” A slow smile appeared on his face.
Nodding softly, she told him, “I do.” Nesta swallowed, another rush of emotion hitting her. “You really wanted to get something for me inked onto you? These things last forever you know.” She tried to make a joke, but she was still feeling overwhelmed.
She almost couldn’t believe that he wanted a piece of her, something to remind him of her constantly and forever. It was insane; totally impulsive and unbelievable, but the sweetest most loving gesture anyone had ever done for her.
Cassian used his fingers to tilt her chin up so he could look her in the eye. “Of course I wanted to. Every time I’ll see it, I’ll think of you.”
She kissed him again.
Breaking apart, Nesta slowly moved her finger around the letter, careful not to brush it and hurt him.
“Why here?”
He forced her to meet his stare as he said, “I wanted it over my pulse point because my heart beats for you.”
He kissed her this time and put everything he had into it. She brought one hand around behind his head, the other rested on his chest, and kissed him back with just as much passion.
“That’s so corny” she murmured against his lips
They broke apart, each breathing a bit heavily.
Cassian gave her a cheeky grin and winked.
“You love it. And didn’t you know, sweetheart,” he gave her one more peck on the lips, “we’re gonna last forever, too.”
*****
I know I’ve posted a lot of oneshots recently, but don’t worry, I’m absolutely still working on my longer fics. I’m just taking advantage of the inspiration as it hits me
Taglist:
@acourtofsnakes @allthebooksunderthemoon @astra-ad-mare @becarefuloflove @bisexual-genderfluid-loki @booklover41802 @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @danibutterr @doubt-less @emily-gsh @enormousbooklover @foughtconquered @fromthelibraryofemilyj @hakunamatatazz @i-have-but-one-brain-cell @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jorjy-jo @lemonade-coolattas @mariamuses @mayhemories @midsizewitch @miserablesmusings @morganofthewildfire @nehemikkele @rowaelinismyotp @rowansfirebringer @sayosdreams @sheharahu @sleeping-and-books @stardelia @story-scribbler @superspiritfestival @surielandiareendgame @swankii-art-teacher @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading
193 notes · View notes
spvcejams · 3 years
Text
Azriel + his Shadows
There seems to be a big debate within this fandom when it comes to Azriel and his shadows. Why this is even a debate is beyond me but I digress. In this meta, I am going to pinpoint all of Azriel and his shadows' interactions. It is very important to note that Azriel's shadows are a separate entity. They are not him. Moving on.
Quick little disclaimers:
1. This is going to be a long post.
2. You will notice that certain characters do, in fact, have a bigger emphasis on Azriel and his shadows vanishing (which is not a bad thing).
3. This is my interpretation of the shadows based on the context of the text. I also included the chapters if you so choose to read the quotes in context as well.
Some key terminology that, unfortunately, needs to be defined:
Cleared: rid of objects or obstructions
Stark: severe or bare in appearance or outline
Disappear: cease to be visible
Eddied: move in a circular way
Recoil: suddenly spring or flinch back in fear, horror, and disgust.
Skitter: to move lightly and quickly or hurriedly
These definitions will also be present among the text once it is noted.
BACKGROUND ON AZRIEL
"Shadowsinger. Yes- the title, whatever it meant, seemed to fit.
"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."
Perhaps those shadows were indeed whispering to him, then. Azriel's cold face yielded nothing. (ACOMAF, Chapter 16)
"A new bastard in the camp- and an untrained shadowsinger to boot. Not to mention he couldn't even fly thanks to-" (ACOMAF, Chapter 16)
"I don't really know where I fit in anymore," I admitted [...]
"I've been alive almost five and a half centuries, and I'm not sure of that, either,' Azriel said." (ACOMAF, Chapter 22)
But Azriel, locked in his father's dungeons like some criminal until he was eleven, denied the ability to fly, to fight, to do anything his Illyrian instincts screamed at him to do... (ACOWAR, Chapter 18)
A corner of Azriel's mouth curled up, the shadows about him sliding over his neck like living tattoos, twins to the Illyrian ones marked beneath his leathers.
Shadows different from anything my powers summoned, spoke to. Born in a lightless, airless prison meant to break him.
Instead, he had learned its language. (ACOFAS, Chapter 7)
I held his gaze, though. Held that ice-cold stare that still sometimes scared the shit out of me. I'd seen what he'd done to his half bothers centuries ago. Still dreamed of it. The act itself wasn't what lingered. Every bit of it had been deserved. Every damn bit. (ACOFAS, Chapter 7)
Based on these excerpts from the books, we know that Azriel was not born with his shadows and his shadowsinging abilities. He acquired them when he was living in darkness and fear. They provided him company during his time of loneliness. He learned their language. They became his friends. They brought him comfort and provided him a defense mechanism when needed. They are not him.
It is important to realize that while Azriel's shadows are not him, they sense his emotions. While Azriel learned the language of wind and stone, the shadows, in turn, learned how to read Azriel's language and emotions and act upon them.
Side note: I'm going to go ahead and add this little jewel as well, just for fun:
Rhys said to Azriel, "If I had not met a shadowsinger, I would not have known that it is the family you make, not the one you are born into, that matters. I would not have known what it is to truly hope, even when the world tells you to despair." Azriel bowed his head in thanks. (ACOWAR, Chapter 69)
INNER CIRCLE
Let's start with conversations amongst the Inner Circle. We know that the IC is Azriel's family (see quote above) and he trusts them. We see throughout the books that not only are there calm conversations but there are also tense ones as well.
The gift of a violent, warmongering people," Amren added. Azriel nodded, shadows wreathing his neck, his wrists. Cassian gave him a sharp look, face tightening, but Azriel ignored him.(ACOMAF, Chapter 16)
This is Feyre's first time meeting the Inner Circle at the House of Wind. Feyre is getting the basic background of all of the members and we see from the quote above, Feyre is getting the background of Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys's heritage. This is where we first get a hint about Azriel's hatred for his own people. The way his shadows start to swarm him. They sense his hatred and disdain for Illyrians and they swarm to protect.
... I scrambled for something to ask and said to Azriel, those shadows gone again, "How did you- I mean, how do you and Lord Cassian-" (ACOMAF, Chapter 16)
We then see his shadows disappear. In context of this quote, Cassian makes a light-hearted joke when it comes to looking good while wearing the Siphons. Cassian's sense of humor helps ease Azriel and his disdain for Illyrians that was reemerging at the time.
(1) Azriel lingered by the window, comfortably ensconced in shadow, a light flurry of snow dusting the lawn and street behind him. And Amren... (ACOMAF, Chapter 19)
(2)... Azriel emerged from his wreathing shadows to ask the most questions; his face and voice remained unreadable. (ACOMAF, Chapter 19)
This quote (1), in context, presents the fact that both Azriel and Cassian were waiting for Rhys and Feyre to return from the prison. Not only is Azriel surrounded by his shadows, but Cassian also expresses "a coiled-up energy" while waiting. Both Azriel and Cassian present the same emotions when it comes to Rhys/Feyre and the prison. While Azriel's facial expressions remain unreadable, his shadows make it known what he's feeling (2).
I assumed Azriel was nearby, seeking sanctuary in the shadows. Hopefully, he'd gotten some rest after dealing with the Attor- and would rest a bit more before heading into the mortal realm to spy on those queens. (ACOMAF, Chapter 28)
Here we now have Feyre associating Azriel with his shadows. She has, for most of the time, seen them surrounding him. "Seeking sanctuary" is an interesting word choice because it shows that she also sees that Azriel uses his shadows for sanctuary.
We searched, but the missed arrows had been snatched up by our attackers- and even the shadows and wind told Azriel nothing, as if our enemy had been hidden from them as well. (ACOMAF, Chapter 42)
This is one of our first indications that Azriel's shadows essentially work for him. They spy for him, they hunt for him. They work for him. So, not only do his shadows read his emotions, they're essentially his employees.
Azriel, his face a mask of beautiful death, silently promised them all endless, unyielding torment, even the shadows shuddering in his wake. I knew why; knew for whom he'd gladly do it. (ACOMAF, Chapter 42)
The Hewn City. A disturbing and evil place that Azriel (along with the Inner Circle) clearly hates. In this quote, it's very clear Azriel is pissed- mainly for the fact that Keir, Mor's father, is the Steward for the Hewn City. His shadows are, again, reacting to his rage that he has for Keir and the Hewn City in general.
Within a heartbeat, Azriel had vanished into shadows and was gone. Keir didn't even turn. (ACOMAF, Chapter 42)
Our indication that not only do the shadows read his emotions, protect him, and work for him, they're also a means of quick transportation.
"He remains alive," Azriel answered, shadows curling around the clawed tips of his wings, so stark against the snow beneath our boots. "So do the others." (ACOWAR, Chapter 13)
This scene takes place right after Azriel and Cassian rescue Feyre and Lucien from Eris and his brothers. The shadows surround Azriel while speaking about Eris, whom we all know he does not like.
Cassian took up a place against the banister, crossing his arms with an arrogance I knew meant trouble. Azriel remained beside me, shadows wreathing his knuckles. As if battling High Lords' sons was how they usually spent their days. (ACOWAR, Chapter 14)
Back in Velaris after rescuing Feyre and Lucien from Eris and Co. Yet again, still pissed.
Cassian gave her a vulgar gesture that made Lucien choke on his green beans. "I was a young Illyrian and didn't know better," he said, then pointed his fork at Azriel. "Don't try to blend into the shadows. You said the same thing."
"He did not," Mor said, and the shadows that Azriel had indeed been subtly weaving around himself vanished. [...] (ACOWAR, Chapter 17)
This scene is a good way to show that the Inner Circle knows and is aware that Azriel does, in fact, use his shadows to hide. In this scene, Cassian acknowledges that Azriel begins to hide when talking about a joke amongst the boys referring to wanting more women within the group to "look at all day". Then we have Mor, who speaks up to defend Azriel and his shadows vanish. Mor makes him comfortable in an uncomfortable moment.
Azriel shook his head, shadows twining around his wrists. "It's not the same. When you're older, the fears, the mental blocks... it's different."
None of them, not even Amren, said anything. (ACOWAR, Chapter 18)
Azriel offers to help Feyre with flying. Whenever talking about his childhood and/or Illyrians, the shadows make an appearance. A source of comfort for him when talking about something he despises. The entire IC is aware of his past and feelings towards it; so much so that it's emphasized that Amren doesn't even say anything.
As the shadows wreathing him cleared, Azriel sized up Nesta and Cassian, then threw a vaguely sympathetic look in my direction. "I need to start our lesson early." (ACOWAR, Chapter 19)
Azriel appears at the HoW to pick up Feyre for their first flying lesson. With his amusement of the banter between Nesta and Cassian, along with the fact that Rhys sent Azriel to "rescue" Feyre from it, we see the shadow around him disappear.
Cleared: rid of objects or obstructions
Disappear: cease to be visible
Too far- this was pushing them both too far. I tried to catch Cassian's gaze but he was monitoring them closely, his golden-brown skin unnaturally pale. Azriel's shadows gathered close, half veiling him from view. (ACOWAR, Chapter 27)
After the Hewn City, Mor finds out that Azriel knew about Rhys working with Eris. Mor feeling betrayed by both Azriel and Rhys makes Azriel angry and uncomfortable. He wants to hide from it all.
"Call off your dog," Amren said with the lethal tone.
Because the shadow in the corner behind Amren... that was Azriel. The obsidian hilt of Truth-Teller in his scarred hand. He'd moved without my realizing it- though I had no doubt the others had likely been aware. (ACOWAR, Chapter 27)
Duty calls, even when it's against someone like Amren. A heated discussion when Amren found out the Feyre went to the Bone Carver to ask about the Ouroboros mirror. Amren is clearly pissed about it and, to protect his High Lord and Lady, Azriel moved behind Amren via his shadows.
And as if he'd summoned him, Azriel stepped out of a pocket of shadow by the stairs and scanned us from head to toe. His eyes lingered on the blood crusting Rhys's hands. (ACOWAR, Chapter 32)
Another example of how Azriel uses his shadows as means of transportation. He was guarding the townhouse with Elain inside after Feyre and Nesta were attacked in the library.
Azriel, wreathed in shadows by the front door, chuckled quietly. Cassian shot him a glare. "I don't see you spouting poetry, brother."
Azriel crossed his arms, still smiling faintly. "I don't need to resort to it." (ACOWAR, Chapter 41)
Before the High Lords meeting in Dawn. Tensions with the upcoming meeting and war are high but that still doesn't stop friendly banter between the IC.
Azriel instantly vanished. First to arrive- first to see if any trap awaited. (ACOWAR, Chapter 41)
Spymaster duty calls. More means of transportation.
Azriel squeezed, Eris thrashing beneath him. No physical brawling- there had been a rule against that, but Azriel, with whatever power those shadows gave him...
"Enough, Azriel," Rhys ordered. Perhaps those shadows that now slid and eddied around the shadowsinger hid him from the wrath of the binding magic. The others made no move to interfere, as if wondering the same.
