#i know this feels more like a nesta/house of wind fic

[stxrvel]

the cliff (1)

hi guys! this is the first azriel fic i post here. i mainly do marvel but i just couln't stop thinking about this so i decided to take it forward. i hope you guys like this! see u next time <;33

summary: you never thought that the road to your mate could bring so much suffering… pairing: azriel x f!reader words: +4k warnings: briefly descriptions of torture, bad words, descriptions of sorrow¿?, angst but a happy ending, i think. also, English is not my first language and i actually read acotar in another language, so sorry for any mistakes! and also!! i haven't read a court of silver flames, so probably the facts around cassian and nesta's bond and feyre's pregnancy aren't accurate, sorry for that!

part 2: the house

part 3: the court

part 4: the routine

You were sure that the decisions you had made shouldn't have led you to that place. With your limp legs dragging against the grass, the wet feel of the mud drying coldly on your skin with each gale, increasing the chills that ran through your body, not only because of the dread and fear you had for your life, but because of the scorching frost on the top of that cliff.

There was something magical about wishing upon a shooting star. You knew it, your parents were living proof that it worked. They had met just after your mother had wished upon a dying star. Mates. And they promised you it would be the same for you. You hoped it would be the same for you when, encouraged by your same parents, you wandered Prythian in search of meeting the other end of the bond that you knew connected you to someone beyond, in search of a connection greater than you could ever understand.

You firmly believed in that magic one night, in the midst of the lonely and almost desolate journey from end to end, when lying watching the night sky you saw it pass by. A helpless shooting star.

You made your wish with your heart in your hand, closing your eyes and whispering as if it were a prayer. Maybe it was. You didn't know if that was what had gone wrong.

All you knew was that, the next day, your journey was over.

You hadn't finished waking up when you found yourself being dragged across the ground of the Day Court, right at the border it shared with the Night Court, from the hands of Ilyrian soldiers who wouldn't listen to your shouted words. Or simply preferred to ignore them.

You weren't sure how much you had screamed at them, even as they took you in the most savage way possible and furrowed you through the wind, the cold gusts of the Nightmare Court piercing your skin. But it had to have been a good while, because the next time you were above ground your throat was so dry you could barely breathe.

You didn't know what was going on, not even when days later, after feeding yourself with only mush and water, you met the first person willing to tell you something and not turn his face away from you. It was a man, Ilyrian too, with gigantic black wings that covered almost all the light in the small room where you were held captive. His constant presence invoked darkness.

He never introduced himself. He would only ask “who sent you?”, waiting for a sane answer from you, one that you couldn't give because every time you tried to say something that was not remotely like what he wanted to hear, he would move two fingers of his left hand and two more soldiers would enter the room and grab you roughly by the arms, pulling you closer to a barrel with water that was in the corner of the room. That was the water you usually drank, and it was never as cold as when they entered the room.

Needless to say, after a couple of days, you couldn't even go near the water anymore.

It could've been a couple of days, weeks or months… you weren't sure anymore. Time had become an insignificant concept compared to your desire for freedom. You had explained countless times to the Ilyrian the reasons why they had found you wandering near the Court, but that wasn't enough. Not even when you told him that they could confirm it with your family in the Summer Court. No excuse was good enough, the Ilyrian seemed to simply want to find a culprit, whatever he had to do, whoever he had to point the finger at.

And then, one day, you thought you saw a glimmer of hope. Another lone shooting star, which you barely caught through the bars the room had for windows. The memory of your parents flooded your memory, a dark cloud settling over you and drowning out any sense of calm you were able to collect after the ilyrians left. Through tears and sobs you begged the star for a way out, hoping its magic was powerful enough to fight the savage soldiers.

The next day more ilyrians than usual appeared, but they did not enter the room. Not after the High Lord of the Night Court did so first.

And you thought the star had heard you.

“She didn't say anything?”

His dismissive, indifferent tone almost made you shudder on the icy floor, but you didn't let that take away your hope, kneeling in front of him with dried tears and dirt on your face. With your hands clasped in front of you, as if he were a deity personified, you begged him to listen to you, but you had to watch him send you a disinterested glance before he turned in the direction of the entrance.

“Take her away.”

You didn't know why you had expected the high lord to intercede on your behalf, knowing the stories that brimmed through the Courts in Prythian. Your parents had warned you. They encouraged you to pursue the bond on your chest, but begged you to go no further than Court Day if the bond demanded it. They made you promise to return, and that they would then seek a way to find your mate if he or she was beyond the Night Court. You should've heeded, of course you did. When you saw the cold, emotionless eyes of the high lord's face, you regretted every decision you had made.

Even though you knew it shouldn't have been that way, because you had never done anything wrong. You had never tried to harm someone. Maybe that made it harder. Wondering every night why. Why did you deserve to go through that? What evil was it that you were paying for?

There was something magical about wishing on a shooting star, but that magic wasn't guarded for you.

-

Azriel had been spending sleepless nights for weeks now, without explanation. Things were quiet in Velaris, even in the Court of Nightmares. But when he entered the darkness of his room at night, when he tried to close his eyes with his wings spread across the bed, a knot stirred in his chest. Tears would well up behind his eyes and a sadness would engulf him from head to toe. It was so overwhelming that there were few nights when Azriel could contain the feelings and despair of his shadows.

He tried not to let that deficiency interrupt his work, but it was difficult when his eyes would close at the table during breakfast, or in the middle of the room when Rhys talked about the weekly goals. Several times his friends would start asking questions, but it was easy for Azriel to say he had trouble sleeping because that was never an uncommon occurrence over the course of his long life.

It was once Rhys told him that he had told Madja about his problem and she had sent him some herbs that it all started to get weirder.

Yes, Azriel was able to fall asleep. But every night he had strange dreams. Dreams of a life that was not his own. Memories of someone else he didn't even know. Another woman's life, somewhere Azriel could barely remember when he woke up, with more people who must have been close to her, but not to him, who shared her day to day life, who celebrated together with her, who were happy. Azriel didn't wake up much better in the mornings than when he spent the whole night without sleep.

Now he not only had to deal with the heaviness of lack of sleep, but with the questions. He could never think they were random dreams because he heard the same laughter every time, the same voice, the same place. He felt the same tranquility before waking up.

Azriel believed Madja would be his source of answers then.

“Your mate is looking for you,” the old woman answered him, one sunny day in Velaris when he chased her through her tent hoping she would answer his one question. That stopped him abruptly on his feet, his body from the abdomen upward leaning forward a bit from the suddenness of the movement.

“Mate?”

Madja barely hissed in response, a sound of affirmation that would haunt Azriel for several days afterward.

“How is that possible?”

“What?”

Madja was turning her back to him, her small body hunched over as she inspected the medicinal plants she kept for sale. Azriel watched them along with her, his mind moving through the threads of thoughts, between every memory of his dreams and every memory…of her.

“How can she do that?”

Azriel heard Madja sigh and the sound of metal followed as she dropped the gray watering can she had kept for years into place. Azriel could still remember the first time it had been seen, shiny and pompous in the Velaris sunlight. Madja's brown eyes roamed over his face and Azriel hadn't felt this way since the time when Rhys's mom had looked at him with loving motherly eyes.

“Don't ask me how the bond works, Shadowsinger. The Cauldron knows how it does things.”

Azriel could sleep less after that. Madja had left him with more questions than answers. And, on that note, Azriel began to fly over Velaris more often. For some reason, he felt she was close. The bond hadn't snapped into place yet, but he knew that the time was near when that would happen. He didn't even know if it had snapped for her yet, all he knew was that he had a mate over there, too far away from him, and too scared for him to stand idly by.

Eventually, Azriel had to talk to Rhysand. Rhys, his high lord, his best friend, his brother. Probably the only person in the Inner Circle who could fully understand how he felt at those moments. Because Azriel felt he was going to lose his mind if he didn't find his mate and end whatever suffering she was going through. The uncertainty was eating him alive and the hours of hopelessness and fear that were going on inside him, around that emptiness in his chest, did not ease things at all. If he felt this way from the comfort of his home, he didn't want to imagine what she was going through.

Rhysand agreed to allow him more outings to enlarge the perimeter of his search, but the passing days proved his effort fruitless.

“Everything okay, brother?”

Cassian had met his mate. Nesta, Feyre's sister. Azriel was very happy for him, very happy that his brothers had found their life mates and that he could realize the good they brought into their lives. But there was a huge shadow that haunted him, beyond the darkness he carried with him, and it had much to do with the guilt of not being able to find and deliver his mate from suffering. He no longer knew how much time had passed. His shadows stirred restlessly every day, with every memory, with every gale.

Azriel sighed when he felt Cassian's hand on his left shoulder, as they both stood watching Velaris from the top of a mountain.

“I don't know what to do anymore, Cassian,” Azriel let out, his shoulders slumping under the pressure and stress.

He usually didn't talk about the subject of his mate with his brothers, not as often as someone would think to be so close. It was something Azriel held close to his heart and wanted to resolve on his own, but so many failures were beginning to weigh him down.

Cassian patted his shoulder and then gave it a squeeze, trying to silently comfort him, though he knew that would do little to soothe the clamor in his soul. Because, though the bond hadn't snapped for Azriel, he could well believe that he had had it tugging at his chest in an unfamiliar direction for months now. Even if he didn't feel the bond, the mere acknowledgement of its existence was agony, especially when it didn't help him find his mate.

Cassian sighed beside him, letting a few seconds pass in silence before speaking again, his gaze fixed on Velaris' expanse and his heart shrinking at the visible suffering on his brother's face.

“Rhysand is traveling to the camp, will you accompany us?”

Azriel lately had little desire for anything other than touring Velaris and the surrounding area of the Court of Nightmares looking for his mate, but this time he decided to accept. For some reason, Azriel decided to accompany them.

The Night had been feuding with the Summer for a couple of years. Tarquin and Rhysand… were not on the best of terms. The last time Feyre had traveled to the Summer, pregnant with Nyx, Tarquin and his army had held her captive because of a misunderstanding in the information they had obtained from the Spring Court and the Mortal Lands. Rhysand almost destroyed the entire Summer Court with his bare hands if not for Cassian and Azriel, who were able to broker a deal between the two as mediators. It was a very tense time at the beginning.

Mind you, Rhysand did not leave without letting Tarquin know that it would be years before they would return to the same trade, diplomatic and friendly relations as before, if they could ever speak of forgiveness. Azriel remembered how the only person from the Night Court who could cross Tarquin's lands, for a time, was Mor. They were all warned and the meetings of the high lords were suspended, at least with respect to attendance.

For that reason, Rhysand became extremely wary of anyone connected with the Summer Court and for him, being the high lord, it was not too much work to know who wandered near his lands. They had already captured a handful of Summer Court spies in recent years and held them captive in camp with the Ilyrian soldiers.

Of course, the Night Court was much more careful with their spying, having Shadowsinger himself on their side. Azriel had visited the Summer Court a couple of times by stealth, handing Rhysand reports and any strategic breakthroughs he could decipher.

There was one, however, that they could not foresee. Someone Azriel never knew was coming out of the Summer Court. It had been a couple of years since then and it seemed the Ilyrians had been unable to break the spy's stone will.

“Are you going all the way to the mountain?” Rhysand had stopped in front of Azriel as soon as his feet touched the grassy ground, a few feet from the entrance to the camp. His eyes flicked briefly to the bustle behind his high lord, his shoulders tensing unconsciously as he took slow steps towards Rhysand with his hands in the pockets of his tunic and his wings tucked neatly behind his back. Cassian landed behind him, kicking up a layer of wet grass and mud that soiled his boots.

“Argh.”

“I think I'll be at a distance this time.”

Rhysand nodded, with no intention of convincing Azriel to accompany him to give the imprisoned spies of the Summer a death scare.

“I hope the screams are worth this mudslinging,” Cassian spoke up, moving closer to his two friends, forming a small circle. Rhysand barely gave him a glance before turning on his heels and beginning to make his way to the entrance of the camp, where some of the soldiers were clustered to see the high lord. “You're going to be in the bay?”

“Yes,” Azriel walked alongside Cassian, scowling at the entrance through which Rhysand had just crossed, the Ilyrian soldiers freezing in front of their high lord. “I'll watch from afar. Right now I don't have the stomach for anything.”

“I understand, brother,” Cassian squeezed his shoulder again amicably, sending him a tight-lipped look. Cassian was quite good with words, despite many labeling him as insensitive for being Ilyrian, but he knew Azriel well enough to know when he wanted to talk about something and when he preferred not to. “See you then.”

Cassian followed in Rhysand's footsteps, approaching in long strides, while Azriel paused watching his companions disappear into the distance.

Sighing, the knot in his chest tightened. It was so strange to have a void that could feel so many things. Azriel often wondered how it was possible that he still didn't feel the bond, when his emotions had expanded out of his head and there was no longer a feeling he didn't sense inside his bones.

Flapping his wings to take flight, Azriel set off towards the bay, close to the cliff where Rhysand planned to take the Summer Court spies. He was a few yards away, close enough to make out figures, but not too far away that he couldn't hear the screams.

As soon as his feet touched the ground, damp despite the early rising sun, his shadows began to stir around him, restless. They must've sensed his nervousness, the anxiety that ran through his chest like electric currents to his fingertips, causing him to spasm and break out in a cold sweat. Azriel could barely see them moving around him, separating from his body and stirring on the ground just a few centimeters before turning back.

At the top of the cliff he could already make out the figures of Rhysand and Cassian, walking menacingly towards the inmates, leaving them no choice but to keep walking backwards until they fell into the void, where Cassian would then land them, one by one. Azriel could hear them if he wanted to, but his mind and his shadows kept him a bit distracted.

He barely made out the first screams and the sound of Cassian's wings when his shadows began to whisper, much more restless.

Close.

Close.

Help.

Fear.

Help.

Azriel raised his head and his eyes stopped just short of Rhysand's figure in front of about three spies. At that moment, Azriel's shadows took off, moving at great speed across the grass and stones, with the Shadowsinger unable to do anything to stop them, though he tried. His confused gaze swept over the small figures on the cliff, with such speed that his head was beginning to ache, but he couldn't recognize anything.

He was about to fly in the direction his shadows had gone, when a strange, overwhelming sensation, somewhere between irrational fear and deep sadness, sent his back to the ground moving across his chest, as one of the figures slipped and fell into the void. Azriel felt all the air stolen from his lungs, opening his mouth to try to catch his breath, as those sensations coursed through his entire body and settled in his chest, taking strong root as if they belonged there. They were so overwhelming that they caused him physical pain. The ache he must've been feeling for months.

The bond.

The few remaining shadows beside him whispered endlessly.

Help.

Help.

Help.

