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roselensedeyes · 6 months

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Be still, my foolish heart - part one

Pairing: elriel, elain x azriel

Word Count: 11.1k

CW: child abuse

NSWF: yes

Hello everyone!

I'm sharing part one of my newest fic. I don't know when part two will come out, probably at some time next week. I'm also working on a 7-chapter fic for Azriel's week. I'm super excited about that one because I started it months ago and I'm now fixing it so it fits with the prompts. You can also find it on AO3 here. Enjoy! Here's the link for Part two.

She’d almost asked Rhys or Mor to winnow her to the camp, the weight of the muffins and pies too heavy, but they didn’t know about her frequent visits to the remote location– none of her family did– and she really, really didn’t want to answer the questions that would surely arise.

It wasn’t that she meant to keep it a secret forever. But this was her thing, that gave her a purpose she’d never had before, not even when she started gardening as a child, or when she picked up baking with Nuala and Cerridwen all those months ago. She wanted to keep it for herself for a while, just a bit longer.

So Elain told Cassian she was going to a house to help its owner with this overgrown ivy that gave no sign of going away anytime soon, secretly getting into a carriage that would take her to her destination.

“Good morning, Mr. Garth,” Elain called out to the driver. The man– male, she reminded herself– slightly turned his head her way in greeting, the white and gray in his hair noticeable in this light. Garth smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkling.

“Good morning to you, too, Miss Elain,” he said cheerfully. Then he took notice of the baked goods she was carrying. “By the Cauldron, Miss, if you’d told me you were bringing stuff with you I’d have picked you up near your house,” he exclaimed.

“No,” Elain hastily said, causing Garth’s eyebrows to shoot up his forehead. She hurried to clarify, “I just meant, there was no need. A little exercise is good for me, or at least that’s what my older sister says.”

The older man chuckled. “That’s what my mate says, too.”

Elain’s stomach churned at the word, but waved it off with a humming sound.

Soon, they reached her destination. The magical scenery of Velaris faded to harsh weather, the snow thick as it fell and covered the ground. Her heart squeezed at the sight, her blood screaming at her to hurry.

She’d already opened her door by the time the carriage came to a stop, quickly gathering the pies and muffins before setting off to the small building, not before leaving a few coins to Garth, to his never-ending protests.

Elain struggled to open the heavy wooden doors while making sure the food wouldn’t fall. She had just made the decision to knock and pray someone would hear, when someone opened it for her.

She looked up to see Carys’ bright, sweet smile flashing at her. Elain couldn’t help her own as she looked at her friend. “Thank you,” she said.

“Don’t worry, El,” Carys replied. “I see you made good on your promise,” she pointed at what she was carrying.

Elain nodded. “Yes. I feared the children would send me away if I came empty handed,” she whispered, eyes gleaming with joy.

Carys laughed with her, and together they walked to the dining room, where she knew the kids were awaiting breakfast.

Elain had first heard of the orphanage when she was assisting an elderly lady with her garden. The female had invited her in for tea and told her all about her granddaughter who was volunteering at an orphanage slightly outside the city. She’d explained about the high number of children who had lost their parents in the war and had no other family that could take them in. Elain had left with a tears-stricken face and her heart shattered in a million little pieces. Two weeks later, she’d met with the female’s granddaughter, Carys.

Carys had welcomed her, showing her the place and introducing her to the little ones. Elain had almost started crying as she met them, but she was quick to bat her tear away, Carys’ instructions sounding loud and clear in her head. Never let them see you cry. All they need is a feeling of normalcy. Tears are often associated with the loss they suffered.

Five months later, Elain was now a volunteer, too. She came by at least three times a week, four if she managed it. She helped feed them, bathe them; she played with them and brought them on walks. The kids adored her, almost as much as she did them.

As she stepped into the room, several heads turned to her. So many, too many babies didn’t have a place to call home. Her heart constricted in her chest at the thought. Elain knew most of them would never find their forever home, would grow up in this place until they reached maturity. She only hoped that by that time, the kindness and affection the volunteers had shown them during their childhood, would shape them into good people.

“Miss Elain!” Many cried out, launching themselves at her and Carys. The two young females hugged them all as best as they could, but soon the children noticed what they were carrying. Gasps filled the room.

“Pies! You remembered, Miss Elain” A little girl exclaimed excitedly. Elain smiled back at her and nodded.

As soon as the pies and muffins were placed on a few tables, Elain and Carys were immediately forgotten. They watched in amusement as the kids all but flung themselves at the baked goods, devouring everything. It was a good thing Elain had already cut the cakes in slices.

Carys went to help the smaller children, who were on the verge of crying their lungs out at the thought of not getting something, too. Elain was about to follow her, when something in the corner of her eye caught her attention.

Under one of the unused tables, a little boy crouched. His little legs were bunched up to his chest, his eyes red and terrified. His wings were tucked in tight, as though he feared brushing them against any surface.

His eyes locked on hers as Elain slowly walked to him. His hazel eyes widened even more. He began scooting backward when he saw her approaching. She stopped dead in her tracks a few feet away from him, and raised her hands in a placating manner.

“It’s alright,” Elain soothed. “I only wanted to say hi to you.”

The child didn’t say anything in return.

“My name is Elain,” she greeted him, uncaring of his silence. It wasn’t the first time a small one refused to speak. This one couldn’t be older than four. Elain wondered if he even knew how to speak. “Do you want me to bring a muffin? Or would you rather a slice of apple pie? We even have a blueberry one, if you prefer.”

He looked at her hesitantly. She smiled, trying to reassure him there were no wrong answers. After a few minutes of unblinking staring, he gave a single nod.

“That’s great! I’ll bring you each of everything. Or do you want to be with your friends?” He shook his head vigorously, like the thought terrified him. Elain smiled at him in answer.

When she returned less than two minutes later, the boy was still in the same position. Elain carefully sat down on the floor, handing him the food. He reached out just as carefully. He seemed to study which one he wanted to eat first, weighing the choice in his head.

It was then that she noticed it. His wings had scars on them. Elain swallowed, willing her face to remain the same, yet a noise escaped her. His little head jerked up and he noticed what she was looking at. He tried to tuck in his wings even more, pain flashing across his features. Her heart began bleeding.

“Can you tell me your name? I need to give this beautiful face a name,” she asked him, her voice tremulous.

He didn’t say anything for so long that Elain believed he didn’t want to share this information with her. She opened her mouth, but a quiet, young voice stopped her. “Uri.”

“That’s such a beautiful name. Thank you for telling me,” Elain said, her hands shaking. The corner of the boy’s mouth quirked up at her words. “How old are you, Uri?”

He looked at his hands, then held up four fingers. “Wow, you’re such a big boy!”

This time, his smile was wide, bright. It took all the control she’d mastered over the years to hold the tears in.

They spent hours crouched under the table, conversing quietly, away from prying eyes. Well, it was mainly Elain who spoke. She told him about her sisters, her parents and her new family. She told him all about gardening and baking, of how her friends, Nuala and Cerridwen, had helped her when she was sad. He retreated into himself when she asked about his family or his past. The blood in her veins went ice cold as millions of possibilities ran through her mind. So she talked about herself, making him laugh and gasp and smile. At some point, Uri began rubbing his tired eyes, stopping mid sentence to yawn.

Elain opened her arms. “Do you feel sleepy, sweet boy?”

He nodded.

“Do you want me to tuck you in?”

He seemed to hesitate, before slowly crawling into her warm embrace. Elain hugged him to her, mindful of his damaged wings. She got up with his arms tightly hugging her neck. She felt him tense as they walked past two male volunteers. They smiled at him, and Uri began shaking slightly. Elain tightened her hold on him and made it to the bedroom.

She gently laid him under the covers, caressing his hair and landing a kiss on his forehead. She smiled when she saw his cheeks coloring. “Have a nice nap, Uri.”

His hand shot out from under the covers to grab her wrist. Elain’s eyebrows rose high on her forehead. “What’s wrong, sweet boy?”

He mumbled something. “I’m sorry, Uri, I didn’t get that.”

Uri took a deep breath, like it was an effort to get the words out. “Stay. Don’t go,” his voice was quiet, but steady. Elain’s heart puffed up before squeezing tight. She sat down on the tiny bed, his hand still on her wrist.

“That’s fine. Do you want me to tell you a story?” She asked him as she stroked his cheeks.

He nodded, nuzzling her hand. So Elain began narrating to him a story her father used to tell her when she was a child, when nightmares wouldn’t allow her any sleep. It was a tale of hope, of love, of friendship.

Uri fell asleep quickly, his hand still touching her. The sight warmed her soul, and it was painful to pry it and gently lay it on the bed.

She silently closed the door behind her and went in search of Carys. The black haired female was playing with some of the older kids when Elain tapped her on the shoulder. Her smile slid off her face as she noticed Elain’s pale face. “What happened?” She asked, alarmed.

“What do you know of Uri?”

Carys furrowed her brows. “Uri?” Her eyes cleared with understanding a few seconds later. “Oh, you’re talking about the Illyrian boy.” She shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t know much. We found him hiding beneath a tree a couple days ago. He was blue from the cold, we thought he was… Anyway, he hasn’t said much since we brought him here.”

Elain could feel new tears threatening to spill. “We need to do something about his wings,” she stated, as though she would allow no alternative.

Carys nodded. “The Illyrians aren’t forthcoming with their help. I was thinking about sending a letter to the High Lord, hoping he’d see it and provide us help soon.”

Elain shook her head no. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of this, I know who to call.”

When she left hours later, her body heavy with stricken worry, she instructed Garth to take her to a different address from the usual one. He gave her a curious look, but didn’t comment on it.

The cobblestone was slippery outside, the weather bleak like Elain was feeling. A cold wind gave her skin bumps, and she wrapped her cloak tighter around herself. She knocked on the door, then knocked again, this time louder, when no one answered. “Open up. I know you’re in here.”

Silence, before she heard light steps from the other side of the door, which opened a few instants later.

Azriel’s hair was ruffled, the shirt he had on wrinkled. His hazel eyes, so alike Cassian’s, so alike Uri’s, were red from sleep. His posture, though, was stiff, giving away his unease at having her at his house.

Elain had discovered it by accident, and Az had made her swear she wouldn’t reveal it to their family. She’d nodded, pleased at knowing one of his secrets when he knew so many about all of them.

“What’s wrong?” He asked her, worry clouding his features.

“What does it mean when an Illyrian’s wings have scars on them? Is it normal for them to hurt?”

Azriel’s eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

“If an Illyrian has scars in his wings, is it normal that–” she repeated, but Azriel interrupted her.

“Where is this coming from? Whose wings are scarred? Did something happen to Rhys or Cass?”

She quickly shook her head. “No, no. They’re fine. It’s…”

When Elain had made the decision to come here, she’d understood she would have to share this part of her life with at least someone else. Her comfort couldn’t come before a child’s health and safety. So she took a deep breath, and told Azriel everything.

He listened carefully to what she had to say. He always had, as though her words were his new law, forbidding him from deviating from them. Az had always made her feel sacred, important, strong. She spent her night wondering what had changed, when it did. She hadn’t found the answer yet, her tear-stained pillows proof of it.

Az ran a hand on his face when she finished speaking. “What happened to him?”

Elain sighed sadly. “I don’t know. He refuses to talk about his past. It took me hours to get him to tell me where he comes from.” She told him Uri’s camp’s name, and saw him clench his hands into tight fists.

“I need to see him, so I can tell the healer what he needs,” Azriel explained.

She bit her lip. “I don’t know that that’s possible. I think… I think a male figure in his life hurt him badly. Might be the reason why his wings look like that.” She recounted his reaction to the two males. Azriel nodded his agreement.

“Here’s what you need to do.”

The next day, Carys was surprised to see Elain back so soon. The latter explained what she planned to do. Carys let her go with a promise of calling for her if anything went wrong.

Uri was still in bed. He was sleeping, his face contorting in pain and anguish. Elain knew at once he was having a nightmare. Silently, she reached his tiny bed, the blue covers stained with tears. “Uri, wake up,” she whispered softly, not wanting to startle him. He didn’t wake. Ever so gently, Elain ran her knuckles on his cheek, all the while murmuring his name.

Slowly, Uri opened his eyes. Terror lined his features, and a sob escaped him. Elain kept caressing him, whispering words of comfort as he came to. He blinked, his eyes not as vacant and bleak as a few moments before, and finally noticed her. His cheeks reddened slightly. Elain watched as Uri tried to burrow himself even further under the covers. She smiled and giggled. “Hello, sweet boy. Do you want to give me a hug?”

He seemed to hesitate, looking at her in what she almost called self consciousness, but he crawled out from under the sheets and onto her laps, like he had done the previous day. Elain rubbed his back where she didn’t risk touching his little wings. “Should we get ready for the day and then eat breakfast?” She asked him, already walking toward the bathroom. Uri nodded, his head resting on the crook of Elain’s neck.

She took great care of his pained wings as she helped him bathe, as she helped him wear some clothes Azriel had given her. Elain smiled at the older Illyrian’s thoughtfulness.

As Uri finished his breakfast– some leftover blueberry muffins from yesterday– Elain recounted what Azriel had said to her the night before. “I need to examine your wings,” she said. Uri stiffened. “I know, I know, sweet boy, but my– my friend has wings like yours, and they were hurt, too. He knows how to fix them, he told me how to. Can I take a look?”

Elain held her breath. She wasn’t going to force him to accept if he didn’t want to– only the Cauldron knew what had been done to him– but she really, really hoped he would. Seeing those injuries on a child made her blind with rage, and all Elain wanted to do was to take his pain away.

“Fine.” His small, child-like voice was barely audible.

Elain let out a sigh of relief. “I’m only going to take a look today. Tonight, I’ll meet with my friend and he’ll tell me what we need to do to fix these beautiful wings,” she explained. “I already know they’re going to be majestic when you get older,” she booped his nose.

Uri blushed and giggled. Elain laughed with him. They played a while together, before they found a secluded place where Elain could assess the state of his wings.

She had to swallow the fury and tears at the sight of what had been done to them, to him. His wings had laceration and burn scars. Someone had cut and burned them. Her hands closed in tight fists at her sides, her mind swimming with thoughts of hurting whoever was responsible.

“My papa doesn’t like me much,” Uri’s words stopped her fuming. Elain glanced in the mirror, caught his eyes. They were in a bathroom that was long unused, the plumbing required too expensive to afford.

“Why do you say that?” She asked, even as she kept checking his wings out.

Uri shrugged. “He tells me all the time. He says he only wanted to be with my mother, that I wasn’t supposed to be here.” The way he said it, like it was normal for a parent to utter such things… Elain had to take a deep breath to quell the rage simmering in her blood.

“That’s not very nice, is it?”

Uri again shrugged.

“What happened to him?” She asked, and immediately knew it was the wrong thing to say. His face shut down, his body tensed, and he wriggled to be put down. “I’m tired, Miss Elain. Can I go sleep?”

Elain cursed herself, but nodded anyway. She went with him to his bedroom, stayed until he fell asleep. Then, she all but ran outside, Garth already waiting for her. During the long minutes of the ride, she thought back on Uri’s words, what she had seen. Her vision was red, and when she finally got out of the carriage, she pounded on Azriel’s door.

This time, he didn’t bother pretending he wasn’t inside.

“El–” Azriel started, but Elain’s anguished voice interrupted him.

“He burned him, Az. He cut him, he hurt his own son. How could a parent, anyone hurt a child?” Her voice broke, and Azriel’s concerned face appeared blurry to her.

Elain felt wetness on her cheeks just as Azriel’s scarred hand rested on her shoulder. She brought a hand to her face and wiped away the tears she hadn’t realized she’d shed.

Azriel’s other hand lightly touched Elain’s chin, lifting her head up. “It’s going to be alright, lo–Elain,” he murmured.

Their eyes locked, and the tenderness in his had her nodding. Something tightened low in her belly.

“Now, take a deep breath and repeat what you just said, slowly.”

Elain did as he asked.

She watched as his hazel eyes, so much like Uri’s, darkened to the point they resembled a depthless pit the more she explained what the Illyrian child had told her and what she’d seen. The next time Azriel spoke, the ice in his voice sent a shiver down Elain’s back. “Do you know where his father,” the last word was said with particular vitriol. “lives? His name?”

She shook her head. “He didn’t say. He only said that his father doesn’t like him. The things that male has said to him… I’m sick just thinking about it.”

Azriel’s eyes flashed with so much fury that told Elain exactly what he thought of the male, and what he planned to do to him when he found him. Because he would find him, be it the last thing he ever did. And, Elain mused, she would join him in letting Uri’s father know what, exactly, he was worth.

“Do you think,” Azriel’s voice brought her back to the present. “that the child would be comfortable around me?”

Elain inclined her head. “I’m not sure. He gave me the impression that he’s wary around males. Why?”

There was nothing, absolutely nothing on Azriel’s face as he said, “My own brothers did the same to me when I was slightly older than him. I think it would be best for him if he heard the healing process from someone who went through the same hurt as him.”

Her heart stopped beating for a while. When it picked up again, it did so with a rage that burned scarlet. She’d known something had happened to him, his scarred hands proof of it. But never would she have thought it had been done to him by his family–

Her horror and wrath must have shown on her face because Azriel asked, his brows furrowed, “Feyre didn’t tell you?”

Elain let out a distressed noise. “What— What happened to them?”

Azriel’s eyes shut down. “You don’t want to know.”

She bared her teeth, something wild clawing at her chest. “I do. If they still breathe, I want to end them myself.”

Azriel’s eyes widened. One of those beautiful, scarred hands splayed on his chest, where his heart lay beneath. “Elain—” He rasped out.

They’d moved into the tiny living room as they’d talked. Now Azriel let himself fall on the gray sofa, panting.

Elain reached out, concerned. “Are you alright?” She asked, but as she made to touch him, he jerked away like a spooked animal.

Her hand froze midway. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, confused. Elain didn’t even know what she was apologizing for.

Azriel shook his head. “I need… Let me know if Uri’s fine to meet me. I have somewhere to go.” He wouldn’t even meet her eyes.

It was like that night again, she thought bitterly as she exited his house, not even bothering to say goodbye.

Her heart constricted in her chest as she realized how stupid she’d been to come to him. She should have gone to Rhys, or Cassian, or even Madja. Her mind betrayed her by replaying that fateful night all those months ago.

Elain closed the door of the carriage and banished those thoughts.

She went back to the orphanage a couple of days later. She inquired more about Uri, but Carys had learned nothing more about him. “I can show you where we found him, though,” she offered. Elain readily accepted, scanning the area keenly, memorizing it down to the smallest details, in order to be able to describe it to Az, or, if necessary, to allow Rhys a clear view if he needed to go through her mind.

Her hands closed into two tight fists as she noticed there was no shelter in the area, just a few trees under which Uri had surely sought refuge.

“Sweet boy, I have to ask you something,” Elain said now, while she and Uri were playing with a few blocks in the orphanage’s playroom.

He glanced up at her. His wings were touching the ground, but he didn’t seem to mind. She remembered her younger sister, Feyre, once explaining that it was a profound shame for an Illyrian’s wings to drag on the ground, a sign of weakness. Elain wondered if Uri had ever been taught how to fly. Somehow, she didn’t think he had.

“My friend would like to meet you,” she started slowly. His shoulders immediately bunched up. “You know how you told me your father doesn’t like you much? His brothers didn’t either, and they hurt him badly. He wants to help you.”

Uri didn’t say anything as he went back to his blocks. Elain barely held her sigh in. She knew it was a long shot. She’d seen how he reacted around males, she should have expected his, albeit silent, refusal. Hopefully, Madja knew how to help him, or maybe Azriel could explain to them the best–

“Will you be there with me?” Uri’s small, quiet voice interrupted her thoughts.