Azriel dug his knee- and all his weight- into Eris's gut. He was silent, utterly silent as he ripped the air from Eris's body. Beron's flames struck the blue shield, over and over, but the fire skittered off and fizzled out on the water. Any that escaped were torn to shred by shadows. (ACOWAR, Chapter 45)
Not only does it seem as if Azriel’s shadows have more power than just hiding/comfort/spying, but they seem to be giving into Azriel’s wrath towards Eris while, all at the same time, hiding him and destroying the flames that managed to escape the shield from his Siphons.
Eddied: move in a circular way
Azriel's eyes slid to Eris, the High Lord's son panting beneath him. And the shadowsinger leaned down to whisper something in his ear that made Eris blanch further.
But the shield dropped. The shadows lightened into sunshine. (ACOWAR, Chapter 45)
Azriel is done attacking. He drops his shields. His shadows lighten but don’t disappear. What a guy.
(1) But I looked to Azriel, currently leaning against the wall beside the floor-to-ceiling window, shadows fluttering around him. Even the birds in their cages nearby remained silent. (ACOWAR, Chapter 47)
(2) I frowned at the birds in cages throughout the room, still silent in Azriel's shadowy presence. (ACOWAR, Chapter 47)
(3) Azriel barely spoke, those shadows still perched on his shoulders. Mor barely looked at him. (ACOWAR, Chapter 47)
After the disaster of a High Lord/Lady meeting, Azriel is fuming. His shadows are providing him comfort and ease while he doesn’t involve himself with the rest of the Inner Circle.
Still fuming, still brooding. Azriel hasn’t moved from his position by the window. What’s also worth mentioning, as well as with the previous quote, is that the birds in the bird cages turn silent and stay silent in Azriel’s presence.
Azriel, shadows wafting from his shoulders and trailing at his feet, ignored him as he passed. The shadowsinger hadn't shown a flicker of emotion, however, to Mor when he'd met us in the foyer. (ACOWAR, Chapter 48)
After the High Lord/Lady meeting and after Mor's one-night stand with Helion. Azriel, and literally everyone there for that matter, saw what was going on between Mor and Helion, saw them leave together. Needless to say, he's probably a combination of angry, confused, and hurt.
I closed my eyes. During that time, I'd have to get across the battlefield before us, find wherever he kept the Cauldron.
"My shadows are hunting for it," Azriel said to me, reading my face as I opened my eyes. His jaw clenched at the words. He was supposed to be searching for it himself. He flared and settled his wings, as if testing them. "But the wards are strong- no doubt reinforced by the king after you shredded through his at the camp. You might have to go on foot. Wait until the slaughter starts getting sloppy." (ACOWAR, Chapter 69)
This is a perfect example of how Azriel’s shadows basically work for him. While he is with Feyre during the battle, he has his shadows scouting around, looking for the Cauldron. Even his shadows are unable to locate the Cauldron based on the wards that the King placed on them.
"I can fight on foot," Azriel said to Rhys.
"No." There was no arguing with that tone.
Azriel seemed like he was debating it, but Amren shook her head in warning and he backed down, shadows coiling at his fingers. (ACOWAR, Chapter 69)
Azriel is wanting to fight and Rhys is refusing to let him do so. Not to mention that it even takes Amren giving Azriel a warning not to go against Rhys’s orders. Clearly, Azriel isn’t too happy about it with his shadows surrounding his fingers.
Amren snorted, and we fell into flanking positions around my sisters. A glamour of invisibility would hopefully allow us to skirt the southern edge of the battlefield- along with Azriel's shadows as he monitored from behind. But once we got behind enemy lines… (ACOWAR, Chapter 70)
Another example of how Azriel’s shadows not only work for him, but are separate from him. Feyre and Amren are escorting Nesta and Elain to get to the other side of the battlefield. Azriel, talking to Rhys and Eris about their plans, sends some of his shadows as means of protection/invisibility for the group on the move.
Feyre cleared her throat. "All right, Az. Let's hear it."
Azriel folded his wings, shadows writhing around his ankles and neck. "Queen Briallyn has been busier than we thought, but not in the way we expected." (ACOSF, Chapter 20)
It’s very typical for Azriel’s shadows to be present when he’s discussing tense topics and situations with the Inner Circle. Talking about his recent spying missions about Briallyn, we learn that, in the context of the book, he had to torture the information out of many people. Although we know that Azriel literally tortures people for a living, it still doesn’t make the situation any less tense for him to discuss.
Then Rhys inhaled sharply, his body full of movement again. Azriel asked, his own shadows gathering at his shoulders, "What happened?" (ACOSF, Chapter 29)
Nesta’s nightmare that causes the entire House to shake and bring Rhys to help bring her out of it. When Nesta slips into unconsciousness, what the three brothers witnessed strains them. Azriel is not the only one who is surrounded by his own shadows. Rhys’s own are surrounding him as well.
(1) Feyre slid into the seat beside his, but Cassian, Rhys, and Az remained standing, the shadowsinger leaning against a pillar, half-hidden from sight. Feyre asked, "Are the soldiers enchanted?" (ACOSF, Chapter 41)
(2) "Just the Harp remains at large, then," Azriel said. He remained leaning against the pillar, swathed in shadows. (ACOSF, Chapter 41)
Discussions about the Autumn Court soldiers that were in the Oorid that Cassian and Azriel took with Helion, along with discussing the Dread Trove objects. Typical that Azriel makes his presence known, all while at the same time being hidden as well. What a guy.
Azriel stepped forward, shadows trailing from his shoulders. "Kallias, Tarquin, and Helion might be willing to kneel. Thesan will kneel if the others do." (ACOSF, Chapter 42)
Amren discusses with Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel about Gwydion and Narben, along with discussing the possibility of Rhys becoming High King (ew, no. I hate any High King talk). This is also the same time that the brothers are ‘messing’ with the weapons that Nesta made; dangerous weapons that they were advised not to touch (typical).
RHYS
The argument with Rhys this morning had been swift and brutal: Azriel insisted he could fly- fight with the legions, as they'd planned. Rhys refused. Cassian refused. Azriel threatened to slip into shadow and fight anyway. Rhys merely said that if he so much as tried, he'd chain him to a tree. (ACOWAR, Chapter 69)
After Azriel went to the Hybern camp to rescue Elain, he came out extremely injured. Because of this, Rhys felt the need to pull rank and order Azriel to stay on the ground and not fight. We know that Azriel is loyal but this is one of the examples that shows that when it’s something that’s important to him, pulling rank goes only so far. The ability for Azriel to “slip into shadow” is not only a means of transportation but a way to go against Rhys’ orders.
One glance at Azriel's unreadable face and I added, "Don't bother to answer that."
A corner of Azriel's mouth curled up, the shadows about him sliding over his neck like living tattoos, twins to the Illyrian ones marked beneath his leathers. (ACOFAS, Chapter 7)
There are times we see Azriel’s shadows disappear around members for the IC. With that being said, when certain topics are being discussed, topics that do not sit well with Azriel, he is surrounded by his shadows. With this conversation with Rhys, they are talking about a potential Illyrian uprising. Here, Rhys makes a comparison about Azriel’s almost-constant shadows being almost like tattoos.
"The Illyrians are pieces of shit," he said too quietly.
I opened my mouth and shut it.
Shadows gathered around his wings, trailing off him and onto the thick rug. "They train and train as warriors, and yet when they don't come home, their families make us into villains for sending them to war?"
"Their families have lost something irreplaceable," I said carefully.
Azriel waved a scarred hand, his cobalt Siphon glinting with the movement as his fingers cut through the air. "They're hypocrites." (ACOFAS, Chapter 7)
Still talking about Illyrians, whom Azriel very much hates. He’s surrounded by his shadows when it comes to topics like this; in this case, his hatred for the Illyrians. Like, he really fucking hates them so I think Azriel is the last person who would help “fix” Illyria. He would rather watch it burn.
"Send Lucien, then. As our human emissary."
I studied the tenseness in Azriel's shoulders, the shadows veiling half of him from the sunlight. "Lucien is away right now."
Az's brow rose. "Where?"
I winked at him. "You're my spymaster. Shouldn't you know?"
Az crossed his arms, face as elegant and cold as the legendary dagger at his side. "I don't make a point of looking after his movements."
"Why?"
Not a flicker of emotion. "He is Elain's mate."
I waited.
"It would be an invasion of her privacy to track him."
To know when and if Lucien sought her out. What they did together.
"You sure about that?" I asked quietly. (ACOFAS, Chapter 7)
Azriel gets tense and hides half of himself in his shadows when Rhys brings up Lucien. This is clearly a conversation that Azriel doesn’t enjoy and we see that it is because Lucien is Elain’s mate and he not only respects her privacy, but does not want to see if Elain and Lucien have any type of interactions with each other.
"You mean to tell me that you weren't bluffing when you said you didn't track Lucien's every movement?"
Nothing. Absolutely nothing on that face, on his scent. The shadows, whatever the hell they were, hid too well. Too much. Azriel only said coldly, "If Lucien kills Graysen, then good riddance." (ACOFAS, Chapter 7)
Two things come to mind with this quote.
One: Azriel really does not enjoy talking about anything Lucien and Graysen related because his shadows are surrounding him during these specific discussions. (Azriel basically says that Grayson can just drop dead- love that.)
Two: his shadows are known for hiding him in tense situations but with this quote, his shadows also hide Azriel’s scent. Not only is hiding your scent important for a Spymaster, but does he hide his scent around others as well? (I love this man)
"Azriel nodded his agreement, his shadows twining around him. Most of the camp women had ducked into their homes when he'd appeared.
A rare visit from the shadowsinger. Both myth and terror. Az looked just as displeased to be here, but he'd come when I asked." (ACOFAS, Chapter 26)
Talks about the upcoming Blood Rite with Rhys and Cassian. Azriel is willing to interfere with the Blood Rite in order to kill Kallon. (Again, he doesn’t give a shit about Illyrians, being Illyrian, and their traditions) While in Illyria, he’s constantly surrounded by shadows due to his hatred for his heritage. Rare for him to show up, but since he is loyal to Rhys, to an extent, he would go if asked.
FEYRE
A wisp of shadow curled around Azriel's ear, and his eyes snapped to mine. I schooled my face into bland innocence. (ACOMAF, Chapter 16)
The first time Feyre meets the entire IC, she notices Azriel’s shadows, as anyone would have. She also notices that they seem to disappear whenever Mor is around. In this quote, we see one of Azriel’s shadows essentially alert him that he is being watched as he immediately looks at Feyre when his shadow whispers into his ear.
The spymaster had waited in silence. I tried not to look too uncomfortable as he scooped me into his arms, those shadows that whispered to him stroking my neck, my cheek. (ACOMAF, Chapter 22)
Going to the human lands to see her sisters, Feyre requests to be flown by Azriel. While not quite comfortable in Feyre’s presence yet, along with the need to be on alert when it comes to flying over lands, his shadows surround them both. Feyre makes note that the shadows whisper to him, implying there’s a language between only Azriel and the shadows.
Another impact struck the ice behind us. Shadows skittered in its wake. Azriel. (ACOWAR, Chapter 13)
Rescuing Feyre and Lucien from Eris and his brothers. As we see, more shadows. He’s pissed, Especially since it’s now known that Feyre is not only Rhys’s mate but also their High Lady.
"In the blinding sun off the turquoise water, his shadows were gone, his face stark and clear. More... human than I had ever seen him." (ACOWAR, Chapter 29)
Probably one of my favorite quotes about Azriel. During a break from Feyre’s training lesson, Feyre sees that the shadows are gone and Azriel’s face is clear. With the mention of him looking “more human” it is meant to show the reader that Azriel, just like the rest of these characters, carry burdens. Whether it be war, heartache, and/or feeling lost, they have them. In this scene, Azriel’s shadows are gone and his face shows that at the moment, he’s not burdened by his internal and external battles.
Stark: severe or bare in appearance or outline
Azriel had made us invisible- shadow-bound.
We sprinted between tents, feet flying over the grass and dirt. "Hurry," he whispered. "The shadows won't last long." (ACOWAR, Chapter 65)
During the rescue of Elain, dawn is approaching and Azriel knows that all of his shadows won’t last in the sunlight. Since he is making them invisible, it would be difficult to continue that in the light of day.
MOR
Both Illyrians turned toward her, Cassian bracing his feet slightly farther apart on the floor in a fighting stance I knew too well.
It was almost enough to distract me from noticing Azriel as those shadows lightened, and his gaze slid over Mor's body… (ACOMAF, Chapter 16)
When Feyre first meets Azriel, she instantly notices how his shadows lighten and almost disappear in the presence of Mor. We later find out that Azriel has been in love with her for the past five centuries. This shows that whenever Mor is around, he gets put at ease.
Mor patted Azriel on the shoulder as she dodged his outstretched wing. "Relax Az- no fighting tonight. We promised Rhys."
The lurking shadows vanished entirely as Azriel's head dipped a bit- his night-dark hair sliding over his handsome face as if to shield him from that mercilessly beautiful grin. (ACOMAF, Chapter 16)
Any thought about Mor, any touch from Mor, causes Azriel’s shadows to completely vanish. His shadows have learned Azriel’s emotions and language, therefore, know when they are needed and when they’re not.