Azriel raised his head, breathing hard. He felt his chest split open, as if with great force they were breaking his sternum to pull out his heart. It was such an overwhelming and painful sensation that, but for his strong will, he would surely have lost consciousness.

Help.

Help.

Mate.

Mate.

Azriel thought afterwards that he had never moved so fast or with such force as that moment, when he realized what was happening. The adrenaline that coursed through his body, even feeling electric currents run through him from head to toe from the precise moment he felt the bond, didn't allow him to think too much about how the air hurt his eyes because he already knew exactly where he had to go. He had spent so much time flying without direction, walking the wrong paths and searching in empty places. At that moment, when he had a reason and a direction, Azriel couldn't think of anything else. He didn't want to.

He could only look at the figure falling off the cliff from the moment he raised his head. He could only head blindly towards it. The overwhelming fear that threw him backwards was the fear she felt as under her feet she felt the void, her hands moving forward trying to hold on to something that would allow her to live.

Azriel felt like he was about to die with her.

He met Cassian halfway from afar, who seemed to be about to fly in her direction to catch her when he ran into his friend, but Azriel moved too quickly and with anticipation without losing sight of his mate. The chill that ran through his body could've paralyzed him with fear, but how could he stand by and do nothing when his mate was falling to her undisputed death.

He thought he heard Rhysand's scream. Surely it was so, but in his mind there hovered only the thought that he must reach her, he must get there in time. Her hands were outstretched and Azriel stretched out his hands, hoping that would help him move faster.

Mind blank, Azriel felt like he had just pulled his head out of the water, his chest opening in an unfamiliar thrill as his body felt the warmth of his mate's body crashing against him and his arms wrapped around her in a promise to never let go again. His wings wrapped around her immediately after his arms, impacting a few seconds later against the muddy ground.

He was too close to not catch her. The thought left him breathless.

For a moment, he only heard his and her labored breathing, with the whistling of the wind through the trees and the movement of the water of a stream a few feet away. For a moment, Azriel went completely blank. Whether he was there or dreaming, he didn't know.

His hands clamped tightly around her arms, encircling her entire back, feeling the reality of what had happened sink in on him bit by bit. Fear gripped him once more then, considering that there was a chance he hadn't been there to stop that. To prevent it.

He didn't want to move. Still adrenaline coursed through his body and he was so alert that he could clearly hear the voices of his friends in the distance. Seconds later, when he heard their wings, he finally moved.

Azriel met your eyes and with that look alone he knew you had felt the bond as well.

“I'm sorry,” was all Azriel could think of, his eyes crystallizing, voice breaking. “I'm so sorry.”

You were transfixed. Azriel felt you looking at him with fear and that motivated him to move away from your body, but you gripped his arms tightly to hold him in place.

Azriel felt a great heaviness in his chest as he examined your face and what he saw did not please him at all. Guilt swelled on his shoulders, a great weight that ascended with each passing second and he could hardly imagine all that you had had to go through in that camp. You were right under his nose and he couldn't find you. What kind of a partner was he to let all that happen?

When he heard the footsteps of his friends, his shoulders tensed. But it didn't go unnoticed the way you also became aware of their presence and let go of his arms, rushing to hug yourself as you moved to sit behind Azriel. scared. Still breathing rapidly, Azriel sent a warning look. Cassian and Rhysand stopped a short distance away, noticing the obvious hostility emanating from their friend's body, but Rhysand just stopped for a second.

“Azriel, what the fuck?”

Rhysand was so angry that he seemed to have a little red tinge over his face. Good, he was angry, maybe then Azriel wouldn't feel so bad about breaking his face.

“Rhys,” Cassian frowned, quickly picking up on the tense and hostile atmosphere around him. He grabbed the arm of his high lord, who jerked angrily and turned his gaze back to the Shadowsinger.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you aware of what you just fucking did?”

“Rhysand,” Cassian stopped his high lord, raising his voice and holding his arm tightly this time.

Rhysand turned to look at him with a frown and it seemed that, through his mind, Cassian spoke to him. The next time Rhysand looked back at him, his expression was unclenching, but Azriel stood stone-faced in front of you, his hands clasped at his sides and ready to face anything.

“No way,” was all Rhysand muttered, moving to run his hands through his hair.

Azriel felt one of your hands on his back, his senses splitting in half to try and attend to you as he kept an eye on his brothers on the other side. He moved his head to look at you, your frightened expression trying to hide you from Cassian's curious eyes.

“Is this real?”

Azriel felt his heart crumple. Tears welled behind his eyes and burning hurted the back of his throat. He wanted to say so many things, apologize for a million other things, but in that moment he only responded, moving to squeeze your hand:

“It's real.”

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel x you #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #rhysand #cassian #the cliff

[foxglovebells]

The Winter Writer

Azriel x Reader

Summary: One day Mor brings her best friend to the house of wind for game night with the inner circle. Azriel takes immediate interest, as well as Nesta, Feyre, and Gwyn when they find out she’s the author to their favorite smutty romances.

Warnings: None

Notes: My first fic! This is just the first part and there will me much more to come (😏)

****************************************************

“They’re going to love you” Mor squeals excitedly as she finishes up your makeup. “You have no idea.”

You and Mor had been best friends for centuries. You both knew absolutely everything about each other. Even after all these years you had still never met her family. Though, you weren’t very adamant on pushing it because they made you very nervous. She didn’t want them to scare you away, she had said, when you brought them up once.

You take a deep breath to gather your nerves before replying, “I don’t know Mor, I feel like I’m intruding on your inner circle.” You look up at her from where you’re sitting on the vanity in your apartment. Mor stands and looks down on you as she roles her eyes.

“I don’t think anyone could hate you, you’re like the most likable person I’ve ever met, and trust me, I’ve been alive for a long time.”

You moved to Velaris from the winter court half a century ago. Mor had said she would feel more secure knowing that her best friend was safe and not being caught up in the Amarantha drama. Having parents that had high positions in the Winter court put you too close to danger for Mor’s liking.

While you had never met the inner circle, you had heard almost everything about each one of them. Rhysand was the almighty, powerful high lord who had the biggest soft spot for everyone he loved and cared about. Feyre was kind, selfless, and had a touch for art. Cassian was an Illyrian who was cocky and funny but also gave the best hugs. Amren was a little scary and fierce, but she would always stand up and fight for her friends. Nesta was a tough shell to crack, but she still managed to be the best to talk to when you need advice. Elain was quiet but kind and nurturing. And Azriel, oh Azriel, you had never met him, but Mor always described him as silent, observant, kind, and so many more things. Was it possible to have a crush on someone you’d never met? You based a couple of your book characters on what you had heard of him. Of course, he could be completely different than what you imagined, in that case, you would be severely disappointed.

But even having heard all these things, you’ve yet to meet a single one of them, and because of this you were freaking the fuck out.

“I promise, hun.” She places her hands on either side of your face and looks straight into your eyes, “Plus, I know for a fact that the girls will like you. They have a little book club that has read every single one of your books.” A mischievous expression takes over her face.

“No way, Mor.” Your eyes widen. “You didn’t tell me they’ve read my books.” You shoot up from the vanity chair and pace through the room with your hands twirling a piece of hair to occupy yourself. “Cauldron, Mor, that would have been nice to know.”

Mor throws her head back in laughter, “They haven’t just read them darling, you’re a common talk amongst the library, you’re their favorite.” She walks up and boops you on the nose, you swat her hand away. “Nesta and Feyre are always talking about how sexy they are, I’ve even seen Amren reading one from time to time.”

“Is it too late to back out now?” You sigh in exasperation.

“Even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t let you.”

You glare at her, “I know.”

“Come on, sugar plum, we gotta get going.” Before you can protest she takes your hand and winnows you out of your apartment.

***

“Do we even know if she’s real?” Cassian mutters as he nurses a glass of whiskey. “I mean, Mor said she’s lived here for nearly 50 years—and been friends with her for longer—but we’ve never met her.”

“Probably because she didn’t want your horny ass to hit on her.” Azriel buts in as Rhys lets out a laugh in agreement.

“Your not much better, brother.” Cassian shoots him an amused glare but it’s ignored as Az takes a sip from his glass.

“I can’t say I’m not curious, though.” Rhys starts, “Mor said she was trustworthy enough to know about Velaris, and that she knew her for centuries before she moved here.”

“And yet we’ve never met her and when ever she comes up Mor shuts the subject down.” Cassian replies.

It did make Azriel wonder, he could send his shadows to get information on her, but she’s coming tonight so he might as well just wait and ask her—like a normal person.

All at once the 3 brothers perked up as soon and the felt someone winnow into the house.

“Guess it’s time to finally meet the mystery girl.” Rhys says before sauntering off and going to the main living area where the girls were already there drinking wine and gossiping about the latest book by their favorite author—Y/n Y/l/n.

***

When they enter the room Feyre, Nesta, Elain, Gwyn, and Emerie are all sitting in front of the fire, drinking wine and giggling quietly.

“Where’s Nyx, darling?” Was the first thing Rhys asks as he makes his way to Feyre’s side and places a loving kiss on her cheek.

Azriel always envied their mating bond, Cassian’s too. He had waited so long to feel the love of a mate, but he would wait as long as it took. He often tried to occupy his heart with harmless relationships to fill the void that hopefully would one day be filled with his mate. But even after centuries of waiting he had yet to even suspect someone. It made him insecure sometimes, how could anyone love someone as scared and broken as him? So to refrain from thinking these thoughts he buried himself into other activities, spying, reading, training. Anything that could take his mind off of the restless thoughts that invaded his brain.

“He ran off to greet Mor.” She replied while leaning into his kiss.

All the males looked slightly of put as they recalled the new unknown guest around around Nyx. Rhys stood straight and was about to go seek them out when they heard the sound of footsteps making their way towards them from the hall.

They all stood and watched as Mor entered the room followed by someone who was still out of view behind Mor.

Mor moved to the side and revealed the most beautiful female Azriel had even seen in his life. You were wearing a silky slip style dress in a deep midnight blue, it contrasted beautifully to the long white waves cascading down to your waist. Winter court, Azriel thought. What caught his attention the most was the small Illyrian at your side with his hand in yours.

“Daddy I found a girl!” Nyx shouts as he tries to drag you towards his father.

You have a small nervous smile on your face and you allow yourself to be dragged towards Rhysand.

“Nyx!” Feyre shoots up from her seat on the chaise and rushes over to snatch up Nyx, releasing your hand in the process. “I’m so sorry.” She says turning to you.

Mor makes her way back up to your side and you look over to her for reassurance. She nods at you and you look back to Feyre with a sweet smile. “That’s all right, nothing to be sorry about” you reply. “I’m Y/n, you must be Feyre.” Rhysand takes Nyx out of his mates arms and you hold out your hand to shake hers. She shakes her head at your hand and instead wraps her arms around you in a hug. You freeze slightly in surprise but quickly relax and return the hug.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you, Y/n. Mor is awfully protective.” Feyre sends a playful glare to your best friend and she returns it with a sheepish smile. You simply laugh at the exchange.

Mor takes your arm and walks you to the seating area and you take a seat on an armchair close to the fire.

“Y/n,” Mor starts, “This is Nesta, Elain, Gwyn, Emerie and you’ve already met Feyre.” She takes her time pointing to each female around the room. Gwyn and Nesta are sat beside each other on a two seater lounge while Elain sits on the arm chair across from you. Mor walks over to Emerie and lays a hand on her shoulder. You try to hide your smirk behind your hand as you glance between the two of them. The look she gives you is a mix between shut the fuck up and she’s hot isn’t she. It became clear to you that her family doesn’t know about her sexually orientation, that became more clear when you caught the confusion in the eyes of a couple of the others.

“Anyway,” she claps her hands together and walks back to where Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel were standing. “This is Rhysand—“

“Call me Rhys, please, any friend of Mor’s is a friends of mine.” You smile at him before Mor continues.

“Then my most favorite nephew, Nyx, whom you’ve already met.” She walks up and pinched the little boys cheeks, who squirms in his dads arms, resulting in him putting Nyx down. Nyx does something no one expects—especially not you—when he runs up to you, climbs onto your chair, and settles into your lap as if nothing was wrong in the world. Every one stares in shock while you just let it has happen, chuckling slightly.

Azriel watches you along with everyone else, but the thought churning in his mind aren’t ones that revolve around Nyx, no, the only thing he can think about is how, beautiful and sweet you are, he might not be able to forgive Mor for keeping you from him. Of course, not literally, but he had never felt to drawn to someone, especially not someone he had never met in his life.

“Sorry.” You say with a small laugh. “Is he normally this friendly?” You look up to see Feyre snickering and Rhys shaking his head in amusement. Mor just looks as if she’s having a proud mother moment.

“Not usually, but he doesn’t meet new people often.” Rhys supplies. “But if he’s bothering you feel free to tell us, we won’t be offended.”

“Oh no, he’s perfect.” You look to the little boy in your lap who’s the split image of his father. His big violet eyes are looking up at you as you smile down at him.

You remember that you hadn’t been introduced to everyone yet. “And I’m guessing these two are Cassian and Azriel.” You gesture to each of them.

Cassian beamed at you, “The one and only, nice to meet you Y/n.”

“You too, Cassian.”

Azriel kept silent but he gave you a forced tight lipped smile, that made your stomach drop a little. He didn’t like you, you concluded.

You looked over to Mor who noticed the interaction and noticed that slightly devastated look on your face. She was quick to change the subject.

“Nice going, asshole.” Cassian says to Azriel out of your ear shot, “She thinks you hate her.”

“What?” Azriel heart sinks, “Why would she think that?” He could never hate you, he knew it the minute he saw you. He wanted to talk to you but he didn’t know what to say.

“You gave her the same obviously fake smile that you give every female that any of us try to set you up with.” Cassian sends him a looks that screams could you be any more oblivious, “Didn’t you see her smile drop slightly and her look to Mor for reassurance?”

No, he did not, and now he feels like a dick. “I didn’t mean too.” He replies solemnly.

“Y/n’s from the winter court. We became friends the first time a visited when I was a child.” Mor smiled at you cheekily before continuing, “I wanted her to move here a few decades ago—“

“—because you’re like an overprotective mother hen.” You cut her off with a laugh but she shushes you playfully.

“No,” she asserts firmly with a glare in your direction, “Well, yes I guess a little.” The group around you laughs.

“If she’s lived here for decades why have we never met her?” Cassian asks and Mor roles her eyes at the questions.

“Did you not hear Y/n, Cass, protective mother hen.” She gestures to herself while you along with everyone else smiles at the interaction. “She needed protecting from the like of you, all of you and your corrupt sense of humor. Now, drinks.”

“Ugh, Yes please” and other mutters of agreement are heard from all around. Rhysand snaps his fingers and wine appears atop the coffee table at the center of the seating.