Elain settled her eyes on him again, and watched as his attention was wholly on her. “Of course. You’re my friend, now, Uri. You’ll never get rid of me,” she answered solemnly even as her fingers tickled his sides. He giggled, and it was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard. Her laughter soon joined his, and for the first time in months, years, her heart felt light.

As their mirth slowly trailed off, Uri gave his consent to meeting Azriel.

“That’s good,” Elain nodded. “You will like him. He’s quiet like you, but his heart is full of love to give.” It was just that he hadn’t met the right person to give all that love to, Elain thought wistfully. She’d once believed she was that person, and what a fool she’d been. Her heart ached at the knowledge, but she hoped he would find her one day soon.

Uri’s eyes flashed with interest at that, but he didn’t voice his curiosity. He went back to playing, throwing her glances when he thought she wouldn’t notice.

When she got home hours later, she let Azriel know through the twin wraiths, Nuala and Cerridwen, about Uri’s decision. Her friends could tell something was bothering her, somehow knowing she didn’t want to talk about it. Nonetheless, they spent time with her, trying to cheer her up.

She may not have the love of her life in her arms, Elain mused, but at least she had this. And much more. She had her family, her friends, her job, the orphanage, and Uri. She had much to smile for, to be happy about.

“Just a heads up. He doesn’t talk much, and he needs his time before opening up. That also includes telling you if he wants fruit or cereal for breakfast,” Elain warned three days later.

The shadowsinger nodded, even though his eyes were focused on the small building, assessing all the work that was visibly needed.

“We’re hoping to save enough money to fix… everything,” she answered his silent question with a laugh.

He swung his gaze back to hers and arched an eyebrow. Elain shrugged. “We’re reaching the goal soon, and then some more. I might have put the request on top of the pile of papers Feyre and Rhysand have to go through. I might have also added my name there.”

She could have sworn his lips twitched, amusement dancing in his eyes. Her heart constricted with the need of having him.

Elain cleared her throat, aware that a flush had spread on her neck. She could have sworn Azriel’s ears were tinged red, too. “Let’s go meet Uri.”

The child in question lay on his tiny bed. He appeared to be sleeping, his face peaceful. Too peaceful. Elain knew at once he was faking it. She turned to Azriel, mirth in her eyes, and saw the understanding and glee on his features.

“Oh, Azriel, he’s sleeping,” she faux-whispered. “We’ll have to come back on another day. He’s sleeping.”

Azriel shook his head. “That’s too bad, I brought him a present, but I guess I’ll have to give it to him some other time,” he said, doing his best to sound serious.

Uri tensed, cracking one eye open.

Elain interlaced her arm with Azriel’s. “Let’s go, you can give it to him next time.”

She made to open the door, but Uri’s “I’m awake, Miss Elain” stopped her. Exchanging an amused glance with Azriel, they both turned to him.

“You’re awake!” Elain exclaimed, sounding surprised. “Uri, this is Azriel, my friend I told you about. Azriel, this is Uri, my newest friend,” she introduced them.

The child nodded vigorously. His gaze shifted to Azriel, and some of his excitement dimmed. He seemed to study him, taking in his size, his wings. His weariness slowly eased off, leaving interest in what Az had said he had for him.

“Oh, yes,” the shadowsinger said, his shadows handing him a soft toy. It resembled him, the hazel eyes, the dark hair, the wings. It was an Illyrian toy.

Uri’s eyes flickered with something that looked a lot like yearning, though a hint of fear and hurt could be found in them, as though he wouldn’t allow himself to believe it was for him, that he deserved it.

“My mother gave it to me when I was your age. She’d made it herself, claiming it would give me strength and that one day I’d be tall and strong. I think it worked, what do you think?”

Uri nodded, awe shining on his face.

“I want you to have it. So when you feel like you need it, you can just hug him tight to your chest and borrow his strenght,” Azriel finished, offering the toy to the boy.

The young Illyrian grabbed it, holding it tight in his arms. Unwelcomed tears filled Elain’s eyes, and she had to look away.

“Thank you, Mr. Azriel,” replied Uri brightly.

Az only inclined his head.

“Right,” Elain caught their attention. “Uri, do you remember what I told you about Azriel?” She waited for his nod before continuing. “Do you think he could take a look at your beautiful wings?”

The small child hesitated, but after a furtive glance in Azriel’s direction – who was trying his best to make him feel at ease – he gave a small nod.

It was a painful process.

Azriel knew it would be. He’d gone through it all those centuries ago, except in that case he was Uri and in his stead was his mother.

Uri was trying his best not to make any sound as Azriel grazed his wings, trying to assess how deep the damage went.

“Can I touch your wings, Uri?” He’d asked.

The boy had been confused at the request. It had taken Az a few seconds to understand that it was due to never being asked for permission to be touched. He’d done his best to cloud the fury he’d felt in that moment, the last thing he wanted was to frighten the small child in front of him.

Azriel consulted with his shadows. The scars were countless, but mostly superficial, which was the preferred outcome he hoped for.

He turned to Elain, whom his shadows had let him know was seated on a stool near the door, her attention solely on them, and gestured to her to come closer.

“It’s not going to take one day, or two, nor three. It’s going to take a while, a few weeks at the earliest. If we rush the healing, we could make things worse,” Az explained to the both of them. Elain nodded, Uri too young to fully understand what he was saying.

“One more thing,” he looked solely at Elain as he went on. “He can’t stay here. He needs a room only for himself, a bathroom with the things he needs, including his balm.”

“I won’t allow him to go back to his— to that place,” Elain growled.

It hurt looking at her, after yesterday’s revelation. The ferocity with which she defended a child that wasn’t her own, that she wasn’t related to… Cauldron damn him, it made him want her that much more.

Az quickly clarified, “That’s not what I’m saying. I think he should come home with you, El.”

The name slipped out, but she didn’t seem to notice. “What?”

He shrugged. “Well, it’s clear he feels safe around you, and I doubt he does with any of the other volunteers, does he?” At her shake of head, he nodded. “He needn’t feel crowded, and he might feel shame if the other kids, especially the older ones, witnessed his state” he added, lowering his voice so as not to be heard by Uri.

“I understand, I really do, but I just can’t bring a child to the river house! Nyx is only a few months old,” Elain explained, frustrated at the thought of failing Uri.

“What about the town house?”

He watched as she contemplated his words.

“I guess I could just tell Rhys that I need my space, that I need to figure some things out,” she bit her lip, deep in thought, and Azriel had to grind his jaw to stop the fantasies playing out in his head.

“I will come by often, to heal him,” Azriel offered.

An emotion he couldn’t decipher – despite the years of spying and torturing information out of other people — crossed her face, but it was gone in the next blink of eyes.

“That’s– That’s perfect,” replied Elain. Az didn’t need his shadows to know it was a lie.

Uri agreed to go live with Elain when they sat him down and explained the situation to him. Az could have sworn he almost looked relieved at the thought of leaving the orphanage. Not that he could blame him.

They began making arrangements, and a week later, Azriel dropped Elain and Uri in their new home.

Something that wasn’t his shadows screamed at him that it was wrong to leave his— to leave Elain and Uri alone. That he belonged with them, that he was supposed to stand at their side, protecting them.

The urge was primal, and it left him breathless. It took all his training to not double over in pain.

He ignored it, though.

And so he went to that flimsy house he owned, alone, trying to force those traitorous thoughts out of his head.

Uri settled rather quickly, Elain reckoned. He’d been awed by the size of the house, the many rooms and all the comfort he could find in it. He loved spending time in front of the fire, or in the kitchen with Elain as she baked him his favorite desserts (blueberry anything).

But most of all, he loved his bedroom.

She and Azriel had spent a long while debating on how to decorate it, and in the end had settled on few things. The bed, appropriate for his age, had a dark oak bed frame, which went perfectly with the cobalt blue bedding Elain had insisted on getting, as it was similar to the one in the orphanage. The wardrobe matched the bed, like the bookshelves. Az had snuck in a rocking chair, too, blushing as he admitted to her that being cuddled by his mother in one had brought him a great deal of comfort when he was recovering.

There were a few toys scattered on the floor, but they’d decided against buying him too many things. Elain planned on taking him shopping in the Rainbow of Velaris, giving him the choice to choose the things he liked— clothes, toys, shoes.

Uri had stared at her wide-eyed as she’d explained why he didn’t have many things as of yet, like it was too great a gift to even consider.

Though he’d adjusted fairly well, he seemed to be always looking over his shoulders, as if he was expecting someone to be there. Shaking her head, Elain thought it was probably his father, the memory of him, of what he’d done, haunting him from so far away.

They were baking a cake — lemon flavored this time, because Uri had shyly confessed he wanted to try it — when he broached the subject.

“When will Mr. Azriel come by?”

Elain paused. “I’m not sure. I guess soon,” was all she could offer.

Truth to be told, things between her and Az had been… strange. Ever since the day she’d come to his place, he’d acted oddly in her presence. She’d scrambled through her thoughts to see if she’d done anything to upset him, if perhaps she’d acted too familiar with him, but she’d come up empty.

Maybe Rhys had telepathed upsetting news and that’s why he’d behaved that way. But it wouldn’t explain why that had persisted in the following days. It had been almost two weeks since that day, yet he still had trouble meeting her eyes.

The other option, the one that made her heart squeeze painfully, was that he’d still regretted that Solstice Night.

Elain had been embarrassed for months on end by his rejection, barely being able to stay in a room with him, but now… Now, thanks to Nuala and Cerridwen’s help, she’d come to terms with the fact that he did not want her. At first, the words hurt her. She’d been sure her feelings were reciprocated, after all, but now she could say them almost painlessly.

Perhaps Az hadn’t gotten over the embarrassment yet. All Elain cared was that his feelings for her — or the lack thereof — wouldn’t come in the way of Uri’s recovery. Deep down, she knew they wouldn’t, but his silence in the past days troubled her.

“Is he working?” Uri interrupted her thoughts.

“Umh?” Elain shook her head. “I’m not sure. Do you want me to ask?”

He looked confused at that.

“What’s wrong?”

It was his turn to shake his head. “Does he beat the bad guys and take them into the Prison?” He asked instead.

She smiled at that. “That’s Cassian’s job. But Az does help him at times, yes. He fought in the War,” she explained, piquing his interest. “Oh, yes. But Az mainly finds information about bad people, and forces them to confess their wrong doings.”

Uri clapped in youthful excitement. “I wanna be like him when I grow up.”

It was then that Elain noticed the tendrils of shadows coming in from the front door.

A few moments later, Azriel appeared.

To people who didn’t know him, he looked perfectly impassive. But she had spent months looking at him, throwing him glances when she thought no one was looking, studying his perfect features, his silences — yes, there were different ones. She appreciated each one of them, loved the way his eyes tightened when he was worried about something, the way they brightened when he listened to Mor and Cassian’s bickering — his expressions. The one he was wearing now told her he’d heard Uri’s words. Told her they had moved something in him, their effect too great to be put into words.

“Az,” Elain breathed, and blindly saw Uri turn to him, too.

“Good evening,” said Az, and even his voice betrayed the emotion he was trying his best to bury.

“Hi, Mr. Azriel.” Uri sounded timid. She smiled, well aware that it meant he looked up to the male, that he saw him as a role model.

“I already told you, little guy, just Azriel is fine,” said Az, ruffling the boy’s dark hair. The child blushed under the affectionate attention.

Right then, the Illyrian male looked straight at her.

Her breath caught in her throat at the intensity with which he was looking at her.

“Are you alright?”

She nodded, confused at the question. The light in his eyes seemed to dim at her silent reply, leaving her even more puzzled.

But before she could mull his reaction over — which she totally added to the list of strange reactions she’d gathered from him in the past days — he announced, “I talked with the family’s healer, and we decided to add a salve to the regimen. That way, your wings will be able to heal without leaving any scars. What do you think, Uri?”

The boy looked at him, before his gaze slid down to the older male’s scarred hands. “Why didn’t you put it on your hands, too?”

Elain’s mouth hung open, and she shot Azriel a mortified look. But the shadowsinger’s attention was entirely on the Illyrian boy as he answered, “Because the people who hurt me made it so the scars could never be removed.” He seemed to notice Uri’s distress at that, because he bent to his eye level and added, “I got used to it. Plus, it scares the bad guys enough so that they will confess to everything rather quickly.”

Uri smiled. “So you can come by more often?”

Az paused. Then he nodded, slowly, as if his shadows had whispered something in his ears.

Elain wondered at that, at the slightly surprised, soft expression on his face.

Yet it was gone in the next blink of eyes, his face turning impassive once again.

She saw as he opened his mouth, about to make his leave, but Uri spoke up before he could. “Will you come by tomorrow, Mr. Azriel?”

Az hesitated. “I’m not sure.” He glanced at Elain, who shrugged. Uri needed a good male influence in his life. Azriel was one. “I– You see, I have to work–”

“You can come after. Right, Miss Elain?” He asked her.

She nodded. “We could go shopping. You’re in need of clothes, sweet boy.”

Azriel sighed. He knew there was no arguing with the child who had him wrapped around his tiny finger.

Elain giggled a little, as if she could read the thought on his face. He glared at her, but there was no heat behind it. She smiled, and went back to the pie.

“I know, I know it hurts,” Elain murmured, fighting back her tears as Uri cried out for the fourth time.

One of the steps of the recovery included a salve to be applied on the scars on his little wings. It only needed to be applied three times, the tonic taking doing most of the work, yet it was painful. Az had warned them both, but nothing could have prepared Elain for the pure agony in Uri’s screams and cries.

She wondered how his father could stand it as he hurt him, over and over again. It made the blood in her veins boil from the hot anger she felt.

Madja was applying the salve carefully, taking great care of his pain, while Elain and Azriel comforted him. Uri was clutching Az’s hand so tight, while his head was resting on Elain’s shoulders. She kept dropping kisses on it, but she knew nothing they did now would ease his pain.

Afterward, Elain gathered him in his arms and sat on the rocking chair Az had thoughtfully insisted they get. She was telling him a tale, one her father used to tell her when she was Uri’s age, all while drying his tears and murmuring soothing words.

Azriel sat on a nearby chair, listening raptly. His features were troubled with distress, for what had been done to the boy, for what he now had to go through.

When Elain finally laid the child on his bed, who was fast asleep, her heart was heavy, and she knew Az’s was, top. She watched Uri, and she reached to smooth the furrows in his brows, pain still etched on his face even in sleep. Azriel dropped a kiss on his forehead, and left a stuffed toy next to him. A new present. He always left him something new after one of the healing sessions.

They got out of his room, and Elain managed a few steps before her legs failed.

She cried, silently, as she’d learned to when she was a girl.

Strong arms wrapped around her, and she leaned her head back against the equally strong chest. She didn’t know how long they stayed in that position, as she tried her best to muffle her sobs and Az tried to calm her. At some point, she could have sworn she felt a tear drop on her hair.

It was the most vulnerable she had allowed herself to be.

“Can I play with my toys?”

Elain looked at Uri. She was reading a gardening catalog, interested in finding new flowers to grow.

Uri was supposed to study his letters, which was exactly what she told him.

“But I’m bored and tired, Elain. I’m hungry,” he complained.

One of the hardest things she’d had to learn, Elain found, was understanding when to give in to Uri’s requests, and when she needed to be firm. After almost a month, though, she thought she had the hang of it.

“No, but,” she added, when he started to make the face she knew meant he was ready to protest, “you can take a break from studying to have a healthy snack before Azriel comes for your flying lesson.”

Azriel had been clear from the start: his wings would never fully heal if he didn’t keep them in good condition, and that meant flying.

Today was going to be the first lesson, after more than two weeks since they last applied the salve and given him the tonic.

Uri lowered his gaze to the ground, and didn’t say anything back. Elain furrowed her brows. When she’d first met Uri, his silences were common, his hesitation expected. But in the month and a half since he’d moved in with her, he’d started making his voice heard. He wasn’t scared of speaking his mind anymore, he’d throw tantrums as was expected for his age, he’d laugh so hard that tears came out from his eyes.

So it was concerning to see him so… quiet, now. But what she learned above all was that he hated being pushed into talking. It usually brought a smile to her face, because he reminded her so much of Azriel. If she hadn’t met Cassian, she’d most likely think it was an Illyrian trait.

Elain watched him carefully as he ate, trying to gauge what was troubling him.

He was still eating when Az appeared. Something akin to longing flashed in his eyes as he took them in, but it was gone in the next instant.

“Hi,” she greeted him with a smile, and he answered with one of his own. It brought a light flush to her cheeks.

In the weeks they’d spent together, her infatuation for Azriel had grown stronger again. Well, it wasn’t like it had gone anywhere, but ever since his rejection a year ago, she’d tried to move on. She’d distanced herself from him, as he did the same, and she’d surrounded herself with her family and friends. But now, in this house, just the three of them… It was almost like he’d never broken her heart. Elain kept scolding herself, reminding herself that he did not want her that way. She tried to tell her heart how bad it hurt when he called their almost-kiss a mistake, but it wouldn’t listen. Azriel was the male she wanted, and she now knew that would never change.

“Hi, Azriel,” said Uri quietly. Az’s eyebrows raised at his gloomy tone, and he looked at Elain inquisitively. She raised her shoulders, silently telling him she didn’t know what happened.

“Are you ready for our lesson?” He tried to cheer the Illyrian child up.

Uri burst into tears.

It took both the adults by surprise, enough so that they didn’t react initially.

But then Azriel was by his side, holding the small boy to himself. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Uri wailed louder at that.

Az kept rubbing his back, soothing him. Elain watched the two of them, her heart racing in her chest.

“I’m s-sorry,” Uri tried to say through his sobs.

“What are you sorry for?”

“I’m not good. I’m bad,” he kept crying.

“Why do you say that?” Az asked calmly, steadily.

“I can’t fly. I don’t know how to,” he whispered, ashamed.

The shadowsinger’s hands paused. He seemed frozen to the spot for a few beats, but in the next he said, almost growling, “You’re not bad for not knowing how to fly. It’s not your fault.”

Uri shuddered at that, though he stopped sobbing. A few tears kept rolling down his cheeks.

“I was older than you when I learned how to fly,” Az confessed. “My step-mother wasn’t… nice, neither were my brothers. But my friends, my real brothers, they taught me how to fly. They were patient, and kind, and so I will be with you. And in a few centuries, when I’m old as withered and you young and fit, you’ll be a better flier than me. I promise,” he said solemnly.

Uri sniffled, but didn’t say anything for a long while.

“I wish you were my father,” he whispered, so low, that she knew she was able to hear him only thanks to her Fae hearing.

Azriel froze. He paled as he pulled back to stare at the little boy in his arms. Elain’s heart had soared in her throat at his words. She scrambled to find something to say, but Az beat her to it. “Me too, baby, me too.” Then, he hugged him back, and she was unsure who needed the hug more.

She left them to their sweet moment, and went back to her catalog. A while later, she heard the front door open and close. A quick glance at the window told her the two Illyrians had begun their lesson.

Though Elain had prepared dinner, Uri was too tired to even eat that night. Elain let it slide, as she had expected this and had given him substantial food before. She was about to ask him if he was ready for bed when he faced Azriel and asked him, “Will you read me my story tonight?”

Az froze. He glanced at Elain, a panicked, helpless look on his face.”I–”

“Maybe not tonight, sweet boy,” she intervened. Uri turned back to her, his brows furrowed. “Azriel is tired after training you all afternoon. He needs to rest,” she explained.