Yes- Azriel, who kept a step away, whose shadows trailed him and seemed to fade in her presence. (ACOMAF, Chapter 22)
Mor is telling Feyre her backstory and mentions Cassian and Azriel. Everyone associated Azriel with his shadows but in the short time of knowing him, Feyre is able to acknowledge that when his shadows fade in Mor’s presence, they have history. We later find out that that history is him being in love with her for so many years.
Shadows curled around Azriel's shoulders, whispering in his ear as he stared down Eris. (ACOWAR, Chapter 26)
Knowing the history that Mor, Eris, and Azriel share, Azriel is always on edge and angry when it comes to Eris. Azriel was even willing to challenge Eris in a dual for what was done to Mor. His shadows swarm him as they whisper to him, a form of comfort in a tense situation.
CASSIAN
Cassian was trying. Azriel had lunged into the fray, nothing more than shadows edged in blue light, battling his way toward where Cassian fought, utterly surrounded. (ACOWAR, Chapter 56)
During the battle with Hybern, Azriel uses his shadows to fight and move as he tries to get closer to Cassian, to reform the lines.
Cassian hadn't told anyone about the step he'd found with the clear finger holes burned into it. He wondered if Azriel had somehow learned of them, the news brought to him on his shadows' whispers. (ACOSF, Chapter 22)
Another good quote to show that the shadows give news to Azriel about things that he doesn’t specifically see for himself. He’s a spymaster. Not only does he get his information from his own eyes, but he uses his shadows to gain the information as well.
"I thought I'd do some training myself before heading out for the day," Az said, his shadows lingering in the archway, as if fearful of the bright sunlight in the ring. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" (ACOSF, Chapter 23)
As we know, Azriel’s shadows tend to sometimes disappear in the sunlight but not always (see quote below). Azriel seems to be perfectly fine with his shadows lingering in the archway. He’s not concerned about it so why are you? Moving on.
"Where have you been exercising these days?'
"Here," Azriel said. "At night." After he returned from spying on their enemies.
"Can't sleep?" Cassian took up a fighting stance.
A shadow curled around Azriel's neck, the only one brave enough to face the sunlight. "Something like that," he said, and settled into his own stance across from Cassian.
Cassian let it drop, knowing Az would have told him already if he'd wanted to share what had been hounding him enough to exercise at night, rather than in the morning with them. (ACOSF, Chapter 23)
Here, Cassian is questioning Azriel about his training and why he now tends to train at night. Something (Elain) is weighing on Azriel’s mind so he uses training at night as an outlet. That being said, going back to how his shadows provide comfort to him when he’s feeling down, a shadow of his is “braving the sunlight” to provide a little bit of comfort to Azriel as Cassian brings up this topic.
The air parted, and Azriel appeared at his heels, unsteady and bobbing, but flying. Darkness rose behind them, confirmation that Az wielded his shadows to hide their captives. (ACOSF, Chapter 34)
As Azriel and Cassian leave after fighting with Autumn Court soldiers, Azriel uses his shadows to hide them from anyone who might find them, until he can get back to them for questioning.
"I think the better question is if Eris is still alive," Azriel murmured, shadows whispering in his ear. "I can't get a read on it." (ACOSF, Chapter 67)
As we read ACOSF, we know that the Inner Circle has formed some type of alliance with Eris. In this quote, Azriel is trying to locate Eris’s whereabouts and if he’s alive but he can’t tell. His shadows are searching but they whisper to him that they can’t tell.
Cassian rolled his eyes. "I stopped spying because it bored me to death. I don't know how you put up with this all the time."
"It suits me." Azriel didn't halt his sharpening, though shadows gathered around his feet. (ACOSF, Chapter 68)
Spying and waiting for Eris to appear. Cassian is out of his mind due to Nesta being in the Blood Rite while Azriel sits in wait, sharpening Truth Teller, with his shadows present, waiting to alert any movement to him.
The shadows deepened around Azriel, his Siphons gleaming like cobalt fire. "You-we-trained them well, Cassian. Trust in that. It's all we can do." (ACOSF, Chapter 68)
The trio being involved in the Blood Rite is worrisome. Cassian is going out of his mind while Azriel attempts to calm him. Azriel, having not only experienced the Rite but knows how Illyrians are, causes his shadows to deepen.
MOR & CASSIAN
It was an effort not to stare at Azriel as he watched them head up the steep street, arm in arm bickering with every step. The shadows gathered around his shoulders, like they were indeed whispering to him, shielding him, perhaps. His broad chest expanded with a deep breath that sent them skittering, and then he set into an easy, graceful stroll after them. (ACOMAF, Chapter 29)
Feyre, the prophet herself, is the one to point out that seeing Azriel’s shadows gather around him as he watches Mor and Cassian is a sign of protection. This is her very first time experiencing Azriel display some form of longing and jealousy towards Cassian and Mor’s dynamic. His shadows seem as if they were whispering to him, to relax him. Honestly, his shadows here skitter due to unexpected air movement.
Now, please continue to tell me that when his shadows disappear, that it’s a bad thing. This quote right here literally proves otherwise. When the shadows disappear, he does not need them.
Skitter: to move lightly and quickly or hurriedly
Mor elbowed him in the ribs. Cassian nudged her right back as Azriel shook his head at both of them, shadows coiling around the tips of his wings. (ACOWAR, Chapter 16)
Slight jealousy about the dynamic between Mor and Cassian but not as much as the quote mentioned above. The Inner Circle is also discussing war against Hybern as well. Both instances bring out his shadows.
ELAIN
Azriel arrived first, no shadows to be seen, my sister a pale, golden mass in his arms. He, too, wore his Illyrian armor, Elain's golden-brown hair snagging in some of the black scales across his chest and shoulders.
He set her down gently on the foyer carpet, having carried her in through the front door.
Elain peered up at his patient, solemn face.
Azriel smiled faintly. "Would you like me to show you the garden?" (ACOWAR, Chapter 24)
By the time we get to this point within the series, we know that Azriel’s shadows are not always present. We see this here when he carries Elain down to the townhouse. This is not the first time Azriel has been in Elain’s presence. We know that they met at the Archeron estate back in ACOMAF (“the only two civilized ones here”) and we all know the ending to ACOMAF in Hybern.
With that being said, it is important to note that his shadows are nowhere to be seen when escorting Elain down to the townhouse. Just like he is when he is in the presence of Mor (and sometimes his family), he is comfortable enough to have no need for his shadows.
"I can help her," said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ears, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand.
Nesta monitored him like a hawk, but kept silent as Elain took his hand, and out they went. (ACOWAR, Chapter 30)
Just like when he escorted Elain from the HoW to the townhouse, when he volunteers to escort Elain to the garden, there are no shadows. Again, he is at ease and is comfortable. I would also like to note that, not only does he volunteer to take Elain, but he’s also not hiding from the sunlight like I know some people like to think he does. Azriel craves sunlight, just as much as any person would, after being deprived from it for the first 11 years of his life.
Behind me, Mor took Nesta and Cassian by the hand, readying to winnow them to the camp, while shadows gathered around Azriel, Elain at his side, wide-eyed at the spymaster's display.
[...]
Rhys cleared his throat, and nodded to Mor. Then she was gone, Cassian and Nesta with her. Then Azriel, gently taking Elain's hand in his own, as if afraid his scars would hurt her. (ACOWAR, Chapter 50)
Without going too ‘pro Elriel’, I would like to take this opportunity to point out that Elain has never been afraid of Azriel and his shadows. She has looked at them with wonder and has never cringed from them. In this quote, Azriel is using his shadows to transport both him and Elain to Illyria.
Azriel stepped out of shadow. "What is that,'"he hissed.
My brows rose. 'You hear it?'
A shake of the head. "No- but the shadows, the wind... They recoil." (ACOWAR, Chapter 63)
As we know, Azriel’s shadows are different from winnowing. Azriel literally steps out of shadow when he uses them for transportation. We see that in this quote, along with the mention of the Cauldron and the noise it is making. The sound that the Cauldron gives off makes his shadows recoil.
Recoil: suddenly spring or flinch back in fear, horror, and disgust.
From shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, "I'm getting her back."
Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel's hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows.
Nesta said, "Then you will die."
Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, "I'm getting her back." (ACOWAR, Chapter 64)
Elain has been taken by the Cauldron to the Hybern camp. Azriel is surrounded by his shadows in anger. With the knowledge that he could potentially die, he does not hesitate to be the one to rescue Elain. By this point within the series, we know that when the shadows surround Azriel, he’s uncomfortable, brooding, angry, or all three.
Azriel silently faded into blackness- until he was my own shadow and nothing more. (ACOWAR, Chapter 65)
Feyre accompanies Azriel to Hybern’s camp to rescue Elain. With Feyre taking the form of Ianthe, Azriel uses his shadows to blend in with Feyre’s shadow as they enter- a form of stealth.
But through the laughter and singing and music, over the roar of the fire... Screaming.
A shadow gripped my shoulder, reminding me not to run.
Ianthe would not run- would not show alarm.
My mouth went dry as that scream sounded again.
I couldn't bear it- to let it go on, to see what was being done-
Azriel's shadow-hand grasped my own, tugging me closer. His rage rippled off his invisible form.
We made a lazy circuit of the revelry, other parts of it becoming clear. The screaming-
It was not Elain. (ACOWAR, Chapter 65)
While being Feyre’s “shadow” as she enters the camp as Ianthe, Azriel’s presence remains solid. When hearing a scream, Feyre can feel Azriel holding her back. In doing so, both of them have no idea whether or not it is Elain. We see Azriel’s fury at the thought of the screaming being Elain's when his shadow-covered hand grabs Feyre’s and she can literally feel his rage coming from him.
Azriel emerged from the deep shadows in the corner of the tent a heartbeat later. He jerked his chin toward the curtains in the back. I began intoning one of Ianthe's many prayers, a pretty speech I'd heard her say a thousand times at the Spring Court.
We rushed across the rugs, dodging tables and furniture. I chanted her prayers all the while.
Azriel slid back the curtain-
Elain was in her nightgown. Gagged, wrists wrapped in steel that glowed violet. Her eyes went wide as she say us- Azriel and me-
I shifted my face back into my own, raising a hand to my lips as Azriel knelt before her. I kept up my litany or praying, beseeching the Cauldron to make my womb fruitful, on and on-
Azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. "Are you hurt?"
She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it.
"You came for me." The shadowsinger only inclined his head. (ACOWAR, Chapter 65)
Elain’s rescue from the Hybern camp. Before this scene, it is noted that Jurian was aware of Azriel hiding in shadow. He emerges from the shadows in the tent to rescue Elain while Feyre continues the ruse of pretending to be Ianthe. I’m sorry, I couldn’t bring myself to cut half of this scene.
I saw the painting in my mind: a 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. (ACOWAR, Chapter 69)
Before the battle of Hybern, Azriel gives Elain Truth-Teller, his prized dagger whom he has let no one in his entire life touch until Elain. From Feyre’s point of view, she pictures this scene in a poetic way- with Death itself standing before the Maiden, both who have formed a bond.
Side note: Throughout the ACOTAR series, it’s important to note that whenever Feyre thinks of a specific scene as a ‘painting’, it means that it’s pretty significant. All of her ‘paintings’ that she has pictured have been some type of foreshadowing or major event within the story.
"What now?" Elain mused, at last answering my question from a moment ago as her attention drifted to the windows facing the sunny street. That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel's shadows across the room. "I would like to build a garden," she declared. "After all of this... I think the world needs more gardens." (ACOWAR, Chapter 80)
Another scene with Azriel’s shadows lightning when it comes to being in Elain’s presence. Everyone has just survived the war and is back in Velaris. For Elain, the one who took becoming Fae the hardest, smiled so bright that, not only did it brighten the entire room, but it brightened the shadows. Another sense of ease and comfort throughout Azriel and the entire IC.
The shadowsinger was clad in a black jacket and pants similar to Rhysand's- the fabric immaculately tailored and built to fit his wings. 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."
Elain turned from the snow falling in the darkness beyond and smiled slightly. "I've never participated in one of these." (ACOFAS, Chapter 19)
This is a good example that shows that yes, even in the presence of Elain, his shadows are sometimes still there. Azriel and Elain are not alone, they are in the presence of the entire Inner Circle. Azriel’s shadows are present for comfort, should he need it.
Azriel cleared his throat, and Cassian blinked. "What?"
"I said, are you two ready to head down to the river house?"
"Two?" He blinked through the cloud or arousal.
Azriel chuckled, shadows skittering. "Did you listen at all last night?"
"No."
"At least you're honest." Azriel smirked. "You and Nesta are wanted down there."
"Because of the shit with Elain?"
Azriel stilled. "What happened to Elain?"
Cassian waved a hand. "A fight with Nesta. Don't bring it up," he warned when Azriel's eyes darkened. Cassian blew out a breath, "I take that as a no regarding the meeting topic, then."
"It's about what I discovered. Rhys said he requires you both there."
"It's bad, then." Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. "You all right?"
His brother nodded. "Fine." But shadows still swarmed him.
Cassian knew it was a lie, but didn't push it. Az would speak when he was ready, and Cassian would have better success convincing a mountain to move than getting Az to open. (ACOSF, Chapter 19)
I put this quote in the Elain category because it obviously has to do with Elain. Two things need to be said about this quote.
