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florencemtrash · 5 months

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Heads Will Roll | Azriel x Reader Oneshot

Warnings: Violence (aka Reader kills some fae and Rhysand and Azriel are 100% cool with it), fluff

One of Koschei's followers turns up to the Court of Nightmares prepared to make a bargain: your life in exchange for Ataraxia. But he'll soon learn that you are not to be underestimated, and you are always exactly where you want to be.

Azriel bristled from behind Feyre’s shoulder when the male winnowed into the Court of Nightmares in a dramatic display of power that had everyone beneath the dais falling back.

He was all sharp lines, emboldened by the pure black silhouette of his cape that flared out behind him, teasingly parting to reveal the bone white sword strapped to his right hip that seemed to whisper with horrible power. The only piece of him that didn’t look like it was cut from death and destruction were his bright blue eyes - startlingly innocent and all the more unnerving for it. He fit in well with the violence the Court of Nightmares naturally radiated.

Rhysand’s eyebrow curled up in a look of carefully crafted boredom from atop his obsidian throne. The only one who looked more nonchalant than him was Feyre. She tilted her head up, staring down the slant of her nose to the unknown male as he extended his arms and bowed as prettily as a bird.

“Greetings.” Even his voice was sharp and cutting. “To the Lord and Lady.”

Cassian frowned from behind Rhysand’s back at the omission of their proper title. To the outside, Rhysand was anything if not bored. Inside, he was ready to blow the male to bits. He wore Koschei’s stamp on his forehead, red and dripping like a fresh wound.

Neither the High Lord nor the High Lady deigned to reply.

The male only smiled. All teeth.

“I come to you on behalf of my master.” His smile grew. More teeth. “You may have heard his name.”

“Koschei.” The name rolled off Feyre’s lips as easily as if she were ordering a meal - blasé and unimportant. But the name shifted the energy in the room, stirring up hornet's nests of gossip. Heads bowed towards one another like grass stalks in the wind, whispering.

Feyre tapped one finger on her forehead, “He has a fondness for marking his followers.”

“Like a collar on a dog.” Rhysand finished. He stroked the bond, grounded by the feeling of Feyre’s very soul on the other side. She had always been - and always would be - his calm.

“My name is Darwynn.” The male tipped his white head, “And I bring news from my master. News you may find worthy of your time.”

Azriel’s heart picked up in his chest.

He knew what was coming - the words that would soon slip out of Darwynn’s mouth. You’d been gone for over a week and he felt your absence from his side as intensely as if someone had ripped the wings from his back. Empty, cold, and unbalanced.

For the first three days he hadn’t worried, even as the bond lay dormant in his chest. It wasn’t uncommon for you to hunt after secrets, unraveling mysteries like threads in a coat or diving into the unknown with an insatiable appetite.

Three days were nothing. But nine days was getting to be concerning.

“Go on.” Feyre said with a wave of her hand, looking more interested in the glass of wine in her hand than anything else.

Darwynn reached into his pocket and pulled out a thin string of silver stained with blood - a necklace crafted from unbreakable metal with a deep blue pendant swaying like a pendulum. It was a piece of one of Azriel’s siphons, imbued with a small measure of his power and given to you as a Solstice gift after you’d accepted the bond. In the twenty years you’d been together, you’d never once taken it off. It was unnatural to see it swinging in the cruel male's hands.

Cassian growled. Azriel’s jaw clenched, beautiful brows lifting only ever so slightly in surprise. It was the only expression the Shadowsinger had shown all night.

Rhysand mirrored his expression. “Ahhhh yes, my sister. How long has she been missing for now, Az?” Rhysand looked back at him, some unspoken agreement passing through that brief glance. If this male had truly captured you, he would not be leaving this room with his head still on his shoulders.

“Nine days.” The Shadowsinger said, his mouth twitching to the side in a cryptic mix of a smirk and a snarl.

“You have her.” Feyre said. It wasn’t a question.

