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nikethestatue · 5 days

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A Match Baked In Heaven

Sorry for the long break y'all. Life and all. Here is an update.

Chapter XV

Things Ain’t Like They Used To Be

The beginning of the end started innocuously and unremarkably. There was nothing to suggest that things would be changing. And they shouldn’t have been changing either, because everything was…happiness.

Azriel had disappeared soon after Christmas dinner was over and the last of the trifle was eaten, and Elain couldn’t find him. However, since she couldn’t find Piglet either, she hoped that her boys were together.

She had a fun night, singing carols, teasing Nesta along with Cassian, and risking her wrath, because Cassian was hilarious and Nesta was all pissy since Elain and Cassian teamed up for the first round of games. Then, while drinking after-dinner cocktails, everyone played more games, and Feyre and their father won. Rhys and Elain came in second, but Rhys lamented that Azriel wasn’t around because he’d beat everyone.

“He is wildly competitive,” Rhys whispered to Elain. “Not surprising considering he is a professional athlete, but that man will win any game.”

It was then that Elain realised how much she missed Azriel next to her. After their silly row earlier in the day, things weren’t the same and Elain hated it! She hated that their first Christmas together wasn’t perfect. The fact that she even had him with her here, in Rosehall, with her family, having Christmas with all of them like he was part of the family, part of her, was exhilarating enough! She never thought that it would happen; that she’d be at her ancestral home, with the man she loved, with her sisters, her father, her dog, but here they were. Therefore, while the festivities were still going strong, Elain slipped away from the reception and went to find Azriel and Piglet. Just before she rounded the corner though, she heard Cassian’s voice calling her,

“Hey, petal. Wait up.”

Cassian looked a little buzzed, his jacket off, his white tuxedo shirt unbuttoned at the collar, the bow tie untied and hanging over his neck, his hair flowing just past his shoulders. No wonder Nesta, the icy, prickly Nesta, was all aflutter over him. The man was almost pornographically handsome, in the most primal of ways. This was the man who was going to bend you over, fuck you within an inch of your life, and you’d turn around and thank him. The raw, beasial beauty of him was truly breathtaking.

Elain stopped her thoughts spiralling out of control, because it was probably inappropriate to think of her sister’s new love interest in this manner. But Elain was…horny. Since last night, she was horny (well, she’s been horny and a little desperate for a while now) and the phantom feel of Azriel’s wicked hand inside of her still lingered and offered a pleasant memory by keeping her sore and wet.

Nevertheless, Elain thought that if Azriel wasn’t her soulmate, she’d absolutely give Cassian a lot of attention. Because this man was devastating.

He came closer, propping his arm against the wall. Elain looked up at him, all 6”6 of him and he snickered, “Well, we destroyed them at Pictionary, didn’t we?”

“We annihilated!” Elain agreed savagely, nodding.

Cassian laughed at her, but then his face changed to a more serious expression, and he asked,

“Az treating you good, petal?”

Elain frowned at the strange question and said,

“He is!”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Why?”

Cassian avoided answering directly, instead, saying,

“He can get a little intense, you know,”

Elain laughed at that.

“You think?” she shook her head.

“Are you okay with that?”

“That he is incredibly intense, barks ‘you are mine!’ and has me saved as ‘Mrs. Night’ on his phone?” she raised her brow at Cassian.

He pressed his tongue into his cheek and after a long pause, nodded at last.

“Yes, that’s what I mean.”

She shrugged,

“He is also generous, loving, unbelievably inappropriate but also strangely gallant. I have to take the good with the bad and the questionable,” she said decisively.

“He is new to all of this,” Cassian reminded her cautiously.

“What?”

Cassian paused again, until he finally uttered,

“Love.”

Elain swallowed loudly, unable to respond.

She and Azriel had never gone as far as the ‘L” word. They’ve exchanged words of tenderness, and Azriel never stopped coming up with new and extravagant endearments for her. But he never said that he was in love with her, and neither did she tell him the same.

“You know his history,” Cassian continued, “he never felt like this about a woman. Never been with a woman long enough to feel much of anything.”

“Cass, I think it’s premature to discuss all of this,” Elain muttered, her tone panicked.

Cassian ran his tongue over his lower lip and said, “Just be gentle with him, Elain. Be kind to his heart. He is not himself because of you.”

“What do you mean?” she demanded, worrying her lip with her teeth.

“Nothing really. Just that he is navigating a wholly new territory. He isn’t as confident as he appears to be.”

“Azriel…he is very special to me,” Elain murmured.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what you shouldn’t tell him,” Cassian warned quickly.

Her brow furrowed, “what, exactly?”

“Special. Don’t use words like that with him. You either confess your love for him and tell him that you are his. Or nothing, He doesn’t do things halfway. It’s all or nothing with him.”

Elain sighed, thinking. What Cassian was saying made sense, though she wasn’t sure how to approach that conversation yet.

“Thanks Cassian. But we are just fine. Brilliant even.”

He grunted something unintelligible and then said, “well, good night then. Happy Christmas, Elain. I didn’t think that that’s where we’d be for Christmas, but I can’t say that I mind it.”

She smiled and nodded, “yeah, I don’t mind it as well. Happy Christmas.”

Elain turned and she was almost out of sight, when Cassian called after her again.

“Oi!”

She glanced over her shoulder at him, watching him rub his chin, looking pensive.

“You been to his flat?” he questioned.

Another odd inquiry.

She nodded, “yes. We went to his yesterday. Why?”

“You liked it?”

“The views were amazing!!” she said enthusiastically. “But Canary Wharf…you know,” she shrugged indifferently.

“Boring, eh?”

Elain grinned, “it is!”