Elain pours you a glass and hands it to you, you smile gratefully. Nyx has since fallen asleep on your lap, his face tucked into your neck and you run your hand over his head while paying attention to conversation around you.

“So Y/n, you want to tell everyone what you do for a living?” Mor says, bringing everyone’s attention to you once more, though, you couldn’t help but notice that one particular person attention had been on you the whole time.

You glare at Mor, a real glare this time, no playfulness in your stare. “Morrigan, what did we talk about.” You say to her while everyone listens with interest. She doesn’t reply, but instead hold your stare with a challenging look. Eventually giving up you cave. “I’m an author.”

“I expected something completely different from the way you two were looking at each other.” Nesta laughs as she finished her glass of wine.

“Me too.” Pipes Gwyn who was sitting on the lounge where Feyre had once been. Feyre was now curled up in the lap of the high lord. “Are you published.”

“Um—” you hesitate.

“Yes, she is.” Mor states simply once she’s decided that you’re taking far to long to answer such an easy question.

“Do you think we’d know any?” Gwyn asks curiously. “The girls and I are in a book club, I’m sure we’ve had to at least heard of it.”

“Oh I write under pseudonym, you probably haven’t heard of me.” You attempt to laugh it off, but Nesta and Gwyn seem keen on getting the answer out of you.

“Try us.” Nesta pushes.

“Sellyn Drake.” You say quietly with a slight embarrassed chuckle. Please tell me they haven’t read my books, please, please, ple—

“Fucking shit!” Nesta shoots up, her refilled glass of wine spilling over the lip of the glass. Every female in the room seems to sit up, even Feyre from where she was comfortably tucked into Rhysand.

“You’re kidding, right?” Gwyn shrieks with an excited smile on her face.

“You’ve heard of me?” You say sheepishly.

“Heard of you!” Nesta snaps her fingers and every single book that you’ve ever published appears directly in front of you. You reach for a book, trying not to jostle the sleeping Illyrian in your arms. Opening the book you’re surprised to see annotations on every page, highlighted words and thoughts fill each blank space.

“Um wow, I didn’t expect this.” You laugh as you flip through the pages coming across and especially spicy scene before slamming the book shut and placing it back on the pile.

“Would it be weird if I asked you to sign them?”

“Not at all, how about we meet for coffee sometime, I can even bring the manuscript for my next book, I’ve been looking for some insight on it.” You suggest, a little bit nervous that she might turn you down.

“Holy shit, of course!” She looks over to Feyre, Gwyn, and Emerie. “You know what? What do you think about coming to our next book club meeting?”

You return her excitement at that, “That sounds perfect.”

Nesta excitedly goes to Cassian and plops in his lap. His arms wrap around her waist and kisses her neck.

“You’re the smutty romance author, eh.” Cassian guesses in response to his mates excitement.

Your face burns red and you attempt to hide it by looking away. Azriel watched the exchange with a barely there smirk on his face. Ah maybe he could use that as a conversation starter, he thought. He would only have to get you alone first. He observed that you weren’t to comfortable talking about your occupation in a large group like this with new people. Though, he didn’t understand why an extremely successful author wouldn’t want to flaunt her talents.

“Y/n?” Starts Rhys. “Are you comfortable talking about your family?” He didn’t want to pry, but he was curious, something about you was just so familiar.

“Oh, of course.” You loved your family dearly and enjoyed any excuse to talk about them, especially your sister. “My sister is the lady of the winter court.”

“Viviane?” Feyre asks and you nod in response.

“Yes, we’re fraternal twins.” You smile as you think about your twin sister who was such a talented warrior.

“She’s amazing, and so is my niece, Seely, who was born 3 years ago, about the same age as Nyx actually.” You gesture to the sleeping form wrapped in your arms.

“I hadn’t realized you had such useful connections—” Rhys starts.

“—No.” Mor cuts him off before he can continue. “You are not using my best friend for a winter court alliance. You want an alliance, figure out how to get it without using her as pawn.”

Rhys looked apologetic, “She’s right, I apologize Y/n.”

“No harm done, if it’s any reassurance Kallias and Vivian are rather fond of your inner circle. I’m sure if you ever did want an alliance you wouldn’t have trouble achieving it, with or without my assistance.” You reply, you truly didn’t mind, you actually found it quite comforting that he was willing to talk politics with you, even if it was an odd situation to do so.

A new voice speaks up, surprising everyone in the room. “So you can fight?” Azriel kicks off from his place in the shadows against the wall, finally stepping into the light of the fire and taking the empty seat to your left.

“What do you mean?” You ask him to specify.

“We’ll Viviane is a highly trained warrior, and I’ve seen how well trained the winter court army is. I was wondering if you were trained similarly.”

“Yes, Viviane and I were trained by our father from the moment we could walk.” You smile in remembrance, your father was such a good teacher and was kind and gave you advice on how to improve rather than yelling. Many of your favorite memories were training beside him and your sister. “It’s been several years though, I probably a bit rusty.”

“I could always help.” He rushes out, as if he didn’t really mean to say that. He clears his throat. “I mean, if you ever wanted to train again I would be happy to be your partner.” Azriel cursed himself for not controlling his words, he hoped you wouldn’t turn him down.

“I would love that Azriel, thank you.” You smile widely at him and you look back to the group.

Feyre stands up and begins to make her way towards you. “As much fun as this has been I really need to get Nyx into his bed.”

“Of course, do you want to take him or I would be happy to walk up with you so he doesn’t wake.” You offer, cradling Nyx against your chest in preparation for her answer.

“That would be amazing, Y/n.” She smiles graciously at you. You stand from the comfy armchair and follow Feyre out of the room and through a series of hallways. She comes to a bedroom and you both go in and put Nyx to bed. “I’ve never seen him act so attached to someone new before. He really likes you.”

“I’m glad, I really like him too.” You both make your way back to the sitting room as you yawn.

“I’ve had so much fun, but I really should get going before I become too tired to winnow home.” You stay standing up instead of sitting back down. You were sure that if you sat back down you would surely fall asleep.

“Stay the night, please.” Rhys offers, “you could join us tomorrow for breakfast and training.”

“And a book club meeting, the girls and I have one in the library tomorrow.” Nesta adds while each of the girls agrees.

“I don’t know,” you start to reply “I don’t want to intrude—”

“Y/n! How many times do I have to repeat myself before you process it in you thick skull.” Mor throws her hand up, exasperated. “You. Are. Not. Intruding.”

You fidget with a strand of your snowy white hair before replying. “Just because you feel that way doesn’t mean the others do. You’re biased Mor.”

“Oh Mother.” She pinches the bridge of her nose as if you are a insulant child.

“If you fear that you are intruding I can guarantee that you are not.” Feyre tells you kindly, a much kinder approach than Mor’s.

You’re still hesitant, but you make up your mind. “Alright, I guess I’ll stay.”

Everyone looks content with your response. But it’s Nesta who’s the first to talk. “Perfect. Training starts at sunrise.”

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel x you #mor #Rhysand #Feyre #Nyx #Acotar #night court #winter court #author #sellyn drake #books #foxglovebells

[artists-ally]

Hi! I love your writing and I just wanted to ask if you could make a fic about Azriel and a chronically ill reader? I have Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, and it can be really difficult sometimes. I’m currently in a flare-up and I would love to see what Azriel would be like if he had a partner with a chronic illness 🩵 please and thank you!

{The Fixer} Azriel x Reader

Hi my love!!! While I myself do not know what it's like to live with a chronic illness, my mom has chronic migraines and I was always the one taking care of her. I hope you enjoy and are taking as best care of yourself as you can through this flare-up my love <3 Title and story inspired by this song.

Word Count: 2,193

Warnings: struggles of chronic illness, headaches, vomiting, fluff

Tagging: @cyrygher @thelov3lybookworm @librafairy @blessthepizzaman @needylilgal022 @bubybubsters @harrystylesfan2686 @justdreamstars

Summary: Azriel notices. Even when you try to hide it from him. There is nothing he hates more than seeing you in pain, and it's his mission to make you feel as comfortable as possible.

~~~~~~~~~~

Whether it was the dots spreading across my vision or the ache set deep in every bone in my body, I knew I was off. Short of the normal dizziness and weakness I had, I felt like shit.

I rolled over in bed to find Az gone, and I sighed. Getting to the bathroom was going to be tough. Half an hour went by before I could fully open my eyes and not see the world spinning before. 

The snow was blinding across Velaris, burning my eyes and making me jerk my neck too hard in the opposite direction. Much like my hips and ankles, the joints in my neck screamed for relief. Just a few steps away was the bathroom. If I could get there, to the cabinet above the sink I could get my-

My sweater pocket caught the post on the bed and I got yanked to the floor. Landing shoulders first, pins and needles raced up and down my left arm. Fingers numb. With more than a groan, I rolled off of it and found a new ache in… well, everywhere. 

It took a long time to roll on my hands and knees, but I did it, and now I was on the cold tile. It did wonders for the radiating heat in my freshly injured palms, but it chilled it to the marrow of my bones. 

As much as I wanted to, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stand. The pounding of my head and the rolling of my stomach was enough to force me to sit against the wall opposite the toilet. 

I pulled my head back and tried to breathe. 

Those life changing blue pills that Madja gave me would be useless now. They could only prevent a flare-up if caught at the earliest signs. I’ve been able to catch the past few, but I wasn’t expecting this one. 

Azriel was right when he told me to take it easy during training yesterday. All I wanted to do was prove to him that I could keep up. I knew I couldn't, and so did he, but that wasn’t the point. He shouldn’t just assume I can’t because I’m sick. 

Yet here I am, paying for it on the bathroom floor. 

I could feel the circulatory pattern of my pulse. A never ending cycle of pain. Starting in my head, down my neck and in my teeth. To my shoulder, numbness down my arm and tingling in my finger. The surge of agony in my hip, through my leg and in my knee. Gods my ankle, what did I do to my ankle?

A quick check under my sock and I could see the culprit. A huge bruise accompanied by an abundance of swelling. I must’ve kicked the post in the night again. Or it could’ve been from sparring, or our sprint up the stairs.

I gave up trying to keep tabs on all my possible reasons and focused on the fact that I was all alone in the House of Wind. Azriel, Cassian, and Nesta were all away in Illyria for the day to train a group of new recruits. Nuala and Cerridwen were here, but I always feel weird asking them for help. 

I can make it to the evening. I’ll get up and I’ll take that pill, even if it will only decrease the length not the strength of this flare-up. Anything. I’ll do anything to get it over quicker so I’ll be back to normal. 

On the count of three, I’ll get up. I’ll push with the strength I’ve built up from training with Az. I’ll push myself up and grab the pill and go back to bed. 

One.

Two.

Three.

My arms do nothing but scream in pain, and my legs lose feeling. I go nowhere but back on my ass. I try again, after another count of three. Nothing. Holding my breath while doing it only makes the dizziness worse. And the nausea. 

I drag myself over to the toilet and empty whatever is left in my stomach. It’s not much, and it burns on the way up. Tears fill my eyes and mucus fills my nose and throat. I know when pain and headaches get so bad you vomit, the episode is going to be particularly brutal. 

My skin is damp and I start to shake. Water. I need water. 

I flush and manage to make it on the toilet. I turn on the sink with some blind movement and I’m greeted with the lovely sound of water. I can’t lift my left arm any more and I think it might be out of socket. I can’t tell. Doesn’t matter. I scoop some water into my mouth, but most of it makes it down my shirt instead. 

I let it run and run and run, letting the cool liquid calm my swimming head. 

At some point I laid my head down and didn’t pick it back up. I stayed in this awful state of micro sleep, sometimes drifting off, sometimes thinking I’m dreaming but I’m just letting my mind wander. The bright morning sun turned into the dull brightness of the afternoon. I think. 

My heart beat loudly in my ears. Then it would stop, and then it would start again. My pulse was taunting me. It must be. It sounded like Azriel’s wings which only made me miss him more. The memory of his scent blasted through me and the tears started. 

I want him so bad. I need him.

“Shhh, it’s okay, just breathe, Yn.”

My eyes snapped open, and through a blurry mess of tears, Azriel kneeled in front of me. “W-What are you doing here?”

“The second you woke up I could feel your pain,” his thumb slid across my cheek. “I turned around when I realized why. You need help.”

I shook my head, or tried to. It just sorta rolled back and forth. 

“Squeeze my fingers, Yn.” Azriel placed two of his digits in my palms and I squeezed as hard as I could. Not even the tips of his fingers turned red from the pressure. “Are you going to let me help you or are you going to be difficult?”

“I don't want to be difficult. I’m in so much pain.”

“I know, my shadow. I know.”

As gently as he could, he sat me up and carried me to the bed. He took off his armor somewhere along the way, the bony ridges of the scales not digging into me like they normally do. I was eternally grateful for the small detail he remembered. 

Even our mattress hurt just as much as the floor. 

“I need to take a look at you. Where are you hurting the most? Did you fall?”

I nodded deliriously, “My ankle’s a mess. And so is my shoulder. M’arms numb.”

As carefully as he could, he propped me against him and peaked around. I didn’t hear him make any gasps, but I could feel that pull on the bond that meant he didn’t like what he saw.

“How bad?”

“Bad enough for me to call Madja. She’s on her way. I told you to take it easy-”

“Don’t.”

Azriel completely disregarded whatever he was going to say next. “I’m sorry.”

“Just get me the pill, please,” I faulty gestured to the bathroom. He didn’t even move, but then a pill and a cup of water was pressed into my lips. Those shadows of his are so helpful. 

“I didn’t mean anything by what I said. I just don’t like seeing you in pain. It makes me… it makes me wild.”

“I appreciate it, I do Az, but you can’t protect me from everything. And I don’t want you to. There's a reason why I wanted to train with you in the first place.”

“I know, but there's no need to exert yourself to this just to prove a point. I know how tough you are, Yn. You are the strongest, most resilient soul I’ve ever met. But making yourself like this in spite of me is something I never want you doing.”

I smiled, cheeks heating up as I leaned against his chest. His body radiated heat like a roaring fire, and I soaked up every morsel of it. 

With enough pillows and heat packs, I was propped up against the headboard. Soon after, Madja and Nuala came in. I could smell the fresh bread and juice from across the room and my stomach growled. 

“It’s cheese bread with a nice tomato and herb soup. Azriel requested the sweet tea just for you.”

I smiled up at him, my eyes suddenly heavy with love and adoration for my Shadowsinger. 

I ate as Madja poked and prodded. Az held my hand and kissed the tears away when she had to reset my shoulder. By this point, my body was in so much pain that I couldn’t think of anything else. The healer was kind enough to give a sedative and an injection that did something. 

“She’ll be asleep soon,” Madja said across the room to Azriel. “When she wakes, send for me again and I will bring one that doesn’t make her drowsy. Do not let her out of that bed unless she is in your arms, Shadowsinger.”

“Thank you, Madja.” And the door shut. Once again, the bed dipped and he trailed a gentle hand up my legs. “Just go to sleep, my shadow.”

“I hope you know that shot will do nothing, Az.”

“I thought they were working?” He asked, puzzled. 

I shook my head, “I thought so too, but they’re not. There isn't anything you can do to ease the pain, Az. No amount of pills or injections or stimulation therapy will do the trick. I just have to wait it out.”

“So you rest until it passes,” Az climbed in beside me. “I will be here when you wake up.”

“I don’t want to sleep,” I hissed, frustrated tears spilling down my face. “I want to train and go to dinner and drink red wine and dance like the rest of you.”

I couldn't bear to look at him. Couldn’t bear to see the sadness in his eyes. After a long silent moment, he took a deep breath. 

“It’s okay if you need rest. You’re not expected to work or thrive in the condition you’re in. I could tell last night you weren’t feeling good.”

That made me perk up. “How?”

“You get this hazy, far away look. That's how I know you’re in pain.” Azriel muttered, snuggling in close so I could latch on for warmth. “Let me take care of you. Don’t focus on anything other than healing and my warmth. I will be here when you wake up.”

I didn’t care to read into how much he read into me. My heart blazed with thoughts, all of him and those offhanded looks and questions he always asks. He is such an observer.

“I’m the spy for the Night Court, my shadow. Of course I’m observant. I notice everything about you. What makes you smile, what doesn’t. The foods and drinks that give you headaches and swelling. When your flare-ups are coming and when they’re finally withdrawing. I make it my mission to make sure you are as safe and comfortable as possible. I am sorry I wasn't there to help you this morning, love.”

“I felt fine last night, no need to say sorry.” I kissed his cheek, then he kissed my lips. “Thank you for turning around.”

“Cassian thought I had been shot with an arrow with how hard I dove down to the ground to turn around. I felt this rush of pain from you and I thought for a second it was my own. But don’t feel bad. I want to be here anyway. You’re much better than any of those awful camps.”

“I’m a lot better,” I smiled, nuzzling into his chest.

The glint in his voice was enough to make me swoon, “Yes, my shadow. Everything about you is better than those camps.”

-------

Through the rest of the day, Az laid with me, running hands through my hair, massaging my legs when they cramped up. He got me water, food and snacks. Kept the entertainment up when I was in too much pain to nap. All through the night, Azriel held me steady so I wouldn’t accidentally roll around. 

Madja came in the morning with more useless injections, Nuala with a stack of chocolate chip pancakes and fresh bacon. 

I made Az eat some because I didn’t see him steal a crumb earlier. 

Later, he took me into the bath where he scrubbed my scalp, massaging my temples. I tried to do the same for his back and wings, but he refused to let me move. Just sat me in his lap, chest pressed against my back and let us soak for hours. 

As we got out, he sat me on the bed while he gathered clothes for us. Per my request, he kept his shirt off and just through on a set of lounging sweats.

One foot at a time, he put me in the comfiest pair of pants I had. The fleece lined inside keeping out the cold. He put thick socks on my feet and found something to wrap around my top half so I didn't have to move my arm.

We laid back down, me tucked in his arms. I absently stroked the back of his scarred hand.

I was calm. The ache is still present, but ignorable with a few of his stories. I drifted to sleep, in the safest place in Prythian.

"Thank you, Az," I murmured, sleep evident now

He kissed me softly, "Anything for you, my shadow."