He seemed to hunch in on himself, mulling over her words. Then he straightened his spine, a clever glint in his eyes, his earlier tiredness seemingly vanished. “Then we’ll read to him!”

This time, both adults froze. They looked at each other, unsure of what to say. Elain lifted a shoulder. Azriel inclined his head. Her eyes widened slightly. His lips quivered. She gave a nod, his following shortly after.

Elain turned to Uri. “That’s a great idea. Let’s go get ready for bed, and tomorrow morning I’m making blueberry muffins.”

Both Illyrians looked at her with interest. She shook her head affectionately. She’d learned pretty quickly that they both loved blueberry muffins. Specifically, her muffins.

Uri clapped excitedly, and ran to his room. She grinned as her eyes followed him until he disappeared behind the corner.

Az cleared his throat, bringing her attention back to him. “I’m sorry for intruding.”

She shook her head. “You’re not. Uri likes you, he’s made it pretty clear, he wants to be around you,” she laughed softly. “I’m sorry for keeping you here. I know you probably have somewhere else to be, and–”

“I don’t.” He stepped closer to her.

Elain met his gaze. “Oh.” She didn’t know what to say to that. Did that mean he wanted to be here? “Well, I’m glad then that we’re not…hindering any of your plans.” “You’re not.” He stepped even closer, until there was nothing but a breath between them.

“Good. That’s good.” She swallowed, her heart pulsing in her throat.

“It is. Good, I mean,” he said, his voice low, lower than she’d ever heard it. “Elain… I need to tell you something.”

Her heart started beating faster. “Oh?”

“Yes,” he murmured. “There’s something I should have told you a long ti–”

“Elain, Azriel, I’m ready,” Uri called out from his room.

They both turned to the sound, and that was when Elain noticed how closer they’d gotten. They jerked apart, and went to the Illryian child.

Az willed his thoughts away as he laid down on his bed.

He watched as Uri sat at his side, Elain at the foot of the bed.

He couldn’t believe he was doing this. He thought he ought to be embarrassed, the Spymaster of the Night Court being read to sleep by a four-year-old, but… But he found he was willing to do whatever it took to put a smile on the boy’s face, and the female that was taking care of him. Because Elain was smiling, too, as she looked at Uri. The latter had a kid’s book open on his laps, and was staring at Az expectantly.

“I’m ready,” Azriel confirmed, and Uri nodded, satisfied.

And then he began to read.

It was an effort to keep his laughter in. A quick glance toward Elain told him that she, too, was struggling.

At four years old, Uri still didn’t know how to read — no doubt also thanks to his parents. The story he was telling tonight consisted of describing the pictures depicted in the book.

“Oh, and here’s a tall house. Wow, there’s a princess, too,” he gasped, excitedly.

Az smiled at that, his heart content that Uri’s unease had slowly peeled away in the days he moved in with Elain.

He lay there, and after a while he pretended to fall asleep.

“Elain, I think he’s sleeping,” Uri whisper-yelled.

“He sure is,” Elain agreed. “What do you think, shall we go to sleep, too?”

“Yes,” was the child’s answer.

A few seconds later, Az felt small lips press against his cheek. “Good night, Azriel. Sweet dreams,” said Uri against his skin.

Something warmed in Azriel’s chest at the words. His throat burned, and it took all the control he’d mastered over the years not to let that feeling spill.

“It’s your turn now, Elain,” Uri ordered.

“What?” He heard her ask, and Cauldron damn him, he needed to see the look on her face.

“You need to kiss him goodnight.”

“I’m sure that’s not necessary, Uri,” she protested.

“But what if he gets a nightmare?”

He couldn’t see her, but he knew what she was thinking, what she was feeling. The knowledge came from a place inside him, somewhere he couldn’t touch, yet he knew was there.

So he braced himself for the touch of her lips as they pressed a kiss onto his cheek.

It was a chaste kiss, yet Az nearly groaned out loud. His body tensed with the craving that overtook his body, the need of having her, in all the ways he’d thought of. And he’d spent a long while considering all the ways he wanted her.

“Have sweet dreams, Az,” she whispered, and then he felt them leave.

His name on her lips… It did things to him that he had never contemplated.

He got up, ever so silently made his way to the kitchen. While he waited for Elain, he began cleaning up the mess on the countertop.

A while later, Elain came into the room.

“You’re still here,” she breathed.

Azriel nodded, his gaze fixed on her. It was a damn effort to keep from reaching out and gathering her in his arms.

Az watched as she swallowed. Then she nodded, and asked him, “Do you have anything on his family?”

Azriel’s temper flared at her words, at the reminder. “Not yet. The Illyrian camps… There are many of them.”

She nodded. “I know.” Elain cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, for earlier. For the kiss,” she clarified, though there was no need.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” was all he said.

“That’s good. I wanted to apologize in case it bothered you.”

He let out a low chuckle. “It didn’t.”

Her eyes flashed with resentment at his laugh. “It did last time.”

He stopped laughing.

Elain knew it was a low blow, but she hadn’t been able to hold the words in. She bit her lower lip as the silence between them stretched.

Azriel didn’t back down from her stare as he said, “El… It never bothered me. I wanted it. I wanted you.” He took a step toward her.

The truth in his words stunned her. Yet her heart crumpled in her chest. “Then why?” She fisted her hands, anger and confusion and hurt battling inside her. “Why did you say it was a mistake?”

He hesitated. She let out a hollow laugh. “Right.” She made to leave for her room, when a scarred hand stopped her.

“Rhys stopped me.”

She whirled on him. “What.”

“Rhys stopped me,” he repeated, his hand still on her wrist. “There were too many things at play and I… I was a coward. I should have fought for you, and I didn’t. I’m a bastard.”

Her eyes burned. “So you let me believe you rejected me? That you didn’t want me? For a year?” She whispered, hurt clear in her voice.

He swallowed. “I’m a bastard,” he said again. “I don’t deserve you. I am nothing but a coward.”

Then, he did something she never would have expected him to do.

He went to his knees. “I am not worthy of your forgiveness, nor of your heart, Elain Archeron. But I’m selfish, and if you find it in yourself to give me both, I will greedily take them.” He grabbed her hands between his scarred ones. “I love you. Until I am nothing but ash scattered through the wind, I am yours.”

Her vision was blurry. “What changed,” she asked breathlessly.

Az was quiet for a few beats. Then, “I have always been in love with you. Please, never doubt that, I beg you. Even during all the months we’ve spent apart, my feelings for you never changed, never faltered.” He took a deep breath. “A month ago, when you barged into my house and you learned these scars came from my brothers… I felt it. I felt it snap.”

The air left her.

“I felt the mating bond between us snap.”

She thought about that day. She remembered how… feral she went as he told her what his brothers had done to him, his strange reaction as he all but kicked her out from his house.

Ten months ago, Elain had rejected the mating bond with Lucien Vanserra. He’d done it, too, but they went beyond simple rejection. They’d cleaved it, just so that it would never haunt either of them again.

Now, she was faced with another mating bond.

Azriel was still on his knees before her. “I don’t know how it’s possible, I’ve been trying to find answers, but it’s never happened before.” He took a deep breath. “I didn’t tell you,” he began. “Because we needed to get Uri settled in, heal him. And I needed to know where you stood, if you still believed I was a male worthy of you.”

He slowly got up. “But now… Now I find myself unable to stay away from you any longer. I love you, I want you, I need you. You fill my thoughts when I wake up, as I go on about my day, when I go to sleep. You’re in my dreams, too, where we and Uri are our own little family.”

Elain couldn’t breathe, her emotions choking her.

She brought her arms around his neck, her hands tugging on his hair, and whispered, “I love you. I tried to move one, but I couldn’t. I love you.”

Then, without breaking their eye contact, she offered him the mashed potatoes she’d cooked earlier.

She barely saw the blatant joy in his eyes before he sat down and began eating.

Elain watched him carefully as he ate all of it, not leaving one crumb. Then he got up and pressed his lips to her, like a starved animal.

He groaned in relief as she parted her mouth slightly. He brought her closer to him, until her small breasts were flush against his hard chest.

One of his arms was around her waist, his hand dangerously low, his other in her hair. She tried to get closer even still. She moaned when she felt his hardened length against her lower belly.

He lifted her up and deposited her on the kitchen counter, one of his legs coming between hers and making space for itself. His knee brushed the spot between her legs, and she moaned again.

He fisted the dress she was wearing until it bunched up to her waist. His gaze turned even hotter as the sight of her undergarments came into view. He cursed.

“I need you. Now. I can’t wait,” he said, urgency in his voice, though an apology lay in his eyes.

“Yes, yes, please,” she agreed, bringing his body close to hers.

He undressed them, throwing their clothes to his shadows. His eyes turned molted gold as they fixed on her wetness. “Beautiful,” he whispered, before his lips kissed that sweet that gave her so much pleasure. He slid a finger in, and the sensation was too much. Stars exploded behind her eyes as she rode those waves of passion.

He was inside her before her orgasm had even finished. He groaned as he settled all the way in, and the sound sent a shiver down her spine. She whimpered as he began thrusting, the sheer size of him knocking the breath out of her lungs. Az covered her body with his own, his quickened breaths beating against her neck.

He laid one of his hands on her breast, his mouth on the other, as he kept pumping deep inside her until she saw white, hot pleasure. He spilled inside her, bit the peak of her breast. The sting was almost enough to bring in a new orgasm.

“My love, my life,” he breathed against her neck.

They went four more times that night, exploring each other, claiming each other, until the first lights of dawn appeared in the sky. They lied on the bed, their bed now, and talked about everything and anything. He shared the years in his father’s cell, she her childhood years. They talked about the feelings they felt for each other, their plans for the future.

They were strangers to sleep that day, but they didn’t mind. It was the happiest they’d ever been in their whole lives.

Rhys had been outraged when he'd heard of the orphanage, about all those kids who now didn’t have a family to take care of them, about the state of the building they were staying in.

Elain was making a list of the things that needed fixing — the large sum provided by the High Lord was more than enough — when Azriel winnowed in the town house.

“I found him,” were the words he used to greet her.

Elain turned to him, a confused look on her face. She’d been in the middle of writing down a vision she’d just had when he barged in. “Found him? What– What do you–” Her eyes widened as a sense of clarity came over her. Uri’s father. “You– You did?”

“Yes.” His jaw ticked, fury overshadowing his eyes. “I notified Cassian. I believe he’s taking that piece of shit to the Prison as we’re speaking.”

“The Prison?” Not much was known about the terrible place, but Rhys had asked her if she could use her Cauldron-blessed powers to look into a creature inside a few months back. She shuddered as images of what she’d learned flashed in her mind.

“It’s where he deserves to be.”

“What do you know,” she asked, though it was more of a statement.

“You don’t want to know, trust me,” he growled.

Elain’s spine went ramrod straight. “I do, actually. I want to know what he did to my– to Uri.” She meant it. She also meant the words that almost slipped out. My son. She had come to think of him as such.

Az studied her. After a few minutes, he nodded. “There was only one bed in the… hut they lived in. There were barely a few clothes fit for a child, most of them cut from an older male’s. There was no trace of his mother.” He went silent for a few seconds. “She died during childbirth, because her mate,” he spat out the word. “Refused to take her to a healer. What makes it even worse, he runs a business. A successful business. He had the means to provide for his mate and son, he just refused to.”

All the rage, all the icy fury she’d been brewing over the past weeks, increased tenfold when he finished speaking. But she managed to stifle it as she quietly demanded, “I want to speak to him.”

Azriel shook his head. “You can’t.”

Elain watched him defiantly. “I can. Bring me to him.”

“No, you can’t, and I won’t.” He repeated.

“He hurt my son. Our son. He beat him, burned him, starved him. I want to speak to him.” She raged. She meant it, the word that slipped out. Son. She had come to think of him as such in the past two months, his love and affection and trust something she longed to keep for eternity. She knew Az agreed with her every word.

Azriel’s eyes brightened with unshed tears. “I know, I know. Do you think I don’t want to do the same?” He shook his head. “Do you know what my shadows told me, that first night I came here?” He didn’t wait for her reply. “Uri thought we were mated, that he’d joined our family. And he was right, he’s our son. That’s why we can’t retaliate against his father. We need to think of Uri. Of what he wants. Maybe in the future, when’s a grown male, he wants to meet with him, to go back to him again. We can’t stop it, we can’t jeopardize it.”

“No! I don’t want to go back to him. I want to be with you!”

They whirled around, not having heard Uri come in. Elain watched as Uri’s face turned bright red. “Don’t take me back to him. Dad, please,” he begged.

Az swayed on his feet at the word with which Uri called him. He rasped out, “Never, my baby. My son.” He lifted him in his arms and hugged him, holding him close to his chest.

Elain walked over to them. Azriel let her in their embrace, kissing his son and his mate.

“Mom,” Uri said quietly. “Stay here. I don’t want you near him, he’s mean.” Elain blinked back tears at that. But she nodded, and held them tighter.

Her loves, her life.

#elriel fic #elriel #pro elriel #elain archeron #azriel #acotar #adoption #canon divergence #elriel fanfic

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irismoonrise · 2 years

Text

It’s About Time

Summary: Azriel returns from a spying mission badly injured, scaring Gwyn. As she cares for him, a panicked Elain rushes in seeking to do the same. Some drama unfolds as the two fight over being there for Azriel. (Gwynriel One Shot)

Read on AO3

Word Count: 1.4k

Pairing: Gwyneth Berdara x Azriel

A/N: I've had this saved in my drafts for a while due to me being hesitant of all the Elriel and Gwynriel ship drama. But today i finally got the writing somewhere i liked it and felt good enough to post it. This was inspired by a scene from Harry Potter, you’ll know if you know lol. Anyways, Enjoy.

Gwyn focused on the swift movements of her sword as she landed calculated hits on the practice dummy. Her braided hair seemed to glow like fire as she moved with ease in the early morning sun.

This side of the training ring was fairly empty when she emerged from the library, but now there were small groups of other priestesses warming up. Cassian had been called to the river house a few moments ago and Nesta had followed. Emerie was also missing today as she was handling some things at her store.

Gwyn would usually use this time to practice movements and techniques with various short blades or daggers. Azriel was always there, adamant about instructing her properly but today he was missing too. It wasn’t unusual for the shadowsinger to miss a few lessons, but something about this time had Gwyn on edge. She couldn’t get rid of that feeling in her stomach, that something wasn’t right.

She focused again on her sword, swiping the dummy so hard that hay spewed out of its ripped side. Panting, she moved to set the weapon against the rack and head to the water station. The other priestesses smiled at her as she walked by. Once she reached the water station and began to fill her glass, a shadow flew overhead, distracting her and making her look up.

She gasped as she took in Azriel’s form, bobbing and swerving in an attempt to land properly. His hand was pressed hard against his left side that appeared to be bleeding profusely.

Gywn quickly set down her glass and made to run back out into the ring. She didn’t know what she could do, didn’t know where he would land. The other priestesses moved quickly, no doubt seeing and thinking the same.

While she panicked, Azriel landed with a loud thud that sent him rolling towards a corner of the ring. Gwyn took off running for him, nausea filling her gut. Dropping to her knees next to his limp and crumpled form, she took in his shadows swarming him. She reached through them and around his wings for his shoulder, flipping him over.

She and several of the priestesses who had gathered around gasped at the blood drenching his leathers. Gwyn situated his head on her lap, his shadows were cold as they swarmed her arms. He must have passed out as he landed. The nausea in her gut turned to horror and alarm at seeing him like this.

Gwyn knew he needed help and fast. Looking up at the other priestesses, she yelled, “Someone go alert Rhysand and get a healer! Now!”

They just stared at her for a moment before bursting into movement. Deirdre appeared with a cloth, kneeling on the other side of Azriel. As she laid it over his wound and gradually applied pressure, he jerked awake, eyes wide.

Gwyn grabbed the side of his face, forcing him to look at her. She said gently, “Shh, it’s okay, Az. Look at me, we're getting you help.”

The alarm in his eyes settled and his body relaxed as he took in her face. His eyes softened before drifting closed. Gwyn felt another pulse of panic at him going unconscious again. From the way his skin paled and his shadows deepened, he was worse than she thought.

She said a silent prayer to the Mother before her thoughts could descend to the worst.

—

Everyone stood gathered around Azriel who lay unconscious in his bed at the House of Wind. Gwyn sat on a small chair next to him, her folded arms a breath away from Azriel’s hand. She stared at his face as Rhys and Feyre spoke, their faces grim.

“They must have sensed him somehow. Maybe they set a new type of ward,” Rhys said.

“They probably took extra precautions knowing we would send him at some point,” Feyre replied.

Cassian said tightly, “I knew you shouldn’t have sent him to that fortress. Damn getting information if it results in things like this.”

From the tightness on Nesta’s face, Gwyn knew she agreed. She had no idea where they’d sent him but it must have been a difficult place for him to end up like this. Anger twisted in her gut at the situation they put him in.

Noting their expressions, Feyre said, “We’d hoped to get the information before they caught on. We were confident that Azriel could get in and out with no problems.”

Gwyn was reminded of the frantic moments between him landing in the training ring to Rhys and Cassian hauling him inside for Madja to look at. She had taken one look at him and exclaimed that someone had practically gutted him. Gwyn cringed at the thought, her stomach bottoming out once again.

As the others prepared to bicker, she looked at Azriel’s face. She had never seen him so peaceful and relaxed. His shadows had calmed once he was healed and now they moved lazily around his shoulders.

Before she could reach for his hand, loud and quickly moving footsteps sounded from the hall. She looked up in time to see Elain pushing past Feyre into the room.

“Where is- Gods, is he alright?” She asked, her face pinched with concern.

Gwyn felt something spark in her chest at Elain’s face. It irritated her for some reason.

Rhys opened his mouth to reply but Gwyn beat him to it. “Madja said he’ll be fine with some rest and proper tending to.”

“Oh…that’s good,” Elain replied hesitantly as she sized up Gwyn and how close she sat next to Azriel. She looked over at Nesta and whispered to her, “What’s she doing here?”

Gwyn didn’t know if she actually thought she was being quiet in asking her question or asking it loud enough to start something. She answered anyway, “I’m here because he practically fell out of the sky during training. I just happened to be the one to get him help.”

Elain didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, well thank you so much for being there. I can see he’s better now so you can go finish your training.”

Gywn almost gaped in shock. She couldn’t believe Elain’s attempt at dismissing her like some nursemaid. She replied, “I was actually finishing up some when it happened so I think I’ll sit here for a little while and see if he needs anything when he wakes up.”

Gwyn could see the anger that flickered in Elain’s eyes at her response, she reveled in it for a moment. As they stared at each other, the others in the room shifted to the background as their conversation took centerfold. She could feel all their eyes on them, warily watching them.

Elain broke eye contact first, smiling as she said, “You should go and take a moment to clean yourself up, I don’t think him waking up to you covered in his blood will do much good.”

Gwyn was in fact still covered in his blood. She had washed her hands but most of it still soaked her leathers. The fact that Elain was trying to get rid of her so badly had Gwyn burning with anger. If she thought she would leave Azriel after what she’d seen today, she was sadly mistaken.

Before Gwyn could snap back with her response, Azriel stirred and groaned. She grabbed his hand and moved closer as he slightly opened his eyes. Gwyn noted Elain’s presence on the other side of the bed, she too had rushed over as he stirred.

“Gw…Gwyn,” He rasped.

She moved even closer, lifting his hand and placing it against her cheek. “I'm here. I'm here, Az.”

“Gwyn…” He said again as his head moved in her direction.