“Did you see a cage anywhere?” he suddenly asked.

“A cage?” Elain looked utterly confused. “What cage?”

“So no cage?”

“Oh, for Piglet? Yes. Az got him three beds and a ton of toys, but also a huge cage! Can you imagine?” she giggled.

Cassian stilled at her words.

“Yeah,” he murmured thoughtfully. “He was talking about it.”

“Pigled isn’t into cages,” Elain huffed. “He’d bite him if he was put in a cage!’

“That’s what I told him too,” Cassian smiled at her. “Well, good night then.”

“Night Cass!”

Elain opened the door to the bedroom quietly and tiptoed inside. It was dim in the room, only one lamp illuminating the spacious, luxurious space. She heard Piglet and his little snores first. Then she found Azriel lying on the bed, dressed in joggers and a t-shirt, his arm thrown over his eyes. He was barefoot and looked comfortable in his sleep, his breathing deep and even. Piglet was sleeping on his side next to his dad, oblivious to everything, not even sensing Elain’s arrival. Or if he did, he didn’t react. Great guard dog he was! But she supposed he was trusting Azriel to protect her from serial killers lurking in the garden. He was apparently ‘off duty’.

She watched them for a moment, until suddenly Azriel opened his arms, but not his eyes. Wordlessly, Elain approached the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips and burying her face in his chest. His arms banded around her and he pressed her closer to him. She didn’t care that she was wearing her dress and that her voluminous skirt took up half of the bed. She didn’t even care about wearing shoes.

He stroked her bare back lightly, his harsh, uneven skin and strong fingers sending shivers of pleasure down her body.

“I thought I lost you,” Elain whispered, her voice sounding desperate.

He sighed and drew his hand along her spine.

“No. Not just yet.”

“Yet?” she gasped and looked up at him.

His face was sombre, but then he smiled at her and caressed her head, and then her face.

“Are we fighting?” she asked, knowing how stupid she sounded, but she didn’t even care. She knew that she kind of freaked out at him in the morning and it was so silly–all because of ‘Mrs. Night’ on his phone.

“Do you want to fight?” he asked seriously, watching her closely.

She shook her head.

“No. No I don’t.”

“Alright then. We’ll leave the fighting until after Christmas.”

“But you left,” she whispered. “So you are angry with me?”

He smiled at her gently and lied, “nah, I just have a headache. Pink was also all partied out, so I took him out–sorry, there is a pile of his turds somewhere in the garden–and then we came back here.”

Elain rubbed her cheek against his neck, breathing in his crisp, sharp scent, as she clutched his biceps, feeling her fingers tremble. The stress of thinking that he’d left her, that he got into his car and drove away suddenly hit her so hard, she shivered and felt cold sweat cover her body at once.

“What's wrong?” he asked, feeling her tension and her unease. He tipped her chin up and looked down at her with a frown.

“Nothing,” she said. “All is good,” she stroked his arm. “All is good now.”

She sat up, still straddling him and then cupped his face in her palm.

“Everything is good, Az. Because you are with me.”

He gave her an assessing glance, like he didn’t believe her, and then asked, “is that enough?”

“Yes. For me it is.”

She reached into her bag, which was left by the bed, and took out a small box, wrapped in a blue ribbon.

“I wanted to give you your Christmas gift.”

She blushed at the words and ducked her head shyly, handing the box to him. Azriel sat up, cocking his brow and looked at it with interest, and maybe even surprise. When she attempted to slide off him, he wrapped his arm around her hips, keeping her in place and said, “open it”.

Elain pulled on the ribbon and then opened the box.

He looked inside and then declared with a grin, “yes, yes I will!”

“Wha…”

“It’s a ring! You are asking me to marry you?” he said definitively. “So I am saying ‘yes’,”

“My god!” she swatted at him. “That’s not what it is! You are a madman!”

“Maybe I am, or maybe I am not, but I am now an engaged madman,” he told her. “Put a ring on it, baby,” and he wiggled his finger at her.

Exasperated, Elain sighed dramatically and announced,

“It’s for the headaches you get…that everybody gives you. It’s supposed to stimulate brain activity and specific pressure points and relieve your headaches,”

He stared at her and then laughed out loud, startling Piglet, who looked over his shoulder with a sleepy, bewildered gaze wondering what was happening.

“Sorry little lad,” Azriel patted the pug’s side. “Go back to sleep.”

“This is amazing, beautiful!” he exclaimed then. “And invaluable. Between my teammates and Cass and Rhys, this is the perfect gift!”

Elain smiled happily and added, “it’s not the only thing it does. If you press here,” she showed him, “you’ll get background noise to sleep, or drown out any other noises. I imagine that travelling with your team could get loud at times.”

“Yes, indeed,” he agreed, looking at the ring and pressing invisible buttons.

“It measures all your vitals,” Elain added. “And tells you to sleep if you aren’t sleeping enough,”

“Where did you get this?”

“I had it custom made. Just for you.”

Azriel put the ring on his thumb and twisted his tattooed hand in front of his eyes, admiring the new bring. It was an elegant piece–black, with a silver insert.

“Do you like it?” she asked shyly, rubbing her finger over his thumb.

Azriel cupped her cheek in his hand and pulled her closer to him.

His breath fanned over her bare shoulder, when he placed a gentle kiss on it.

“You are magical, Elain Archeron. A little faery,” he whispered. “I am one lucky fucker.”

Elain snorted and scoffed, “your language is the worst!”

“Sorry, pretty girl, you’ll have to live with it for the rest of your life,” he shrugged innocently.

“Oh is that so? The rest of my life?”

He drew his thumb over his lower lip, his expression sobering and becoming more serious.