~~~~~~

#acotar #azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Hi I absolutely love your writing! I devoured all you fics in record time. I've seen a lot of things about a shy & insecure reader x Cassian but I was wondering if you could do one with Azriel instead? Az is my favourite batboy and I'm also quite shy and insecure so I wouldn't mind reading one. Although I know you probably get a lot of requests with how great your writing is so its ok if you don't like the request I'm content just reading your amazing fics.

Meant to be together.

Azriel x f!Reader.

Masterlist.

Summary; Reader believes that Azriel deserves better than her.

Warnings; angst, insecurities, mentions of sex.

Hello! Thank you so much! You didn't specify which of Cassian's fics you like so I let my imagination take charge of the whole fic. I hope this is what you had in mind, if not feel free to request something else. I really hope you enjoy this like I did!

You changed your mind yet again about the dress you tried on and threw it on the pile of the rest of them. You were getting ready for dinner at the house of wind and since it is the third time you will hang out with the inner circle your nerves are going crazy. You met Azriel a few months back when he literally fell out of the sky and landed on his back in your garden.  He never told you how it happened. After helping him into your house and cleaning his wounds he fell asleep and the next morning he woke up with you next to him wide awake and staring at him. You had stayed the whole night by his side monitoring his breathing and checking for any bleeding. He observed your worried pale face with black circles beneath your red eyes and the bond snapped. You blushed when he told you that you are his mate and for the first few dates you avoided his gaze like your life depended on it. Azriel didn’t really have a problem with that, he is shy and quiet too so your whole behavior helped him cope. And now after some months of building trust and love he decided to introduce you to his family and make you a part of it.

You huffed and threw yet another dress on the pile when the familiar beating sound of wings filled your small apartment, Azriel came in through the window and stood next to the pile of clothes staring at them. He looked so out of place in your small room, his body and those beautiful membranous wings taking up most of the space.

“Angel, you look perfect in everything just pick one dress” he sighed and stared at your bare back.

“No I don’t…I just need a few more minutes to find the right dress. I’m sorry” you mumbled and searched the closet.

He knew that if you didn’t find a dress that made you feel good, you’d probably hide behind him for the whole night so he didn’t pressure you and hummed an okay before laying down on your bed.

You tried one of the dresses that used to belong to your mother when she was about your age and finally you felt pretty, a grin appearing on your face as you twirled around.

“What do you think?” You asked Azriel who was gaping at you.

“I think that you should join me here and skip dinner” he licked his bottom lip and opened his arms in a silent invitation. You blushed and stared at the floor.

“That’s not polite what will your family think about me…” your voice was soft.

Azriel smiled at that and got up, he walked up to you and wrapped his arms around your waist pressing you against him.

“You���re so cute” he cooed and kissed your nose making you blush harder and hide your face in his chest.

“Okay let’s go” he chuckled and picked you up.

The flight was silent, and you enjoyed the view of the city, it soothed your nerves. You landed on the balcony of the house of wind with a thud and entered the dining room. Everyone you knew was there and two females you didn’t recognize.

“Oh great you’re here” Feyre exclaimed “y/n these are my sisters, Nesta and Elain”

Both females were stunning, and you stared in awe as they smiled.

“Hello, nice to meet you” you smiled back.

“You are Azriel’s mate, right?” Nesta asked and glared at Elain.

“Yes” you replied and glanced at your mate who was watching his brothers bickering about something.

The females didn’t say anything else, so you took a seat and stared at your napkin not sure what to do. Azriel sat next to you and soon everyone was eating.

You glanced around and noticed the longing looks Elain was sending to your mate who didn’t have a clue since he was way too lost in his food. You moved your eyes on the table again and didn’t dare to look at her again. Such a beautiful female, her and Azriel would make a great couple if only you weren’t in their way. Your heart ached at the thought, and you lost your appetite. Azriel noticed that you were playing with your food and nudged your foot with his own. You pretended you didn’t notice and kept staring at your plate.

“Are you okay?” He whispered in your ear.

You shook your head and leaned closer to him.

“I want to go home now…” you whispered back. He only nodded and excused the two of you saying that you weren’t feeling well before picking you up and flying you home.

You walked inside and quickly turned around blocking Azriel from entering. He furrowed his eyebrows and took a step back.

“I’m sorry to do this now but I don’t think this is going to work”. You said softly.

“What?” He exclaimed “why?”

“I’m sorry” you repeated and tried to shut the door, but he was faster than you and his scarred hands pushed the door open again.

“No. You don’t get to do this, we will talk this through” he growled and walked inside shutting the door behind him.

“There is nothing to talk about Az… we are from completely different worlds. I’m a loner while you have so many friends and family”. You whispered.

“You can be a part of it too, and if you don’t want to then I will stay with you. I will spend less time with them.” He said with a pleading look.

“I think that Elain likes you, she is such a beautiful female, and she fits into your family really well. She will make you happy.” You confessed and ignored the ache in your heart.

“What are you talking about? Elain has a mate and even if she didn’t, I wouldn’t care. I only want you. You are the most beautiful and amazing female I’ve ever met. Your calm and quiet personality keeps me grounded, you make me feel safe and comfortable and I would rather spend my whole life locked in this apartment with you than anywhere else without you.” His voice broke at the end, and he stared at you with a pained expression.

“Are you sure? I just want the best for you.” You whispered.

“You are the best for me, I don’t even know what I did to deserve you. You are the light in my darkness.” He wrapped his arms around you pressing you against him as he left a soft kiss on your head.

“You give me a reason to live” you confessed and pressed your cheek on his chest. You could hear his heart beating faster at your words and his scarred hands rubbed your back.

That night he made love to you again and again worshiping your body and whispering sweet promises. That night he proved to you that you are meant to be together.

Requests are open but delayed!

#acotar #acotar series #azriel #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel angst #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction #rhysand #feyre archeron #nesta acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf #nesta archeron #acowar #acosf #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #night court #feyre cursebreaker #nesta #the night court #velaris #city of starlight

[witchybitchy222]

Azriel x Reader | Satisfaction

You have a date and Azriel wishes it’d been with him. Basically.

Hey y’all! It’s been a long while and I apologize for not only that, but also the quality of this fic… I know it isn’t great, and full disclosure i am not sober while writing this and I did not edit or re read this. If I make a part two I promise it’ll be better LMAO

Before his boots had even touched down on the balcony at the House of Wind, Azriel had been dreaming of his bed. He’d worked nearly 24 hours straight and wanted nothing more than to drift off into oblivion for at least a day.

He’d thrown himself into any and all tasks he could find, trying in vain to keep his thoughts from wandering to you.

Azriel had been yearning for you for well over a century now, and your introverted and private personality meant although he’d known you’d been with other people during the 150 years you’d known each other, he never had to hear about it and therefore never had to go through the pain of thinking about it.

Now, however, you’d decided to start seriously dating and he felt like he was going insane.

You’d been on a few dates recently with the same male, always coming home with a smile, always aughing and blushing with the other females at training as they teased you about him. It was devastating.

Yesterday, you’d all been in the sitting room after dinner, drinking Rhys’s wine and laughing at whatever dumb thing Cassian had done that day, when Mor brought up him.

Azriel had never hated a name like he now hated the name Ian. Ian. The male who had all of your attention as of late.

He silently cursed Mor and her big ass mouth for mentioning your upcoming date. You’d been sitting next to him at the time and he was shamelessly basking in the light of your undivided attention.

“You know,” the blonde had said, “you’ve been seeing each other for three weeks, I think it’s about time you fucked.”

You’d gone beet red at the mention, slowly turning toward Mor with a look that was nothing short of mortified.

“Oh come on,” she’d laughed, looking from your distressed face to Nesta and Cassian barely containing their amusement, “you can’t act like you weren’t thinking it already”

“Maybe! But I wasn’t about to announce it to the whole room!” You’d hissed in her direction as Nesta and Cassian let out their laughter.

Azriel had gone completely still at your admission, his ears ringing and mind swirling with the thought of you touching and being touched by another male. His sudden possessiveness was down right shameful. You’d never seen him as anything but a friend, and he’d be out of his mind to risk that friendship. He had no claim to you and no reason to feel so sick at the thought of you and someone else.

That’s why, as soon as the opportunity presented itself, Azriel had done what he’d always done when his feelings got out of control. He’d isolated himself and focused on what he did best, his work.

Azriel was walking down the hallway to his room when he heard the sounds of laughter coming from the kitchen, knowing immediately that as hard as he’d tried to avoid hearing about your date with Ian, he’d walked right into your post-date debrief with Mor.

“… it can’t have been that bad.” The blonde’s feathery voice floated out, and Azriel stopped dead in his tracks.

He knew better than to eavesdrop on his friends. There was a reason he kept his shadows reigned in at home, he’d heard way too much coming from Cassian and Nesta’s room to ever want to know everything that was going on in that house.

But this time, he just couldn’t help himself.

“It was… boring.”

“Ouch!” Mor cried “that’s probably the worst thing you can say about sex.”

Azriel tensed, now smelling the obvious scent of sex and wine in the air. This was a literal nightmare.

“It wasn’t really sex, just… hand… stuff”

He could practically see your blush as your voice trailed off in embarrassment.

“Still, you shouldn’t be bored when someone is touching you.”

“Well I was. And now I’m all… frazzled. And unsatisfied.”

“ you mean horny”

Azriel could imagine you rolling your eyes at that, cheeks still delightfully pink.

“Fine, Mor. I’m horny.”

Hearing those words come out of your mouth got Azriel more worked up than he’d ever admit, and he decided it was time to stop lingering in the hall and get the rest he needed before he did something foolish.

He readied himself for bed methodically, willing himself not to think any more about you and your current aroused state.

Despite the bone-deep exhaustion he was feeling, sleep wouldn’t come. Azriel lay staring at the ceiling for nearly an hour before giving in and sliding his hand under the covers and palming his already throbbing cock.

He closed his eyes and let his mind wander where it always did, to you. He thought of how that perfect pink blush would look on your face as he kissed and licked his way down your body, squeezing and nipping your skin as he worked his way to your core, he thought of all the ways he would make sure you were more than satisfied. He thought of how your lips would feel wrapped around his cock, sucking and licking as you stared up him through your lashes, and it wasn’t long before Azriel was coming undone.

He lay in bed after, and didn’t try to curb his thoughts, allowing himself to fall asleep thinking of you wrapped in his arms.

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

[thesistersarcheron]

Pairing: Elriel Rating: E Word Count: ~4k Tags: PWP, Smut, Outdoor Sex, Feral Behavior, Dominant Azriel, Slight Degradation Kink, Forbidden Love & Secret Relationships, Established Relationship, Post-ACOSF, princess (derogatory), princess (affectionate) Summary: After Rhys reiterates his orders from that wretched Solstice night months later, Azriel snaps, and Elain quite happily earns herself a new nickname.

The long-awaited sequel to Breathless!

Read this fic on AO3 or check out a snippet under the cut.

The heat of high summer threatened to roast Azriel alive as he flew over Velaris. His shadows shrouded him from the worst of it, cool and mistlike where they lay against his skin, but even they could not fully shield his exposed wings from the sun’s furious glare.

Keep your hands off of my fucking princess.

Rhysand’s voice still echoed in his mind, the memory a fresh hell that was certain to haunt Azriel during his sleepless nights.

If you can’t get your mind out from between her legs, then you could at least pretend to have a shred of respect for her position.