1. Once again, his shadows skitter due to unexpected air movement. When Azriel laughs, his shadows skitter. They literally move away from him. Remember that.
Skitter: to move lightly and quickly or hurriedly
2. Azriel is at the HoW to inform Cassian and Nesta that they’re needed at the Riverside estate. He is taken off guard when he learns there was a fight between Nesta and Elain. Cassian makes note of the shadows that are building up and swarming Azriel. He even questions if he’s okay because he notices the change. Azriel was fuming at the thought of Elain being hurt and/or upset. Cassian even knows it’s a lie when Azriel tells him he’s fine.
“Look who decided to grow claws after all,” she crooned. “Maybe you’ll become interesting at last, Elain.”
Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike. (ACOSF, Chapter 21)
Listen, this is the same energy as the time when Cassian was briefly telling Azriel about the fight Nesta and Elain previously had. Quick recap: Azriel got pissed at the thought of Elain being hurt by Nesta. Shadows gathered around him because of how pissed he was. The end. Again, same energy.
Azriel is in the room when this scene is taking place. Nesta doesn’t want Elain being involved when it comes to tracking the Dread Trove’s. Elain fights back because she wants to help. Nesta decides to be a bitch about it. Everyone in the room can see how Nesta’s words affected Elain. Azriel, witnessing this all take place, is pissed yet again. Hence how his shadows are getting prepared to strike at Nesta, Elain’s own sister. This same exact phrase was used about Azriel himself being done with Nesta. Please, refrain from saying that the shadows hate Elain. If they hated her, they would literally just say “you’re on your own with this.” Miss me with that b.s.
NESTA
Azriel said coolly, "I don't need to resort to threats." The shadows coiled around him, snakes ready to strike. (ACOSF, Chapter 8)
Nesta is in a bad mood. Azriel is in a bad mood. Nesta threatens and challenges Azriel. Azriel’s shadows react to his mood, ready to protect him from a threat. Case closed.
Azriel turned to them fully this time, eyes narrowed. Like those shadows had whispered something to him. (ACOSF, Chapter 44)
Cassian is telling Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn about his time with the Valkyries. The rebirth of the Valkyries is a pretty big fucking deal and since Azriel was not with Cassian during his time spent with the Valkyries during the first war, he does not know much about them. As Azriel is training the other priestesses, Cassian is telling his story. Before this quote, it is stated that Azriel is monitoring every word and gesture that Cassian is making. Azriel’s shadows seem to whisper to him to listen because it’s a big deal.
Azriel lingered near the door, quiet enough that when Feyre and Mor began talking about some of her painting, Nesta went over to him.
"Why don't you sit?" She leaned against the doorway beside the shadowsinger.
"My shadows don't like the flames so much." A pretty lie. She'd seen Azriel before the fire plenty. But she looked at who sat close to it and knew the answer.
"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." Shadows darkened his eyes, full of enough pain that she couldn't stop herself from touching his shoulder. Letting him see that she understood why he stood in the doorway, why he wouldn't go near the fire.
His secret to tell, never hers.
Azriel's face remained neutral. (ACOSF, Chapter 58)
In this scene, Azriel uses his shadows as an excuse as to why he is standing away from the fire, lingering in the doorway. Nesta can see through his lie and learns the real reason why he cannot be near the fire. *cough* Elain *cough*
Queue Sarah Janet Maas: “Nesta learns some of Az’s secrets.”
Azriel blushed and stepped back, shadows swirling. (ACOSF, Chapter 58)
When Azriel gives Nesta her gift at Solstice, she jumps up and hugs him, surprising everyone. Due to slight embarrassment, his shadows are around him, just in case he feels the need to shield himself from the embarrassment.
Cassian lingered at the doorway as Nesta murmured to Gwyn, "You've got this." Azriel came up beside him, silent as the shadows that wreathed his wings. (ACOSF, Chapter 60)
Both Cassian and Azriel are watching the trio do more Valkyrie training. Azriel’s shadows continue to surround him. Enough said.
Az's shadows danced around him. "Since there's no chance in hell any of you will finish the course, we didn't bother to get a prize." (ACOSF, Chapter 60)
Azriel is talking to all of the priestesses, along with Nesta and Emerie, about their upcoming obstacle course. Cassian and Azriel are having fun with this because they don’t see any of them accomplishing the course.
Note: This quote seems to be a hot topic when it comes to Azriel and his shadows. The word danced is just used as an analogy for movement, a word that SJM uses often. If you’re interested, check out my small post here for examples.
AZRIEL & THE SHADOWS
Azriel's dark breeze was different from Rhys's. Colder. Sharper. It cut through the world like a blade, spearing us toward that army camp. (ACOWAR, Chapter 64)
Feyre here is explaining the difference between Rhys’s shadows and Azriel’s. Basically implying that while Rhys may have shadows sometimes, especially with winnowing, Azriel’s are different.
Cassian soared over the House of Wind to find Azriel there, hovering in place, a heavy pack in his hand. Whether that had been from a separate warning from Rhys, or Az's own shadows whispering, he didn't know. (ACOSF, Chapter 47)
Again, another example of how Azriel’s shadows basically hear everything, report back to him, and Azriel can do what needs to be done.
Even Azriel's own shadows kept tucked behind his wings. Koschei laughed, and Azriel stiffened. Like his shadows had murmured a warning. (ACOSF, Chapter 71)
Meeting Koschei, Azriel’s shadows seem to be just as terrified of him as Azriel does. Koschei speaks on the wind, Azirel’s shadows speak on the wind as well. Koschei said something to his shadows through the wind, causing them to warn Azriel who, in turn, then had “pure terror” on his face. He then grabs Eris and flees.
AZRIEL POV
Az snickered to himself, to the listening shadows around him.
Sleep, they seemed to whisper in his ear. Sleep.
I wish I could, he answered silently. But sleep so rarely found him these days.
Coming from Azriel himself, he speaks and listens to his shadows in their own language. They seem to want what’s best from him and his health, as they’re telling him to get some sleep because he gets so little.
But even the silence weighed too heavily, and though the shadows kept him company, as they always had, as they always would, he found himself leaving the room. Entering the foyer.
Confirmed. Whenever the shadows are around, they keep him company. Now please, tell me more about how his shadows disappearing is a bad thing. Next.
Lie. Well, the second part was a lie. He didn't need his shadows to read her tone, the slight tightening of her face.
“He didn’t need his shadows”. This is literally telling us that he uses his shadows to get a feel for what a person might be thinking. The fact that Azriel doesn’t need to depend on his shadows to read Elain should tell everyone just how close their dynamic with each other is.
Elain sucked in a soft breath that whispered over his skin. His shadows skittered back at the sound. They'd always been prone to vanish when she was around.
Again with the word ‘skitter’. This time, his shadows skitter due to the sound Elain makes. This is not a bad thing. Azriel’s shadows skittered back when Azriel himself laughed. C’mon now. Please see the definition for skitter below. Azriel also recognizes that his shadows vanish in Elain’s presence. This is basically implying that it’s not a bad thing. Like I said before, if Azriel isn’t concerned, why are you?
Skitter: to move lightly and quickly or hurriedly
[...] Azriel let his shadows whisk away the box as she said softly, "Put it on me?"
Here we have his shadows essentially working for him. Not much else to it.
Azriel winnowed into shadows before she could say anything, appearing at the doors to Rhys's study a heartbeat later. His shadows whispered in his ear that Elain had gone upstairs.
Here Azriel uses his shadows to transport himself to Rhys’s study. They also seem to be keeping watch over Elain, as they report to him that she had gone upstairs when he left.
(1) He found it already occupied. His shadows had not warned him.
(2) “It's fine. I came 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.
(3) The young priestess smiled--and Azriel thought it might have been directed at his curious shadows.
(4) “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.
(5) 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.
(6) 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.
Okay, here’s the deal. I’m combining all of the quotes about Gwyn because it’s easier to explain all at once. So, first things first, his shadows did not warn him when he was flying to the training ring (1). Very strange, based on the fact that his shadows tell him literally everything else. His shadows not warning him should not be taken as a good thing, let’s be real. We also have his shadows sitting on his shoulders and peering over his wings (2, 5). As seen in the quote above, Azriel knows and is aware that his shadows are there to also provide him comfort. This is coming from Azriel himself. Once again, Azriel’s shadows being present is a sign of comfort, protection, and/or work.
Gwyn also seems to be more interested in the shadows rather than Azriel himself (3). This correlates to how his shadows react to Gwyns breath and singing (4, 6). AGAIN, his shadows are the one’s reacting to Gwyn, not Azriel. I, personally, find it a little odd that the shadows react to Gwyn’s breath/singing the way they do. Very similar to how Nesta’s power within her reacted to Gwyn’s singing as well.
Yes, I’m going to be that person and say that all of these interactions with Gwyn pretty much confirm her being a Lightsinger. I am not saying that Gwyn will be evil (my god, I can’t believe I have to even say that about every Gwyn post), all I’m saying is that there's a pretty good chance that she is. Whether she’s being manipulated or she has no clue, who knows. Long story short, Azriel’s shadows are basically trying to figure out Gwyn’s “secret” (see ACOSF, Chapter 9 for more details).
BONUS
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." (ACOWAR, Chapter 74)
I debated whether or not to add this but why not. Elain was using Truth-Teller, Azriel’s dagger. Were these Azriel’s shadows? Elain’s shadows? Does using Truth-Teller give a connection to Azriel and his shadows? Who knows.
280 notes · View notes
offtorivendell · 3 years
Text
Azriel, Elain, Sunlight, Shadows and Humanity
Please do not screenshot or share this post without credit.
Disclaimer: these are my own interpretations, and obviously not canon - though I do think that the text supports Elain and Azriel ending up together.
TW: mention of canon childhood abuse.
This might be a stretch, I know - or maybe it's already been discussed - but SJM tends to choose her words carefully, and I can't remember Rhys or Cassian ever being described as "human;" only Azriel. That, to me, is significant.
Tumblr media
In ACOFAS, Feyre clashes with Elain after Elain, once again, is uncomfortable around a visiting Lucien and flees the room to make tea - tea seems to be important in Elain's story, too, but more on that in another post.
Her mouth tightened, the only sign of anger in her graceful countenance. “I don’t want a mate. I don’t want a male.” She wanted a human man.
- Feyre, ACOFAS, chapter 18
We know Azriel is obviously not a human man - he is, in fact, a male who may or may not be her true mate - I've got my fingers crossed for carranam - we'll have to wait and see, and it's unlikely that SJM would have him and Elain turn human as part of their story - though obviously never say never - but he did live in almost constant darkness for his first 11 years, so seeing/experiencing sunlight must be a huge deal, and a comfort for him... so much so that his shadows don't feel the need to remain visible at these times.
Azriel led me toward the lake edge. In the blinding sun off the turquoise water, his shadows were gone, his face stark and clear. More … human than I had ever seen him.
“There’s no chance that I’ll be able to fly in the legions, is there?” I asked, kneeling beside him as he tended to my skinned palms with expert care and gentleness. The sun was brutal against his scars, hiding not one twisted, rippling splotch.
- Feyre, ACOWAR, chapter 29
Feyre conflated Az looking human with the following terms:
Stark - severe or bare in appearance or outline.
Clear - easy to understand, interpret, or perceive; or transparent, unclouded.
Elain is frequently described as the sun, or glowing etc., and Az's scars are symbolic of the cruelty and abuse that he experienced at the hands of his fae family as a child. Applied to a potential Elriel relationship, the above passages could indicate that Elain (the sun) Sees all of Azriel - he is laid bare, understandable, transparent to her. We know from Azriel's bonus chapter in ACOSF that he and Elain don't seem to need words to understand each other. It sounds like someone who Sees him for who he truly is could help bring him out of the dark.
Interpreting Azriel's shadows and their behaviour in this way - that they disappear when he is feeling comfortable, secure and/or happy - suggests that not only will Elain bring him out of himself, but that she also makes him happy. The only other person we have seen his shadows vanish around is Mor, with whom he was previously in (unrequited) love, but he's slowly been moving past that, we assume ever since he met Elain, but maybe earlier.
Azriel arrived first, no shadows to be seen, my sister a pale, golden mass in his arms. He, too, wore his Illyrian armor, Elain’s golden- brown hair snagging in some of the black scales across his chest and shoulders. He set her down gently on the foyer carpet, having carried her in through the front door.
But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded—just once. Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.”
- Feyre, ACOWAR, chapter 24
The shadows haven't felt the need to keep Az comforted around Elain from the start, he carried her in through the front door of the townhouse, and she called his scars beautiful? We are being told something - and someone will possibly be gifted the townhouse. 😉
Azriel's bonus chapter in ACOSF, the most recent book - and thus the most current indication we have of SJM's intent - also has a passage that describes the necklace that he bought for Elain in such a way that it appears that the necklace is representative of him, though I think it is also connected to Elain, too.
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 the 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?"
His head went quiet. But he took the necklace, opening the clasp as she exposed her back, sweeping her hair up in one hand to bare her long, creamy neck.
- Azriel, ACOSF, Azriel’s bonus chapter
Once again, we have something whose "true depth" will be exposed by the light, and the vulnerability required for that is then mirrored in the way that Elain bared her neck to him. Mate behaviour? Of course not!