Elain thought that he’d go on some tangent about marriage and her being his, but instead, he said, “I wasn’t sure if I should give you your present…”

He rustled under his pillow and then pulled out a box. It was much too large for a ring, and Elain, who was waiting with bated breath, wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed. But whatever it was, she was excited to see it.

“Stay where you are,” Azriel ordered firmly, insisting that she remain seated atop of his hips. “You may take the dress off, if you so desire,” he suggested casually.

“I’ll decide once I see what you got me,” she told him firmly and he smiled.

“Well, happy Christmas then,” he murmured and opened the box for her. Elain’s breath skittered over his hands when she beheld a stunning diamond and sapphire necklace displayed against the cream satin of the box. It was a Vacheron Constantin no less–the finest of the finest. Not a trifling thing either–a ‘garden’ necklace of clusters of large diamonds and even larger sapphires, shaped into a chain of flowers. A gift that a husband would give his wife for the holidays (if he were a millionaire footballer that is).

“Azriel,” she sucked in her breath, entranced by the exquisite beauty of the necklace.

He was about to unleash on her for saying ‘I couldn’t possibly’, but she beat him to it and suddenly–to his utter delight–pulled up her long curled hair and presented him with her long delicate neck. “Put it on me?”

Azriel’s head went quiet. There was something profound about this moment, with Elain allowing him to put this visible ‘collar’ around her neck–accepting him, permitting him to do that to her. For her. He moved closer: her breasts, still contained within her structured dress, pressed into his chest, and he loved the feel of them, while he wrapped his arms around her and fastened the lock of the necklace in the back of her neck.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, watching the diamonds gleam and sparkle in the low light.

“Is it too much?” she wondered, as her fingers slid over the stones.

“No. Just enough,” he decided, admiring her. “A little bouquet of diamonds and sapphires for my pretty flower girl.”

Elain's necklace

Fucking beat a crown that Rhys put on Feyre. Damn peacock.

“May I remove this unnecessarily big dress for you?” Azriel offered smoothly, and without waiting for an answer, he found the zipper in the back of her gown.

“Az, we can’t do it!” she hissed in alarm.

“Do what, exactly?” he teased, while he slowly slid the zipper down.

Scrambling and bumbling, she muttered, “you know! that…You know what!”

“That and what, huh,” he chuckled. “It’s not like I’ve been anticipating getting laid tonight, sweetness. I mean, I’ve pretty much lost all hope by now, but,”

“Excuse me!” she exclaimed. “We’ve been dating for 3 weeks!”

“I feel like it’s been much longer, since October.” He corrected her, while opening the dress up in the back and letting it fall away from her body.

“October? October?!?!” she cried. “No way! We only met in October.”

“Well, and I’ve been dating you since I’ve met you,” he reminded her calmly. “Not sure what you’ve been doing.”

“Well, I,”

“Yeah, so it’s pretty reasonable for me to expect to have sex with my girlfriend after three months,” he glared at her.

“I can’t!” she argued weakly. “Not with my dad in the same house…and Piglet right here,”

“Oh, bring dad into this, why don’t you! And Pinky is a dog, who cares?!”

“A dog? He isn’t a dog. He is my son!” she argued fiercely. “I gave birth to him, you know!”

“Uh-uh, did you now? I beg to differ,”

“Why is that?”

“Because I don’t remember making him, and the only son you’d be birthing would be mine,” he stated definitively. “So there is that.”

“I don’t think that’s how it is,”

“I do. But we’ll have fun making ours,” Azriel promised and gently squeezed her nipple between his fingers.

While she was pontificating about being her pug’s birth mother, Azriel managed to bare her to him and now he whistled softly to himself.

A fine pair of full, pear-shaped breasts had tumbled from her gown and they were incredible. Azriel has had his share of peeks and glances, but even last night, when he was fingering her, she was still wearing a bra. Now, the titties were out, and before Elain could make up some excuse, he was dipping his face to them and before she could even gasp, he latched onto her nipple with his lips, pulling hard, and sucking half of her breast into his mouth. His hand wrapped around her neck–not choking her, but keeping her keen and at attention–while he circled his tongue around the nipple, as he held her on top of him firmly. Elain inhaled sharply, watching him, while he crouched in his uncomfortable position, and watched her.

Elain was warm and soft, and her sublime tit was like melted butter on his tongue–silky and soft and rich. She felt so good in his arms, shivering every time he gave her little swollen bud another suck, his thumb stroking her lovely neck, his fingers brushing against the cold of her new necklace. He also liked the way the ring looked on his thumb. Black and sexy.

He pulled away from her breast and then licked her other nipple, nipping on it with his teeth, before biting roughly. She yipped, but he only drew his thumb over her mouth, quieting her down.

“I am not gonna fuck you tonight,” he whispered, sucking on the other nipple as well, making it nice and puffy, “only under one condition,”

“What?” she breathed sharply, her eyes wide, her skin hot in his hands.

“You are sleeping nice and naked. Next to me. Don’t care about Pink here, don’t care about dad, or anyone else. You’re sleeping naked and I am jamming my dick into her bare arse.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Ellie. Although of course you may wear the necklace.”

“Ohhh, you are so magnanimous!” she scoffed, though her fingers tangled in his hair and she very clearly enjoyed what he was doing to her. He kissed each lovely globe with small, tender kisses, then he licked around the nipples, soft and slow, savouring every bit of her skin. Elain panted and rubbed against him, the thin material of his joggers getting pleasantly damp against her pussy.

“I am that,” he nodded in agreement and then fell back on the pillows. “Go clean up and I expect you next to me, nice and naked and wet, sharpish. Got it?”

Elain rolled her eyes, but climbed off of him and walked to the bathroom, dragging her dress around her hips, while he was chuckling an evil laugh.