Clenching his jaw against the fury gathering in his throat, Azriel tucked his wings, angling for the ground. Nosediving through the air was reckless, thoughtless—a move that would have gotten him whipped as a novice if any war camp commander had seen—but he savored the wind that stung his eyes and tore at his hair.

This rush of adrenaline felt better than the vicious, lung-shredding unworthiness clawing at his insides. That feeling had sunk its talons into him in his cell beneath his sire’s keep and held on all his life, through wars won and promotions earned and centuries of pining for a female who never wanted him back. 

And just when he thought he might have shaken it…

Now that Nesta has publicly accepted her bond with Cassian, Elain is the closest thing the Night Court has to a princess. And I won’t let you ruin the opportunity in front of us with your cock.

It was back.

In an instant, Az was just a nameless bastard again, clothed in rags and kept secret behind a door locked from the outside. A small, weak boy who had only scarred, ravaged hands and shadows that drove him near to madness to his name. 

He burned to think of the way Rhys’s cold eyes had pinned him to his seat in his heavily warded study in the House of Wind—black, empty pits of night void of any trace of stars. Though Azriel put everything he had into reinforcing the walls of ice around his mind, a ravenous, beastly feeling had stirred at the sight of the disdain in his brother’s expression.

Hell, he’d almost had to rustle his wings just to remind himself that they were no longer two emaciated, useless things hanging limply off his back for well over five centuries.

He had held off though—barely. If only so Rhys didn’t witness that moment of insecurity.

You know better than anyone how many eyes are on her. I won’t have her dragged through the scandal sheets every week like Cresseida and the Vanserra brothers. I expect you can respect that, at the very least?

Azriel could. The gossipmongers of Prythian had better spies than most governments. He could only imagine the malicious horse shit they would sell on every newsstand and street corner if they got the faintest hint of a rumor about the High Lady of Night’s quiet, reclusive sister.

The ground rushed toward him, but he waited until his shadows cried out in fright to snap open his wings. Every muscle and tendon in his back screamed with agony as he caught the wind, pulling out of his dive with a low groan.

While you were gone, Elain expressed a desire to take a more active role in the politics of this court. She cannot do that if she is embroiled in a fucking feud between my spymaster and the gods-damned Autumn Court.

Azriel, stupid with rage, had opened his mouth then. Can’t she? Feyre’s reputation hardly suffered after being caught between two High L—

Even now, with the wind roaring in his ears and his own wingbeats defeaning him, Azriel could hear the ear-splitting CRACK! as Rhysand’s hands slammed onto the desk he so rarely used.

The desk he only used when he wanted to speak to Azriel alone these days. 

Keep your hands off of my fucking princess.

The snarling command played on a loop in Azriel’s head.

And here he was, soaring low over the rooftops of the city, so easily identifiable in his leathers and Siphons. 

Reckless. 

Stupid. 

Everyone would see him.

People would talk.

He didn’t give a single shit.

He glided over the theater district, the Rainbow. The shadows whispered of shady dealings at the Palaces as they quickly passed beneath him—more insider trading from the governors, apparently, and Azriel tucked the information away for later—and gave way to the Sidra, which snaked down to the grander estates on the river’s eastern banks…

Neat, manicured hedgerows and alabaster stone crept into view.

Azriel hadn’t originally planned to go back to the River House at all after Rhysand summoned him out of the city for a meeting in the House of Wind. It was too risky, knowing Feyre would be home from her evening stroll to put the baby to bed by then. But his head went quiet at the sight of freshly trimmed rose bushes and clean-swept gravel paths. 

His feet touched down between the dahlias and the petunias.

And there she was, wielding a spade against the weeds that had terrorized her rhododendrons since the spring. It was undoubtedly hard work; as he watched, she sat back on her heels and swept the back of her hand over her glistening forehead, leaving a smudge of dirt on her smooth brow.

Elain, the shadows sighed fondly, forgetting the hell Azriel had just put them through.

One, a bold ribbon of utmost darkness, cooed, Princess.

As if Elain could hear the damned things calling to her, she turned her eyes toward him, squinting into the sun. Azriel’s chest squeezed with tenderness as her full lips formed a smile for him. Just for him.

“Azr— Oh!”

Azriel was upon her in three steps, falling to his knees in the cool patch of dirt beside her and hooking an arm around her waist. With his other hand, he took hold of her wrist, disarmed her in a swift, gentle twist of his. He tossed her spade into a bed across the gravel path. 

Better not to have sharp objects anywhere near her right now.

Her tinkling laughter trickled over him like water, a moment of cool relief from the sweltering day. ”Azriel, what in the world brought this on?”

He didn’t say a word. 

He wound the thick length of her hair around his fist and kissed her. It wasn’t a gentle kiss—it was clashing teeth and bruised lips and sharp, possessive nips until he tasted precious metal on his tongue. 

--- Continue on AO3.

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #my fics #a court of thorns and roses fic #azriel shadowsinger #elain x azriel #touch me hold me tell me #breathless

[whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk]

And, darling, all my dreaming has only been given a name (ao3)

Surprise and merry Christmas, @shadowsxgwynriel!! I'm your Secret Santa, and I'm so excited to finally deliver your @acotargiftexchange fic! I hope you like it-- I really loved writing this fic, and getting to know you over the past few weeks has been super fun. Enjoy, and I hope you have a wonderful holiday season! ❤️

It’s late— dark, and cold, and in the wake of Clotho suggesting that Gwyn begin to explore the world beyond the library, the priestess finds herself seeking comfort at the House training ring. But with her favourite Shadowsinger away on a mission, Gwyn finds herself musing on her fears and insecurities as she looks out over the city below, wondering if she’ll ever make it down there. When Azriel returns and takes her by surprise, the pair of them begin to realise that maybe they've been something more than friends all along. 

Moonlight bathed the training ring in quicksilver.

The vast space crowning the House of Wind was entirely empty, home to nothing but cold air and starlight and the promise of frost when the sun rose, and alone, Gwyneth Berdara stepped onto the smooth rock floor of the roof, fighting a shiver as the late-winter wind brushed her cheeks.

She wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing.

Barefoot, she wondered if she should have paused to change, or at least thought to wrap something around her shoulders to keep away the cold. But the night was deep and dark and quiet, and even though it was cold it was better than being inside— where she had lain awake in her bed in the library dormitories for hours, watching through her window as the moon tracked a slow and steady path across the sky. She had closed her eyes and wished for sleep, but it had slipped through her fingers each time she came close to grabbing it.

So here she was— still in her pyjamas, standing solitary on the roof, looking out at Velaris spread below.

Her eyes scanned the roof, searching in vain for shadows she knew she wouldn’t find tonight. There was no Shadowsinger in the corner, sharpening blades. No Spymaster wrapping his knuckles by the sparring ring.

For the first time in a long time, she was entirely, completely, alone.

The city sparkled below her, a swell of warm, golden lights. The moonlight turned the river to a ribbon of molten silver, and if she listened hard enough, if she strained her ears, she thought she might just be able to hear the sounds of those who lived only by starlight, who came alive at night, drifting up towards her on a gentle winter breeze. It was like another world, the city down there. Like another realm entirely— one that lingered just beyond the reach of her fingertips, a reality she could only ever reach for, never quite grasp.

It was a world Clotho had softly suggested Gwyn begin to explore.

But when it came to it - when Nesta knocked on her door in the library dormitories that morning ten days ago - Gwyn hadn’t found it in her to leave the shelter of these walls. Nesta had tried to persuade her, but it didn’t matter.

She wasn’t ready.

She might have been— had she not been abducted and forced to take part in the Blood Rite almost eight months ago. She might have been down there now, soaking up the moonlight in one of the late-night cafes by the Sidra. But she’d emerged from the Illyrian mountains all those months ago bruised and bloody, with nothing but a title she hadn’t ever wanted to earn and an overwhelming desire to bury herself back within the deepest parts of the library, where not even the sunlight could find her. For weeks afterward she had surrounded herself with nothing but the feel of parchment and the smell of ink, avoiding the outside world just like she had the first time she sought refuge there. 

Carynthian.

Carynthian— and too consumed by terror to take so much as a single step outside those mountainous walls.

It might have been funny, if the irony weren’t so brutal.

And with the nights drawing in and Solstice just a handful of days away, Gwyn didn’t quite think she’d see the candles burning in the windows up close this year— didn’t think she’d manage a walk by the Sidra, all frozen over, ice crawling up the banks.

And to make it all worse…

Azriel was away. Had been, for two weeks now. Fourteen whole days, not that she’d been counting.

…Except she had.

Every night as the sun sank behind the horizon, she’d added to that mental tally, keeping track of every minute he’d been gone.

If he were home, she knew she’d find him on the House roof. Perhaps that was why she’d ventured up here, seeking solace and hoping to find it even in his absence. He spent as many nights as she did kept from sleep, and where she had once tended to toss and turn until the sun stained the horizon pink, Azriel worked off his restlessness until his body had no choice but to rest— his mind no choice but to quiet. 

In the cold, she sighed.

She’d told him, before he left, what Clotho had suggested.

Two weeks and a day ago, she’d mentioned it to the Shadowsinger, and his reaction—

Well, she didn’t know what his reaction was.

He’d tried a smile— a typical Shadowsinger smile, one that was gently encouraging and only barely there. He’d looked intrigued, and told her he was proud of her, and something in her chest had practically glowed at that, a warmth reaching right the way down to her toes. She was sure the smile that had spread over her own face had been practically luminescent, and for a moment he’d looked stricken senseless. But then, later, when she’d been up at the House with Nesta and Emerie and she’d run into him again… his face had been stoic, and he’d been harder to read than usual, which was saying something. He’d told her that he was being sent away on a mission for the High Lord, and even though he’d told her he was looking forward to hearing all about her exploits in the city, there was something in his eyes that said he wasn’t looking forward to it at all. 

Something like disappointment. 

He was an enigma, that was for certain, she thought as she crossed the roof and leaned on the railing, looking down and down and down towards the city so many hundreds of miles below. Azriel was something she simultaneously felt like she knew down to her bones, but also something she hadn’t even begun to decipher.

It was… complicated. That’s what it was.

It was something that Nesta and Emerie liked to tease her about whenever they saw the opportunity— whenever they saw the blush that inevitably crept over her cheeks when they brought him up in conversation, or whenever they spied the easy grin that spread across her face whenever she was in the ring with him. They’d tease her about the way his shadows seemed to linger around her too, the way they seemed drawn to her lately, like they picked up on something their master did not.

Gods, Gwyn didn’t think she’d been subtle.

She’d never been subtle in her life.

And Nesta and Emerie had picked up on it, certainly. They had noticed the way her eyes followed him around the room, the way she sat up straighter whenever he entered. The way she was just… more when he was around, like he brought out something extra in her, something she’d been missing before. But Azriel… well. Either he was entirely ignoring the way he had her weak at the knees every time he looked at her, or he was entirely clueless.

She didn’t know which would be worse.

All she knew was that— she’d missed him.

These past two weeks, she’d missed him.

Another sigh left her, one that ached in about a hundred different ways. She rested her forearms on the stone ledge that surrounded the House roof, feeling the cold biting her uncovered skin. Perhaps she really should have brought a shawl or something— perhaps she should have paused for even a second to put on something warmer than her satin pyjamas.

Wryly, she shook her head.

She wasn’t thinking straight.

Hadn’t been thinking straight for fourteen days, if she cared to admit it.

Azriel had gone off on his mission and taken some small piece of her sanity with him, and she didn’t want to let herself wonder whether he’d been thinking of her these past two weeks the way she’d been thinking of him. Instead, she glanced up towards the moon— to the cold and distant light that bathed everything beneath in silver, and the sky that was a sheet of black pierced by the light of a thousand stars. 

And just as she was about to return to bed—

Something gave her pause.

The air shifted, and an awareness came over her that sent goosebumps scattering over her arms and a shiver crawling down her spine, borne not of the cold but solely of anticipation and expectation. Glancing over her shoulder, Gwyn felt something in her chest begin to hum, like the quiet beginning of a gentle overture, and as the sound of wingbeats sliced through the silence, she didn’t need to look up to know that Azriel had come home at last.

She didn’t need to— but she did, anyway, and as he landed smoothly on the smooth rock surface of the House roof, that humming in her chest felt more like a melody than anything else.

Clothed in the deepest black, Azriel was the night itself as he straightened and stretched his wings. From his midnight hair to his charcoal boots, the only colour was the blue of his siphons— a brilliant azure that glowed dimly and cast his jaw in sapphire light. His shadows swirled in the darkness but didn’t shy away from the light of the moon, and though he paused for a moment - looking at Gwyn like he couldn’t quite believe his eyes - one of those shadows darted out, separated from the pack, and skated along the stone wall until it rested right beside her wrist.

Gwyn smiled.

His shadows had grown bolder, lately.

A month ago two had even come to find her in the library, and followed her through the stacks until she tilted her head and asked, with no small degree of amusement, whether their master had sent them to check up on her. They had scurried back into the shadows, but she knew they remained there for the rest of the day, watching. And when she’d asked Azriel why he’d sent them, he’d only looked at her blankly, confusion written plainly all over his beautiful face, and said he had no idea what she was talking about.

She looked at that shadow now, suppressing a smile.

It’s master let his wings spread again, as if working off a long journey, and crossed the roof, his steps slow and considered as he made his way directly towards her.

“You’re back,” Gwyn said, pulling away from the wall that overlooked the city.

Azriel blinked once before his lips cut into a familiar, dry smirk. “Glad to see your observation skills haven’t dulled in the two weeks I’ve been away, Berdara.”

Gwyn felt a laugh rise in her throat. It was always like this between them, this easy kind of banter. He arched a brow, but there was a tentative sort of mirth in his eyes that he didn’t bother to conceal, and it made her feel… warm, despite the winter chill hanging like ice in the air. She tilted her head as he moved smoothly across the roof, and when he gave her a withering glance - one loaded with sarcasm - she felt her heart skip a beat.

“Glad to see you’re still an ass,” she retorted.

The smirk pulling at his lips grew bigger, and he dipped his head to hide it, but oh, Gwyn wished he wouldn’t. It was something he did often, she’d noticed, and now his hair fell across his face, and she wished, too, that she could reach out and push it back. But she figured that would be crossing some kind of line, one she wasn’t sure either of them were ready for, and so she kept her hands to herself, even as that lock of midnight dark hair brushed his eyebrows. He shook his head to shift it before rolling his shoulders and stretching his wings wide once more.

“Long journey?” she asked.

Azriel shrugged. “Long day,” he amended. “Long week.”