She glanced over to Elain—and from the deep frown on her face this is not what she was expecting. She slowly backed away from the bed and swiftly retreated from the room, avoiding everyone's glances.

Gwyn focused again on Azriel, comforting him. She sat on the bed, careful of his abdomen, and moved his hand in hers across her cheek. The presence of everyone else in the room seemed to disappear for a moment. She could slightly make out Nesta attempting to usher them from the room.

Just as Cassian reached the door, he looked back at Gwyn and Azriel with a grin and whispered, “It’s about time.”

Gwyn tried and failed to hide her smile at his comment. Nesta quickly appeared, yanking him into the hallway and closing the door behind them.

#gwynriel #gwynriel fanfiction #gwyn acosf #gwyneth x azriel #gwyn acotar #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel #gywn berdara #elain archeron #acosf #sarah j maas #gwyneth berdara

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stargirlfeyre · 8 months

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If Cerridwen and Nuala are training Elain in secret couldn’t they …get in trouble for keeping that a secret from Feysand who they work for? Not that I want them in trouble but why would they be keeping secrets from their employers in the first place and under their own roof? Rhysand usually keeps tabs on everyone, Az too, the twins work as their literal spies, so am I supposed to believe that they’re both unaware of Elain possibly training her stealthiness with the twins? I just feel like Elain is going to be such a secret keeper and I just don’t like that? Go move into your own house with all that mating drama, Az drama, and secret keeping. I like her but Feyre’s sisters are so full of drama..That bonus chapter proved it for Elain.

Why would she think it’s smart to kiss or makeout with Azriel…WHILE HER MATE WAS UPSTAIRS? I don’t care how in the moment someone is lol, SJM made them both seem highly inconsiderate of everyone in that house. “Oh my mates upstairs nbd ☺️ let me makeout with this other guy downstairs as he’s up there sleeping while also not considering that Lucien might feel disrespected since Im doing it while he’s right upstairs, and nbd if he gets pissed enough he starts a fight with Az over it while a pregnant fragile Feyre is upstairs asleep after her birthday Solstice party hehe Az is so cute I like him” I know she wrote it to be this forbidden moment but SJM writes things at the cost of making her characters seem SO morally questionable insensitive or idiotic. I prefer Az over Lucien don’t get me wrong! I prefer Elriel too! but I still think they were wrong to not to be more cautious of Lucien or a pregnant Feyre upstairs..As much as I’m glad we’ll get a look into Feysands life with Nyx as long as Elain lives there in her POV..the drama with Az and Lucien she brings to Feysands household has run its course for me. Take it somewhere else..Im torn between wanting her to live there to see Feysandnyx updates while wanting her to move out so Feyre doesn’t have to deal with her secret keeping and men drama. Feyre already had to deal with her sisters drama and well being give her a damn break SJM

She can’t even invite Lucien over without Elriel fans crying about it saying it makes Elain uncomfortable 😒 Have your adult fave who is mooching off Feyre get a job and move out then, bc Lucien is her friend, even if he was a history of being a super shitty friend ..they love eachother, she can invite him over whenever the hell she wants even if Lucien isn’t my fave. Moochers can’t tell her who to have over and who not to have over sorry to break it to y’all, either move out or deal with it. Not my fault you got bonded to MY friend sis

I don’t think Elain or the twins would get in trouble for it unless they were doing it with bad intentions. Like if they were teaching her to be sneaky so she could spy on Feysand or something then I’d think they’d get in trouble for it but other than that I don’t think anyone would care what the twins were teaching her. As long as it didn’t put her in harms way. And secret keeping is going to be a main factor in Elain’s book I think. Both her and Azriel are very mysterious characters and they have the perfect set up for a secret relationship…Then again Feysand usually knows everything that’s going on (especially Feyre).

And the whole Elriel solstice situation will always just be incredibly stupid to me. Especially how their fans reacted to Rhys interrupting them. Like yes Lucien is not entitled to Elain at all but the fact of the matter is those two are mates and mates tend to act on instinct rather than logic. If Lucien had caught them a fight would have most likely broken out. Remember how he acted just from the thought of Azriel and Elain being alone together? How do you think he would have acted if he’d actually caught them in the middle of something? And on Feyre’s fucking birthday and while she was pregnant too😭. Azriel and Elain were just being horny dumbasses and Rhys wasn’t harsh enough.

I agree Nesta and Elain are just way too much drama and it’s clear that Sjm is always going to insert Feysand into it. She uses them to make their stories more interesting.

And I never take elriels seriously when they cry about how “Feyre makes Elain uncomfortable by inviting Lucien over” because one it’s her house and if Elain doesn’t like whose invited to a house that doesn’t belong to her then she can move out. And two Lucien was Feyre’s friend before he was Elain’s mate. He’s most likely going to stay Feyre’s friend no matter what choice Elain makes with the mating bond. It’s so selfish and entitled for Elriels to think that Feyre, who has already given up all her teen years for her sisters, is now obligated to give up her friendships too just because Elain isn’t ready to get her shit together. I know y’all love to baby that girl but other characters aren’t obligated to cater to her feelings.

Elain is in the middle of some drama and instead of wanting her to just grow up and talk it out like normal adults do, her fans turn around and try to shit on Feyre for not working around Elain’s feelings even though all of this is an easy fix.

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icedflames · 3 years

Text

The Progression of Elain and Azriel’s Relationship.

Let me preface this by saying this is LONG.

After a second read through of ACOSF, I really think it’s clear that Elriel will be featured in the next book. Sooo, book by book, I’ve complied excerpts that show the progression of Elain and Azriel’s relationship and why I think the next book will feature them. I’m not going to be adding a lot of commentary, just my general interpretation of the scene. The excerpts speak for themselves.

A Court of Mist and Fury

Chapter 24 - Elain meets Azriel at the Archeron Estate

"A faint smile bloomed upon Azriel’s mouth as he noticed Elain’s fingers white-knuckled on that fork, but he kept silent...”

“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.”

“Elain said to Azriel, perhaps the only two civilized ones here, ‘Can you truly fly?’ He set down his fork, blinking. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, ‘Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.’‘That’s very beautiful,’ she said. ‘Is it not—frightening, though? To fly so high?’ ‘It is sometimes,’ Azriel said.”

“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.”

At their first meeting, Azriel’s attention was on Elain and she labeled the idea of the Illyrian’s flight as beautiful. Feyre notes how Elain and Azriel are similar and says they are “perhaps the only two civilized ones.” Polite and kind.

Feyre notes that Elain’s shoulders loosened when Azriel offered her a polite smile and after noticing Azriel relax, she offers a grin. Azriel probably noticed Elain’s discomfort because of her fingers tightly grasping the fork and tried to put her at ease. In return, Elain felt relaxed based on Azriel’s cues even though they had just met.

Chapter 50 - Feyre distracts Rhys by talking about her sisters

“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. I doubted it. Azriel would likely love Mor until he was a whisper of darkness between the stars.”

Feyre again notes their similar temperaments - how they are both introverted and would appreciate each other’s company in silence. The second part, about Azriel loving Mor forever, now sticks out given what we know from A Court of Silver Flames. I’ll get to that later.

A Court of Wings and Ruin

So at this point, Elain and Nesta have been forcibly turned fae against their will. I didn’t include that portion because it’s more relevant to Elain’s self-journey, rather than her relationship with Azriel.

Chapter 24 - Nesta and Elain move to the townhouse

“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?’ She seemed so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breadth of his shoulders. The wings peeking over them. 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.”

Elain is traumatized from her experience with the cauldron. She’s withdrawn, she’s quiet, and she’s scared. Azriel carries hers through the front door, rather than just setting her down outside. To make her more comfortable with the house, he offers to show her the garden. Feyre likely made mention of Elain loving flowers so this was a sweet gesture on Azriel’s part.

Most significantly, Elain (likely) called Azriel’s scarred skin beautiful - his trauma ingrained into his skin and the history of his abuse... She sees it and calls it beautiful. And Azriel blushes.

“But Lucien’s attention went right to the hallway toward the back, his nostrils flaring as he scented Elain’s direction. And who she’d gone with. A low snarl slipped out of him. ‘Relax,’ Rhys said. ‘Azriel isn’t the ravishing type.’ Lucien cut him a glare.”

Oh Rhys, Azriel definitely is.

I thought it was interesting. Yes, mates become possessive. But why include that? Why wouldn’t Lucien snarl when Elain was with Rhys or Cassian? Just a thought.

“Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports—likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn City—the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it.”

I really love the juxtaposition of Azriel clad in black, sprawled in the gardens with Elain, so full of light, sitting there with them. It’s unlikely that the morally grey spymaster (who literally tortures people for his profession) and the sweet girl would have struck up a friendship. But there they were, in the garden, enjoying each other’s silent company. Exactly what Feyre predicted in A Court of Mist and Fury (“Elain would probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet”).

“‘Why not make them mates?’ I mused. ‘Why Lucien?[...]What decides it? Who decides it?[...]You said your mother and father were wrong for each other; Tamlin said his own parents were wrong for each other.’ I peeled off my dressing robe. ‘So it can’t be a perfect system of matching. What if’—I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?’

‘A mating bond can be rejected,’ Rhys said mildly, eyes flickering in the mirror as he drank in every inch of bare skin I had on display. ‘There is choice. And sometimes, yes—the bond picks poorly sometimes the bond is nothing more than some...preordained guesswork at who will provide the strongest offspring. At its basest level, it’s perhaps only that.’”

The conversation between her and Rhys is very important. Up until this point, we’re led to believe mates are the end all be all. Mates are soulmates. Now, we have a scene directly suggesting that the mating system is flawed and a mating bond could be broken. And it’s Feyre talking about Elain and Lucien’s bond, using Azriel as an example as who Elain might choose over Lucien.

At this point, Elain and Azriel’s relationship starts to progress and they slowly start to become acquainted with each other.

Chapter 27 - Elain has a vision

“‘I saw young hands wither with age. I saw a box of black stone. I saw a feather of fire land on snow and melt it.’”

“Mad. Elain might very well have gone mad.”

So here, Elain spouts a vision and Feyre, Nesta, Mor, and Azriel are taken aback. Feyre remarks that her sister may be going mad. They don’t understand what’s going on with Elain and why she is espousing such creepy things.

“I faced Azriel, exposing my palms to him. ‘What does that mean?’ Azriel’s hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body. And without a word, he winnowed away. Mor watched the space where he’d been standing long after he was gone.”

Azriel had an expression of concerned and then winnowed away without a word, leaving Mor gaping. Why? Why was she gaping and staring at the spot Azriel had been? Could it be that she sees something Feyre doesn’t?

Chapter 30 - Azriel and Cassian visit Elain and Nesta

“The two Illyrians paused their inspection of me long enough to note my sisters finishing up breakfast, Nesta in a pale gray gown that brought out the steel in her eyes, Elain in dusty pink. Both males went a bit still.”

We know that Nesta and Cassian are mates. Cassian stilled at the sight of Nesta. Azriel stilled at the sight of Elain. Hmm.

“I dragged a hand over my face before going to Elain and touching her too-bony shoulder. ‘Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.’ ‘I can help her,’ said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing from his fingers as he extended a hand.”

Azriel stepped in and said he could help Elain get to the garden. A bit of a pattern. He wants to keep her company, and perhaps, wants to have her company. Even more significant are that his shadows are missing. We know that the shadows disappear around Mor, who he’d been pining over for 500 years. Now they’re gone around Elain. Maybe it’s just to make her more comfortable or maybe it’s because he’s developing an interest in her.

Chapter 32 - Azriel discovers Elain is a seer

“Elain’s brows twitched toward each other. ‘The queen—with the feathers of flame.’ The shadowsinger angled his head. Lucien murmured to me, eye still fixed on Elain, ‘Should we—does she need …?’”

‘She doesn’t need anything,’ Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien. Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly.

‘We’re the ones who need …’ Azriel trailed off. ‘A seer,’ he said, more to himself than us. ‘The Cauldron made you a seer.’”

Azriel, as observant as he is, realized Elain wasn’t going mad. She was a seer.

Lucien thought she was going mad or she was ill. As did Feyre, Mor, Nesta and everybody else in the Night Court. This is mentioned in prior chapters when Lucien suggested to Feyre that Elain see a healer.

However, Azriel looked at Elain and figured it out. Which is important to Elain. When speaking to Lucien about Grayson, Elain said, “No one ever looked - not really...He did. He saw me. He will not now.” Azriel looked. Azriel saw her.

Chapter 50 - In the townhouse, winnowing to the Illyrian Camps

“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.”

Azriel’s shadows are gathered around him, likely in response to brewing war and because Feyre just made a deal with Bryaxis. Elain is staring wide-eyed. I don’t interpret this in fear but in awe.

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

The gentleness Azriel exhibits towards Elain is just sweet.

Chapter 62 & 63 - Hyburn kidnaps Elain

“But Azriel asked softly, ‘What about Elain?’ Something cold went through me. Nesta was just staring at Azriel. Staring and staring.”

“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.’”

Azriel is the first person to realize Elain is missing! Not Nesta, not Feyre, not Amren. Azriel.

His eyes glowed (an indication of powers at play), with rage in his stare. Azriel is angry, he’s upset, he will get Elain back. Nobody asked Azriel to rescue Elain. Nesta even told him he would die. But Azriel doesn’t care. He’s getting her back.

This really shows that perhaps their friendship developed further than Feyre realized and Azriel had formed a connection with Elain. A connection strong enough that he would risk dying to get her back.

Chapter 65 - Azriel and Feyre rescue Elain

“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.”

Feyre and Azriel both thought it was Elain screaming in Hyburn’s camp. Rage was rippling off his invisible form. Azriel, stoic, brooding Azriel is so angry because he thinks Elain is being hurt that Feyre remarks on it.

“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.”

Again, Azriel is so gentle with Elain.

Elain devoured the sight of him. Elain didn’t believe Azriel would save her. But he did. “You came for me.”

“The gray light of morning had broken over the world, mist clinging to our ankles as we headed into that camp, Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest.”

“Nesta rounded a tent, skidding to a halt in the mud. She let out a sob at the sight of Elain, still in Azriel’s arms.”

“Rhys lunged for Azriel, taking Elain from him and gently setting my sister down. Azriel rasped, swaying on his feet, ‘We need Helion to get these chains off her.’ Yet Elain didn’t seem to notice them as she rose up on her toes and kissed the shadowsinger’s cheek.”

Azriel is wounded but he’s still cradling Elain to his chest. He doesn’t have to but he doesn’t let go. Almost like if he goes, she’ll disappear again. And then Elain kisses his cheek? Too cute.

Chapter 69 - Truthteller

“Azriel, still limping, merely nudged aside Cassian and extended another option. ‘This is Truth-Teller,’ he told her softly. ‘I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.’”

Azriel is still injured and was being stubborn in wanting to fight, despite Rhys telling him he couldn’t. Azriel didn’t relent until Mor begged him with tears in her eyes. Since he can’t fight, he’s offering Elain one of his knives...

“Elain’s eyes widened at the obsidian-hilted blade in Azriel’s scarred hand. The runes on the dark scabbard. ‘It has never failed me once,’ the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. ‘Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.’ He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. ‘It will serve you well.’”

Again with the gentleness.

“Cassian gawked at Azriel, and I wondered how often Azriel had lent out that blade. Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.

Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade.

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

So Azriel didn’t offer Elain just any knife. It’s Azriel’s most prized possession to the point where no other person, not even his brothers or Mor, had ever been allowed to touch it. Yet here he was lending it to Elain. His relationship and connection to Elain is strong enough and deep enough that he would give her his beloved dagger.

Here’s where it gets interesting. The lovely fawn standing before death. In ACOMAF chapter 57, the Book of Breathlings said (in pertinent part), “Rot and bloom and bones...Hello, fanged beast and trembling fawn.” I think the choice of words is intentional. Death and a fawn? Hmm.

Further, when Majda described the mating bond to Elain she said, “The mating bond. It is a bridge between souls.” Now Feyre says - the only bridge of connection is Truth-Teller. Why use the words describing a mating bond to describe that moment?

Chapter 74 - Elain Kills Hyburn

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

Elain, using Azriel’s dagger, stabbed Hyburn in the neck. The trembling fawn snarled in the king’s ear and killed him to protect Nesta.

Stepping out the shadow seems like a significant parallel. In Chapter 62, “Azriel stepped out of a shadow.” Azriel’s symbol is the shadow. Elain stepped from a shadow, Azriel’s symbol, and exhibited a display of strength, despite being traumatized for most of the book...

A Court of Frost and Starlight

Chapter 2 - Rhysand thinks about the War

“Cassian was near death and Nesta was sprawled over him, shielding him from that killing blow, and Elain—Elain—had taken up Azriel’s dagger and killed the King of Hybern instead.”

Elain, of all people, killed Hyburn with Azriel’s dagger and that imagine is important enough for Rhysand to think of it again.

Chapter 4 - Feyre asks Mor about Truth-Teller when gift shopping

“‘You honestly think he’d ever give up Truth-Teller?’

‘He gave it to Elain,’ Mor said, admiring a moonstone necklace in the counter’s glass case.

‘She gave it back,’ I amended, failing to block out the image of the black blade piercing through the King of Hybern’s throat. But Elain had given it back—had pressed it into Azriel’s hands after the battle, just as he had pressed it into hers before. And then walked away without looking back.”

Just as Azriel had pressed the knife into Elain’s hand, Elain pressed it into his when she finished. Gently.

Chapter 7 - Rhys and Azriel discuss gifts

“‘Az ran a hand through his dark hair. ‘Are we …’ Unusual for him to stumble with words. ‘Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?’

‘No,’ I said, and meant it. Az seemed to loose a sigh of relief. Seemed to, since all but a breath of air passed from his lips”

Interesting how Azriel is stumbling over his words when he asks if he needs to get Elain (and Nesta) a gift. What could be making him so nervous to give her a gift? A crush, maybe?

Chapter 12 - The Inner Circle has a Family Dinner

“Elain’s voice was colder than usual. I glanced at Nuala and Cerridwen, the latter giving me a shake of her head as if to say, Not a good day for her.”

Elain has befriended Azriel’s spies to the point where they tell Feyre, Elain’s sister, that it’s not a good day.

“‘Don’t,’ Elain said flatly, starting once more into a walk, veils of steam drifting past her shoulders from the roasted rosemary potatoes in her hands, as if they were Azriel’s shadows.”

Interesting choice of words.

“Azriel emerged from the sitting room, a glass of wine in hand and wings tucked back to reveal his fine, yet simple black jacket and pants. I felt, more than saw, my sister go still as he approached. Her throat bobbed.”

Handsome Azriel walks in and Elain goes still. Her throat bobs. Elain is totally crushing on Azriel.

“But I strode to my seat—nestled between Amren and Mor—in time to see Elain say to Azriel, ‘Hello.’ Az said nothing. No, he just moved toward her. Mor tensed beside me.”

Why would Mor tense up (again)?

“But Azriel only took Elain’s heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, ‘Sit. I’ll take care of it.’ Elain’s hands remained in midair, as if the ghost of the dish remained between them. With a blink, she lowered them, and noticed her apron. ‘I—I’ll be right back,’ she murmured, and hurried down the hall before I could explain that no one cared if she showed up to dinner covered in flour and that she should just sit.”

Elain was so shocked that she kept her hands up and then ran off to make herself look presentable. She has it bad.

“One moment, his hand was spearing toward the serving spoon. The next, it was stopped, Azriel’s scarred fingers wrapped around his wrist. ‘Wait,’ Azriel said, nothing but command in his voice. Mor gaped wide enough that I was certain the half-chewed green beans in her mouth were going to tumble onto her plate.”