While Elain was in the bathroom, Piglet woke up for a few minutes and then demanded that Azriel spoon him. Azriel moved away a bit, and Piglet moved closer, then Azriel moved again, and Piglet sidled up to him. Once Azriel got the message, he tugged the pug closer to him, but the moment he removed his hand, Piglet put his paw on his hand, indicating that he better be snuggled right this minute. So Azriel had no choice but to cuddle the dog next to his body, and Piglet put both of his paws over Azriel’s forearm, keeping him in place. Piglet was going to take full advantage of this situation–he wasn’t allowed to sleep in the same bed with his Elain and while he could nap in her bed–which he often did–sleeping overnight wasn’t permitted. Here, today, he knew he was going to sleep with her and Az, and he was going to require full-on snuggles while he was at it. As soon as he had Azriel in his possession, Piglet fell back asleep.

“Close your eyes!” Azriel heard.

He laughed.

“Absolutely not!”

“Fine, I am not coming out then.”

“You gonna sleep in the tub, Ellie-girl?”

“If I have to!”

He snorted and then said, “fine. My eyes are closed.”

“Truly?”

“Absolutely. Come on, come out.”

Elain tiptoed into the bedroom and gasped, because Azriel was snuggling with the sleeping Piglet, and had his eyes WIDE open.

“I hate you,” she moaned.

But Azriel’s big hazel eyes lit up at the sight of her and she gushed, “you are so fucking gorgeous, Ellie. I can’t believe my stupid luck.”

Elain blushed at his words and wrung her fingers nervously and she silently walked across the carpet. She had kept her word–she was completely nude except for her new gorgeous necklace.

“You’ll have to be the biggest spoon, baby,” Azriel told her. “I’ve been made to spoon the fur son. He was cross with me when I attempted to move,”

Elain chuckled, secretly enjoying how his eye devoured her. She never considered her body to be anything remotely perfect, but the way Azriel was looking at her made her think that maybe she’d been too hard on herself. Maybe seeing her through his eyes was all she ever needed, because he saw the beauty in her that she never allowed herself to acknowledge.

She got in bed next to him–his massive body warm and firm, exuding his innate strength, but also calmness, all the while brimming with power. It felt good. Like she was in the safest place in the world.

“Did you like Christmas?” she asked quietly, kissing his shoulder.

“It’s a good Christmas,” he stated simply. “You and me and the dog. Well, and family, I guess.”

She laughed at that. He was very nonchalant about the ‘family’ bit.

…Surprisingly, even though there was a naked Elain in bed with him, Azriel fell asleep quickly and without any usual struggles. Perhaps, her gift was already working? Or perhaps he was in the place where he always meant to be.

When Azriel opened his eyes, bleary sunlight was already streaming through the windows. From where he lay, he could see the muted pink sunrise, pale light tentatively touching the ground in the vast park of the estate.

He could get used to it, he thought. The life of a country gentleman: caring for his manor, a bunch of dogs and horses on the grounds, a glass of whiskey at night by the fireplace, his Elain tending to her gardens, being the lady of the house, running charities and organising their social calendar. Yes, he wouldn’t mind that at all. Wouldn’t mind railing her on the daily either.

Elain’s gorgeous naked body was outlined by the morning light, the lovely curve of her bottom so sumptuous, Azriel had to bite his lip to keep himself from groaning out loud. She stood by the window, her foot tapping softly behind her, her long hair cascading down her back. Azriel was pleased to see that her nipples were still nicely plump and swollen from all the attention that he’d paid them overnight.

Gently setting Piglet aside Azriel rose swiftly and sat up on the bed, rubbing his face sleepily. He inspected his leg–it looked normal now and therefore, he knew that his little holiday was coming to an end. After the new year, he was going back onto the field. His last checkup was going to be on December 28th. If he was cleared to return to playing, his first game was going to be the first week of January. And it’s not that he didn't want to return to the game–he’d missed it: his team and his boys and the thrill of the game–but he also knew that his time with Elain and Pinky would suffer once he got back on the road. And that made him sad.

He looked at Elain again, silently observing the sensual heaviness of her breast, the pretty curve of her belly, the softness of her shoulder. With sudden, acute clarity, he also saw her standing in the same spot, but this time, with her stomach round and heavy with his baby.

Fuuuuuck. He was feeling broody.

He rubbed his face again, trying to shake off the image. But somehow, it was seared into his brain now. Elain glorious nakedness didn’t help him clear his mind of dreams of impregnating her and watching her get round with his son.

At last, he stood up and walked soundlessly towards her, startling her when he brashly cupped her warm bare pussy in his hand.

“Az!” she gasped.

He kissed her neck softly and murmured, “that’s my name, baby. Good morning, my Ellie.”

She melted against him almost immediately, her sweet arse moulding into his cock just like he wanted it. Pink didn’t budge the whole night, and as much as Azriel tried, he couldn’t spoon Elain, because the dog was in the way. Even when Azriel released him a couple of times and tried to turn on his other side, Piglet growled and then crawled over him and planted himself between their bodies. There was no escaping him.

“Our first Christmas morning together,” Azriel whispered, and buried his face in her neck, gently stroking her soft pussy, while he cupped her breast in his palm and teased her nipple lazily.

“Oh…” she breathed blissfully, “this feels so good…”

“I am here to make you feel good, Ellie. That’s going to be my full time job. Fuck football!”

She laughed and patted his hand, “not yet. I want to have a brawny footballer as a boyfriend for a little while. Before you get all old and become a coach,”

“Old?!” he exclaimed, outraged. “I am going to be 30!”

“Yeah. Old.”

“No respect for your elders,” he shook his head.