Darwynn’s eyes lit up with glee and he nodded, clapping his hands together like a child opening birthday presents.

“And what do you want for her? That is why you are here, is it not?” Feyre said once his “applause” ended.

Darwynn shook his finger at her, “It is comforting to know that since Amarantha’s trials, you’ve learned to - how shall I say this? Read between the lines.”

“Careful.” Rhysand said, a warning trapped within that honey-laced word. Feyre’s illiteracy was hardly a concern for anyone anymore - Rhysand had seen to that - but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a subject that smarted and burned when prodded.

Feyre’s dark red lips only turned up in a small smirk. Her mate would not allow any harm to befall her - even insults from pathetic creatures such as Darwynn.

"But I digress." Darwynn said silkily, “You should know she is uninjured-”

“Obviously,” Cassian huffed under his breath, stealing a glance at his brother beside him. Azriel was handling this surprisingly well. If it were Nesta who’d been kidnapped and held for ransom, Cassian would not be able to school his emotions so readily.

“And my master would like to make a trade.”

“A trade?” Rhysand said, displaying more interest in the subject than ever before. This was an opportunity to play Koschei’s hand. To gain whatever knowledge they could from the slippery sorcerer who was gaining more momentum each passing day. Koschei was still confined to his lake on the continent, but that didn’t mean he was powerless. No, not at all.

Darwynn pointed a knowing finger at Rhysand’s belt where Ataraxia rested as silent as the death that hung over a deep winter’s night.

“I see.” Rhysand said.

So that’s what he wants. Feyre spoke to him through the bond, Some trace of Nesta’s power.

Y/n was right. He wants to leave the lake.

And he needs whatever power Nesta took from the Cauldron to do it.

Rhys hummed in thought, one finger lazily tracing the edge of his drink. He knew his sister, knew the power that raced through her veins, and she was not one to be trifled with. But people loved to underestimate her - the poor second child too weak and damaged to fight after losing her wings to the old High Lord of Spring. The female who rested on her brother’s strength and crown like a sapling tied to a stake. She wielded those assumptions carefully. It was perhaps one of her greatest weapons.

Nine days. She’d been gone for nine days. Nine days since he’d sent her on a mission to the continent to spy on Koschei’s followers. Six days since anyone had heard from her. Three days since her scheduled return.

Azriel stiffened and blinked - a movement so subtle that only Rhys, Cass, and Feyre noticed. All at once the tension left Rhysand's shoulders. Such a reaction from Az could only mean one thing - you'd arrived.

Rhysand clicked his tongue disapprovingly, taking a deep draught of his wine and muttered, “She’s late.”

“She likes to be thorough.” Azriel said with the smallest of smiles.

“Even so. I don’t like to be kept waiting. She could’ve been captured sooner. Escaped earlier. Given us notice that she was coming.” He shook his raven black hair.

Azriel smirked, feeling the strength of the bond in his chest. Never wavering, “Maybe she finally decided to adopt your flair for the dramatic.” His golden hazel eyes flickered upward for the briefest of moments and you flashed him a quick smile from where you hid in the mountain rock above.

You’d only just opened your side of the bond, love and reassurance rolling over him like a flood. You were safe. You were whole. And you had carried out your plan beautifully.

Sorry to keep you waiting, my love. I had business to attend to. You spoke to your mate and only him.

I'd wait forever for you. You know that.

He felt your laughter through the bond like the fresh rain.

Who would've guessed the Spymaster's such a romantic.

Only for you. Only for you.

Darwynn narrowed his eyes, lips flattening into a thin line as pale as the moon. Something had changed in the air and he couldn't put his finger on it. This wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting. He knew the Inner Circle were practiced in hiding their emotions but this… they almost looked pleased. Cassian especially was grinning like a madman, suppressing his laughter as Rhysand sent his thoughts to his mind.

“My master keeps good on his promises. But until you give me the bade, I can’t promise you what pieces of your wife there will be left to bring back.” Darwynn snarled, even as that feeling of dread grew in his stomach. He’d walked in here so confident. He needed to regain that confidence. He relaxed his shoulders. Stood up taller.