“Azriel didn’t let go. “Wait until everyone is seated before eating.”

Azriel telling Cassian to wait for Elain to come back before they started eating. How sweet! And again, Mor tenses, gapes, etc. because of Azriel and Elain. Why does she keep doing that? Is it because Azriel is maybe moving on? Is she jealous? Or is it something else?

“Elain swept in, apron gone and hair rebraided. ‘Please don’t wait on my account,’ she said, taking the seat at the head of the table.”

She got all fixed up. Aweee.

“‘I’d feel bad for the mice,’ Azriel muttered. Mor and Cassian howled, earning a blush from Azriel and a grateful smile from Elain—and no shortage of scowling from Amren. But something in me eased at that laughter, at the light that returned to Elain’s eyes.”

After Amren bluntly told Elain that there was no going back to being human and Elain was visibly upset, Azriel told a joke to lighten the mood. Elain shot a grateful smile and Feyre’s was so happy to see a light return to her sister’s eyes.

Chapter 16 - Rhys speaks to Cassian and Azriel

“Azriel strode to the lone window at the end of the room and peered into the garden below.”

Who could be in the garden Azriel?

Chapter 18 - Feyre and Elain talk about Lucien

“‘He brought you a present.’

Those doe-brown eyes turned toward me. Sharper than I’d ever seen them. ‘And that entitles him to my time, my affections?’

‘No.’ I blinked. ‘But he is a good male.’ Despite our harsh words. Despite this Band of Exiles bullshit. ‘He cares for you.’

‘He doesn’t know me.’

‘You don’t give him the chance to even try to do so.’

Her mouth tightened, the only sign of anger in her graceful countenance. ‘I don’t want a mate. I don’t want a male.’

Elain is mad. She doesn’t want a mate or a male. Yet some bond is forcing him on her. She doesn’t want Lucien. A gift isn’t enough to win her over.

More importantly - he doesn’t know her.

Chapter 19 - Winter Solstice

“I made to move toward [Elain], but someone beat me to it. 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.”

Azriel immediately made a move towards Elain to wish her a happy solstice. Again with the gentleness.

“Watching Cassian especially, now standing with Az at the fire. He was the portrait of relaxed, an arm braced against the carved mantel, his wings tucked in loosely, a faint grin on his face and a glass of wine in his hand. He slid his hazel eyes toward my sister without him moving an inch.”

Azriel stealing glances at Elain.

“‘Oh, that’s from me.’

Azriel’s face didn’t so much as shift at the words. Not even a smile as he opened the present and revealed -

‘I had Madja make it for me,’ Elain explained. Azriel’s brows narrowed at the mention of the family’s preferred healer. ‘It’s a powder to mix in with any drink.’

Silence.

Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. ‘It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.’

Silence again.

Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous.”

Elain give Azriel a sweet, thoughtful, and funny gift that made Azriel laugh so deep and joyously. That rarely happens with him.

“Azriel mastered himself enough to say, ‘Thank you.’ I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. ‘This will be invaluable.’”

Feyre had never seen Azriel’s eyes so bright. Ahhhh.

They’re most definitely friends by this point, with the other chapters hinting that the two are crushing on each other.

Chapter 22 - After the gift giving

“Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. Whether he cared about such things, I had no idea.”

Elain and Azriel stay behind, late at night talking about gardening. Even if it’s not of interest to Azriel, he wanted to be with her. So sweet!

A Court of Silver Flames

Chapter 3 - Cassian tells Nesta that Azriel will be staying with them

“Cassian said tightly, ‘He says he’d rather stay up here than at the river house.’ That made two of them. ‘Why?’

‘I don’t know. He’s Az. He likes his space.’”

Alright so let me start by saying Cassian isn’t as observant. And the readers have more insight. Who stays at the river house? Elain. Why would he want to stay at the house of wind? To avoid her. Why would he want to avoid Elain? Probably because he’s developing feelings for her.

Chapter 19 - Cassian tells Azriel about Elain and Nesta’s fight

“‘Because of the shit with Elain?’

Azriel stilled. ‘What happened to Elain?’

Azriel stilled at the thought of something happening to Elain. Honestly, enough said.

Chapter 21 - Nesta insults Elain

“‘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. Elain’s eyes brightened with pain.”

Azriel’s shadows were prepared to attack in defense of Elain. Sounds like somebody has feelings for Elain...

Chapter 22 - Azriel and Cassian discuss having children

“Cassian looked over at Az. ‘You think you’ll ever be ready for one?’ Ever be ready to confess to Mor what’s in your heart?

‘I don’t know,’ Azriel said.

‘Do you want a child?’

‘It doesn’t matter what I want.’ Distant words—ones that prevented Cassian from prying further.”

So Cassian still thinks Azriel is head over heels in love with Mor. And Azriel responds with distant words, saying it doesn’t matter what he wants. Could what he wants be Elain? The seer whose mate happens to be the son of a high lord?

He could understandably be hurt over that.

“He was still happy to be Mor’s buffer with Azriel, but there’d been a change lately. In both of them. Mor no longer sat beside Cassian, draped herself over him, and Azriel … those longing glances toward her had become few and far between. As if he’d given up. After five hundred years, he’d somehow given up. Cassian couldn’t think why.”

Azriel rarely looks at Mor. There’s been a change. And Cassian has no idea why, after 500 years, Azriel has finally given up.

Elain. Elain is the reason.

Chapter 29 - Amren suggests Elain should look for the trove

“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.’”

Azriel doesn’t want Elain to be exposed to that darkness. He’s acting protective over her. Like he really cares for her.

Chapter 30 - Azriel and Cassian discuss Feyre’s pregnancy

“‘No. But we need to summon Lucien,’ Azriel said, just a shade tightly, as if he didn’t like it one bit.”

Why wouldn’t Azriel want to summon Lucien? Perhaps he doesn’t want anything to develop between Lucien and his mate, Elain?

He’s jealous.

Chapter 44 - Elain tells the story of how Nesta stole a Duke’s heart

“‘She made ballrooms into battlefields and plotted like any general. Like you two,’ she said, nodding to Cassian, and then, a bit more shyly, to Azriel. Azriel offered her a small smile that Elain quickly looked away from.”

Elain is shy around Azriel, and quickly looks away from his smile. Sounds like a crush.

Chapter 58 - Winter Solstice

“You came,” Elain said behind her, and Nesta started, not having heard her sister approach. She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friends.”

Elain is stealthy, quiet. So much so that Nesta remarks that Azriel or his spies himself may be giving her lessons.

“Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he’d heard Elain’s sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it.

‘I was just checking on dessert,’ Elain explained as they approached the doorway and Azriel. Nesta met the shadowsinger’s stare and he gave her a nod. Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past...”

Azriel heard Elain’s laugh and wanted to see what caused it.

They looked at each other and Elain’s breath caught - something charged in that gaze. It’s obvious now that the two have developed feelings for one another.

“‘Why don’t you sit?’ [Nesta] 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.’”

“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.”

Elain and Lucien are by the fire. Nesta quickly picks up on the fact that it torments Azriel to see it. She understands why. She sees the pain in his eyes. Azriel is likely in love or close to in love with Elain and seeing her with a mate pains him. Knowing that he’s not her mate pains him.

Chapter 59 - Post Solstice

“He’d been replaced in training by a stone-faced Azriel, who was more aloof than usual and wouldn’t even give her a smile.”

What happened to put Azriel in such a bad mood?

Azriel Bonus Chapter

This is where Elain and Azriel’s feelings towards each other are confirmed.

This occurs on Winter Solstice - which explains why Azriel acted the way he did and why he “more aloof than usual.”

I’m not going to go into the Gwyn part of the chapter because, in my opinion, it’s not relevant to Azriel and Elain’s relationship.

“Too many razor-sharp thoughts sliced him any time he grew still long enough for them to strike. Too many wants and needs left his skin overheated and pulling taut across his bones.”

Azriel isn’t sleeping because of his desires...

“He was elated for his brother and yet... Azriel couldn’t stop it. The envy in his chest. Of Cassian, and Rhys.”

Azriel is jealous of Cassian and Rhys. Of their mating bonds and their connections.

“The faelights gilded Elain's unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn.

She halted, her breath catching in her throat. ‘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.

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 breath catches when she spots Azriel.

Azriel knows Elain well enough that he can tell when she’s lying.

“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.’

Az tried not to look at his scarred fingers as they took the gift. She hadn't bought her mate a present.

But she'd gotten Azriel one last year-a headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he’d slept there. Or attempted to sleep there.”

Elain is so nervous to give Azriel his gift!

Azriel looked at the gift she gave him last year every night... They both have it bad for each other.

I won’t bother to quote it, but Elain gifts Azriel another thoughtful gift - ear plugs to drown out Cassian and Nesta.

“He left the rest unspoken. 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.”

This is what Nesta observed and understood. Azriel was so tormented by Elain having a mate that he couldn’t go near her.

“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.”

Understanding between the two of them. Like she knew he liked her but they wouldn’t act on it. Why though?

“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.”

Azriel’s shadows always vanished around Mor, the woman he loved for 500 years. Now they do the same around Elain.

“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.

“He knew it was wrong, but there he was, sliding the necklace around her. Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture. Elain shivered, and he took a damn long time fastening the clasp.”

This confirms that there is sexual attraction and romantic feelings between the Elain and Azriel. She shivered. He savored the texture of her skin.

18+ below!!!

“It had never gone this far. They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching. Wrong - it was so 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.

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 under stand the shift in his scent.”

Azriel is so turned on. He needs Elain. Yet, the touching is wrong to him. Wrong because perhaps he doesn’t feel like he’s enough for her.

“He had only allowed himself these thoughts in the dead of night. Had only allowed his hand to fist his cock and think about her then, when even his shadows had gone to sleep. How that beautiful face might appear as he entered her, what sounds she'd make.”

Azriel thinks of Elain at night and pleasures himself to him.

“‘I should go,’ Elain said, but made no move to leave. ‘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.”

Eyes rolling, beg on his knees... Sounds a lot like how Rhys and Cassian react to Feyre and Nesta.

“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 his scars. Such terrible things that it was sacrilege for his fingers to touch her skin, tainting her with his presence.”

That’s why he keeps making self-deprecating comments - he doesn’t feel worthy that somebody like him (a man who tortures for his job) would touch her.

“Azriel’s hand slip 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.”

Elain and Azriel are about to kiss! That is, until Rhysand commands him to stop.

“His stomach twisted as he pulled his hand from her hair and stepped back. Forced himself to say, ‘This was a mistake.’ She opened her eyes, hurt and confusion warring there before she whispered, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘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.’”

So Rhysand stops the almost kiss and now Elain feels rejected. Azriel is devastated for having to stop and see the hurt he inflicted.

“Rhys's power rippled through the room like a dark cloud. ‘I’m talking about you, about to kiss Elain, in the middle of a hall where anyone could see you,’ he snarled. ‘Including her mate.’

Rhys is angry in this scene that Azriel may risk starting a feud between courts - the autumn court where Lucien is from (yes, Helion is his father but as of now, Beron believes himself to be Lucien’s father).

“‘What if the Cauldron was wrong?...The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it’s possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters yet the third was given to another.’ He had never before dared speak the words aloud.

Azriel questions the Cauldron. Why were my brothers chosen? Why wasn’t I chosen? Why am I never chosen? Why can’t I just be with the person I want to be with?

Azriel isn’t saying he deserves her or not. He’s questioning fate.

He’s upset. He’s angry. He’s lonely. He’s heartbroken.

“Azriel said nothing. He hadn't gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to. Rhys growled, ‘Allow me to make one thing very clear. You are to stay away from her.’

‘You can't order me to do that.’”

Azriel doesn’t want to listen to Rhysand. Azriel made his feelings clear - he can’t be ordered to stay away from Elain because of his feelings for her.

Then, Rhys again mentions the Blood Duel. That Lucien could invoke it should Elain and Azriel pursue something.

“Rhys bared his teeth. ‘So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her.’”

Azriel snarled softly.

His snarl indicates there is way more than just lust between Elain and Azriel.

So that’s it.

Azriel and Elain went from acquaintances, to friends, to crushes, to almost lovers and the bonus point of view makes it clear that they have both romantic and sexual feelings towards each other.

It set up the theme for the next book - a forbidden love story where Elain and Azriel must overcome fate itself to be with each other.

#I didn't mean to make it this long #I had sooo many things highlighted I didn't even realize #elriel #elain #elain archeron #azriel #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosaf #acosf #acotar theory #mine

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mrspettyferr · 3 years

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More on the possible Elriel Mate Theory

As I said, I’d rather see chosen love than a forced mate bond. But what if we get both?

I keep thinking about Azriel’s reactions regarding Elain and Lucien. They seem a bit...extreme. He loves Mor, and while he’s had years to cope with that, he’s really struggling here in a way he didn’t seem to with Mor.

He won’t come to family dinners. He’s staying at the House. He won’t keep tabs on Lucien, even though its his job. He can barely stand to be in the same room as Elain and Lucien.

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 as to why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but the only time the mating bond for Feysand was noticed/scented by others was when they confronted Hybern, after the mating bond was accepted. Those other times before when Tamlin and everyone else was in the same room as Feyre and Rhys it was never noticed. And yet Azriel can not only scent Elain and Lucien’s right now, but can barely stand it.

And then you have Lucien, who is super chill, but gets all snarly when Azriel and Elain go off together.

But Lucien’s attention went right to the hallway toward the back, his nostrils flaring as he scented Elain’s direction. And who she’d gone with. A low snarl slipped out of him—

“Relax,” Rhys said. “Azriel isn’t the ravishing type.”

Lucien cut him a glare.

So what if Elain does have two mates - as SJM said is possible - but only one can be fully “activated” at a time. Azriel was unconscious when Elain was turned, leaving Lucien to “claim” her as his mate first. So what if for Azriel, its more like a shadow of the bond. Which would explain him (and Feyre) questioning the Cauldron. It would explain Azriel and Elain’s near telepathic understanding they both seem to have. It would explain their magnetic pull.

If this theory is correct, it would mean until Elain rejects the bond with Lucien, it won’t fully snap into place for Azriel. Which would also mean Azriel and Elain could fall in love freely, could choose to be together, and then when the bond snaps, it’s the same that we got with Feysand. They fell in love first, before the bond. Not because of it.

EDIT: Another hint...

The ancient healer jerked her chin toward Lucien. “See what he can do. If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate.”

- -

“Did you sense anything?”

“No--I didn’t have time. I felt her, but...”

- -

Lucien murmured to me, eyes still fixed on Elain, “Should we--does she need...?

“She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien.

Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly.

“We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.”

#elriel #elain x azriel #MRSP ACOSF SPOILERS

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elriell · 3 years

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A little compilation of the amazing parallels, between former books and ACOSF, these are just a handful of the amazing throwback mentions Sarah gave us of Elriel.

A massive reason why I think Elain and Azriel will be telling their story next is that SJM is bringing back a lot of their important moments, to remind you of how far they have come and how much further they will go!

Azriel mastered himself enough to say, “Thank you.” I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. “This will be invaluable.”

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

Az ran a hand through his dark hair. “Are we …” Unusual for him to stumble with words. “Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?” “No,” I said, and meant it. Az seemed to loose a sigh of relief. Seemed to, since all but a breath of air passed from his lips.

He offered her a smile back. "I wasn't sure if I should give you your present." [...] 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.

A low snarl slipped out of him— “Relax,” Rhys said. “Azriel isn’t the ravishing type.” Lucien cut him a glare.

Azriel offered her a small smile that Elain quickly looked away from. Cassian tucked away his puzzlement. Lucien was certainly not here to snarl at any male who looked at her for too long.

“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.”

Azriel stiffened. “I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.” Az hadn’t so much as hesitated before going into the heart of Hybern’s war-camp.”

“What if”—I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

"What if the Cauldron was wrong?”

“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. I doubted it. Azriel would likely love Mor until he was a whisper of darkness between the stars.

He was still happy to be Mor’s buffer with Azriel, but there’d been a change lately. In both of them. Mor no longer sat beside Cassian, draped herself over him, and Azriel … those longing glances toward her had become few and far between. As if he’d given up. After five hundred years, he’d somehow given up. Cassian couldn’t think why.

“Azriel won. His one-hundred-ninety-ninth victory, apparently.”

Your eyes are sad, Shadowsinger. He offered her a grim smile. "I lost the snowball fight today."

Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. Whether he cared about such things, I had no idea, but I sent him a silent prayer of thanks for his kindness before Rhys and I slipped upstairs.”

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 of the longest night of the year. Amren, Mor, and Varian had finally gone to bed, but Azriel found himself lingering downstairs. [...]

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.

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?”

“The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another." He had never before dared speak the words aloud.

“Mor whirled on Azriel. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Azriel held her gaze unflinchingly. Didn’t so much as rustle his wings. “Because you would have tried to stop it. And we can’t afford to lose Keir’s alliance—and face the threat of Eris.”

Lucien, as Beron's son, has the right to demand it of you.""I'll defeat him with little effort." Pure arrogance laced every word, but it was true. "I know." Rhys's eyes flickered. "And your doing so will rip apart any fragile peace and alliances we have, not only with the Autumn Court, but also with the Sprint Court and Jurian and Vassa."

Silence again. Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous.”

“Nesta’s and led her toward the family room, where Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he’d heard Elain’s sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it.”

“You sure about that?” I asked quietly. Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea.

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.

Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

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 . . .”

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. Mor gave no indication that she noticed and curved her fingers toward me.

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.

“Why?” Not a flicker of emotion. “He is Elain’s mate.” I waited. “It would be an invasion of her privacy to track him.”

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.

[...] Azriel scowled. “I think Lucien will never be good enough for her, and she has no interest in him, anyway.”

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.

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

There are so many more feel free to add them! ♡

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #acosf #acosf spoilers #acotar #elain x azriel #azriel x elain #acomaf #acowar #myelriel #myacotar #anti elucien #tobesafe

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fawnandshadows · 3 years

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After The Ceremony - Chapter 1

Hey Guys!

This is the first chapter of a mini Elriel fanfiction that I'm working on. You can also read it on AO3

Summary: Elain and Azriel after Nesta and Cassian's Mating Ceremony.

Words: 1,847

Nesta and Cassian’s mating ceremony has long since been over, but Elain couldn’t bring herself to go back to her room. No, Elain had too much restless energy to even attempt to fall asleep tonight, and instead of tossing and turning in her bed all night, she decided she may as well be useful and start to clean up. It took only ten minutes of laying in her bed, staring at the ceiling, before silently walking downstairs to the ballroom. Nuala and Cerridwen offered to help her, and Elain knew that they wouldn’t have minded staying up all night to clean with her, but she really just wanted to be alone. So, the twins like everyone else went to bed, and Elain stayed in the ballroom of Feyre and Rhysand’s River House putting herself to use.

There was something about being alone in the middle of the night that just seemed right to Elain, when everyone else was sleeping, she didn’t have to worry about putting on a face for everyone to see. She didn’t have to plaster a smile on her face while her heart was cracking in her chest. It was a test of her resolve today, Elain thought, as she pretended, yet again, that everything was alright. It took everything in Elain, every ounce of will power and restraint, to not break down and cry in the middle of the ballroom as she saw a familiar rose necklace around somebody else's neck.

Elain wanted to cry, scream, and cry some more whenever she looked at Gwyn, or Azriel, or even Mor. Especially Mor, when Elain saw her dancing and smiling with Azriel. It just felt so wrong. It should be Elain wearing his necklace, and it should be Elain in his arms as they spun around the room completely oblivious to everyone else.