“Oh, look, look,” Elain pointed outside, and then bounced on her toes with excitement.

Azriel looked out, seeing that the garden was covered in fresh snow, just in time for Christmas. Out in the cold, Nesta Archeron was running laps. She was thin, ramrod straight, her hair tied in a severe ponytail.

“She runs every morning,” Elain sighed, shaking her head. “She never misses a day. Can you imagine?”

Azriel didn’t want to remind her that he also ran every day, and exercised for a few hours too, so he simply said, “she is very dedicated.”

Elain huffed, muttering, “well, I’d rather have a cup of coffee and a croissant.”

Azriel did not doubt that one bit. But he only kissed her shoulder and her neck and caressed her silken breast in his palm. He liked his soft and plush Elain, where he could touch and squeeze her lush body to his heart’s delight, and feel her supple flesh and not a pile of bones.

“Ohmygod,” Elain gasped. Azriel looked to see what got her so excited and then smirked with amusement.

There was his brother, in a pair of joggers and a sleeveless hoodie, his long hair tied into a topknot, running behind Nesta.

Cassian pounded the ground steadily and when Nesta heard him, she turned around and was clearly surprised to see him. He greeted her indifferently, like this was what he did every day. And he did–Azriel knew that Cassian ran too. But he was quite sure that Cassian wasn’t so dedicated that he’d normally run on Christmas morning. No. This was a ruse. Cassian wanted to run with Nesta.

Elain watched the two with rapt attention and then turned swiftly in Azriel’s arms and asked, “do you think he fancies her?”

“Yeah he fancies her,” Azriel confirmed simply and kissed the tip of her nose.

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure. Can’t you see?”

“You know, she never dates!” Elain exclaimed in frustration. “Never ever. And…well, I like Cassian,”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “I think he would be good for her. He is warm and funny and good.”

Azriel agreed. And Cassian would be the right person for Nesta too. He could handle her. He liked a challenge, but he was also emotionally intelligent enough to know what a woman like Nesta needed.

“Alright,” Azriel decided, hauling Elain up in his arms, “let’s go back to bed and make out.”

Piglet was overheated.

Which is why he was presently lying on the cool stone tiles of the palace and was being fanned by Feyre and his Elain. They sat next to him with magazines in their hands and were frantically trying to cool him off.

“You couldn’t have been more careful?” Feyre hissed at her husband accusingly. “And you?!” she snarled at Nesta.

“Okay, Feyre darling, in my defence,” Rhys said pacifically, “I am not well familiar with a pug’s internal cooling system in a snowball fight,”

Elain couldn’t help but snort a laugh.

Azriel was observing all of this with a disdainful look on his face, as he shook his head.

“This damn pug is more of a diva than Mariah Carey!” he crossed his arms on his broad chest, watching the two girls on their knees, fanning–literally–over the panting dog. “Just in the last 48 hours, he ran into a wall and knocked himself out, then he attempted to poison himself with some flowers, and now he is overheated from a snowball fight. Whatever will the next 48 hours bring…” he pondered.

Dad was being mean of course, but Piglet didn’t even care. Because whatever. He had so much fun during the snowball fight that he’d do it all over again. Hey, yolo and all!

So this is what happened:

When Piglet woke up in the morning, it was because dad and his Elain were doing something that looked a lot like wrestling on the bed. They pushed at him, and he woke up, only for the big man–Cass–to burst through the doors the next moment and scream ‘snowball fight!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’

Then all hell broke loose, because dad yelled at Cassian, who already left the room, for seeing Elain naked, and Piglet didn’t know what all the fuss was about, because he saw his Elain naked all the time and it was no big deal. He escorted her to the loo and to the bathroom pretty much all the time, just to make sure that she was okay and didn’t need his help, or that she didn’t just disappear somewhere.

Everyone had gathered downstairs soon after. There wasn’t even breakfast! Piglet only got some water and a banana, which he had to eat in a hurry, so he trotted to the gathering holding it in his mouth.

“Couples can’t be together!” Cassian declared loudly.

“Why not?” Feyre demanded instantly.

“No. That’s not how it works. You can’t be with Rhys. And I can’t be with Nes,” he continued.

“We aren’t a couple,” Nesta reminded him coolly.

“But I want to be with Azriel,” Elain whined, clutching Azriel’s hand.

“Yeah,” Azriel nodded, “I wouldn’t mind being with Ellie too,”

“Like I said,” Cassian rolled over all the objections, “no couples.”

“So what do you propose we do?” Rhys demanded, tapping his fingers on his bicep impatiently.

Piglet watched the humans negotiate for a good ten minutes, while he chewed his banana and rolled his eyes. They were slow and indecisive and kind of annoying too.

“What about Piglet?” Elain exclaimed at last.

Piglet looked at all of them, challenging them with a wordless yeah, what about Piglet, indeed?

“He doesn’t have thumbs,” Rhys reminded her. “He can’t make snowballs.”

At that, Piglet huffed.

Cassian rubbed his chin and said, “whoever gets him will have a distraction, for sure. He might come in handy actually,”

At least somebody was talking sense.

Piglet got onto his hind leg and suggested that maybe Cassian take him on his team. But, naturally, as luck would have it, Piglet ended up on the worst team ever–with Nesta and Rhysand. They picked the short straw which egregiously meant him.

The final breakdown was Cassian and Elain, Feyre and Azriel, and Nesta and Rhys and Piglet.

And so it began.

Rhys had the audacity to ask Nesta “does he understand commands?”

“Yeah, when he wants to,” Nesta scoffed. “Usually when there is food involved, he is all ears. If not, then they are for decoration only.”