A wet thud echoed throughout the hall. Someone screamed - a female with blue-gray skin reeled backward, one hand clamped over her mouth in horror as she tripped over her blood-splattered silks.

A decapitated head - warm, oozing, and less than a day old - lolled on the floor. Its eyes were frozen in a look of surprised horror.

Darwynn’s heart stuttered to a stop when he recognized the bloated and bruised face. The face of one of his strongest males, left behind on the continent to watch over Koschei’s prison.

Rhysand smirked and raised his wine glass towards Darwynn. The High Lord’s power flooded out over the room, knitting together a powerful web of magic that made it impossible for anyone to winnow in or out. Except for you of course - his darling sister who never failed to find the weak points in his magic and slip through as slyly as a cat.

“There’s something you should know about my dear sister.” Rhysand’s voice boomed over the near-silent room without even trying.

A second head dropped from the ceiling. Then a third. Then a fourth. Laid out in a neat little arc around Darwynn.

“She never gets caught. She is always precisely where she wants to be.”

Azriel’s eyes were trained on the slate gray arches overheard where he could just barely make out your form as you winnowed around the room, hiding in the shadows and dropping your gruesome packages in a neat circle around Darwynn’s shaking form.

The male unsheathed his sword, spinning around madly and counting every thud until all twelve of your guards were accounted for.

All dead.

All of them.

He growled dangerously, eyes beginning to glow a brilliant, icy blue as he aimed his power at the dais, right towards Rhysand. Azriel smiled with cruel satisfaction when you slipped out from behind Darwynn’s silhouette, bloodied and menacing. The knife glinted in the faelight, catching the curve of your arm as you spun around and drove the weapon through Darwynn’s eye. The light wrapping around him fizzled out into anything.

The male rocked on his feet, arms going slack and dropping the sword with a clatter on the ground. His legs gave out soon after, his body crumpling in on itself as easily as paper.

You calmly rolled down the sleeves of your blood-soaked shirt, flicking a piece of gore off your shoulder in a manner so similar to Rhysand that your brother couldn't help but chuckle.

You flashed him a grin - a stroke of white brushed across a red splattered canvas.

“Brother.” You said, tipping your chin up in a show of greeting.

“A bit dramatic, don’t you think, sister?” Rhysand gestured out to the Court of Nightmares. You spared them a look. Everyone looked positively sinful in their scraps of silk and exposed skin, silent and trembling as their dinners burned their way up from their stomachs to their throats.

You shrugged and winked at Rhys, “I learned from the best.”

“Go get cleaned up.” He said. It was a clear and direct command, but you didn’t miss the warmth and hint of pride in his voice.

“As my High Lord commands.” You said, bowing deeply.

At home. Rhysand spoke in your mind as you straightened. Get some rest. You did well.

You sighed in relief, happy that you would be free from whatever Court of Nightmare business left to attend to.

Thank you.

There was a brief pause before Rhysand continued, But next time you plan to get kidnapped, let me know. I was actually starting to worry and I’m not sure my old heart can take it.

You snorted, I’ll keep your elderly constitution in mind next time.

You dipped your head once more before winnowing to the River House. The smell of home nearly knocked you off your feet.

There would be more time to joke around with your brother - more time to tell him everything you’d learned - but right now you were in desperate need of a bath.

______________

You sank into your third bath of the night, groaning in pleasure as the hot water rolled over your aching muscles. The first two baths had purely functioned to scrub off the dried blood from your hair and skin. The majority of it wasn’t yours. But this bath, with all the fragrant oils and scents, was for enjoyment and relaxation.

It was no easy business getting kidnapped, and no easy business escaping. But like every other mission, you’d made away like a bandit in the night, carrying with you priceless pieces of knowledge and enough secrets to demolish an entire court.