Gwyn took in the tension that cloaked him like a fine mist, the way he tucked his wings in and kept them close to his spine. His hand flexed towards Truth-teller at his hip, and as innately as if it were a sixth sense, she knew instantly that there was a reason he’d come right to the training ring upon arriving home. She could practically feel the weight of whatever it was that was on his mind, and so as she took a single step away from the stone wall and the city below, she said smoothly,

“I can’t sleep.”

It was an invitation hidden beneath such ordinary words— a hand extended in the language of evasion that the both of them spoke so well.

Az blinked. “Nor can I,” he admitted quietly.

Gwyn smiled, and even though she was wearing satin pyjamas, her hair in a loose plait, she put her shoulders back and cocked her head to the side, walking purposefully to the other side of the roof— where the sparring ring sat beneath the full light of the moon.

“Rematch, then? The last time we were in this ring I beat you, if I recall correctly.”

He snorted, but followed her nonetheless. “And if I recall correctly, that still leaves me with a running score of eight this month, compared to your paltry score of…” His eyes sparked. “What was it? Five?”

“Six,” Gwyn corrected flatly, folding her arms over her chest. “And about to be seven.”

Azriel rolled his eyes. “You’re hardly wearing sparring gear.”

She raised a brow. “Scared, Shadowsinger?”

His eyes darkened instantly, just as she’d known they would. “Scared?”

Just as she’d expected, his siphons flared. If there was one thing she’d learned in the time she had known him, it was how push him over the edge, how to get a rise out of him. It was ironic, really, she thought dryly, that he was so adept at keeping secrets and shutting himself away, but she’d still learned to read him like a book.

Idly, she hummed. “Mhm.”

“Am I scared that you’ll win?” His laugh was rough, acerbic, but his eyes glinted as he reached for the sheath at his other hip and took out a slender dagger. He tossed it to her, and when she caught it by the hilt, she saw the corner of his lips twitch. He lifted his chin, the moonlight glancing off his jaw, and— Gods, Gwyn could swear she felt her heart stop.

What she’d give to trace that jaw with her fingers. 

Silently she cursed, but Azriel didn’t seem to notice.

Oblivious, she thought wryly. Why is he always so oblivious?

He didn’t seem to notice, either, when her throat went dry as he removed his jacket, leaving him only in his leather pants and the black tunic that was doing nothing to hide the muscles of his incredibly sculpted chest. His shadows retreated, letting her catch a glimpse of his golden-brown skin and the tattoos swirling across his collarbone.

She cursed again as she tightened her grip on his dagger.

“I’ll take it easy on you,” Azriel drawled, dragging Gwyn from her thoughts, and if the timbre of his voice set a fire beneath her… well, then it was just one more thing the Shadowsinger either didn’t notice, or didn’t react to.

He rounded her, like a predator about to pounce, but Gwyn knew him too well by know, knew the way he moved and the way his weight shifted just before he was about to strike. They had spent too many nights up here, too much time in the sparring ring beneath the moon, and though Azriel might have had centuries of training on her - and a hell of a lot more strength to put behind his hits - Gwyn moved faster, and knew how to recognise his tells.

A second before he moved, he glanced to the right.

Once, Gwyn had fallen for it.

Once, she’d thrown all her weight in that direction, only to find he’d feinted.

Once— only once.

Az turned his head more definitely to the right, but when he slid to the left, Gwyn anticipated the move, and slammed her palm into his chest as her other hand, the one still holding the dagger, flipped and aimed a punch at his ribs with the flat side of the pommel. His hazel eyes widened.

“Good,” he murmured when the blunt end of her knife connected with his side. But before she could pull away completely, he hooked his leg around hers and pulled her weight from under her at the knee. He jerked back, leaving her to break her fall with her hands as she fell backwards, his dagger slipping from her hand and leaving only her palms to stop her back from hitting the ground. “But not good enough.”

Without hesitation she leaped up, dagger back in hand and eyes narrowed in determination. “You haven’t won yet, Shadowsinger.”

He smirked. “Oh, Priestess.” He practically purred as he unsheathed Truth-teller and flipped the blade in hand, and if Gwyn hadn’t been so determined to knock him on his back, she was fairly sure she’d have burned beneath his gaze. “I already know I’m going to win.”

“Don’t you remember the last time you bet against me?” she bit back. “Or do you just like the way losing feels?”

She cast her mind back to the obstacle course— the way Azriel had been so smug, so sure the Valkyries wouldn’t beat it. Their victory had been sweet enough, but it had been made oh so much sweeter when Azriel had been forced to admit that he was wrong.

He snorted, tilting his head as a cluster of shadows whispered along the white line that marked the sparring ring’s boundary.

And then the spymaster frowned.

Azriel was all too used to those shadows murmuring in his ear during a fight, predicting his opponent’s movements and giving him the upper hand, but whilst several of them remained twined around his arms… a band of shadows had drawn back, lingering outside the ring. Watching. And with the furrow that creased his brow, Gwyn didn’t think Azriel had ordered them to separate. Her eyes flicked to the side, curiosity cresting inside her, and from the corner of her eye, she could have sworn one of those shadows jerked, as if pointing at something— at the Shadowsinger’s left foot, where his balance was just ever so slightly off. Swiftly, Gwyn dropped to a crouch, wrapped her hand around that ankle and pulled, and when the Spymaster came crashing down into his back, she shot another glance to that patch of shadow, and thought that the way they shivered looked an awful lot like laughter.

Azriel lay there, beneath the night sky, with his chest rising and the expression on his face caught somewhere between stunned amusement and disbelief.

A smile tried to bloom in the corner of his mouth, but once more he masked it, pressed his lips together to suppress it.

Gwyn didn’t know why he still did that— fought it whenever his lips twitched. His smile was something beautiful, something rare, and made even more precious by its scarcity. The light danced over his cheekbones, and Gwyn straightened now, pulling away before she could get lost in the hazel of his eyes. She sat back and crossed her legs, but Azriel didn’t rise. He remained lying there, shooting a glare at the shadows lingering at the edge of the ring before shifting his gaze back up to the sky.

“You cheated,” he said dryly.

And Gwyn couldn’t help it— the huff of breath he let out clouded in the cold air, and the furrow between his brows deepened as it dawned on him that he’d lost… and it made something in her chest swell as her laughter broke free of her, cutting through the night and echoing off the bare rock of the mountain. And—

There.

That twitch at the corner of his mouth pulled in earnest, and as Azriel pushed up onto his elbows at last, bringing his face within inches of her own, she was rewarded with a real smile— one that was beautiful and bare and as bright as the moon overhead.

“I won fair and square,” she answered tartly as her laughter died, lifting her chin with conviction. “It’s not my fault your shadows like me more than they like you.”

He rolled his eyes, but didn’t sit up any further. He remained there, weight braced on his elbows, legs extended out as his wings brushed the floor of the training ground. Unguarded— this was the Shadowsinger at his most unguarded, and it was so rare that for a moment Gwyn wished for a moment that she were Nesta’s sister, wished she had the skill of the High Lady, so that she could paint this moment and remember it forever. The fearsome and fearless Spymaster, lying before her, exposed as the moonlight cast him in a silver glow.

And as her heart thumped once in her chest, something behind her ribs starting to ache, she found herself feeling more at peace than she had in the past two weeks, like his presence was somehow inherently soothing to her. It was a thought that her her lifting her head, and despite the way her pulse trembled, she said, softly,

“I missed you, you know.”

The spymaster smiled again, and she thought it might have been the most wondrous thing in the world.

And, quietly, he said,

“I missed you too.”

***

She was going to be the death of him.

Especially in those ridiculous satin pyjamas. A bright teal with thin straps at the shoulders and cut off at the ankle, Azriel didn’t think there could have been anything more inappropriate to spar in. But her auburn hair was like a fire beneath the moon, and the blue of her eyes was made deeper by that length of teal fabric, and for half a moment he let himself think that he could have had no better homecoming than this— a friend there to say hello as he landed.

I missed you, you know.

Did she know how her words seemed to echo? How they seemed to fill some long-abandoned void within his chest?

I missed you too.

It had shocked him, how easy it was to admit it. To say it out loud. He’d spent days thinking it, thinking of her, and it came so naturally now, to sit before her and say those words. Her lips parted, her eyes gleamed, and Azriel had to clear his throat before he did something stupid.

“How was the city?” he asked, changing the subject too swiftly to dwell much on how he had spent days dreading her answer. He wondered if she could tell that it was taking every ounce of strength he had to keep his voice easy, casual.

Azriel had never really thought he was one for jealousy.

But when Gwyn had told him that Clotho was encouraging her to leave the library… he hadn’t been able to stop himself from imagining it, imagining him being the one to take her down those cobbled streets. Gwyn was his friend, and he wanted to be the one looking at the wonder in her eyes the first time she saw the Rainbow. He wanted to sit beside her and order cake at a riverside cafe. He could almost smell the hot chocolate in the air, taste the sugar that would dust her lips…

And then Rhys had tasked him with surveillance on the Continent, a two week mission, and he’d known that he wouldn’t be the one taking her anywhere.

It shouldn’t have stung as much as it did, and he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t bothered him these past two weeks. Lying, too, if he said it wasn’t why he’d come straight to the training ring on arriving home, instead of heading for his bed. 

One lone shadow crept closer, moving slowly until it brushed Gwyn’s ankle and rounded it. Again Azriel frowned. He hadn’t told it to do anything, but it moved of its own accord. Gwyn’s lips curved into a soft smile, those depthless eyes glinting in the silver light. She uncurled her fingers, spread them like she were wading through water, and the shadow by her ankle drifted to her hand, weaving through her fingers.

Briefly Azriel wondered what it would be like if it were his fingers sliding in the gaps between hers rather than his shadows, but he shut the thought down before it could do anything more than flicker across his mind. 

It wouldn’t do him well to think along those lines— never had, if his past experience with Mor was anything to go by.

Gwyn tilted her head now.

“The city?” she asked, and though her voice was light, Azriel didn’t fail to notice her hesitation, or the way she’d dropped her gaze to the floor beneath them. He hummed an affirmative, but the priestess only shook her head. Still, she didn’t lift her eyes. “I didn’t go,” she said quietly.

That surprised him.

“Can I ask why?” he began slowly.

He didn’t know why he felt like he needed to know— it wasn’t like he had any right to pry, did he? His shadows tittered in the corner, and not for the first time he got the uncanny feeling that they knew something they weren’t willing to share with him. Gwyn shook her head and lifted her chin, forcing a smile onto her lips, but it was wan and thin and entirely superficial. Her teal eyes flicked back down to the single shadow dancing between her fingers.

“I just— didn’t feel up to it.”

She shrugged, like it was nothing, but Azriel knew her well enough by now to know it wasn’t nothing. He leaned forward, draping an arm casually across his knee.

“Why?” he asked again, a shade softer. Her eyes finally lifted— met his. And maybe it was the moonlight and the way it shone on her freckled skin - the way it made him want to count each and every one of them scattered across her cheeks - or perhaps it was just the long day he’d had - the long fortnight - and the fact that sleep had evaded him for days, but the air suddenly felt a little bit thinner when their gazes locked.

He blinked.

Gwyn lifted her chin, ever brave in the face of adversity.

Damn if it wasn’t one of the things he admired most about her.

His chest warmed at that thought. His shadows tittered again, and he fought the urge to frown as he focussed all of his attention on her, sitting cross-legged by his side. A breeze ruffled her hair, and suddenly he wondered if she was cold in those satin pyjamas. 

“I don’t think I’m ready,” she whispered, like it was a confession.

Azriel was silent for a moment, before he leaned forward an inch.

“It’s a big step,” he said, his voice more gentle than he’d heard it for an age. He’d almost forgotten he could be that way. So caught up was he in death and darkness, he’d forgotten that parts of his soul sometimes yearned for the light, too.

Gwyn shook her head again, as if trying to shake off her uncertainty. Her smile turned soft— genuine.

“Alright Shadowsinger,” she said briskly. “I told you why I was up here at this time of night in my pyjamas. Your turn.”

Azriel lifted a brow. “My turn?”

She hummed, and gods, the sound was like music to him, a melody he felt resonate deep inside his bones.

“Tell me what it is that’s bothering you,” she demanded.

He stilled, pulling back the inch he’d leaned forward earlier.

How did she know?

And how did he even begin to—

“Come on,” she said, poking him in the knee. The casualness of it might have astounded him had his mind not been too busy trying to figure out some way of evading her question. He might have scoffed— the mighty spymaster, chief of Night Court intelligence, expert at extracting secrets from sealed lips… practically falling apart under that blue-eyed gaze, like her eyes were sharper than any blade he’d ever used to uncover unwitting truths.

I was jealous, his mind whispered. Jealous of someone else being by your side when you see the world outside these walls. 

Selfish— he knew that.

It was ridiculously selfish.

And yet.

Gwyn pursed her lips expectantly, and Azriel let out a bitter huff.

He would not give in.

He would not give in.

He would stay silent, and absolutely, categorically, would. not. give. in—

“Az,” Gwyn said, and just that one word, those two little letters…

Fuck.

“I wanted to go into the city with you,” he said slowly, his voice low. It sounded stupid, sounded pathetic, and he hated it.

Gwyn blinked, her eyelashes fluttering as her lips parted in surprise. He’d shocked her, and he couldn’t say he did that often. She usually had an uncanny ability to know what he was thinking before it had even crossed his own damned mind.

“You— that’s what’s bothering you?”

He glowered at the sky as he waited for the moment she drew back, drew away from the parts of himself he kept most closely guarded.

But it didn’t come.

She let out a soft, tentative breath that sounded unnervingly like a giggle.

“It’s ridiculous,” Azriel said flatly, not knowing why he carried on speaking. He cursed his mouth for shaping the words when all he wanted was to keep them inside— but something about her coaxed honesty from him. Made him want to step out of the shadows for the first time in centuries. So he took a breath, steeled himself. “I’d had this whole trip planned out—”

Gwyn surged up onto her knees.

“So take me,” she said, her eyes still wide. Her hair had escaped her plait, brushed her cheeks, and Azriel longed to reach out and tuck it back behind her ear. “I want you to take me into the city.”

A beat passed between them, a moment of loaded silence, and then, quietly, she added,

“I could do it if it were you by my side.”

“Truly?”

A brave smile crossed her face.

“Tell me what you had planned, Shadowsinger.”

So he did— the Rainbow, the river, the cafe, and the cake. All of it. And when he was done, Gwyn leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Just once— but her lips lingered for a moment, and his heartbeat stilled. A warmth spread through him, one that felt startlingly like coming home, and even though his bruised and battered instincts were begging him to pull away, to put up his walls and retreat behind the safety of them, he looked into her eyes - as wide and as blue as a Summer Court sea - and realised that, for the first time, he didn’t want to pull away— didn’t want the safety that came with distance and isolation. 