If this is the correct interpretation, then Az is symbolically giving himself to Elain. Not only that, but the colours mentioned in the rose are absolutely significant:
Red - passionate affection, love
Pink - admiration, joy
White - purity, loyalty, innocence, new beginnings, hope, a shared secret
Red and pink - says "I love you."
Red and white - unity
Azriel's confrontation with Rhys after his almost kiss with Elain set up a situation where he and Elain will have to see each other in secret if they decide to proceed, potentially even if Elain rejects her bond with Lucien early on (Beron would likely still consider it an insult, even if Lucien doesn't), and the colours in the necklace perfectly foreshadow this eventuality. I am intentionally not discussing the third part of Azriel's bonus chapter and what happened with the necklace, as I truly believe it was a misdirection to generate interest for the next book (and very well played).
Furthermore, Cassian even thought the following about Mor, in ACOSF:
She never stopped appreciating the sunshine. Even five hundred years after leaving that veritable prison she’d called home and the monsters who claimed her as kin, his friend—his sister, honestly—still savored every moment in the sun. As if the first seventeen years of her life, spent in the darkness of the Hewn City, still lurked around her like Az’s shadows.
- Cassian, ACOSF, chapter 4
SJM had Cassian mention Mor's upbringing in terms that are equally applicable to Azriel's own childhood, call her his sister for the first time (Az is his brother in much the same way, obviously minus that), and then brings it all back around to Az once more with a direct comparison of the darkness of the Hewn City to Azriel's shadows.
It's not subtle at all, and it appears to be telling us that Azriel both needs and wants to be free of the darkness - not the darkness that represents the Night Court, but rather the darkness that his past has left with him. I'm not saying that Azriel will definitely lose his shadows completely for good - he is a shadowsinger, after all - but I am wondering whether he may lose them temporarily, for whatever reason, or his reliance on his shadows during times of emotional turmoil will be curtailed. Just like Elain's sisters, Azriel's shadows seem to "stifle" him, preventing him from growing.
Due to his childhood trauma, and how his mother was treated, Azriel is not fond of Illyria - at least not so far in the series - and Rhys has mentioned that he is different. Perhaps Elain, sun personified, will not need a human man, but a male who values her humanity. I wonder if it will help Azriel on his journey, much like I assume - risky, I know! - that Azriel (and Nuala and Cerridwen!) will help Elain discover herself and come into her own as part of her own story (but that's another post).
Azriel chuckled, shadows skittering. “Did you listen at all last night?”
ACOSF, chapter 19
We were listening!
229 notes · View notes
hacawijo · 3 years
Text
Alright, If We’re Gonna Play with Az’s Bonus Chapter, Let’s PLAY with Az’s Bonus Chapter (Pt. 1)
I’m going to do a close reading of this bonus chapter, because this whole thing is stressing me out and I want to write out what I think I know what I definitely know and what I’m worried about. Here. We. Go. 
I’m not going to directly quote supporting info in this post, but I will be using a LOT of quotes in the next few weeks, so if anyone wants me to confirm a certain statement I’m making here just let me know and I’ll drop the receipts :)
Also this is super long but I had a lot of thoughts I’m excited about! My commentary is in bold italics!
The river house had finally fallen quiet after the raucous Winter Solstice party, the faelights dimming to cast little pools of gold amid the deep shadow here is an example of contrast between light and dark, which many have made salient points on regarding the counterbalance of Elain/Azriel and their relationship of the longest night of the year.
Amren, Mor, and Varian had finally gone to bed, but Azriel found himself lingering downstairs.
He knew he should get some sleep. He’d need it come dawn, for the snowball battle up at the cabin. Cassian had mentioned no less than six times tonight that he had a secret plan regarding his so-called impending victory. Az had let his brother boast. Especially since Azriel had been planning his own victory for a year now. Had been planning his own victory for a year now, and had one the past 199 years’ worth of fights.
Cassian wouldn’t know what was coming for him. And Az fully planned on capitalizing on the fact that Nesta likely wouldn’t let Cassian sleep much tonight.
Az snickered to himself, to the listening shadows around him. Note the differentiation between himself and the shadows around him - he snickers to them outside of himself, as they are not HIM, they are his companions.
Sleep, they seemed to whisper in his ear. Sleep.
I wish I could, he answered silently. But sleep so rarely found him these days. Again, engaging in a conversation with them. Though he does say that they SEEMED to whisper sleep, which is interesting. He seems to communicate with them beyond worded language, this is a case where he’s translating whatever that communication is into words.
Too many razor-sharp thoughts sliced him any time he grew still long enough for them to strike Yeah this guy needs some therapy for sure, love him but this feels very much like the state of avoidance that Nesta found herself in. Too many wants and needs left his skin overheated and pulling taut across his bones. so he slept only when his body gave out, and even then only for a few hours. This feels very much like an extreme, one that certainly didn’t exist all of the time with Mor (otherwise he’s truly not been sleeping for…ever). I have a very, very hard time believing he would have this reaction because of lust or a coveting kind of obsession.
Azriel surveyed the empty family room, presents and ribbons littering the furniture. Cassian and Nesta hadn’t reappeared downstairs, though that came as no surprise. He was elated for his brother, and yet...
Azriel couldn’t stop it. The envy in his chest. Of Cassian, and Rhys. This is almost exactly the sentiment expressed by Cassian in ACOFAS/ACOSF
He knew he’d be swallowed by it if he went up to his bedroom, so he’d remained down here by the dying light of the fire.
But even the silence weighed too heavily, and though the shadows kept him company, as they always had, as they always would, he found himself leaving the room. Entering the foyer. Entering the foyer for what? Entering in order to go to bed? Or was he drawn there, somehow knowing Elain would be there? I really don’t know the answer and I don’t have a preference as to whether or not they are mates, but it’s worth thinking about. Also important to note that the SHADOWS ARE NOT ENOUGH FOR AZRIEL. They are his friends, an important coping mechanism, but they are not the sum of who he is, nor do they even represent the part of himself that is most realized or fulfilled.
Soft steps padded from under the stair archway, and there she was.
The faelights gilded Elain’s unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn. She halted, her breath catching in her throat. Again, imagery to highlight a contrast between the two of them, Elain as the sun at dawn. Note that it’s talking about dawn, not day. SJM has repeatedly used language about Summer, Dawn, Spring and such to describe Elain, which makes me wonder if her light is meant to transcend the courts - in the same way that the shadows are not the sum of Azriel, the sun (the Day, the Dawn, Spring, Summer etc.) is not the sum of Elain.
“I...” He watched her swallow. She clutched a small gift in her hands. “I was coming to leave this on your pile of presents. I forgot to give it to you earlier.” One thing I noticed on closer examination, she went downstairs to leave it in his pile, not to see him. I wonder if it hurts her to be around HIM as well. Elain has said several times in this book (either on the page or in second- or third-hand account) that she is committed to this court, and I wonder if that same commitment that had her going to the Hewn City is what also has prevented her from ending things with Lucien. It’s not in her nature to be disingenuous, and so she cannot fake certain feelings for him, but it IS in her nature to be selfless, and she probably understands what their mating bond means and how important Lucien’s alliance is. I wonder also if she is unsure as to Azriel’s feelings or if she knows somehow, as Azriel sort of implies she might below.
Lie. Well, the second part was a lie. He didn’t need his shadows to read her tone, the slight tightening of her face. She’d waited until everyone was asleep before venturing down, where she’d leave her gift amongst his other, opened presents, subtle and unnoticed. This is another instance in which Azriel sees her when no one else does, even when she’s not intending or someone to see her. Also, of course, important to note that he can read her without his shadows - a crutch that he uses in interactions with many other people.
Elain closed the distance, and her breathing quickened as she again paused, now a scant foot away. She extended the wrapped gift, her hand shaking. “Here.” Elain makes ALL the moves in this scene - she approaches him, she asks him to put the necklace on her, she leans in, she says yes etc. etc. I think Azriel is actually very respectful and restrained throughout this whole interaction.
Az tried not to look at his scarred fingers as they took the gift. Azriel is ashamed of his scars, and is ashamed of them with Feyre and Mor as well as Elain, this is an across-the-board part of his characterization. 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 The headache powder: proof that Elain has been seeing him - specifically seeing him rub his temples. Not to use, but to look at. Which he’d done every night he’d slept there. Or attempted to sleep there.
Azriel unwrapped the box, glancing at the card that merely said, You might find these useful at the House these days, and then opened the lid. Elain is not a casual person, she can’t even handle it when Feyre (her sister) tries to talk to her and Nesta (her other sister) privately about High Fae menstruation. For every lack of flourish or formality that Elain gives Azriel, that is another measured degree of comfort she feels with him - she wouldn’t give an unsigned, familiar note to just anyone.
Two small, bean-shaped fabric blobs lay within. Elain murmured, “You put them in your ears, and they block any sound. With Nesta and Cassian living there with you...”
He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse. “No wonder you didn’t want me to open it in front of everyone.”
Elain’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Nesta wouldn’t appreciate the joke.” Elain and Azriel have similar senses of humor. Not necessarily in content, but in the way it sort of crops up off-the-cuff and sometimes unnoticed. I like that Elain makes him laugh.
He offered a smile back. “I wasn’t sure if I should give you your present.”
He left the rest unspoken.  Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn’t stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much.
Elain’s large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days. Alright so, this is really curious. Does this mean that they both seem to be aware of the other’s feelings AND aware that the other is aware of their feelings? I really do wonder if, in this case, Az is an unreliable narrator- maybe assuming more certainty of Elain than she actually has. Again, I don’t think he would have such a visceral reaction to Elain and Lucien being in the same room (and not even close to each other at all) if he was just infatuated or in lust with her
But tonight, here in the dark and quiet more juxtaposition, with no one to see... no one to see, except the two of them, who always see more than others and who always see each other more than anyone else He pulled the small velvet box from the shadows around him. Opened it for her.
Elain sucked in a soft breath that whispered over his skin. His shadows skittered back at the sound. They’d always been prone to vanish when she was around. If Azriel is aware of the fact that his shadows disappear around Elain, and is still almost certainly in love with Elain, I think we can gather that it’s a positive thing for his shadows to give them privacy- which- btw, is what I think they are doing. The shadows feel to Azriel, to me, the way that the HoW feels to Nesta. The HoW doesn’t dislike Cassian, but also doesn’t need to be as diligent with Nesta when he’s around, because the House trusts Cassian with her.
The golden necklace seemed ordinary — it’s 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 truth depth of the colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty. So I don’t think he’s saying that Elain is a thing here. I think he’s saying that HIS FEELINGS for her are a thing of secret, lovely beauty. It’s been made pretty clear that Elain’s physical AND inner beauty are decidedly visible and prominent. She is, the opposite of secret- though she is often described as lovely. I think what’s more interesting here is the time dedicated to describing this gift and the time dedicated to describing Lucien’s gift of pearl earrings (more on that later, but spoiler-alert, that’s the extent of the description)
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, lifting it from the box. The golden faelight shone through the little glass facets this word choice is notable because it’s an indication of layers and depth and different sides, setting the charm glowing with hues of red and pink and white. Azriel let his shadows he let them do it, again the way he interacts with his shadows does not make it seem like they ARE him. It would probably say “Azriel’s shadows whisked away the box” or “Azriel used his shadows to…” etc. whisk away the box as she said softly, “Put it on me?” Again, Elain is driving the action
His head went quiet. But he took the necklace, opening the clasp as she exposed her back sweeping her hair up in one hand to bare her long, creamy neck. That this situation is described in such slow, delicate detail evokes a sense of intimacy and gravity to the reader. Every tiny piece of this little bite of interaction means something to Azriel and probably to Elain.
He knew it was wrong, but there he was, sliding the necklace around her. Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin this word choice is admittedly a little strange, but the use of this and later of the word sacrilege is FAR from the first time SJM uses religiously-coded language to describe a romantic/sexual/intimate situation. In this very book, Cassian describes his sex with Nesta “as close to a religious experience” as he’d ever gotten - furthermore, there is often talk of the worship of bodies. More on this in another post! ALSO, of course he thinks about touching her in relation to himself. He is himself, for one thing, for another, one of the most reinforced aspects of Azriel’s character that has been made clear to us as readers is his belief that he is unworthy. This comes up not at all just with Elain, it comes up everywhere. It comes up when Azriel volunteers for the most dangerous assignments, it comes up with Mor A LOT, it comes up with Rhys and Cassian. I HAVE A LOT MORE TO SAY ABOUT AZRIEL SO I JUST NEED TO STOP TYPING RIGHT N. Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture. Elain shivered that’s hot and he took a damn long time fastening the clasp.
Azriel’s fingers lingered at her nape, atop the first knob of her spine SUCH precise language, so agonizing. Slowly, Elain pivoted into his touch. Until his palm lay flat against her neck.
It had never gone this far. They’d exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching. Another important line in reiterating the fact that there are two people participating in this interaction and the broader relationship, with the use of ‘exchanged’ and ‘their.’ It could easily also say something like, “Azriel had never gone this far. She’d sometimes caught him looking at her and he her, and every so often he’d taken the risk of brushing his fingers against hers.” Elain’s agency in these interactions and this relationship is SO IMPORTANT! It is the difference between Az viewing Elain as a two-dimensional and unattainable figure and as a real person with wants and needs.