Your eyes flickered open at the feeling of shadows lacing around your arms, soothing your skin with a cool touch that was no replacement for the hands that followed.

Finally your mate had decided to join you.

You sighed in happiness as Azriel trailed his fingers up your arms, scarred hands landing at your neck and gently tilting your head back so he could plant a firm kiss on your lips.

The bond sang within your chest more joyfully than a songbird. You didn’t like silencing this connection, you didn’t like shutting Azriel out, but sometimes your work necessitated it. It was for your safety as much as his. But no one understood that more than the Spymaster of the Night Court.

“Hello, my love.” Azriel’s voice vibrated through the air, warming your chest and shaking your bones.

“Hello, Azriel.” You murmured, soapy hands trailing through his raven black hair so that he was completely surrounded by your scent.

“Gods, I missed you.” He said. He knelt on the tiled floor behind you, wrapping his arms around your bare chest as he buried his face in your neck and breathed you in. “I missed you so much." A kiss on your neck, "So, so much.”

“I missed you too.” You murmured, pulling him around to the side of the tub so that you could see him better. You traced the faint purple bruises beneath his eyes. Not an unfamiliar sight. Azriel had never been a restful sleeper, but since mating and marrying you, he’d been spoiled rotten and now could barely sleep a wink without you curled up in his arms.

“Sorry I messed up your hair.” You apologized, twirling the now damp strands of his hair so they curled around your fingers.

He smiled. It was a rare sight to anyone other than you, but seeing him happy never ceased to warm your bones.

“You did well, darling.” He said, smoothing back your hair before saying more seriously, “But next time could you tell me your plans before you shut me out?”

You winced. “I’m sorry. There wasn’t time.”

“I figured as much.” Azriel said, kissing your cheeks to show that he wasn’t upset. You leaned into his touch as he traced your cheekbones with his thumbs.

You were the most precious thing in the world to him. More precious than his wings. More precious than his freedom. More precious than the 500 hundred years it had taken him to finally realize what you were to him. The thought of losing you was more painful than a knife to the stomach.

“You can trust me.” You said, “I know how to handle myself.”

Azriel chuckled and shook his head, “I am very well aware of both those things,” He tilted his head in thought, “And I’m fairly certain everyone else also knows now.”

You blushed, “Maybe it was a bit much.”

Azriel shrugged, “Maybe. Maybe not. All I know is one thing.”

“And what is this one thing?” You asked, leaning forward and capturing his lips in another kiss. He tasted like cedar and rain. He tasted like home.

“That you should never be afraid of showing your power. Never. No matter what happens. No matter what people say.”

His hand that had been cradling the back of your neck moved down, tracing the scars on your shoulder blades where your wings had once been. You shivered under his touch, but didn’t recoil. He understood. He was perhaps the only person who understood what it meant to have such a physical piece of yourself taken away.

You kissed his hands, taking care to feel every valley beneath your lips and worship them. They were a part of him now, tied to him as much as his shadows were, and so how could you not love them? How could you not love him? This male who was your equal in every way imaginable and who made you feel happier and safer than you ever thought possible.

He helped you out of the bathtub, drying your skin and hair before carefully brushing through all the tangles and knots.

“I should go report to Rhys.” You said with little determination as Azriel laid you out on the bed and then crawled under the covers beside you, pulling you against his chest and wrapping you both under the protective cover of his wings.

“Let it wait until tomorrow. Let me have you tonight.”

You smiled, “I’ve only been gone nine days.”

His hazel eyes melted into yours. “Nine days too long, Y/n.”

You could never deny him anything when he looked at you like that, so full of feeling and a rawness too intense for words. And it wasn’t like you were dying to leave this bed and chase after your brother. Like Azriel had said - it could wait until tomorrow. So you melted into his arms and watched as Azriel slowly fell into a deep sleep for the first time in nine days.

______________

Author's note:

A woman covered in the blood of her enemies is *chef's kisses*

That's it. That's the note.