Piglet was upset that he wasn’t on the team with Cassian, who was hidden behind a tree with Elain, designing an honest to god tactical warfare plan. But it didn’t matter because Piglet was gonna show Rhys that he could be an important addition to the team. And he didn’t do everything for food. Like for example right now. He didn’t even have breakfast, but here he was, rushing across the field, distracting everyone, while Rhys sprung on Azriel and pummelled him with snowballs.

Piglet crawled between bushes and then destroyed stockpiles of snowballs that Elain had made, incurring Cassian’s wrath as the big man bellowed ‘you wily little bastard!’

Elain wailed ‘I can’t believe you did that!’ but Piglet only rolled in the snow, completely obliterating her work, before running away.

As far as he was concerned, all was fair in love and war.

Azriel chased Nesta with snowballs, wiping her out, and while Rhys valiantly attempted to defend her, Feyre rushed across the field and kicked all of his snowballs, flattening them ruthlessly, and then ran back, followed by Rhys’s mournful scream ‘you are my wife!!!’

She shrugged and saluted him, while Cassian sprung on her and dumped heaps of snow on her head. She screamed hysterically, as the snow fell into her coat, and unsuccessfully fought back the attack.

Meanwhile, Azriel sprinted towards Elain, and basically tackled her, landing on top of her in a heap of snow. He managed to half-bury her in the pile, before she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips. Azriel melted at once, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her back, which allowed Cassian to sneak up on him and toss a bunch of snowballs at Azriel’s head.

“Sorry, petal!” he bellowed, since some of the snowballs landed on Elain as well, but she gave him a thumbs up and laughed wildly.

“I can’t believe you did that!” Azriel fake-gasped, wiping his face.

“You are defeated!” she announced.

“Never! With Piglet’s help, Nesta and Rhys certainly had the upper hand. Piglet kept pretending to fall, or be struck by snowballs, he howled and rolled around, he also repeatedly rushed various people and successfully took them down, because they lost footing as they didn’t want to step on him.

As much as Cassian tried to insist that the couples stay apart and not couple, by the end of the fight, Rhys found his way to Feyre, Azriel to Elain, and even Cassian draped his arm over Nesta’s shoulders (and she didn’t shrug him off).

That’s when Piglet collapsed for real, panting within his red Arsenal jacket.

Feyre saw him in the snow and hurried to pick him up, crying loudly, ‘Piggy don’t die!! He is going to die!’

Elain was much calmer about this and told her distraught sister, ‘He won’t die. He is just hot. But we’ll need to fan him.’

“Oh and by the way, Feyre and I won,” Azriel shrugged innocently.

“I beg to differ!” Cassian argued at once.

“Yeah, according to who?” Nesta snarled at Azriel, her hands on her hips.

“Okay, let’s reassess what has taken place,” Azriel offered calmly and all of them headed back to the manor, arguing loudly about who’d actually won.

Piglet felt like he’d won.

Piglet was very pleased with his massive haul of Christmas presents.

He received not one, not two, not three, but FOUR sticks!! Four. Excellent sticks.

As expected, dad gave the best presents: in addition to one of the sticks, dad also got him a pack of used padded Amazon envelopes, two pairs of socks, a whole bunch of toys, a Chelsea ball and a small plush tree decorated with shiny balls, which were also soft. All for him to destroy.

The rest of the gifts consisted of bags of treats, chewys, more balls, and piles of outfits.

Christmas lunch was incredible and he ate ham and roast beef and then came to the conclusion that Christmas was his favourite.

Now, after closely supervising the loading of all the gifts into the car, including all four sticks, Piglet lay in his seat, having been hugged and kissed by everyone about a hundred times. He was heading home and he was hoping that everything would go just as well as it’s been going.

January 6th was a surprisingly sunny day. Warm for this time of year, the apricity of sunshine dispersing the gloominess of the winter chill. The feeling in the air was almost…innocent. Full of expectation and new tidings. A new year indeed.

That didn’t stop Piglet from being put in air jail, and he was being carried by Azriel. On their morning walk today, Piglet tripped Elain by wrapping the lead around her ankles, then, once in the park, he barked and scared a baby, and then ran with some big dogs, chasing them loudly, until they turned around and began chasing them, and he dodged them, but fell off a retaining wall. After that, Azriel picked him up and now carried the pug like a baby.

Now they were seated at The Ivy Canary Wharf and having brunch. Piglet agreed to be quiet and discreet and in return, Azriel fed him ham under the table and strawberries from the fruit salad.

“I’ve been thinking,” Elain said slowly, sipping her Rhubarb Bellini.

“About?” Azriel sliced into his eggs and looked at her.

“Him,” she nodded towards the dog under the table. “His leg. When we went to that vet here,”

“Yeah, I remember,” Azriel nodded.

When Piglet fake-poisoned himself on Elain’s birthday, the vet that they took him to worked in a fancy private practice. It cost Azriel 1,300 quid to get Pinky to take a laxative, but the vet told them about a new experimental treatment for dogs with missing legs. It was a robotic leg, which would sense his movements and respond accordingly, effectively working just as well as a real leg.

“So what about it?” Azriel pressed.

She didn’t answer right away, and the pause felt somehow important, pivotal. He wondered if Elain was going to ask him for input and they’d make a decision together.

Truly, it should’ve been a family decision.

He and Pinky were tight. They were besties.

“It would be good for his joints,” Azriel told her. “Right now, his hips and shoulders are stressed because of the extra pressure that he places on them. Since you’ve been pumping him full of longevity shots, he might be living for 20 years for all we know, and you don’t want him to struggle with his joints.”

Azriel spoke from experience. He’s been running for 20 years.

Elain pouted and muttered, “I am not pumping him full of longevity shots…”

He chuckled.