And perhaps it was her bravery bringing out the same in him, because when he looked at her, he didn’t see the priestess he’d rescued that awful, awful day from Sangravah. Instead, he saw a woman strong in the face of her past— brave and determined and somehow still managing to smile through it all, and gods—

She…

She was more than a friend, wasn’t she?

He thought of every moment they’d ever spent in that training ring, every time they’d run into one another in the halls of the House. Every look she’d ever given him suddenly felt so much more significant, and everything he’d been too apprehensive to understand before suddenly became clear. A feeling he didn’t dare to name pulsed through him, a trembling that started in his chest and echoed right through to his fingertips.

For a moment, he didn’t move, too stunned to think, to breathe, but when her eyes dropped to his lips…

It was the only confirmation he needed. 

His shadows tittered again, and he got the distinct impression that they’d known about this for far, far longer than he had.

“Shadowsinger,” she whispered, her eyes catching once more on his mouth.

And Azriel felt himself smile - and how foreign it felt, to truly smile - before at last being bold enough to reach out and brush those loose strands of hair back from her face. 

“Priestess,” he answered.

Her heartbeat stumbled— he heard it, clear as day. Her eyelids fluttered, and good gods, he wanted to kiss her. Realised that he’d wanted to kiss her for a long time now, but had been so adept at pushing away his own damn feelings that he hadn’t even realised. She’d snuck up on him, worked her way inbetween his cracks and settled herself right within the centre of his heart.

And he didn’t mind one bit.

He let his hand drop from where it had tucked her hair behind her delicately arched ear, but he didn’t let it fall completely. No— for the first time in years, he wasn’t thinking about the skin of his hands, roughened by scars, as he let it hang in the air between them. He wasn’t thinking about the pain in his past, either. But for the pain in hers… he kept his every move slow, giving her every opportunity to pull away, and when he turned his hand and skimmed her cheek with the palm of his hand…

Gywn loosed a soft sigh.

His fingers came to cradle her jaw, his thumb brushing the edge of her lips, and he didn’t think she was breathing anymore. Come to think of it, he didn’t think he was, either.

His shadows practically thrummed from the edge of the ring, but he wasn’t listening to their whispers. His attention was focused solely on her, on the way the silver light made her blue eyes shine like the deepest, most precious kind of topaz. The clouds shifted and the moonlight shone on her auburn hair, and when he heard her heartbeat flutter—

Azriel cast off the last of the trepidation, and kissed her.

Slowly at first— like the first tentative steps in uncharted territory. Achingly slowly, he traced her lips with his own, feeling her melt into him at the first brush of his tongue against her, and gods, he thought a light might have erupted behind his eyelids as her hands wandered across his neck, her fingers tracing the tattoos inked there before tracking a path up and into his hair. He might have groaned as her fingers grew tangled there, might have felt himself tremble as she tugged on a strand of sable hair and pressed him closer to her.

“Is this okay?” he breathed.

Gwyn laughed against him - he’d never heard a sound more beautiful - and batted at his chest. His heart swelled in answer.

“Okay?” she repeated. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that for months.”

He felt his lips curve as one hand fell away from her jaw and rounded her waist, resting in the small of her back.

“Sorry I’m late then,” he drawled.

She shrugged, winding both of her arms around his neck and holding him there, in the circle of her arms.

“Better late than never,” she whispered, before bringing him back to her for another kiss, one that seemed to ignite every part of his cold, shadowed soul. A fire raged within him, and as his hands drifted lightly across her waist, fingers slipping on satin, he held her closer to his chest, savouring the taste of her, the feel of her, the weight of her against him.

And when she breathed his name against his lips, Azriel could swear he felt her soul twine around his, like they’d been stumbling in the darkness all this time and now, now, they had found one another at last. He pulled back to let her breathe, and moved instead to press soft kisses to her cheek. Her fingers wound themselves back in his hair, and as the dawn began to stain the edges of the horizon, Azriel felt Gwyn in his arms and couldn’t help but think—

Better late than never, indeed.

#gwynriel #gwynriel fic

[bubybubsters]

The Best Friend

a/n: I changed the title but still. This is based off my life, please, this is the one fic I ask for no constructive criticism. It still hurts like hell, but it’s whatever at this point. No one cares

wc: 1100

⚠️- unrequited love

masterlist

*****

ever loved someone who your best friend also loves? loved someone who will never love you back because they’re with your best, best friend? the friend you are loyal to and has been through so much, and deserves the his love more then you do? Ever backed off from a possible relationship because of the feeling of guilt eating you alive? Because you know your friend loves him, wants him, has him? I have and I can tell you right now, it sucks and it hurts like hell.

I glanced across the training ring and my heart clenched as I spotted Azriel and Gwyn training together. A flash of light caught my eye and I barely blocked Emeries’ sword from cutting me open. She throws me a pitying look and I pin her with a threatening look. She glances over my shoulder, a grimace on her face as she looks at our friend and the shadowsinger Their positions haven’t changed. What had she been grimacing about? Shit. My brain caught up and I was suddenly knocked to the ground with a sword at my throat and Emerie grinning down at me.

“Yield?”

I grin at her, the only warning before I knee her in the stomach and this time I’m on the top. with correct positioning so she can’t do anything to my stomach.

“Yield?”

“Yield.”

I forget about my heartache for a moment as Nesta and Cassian cheer. The two of us bow sarcastically at our audience of priestesses and Emerie holds two fingers over my head to make bunny ears. I swat and her and she chuckles before Rhysand sweeps in and they start the journey back to windhaven. Gwyn comes over and claps me on the back, handing me a two cups of water. I dunk one back as I see Azriel come over.

“Jeez Y/n, slow down a bit.”

I smirk and splash the water at him. It hits him in the chest and he growls.

“You’re done for.”

I laugh, sprinting down the stairs leading into the House of Wind.

“HEY, you didn’t cool down!!”

Cassian’s warning goes unanswered as I winnow out to meet Madja. The old healer eyes me up and down, shaking her head.

“You can’t take your lessons like this girl.”

*****

Two hours later, I’m in the library reading a murder mystery in a little alcove. Footsteps echo around and I can tell Gwyn is approaching fast. I put on a smile as Gwyn comes running in, books under her arm, a wide smile on her face.

“We kissed! We kissed!!”

I gasp and the painful ache in my heart expands as Gwyn sits down and talks on and on about her kiss with the spymaster.

I know she deserves it, after all she’d been through, there was nothing she didn’t deserve. And I smile because I am happy for her. Even if my heart breaks at the thought of them together, I will stay and support my friend.

“— then Cassian came back up to get a dagger he forgot and Azriel’s shadows didn’t deign to tell us. So Cassian ended up standing there awkwardly for so long until we noticed him. I was so embarrassed!! We’d just been kissing with so much passion and CASSIAN WAS JUST STANDING THERE, WATCHING!”

I bite my bottom lip in an attempt not to laugh as I meet Azriel’s wide eyes through a bookshelf. He puts a finger against his lips and I nod with a smug smirk.

“Anyway Y/n. What should I do?? He asked me out and it’s tomorrow at 7pm!!”

My heart stops, they’re really going to be together. My body tenses of its own accord and I clench my fists to stop from punching something.

“Uh well, you’ve got to pick something to wear that’s not too formal. Maybe a cobalt shirt with black leggings? Don’t think about it too much, just pretend you’re with me. Talk about things you love, your eyes light up and it looks really beautiful. He’ll be to shocked to respond.”

I smile at the thought of Azriel at a loss for words and Gwyn squeals, tackling me in a hug.

“Thank the cauldron, you’re a life saver! But Merrill’s gonna skin me alive if I keep her waiting any longer! Thanks y/n!”

She runs off and soon her footsteps disappear down the hallway.

Azriel comes out from his hiding spot and grins easily at me. “Thanks for not ratting me out, sunshine.”

I blush (as always) at the nickname and shake my head at him.

“What were you even doing??”

“Oh um. Just wanted to make sure she enjoyed it as much as I did and doesn’t have any regrets.”

I nod in understanding; Azriel has opened up to me about his insecurities a few times and ask me for advice on Gwyn. The thing is, I can even be mad at him for only talking to me about Gwyn. No. He asks me questions and listens when I talked without end about my troubles. God damn nice shadowsinger.

I’ve got to tell him. I can’t do it after he and Gwyn start, that would just be worse.

“Azriel… I’ve been meaning to speak with you.” At his raised eyebrow I continue nervously. “Thank you for talking and listening to me, it means a lot and I will always appreciate the time you put aside for me. It means too much, too much to be friendly — see Azriel, what I’m trying to say is that, I like you, more then friendship, I love you.” I awkwardly watch him as he stares at me. I wait, and I wait, and I wait.

But he turns around and leaves, not looking back once.

And I feel my heart break

*****

A year later

I watch from the corner of the living room as everyone exchanges gifts for Solstice. I watch as Azriel gets on one knee. As he opens a box, and asks the word I always wished would be directed to me.

“Gwyn, my darling, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

My not so best friend squeals with delight and I smile for her. Because even though she rarely speaks to me, I still love her with all my heart. My heart that is currently rebreaking after it just healed. I’ll heal again, I always do. That’s my greatest strength, or maybe my greatest weakness.

A flash of red hair appears in my vision and I spot Lucien. He smiles at me, handing me a small, beautifully wrapped box.

“Happy Solstice y/n.”

*****

a/n: hope you enjoyed, I’m not a big fan personally but yeah. Like, reblog and comment!

taglist

@thelov3lybookworm @profound-imagination @stargirl1714

#bubybubsters #acotar #fanfic #acowar #azriel fanfic #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #lucien x you

[reyla-the-black-wolf]

Unexpected

(my first fic omg!!)

☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎

☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎

Writing prompt: here

Pairing: f!reader x batboys

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: brief mentions of fighting, injury and blood, slight angst

Summary: You wanted to help, but made a mistake. Thankfully, your family understands

☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎

To my surprise, the training ring was empty. Usually it’s occupied by Cassian and Azriel. Or the Valkyries. But today I was lucky. I had just returned from a mission in Windhaven and needed to work off some rage. Those stubborn Illyrians! So narrow-minded and aggressive. I went there to make sure the girls and women got some training, but as always, it takes a lot of persuasion to get these bigots to actually train them. A few discussions later and maybe some fighting, I felt like beating them up again. 

Anyway, I was relieved to be back in the House of Wind. I wouldn’t have to worry about them for a while and my mind could relax. Leaving my satchel on the golden sand of the training ground, I walked towards the centre. Already dressed in my fighting gear, I started throwing punches into the air, to release some of my tension. The sound of my breathing, the crunching of sand beneath my boots, the smell of dried blood on my clothing and nothing but the silence surrounded me. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t last long. Recognising heavy footsteps behind me, I stopped and turned around, growling on the inside. Standing in front of me, was my older brother Cassian. Two heads taller, all muscled and with a look of amusement on his face. „Has the air done something, to upset you?“, a grin creeping upon his lips. „Maybe you did something to annoy me as usual.“, I countered, teasing him a bit. „We haven’t even seen each other today!“, he dramatically placed a hand on his chest in pain. I chuckled in response. „Don’t worry, I’m fine.“ Obviously, I didn’t sound very convincing, because he looked me up and down, as if searching for any wounds. His amusement and grin faded as he sniffed the air. 

„Is that blood?“, asked Cass, alarmed. „Don’t worry, it’s not mine.“, I huffed, thinking about the man in the camp earlier, who refused to follow my orders. „Is that supposed to reassure me?“, he said, worry in his tone. It took all of my nerves, not to roll my eyes at him. „There are bloodstains on your clothes y/n! Tell me what happened.“, the anger in his voice better not to be ignored. 

„Nothing bad happened. At least not really.“, I continued, feeling a little guilty. „I saw Rhysand’s request for women’s training on your desk this morning. There’s been so much going on in your life lately, with Nesta, your missions and your position as Commander. So I thought, I’d help you out and make sure those idiots follow your commands.“ He listened in silence. „Well, one of the men I was arguing with, repeatedly refused to train any woman… so maybe I lost my temper and lashed out.“ I could literally feel Cass’ distress. But also his fury. „He didn’t like that one bit.“, I said, laughing nervously. „We started wrestling on the ground and he tried to go for my throat, but I was faster, so my fist struck his jaw. The man lost some teeth and his blood spilled on my clothes. That’s how I got it, but I’m all right. Just like I told you.“ I held my head up high, as if protesting like a little child.

 „You could’ve been seriously injured. I know your fighting is great. I trained you myself.“, he looked at me with brotherly love in his hazel eyes, „but you have to be more careful!“ I sighed. „And next time, I suggest you ask me, if there’s anything you can do to help. Otherwise, please keep your hands off my tasks, okay?“ He sounded concerned, but the anger in his eyes was definitely a warning. „´Cause if you don’t, then I'll have to deal with whatever you might have screwed up later, understand?“ I glared at him, feeling like an immature child, being disciplined by its father. But after a while, I agreed with him. „Oh, and could you please not tell Rhys about this accident?“, I pleaded, looking up at him with big doe eyes. 

„Tell me what?“, a sinister voice asked, before Cass had a chance to answer. We turned, to see Rhys and Azriel walking towards us with long strides. Damn it… 

Azriel’s shadows surrounded me in an instant, as if to make sure everything was alright. Goosebumps spread down my neck, as they swirled up and down my body. With a pleading look in my eyes, I looked up at Cassian. He shifted his reproachful gaze from his brothers down to me. „Cassian!“, I warned him, „Don’t you dare.“ His eyebrows shot up, as if to say they’re my brothers! I won’t lie to them!

I know, I've done something wrong. But does the High Lord really need to know about it? 

Az and Rhys exchanged some puzzled glances, while I scowled at Cass.

„Why do you smell of blood?“, Rhys suddenly asked in a serious tone, sniffing the air. Before I could answer him, Cass cut me off. „She smells like that, because she completed the mission, you assigned me to do this morning.“ Great! Thanks brother! „You went to Windhaven?“, Rhysand’s voice was like the calm before a storm. A shiver ran down my spine. The tension was building around the three of us. With guilt in my voice I replied: „Yes, I did. I only wanted to help Cass with his duties.“ I tried not to look down at my feet. 

„Some things got out of hand, but in my defense, you Illyrians can be pretty stubborn!“ „You had a little fight, didn’t you?“, Rhys stated, unable to hide his smirk. Unwilling to meet his eyes any longer, I turned my gaze to his jacket. My eyes followed the silver threads on it. Rhys studied me for a moment, before speaking. „If you wish to work more y/n, just let me know, okay?“ Sympathy flashed in his violet eyes, as I gathered the strength to look up again. „I’m sure, we’ll find something for you.“ I swallowed, not sure what to answer. 