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x rhysand's sister #rhysand's sister #acotar fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #inner circle x reader #the inner circle #azriel x you #azriel #shadowsinger x reader #feyre archeron #rhysand #high lord rhysand #High Lady feyre #cassian #cassian acotar

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florencemtrash · 5 months

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Flame, Shadow, Beast : Beast II

Azriel x Reader x Eris

Summary: Years after Eris frees you from his father’s prison, you’ve managed to find a new love, new friends, and build a life for yourself in Autumn. But when a certain Shadowsinger stumbles upon your home, dragging in painful memories of betrayal and longing, you’ll have to face the things you left in the past and make choices about the future you want.

Warnings: Angst and allusions to torture and death.

Flame, Shadow, Beast: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

You sat on Eris’s bed, your gorgeous dress crumbled beside you with the crown resting on top of the heap. It silently mocked you as you wrapped his robe closer around your body, burying your face in his scent. You shut your eyes and looked away from the door where Bryaxis was currently pacing on the other side.

Eris, Halvor, and Aurelia had been gone for two hours. Locked away in his official chambers discussing the matter of your bond with Azriel.

“My Lady-”

“Don’t call me that, Myrah.” The blademaiden had similarly tossed aside her glittering gown of silk and metal, choosing instead thin armor of bronze and soft leather. It was better suited for her slick style of fighting. She didn’t say anything as she climbed onto the sheets behind you and began to brush the tangles out of your damp hair.

“He won’t send you away.” She finally said after your hair had been brushed, oiled, and braided.

The bond fluttered as if in disappointment. You shoved it deeper, willing it to disappear entirely.

“He may not have a choice.”

Autumn couldn’t risk another war. Prythian couldn’t risk another war. But if Azriel dared to invoke the Blood Duel, no matter the outcome more blood would be shed.

No, he wouldn’t do that. You thought to yourself. Would he?

You’d heard of males doing worse things for less and Azriel was no male to be trifled with. And… He was in pain.

As much as you tried to ignore it, and as much as he tried to shield you from it, Azriel was hurting. You felt muted waves of it through the bond like washes of tide against the shoreline.

If only you hadn’t chosen tonight to wear the crown or the dress or to subtly declare yourself the future Lady of Autumn. If only you’d had them leave sooner or… maybe this had all been a mistake. Maybe all the time you’d spent in Autumn had been a mistake, even if you were happy. Maybe…

You looked around the room. The bedposts soared into the sky, disappearing into a ceiling that had been painted to look like the forest canopy. Colors of the sunset swirled down like wind. The roaring fire spread its molten heat across the warm wood furniture. Everyone spoke of the cruel beauty of the Forest House, its opulence and the disloyalty it housed within amber-encrusted walls. But you had only ever felt safe here. You’d fallen in love with all its old-fashioned peculiarities and the tales that had written themselves into the wood without anyone ever knowing.

There in the corner was a dresser with burned handprints crawling up the sides- courtesy of Eris sneaking into the room to visit his mother after he’d just learned to walk. There above the vanity were two magnificent elk horns, altered to look like wings in flight. Lucien had found them shed by the river when Eris had first taken him hunting. Little trinkets you’d bought for him littered the room alongside the additions Myrah, Halvor, and Aurelia had gifted him over the years. Your own belongings filled the spaces previously left cold and empty, just like you spent most nights filling the empty spaces in his bed.

You set your jaw.

“Myrah,” She looked at you with wide eyes, “I think it’s time I got dressed.”

“Eris specifically said not to let you out of his room. It could be dangerous.” Myrah said with a half-concealed smirk, walking beside you as you made your way towards Eris’s office.

The Forest House was impenetrable… but a Shadowsinger could get into places others couldn’t. You felt the bond within you, daring to follow the string to wherever Azriel lay on the other side. The smallest tug and Azriel was stirring. You pulled away almost immediately. He wasn’t anywhere near the Forest House.

“He also said you were to be my blademaiden. Remind me of what that entails.” You said, refusing to slow down.