Wrong — it was so wrong. Azriel knows, just as well as Rhys, what is at stake in Elain’s relationship with Lucien. He also has reverence for the mating bond in the same way that many other fae and faeries do. Of course he thinks it’s wrong!
He didn’t care.
He needed to know what the skin of her neck tasted like. What those perfect lips tasted like. Her breasts. Her sex. He needed her coming on his tongue — There is literally so much talk in Feysand and Nessian of tasting and eating out. Both Rhys and Cassian make it very clear that they spent a lot of time thinking about what their partners would taste like and how they might go about finding out for sure.
Azriel’s cock strained behind his pants, aching so fiercely he could hardly think. He prayed she didn’t peer down. Prayed she didn’t understand the shift in his scent.
He had only allowed himself these thoughts in the dead of night. Because he knows it’s a fool’s hope. He never thinks about this as a viable path! Had only allowed his hand to fist his cock and think about her then, when even his shadows had gone to sleep again a recognition of the separation between him and his shadows. How that beautiful face might appear as he entered her, what sounds she’d make. See above: Nessian and Feysand are just as dirty and graphic (especially Nessian) and Rhys and Cassian are JUST AS WORSHIPFUL of their partners.
Elain bit her lower lip, and it took every ounce Azriel’s restraint to keep from putting his own teeth there.
“I should go,” Elain said, but made no move to leave. Again, they are BOTH cognizant, I think, of the risks and dynamics at play here.
“Yes,” he said, his thumb sweeping in long strokes along the side of her throat.
Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He’d beg on his knees for a chance to taste it Rhys’s WHOLE THING is that he kneels before Feyre in reverence. But Azriel just stroked her neck again. SJM repeatedly uses the scent of arousal as a way to confirm sexual interest beyond a shadow of a doubt.
Elain shuddered, drifting closer. So close one deep breath would brush her breasts against his chest. 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. I personally think this is Azriel being self-deprecating. I think that Elain is a seer, and probably has some idea of what Azriel does. Does this mean he puts her on a pedestal or that he views her as pure? It’s possible, but I think Azriel views most people whom he loves as pure compared to himself in one way or another— even Cassian. There is a line I’ll cite eventually where Rhys muses on the similarities between himself and Azriel, since Rhys is the only person Azriel allows to see the full scope of his rage. Ditto with the pedestal.
Such terrible things that it was a sacrilege same story as my point above on the word immaculate, but again I do totally admit that it’s a strange word. I just think that we have had so little of Azriel’s perspective that we can’t really say whether this is a perversion of his connection to Elain or if this is a regular sort of attitude for him for his fingers to touch her skin, tainting her with his presence.
But he could have this. This one moment, and maybe a taste, and that would be it. AND THAT WOULD BE IT. HE DOESN’T THINK IT WILL GO FURTHER!
“Yes,” Elain breathed, like she read the decision. You fucking go Elain get that ass Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother interesting choice of words given Nesta’s association with the Mother and Nesta’s apparent tacit acceptance of Azriel’s feelings for Elain (more on that later) might witness them.
Azriel’s hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain’s mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before flirting shut.
Offer and permission. OFFER AND PERMISSION. ELAIN WANTS THE SHADOWSINGER D!!!!!
He nearly groaned with relief and need as he lowered his head toward hers.
Azriel. And suddenly, the one time they both are comfortable with how they’re being seen (that Azriel is being seen by no one else BUT Elain, that Elain is finally being seen intimately, by someone, in the dark, namely, AZRIEL)
Rhys’s voice thundered through him, halting him mere inches from Elain’s sweet mouth.
Azriel. So if you were to ask me what the biggest sign of Elriel’s longevity in this chapter is, it is this: that they did not kiss. SJM built a very tightly worded and wound tension around this moment with her language, and.  the fact that it is not fulfilled is frustrating, right? We know that he touched the knob of her spine - we know that she shivered. For that level of intimacy not to end in a kiss, means something. Rhys could easily have interrupted them after their lips had already touched, and if this relationship were a device serving another, that’s what would have happened.
SJM knows that the tension is built and unfulfilled, and I think she also knows that this wouldn’t have been the right time for them to have their first kiss - which is what I think many readers have noticed in so many words. Where my thoughts differ is that I think SJM is walking a line between romantically coding the moment AND acknowledging that this moment is not ideal, and that it doesn’t deserve to be fulfilled satisfyingly, especially given Azriel’s self-loathing. MORE LATER :) Which should maybe be my catchphrase.
Also, them not kissing can’t just be about the fact that it’s a bonus chapter. You can’t make that argument about their not-kiss and then argue that the interaction with Gwyn is essential to the coming story. Which, I think it is significant, by the way, I’m just not sure how yet :P
Unrelenting command filled his name, and Azriel looked up. Rhysand stood atop the staircase. Glowering down at them.
My office. Now.
Rhys vanished, and Azriel was left standing before Elain, who still awaited his kiss. His stomach twisted as he pulled his hand away from her hair and stepped back. Forced himself to say, “This was a mistake.” UGH. The capital P Pain.
She opened her eyes, hurt and confusion warring there before she whispered, “I’m sorry.” See, this reaction makes me think that she is not as aware of his feelings as he thinks she is. That she later returns the necklace (or did she?) reinforces this. I think that if she was certain how he felt about her, she would be frustrated and maybe angry in the way that she has responded to Feyre’s comments about her mating bond with Lucien, not hurt and confused.
“You don’t — Don’t apologize,” he managed to say. “Never apologize. It’s I who should...”  He shook his head, unable to stand the bleakness he’d brought to her expression. “Goodnight.” But at least it definitely confirms her feelings to Azriel.
PART II IS BEING POSTED BACK-TO-BACK!
263 notes · View notes
readiajin · 3 years
Text
To Love Herself - Chapter 1: Appear
Synopsis: Following ACOSF until Nesta’s confrontation with Amren. Rather than going to hike and soul search with Cassian in the wild, Nesta uses her powers to disappear.
Hey! So I am going to write this fic. I have never posted anything I have written before so please let me know what you think or if you have any advice. Also let me know if you want to be tagged.
Tumblr media
Prologue: Disappear
Chapter 1: Appear
Do you plan on coming home soon Feyre darling? 
Feyre sent a huff of a laugh back at Rhys. Why? Does somebody miss me? 
Two somebodies actually, Rhys replied. Nyx wants to show you how he has improved his flying with Uncle Azriel today. 
Feyre smiled at the image of her son jumping off couches to fly around the room played in her mind. She currently sat in her studio, working on a painting of Nyx flying with his father. She planned on saving it for his eighth birthday present in a couple months.
Feyre glanced out the window, where the streets were only illuminated by starlight on the moonless night. She hadn’t realized how late it had become.
I’ll be home soon, I just have to clean up. 
Don’t keep me waiting too long, Rhys rumbled back. A shiver went down Feyre’s spine as she cut off the connection with her mate to concentrate on cleaning. 
She walked around the room, turning off most of the lights before going to the back to wash her brushes and pallet. As she stood at the sink, she suddenly felt a cold breeze at the back of her neck. 
Feyre froze. She raised her head to look at the paint-splattered mirror above the sinks. Through the smudged glass, she could see a dark cloaked figure standing behind her. 
Slowly, Feyre turned. “Who are you?” She demanded. “It’s not wise to sneak up on a High Lady.”
The figure stood perfectly still. As they stared at each other the temperature in the room seemed to drop. Finally, the figure tilted their head to the side slightly. “Well? What do you want?” 
An indignant huff came from beneath the cloak before reaching up to pull back the hood. 
Feyre’s mind went blank as she took in her sister, whom she hadn’t seen or heard from in over 8 years. 
“Hello Feyre.” That was all Nesta said. 
Feyre stared at her older sister. Not a day had gone by since that terrible day in Amren’s apartment that Feyre hadn’t thought of Nesta. Not a day she hadn’t wondered, worried. They had searched for her. Had even reached out to the other courts when they became desperate for answers. But there had been no trace of her since Cassian had seen her consumed by silver flames. 
Now standing before her, the first thing Feyre noticed was how healthy she looked. Nesta had slowly begun to look better after living in the House and training with Cassian for a few weeks. She had been gaining a little weight and some color back then. 
But stepping into the light cast from lanterns on the back counter, Nesta seemed to glow with health. Her hair was braided in its classic crown, but her face was full and tanned from being in the sun. Her eyes still held the same stormy intensity they always had, but the haunted look she had had was now replaced with a silver gleam. 
Although most of her body was covered in a dark cloak, Feyre could see she was wearing fighting leathers— not Illyarian leathers. And peaking out over her right shoulder was the pommel of a great sword. The Great Sword, the one she had accidentally Made. The sword that, along with the two other Made weapons, had been stolen from where they had been locked in the river house. The same night several priestesses disappeared from the Library as well.
That had been nearly a year after Nesta. They had all suspected Neata, as later it was found that the last time Emerie had been seen in Windhaven was that day. But they had never been sure. All that was left of the priestesses was a note to Clotho not to worry, that they had left by choice. 
“Nyx is growing up fast."
Nesta was still staring back at Feyre, but as she continued to blink at Nesta, Nesta nodded towards the painting on the easel. Her face was impassive as she said “He looks like he is a handful.” 
Nesta’s words caused Feyre to snap her mouth shut, which had been hanging open. “What? Nesta… where…how...why...” Silence filled the room as Feyre trailed off. Nesta continued to stand with that preternatural Fae stillness, but she seemed to be considering Feyre now. 
“I came here with a warning for you and your court”, Nesta finally said. 
Again, Feyre felt her mouth fall open as she stammered “Excuse me?”
Nesta let out a bored sigh as she moved to the cart next to Feyre’s easel and picked up a paintbrush to examine.
“I am sure you have many questions, but I only came here because there are some things you as the High Lady of the Night Court should know. There is a movement growing on the continent threatening Prynthia. I don’t believe the ruling powers of Montesere and Vallahan are involved, especially with the peace treaties you have established with them, but there may be some within those territories that support it. The majority of this group has been operating in the Wild Lands of the Faerie Realms on the continent. What I do know is that those involved with this movement believe there is a way to steal the power of Prynthia’s courts. They say the ruling High Fae power’s here come from a physical source in this land, and if found, they can take it for themselves.” Nesta twirled the paintbrush in her hand as she turned to face Feyre again. “This group has been trying to subtly infiltrate Prynthia’s courts, and we believe they have gained a source within the the Illyarians.” Nesta said all this deadpanned, returning to staring at Feyre with a blank face as she finished speaking. 
Feyre’s anger came hot and fast. “Are you kidding me Nesta? What are in the Cauldron are you talking about!” 
Nesta simply raised an eyebrow at Feyre’s outburst. “Which part of what I said was unclear? You and your court need to look into dissent among the Illyarians.” 
Feyre let out a disbelieving laugh, “It’s been 8 years, Nesta!” 
“Yes.”
“Eight years since you disappeared without a trace and now you come back and the first thing you tell me is this? With no explanation as to where you have been? What you have been doing? Seriously? That’s all you have to say after you ran away, never contacted your family, but apparently returned to steal weapons?” Feyre gestured to the sword on Nesta’s back. 
Nesta examined the paintbrush in her hand, but said cooly “Since I created the weapons, it wasn’t stealing.” She looked up to Feyre, eyes chips of ice. “The what and where I have been are a long story. I only came to warn you.”
Silence once again filled the dim room.
“Why should I believe you?” Feyre asked, defeated. 
It was Nesta’s turn to ask “What?”
“Why should I believe you,” Feyre repeated, “when you have done nothing to show that I can trust you?” 
Nesta’s infuriating nonchalantness finally slipped a little, and Feyre felt a flash of anger. However, her voice was calm as she responded. “For all our history Feyre, did I ever lie to you, or do anything to make you think I wished harm on you?”
Feyre opened her mouth to respond “no”, but stopped herself. Looking at the Nesta before her, she didn’t know who this person was. 
After a moment she said, “I don’t know.” 
It was quick, but Feyre saw something flash in Nesta’s stormy eyes before her face was once again a mask of cool indifference. 
“Okay then.” Nesta turned to return the paintbrush she still held to its proper place. “As I am sure the rest of your court will also need convincing, I can show you proof if you can meet me on the Obsidian Isles in the East Sea of the Night Court in two days. Noon, on the Northernmost island. 
Feyre was really tired of saying this, but “What?”
Nesta let out an annoyed sigh as she clasped her hands together in front of her and said plainly “Bring your mate and court and meet me in two days to prove to you all I told you was the truth. Is that acceptable to you?” 
Feyre nodded. 
“Good. See you in two days.” With that, Nesta turned on her heels and stalked to the door.
Yet Nesta paused with her hand on the doorknob. For the first time since being in the room, Nesta seemed to waiver. She didn’t move, staring straight at the door. 
“How is he?” She finally asked. It was barely audible, barely more than a whisper as if she was afraid to say it too loud. But it was the one thing Feyre didn’t need to ask what she meant. 