After seeing Gwyn wearing her necklace, Elain immediately turned to leave the room because all she wanted was to be alone with her feelings and not worry about someone seeing through her fake smile, but as soon as she turned she caught a glimpse of the sun and a shadow dancing across the floor.

Elain had never seen Mor and Azriel dance together, and she never wanted to, especially when watching them smile at each other ruined whatever was left of her heart. They looked so incredibly beautiful together, and Azriel was smiling down at Mor with a warmth Elain hadn’t seen since the last solstice when she made him laugh. And Mor was smiling up at Azriel with an ease Elain had never noticed between them.

Confusion danced in her chest with every other emotion she was feeling.

Elain was only forced out of her staring from a heavy arm that fell across her shoulders. She blinked and a drunk Cassian appeared in front of her face, a stupid grin strectched across his face that was the result of unadulterated love and copious amounts of wine.

“Dance with me!” Cassian pulled her onto the dance floor, snapping her out of her imminent depression and into a crowded dance floor.

Elain let out a sign and continued sweeping the surprisingly messy floor. It seemed like most of the cake she and the twins had baked for the party ended up on the marble floor somehow, but she supposed that drunken fae couldn’t be expected to be tidy. The full moon illuminated most of the room, but there were still some faelights along the wall that added just enough light for her work. After sweeping, and picking up a surprising amount of glasses from the floor, Elain collected the bouquets from the tables.

It took her months to craft five bouquets for the ceremony, one for Nesta, and four for the women standing beside her. The core of Nesta’s bouquet were red carnations, pink roses, with bursting dahlias. Every bouquet held pink acacia’s - the flower of friendship. Feyre’s bouquet consisted of blooming magnolia’s and eye-catching violets. Her own was made from magnolias, nightshade, and a sprinkle of periwinkles. Emorie’s held vibrant hyacinths with white jasmine, and Gwyn’s bouquet was crafted from lavender, morning glories, oleanders. All the flowers were grown and cultivated by Elain herself, and she felt a shimmer of pride as she looked upon them.

Elain was getting ready to move the bouquets and their vases from the ballroom into the dining room, thinking they would look nice in a room where her family spends most of their time, when a familiar shiver floated down her spine. She didn’t look up as she said, “Hello, Azriel.” She knew he would reveal himself to her.

“It’s late. You should be sleeping.” His deep voice blended in with the night, causing her knees to weaken slightly and her eyelids to relax. What she wouldn’t give to fall asleep with that voice whispering in her ear while his fingers slid against her skin. What she wouldn’t give to stay awake all night with his voice in her ears and his fingers on her skin. Elain lost count of how many times she lost herself in thought as she tried to imagine what his lips would feel like against her throat.

“So should you,” Elain said, turning her body slightly to see him walk further into the room from where he leaned against the doorway. “I thought everyone was asleep. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”

“Do you normally spend your nights cleaning up after drunken fae?” Azriel asked as he approached her. He stood maybe two feet away, but Elain could still feel the warmth radiating off his body. Another shiver made its way down her spine. Her skin felt so sensitive in his presence that it was hard to focus on anything besides him.

“Normally just Cassian,” Elain attempted to joke. Her chest felt slightly lighter as she noticed the twitch of his lips. It was a mistake looking at his lips. Her tongue brushed against her own that suddenly felt dry. “Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”

Azriel nodded. No words, no explanation, no attempt at conversation.

“You’re a lovely dancer.” Elain said, unable to stop herself, but she wanted him to know that she noticed him. She wanted him to know that she wished it was her in his arms dancing in front of everyone else.

“Thank you. You didn’t dance much at all.” Azriel noted and Elain felt the warmth of a blush on cheeks.

She gave a small shrug and said, “I was only asked by Cass, Rhys, and Lucien.”

Rhys was the first to offer her a dance, and she loved her brother-in-law too much to say no. Rhys was a lovely dancer, and she fought to keep a smile on her face under his prying eyes. Her dance with Cassian involved mostly her propping him up so that he didn’t collapse on the floor. Her dance was Lucien was non-existent.

“Why didn’t you dance with him?” Azriel asked softly. If it wasn’t the dead of night she wouldn’t have heard it.

“I don’t want to give him false hope,” Elain said, taking a fortifying breath before she continued, “It’s wretched to think you have a chance, a connection, to someone when you don’t.” She prayed to the Mother that Azriel didn’t notice her shaky breath, her racing heart, or how it took all of her bravery to say that.

In the soft glow of the faelights Elain saw a flinch run across Azriels face. It took him a moment longer than usual to school his features into their usual mask, but he couldn’t hide the pain that shimmered in his eyes.

The similarities weren’t lost on Elain. How this night resembled that of the solstice. Azriel and Elain being the only two people awake in the house. Her mate sleeping upstairs. The same crackling excitement rushing through her. The hope that maybe she would finally feel the brush of his lips against hers, and she wouldn’t have to speculate about what he tasted like anymore.

“Elain.” Azriel said her name as if it pained him.

“Why did you do it?” She whispered hotly. “Why did you give my necklace away? Why did you dance with Mor and look at her as if she were the only female in the room?” Before her bravery completely ran out she took a step forward, grabbed his hand, and placed it against her heart. “Did you feel this break tonight?”

His hand was hot against the thin cotton of her nightgown. She could just barely feel the traces of his scars. Elain wished there was nothing between them.

“Because it did,” Elain continued. “It broke every time I looked at you. It broke when I saw the necklace, and it broke when I saw how beautiful you and Mor looked.”

“Elain,” Azriel said, his voice harsh, his hand pressed further into her as if he too wished there was no nightgown separating them. “I want to, but I can’t.”

“I don’t understand,” Elain stared at his churning hazel eyes. She couldn’t help the lonesome tear that slid down her face. She was about to wipe it away when he beat her to it. His large, warm, wonderful hand brushed away her tear before cupping her cheek. Despite the pain that was growing in her chest, she would feel it all again if it meant his skin on hers. She would withstand any pain if it kept them together. “Make me understand.”

“I want to kiss you,” Azriel said. Elain felt each word as it brushed against her face. “I want to rip this nightgown from your body, lay you on the table, spread your legs open and feast until I’m drunk off the taste of you. I want to slide into you until I’m the only thing on your mind, and then I want to bring you so much pleasure you’ll never want to be away from me. And once you found your pleasure, I’d take you upstairs and do it all again. If I ever got a hold on myself I would make love to you the way you deserve.”

Elain, loving the warmth and wetness that flooded her core, felt as if she was about to combust. One tiny spark and she would erupt into flame.

“And why can’t we do that?” Elain asked quietly, as if she were afraid of ruining the moment. As if she were afraid he would slip away from her yet again.

“Rhy’s pulled rank on me.” Azriel replied. The only sign of tension was the muscle that contracted in his jaw. Elain ignored the urge to run her tongue over it.

“Huh?” Elains brain was too hazed with desire to form a proper sentence.

“He forbid it.” Azriel replied, tilting his head forward slightly, and brushing his nose against hers. The breath that floated across her face threatened to knock her over.

“Forbid what?” Elain managed to get out - too absorbed in him to think clearly.

“Us.”

Elain didn’t have time to think about what Azriel said as his lips descended on hers.

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

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ladylochan · 3 years

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I need you all to know that fate had a hand in this pairing of creative works before your eyes. It brought @elriel-oblivion and I together and when I showed her this piece I was working on, she was inspired enough to bless me with an accompanying piece of writing that is just so...so immersive and warm and magical because it will make you feel and hurt and love like the characters do.

Please read and enjoy :)

In Silence

Word count: 1k

Azriel stole through his front door after midnight, the house silent. His shadows were a storm about him, swirling like a churning sky. He crept forward on leaden feet.

The house was dark but for dim moonlight peering through the windows. He stood still in the foyer, the scent of honey reaching him. It was stronger than usual tonight - as was the quiet, like a thick cloak enveloping him.

Perhaps it was just the deafening silence in his head. It struck him like white noise, strangling all sound. Permeated his being, spreading smoky fingers through his chest before wrapping his legs. His shoulders slumped.

Sleep, his shadows whispered. But would sleep come to him? He would have to reach for it tonight, stretching until his arms ached. Yet, it would always be but a breath away.

He clenched his jaw and fisted his hands. There was no blood on his skin now; he’d washed it all off and changed his clothes before coming back here. Now he had a reason to clean up, to clear the day off him before he stepped into his home. Earlier, he’d wanted to retch at the sight of blood staining the gold band on his ring finger.

Now he was empty.

‘Azriel?’

Moonlight gilded Elain in her cobalt dress as she stood at the top of the stairs, eyes bleary. She must’ve been asleep. ‘What are you doing there?’

Even tired, her voice was like sunlight reaching through the canopy of a dense forest, its warmth trickling into him.

‘Nothing,’ he said, voice rough. Brambly. He stalked up the steps, focusing on the sunstone Elain had chosen after seeing the Dawn Court Palace for the first time. The awe and delight in her eyes at the inner glow of those stones was enough to set his heart alight that morning. He’d had no qualms about the stone becoming the basis of their home together. Even now in the darkness there was a faint luminescence emitting from the stairs, like the stone was imbued with the sun’s light at dawn, just before sunrise saturated the horizon.

And then there was Elain, brighter still. His shadows scattered, but not before their insistence to sleep.

The Siphons atop his hands sputtered and seethed, like a tempest whirled within each one. How could he sleep after what he’d seen today, done today?

She peered down at his hands, and from the twitch in her brow, he knew she read the stutter of the glow in his Siphons. Sometimes he had to resist the urge to hide his hands, to remind himself that Elain had chosen him despite himself, his darkness - because of himself and his darkness she’d told him many times. He still couldn’t believe he was worthy of her; she’d had a mate and still she picked Azriel. Gave her heart to Azriel.

She had not balked in doing so. She did not balk now.

When she looked into his eyes, her gaze was clear and open. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘No.’ His voice was bleak.

She nodded, twining her fingers through his. Warmth, honey and placid, seeped into him where their skin touched. He shuddered as she led them into their room, to the bed where she sat. The bed was still made. Had she been waiting for him?

When he too was seated, she glanced at him. Her hand squeezed his and she said, feather-light, ‘You don’t have to tell me yet. But I’m here, Azriel.’

Her eyes picked across his face, at all the nuances he could never hide from her. His stony expressions were impenetrable to everyone else. But Elain saw through him, saw through the tightness of his jaw and the weight in his eyes. Or perhaps he let the leash he held on himself slip just a little: just for her.

Whatever she found in his face softened her own. ‘I love you,’ she said. Her gaze found his again, guileless as ever, and she whispered, ‘I love you, Azriel.’

His shadows could be bleeding from him, he could be a shadow in and of itself, and she would still love him as he loved her. His throat tightened. Not breaking eye contact, he took a deep breath, let it out through his nose. Again.

He didn’t have to hide from her.

So he sank, his head dropping to lean against her chest. His shadows seeped from him, willing him to relax. Her heartbeat echoed through him, a steady beat placating his tired mind, and his arms reached up to hold her. He may not be able to reach sleep tonight, but he could reach his wife. And she would not let go either.

‘I love you,’ she said, serenity threading through her words, so beautiful that he looked up into her calm face and kissed her deeply, the purity of her lips on his banishing that stifling, sonorous silence from earlier, leaving behind embers of endearment and devotion.

‘I love you, too,’ he rasped. ‘I love you so much, Elain.’ He released a shuddering breath against her mouth.

She smiled faintly and set her hands on the back of his head, leaning her forehead against his. ‘I know.’

Her fingers played with his hair and neck, their touch sending a wave of drowsiness over him. He dropped his head to her chest again, her heartbeat a quiet force in his mind, gently coaxing the tensions and consciousness from his bones and muscles.

‘Sleep,’ she whispered.

He closed his eyes, the power in his Siphons smoothing out once again, the storm finally setting to a clear sky. The Siphons must now be the same colour as her dress, the same colour as they were the day he bought that dress for its striking match to his own jewels.

‘Sleep,’ she said. He lowered his arms to hold her waist. She pulled him with her as she lay down, his body easing into her side. And with his head cradled under her chin, in somniferous silence he finally slept.

(Art by me. Please do not repost.)

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #azriel x elain #elain x azriel #acotar #acosf #acowar #acomaf #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #acotar fanart #pro elain #pro azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #my art #pro elriel

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nikethestatue · 3 years

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Spy Games

Elriel Month - Day 3

Spying

Spying Lessons

Elain, the pretty, polite, courteous sister, who spoke well and moved gracefully, was also one who was never considered with any seriousness by anybody. Not her mother, not their weak, gentle father, not the imperious, sharp-tongued Nesta, or the self-assured, determined Feyre. However, she was a merchant’s daughter, and she was as sharp-eyed, as Nesta was sharp-tongued.

She inherited the trait from their father--he was always able to spot a deal, or a weakness, a loophole and he used it to his full advantage when making deals. She watched him, and learned how to use her words, how to compliment and smile, how to appear innocent and helpless, while seeking favors and looking to get what she wanted. It worked. It worked with everyone--it worked with Nesta, worked with their servants (when they had them), and when they didn’t, and had nothing, Elain always managed to charm someone at the market for an extra apple, a couple of bread rolls, or a swath of cloth. Even Lord Nolan was not immune to her charms, and even though there were better offers from others, he encouraged Greyson to court Elain, despite her family's ‘reputation’. Elain loved Greyson, but she also watched and noticed. She saw groves of ash trees, the number of sentries patrolling the walled estate, and how many guard dogs there were. She didn’t even try, but she noticed...and counted...and remembered.

Nuala was good. Smooth and discrete, she’d never be suspected of keeping tabs on Amren. Though Amren was a vengeful Angel of a young god in her previous life, and she probably knew what Nuala was doing. Yet, Nuala was not so good as to suspect Elain. Because Elain knew as well. It came as a surprise, but it was apparent to Elain that Nuala closely monitored Amren, as well as Varian, when they were around.

They were making lemon cakes in the kitchen--Elain and the twins. Baking and cooking--many assumed that that’s what Elain was good for--the kind, tidy, domestic Elain. What no one, except for one person, was privy to was that these chores quieted the roaring in Elain’s head. They silenced the visions, cleared the pounding in her skull, gave her a sense of normalcy, even if for only a little while.

“What do you think Varian reports to his High Lord?” the question startled the twins and they exchanged quick looks.

Elain’s face remained placid, as she busied herself with grating lemon zest. “Do you think they laugh?” she chuckled. “Our court is dramatic, to be sure.”

The twins were silent.

“Is it wise though,” she continued, uninterrupted, “to have a representative of another Court so closely entwined with the affairs of the Night Court?”

“The High Lord trusts Prince Varian,” said Cerridwen, her voice neutral.

“Perhaps.”

Elain stirred the zest into the custard and there was silence, the twins assuming that the conversation was over.

“Does Azriel?” she suddenly asked.

They stared.

“Does Azriel trust Varian?” she pressed.

“The lord,” began Nuala, but Elain interrupted. “Not High Lord,”

“Lord Azriel,” corrected Nuala, “does what he must to keep the Night Court safe.”

That explained everything.

“Could Azriel use another pair of eyes and ears?” Elain didn’t even know where the offer came from. Perhaps, it stemmed from the desire to be useful, to offer something of herself that so few knew that she even possessed. She turned to the twins and stared them down, her gaze unflinching.

“Teach me,” she pleaded. “Teach me what you know. What and how you do it. Please.”

“Lord Azriel may not approve,” countered Cerridwen softly.

“Let’s not tell him,” whispered Elain,

“Lord Azriel will know.”

“Eventually. I am not asking you to lie to him,” she added quickly, sensing that this was the reason for their hesitation. “Just don’t tell him. Not yet. Teach me, a little something, and then I’ll decide if it’s for me. Please. I,”

“Fine,” said Nuala. Cerridwen gave her a silent look of admonishment and surprise, but did not argue. Perhaps that would come later. “We’ll teach you the way he taught us.”

“Yes!” Elain’s brown eyes sparkled with excitement. Goodness, she hadn’t felt this excited in….well, forever.

The lessons were not what she expected, but she did not question them.

There were no weapons, or peeking through peepholes, or breaking locks.

At first, it was a little bit boring even. Odd requests, such as making conversations with random faeries--in the park, on the street, at the markets. The twins would point out a fae and order Elain to go and start a conversation. It lasted for weeks, and she even grew frustrated, thinking that they were just humoring her and these ‘lessons’ were nothing but a game. Until one day, Nuala told her to obtain specific information. She pointed at an elderly male Fae and requested, “Approach. Come back with the following information--did he serve in the first War, what rank, does he have children, how many, and what is his favourite breakfast?”

“What?” Elain stared in confusion, but Nuala’s face remained inscrutable.

“Is there a problem?” asked Nuala. Her tone of voice...well, the tone was very much Azriel’s.

Elain shook her head and said, “no”, before crossing the street and approaching the male fae.

The realization that she could do this was thrilling. At once, she understood why she spent all those weeks approaching and making conversations with all those fae. She found ways, ways to ingratiate herself to them, to mark something small, but unique to each one, and then weave a connection around that tiny tidbit. It worked every time.

The elderly male fae had a small, but noticeable limp. This was Elain’s opening. He was hauling a basket of groceries, and she approached gently, offering help. Oh, he couldn’t possibly trouble such a pretty lady. And she was a High Fae to boot. No, no, thank you, he could manage. Not a problem at all, she was walking that way anyway. What was he making for dinner with all those vegetables? Oh, soup? Did the wife send him to the market? Oh, a widower? So sorry. Were there children to assist? Three? That’s good that they helped out…

“He was a Captain in the Third Legion during the first War. He is a widower, with three children--two male, and one female. Three grandchildren as well. He usually eats leftovers for breakfast, because he is too lazy to cook, but his favorite breakfast are almond croissants from the Brea Bakery,” reported Elain.

A small, satisfied smile touched Nuala’s lips.

So the lessons continued. She was ordered to obtain more detailed information, and in places which were harder to access. She did. Sometimes, she failed, but rarely.

In addition, Cerridwen began training her on walking.

Walking?

Walking.

“Make your presence unknown,” she explained and Elain only nodded. Sure, she would learn to walk, if that’s what was required. She learned how to roll her feet in such a manner that they were completely silent with every step that she took. Learned how to notice her own body, its presence, and the space that it occupied. And learned how to make it unknown. How to melt into shadows, stand near someone and have them be unaware of her, sneak quietly into rooms and spaces. It took a month, maybe longer. Meanwhile, she learned other tricks. How to swap papers, how to pull documents with a flick of her wrist, how to read upside down (very difficult).

“Could you take this to Lord Azriel please,” Cerridwen handed Elain a folder.

“Um...yes, of course,” Elain took the folder, a bit surprised that Cerridwen couldn’t deliver it herself, but by the time she was going to ask, Cerridwen had disappeared.

First things first--Elain didn’t know where Azriel was.

The River House was enormous, so she started with Rhysand’s office, but it was empty. She peeked out into the garden, but only saw baby Nyx and his nanny, who was attempting to contain Nyx on a picnic blanket, and failing. Elain smiled. Nyx crawled like a fiend and made an aggressive beeline towards the fluffy peonies. No doubt, they’d be trampled and pulled soon enough. Especially, if the nanny wouldn’t take her eyes off the handsome delivery male who was standing by the gate and flirting with her.