“To protect you with my life. To follow your orders… To care for you as my best friend.”

You blinked and shot her a look. “The last part isn’t in your oath.”

She shrugged, “It’s not in my oath as a blademaiden… doesn’t mean I don’t have personal oaths I adhere to.”

You squeezed her hand and she squeezed back harder.

Whatever conversations had been going on when you burst through the door died immediately. Halvor and Samson - third in command and Autumn’s spymaster - bowed when you entered, looking like a storm on a mission to render the room to splinters. Aurelia dipped her head, eyes shifting between Eris and you with a hint of sadness. It shaved away at your confidence.

“I need to speak with Eris. May we have the room?” You said, phrasing it more as a command and less of a question.

Halvor nodded, making his way out with Samson and Myrah in tow. Aurelia lingered behind, squeezing Eris’s shoulder before waltzing out.

“What have you been discussing?” You said once the door had shut and you felt Eris’s magic wall up the sound in the room.

“I think you already know.” Eris said, standing up behind his desk and rubbing away the pressure building behind his eyes. He still wore his clothes from dinner and although he’d taken off his crown, a greater weight seemed to have fallen onto his shoulders.

Eris swallowed. He had a letter crumpled up in his hand, half-written and blotted with ink spills. It began to smolder and burn.

“We weren’t sure-I wasn’t sure…” his voice trailed off, “I wasn’t sure if you’d already made up your mind.”

“About?” “About going to him. About being with him.” The words sounded strangled, like they were beasts that had fought against being spoken out loud. “He is your mate.”

“I don’t care.”

Eris closed his eyes, “Y/n, I’m not-” “I said I don’t care.”

He refused to look into your eyes, hands splaying out on the table as he fought back the fear in his chest. He didn’t want you to go. He’d given more of himself to you than he’d ever dared to before, and you had protected that trust with a fierceness he’d never seen. But this was something wholly out of his control. Something that had been dictated by the Mother. Who was he to stand between you and your mate? “What if… If you choose me, what if you come to regret it? What if I can’t give you what a mating bond can?” He said softly, as if he’d already given up on the hope that you’d stay. It lit a fire in your soul.

“I don’t care what the powers-that-be say about us.” You said, storming around the desk, “I don’t care if some force decided I am his equal or that we would make strong children together.”

The bond was a sacred thing, more precious than anything land, gold, or blood could buy. But it was no guarantee of happiness. No guarantee of love. You would know, because you’d already found your happiness and love elsewhere.

You rushed forward, taking Eris’s face in your hands and feeling immediate relief when he didn’t move away. He leaned into your touch, turning his head to kiss the palms of your hands with reverence.

“I choose you, Eris. This hasn’t changed anything. Not for me.” You said with conviction.

“It hasn’t changed anything for me either.” Eris sighed in relief and touched his forehead against yours, your breaths mixing sweetly in the space between you two.

“I would choose you.” He whispered fiercely, “Every. Single. Time. I would go to war for you, my love. Come hell or high water.”

“I know,” You smiled, gently kissing on the lips and sighing when his warm hands traveled up the skin of your back, holding you to him, “I would do the same for you. But let us hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Eris showed you the letter, the corners singed and flaking, and you smoothed it out on the mahogany table. Rhysand had been quick to request another meeting. Tension and worry were scratched into the curves of his flowery handwriting as he explained the situation in diplomatic terms:

He was sorry for not attending the dinner. The Inner Circle had been unaware of the mating bond until it was too late. Azriel would behave himself and only come if called. The decision was yours. Whatever you chose, they wanted to continue being Autumn’s allies for the good of Prythian and to have you in their lives as friends, not enemies. It was delicate. Hopeful. A letter from someone who wanted peace as much as you did. Peace for his family. Peace for his son.

The letter placed you in a position where you could wait for the tidal wave to settle. But just like the last time, this was not an issue you could ignore forever. An ax would always linger over your head, swaying dangerously close to your neck until you spoke with Azriel. So although you didn’t agree to another visit with the Inner Circle, you did allow Azriel to come to Autumn again.