“He searched for you,” There was too much, and not enough to be said.
Nesta turned her head, hand still on the knob, not to look back at Feyre but to stare at the wall to her left. 
“He will come with you to the island.” Feyre couldn’t tell if that was a question or order. 
Either way, Feyre said “Yes.” Even though she didn’t know if he actually would. Feyre didn’t know how he would react to any of this. 
Nesta stood still for a second, before nodding and pushing open the door. She didn’t say another word as she pulled up her hood, stepped out, and vanished into the night. 
Feyre didn’t know how long she stood there, staring out the open door into the dark. It was only when she felt an invisible weight lift off her shoulders, that she realized that the entire time she had been talking to Nesta, she hadn’t been able to feel her bond with Rhys. 
(4/26/2021)
•••••
Thanks for being here :)
Tags:
@bluassassin
121 notes · View notes
emilia3546 · 3 years
Text
He Never Left Your Side - Nesta and Rhys
Nesta hasn't really spoken to Rhys since Nyx's birth, not for more than polite greetings anyway. But after attending a meeting about training the female Illyrians, they're stuck together with too much left unsaid.
*****
Nesta sighed as she stared out over the Illyrian mountains, enthralled by its rugged beauty, the raw untamed power in those jagged peaks, she almost forgot the male standing beside her, almost.
"You think it's beautiful," Rhys broke her concentration, and she held back the snappy response that would have allowed her to continue staring in silence,
"I've always been drawn the the wilder things in life," she said simply, let him take from that what he would, it was true in every sense, she'd never been the woman her mother had expected, not in her heart. But now, with the Valkyries, with Cassian, she was finally the person she was born to be, even if it was twenty five years too late.
"Thank you for coming today, I think we're getting there," Nesta wasn't so sure, the meeting had been a disaster, every Camp Lord had refused training to females, although, some had conceded permission for Nesta to run Valkyrie training, but no allowance would be made from camp chores and jobs. It was the first, very tiny, step, but a step nonetheless,
"Can't you just order them?"
"They'd disobey it, and I'd have to bring force in, I don't want a civil war, this is the only way, but with you showing that females can do it, we will get there, so thank you."
"I'll admit I never thought you'd say that to me of all people,"
"Will you hate me again if I say that I never expected to say it?"
"No. I'll mark you down as pragmatic though." Rhys laughed beside her, but Nesta couldn't tear her gaze from the view before her, "But you don't have to thank me, for anything, like it or not, you're my brother,"
"Still, I don't think I'll ever manage to thank you enough for saving Feyre's life,"
"She's my sister." Nesta did glance sideways at that, "And it was about time I returned the favor," she admitted, almost starting in surprise at the respect in Rhys' eyes, and the chuckle that left his lips,
"Don't tell her that. I'm glad that you found your own way to healing, and I'm sorry that it wasn't me who helped you, I was blinded by my anger over the past, it was wrong of me, and, well, you remind me of myself in some ways, I'm not altogether sure that's a good thing."
"That's a good thing."
"But, you are my sister, and I know we can't rebuild something that was never there, but I would like to really know you, I want you to be a part of the family. I owe you everything, and it shouldn't have taken me this long to give you a chance."
"You owe me nothing."
"Agree to disagree," Nesta offered him a small smile at that, the first time they'd truly agreed to anything, and stared back out at the mountains,
"I didn't believe Feyre when she said I'd like you, and I was right, but I hated you because you were what I could have been, with the right people, but I never truly hated you I don't think, I always respected you, somewhat grudgingly, but I did, mostly for your judgement of me, many males would have simply let me do what I was doing, left it to Feyre to try and reach me, you didn't go about it the best way, mind you, but the idea was what I needed. Maybe it was for her benefit at the time, but I doubt that's true now,"
"No, it's not, believe it or not, I like you, Nesta, I didn't like the Nesta who returned after the war, but I should have recognized that you were hurting and needed support, I'm glad you were able to find it." Nesta smiled,
"I do have a bone to pick with you, though,"
"Oh yeah?"
"You gave Cass baby fever."
"I do apologize," he laughed, "Are you sure you can't hold him off?"
"Oh I can hold him off, he won't insist, but still, it's all your fault," she teased, finally relaxing, her attention no longer zeroed in on Rhys, but their surroundings, as it usually was. The companionable silence surrounding them still surprised her, were it anyone else, she'd have expected incessant talking, but it seemed that he understood, they had said what they needed to right now, it was just about learning to trust one another, to find the family bonds that they had neglected.
It was this silence that alerted her to a slight sound, a sound she assumed was Rhys moving from where she couldn't see him, but the silence made her look round, not even the birds were singing any more, a flash of movement drew her attention. She moved on instinct, not knowing what the movement was, but a sense of danger overwhelmed her as she stepped into its path, shoving Rhys aside. As it crashed into her, she identified one of the Illyrians from the meeting, a Camp Lord's son, bringing up her hand to slam her fist into his face, his nose crumpling under her fist as he stumbled backwards.
"Oh gods, Nesta,"
"What?" It was only when she stepped away from the unconscious male that she noticed the crimson drops of blood on the stone, except the blood from his nose hadn't fallen. She glanced down, her hands automatically pressing into her side at the sight of the dagger buried to the hilt just below her ribs. It hardly occurred to her that she'd saved Rhys' life, again, with the blade's trajectory aiming to sever his spinal cord had she not intervened. Horror was written across his features as her vision fractured from the pain radiating from the wound, and he stepped back to support her as she stumbled, "Now you owe me," she laughed, and winced at the pain such a movement caused.
"Hang on, I'll fix this, I will, I've just got to get us home first, okay?"
"Mmhm," Nesta mumbled, her vision failing completely as blood rushed past her fingers, staining the cliffs red as they vanished, reappearing in one of the River House's guest bedrooms. Nesta didn't register Rhys setting her down in the bed, didn't register when the door flew open and Feyre rushed in, gasping in horror at the sight of her sister.
"Could you go and fetch Cass, it'd be better to tell him face to face,"
"Okay yeah, what happened?"
"She saved my life."
Nesta did register the dagger being withdrawn, and the paint that redoubled afterwards, but a quiet tap against her mental shields encouraged her to lower them, she sensed no danger from that presence, and the pain vanished, allowing her to slip into a blissful state of unconsciousness. She didn't wake when Cassian arrived moments later, all but begging Rhys to heal her. She didn't wake when the sides of the wound closed, blood vessels realigning, skin sealing back together at Rhys' command. She didn't wake when Rhys explained what she'd done, without even thinking about it. She didn't wake when Cassian kissed her brow, when he demanded to see the male who'd hurt her. She didn't wake when Rhys admitted to having left him behind, or when Cassian checked over her again, making sure that she was really okay before leaving to find Azriel to catch the male who'd attacked them.
She did wake when her stomach demanded the dinner she'd missed, finding Rhys still sitting beside her,
"Don't get up, it was quite deep, it might not be fully healed yet, when I heal with my magic it can take a bit of time if it's a serious injury, just take your time, do you need anything?"
"Honestly, food, and a glass of water," Rhys smiled at that,
"You're okay then, so long as anyone who's been injured is asking for food, that tends to mean they're okay really, hang on, I'll be right back." Nesta closed her eyes again, only opening them when Feyre's voice sounded through her sleep,
"Nesta? You said you were hungry?"
"Thank you," he stomach growled again at the scent of the simple broth, and she slowly sat up, the pain reduced to a dull ache as she moved, pausing at the sight of Rhys beside her, sprawled in a chair beside her bed, his head leaning back against a precariously balanced cushion.
"He hasn't left your side," Feyre said, handing Nesta the tray of food, "He insisted on healing you himself, it tires him, his magic is not really designed for healing, but he wanted to do it," Nesta smiled to herself, he was a better male than she'd ever given him credit for, and she was proud to call him her brother. From Feyre's smile, she must have said it out loud, and she nodded, she meant it, it was about time they found the love that they'd been missing all their lives.
tags:  @teagoddess99 @brenda5601 @azrielsdarling13 @1helena @shisingh @valkygwyn @soffiiione @toolazymyguy @awesomelena555 @trashforazriel @dealingdifferentdevils @ximena-inlovewithazwyn @almosttenaciousmoon @aightimmaheadoutsblog @alexoik @selfdestructionfetish
52 notes · View notes
mmvalentine · 3 years
Text
Under your hands | Feysand
Your official smut warning. Canon compliant.
Rhys was barely through the door before he dropped his weapons on the floor. Feyre, sitting on the bed, looked over in distaste.
"You know we have an entire weapons room for that, right?" she said.
Rhys just groaned, and peeled his Illyrian leathers off, shucking them to the floor with the weapons. He walked over, kissed her roughly, then headed straight for the bath. Feyre chuckled. Rhys hated to be filthy. He was worse than Mor.
Twenty minutes later, clean and smooth and hot from the bath, Rhys thumped heavily onto the mattress next to Feyre. He was naked, and lay on his front with his head turned toward her but his eyes closed. She laid her book to the side with a chuckle, and smoothed a blue-black curl away from his forehead.
"Tough day?" she asked. "So much training. Too old for this," Rhys got out. Feyre laughed again. "My poor Illyrian baby," she crooned. Rhys frowned without opening his eyes. "Cruel thing," he said. "You don't know what I've had to endure." "Oh I've been trained by Azriel too," she reminded him. "Then you'll know that better men than I have left his arena in much the same state." He moved his head to press a kiss to Feyre's knee where she sat next to him, and then winced at the movement.
Feyre laughed again, and moved her hand to massage his trap muscle. Rhys sighed contentedly, and shuffled closer so he could nuzzle her knee with his nose. She really did feel bad for him- she of anyone knew what it felt like to have your shoulders and entire back screaming out, only to find themselves at the mercy of the Shadowsinger. So she got up and sat herself over Rhys's backside, and put her hands on his aching muscles.
At first, she just stroked and soothed, trying to get him to relax a little. Then, as he became pliant beneath her, she slowly increased the pressure to work the knots out. Rhys groaned under her, pain wrinkling his golden face. But she knew it would mean he was less sore tomorrow, so she pressed on despite his complaints, and eventually the tight muscles yielded to her.
Feyre worked Rhys' shoulders, his lats, and all the muscles through his lower back. It took nearly an hour, but it was such a pleasure to be touching his skin all over. Besides, he had done the same for her on several occasions.
Slowly, Rhys' breathing deepened as his muscles relaxed. She was able to ease back, now that the worst of it was sorted, and Rhys lay peacefully and quietly. But instead of rolling off him when she was done, she continued to stroke broad strokes over the satin of him. Up between his shoulder blades, down the sides of his spine. Her hands roved all over, she could do this all night long. Through his thick, black hair. Down the velvet planes of his wings.
At the last, Rhys let out a long, low moan. A smile twitched over Feyre's lips. She loved the sounds she could pull from him. She sat up a little higher, and moved her hands in the same big, sweeping circle. Up through his shoulder blades, then down across his wings. This time, Rhys shivered a little.
Now, after she came up his spine, Feyre smoothed her hands back down to knead the joint where his wings came out of his back. Rhys arched up into her touch with a hiss.
"Fuck that's good," he said through clenched teeth. Feyre grinned her satisfaction, and rubbed up his spine again.
This time, she let her nails scratch lightly as she traced the frame of his wings. And then instead of coming back up through the centre, she flipped her hands around and let her fingers trail up under the inside of the membranous surface.
The snarl that rolled from Rhys' chest vibrated through the room.
Feyre's heart sped up at the feeling of it, even as she felt under the wing for that small pleasure spot on the inside. And rubbed her fingers hard against it. Rhys let out a shuddering moan, and the muscles in his shoulders clenched and unclenched. Feyre moved her fingers again.
Next thing she knew, Rhys had flipped them over so she was on her back and he had trapped her wrists above her head. His heavy, muscled frame lay over her so that every inch of her below the neck was pressed down under him. Feyre was not at all surprised to feel him hard against her.
But she fought the urge to rub against him, even as the pooling heat in her begged for friction. No, there was a much better game at stake here.
"Ah-ah," Feyre chided. "You have to let me finish fixing you before we play." Rhys raised an eyebrow. "You seemed pretty done to me," he commented. "Done with your back, sure. But I want to work on your chest and pecs a little." "Okay." Rhys rolled his hips against her, and she had to fight the shudder down. "After."
But Feyre fixed a stern gaze on him. Difficult to pull off, since his face was inches from hers, and his hands still pinned hers to the bed.
"Let me finish."
Rhys growled deeply, but rolled off her and onto this back. His eyes tracked her as she moved up to straddle him once more. But this time, facing each other. The flimsy cotton of her underwear chafed over his very hard cock.
"Cruel, wicked creature," he frowned. But Feyre admonished him with a quick "shh" and then began her ministrations again. This time, she pressed her hands up and over his chest. The solid tan muscle, and swirling black tattoos beneath her fingers were so beautiful, she almost gave up right then. But then she ran her hands down the ridges of his torso, and the way his eyes rolled and closed reminded her that there was more fun to be had, first.
In all seriousness, Rhys was sore and tight over his chest. Feyre genuinely worked his pecs, lats and abs. But in order to reach the whole breadth of him, she had to rise up a little. And then as she moved her hands over his hard stomach, she sat down again. Back all the way up, then sitting and dragging down. The effect was that she was moving her core methodically up and down his erection as she worked.