“It’s expensive,” he added quietly.

“I can pay,” she said quickly. “It would be worth it.”

He shrugged and offered an ambivalent nod.

At that moment, Elain’s phone pinged with an incoming message.

It wasn’t her regular phone, but her work one, and while they typically didn’t use their phones at the table, she smiled at him apologetically and he nodded.

Who had a matchmaking emergency on a Saturday morning?

Azriel didn’t really give a shit. His mood soured and he was playing with his eggs listlessly, internally annoyed. What did he need to do to fucking make her understand that they were a pair? A couple? What did he need to do to make her yield? It was exhausting and he was irritated and angry and dark thoughts swirled in his mind. What would it take for her to consider him her man? Her partner? Did he need to force sex on her? Steal her away? Lock her in the cage?

“...I’ll see what I can do, Gwyn,” Elain said into the phone.

Azriel had been so absorbed in his unhappy thoughts that he didn’t even notice Elain speaking to this Gwyn.

“No…I understand. I think it will be a bit of a challenge on such short notice, but I will definitely try,” Elain promised, grimacing.

Piglet looked up at Azriel from under the table, tilting his big round head back and forth, assessing Azriel’s mood and feeling that it had changed. Azriel stroked the floppy black ears and smiled at the dog. Pinky was the only one who understood him. Pinky was the one other being obsessed with Elain besides Azriel, but Elain was also devoted to the dog, and wasn’t devoted to Azriel quite as much.

She put the phone down, her brows knitted.

“What’s going on?” he queried, taking a sip of his coffee.

Elain waved her hand and replied, “oh nothing. Just a client, in a bit of a bind,”

“What kind of bind can you be in as a matchmaker’s client? That you need to ring on a Saturday morning?” Azriel was actually genuinely curious because it sounded so ridiculous.

Elain leaned back in her chair and explained, “she is a client and I’ve been having the hardest time matching her with anyone,”

“Why? She ugly? A psycho?”

“My god. Not everyone is an ugly psycho, you know!” she seethed.

“I feel like most people who use a matchmaker probably are,” he noted callously, still annoyed about the robotic leg situation.

“Are you an ugly psycho?” she snapped.

He shrugged and looked at his mangled hands, considering for a bit, before saying, “not ugly. But definitely a psycho.”

“Anyway,” Elain grunted.

“Tell me. I want to understand this matchmaking emergency! Indulge me,” he beckoned, smirking.

Elain scoffed at him and his attitude, but nevertheless, began explaining,

“She is a lovely person, really. Very smart,”

“Sorry baby, but this is not a selling point,” he huffed an amused laugh. “You come at a bloke with a ‘I’d like to match you with a very smart woman’ and he immediately starts wondering just how smart she is and would he measure up?”

“So what you are telling me is that you are intimidated by smart women?” she crossed her arms on her chest and glowered at him. “Only airheads for you?”

He drank his coffee lazily, enjoying her anger and then said, “Nah, baby. I ain’t intimidated by nothing. Bring on all the smarts. See, you ain’t an airhead and I am dating you. So I think that I am all good. What about this lass though? What does she do?”

“She is pursuing her PhD in Classics and Philosophy at Cambridge,”

“Jesus,” he breathed. “No wonder you can’t set her up. She sounds like a bundle of laughs.”

“You are so judgy!” she gasped.

“You have no idea,” he confirmed, smiling widely. “And yet it doesn’t stop me from being with you–the Queen of Pearls and Cardigans.”

Elain rolled her eyes and muttered, “I hardly ever wear cardigans! And my pearls are heirlooms, are worth a ton of money and will be passed on to my daughters,” she told him in a firm and decisive tone.

Azriel shrugged and said, “That's fine by me, as long as I get to make these daughters with you, you may give them all the pearls.”

“No comment.”

“So no one wants to hook up with the Cambridge scholar then?”

Elain sighed deeply and gulped on her drink, “she is very picky! And not even so much about the men…but how they’d fit into her life. She isn’t moving from the university and she is very determined to finish her degree–which I absolutely understand. But that makes everything very challenging, because there aren’t many men who want to give up their own lives and careers to be with a woman. Because she’d definitely end up in academia for the rest of her life with a degree like that. So, it would have to be someone who is so completely independent that he wouldn’t care. Or another Cambridge scholar.”

“You are running short on those?”

“I know you are joking,” she was shaking her head in defeat, “but it’s very difficult. She’d need a man like you: someone whose career isn’t stationary and who wouldn’t depend on her.”

“Running short of available footballers too?” he teased. “But what does she need from you right now?” he insisted, making a show of the bustling Ivy on a Saturday morning.

“She has an event that she needs to attend. She is a keynote speaker. It’s a formal gala,”

“Let me guess, she needs a man by her side? To show she isn’t a lonesome singleton?” he laughed.

“Basically. Yes,” Elain confirmed.

“So I guessed correctly.”

“And how the heck am I supposed to find that?”

She sighed dramatically and added, “I am almost ready to give up on her and tell her that I am unable to find her a match…It would be my first,”

“I’ll go,” Azriel said suddenly.

She started and looked at him wide eyed, “What do you mean?”

He shrugged and repeated, “I’ll go. I’ll go to the gala with your boring scholar. I’ll wear the tux and I’ll escort her around and shit…”

“But,” Elain began, sounding uncertain. Azriel was pretty blase about his proposal.

“What? What’s the big deal? Besides, don’t I owe you one last fake date or whatever?”

“They weren’t fake dates!” she protested.

“Nuala was okay,” he allowed. Then shuddered demonstratively and murmured, “Mor, not so much.”