You stood by the border, whispers of frost bitten wind snaking through the white gaps in the trees and reaching for your ankles.

Samson and twelve of his best males and females stood behind you, archers at the ready and swordsmen with their hands gripping their hilts. They were more for Eris’s comfort than your own, and you would have your privacy when it mattered most.

Azriel emerged from the blizzard beyond like an ink stain on porcelain paper, bleeding into existence with his shadows swarming around him. He hadn’t been sleeping - you could tell from the faint bruises beneath his eyes. Somehow the imperfection made him more handsome, more mysterious. But you hadn’t had eyes for him in a long time.

“Come on.” You said, tilting your head towards the river that rushed and danced in the distance. You walked in silence, Azriel trailing behind like the shadow that he was and matching your shorter footsteps. He didn’t want to alarm you by overtaking you. Still, it was even more unnerving to know he was behind you without hearing or seeing him. You could only feel that bond tying you together, pulling you towards the male who walked ten paces behind.

You glanced back and he stopped, teeth clenching tightly as he looked at you. You were beautiful, shining in the burning forest like a flame. You’d always been beautiful and he had known this, but he hadn’t fully recognized it until it was far, far too late.

“Will you be slinking behind me the whole time like a kicked dog or will you walk beside me?” There was a biting humor in your voice that eased the tension in his shoulders. He walked beside you until you finally led him to the river. Any concerns that he might take this opportunity to survey the Autumn Court disappeared. He had his eyes on you the entire time like you were the only thing left in the world.

You sat down on the slick rock, dipping your bare feet into one of the clear streams that branched off from the river beyond, tumbling over boulders and stones with crisp clarity. Azriel took the cue to lower to the ground as well, his knee barely brushing against yours as he settled his magnificent wings on the cool stone.

“I’m sorry about Elain.” You said after a while of staring at the water.

Azriel winced.

Maybe it was the wrong thing to say. It was no secret that five years after the Autumn Court war ended, Elain had quietly moved to the Sun Palace and mated Lucien. You’d met her briefly when he’d visited Eris, and as much as you wished you could resent her, she’d been lovely and kind, and kept good on her promise not to say anything about you to her family. You understood why Azriel had loved her… why he’d chosen her.

“I didn’t… I didn’t continue things with her after you were gone.” He said, choosing his words with care. His voice was rougher than usual, the sound rumbling out from his chest like the rolling of thunder. “It never felt right… I never felt right. I suppose I understand why now.”

He looked at you hopefully, hazel eyes wide and uncertain as he gently sent his thoughts down the bond. You shivered, feeling echoes of his love and longing for you along with the shame and guilt that accompanied it.

He hated himself for the decisions he’d made. He had thought that Elain was meant for him - three sisters for three brothers. It seemed so simple, so obvious. So with each year that the mating bond hadn’t fallen into place, dark voices had whispered in his mind that he wasn’t truly a member of his family. Always an outsider. Always alone. It was why he’d traded you for Elain. A choice born out of a desperate desire to be loved and accepted. It was the worst mistake he had made in his life.

“Azriel. I can’t.” You said, shaking your head and breaking eye contact.

“Can’t, or won’t.” He hadn’t touched you yet, but you saw his scarred hands flex out of the corner of his eyes, inching ever closer to where yours rested in your lap.

“Both.”

You thought back to the first days you’d spent in the caves: Your wounds fresh and bleeding, the itching and pulsing of your burned flesh somehow getting worse as they healed, the desperation that came from existing in complete and total darkness. The only sounds you’d heard being the crunch and moans of the other poor souls that Beron sent down.

It still hurt to think about and you didn’t believe it would ever go away.

“I learned something the day you left me.”

“Y/n. Please-” He whispered, begging. His hands reached out for yours, and you let him.

You smiled sadly, tracing the scars that marred his hands. All the terrible past things that still clung to him. Things he could never forget.