Rhys, already tense, had slid his hands up her thighs, and was now gripping her just above the knees very tightly. She moved up, and then back down again, and his hips bucked up into hers involuntarily. He snarled.
"Something wrong, my love?" Feyre asked innocently. Despite himself, Rhys smirked. "I know what you're doing, Feyre darling."
Feyre repeated her motion, and relished the feeling of his hardness twitching under her. "I'm just trying to make you feel better," she said. "I think this would make me feel better," Rhys retorted, and with a thought her underwear vanished from her.
Feyre frowned her disapproval. "Now now," she tutted. "I said no playing until I'm done." And with that, she continued her up and down movements. Right over his bare cock.
A loud moan tore from Rhys' throat, and his hips flexed up into her. His hands slid further up her thighs, and his back arched up off the bed.
"I take it back," he panted. "This is much worse." Feyre laughed, well aware of the fact, even as she bit back her own moan. Now that she was bare, her clit was gliding along him every time she moved.
She made it through three more cycles of the motions over his chest- and up and down his erection- before Rhys snapped. It was a slight miscalculation on her part, that meant that instead of sliding down the length of him, the tip of him pushed at her entrance. Rhys didn't miss a beat. Worked up past all self-restraint, he grabbed her hips and plunged himself up into her.
Feyre cried out and fell forward, bracing her hands on his chest. But Rhys was relentless, slamming into her again and again like he had tunnel vision. Feyre's heart sped up until it was roaring in her ears, and the world narrowed to the constant, unbroken rhythm of Rhys pounding into her.
The fact that she could to this to him, she could make him lose control like this, turned her on even more. Rhys raw and unleashed, like he never ever was around anyone else, was like a drug that hit her bloodstream hard. And when let go of one of her hips to press a thumb to her clit, it was seconds before she climaxed on top of him.
Through the fog of her orgasm, Feyre barely registered Rhys rolling them over so he was on top of her.
"All fixed," he murmured in her ear. He continued thrusting into her, but slowly now. All the way out and all the way in. Feyre had barely come back from her first release, when the tightness in her abdomen started building all over again. She moaned, and Rhys sped up a little at the sound of it.
"Just like this?" he asked her. His hands slid under her and squeezed handfuls of her ass. She moaned again in response. He smiled a feline smile over her. "Yeah?" He sped up a little more. "Gods, yes," Feyre ground out.
Rhys sat upright and dragged her hips upward, getting a deeper angle on her. He put his fingers in her mouth, then moved them to her clit again and pushed small circles into her. Before she saw it coming, her second climax hit.
"Shit," Rhys barked, dropping back down. His hands landed either side of her head, and his movements became desperate. Feyre reached up and dragged her hands over his wings and into the sensitive underside, sending Rhys right over the edge with a yell.
For minutes after, Rhys lay with his head on Feyre's chest and her legs still wrapped around his waist. She stroked his hair, and massaged her fingers into his scalp.
"Feeling better?" she whispered. He smacked her backside lightly. "Very much," he said, and the grin in his voice made her heart glow.
****
MASTERLIST
145 notes · View notes
mardereads19 · 3 years
Text
Elriel Month 🌸🦇
Day 25:
Tumblr media
Continuation of Day 8: Invisible String.
Cassian followed Elain as she circled in silent feet the camp along the shore of Koschei’s lake. They kept hidden behind the trees, but shadows surrounded both of them, blocking out any other noise that might escape by mistake while also keeping them out of sight.
Earlier today, when Elain had exited the tent after her vision, and had done as the shadow had bade her to do —follow— Elain discovered that there was more than one of them waiting for her. Shadows began to appear without notice, and Elain could not tell if they were Azriel’s shadows escaping from wherever Koschei was holding them captive or if they were new shadows coming over to help her. What she did know, however, was that she could communicate with them, and that they followed her lead.
Azriel, one of them whispered in her ear and Elain came to a stop, crouching low to look over a fallen tree trunk at the conglomeration of tents.
Cassian’s brows had been furrowed in grim determination and fury ever since Amren had confirmed there had been fear in Azriel’s tent, but now he scanned the dark glade, lifting an eyebrow. “Koschei has gathered forces since we last saw him.”
The Inner Circle had barely wasted an hour back at their glade to come up with a plan to rescue Azriel. They had expected a few other males to fight aside the death-lord, but this many soldiers? It was riskier than any of them had anticipated. It also did not help at all that it was the dead of night with no moon to help them see. There were only a few lamps every several feet and a bonfire by the center of this camp.
“Shit,” Cassian whispered, a slight quiver in his voice. Elain looked at him and by his expression she gathered that it was fear that had made his voice shake. Elain’s shoulder sagged. What could possibly make a determined Cassian blanch in fear? He swallowed and pointed ahead. Elain glanced to where he was pointing expecting the worst, but she saw nothing urgent. Only a flag she did not know waving in the soft breeze in a quiet tent. “Rask.”
Elain understood, then. One of the three countries they had feared could join with Hybern during the war was already allied with Koschei. It would be a matter of time before the other two also joined in.
“This must only be a small fraction of its army,” Cassian murmured, shaking his head. “Shit.”
Elain dispelled the worry that entered her mind at the new knowledge and instead focused on the task at hand. Azriel. There would be time to worry after he was safely in her arms.
When Elain had been in Hybern and her sister and shadowsinger had come to save her, Feyre had been able to shift into that priestess that she had known well. But neither Cassian nor Elain could shift and neither of them knew anyone here to use as leverage. Going in and out of this camp was a work meant for stealth. Meant for spies.
Meant for shadows.
I have need of you, she whispered to her friends. The ones surrounding her stilled, listening. She relaid her plan to them, wondering if the shadows would approve —if Azriel would approve— but they made no comment before Elain observed as a few of them slipped away and into the camp, staying close to the ground and hidden in the darkness.
Cassian stopped looking at the Rask flag and glanced between the retreating shadows and Elain. She knew he had questions, just like the rest of the inner circle had. None had said them out loud, but the time would come for them to do so. What would Elain answer? She didn’t know how she had gained the power to understand the shadows. The only thing she did know was that she was the only one who could help Azriel and that the shadows had sensed this. They had winnowed her and Cassian here.
Other than that, she was just as confused as her friends and family were.
A few murmurs made their way over to them, the conversation not quite discernible, but she strained to hear it. Two males, by the sound of it. She heard their steps —twigs snapping under the soles of their boots— and the sound of a heartbeat began to register in her mind.
She turned to Cassian. “Can you hear those males speaking?”
He frowned, tilting his head. “I don’t pick up anything.” He blinked at her, eyes contemplative. “Can you?”
Elain nodded. It was her hearing then, it was sharpening like it did almost every night. Those males must be on the other side of the camp if Cassian could not hear them. Other soft noises began to become clear for her —snoring, pacing, tossing and turning.
The heartbeat.
Her own heart responded to that one heartbeat.
She focused on that, trying to remember Nuala and Cerridwen’s instructions on how to concentrate on a sound and fade the others into the background. It was difficult and Elain hadn’t practiced much, since she had those ear plugs to block out noice back at the river house.
Movement caught her eye, and Elain saw a shadow approach them.
Follow, it whispered.
And Elain meant to do so as her surroundings went black.
***
Azriel had been left chained to the roof of the tent, a sturdy pole holding the structure to ensure he couldn’t collapse the whole thing.
Except, he couldn’t even try. Whatever hold of Azriel Koschei had seized remained. He could not move, could not speak. The only thing he could do was breathe and blink. He felt as useless as he had when he had been locked in that gods forsaken cell.
He wasn’t alone here either. His shadows had been left with him, but he had noticed how some had vanished. Azriel could not tell whether they were doing it out of their own free will or if Koschei was commanding them through his control over Azriel.
If the shadows were leaving out of their own free will, what did that mean? Azriel had seen them do things without his approval lately. They would follow Elain, or bring her flowers, or guard her door. They had begun acting without directions. But did that mean that they’d abandon him now at last?
Azriel pushed the worry away.
***
“Is this where they are keeping Azriel?” Cassian asked as he followed after Elain. His wings shifted, as if it were difficult to hold back the urge to burst into the sky and take a better look at the camp. But the sound of wings flapping would give them away.
They both followed the instructions the shadows gave her. Sometimes they commanded them to stop, telling Elain a soldier was turning a corner, and sometimes they changed directions entirely to avoid colliding with anyone. Elain listened to them and did as was told, the shadows blocking out the sounds of their steps, even though Elain applied every lesson by Azriel and her friends to her every move.
“Not exactly,” she answered Cassian as they neared a big white tent. Elain could hear Azriel’s heart beating a steady rhythm, but it was fading behind her instead of getting louder. She hoped she was not making a mistake in trusting her instinct and the vision she had just seen.
A box of black stone. She had seen that before. This time, she had seen where it was.
This tent.
Two males stood guarding the entry and the shadows stopped Elain and Cassian some feet away, hidden behind another smaller tent —snores coming from within.
“What do you mean not exactly?”
Elain ignored the slight angry tone with which Cassian spoke. “I just need to get something first.” He grumbled and she turned around. “Just— Trust me. Please.”
Cassian’s eyes softened and he nodded, but Elain saw his hesitancy. She understood. She also wondered whether she was losing precious time.
***
Azriel kept pushing against the leash that controlled him. Slamming his hands against the wall that now held him captive in his own mind. But it was powerful, ancient magic and he could not break free. He wasn’t sure if even Rhysand’s powers could find a way around this mind control. Could Helion break this wall?
His shadows slithered around the ground, but none lifted up to his ear, none spoke to him. Where they quiet because of Koschei or in spite of Koschei? Azriel didn’t want to find out if Koschei could hear everything Azriel listened to. If the shadows revealed anything about his family’s knowledge...
He was losing his mind in this silence. The only thing that surrounded him was darkness with the exception of the thin line of light that came in through the tiny gap between flaps of the tent.
It was like being back in his cell, except worse.
He didn’t know where Elain was or if she was safe.
Had Koschei ordered more of his lackeys to go back for her? To apprehend her and his family, his friends?
My boss knows who you are. And now, he knows what makes you weak, too.
Azriel had done this, it had been his fault, because he could not control his emotions, he could not see Elain was playing a part. He had showed his hand, he had revealed their plan. He deserved to be held captive. He deserved to be abused this way, because it had been his—
The tent’s flap opened and a shadow gazed into the room before leaving again.
Strange. But not strange at all. Koschei was using his shadows then, spying on Azriel through his own shadows. Using them for whatever reason.
The ones that were still in the tent filtered out after the one that visited and Azriel’s heart began to thunder against his chest. Now he was truly alone. Alone in this darkness. And Elain?
He had been taken away from the light once more.
The flap moved again and Azriel prepared to meet koschei. To suffer whatever torture he would implement to Azriel by making him do his bidding.
But the scent that hit him was known to him, familiar and lovely and it woke up his most visceral impulses. To protect, to guard, to touch, to kiss, to—
Elain hurried over to him, a sob coming out of her mouth. A pair of wings with a talon at their apexes almost cut the tent’s material overhead, and Cassian cursed under his breath, his eyes shining with relief.
Something in him lit up with curiosity, watching.
Azriel’s heart was a drum as Elain lifted her hands to his face, her thumb brushing his cheek.
“Azriel.” Her voice was a melody in his ear, a caress against that wall around his mind.
Azriel felt a tear slip down his cheek as he took in her beautiful face, her warm brown eyes, glowing with tears of her own. Her lips twisted up slightly.
Her gaze dropped to his torso, exactly where he had been stabbed. She frowned as she touched the fixed skin, but her shoulders relaxed. She met his eyes again.
“Are you hurt?” She removed the gag from his mouth, but he could not move. Could not speak the words that were in his heart.
You came for me.
But she saw it in his eyes and she dipped her chin in a small nod. Cassian stared as she lifted herself on her tiptoes and kissed Azriel’s lips, with enough pressure to reassure herself and him that they were both here, that it was real.
His light had come for him.
But he couldn’t kiss her back.
Cassian cleared his throat, his expression full of confusion and shock. “We should hurry.” Red flared from his Siphons.
Elain stepped away and began inspecting his chains. Azriel was trying his best to break free from Koschei’s hold on him, but he could not move. Cassian noticed.
“Shit,” Cassian said, approaching Azriel and waving a hand before his eyes. “Koschei has a hold on him.”
Elain stepped before Azriel again, cupping his face. “Azriel, can you hear me?” He beat and beat against the wall, roaring her name over and over, but he could do nothing but watch her as her shoulders stiffened in anger. She went back to working on the chains. “We’re going to get you out of here, Azriel. Don’t worry.”
Cassian shook his head, pain distorting his face. “If we take him like this, he’ll stay this way.”
Elain whirled on him. “I am not leaving him here!”
“Of course not,” Cassian said fiercely. “But we have to find a way to break Koschei’s control over him.”
Shadows burst into the tent, every one of them twirling with a sense of urgency. Azriel heard their warning just as Koschei stepped into the tent, a cruel smile on his face.
“How do you plan to do that?”
71 notes · View notes