Elain closed her eyes. Smell. Sense. They haven’t gotten that far in their training yet, but Azriel’s scent--oh, she knew it well. The most delicious scent to ever hit her nostrils. The one scent that she craved and hungered for above all others. Even in this huge house, she could isolate Azriel’s scent, as it rose above all others, at least for her. The strongest trail led to Azriel’s bedroom, which was unsurprising, even if he did not spend much time here anymore. He and Rhysand met to discuss matters of state, and then there were the mandatory ‘family dinners’ that Azriel attended. They used to be obligatory, but after the last Solstice, they became mandatory, by order of the High Lord.

No, Azriel wasn’t in his bedroom. She followed the scent down the hallway, past the drawing room, then up the side stairs. Ah. She should’ve guessed. There was a terrace that overlooked the garden that Azriel favored. Sometimes, she thought that he observed her from there, when she tangled with weeds and seeds. But that couldn’t be. Not after the fiasco during the last Solstice and him pulling away from her with no explanation. A momentary lapse of reason on his part.

She spotted the spread of his wings. A smile touched her lips. How things were different before, when he was so comfortable around her. When he’d come and sit with her in the garden, sunning his wings, doing his work, both of them enjoying each other’s company without the need to talk. All of that somehow crashed and burned, and she didn’t know why and how to bring that intimacy back.

“Azriel,” she said, “Cerr,”

Azriel flinched and whipped his head to her. His eyes blew wide at the sight of her, standing in the doorway.

“Elain...Phhh, you startled me….” he muttered hoarsely.

And the Spymaster of the Night Court shifted with discomfort.

She had surprised him.

“Sorry,” she murmured and handed him the folder. “I apologize. Cerridwen asked me to give this to you.”

He was still staring at her, as if processing what had occurred. His hazel eyes raked over her body, settling on her feet for a few moments. It was like he was trying to discern how she managed to approach him so silently.

“Umm, thank you,” he said and opened the folder. It was empty.

Neither one said anything to each other, and Elain turned and stepped back into the house, her cheeks flushed.

As she hurried down the hall, Cerridwen and Nuala both appeared in front of her, grins plastered on their lovely angular faces.

“What?!” she snapped.

The grins widened.

“There was nothing in the folder!” she exclaimed, irritated.

“No,” agreed Cerrdiwen. “But you passed the first phase of your training.”

“You surprised Lord Azriel.”

#elriel #elrielmonth #elrielmonth21 #azriel #azriel and elain #elain archeron #spymaster #elain x azriel #elain x nuala x cerridwen #nuala and cerridwen #elriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction

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rabbitlover1027 · 3 years

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As mentioned before, I enjoy all the acotar ships. I found this prompt [Kiss it Better?] on a elriel post, therefore it's an Elriel story.

Elain has moved out on her own and finds it too quiet in apartment. Walking Velaris she thinks she might see a shadow moving.

Elain wondered what else was different in Velaris. Certainly back in the human lands she would not have been safe walking the streets after midnight, but here? Elain was pretty sure she could stay out until the sun came up and would still be safe. What else had she not learned staying with Feyre and Rhysand? Elain owed them for many things, but was still glad she moved out on her own. Her apartment was small and beautiful and clean. Nothing like the terrible one Nesta had, thank Gods.

Elain did not regret moving out, but sometimes her apartment felt too empty. At Feyre and Rhysand's there had always been someone to talk to. So tonight surrounded by the quiet, Elain grabbed her coat and slipped out. She passed late night diners and drunken couples giggling as they held hands. She watched as the lights of the Rainbow district bobbed on top of the Sidra's swirling currents. She listened as songs played and friends shouted parting words to each other.

Elain soaked in everything she saw. She was glad she had come out. Staring out at the water, she could swear she saw something flicker in the corner of her eye. Saw a shadow twist and then freeze. Perhaps there were things she had managed to learn about faerie life.

Elain waited, pretending she was still watching the water, but no other shadows moved. She decided she had been wrong. Azriel's shadows had not been watching her. Then she headed home.

She would never admit it, but Azriel was a part of the reason she insisted on getting her own place. His role within the court meant he was often at the river house for work. Elain could still feel the hot shame that engulfed her everytime he came to the house and refused to acknowledge her past a clipped hello. After the first few times he pointedly ignored her, she started staying in her room when she knew he was coming. She would stay there until she knew he was gone. In her own apartment, she was able to avoid his painful dismissal of her.

Her apartment building was only three stories tall, made of gray stone. The entrance was raised from the street, several steps high to a big windowed door underneath a single faelight. In the middle of the stairs was a thick metal railing Elain would drag her hand along whether she was going up or going down. She stood at the top of the stairs, under the light, her hand on the railing, and gazed back out over the street. She was happy here on her own. She liked this new little life she was slowing carving out for herself. She smiled.

“Hello, Elain.”

Startled and frightened, Elain pushed out in the direction of the voice. Her quick arms shoved the noise away from her as hard as she could. Whoever had said her name slipped past the first step and before they could catch their balance, hit the railing and tumbled down. They slumped to the sidewalk by the bottom step face down. Wings up. Sweet Mother, Azriel.

Elain rushed down the steps. She dropped to her knees and put a hand on his back, careful to avoid touching his wings. She was mad and relieved and worried too. Had she really just shoved Azriel down the stairs?

Azriel groaned, “Gods, Elain.”

“Azriel! What are you doing here?” Elain hissed at his ear. “You scared me!”

Azriel pushed his face off the ground. He shook his head.

“My shadows saw you by the river. I was waiting to make sure you got home safely. You weren't going inside, I thought I would say hi instead of lurking in dark.” He moved so he sitting, facing her.

She looked at him and sucked in a breath. Before she had time to think about it, she had slipped her hand on to his cheek. She caught herself, embarrassed, right before she slid her thumb over his lips.

“I’m sorry. Your face, it’s scratched. The corner of your mouth. I'm sorry.” Elain wasn't certain if she was sorry her push had caused the scratch or if she was sorry for touching him, for trying to soothe his broken skin. Azriel's hand was on hers before she could pull away from his face.

“Elain.”

“I was scared. You scared me. I'm sorry,” she babbled. Elain couldn't look at him anymore. She had tried so hard move on from whatever it was that had happened between them and not even five minutes into seeing him she was curled up practically knee to knee with him on the ground and she'd touched his face. Almost ran her thumb across his lip. She tried to pull her hand back to her lap, away from him, but Azriel tightened his grip holding her hand against his face.

“Elain,” he repeated, teased. She met his eyes. Stopped tugging her hand towards her lap. He squeezed her fingers softly.

“Yes?”

Azriel's eyes sparkled a little. The non scratched corner of his mouth went up in mischievous grin. “You could…” he trailed off, but was still grinning wickedly at her. There was none of the Azriel she'd seen since Winter Solstice, this was the Azriel who had made her smile, made her stare a little too long, made her start to think what ifs.

“I could what?” she leveled back.

“Kiss it better?” he dared.

She cocked her head at him in disbelief. She had spent sleepless nights reliving the sharp pain in her chest when he stepped back and told her everything was a mistake. And now here he was daring her to kiss him. It fueled a small anger in her, if Azriel wanted to show up in the middle of the night and play games, then she would rise and meet him. Beat him.

Breaking his gaze, she leaned forward and gently pressed her mouth to the corner of his. Everything she refused to let herself think about anymore roared up to surface at the contact. Any thought of playing games was gone. Her eyes still closed, she rested her forehead to his. Breathed him in.

“Elain.” His voice was softer than she'd ever heard it. His other hand twisted thru her hair and he turned, meeting her lips.

Azriel kissed her softly. Then he hesitated and Elain realized he waiting on her. Waiting to see if she wanted this. And she did.

Elain leaned into Azriel even more, and she met his mouth with hers. Nipped his lower lip playfully between her teeth before he ran his tongue over her lip. She met his mouth over and over.

Azriel let go of her hand and and wrapped her up with his arm, pulling them closer. She could feel the warmth from his body seeping into hers. Felt his fingers dig deeper into her back when she loosed a small moan.

Azriel lifted her, moved her til she was tilted back, propped up by his arm behind her. The fingers in her hair traced down her neck, traced her collar bone thru the open top of her coat. Elain found her free hand wrapping over Azriel's shoulder, pulling him down to her mouth. She wanted more of his mouth on hers, more of his body on hers. She felt the flush of her cheeks when he moved his mouth to her neck and then his hand was inside her coat running down her side. He stopped his hand on her hip, and she could feel as the sensation inside her continued without his hand down to her core.

Elain curled up towards Azriel, started to tip her head backwards more to offer more of her neck to him, and the back of her head tapped lightly against something hard. She opened her eyes. The stars above startled her. Azriel had her wrapped up, his arm shielding her back from the sharp stone edge of the stairs to her apartment. She pressed a warning hand hard into his chest, pushed him back to make him look at her.

“We're on the sidewalk,” she offered weakly. She could see his chest moving in the night. She scrambled up, cursed her shaky legs, and clutched the railing of the steps for support. Azriel stood up beside her, closer than he ever did in the daylight of Rhysand's many houses. He reached up and pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. She traced her thumb over his mouth, where the skin already healed from its scratch with the magic fae had in them.

She looked to the door to her building and back to Azriel. She bit her lip. Shook the hair that had no doubt splayed across the steps moments before.

“I don't really know what I’m doing.” she confessed.

“It’s ok,” Azriel was looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing in the world. “If you're not too tired, I know a place where we can still get a cup of tea.”

Elain nodded, smiling shyly, and Azriel pulled her hand around his arm. She leaned into the warmth of him so close beside her and found a little part of her thrilled when he didn't pull away, when he responded by placing a hand on top of hers and then lead her past her block back out into the night.

#acotar #elriel #elain archeron #Azriel #a court of thorns and roses #but damn i love azriel #azriel the spymaster #pro whoever elain wants #pro whoever azriel wants #regardless of how you feel about elucien there is never enough lucien #this fanfic was harder than i thought it would be

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bookstaninthesoul · 3 years

Text

Thanks To Her

WORD COUNT: 1.088

SUMMARY: Azriel wants to confess to Elain and receives help from his mother

Okay, first of all, I want to apologize for any grammatical mistakes. English is not my native language, so I did it in Portuguese (my native language) and then I translated to English. That was my first fanfic. So I hope you like it!

Elriel Month Day 1: Rosehall

Azriel was desperate. What would he do?

It was going to be days since Azriel was trying to confess his feelings to Elain, but he didn't know how! He thought about giving her flowers, but he already gave them every day. He thought about buying jewelry, but it would be very futile.

He wanted to do something special for her, to her. But he didn't know exactly what.

They had been friends for so long that he had done everything he could during those years. Staying in the garden with Elain for the afternoon until the sun went down was one of his favorite pastimes. But he wanted to do something new, something special.

He thought and thought and thought ... but nothing came into his mind.

"Grrrr." he roared, for the twelfth time in 5 minutes.

"Why are you so angry, Azriel?" Rhysand asked. His ears were asking for help of his friend's sounds. "Something happened?"

"No, don't worry. I'm just in a bad mood." he said. He was in need of help, but Rhys wouldn't be the person to ask for it.

"Okay then." Rhys said, shrugging. He knew his brother was lying, but he would not interfere in his problems.

The two continued their work while Azriel continued to think about what to do.

After passing the reports to Rhys, he flew to his house. He was tired and in a bad mood. "How wonderful!" snorted again. He didn't want to take out his frustrations on his mother.

He arrived home, opened the door and found his mother sitting by the fireplace.

"Son, what happened?" she barely looked at his son and knew something was wrong. Damn maternal instinct.

"I'm fine, mom." he said. He didn't want to fill her with his worries.

"Don't lie to me, boy. I know when you need something." okay, Azriel has come to truly hate the maternal instinct.

But he needed help. What harm would it do to ask his mother? He decided to do so.

"Okay, I really need help with something. I'm in love with a female. I love her with all my being and I wanted to confess to her, but I don't know what I do to make the moment special. Any ideas?" Azriel spoke all at once, barely breathing in the process in which he recounted a summary of his concerns.

"Got it. Have you thought about giving her flowers?" his mother asked.

"Yes, I already thought. But I give her flowers every day, I need something new. No flowers, no jewelry or chocolates." he said, already discarding all the ideas he had had that his mother would probably quote.

"So, then bring her here!" she said, calmly and directly.

"What?" Azriel was confused. Bring her to Rosehall?

"Bring her here. Prepare dinner, show her the house and at the same time having fun, confess your love for her. It's simple." the woman spoke calmly.

"But ... what about you?"

"I will go out during dinner time, then I will return to the house. It will be all right, son. Trust me. I will help you prepare everything."

Azriel relaxed his shoulders and smiled.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

"Let's go!" Azriel said to Elain, taking her hand.

"I'm anxious. What do you want to show me so badly?" she said, excited by the mystery. Azriel had arrived in the garden and told her that there was a surprise for her.

"You'll see! Are you ready?" he asked, picking her up to take off.

"Yea!"

They flew to the place, with Elain's hair dancing in the winds and Azriel with extreme happiness on his face.

They arrived at the place and entered the house, the girl already asking what the place was.

"This is Rosehall. It is a very important place for me and I wanted to bring you here. I want to have dinner and have fun with you, so I decided to choose this place" he replied, with a wide smile on his face.

Elain had never seen him smile so much.

"Oh, I loved it! Come on, I'm hungry!" she said, causing the male beside her to laugh.

They went in, settled down and enjoyed the dinner made by Azriel and his mother.

When it was time for the big moment, he felt more nervous than ever. His hands were shaking, but he tried not to show it. The chill in the belly established its place as he looked at his beloved and began the speech.

"Elain I ..." he was interrupted before he could finish.

"I'm in love with you!" shot Elain, unable to contain her voice. That dinner gave her the courage to finally open her heart.

"What?" Azriel was paralyzed. Did he hear what he really heard?

"I love you, Azriel. I love you for a long time. That you invited me into this house and spent that time with me, made me tell you how I really feel about you. I can't help it. I know we're friends, but I couldn't stop these. You are the most amazing male I have ever met, I shouldn't be surprised that I fell in love with you. " she said, her cheeks flushed.

Azriel was in shock. So it means... that Elain had feelings for him too?

"Elain ..." started to speak. But he was interrupted again.

"I know that ... I shouldn't. But I couldn't help it. I also know that you may not respond to my feelings, but I want you to know that it's okay. I don't want it to affect our friendship." she said, again. Now, redder than a tomato.

"Elain, can I speak?" said Azriel, laughing at the girl's despair. She was so cute!

"You can ..." she flinched.

"I love you too." he said, laughing. The moment was so light that Elain's whole body calmed down.

"You... love me too?" she asked, biting her fingertip.

"Of course I do! I brought you here to confess to you, but you were quicker." he said, still smiling.

She couldn't help herself. She jumped onto Azriel's lap quickly and hugged him tightly. The two laughing with happiness while they were protected by that bubble of love.

"I said it would be all right." a strange voice said, behind them.

"Mom? Are you back?" Azriel asked, still with his arms around the girl.

"You guys have been holding each other longer than you think." she said laughing. How cute they were.

"Lady?" Elain asked, embarrassed. "Are you Azriel's mother?"

"Yes, I am, dear. Nice to meet the girl who makes my boy daydream." she held out her hand to Elain, who took it and smiled.

"The pleasure is mine, madam." she replied, smiling.

Azriel then laughed again and pulled his mother into the embrace. After all, everything had come true because of her.

If you liked it, please reblog it. It helps me a lot! ♡

#pro elriel #elriel fanfiction #elriel fanfic #elriel #elrielmonth #elrielmonth21 #pro elain #elain acotar #elain archeron #pro azriel #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel × elain

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riddlecrux · 3 years

Text

Historical AU

Day 7 of Elriel Month!

Summary: Blue and violet material rustled as she stared at three stars and three mountain peaks which sparkled in the daylight. The place that called her home. Velaris knights galloped through the forest with grace and dignity. At the front of the formation, she spotted him. Note: This is a snippet of my upcoming multi chapter Medieval AU Elriel fanfic!

There was talk in the town.

A gossip about one particular knight was spreading among ladies like a wildfire, fast and unforgiving. Whenever she went out, for a trip to the market or tailor, the words were often hushed and clipped. As if saying them outright and loud would bring the said person stumbling through the door - unannounced and feared. It was as if a shadow of a knight lived among the elites, constantly watching their lips, ready to strike from the darkest parts of the room. She had thought that gossiping was a rather boring thing to do, especially during the daytime - she much preferred spending her free time gardening and walking through the nearby forest.

The solitude she yearned for was always waiting for her, embracing her in silence and wisps of spring wind. A book under her arm, the hem of her skirt tucked between her fingers as she moved through the green maze with a blush covering her pale skin. It was something completely different from the small, claustrophobic ballrooms filled with perfumed guests and men trying to catch themselves a woman, a wife, a person that they were going to tame. A woman, later barely a doll. Empty shell filled with her husband's desires, placid and neat. Never free, never wild - an object that men love to present as a trophy.

Elain huffed, long steps halting as golden brown tresses slipped from her modest braid - her blue dress wrinkled and dirty, the mud sprinkled even her undergarments as she maneuvered through the forest road. She glanced behind her, a nervous tick, and with a soft frown on her forehead, she leaned against the rough tree. Few flowers slipped from her hand as she closed her eyes, breathing the scent of nature which coaxed her troubled mind.

She knew that the day would come, sooner or later - she prayed that her resolve and kindness would prevent her from marriage without love but naive as she was she knew that it was only a matter of time before her mother chose her a fiancé. Preferably rich one, from a distinguished family with a house close to the city market and church. Those arguments were vain and so ill-matched in Elain's opinion. She didn't care for money; she wanted to be loved. More than anything else she wanted to be chosen because of her personality - not too extravagant, timid, and simple as her father once said. Nesta always had a spark in her, steel that made men tremble before her, a woman made for a king or a duke. Her older sister was always the example of everything Elain wasn't, yet the day before Nesta's arranged marriage it was her older, wiser, dutiful sister that ran away - leaving a letter in which she chose love over duty.

I do not wish to be shackled by a man that does not deserve me. Women are much more than cattle you breed to sell. I part with a heavy heart, not because of my decision but because of the future of my sisters.

Elain had read the letter thousands of times, tracing letters with her fingers - remembering Nesta's coldness and silent form of love. She envied her older sister. If she was more courageous, less soft she would, perhaps, repeat her sister's steps.

Sighing through her parted lips her head hit the tree behind her. I do not wish to be shackled by a man that does not deserve me. She murmured under her breath like a prayer staring at the empty road that led to her little town. Gripping the old book by its edges Elain willed herself to pray. Pray that the man her mother had chosen would not like her. Pray that her resolve would show her the correct way, an answer to her broken promise. Pray that…

Her eyes opened at the sound of horses coming down the road. Glancing behind her cover she saw four riders, all dressed in black robes - all of them being knights. Her grip on the branch tightened as her mouth parted once again at the sight of a very well-known flag that was flowing in the air behind them. Blue and violet material rustled as she stared at three stars and three mountain peaks which sparkled in the daylight. The place that called her home. Velaris knights galloped through the forest with grace and dignity. At the front of the formation, she spotted him.

A knight dressed in black armor, iron spikes coming from his shoulder pads, and even sharper ones adorning his helmet. His gauntlets tightly clenched around his horse’s harness, dark and utterly beautiful. The breastplate was wide and devoid of any ornaments safe for three stars on each side of his armor. On his left side an extraordinary sword. Its majestic hilt covered in small, blue gems which were reflecting sunshine as he moved on the massive, gorgeous stallion. It was her gasp that made him snap his neck in her direction - she quickly scrambled and hid behind the tree wishing that he hadn't seen her. As the sounds of hooves started to ease with their every step, Elain slowly crept from her hiding position. Her heart beating so loud that the bird sitting on one of the branches fled from its resting spot.