“Please.” He didn’t even know what he was begging for. He knew he didn’t deserve your forgiveness. He didn’t deserve the right to call you his mate. But… he could hope.

You traced over the scars once more, then let go of his hands.

“I learned I was never part of your family. Not truly. I was the one you were willing to sacrifice, not the one you’d burn down the world for.”

Azriel swallowed thickly, pulling back on the shadows that had escaped his control and had begun to curl around your arms and your legs.

He shook his head, “That’s not true. You have always been a part of this family. You will always be a part of this family.”

You stayed silent.

“Is there… is there any chance at all for me to fix this?” Azriel asked. His hands now rested in between his knees, clasped so tightly together the pale skin of his scars blended into nothing. “To convince you to come back.”

“No. No, I don’t think so.”

He closed his eyes and deflated. A tear streaked down his cheek, dripping onto his lap.

“I won’t leave him, Azriel. I won’t. Not for anyone. Not even for you.” “I know.” He whispered.

“I don’t… I don’t hate you. I never did. And I’m glad that Elain is alright. It probably was the right decision to make. I don’t know if Beron would have let Elain live. Not even as his prisoner.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t say that just to spare my feelings or to try and make things better.”

“That’s not why I’m saying it.”

Azriel stood up, furiously wiping away his tears and burying the feelings deep. He buried the bond even deeper and for the first time since the bond had snapped into place for you, you felt silence.

You looked at him sadly. He hadn’t changed since the last time you saw him. He still loved deeply and hurt deeply too.

You stood by his side, watched the river wind its way through the woods.

“It’s a beautiful place.” Azriel said softly, “I can see why you love it. And I… I understand why you love him. I do. I just wish it was me.” He swallowed thickly.

“You’ll find someone else, Azriel. I know you will.” You said, offering him a small, sad smile.

He didn’t return it. Just looked at you for as long as he could, drinking in the sight of you.

The next time he saw you he’d be calling you High Lady of Autumn. You’d be bound to this place and its magic, and he would never see you like this again. Gone were the days when you’d collapse on his office couch, chatting his ear off to help him forget the terrible things he’d done, or the days where you’d perch by the window in silence just to remind him he wasn’t alone. Gone were the nights where he’d gather you in his arms and shoot off into the sky to count the stars and find peace. He wanted those days back. He would have done anything to get those days back.

“No. I won’t.” Azriel said quietly and then said nothing more.

You took the cue and led him through the woods, tracing a path between the trees no one from outside the Autumn Court would be able to recognize.

Samson bowed when you reached him, signaling his warriors to fall back. You would have your privacy.

When Azriel stepped over the threshold back into the Winter Court, you felt the magic in the air change, sealing the Shadowsinger out of your home. He pressed his hand against it, momentary panic freezing his lungs as he saw that you remained on the other side.

You breathed in deeply, steeling yourself for the words you were about to speak.

“Azriel, I will say this once, and only once. If you so much as lay a finger on Eris or my home, I will never forgive you. I won’t hesitate to protect what’s mine.”

“I know.” He said. The small smile he gave was full of heartache. He wished he’d done so many things differently, then maybe he would have been so lucky to hear you threaten someone to protect him. It was a terrible fate to be on this side of things.

“If… if anything happens - anything at all - know that I will always be here to help you. Promise me that you know.” “I know.” You said sadly. “I hope you find someone, Az. I really do. But that person will not be me.”

He nodded.

You didn’t look away, not as he held up both hands and pressed his forehead against the barrier. It was his own silent way of saying goodbye. Then, just as he had appeared, his shadows swallowed him whole, carrying him away to the Night Court where you hoped he would find a life that would make him forget all about this pain.

“Goodbye, Az.” You whispered.

But he was already gone.

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Author's Note:

Might write some Azriel x Reader oneshots to make myself feel better after wrecking my own heart.

Sorry for this chapter, everyone. But Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate. Lol.

Love,

Florence B.

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