Elain thought about his offer. She wasn’t crazy about it–he was her boyfriend, after all. Or was he still a client? Or both? Gah! This was so frustrating. Even thinking about Azriel escorting another woman, even one as romantically clueless as Gwyn, made Elain uncomfortable and genuinely jealous. It was crazy, of course. Azriel was totally devoted to her, and absolutely paid no attention to any other women. Even right now, in the restaurant, some very pretty women walked by and while other men gave them a once over, Azriel only had eyes for Elain and for Piglet, who was now sleeping on his shoe.

“Jealous, beautiful?” he snickered.

“No! I am not!” she argued defensively.

“Think about it. I am your failed case, so is she. Your two failures, fake-dating for one evening. Face it, it’s kind of poetic.”

“You're not my failure,” Elain glared at him, but her tone was soft and loving.

“No?”

“You are…you are actually my,” she swallowed hard.

He was watching her closely, waiting.

“My win,” she concluded. “My reward.”

Gwyneth Berdara.

27 years old. PhD candidate in Classics and Philosophy at Cambridge University. Part-time lecturer at Cambridge, otherwise previously unemployed. Moved to London from Inverness, Scotland to attend university.

Attended a Catholic preparatory school. Initially intended to become a nun.

No previous relationships.

Hobbies: yoga, meditation, pilates, travelling, reading

Azriel read the profile while sitting in Elain’s office. He exhaled a long breath, internally cringing. A nun? A fucking nun?

Supposedly Elain wasn’t a virgin–he was yet to check on that–but this one…yeah, this one definitely was. Not that he cared, but it made him wonder how he was getting set up, even for one evening, with such odd specimens.

Frankly, this girl needed someone like Elain. Because otherwise, how was she ever going to find a boyfriend? What would be the opening line? ‘Hello, my name is Gwyn and I wanted to be married to Jesus!”

Anyways, he wasn’t here to judge. He was just getting instructions.

Elain was plenty jumpy as it is, so he wasn’t going to aggravate the situation.

As it turned out, Gwyn was a keynote speaker, she was also receiving some scholarly award (Azriel didn’t care, so he didn’t ask for any details). The gala was being held at the Museum of Natural History, the dinner was cooked by some of Britain's best chefs and it promised to be quite the event. There would be dancing, a silent auction and all the proceeds were going to go to some animal sanctuary. Azriel hoped that it was going to go to some pug sanctuary.

Elain had informed him that there weren’t many pug sanctuaries out there, which, Azriel, felt was an omission.

Azriel kept most of his comments to a minimum. He knew that it was ridiculous, but somehow, this whole proposal now sounded a bit like cheating. And he regretted having come up with the idea. It was stupid, and he shouldn't have done it, but now, it was too late to back out.

“Okay, you will pick her up at 4:30 pm on Saturday. She needs to be onsite earlier than the rest of the attendees,” Elain was explaining, “because she has to prepare. Cocktails are at 6 pm, and then dinner is at 7 pm.”

He nodded.

“You know you are my girl, right?” he asked suddenly, and when Elain glanced from her tablet at him, his expression was almost…desperate. Pleading.

She smiled softly at him and nodded,

“I know.”

“I probably shouldn’t be doing this,” he muttered.

“It’s okay. I am not jealous,” she assured him. “I trust you.”

But maybe Elain shouldn’t have? Trusted him, that is.

The next time she spoke with Gwyn Berdara was on Sunday morning following the gala.

‘How did it go?” she inquired, once Gwyn picked up the phone.

“Elain, it was wonderful!” Gwyn chirped excitedly. “I had a brilliant time! Thank you for setting me up with Azriel. He was–is–incredible!”

Umm

Setting her up?

Did she not understand that this was a one-evening only sort of a deal? Elain thought that she’d been clear about this arrangement. One gala. One evening. That’s all.

“I mean, I am not a footie fan,” Gwyn continued saying, “but even I’ve heard of Azriel Night! And honestly when you told me that it would be him, I was unsure. But he was…’ she seemed to be lost for words. “Well, he is lovely, isn’t he? Great manners. Excellent dancer!”

Yes, Elain didn’t argue, he was all of those things, but didn’t Gwyn understand that it was an act? Azriel was rough around the edges, with a potty mouth, a dry, taunting, sarcastic sense of humour, full of abrasive comments and inappropriate innuendo. That’s how Azriel was. He wasn’t some dark gallant knight. Yes, his manners were fine, and he could hold his own in any company, and he knew how to dress smartly and hold a conversation, but Elain knew the ‘real’ Azriel. And she loved the real Azriel.

“Gwyn, I…” she began saying, but Gwyn interrupted her.

“Thank you, Elain. I didn’t think it was going to happen, and that you’d be able to find someone for me, but you truly are a miracle worker!”

“Gwyn, are you sure that Mr. Night is…interested?” Elain didn’t know how to ask her politely. She didn’t add ‘in you’.

“Well, yes! I know we initially thought that he’d just be there for the gala, but I want to see where it will go. I don’t know yet, it’s so new, but,”

“I don’t think he is available!” Elain blurted out, feeling confused and anxious.

“Oh, I know. Not now,” Gwyn laughed. “He is playing today! I am going to watch the game–for the first time,”

She didn’t even like football!

Piglet trotted into the room, wearing his Arsenal shirt. He was ready for the game too.

“Well, thanks again,” Gwyn said, “I’ll keep you posted on how things go.”

As soon as she hung up, Elain frantically texted ‘ring me!’ and then she added more ‘!!!!!!!’

She knew that Azriel was prepping for the game right now and wouldn’t be available right away, but he’d ring right before, so she could wish him a good game. And she always sent him a photo of Piglet in his kit.

Only this time, Azriel did not call back.

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