The talk of the town - The Scarred Knight, came just in time for the tournament.

3 YEARS EARLIER

The summer was hot and stuffy.

Elain shot a quick glance behind her shoulder as she ran through the crowded streets of the town. She could hear Lucien's screams and his brothers’ laughter, however, she didn't stop. Her feet adorned with leather booties moved even faster, as long as she lost the gingers she would be safe. She turned right, stumbled because of the moving wagon, and sprinted towards cathedral alley - people were staggering when she turned in another street, her hair falling from her up-do in waves of molten gold. The freedom in her lungs was addictive. She felt like a bird, freed from its beautiful cage that it was trapped in for its whole life.

Her feet hit the muddy ground as she scanned moving peasants and with a resolution on her delicate features, she whirled around and ran straight towards the training grounds. One step, two steps...

She gasped when she collided with a solid body, her feet getting caught in the lace of her dress, making her fall on her backside with a loud thud. Her forehead was hurting and she could swear that the world around her wavered as she finally decided to glance at the reason for her fall. It was a knight, a tall and very deadly one. His violet eyes scanned her for injuries and with a slow sigh, he presented her a gloved hand.

"My lady," his sensual voice rang in her ears as she gracefully - at least she hoped so, gripped his fingers and stood up. Her beige dress was dirty and ruffled at its edges. Her mother would have scolded her till her calves were raw from the beating. The sight of her so utterly ungracious and dishonorable would shake her so much that Elain would have had to beg her on her knees to stop. Nevertheless, as she looked at her skirt she saw few droplets of blood and with a frown, she deduced that she, in fact, sliced her palm when she tried not to stumble.

Snapping her attention back to the knight in front of her, she slowly bowed and smiled. Her curls created a halo around her heart-shaped face when she finally looked him straight in his eyes. He was tall, well built and had brown skin. It was a beautiful color, she mused trying not to think how handsome he was.

"Sir Knight, pardon my intrusion," she cocked her head as another knight appeared in her peripheral vision. He was even taller and bigger than the one from before. His long hair flew on wisps of wind as he chuckled seeing her state and dirt on her dress. One dark brow rose with a flicker of amusement in his bright eyes.

"It's a rather peculiar sight to behold," he murmured as another wave of deep laughter erupted from his throat. She could feel redness coming up on her cheeks and with a swift movement, she ducked her chin down. Her mother would have simply perished if she saw her right now. What a disgrace for her perfect family.

"Cassian, the lady is hurt," she still didn't dare to look up, and when the newcomer left as quickly as he appeared she stole a small glance in the direction of soft sounds.

On her right, the training grounds were almost empty safe for a knight in black armor, kneeling on the ground. His hands were bare and visible to her eyes - scars, horrible and painful ones adoring his long fingers and gentle palms were a stark contrast to his dark attire. However, what caught her initial attention was the way he was slowly but surely trying to feed a stray kitten that aimlessly wandered here. His kneeling person, sharp against the tiny creature barely visible to the human eye. Two oddities coexisting in that nanosecond of time seemed to stop for her as she devoured the sight of this blindingly pure kindness.

"My lady," she heard the other man from somewhere far away. Her tunnel vision focused on that one person, his act of gentleness amidst the blazing sunlight, and… the way his scarred fingers were trembling while he placed all of his weight on his knees. As if he was scared and ashamed of their appearance, even before that small animal hissing in his direction. "My lady?" Her doe eyes found violet ones and with a soft gasp, she came to her senses.

"Please do forgive me for my ignorance," her voice shook and she hated herself for that. For that slight hint of distress slipping through the cracks of her perfectly molded mask of courtesy. The knight rose a dark brow and with frivolous joy watched her behavior as if he had solved a mysterious puzzle. Deep down in her chest, her heart sang an unknown song that made her spiral even further into herself.

"Azriel!" A sharp command slashed the air as she whipped her head at the source of that loud noise. The violet-eyed knight bowed elegantly as the kneeling man slowly stood up, even taller than previously acquainted knights, and slowly made a way towards them. His armor was loud, yet mesmerizing - she felt her bloodstream tickle, surge as the earth shattered under her legs with the force of warmth and longing she suddenly felt. An intake of breath caught in her lungs made her frozen as foreign yet so well-known hazel eyes stopped on her person. As if she had dreamt about them, as if they were forever imprinted inside her like a burst of thousands of stars. The slits in his helmet allowed her to see his long eyelashes, dark and dangerous, as he inclined his greetings.

"Sir Knight," she breathed out, like a bird singing for its designed mate. The knight's burning gaze left her shaking - as if her soul suddenly came down on earth and wished for a moment of utmost closure.

"The lady is hurt," the shorter one supplied glancing between both of them with a smirk. "Please attend her while I gather supplies," and with a swift nod, he left both of them alone. She supposed that time became only a fraction of surrounding her world when Azriel only stared at her, his scarred hands tucked behind him as if the sight of them might have somehow offended her.

"Sir Knight," her lips parted with a silent echo of yearning. "You have truly beautiful hands," his eyes widened, a golden hue covering his irises as his armor rumpled with the stretch of his muscles.

"It's a far-fetched compliment, my lady, yet I'm declaring my thanks," he blinked as she fought with an overwhelming feeling dancing in her chest. He was so close to her and yet she felt as if he was a whole ocean away. Maybe her soul, the one who often whispered in her ear about soulmates, tricked her and made her a fool. Maybe because of that she wanted to say something, anything that could last - to make him remember her, a wild girl with flowers in her hair.

"It's not," she urged and let herself smile. "For what I have seen, Sir, you are gentle-natured," a gust of wind ruffled her tresses and when she tried to fight with them, scarred digits arrived next to her ear.

"And you, my lady, are indisputably a spring ready to conquer the already fading winter," he whispered urgently. Her heart trembled at his words, it was as if he had spoken to her spirit, to the gaping wound of her hidden longings and dreams. As if he had known her, right now and all these centuries before. The time was crashing into her like waves of that unknown feeling that overcame her, however before she could answer the loud yell of her name startled her like a deer.

"I must," her ragged breathing stopped when she saw red-haired men stumbling onto training grounds. Wide-eyed and breathless she stole the last glance at her starry-eyed soulmate and turned around. Even if all laws of this world told her to stay, screamed at her to turn around to see the universe crashing inside those hazel eyes, she didn't.

She left him there, a tray of sunlight and starlight glittering behind her as he watched her till she became only a speck of dust in the blazing heat.

#elrielmonth #elrielmonth21 #elriel #pro elriel #elriel fic #elain x azriel #azriel and elain

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enchantmentandshadows · 3 years

Text

Elriel Month | Day 11: Drunk and in Love

WORD COUNT: 2255

CONTENT WARNING: NONE

THEME: ANGST, FLUFF

SONG SUGGESTION: “DYING FOR YOU” - OTTO KNOWS

He cradled her face in his hand, his thumb stroking her cheek softly as he said, “I see you, Elain, you’re impossible to overlook."

Azriel walked through the house, his eyes scanning, frantically searching for a head full of brown curls and listening for her lilting laugh. He’d made it to the back of the large house before he finally spotted her out by the fire pit, she was with Graysen and Amarantha and nothing good ever came from attracting their attention. When he got the text telling him that Elain was here alone, he knew he would find them here too. Inviting her to a party when neither of her sisters were in town was not a coincidence and he was getting her out of here as quickly as he could, before they could make her a part of the vicious games they enjoyed so much.

He was heading straight for her when Ianthe stepped in his way. “Azriel, what a surprise. I didn’t know you were invited.”

“I wasn’t, I’m just here to take Elain home.” He said, stepping around her, Elain no longer where he’d seen her last. “Shit.” He muttered under his breath.

Ianthe’s hand slithered over his back and up to his shoulder. “She seems a little inexperienced for you, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t.” Az said, shrugging her hand off and making his way through the crowd again, his jaw clenching when he saw Graysen smiling and leading Elain farther from the house. “Elain!” he called out as he made his way over.

Elain stopped and looked around before spotting him, smiling and waving as she swayed on her feet, Graysen’s arm helping keep her steady. “Az, you’re here!” she said, smiling.

“Uninvited…” Graysen noted with a sneer.

Azriel returned the look. “I’m just here to take Elain home. C’mon, El.” He held his hand out to her, only to have Ianthe take it, holding his arm and smiling up at him.

“We were just about to start a game, you can stay too, if you want to play.” She said, smiling and following the rest of the small group. Az followed Elain, taking the seat next to her. “Elain, we should go.”

Elain looked up at him, eyes sparkling. “Go? But I haven’t been here very long.” Long enough to have too much to drink, he thought.

Azriel sighed and leaned in. “El, these people are not nice people. If they ever pretend to be, its because they want something from you.”

Elain leaned on him a bit, smiling up at him. “But I don’t have anything.” “You smell really good by the way.” She whispered, her chin resting on his arm as she looked up at him dreamily. Azriel sighed, he’d imagined her looking at him like that plenty of times, but she wasn’t drunk in his daydreams.

Ianthe chuckled. “Uh oh, Graysen…looks like someone is losing their touch.” Graysen responded with a chuckle and an obscene gesture.

“Elain, please let me take you home.” Azriel said quietly.

“So much whispering over there. Lets get started…” Ianthe said. “I’ll go first.” She grabbed a bottle and bent over-directly in front of Tamlin, giving it a spin.

“Christ, what is this, Jr. High?” Lucien scoffed.

“You’re really an ass when Vassa isn’t around y’know that, Luc?” Ianthe growled as the bottle stopped. “Taaam.” She said with a grin. “Pucker up.”

Tamlin smirked and pulled her onto his lap, kissing her as everyone else looked away, annoyed. Elain looked away, only just realizing that Tamlin had been sitting there. Tamlin had hurt Feyre, his friends had made school unbearable for her for weeks, she should have known they would all be here, should have known that Graysen wouldn’t attend a party without them. Shame rippled through Elain and she looked to Azriel, wanting to go.

“Elain, why don’t you go next.” Ianthe motioned and Elain panicked. She stood, swaying slightly before taking her turn and spinning the bottle. Azriel watched, fists clenched and ready to drag Elain out of here if one of these pricks laid a hand on her. Ianthe chuckled as it landed on Azriel. “Tsk, too bad Gray…”

Graysen laughed, a wolfish grin on his face. “You think I wanna kiss her in front of you morons?”

“Such a gentleman.” Amarantha crooned sweetly.

Azriel cleared his throat as Elain turned and approached him. “Its fine, El, you don’t have to do anything.”

“What if I want to?” she whispered, the sweetest smile on her face, her eyes wide and slightly glazed. Azriel’s chest tightened as he put his hands on her arms, stopping her. “El…” he said as quietly as possible, but Ianthe saw her chance and she pounced. “How embarrassing.” She said, pretending to stifle a laugh.

“I would die.” Amarantha added, eyes brightening with amusement as her lips curled into a smile.

Elain blushed profusely, her eyes glossy. She did not want the others to see her like this, so she stood abruptly and left the circle.

“Elain! Damn it.” Azriel got up and ran off to find where she had gone.

Ianthe snickered, eyes twinkling with delight. “Awkward…”

“She’s obviously drunk, not everyone is as fucked up as you, Ianthe.” Lucien said, getting up to leave. “You’ll deserve whatever you get when Nesta finds out.”

Ianthe scoffed. “She doesn’t scare me.”

“That’s because you’re too stupid to know better.” Lucien said, the corner of his mouth curling up in a smirk. “I for one, can’t wait to see how this turns out for you.”

The group dispersed, everyone going their separate ways and heading back to the party, everyone but Azriel and Elain.

When he finally found her, his heart ached when he realized that she was crying. “Hey.” He said, quietly.

“Hey.” She answered, not looking at him. “Y’know if you don’t want to kiss me, its fine, Azriel, I just really don’t wanna talk about it right now.” she said, wiping her face with her sleeve. She would actually be happy to never to discuss this humiliation-ever.

Azriel sighed, before asking. “Why would you come here alone, Elain? You know how they treated Feyre-“

“I am not Feyre, and I-I didn’t know they would all be here.” She said with a frustrated sigh. “Maybe it just felt nice being treated like “Elain” for once, and not Feyre’s sister. To everyone, I’m just Feyre’s sister or Nesta’s sister, I just wanted someone to see me.” She looked up at him, eyes full of unshed tears. “No one ever sees me...not really.”

Azriel said softly. “Elain, that is how they see you. If they hurt you, they know it’ll hurt Feyre or Nesta.” He cradled her face in his hand, his thumb stroking her cheek softly as he said, “I see you, Elain, you’re impossible to overlook. If people can’t see that, then they don’t deserve to know you. Please, let me get you out of here, let me take you home.”

Elain’s mood lightened but Azriel tensed as Graysen made his way over. “Elain? I’ve been looking everywhere for you, are you alright?” he asked, offering her another beer.

“We were just leaving.” Azriel said, wanting to wipe the smug look off of Graysen’s face. The way his eyes roamed over Elain was making his blood boil.

Elain nodded. “I’m not feeling very well.” She said, which wasn’t a complete lie.

Graysen nodded and stepped closer, not deterred by Azriel as he reached up to tuck a curl behind Elain’s ear. “Alright, feel better, flower.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Elain said as she turned away, completely soured on this place and these people, she just wanted to go home. She looked to Azriel who put his arm around her and headed out with her.

She had to stifle a small giggle that bubbled up as they walked. They had never been this close before. Elain snuggled into his side. “You really do smell so good, Az...”

He blushed and cleared his throat. “You too, honey- I mean, you smell like honey...and jasmine.

“Thanks, honey.” She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. “Az?”

Hmm? He asked, still holding her up with one arm as they finally made their way out of the house.

“How did you know I was here?” She asked, looking up at him.

“I have my ways.” He shrugged, smirking.

“And you came for me?” She looked up at him, and it nearly broke him. Her face, looking at him as if he’d just slain some dragon to rescue her. He didn’t hate it, he actually loved it. He blushed, opening the door to his car and helping her in, reaching across to buckle her seatbelt. He couldn’t help sneaking a glance at her sweet face and found her big brown eyes trained on him. She smiled sweetly and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

He blushed and straightened, the back of his head hitting the roof of the car. “Its fine, I’m ok.” He said, wincing and making sure she was all in before closing the door. “Idiot.” he grumbled to himself as he rounded the back of the car and got in, looking over at her.

Elain was smiling over at him dreamily. He couldn’t help but return his own smile, chuckling softly as he headed to her house.

“You know...” she said, thoughtfully. “I’ve always thought you were very handsome.”

Azriel cleared his throat, his face heating as he blushed bright red. “Thank you...”

“Mhm...”. She nodded, drawing hearts in the frost on his window. “I’m sorry I tried to kiss you.”

He shook his head. “Don’t apologize, El, I just didn’t want you doing anything for their entertainment.

She perked up, smiling. “Is that the only reason?”

He blushed. “You should eat something when you get home.”

“Want a sandwich?” she looked up at him, and he knew he should say no, that he should leave her at the door, but he wanted to make sure she got in and settled safely. “Sure, El, thanks.”

She nodded and sat patiently as he parked, struggling with her seatbelt until he reached over to release it and helped her out. “Watch your head…” he warned, gently guiding her out and keeping her steady.

“My legs are asleep…” she laughed, almost falling over.

Azriel shook his head, chuckling and holding her up. “Elain, if I drop you on your face, Nesta will kill me. Up.” He said, kneeling down, letting her hop on his back, her arms around his neck. “Hold tight, don’t let go.” He said, not completely trusting her, keeping one hand on hers just in case.

Elain clung to him, closing her eyes and smiling. GOD he smelled good.

“Keys?” He asked, taking the key that she dangled between her fingers and letting them both in, carrying her into the kitchen and backing up to sit her on the counter top.

“Thank you, noble steed.” She smiled, grabbing a loaf of bread.

Azriel considered, before asking, “Peanut butter?”

She pointed to the pantry, and he retrieved the peanut butter, watching as she proceeded to hum and make a sandwich, holding it up for Azriel. “You first.” He nodded and she took a bite. “Mmm.” She smiled, cheeks puffed as she chewed, watching him get a glass of milk and lean against the counter next to her.

“Your legs working again?” he asked with a smirk and she nodded, clicking her heels together, taking another bite of the sandwich before holding it up to him again, her heart skipping as he took a bite this time.

“I really like you, Az.” She said, quietly, the rejection from earlier still stinging, but better to rip the whole bandaid off now.

“I really like you too, Elain.” He said, sliding the glass of milk over to her.

“You’re awfully far away.” she said, holding the sandwich back up to lure him closer.

Elain’s heart fluttered as a smile bloomed on his handsome face and he stepped closer to take another bite. “Thank you for coming to get me, Az. I shouldn't have been there.” She said, shame washing over her again. "I should have known better."

He nodded. “Anytime.” he hesitated before adding. “I’d do anything for you, Elain.”

“Would you kiss me now?” she asked, watching him.

He took the sandwich and held it up to her. “Big bite first.”

She took a bite and looked up at him, waiting for his answer.

“No.” He said, softly. “Not right now.”

“Mm.” Her eyes narrowed, cheeks puffed and he smiled as he brought his hand up to cradle her cheek. “It isn’t because I don’t want you, Elain. It’s because I do.” He said, as he took her hand in his. “I do, El, I want this, I want you…it just can’t be like this.”

“Like what?” she asked, looking up at him, those glossy doe eyes might be the death of him.

“Like you saying everything I ever wanted to hear, and then not remembering it in the morning.” He said softly “I couldn’t take it, El.” he said, her face in his hands. “I need to know that you mean whatever it is you say to me.” He confessed.

“I LOVE you, Az. I wouldn’t take it back, I wouldn’t.” she shook her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I have since...since forever, I just didn't think you could ever see me that way. See Feyre's sister that way.” She looked up at him and his heart ached with how badly he wanted this, but he couldn’t, not right now.

He looked down at her, the conflict clear on his face. “Elain, If you wake up tomorrow, and you still feel like this, then you know how to reach me.” He said, kissing her softly on the cheek, resting his forehead on hers before forcing himself to step back. “G’nite, Elain…I love you too.” He said before walking out, locking the door behind him and hoping that she would remember.

The next morning, Azriel was making breakfast with his brothers when there was a quiet knock at the door.

“Az? You have a visitor.” Rhysand said, smirking as he led Elain into the kitchen. Azriel froze as he watched her, snapping out of it when Cassian nudged him. “Get out, before you burn the bacon.”

Azriel blushed and walked over to Elain, leading her back into the livingroom. “Do you wanna sit-

Elain went on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his lips. Azriel could feel her smile against his lips as he wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off of the floor.

“Mmm!” she laughed, her arms sliding around his neck as he leaned in to kiss her again, deeper this time, his other hand cradling the back of her head.

“I love you Az, I really do…” she said, beaming up at him.

“I love you too, El.” He smiled, his arms still wound around her.

“Now he can stop sulking.” Rhys mumbled, setting the table.

“Thought he was gonna start crying all over the bacon.” Cassian added.

Az closed his eyes and shook his head, smiling. “Its not too late for you to back out, y'know.”

Elain laughed and kissed him again. "No way, you're mine now."

"All yours." he nodded, holding her close.

67 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. 2)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can’t order me to do that.”

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

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

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

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

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

Azriel snarled softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He snorted. “Are you kicking me out?”

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

Sort of. “I forgot something.”

“At two in the morning?”

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

“A comfort to every growing child.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I see.” LOL

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded.

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

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

Gwyn sliced again, but the ribbon remained unyielding.

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

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

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

Gwyn smiled broadly. “Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why?

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

That would be a lie.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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