„It was kinda foolish, wasn’t it?“ „Y/n, you’re still young. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes. We’ll make sure everything goes well in Windhaven.", he assured me. "Please leave that in our hands.“ I nodded. „We could also tell you many stories about your brother and his nonsense, when he was your age.“, Azriel interrupted. His cheeks turning slightly red, Cass intervened: „That’s not for her ears, Az!“ „I’d love to hear those stories one day.“, I chuckled, glad the tension was easing. „Oh, I think she’s old enough, Cas.“, Rhys smiled. „I dare you to tell her!“ A laugh escaped my lips at his defensiveness. „We’ll see about that, but for now let’s go to lunch.“, he demanded. „Elain and Feyre have cooked something for us today. And my stomach is already rumbling.“ With a sigh of relief, that the subject was over for today, Cassian relented and walked to the edge of the training ring. Grinning, I picked up my bag and followed them. Silently thanking Rhys for his understanding and support.

☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎

After a quick shower, I now sat at the table, eating the meal, Feyre and Elain had cooked for us. It tasted absolutely delicious. My eyes wandered around and caught Mor stealing some vegetables from Az’ plate. Elain talking to Feyre about some art designs. I closed my eyes to enjoy this  moment with my family. 

A deep, rumbling laugh to my left, brought me back to the ongoing conversation. „I wouldn’t do that, if I were you!“, Cas pointed his fork at Rhysand. „My little sister is perfectly capable of defending herself.“ Pride in his voice. Rhys turned his attention to me. „Y/n, at least tell me, you’ve given that guy a lesson about what happens, when he doesn't respect women?“ „I kicked some of his teeth out. Was that enough?“, I asked with an innocent smile. „I wouldn’t want to fight with you.“, Feyre grinned, as she cut a piece of meat in half. Her mate spoke, while holding his wine glass: „Well, it doesn’t hurt them to be put in their place occasionally.“ He gave me a knowing wink and I blushed. 

The conversation went on, until Az began to tell a story about an embarrassing event, that happened to my older brother recently. He stopped abruptly, when Cass lunged forward and tried to silence him. The others, myself included, were still sitting at the table, all laughing at the ridiculous scene that was unfolding in front of us. Cass and Az were rolling around on the floor in an attempt to fight each other. Mor and Rhys already started betting on who was going to win. All the laughter around me, warmed me to the depths of my soul. The man in the camp already forgotten. The tension from earlier today, completely gone by now. Tears of joy welled up in my eyes. I made a mental note, to always remember this beautiful moment with my family. Because right now, they’re all that matters. 

☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎☾��︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎☽⭐︎

Omg, can't believe it right now! I posted my first fanfiction ever! I'm so excited :)

If anybody reads this, I hope you liked it! I'm always open to improvements and criticism. Although I'm new here, feel free to send me requests if you want. I'd love that :) Also, English is my second language, so if there are any mistakes, I'm sorry...

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #acotar oneshot #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar x reader #acotar fandom #acotar fluff #acotar bat boys #fluff #a bit angsty #angst #first fanfic #first fic

[venus-celestial]

[I'm still working on priestess Nesta it's just being a pain in the ass because I have shit eyesight and I'm using my phone because my iPad broke so it's a small screen

In the mean time here are more aus/fic ideas that won't leave/have popped into my head]

Nesta having wings and hiding them from the ic and Cassian and eventually they get revealed and the boys and Feyre try to teach her how to fly and with everyone else on the ground prepared to catch her and it's absolute chaos

Any romance book setting like literally any romance book on tiktok with a modern setting I want a nessian au of that

Nesta eating/taking something that completely changes her personality like it's a complete 180 she's now ridiculously happy bubbly and also just agrees with everything anyone says or tells her to do and the ic just completely don't like it and try and find a way to fix it before the effects are permanent

Rhys Sister's spirit attaching herself to Nesta from the moment she steps in the house of wind when she's first turn Fae and gaining a physical form from Nesta's powers and proceeding to relentlessly care for Nesta like making her eat and sleep and just taking care of her because God damn it someone has to

I forgot if this is an actual thing he can do but Rhys offering to just erase Nesta's memories of the cauldron and Nesta then asking him to just erase all her memories and basically reset her entire being and Rhys having to convince her to not do/want that

Au where they're all in a modern world like Crescent City and they're all shifters of some kind just not human none of them are human

Fawn Nesta that's it just Nesta as like a fawn shifter or something and she's just fucking adorable but also will stab you and no one knows what to do

Saying that Nesta as any kind of adorable animal she is cute but she will stab you and Cassian is absolutely smitten

Nesta with siphons bonus points if they're red to match Cassian and he absolutely loses his mind about it to the point that they don't leave their room for days

That's it for now feel free to use these ideas and tell me what you think of them

have very lovey day everyone

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #nesta acotar #nesta archeron #cassian #azrael #crescent city #rhysand #feyre archeron #elain archeron #acotar au #acotar fanfiction

[browneyedgirly93]

Like An Autumn Breeze

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

Summary: You are the youngest Archeron sister only 16 years old when you are shoved into the cauldron along with your two eldest sisters. You quickly learn that you are mated to the heir of The Autumn Court. 

Eris x Reader

Warnings: fear?

Word Count: 1562 A/N: This is my first multipart fic! I hope you enjoy it, I know that this premise has been done a ton but I hope you enjoy my rendition of it! :)

Part One

I was grabbed by two of Hybern’s guards and dragged towards the cauldron so much rage was coursing through my body, I began clawing at the soldiers bucking wildly trying to get out of their grasp. Nothing was working, they were much stronger than I was. If I hadn’t been gagged I would have spit in their faces. I continued flailing and bucking as I was lifted up and dropped into the water. 

I tried to grab the side of the cauldron but the soldiers pushed me down into the freezing cold water. Suddenly it felt like a fire had erupted in my heart and in that instant, I knew I was dying. I could feel my limbs extending with excruciating pain, it felt like every muscle was being torn. The fire was pulsing through my veins and I couldn’t contain it any longer. I watched as flames shot out of my hands in firey ribbons, mixing with the black inky water it began swirling around me. It was beautiful and terrifying all at once.

“The youngest of the sisters, your soul burns with rage and fear” an ancient voice filled my head as the fire swirled closer around me the temperature getting hotter. “This fire is not ordinary fire, it burns brighter and hotter than the rest.” The fire engulfed me burning me to my core. With that the cauldron tipped and I was dumped on the floor gasping for air. Feyre rushed to my side reaching out to me she pulled her hand away looking down to see a burn mark, looking down at me I met her eyes. 

“It burned me” I rasped out as everything went black.

It had been a month since that awful day in Hybern when my sisters and I had been made Fae by the Cauldron. I was living in The Night Court in the House of Wind with my Elain, Nesta and Lucien while Cassian and Azriel looked after us. I had been watching as Elain wasted away to nothing and Nesta watched over her, neither one of them even bothering to ask how I was feeling. 

I was so angry, I felt like I was going to burst into flame at any moment. I didn’t feel like myself anymore, my entire body was different I was taller and my limbs were longer. My face was more angular and sharp, with pointed ears, my eyes seemed bigger than before and my hair had changed shades. Instead of the golden-brown hair my sisters and I had shared, mine had changed to a more orange tone. I didn’t recognize the female in the mirror anymore and that made me so angry.

I needed to do something with all this pent-up anger, I needed to turn this rage into something positive or it would eat me alive. Before I could change my mind I went searching for Azriel, asking him to winnow me to the townhome. He did so without any questions and then immediately faded into the shadows.

I walked to Rhysands office, beginning to feel a bit nervous. I raised my hand to knock and before my knuckles hit the door I heard him calling. “Come in Y/N!” I pushed open the wooden door and walked in. He was sitting at his desk watching me with a feline smile plastered on his face. “What can I do for you today?”

I sat down in one of the leather chairs facing his desk and placed my hands in my lap, taking a deep breath I said “I want to help with the preparations for the oncoming war.” 

“Is that so?” he asked a hint of amusement flickered in his violet eyes as he leaned back in his chair stretching out his legs in front of him and placing an ankle on his knee. I stared into his eyes nodding. 

“I don’t have many skills, but I am willing to learn” I said trying to hold the gaze of The High Lord of The Night Court, his face unreadable. Silence filled the room and I fidgeted slightly, he was either in deep thought or having a silent conversation with someone from the Inner Circle. The silence was nearly deafening, I could feel the flame flickering to life inside of me. “Please Rhys I need to do something, I can’t keep sitting around in that house anymore.” I pleaded.

“Alright, you begin training with Cassian and Azriel tomorrow morning. Have you been experimenting with your powers?” he said simply. I shook my head as fear flittered across my eyes and I watched his face change, he looked at me with such sympathy. “Have you tried to use your powers at all?”

“No, I’m too afraid” I sighed looking down at my hands ashamed.

“Y/N I know you’re afraid, but we need to start working on learning about your powers. Not just so you can learn to use them, but so nothing happens to you because of them.” he lets out a puff of air. “I would never forgive myself and I know Feyre would murder me if anything happened to you.” 

“How?” I whispered.

“We will work together to figure it out, in the afternoons after you’ve finished working with Cass or Az I will meet with you and we will start learning about your powers. If I cannot be there I will send Mor or Amren in my place.” he smiled softly at me. “On days we are not training your magic you will be learning to read and write, if Feyre was neglected in her studies I can only assume you were as well.”

“Yes” I nodded raising my eyes to meet his, his gaze was filled with sympathy. “Thank you Rhys!”

“I will collect you after lunch tomorrow and we will begin our first lesson.” There was a knock on the door and Cassian joined us. Rhys explained the plan for my training and Cassian was excited to see what I could do. 

I had stepped away from the sparring ring to gulp down a cold glass of water and turn to find Cassian stalking over to me with a smirk on his face.

“Please tell me you’re not gonna make me train for longer” I said while crossing my arms across my chest. He shook his head chuckling at me.

“You’re in luck this time, Rhys wants you down at the Town House.” he said grabbing my hand gently and lifting me into his arms.

“Cass, what are you doing?” I shrieked as he took to the skies and we flew through the skies causing him to roar with laughter. I squeezed my eyes shut as hard as I could not wanting to look, another shriek left my lips as I felt us falling and suddenly we were floating down slowly. My feet hit the ground and I opened my eyes, whirling on Cassian my fists already raise he was already on the porch of the Townhouse holding the door open for me.

“Ladies first” he said bowing slightly, I glared at him.

“I hate you” lifting my hand and pinching him in the arm, his yelp quickly turned to laughter as he followed me through the door. 

“No you don’t” he smirked and walked over to the couch and flopped down. I stomped further into the house to see Rhys and Feyre waiting in the living room.

“Y/N” A smiling Feyre looks up at me, her lips thinned into a grimace as she looked at Cassian. “What did you do?” 

“Absolutely nothing” he smirked stretching his legs out on the low-lying coffee table and placing his hands behind his head.

“Nothing!?” I scoffed throwing my arms in the air dramatically. “I’m afraid of heights Cassian!” The three of them burst out laughing and I can’t help but join in.

“I’m sorry Y/N” Cassian says getting up and patting me on the crown of my head, I swat at him as he scurries away. I walked towards my sister and her mate sitting down in a large velvet chair across from the couch they are occupying.

“So what’s up?” I ask.

“We have a mission for you of sorts” Rhys smiled at me, I lift an eyebrow in question and he continues. “As you know we are working to form an alliance with the Autumn Court and specifically with Eris Vanserra the eldest of Beron’s sons and his heir.”

“In a few days we will be going to Hewn City for one of our regular visits, and we would like you to join us.” Feyre took over from Rhys. My stomach tightened, I had not been to the Court of Nightmares yet but had been told about it. They could both sense my fear. “You will be safe Y/N!”

“We ask you to come because Eris will be joining us that evening and we would like you to entertain him.” Silence filled the room as they both watched me, my gaze was shifting between them.

“Why? What’s wrong with him?” I squinted at them.

“He’s an arrogant, obnoxious asshole. But I’m sure you’ll put him in his place.” Rhys winked at me with a laugh as Cassian bounded back into the room with a bottle of wine, four stemmed glasses appeared on the table in front of us.

#acotar fanfiction #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #acotar #rhysand #feyre #cassian #azriel

[tsunami-of-tears]

A Court of Shadows and Sunshine — Part Three

Azriel x OC

Summary: The pull between Aurora and Azriel only grows stronger.

A/N: This fic is ridiculous, I’m having so much fun writing it x

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: Swearing, sexual themes, mention of death

Part Two

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧

Aurora

A few days had passed since your visit to the House of Wind, and you were doing everything you could to keep from thinking about it. You threw yourself into your work, you couldn’t even bring yourself to read. The thoughts those books triggered were far too dangerous, not to mention unprofessional. 

It’s late in the evening, you’re still at your studio working on a new program when you hear a knock on the door. 

Who would be stopping by at this hour? 

You open the door to find a familiar blonde female standing there.  

“It’s getting bloody cold out!” Mor walks past you into the warmth of your studio. “So, I heard you taught a special class this week. How did you go?” Mor raises her brows and grins.

“I got offered an ongoing position, so I’d say it went fairly well. I must say, I have been wondering who gave Nesta my details.” You raise your brows back at the female. 

“Now that is a good question, Rory.” 

You sigh and shake your head. You had suspected Mor was behind it in some way - she was such a busybody. 

“Whatever you did, thank you. At this rate I owe you a heck of a lot of favours.” 

Mor just laughs and shrugs you off. “What are friends for?” She pauses briefly, “I did genuinely come here to check on you. How are you doing?” 

“Oh you know, same old. Keeping busy.” 

“Okay I guess I’ll leave you to it, you should probably get home soon though. It’s late.” Mor makes a move towards the door. “You know where to find me if you need anything.”

“I know. See you around, Mor.” She offers that every time you see each other, but you already owe her a life debt - you couldn’t possibly ask for more than that. 

Mor was the one who brought you to Velaris all those years ago. She is the only person who knows where you come from, aside from Rhysand and Helion. Mor checks in on you every couple of months, you have never asked her for anything. You’ve considered a proper friendship with the female, but with all she’s done for you - you feel like too much of a burden. Your rejections of her offers to hang out haven’t deterred Mor, who continues to show up and call you by your nickname. Even so, you hate to be a bother. 

You finally decide to head home. Work will still be there in the morning. Stepping outside, you welcome the bitter wind. It allows your thoughts to focus on retaining body heat, rather than your interaction with Mor and the many questions you know she was holding back. 

————

The day of training at the House is here. You had a terrible sleep last night, tossing and turning in anticipation of the session.

It turns out you had nothing to be worried about - both Cassian and Azriel had important business to attend to elsewhere. You couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed when Azriel wasn’t in the training ring. 

You went a little easier on the group today, partially due to your tiredness. 

After class, you hang around to get to know Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie some more. You enjoy all of their company. They share many stories about their lives - how they got started with the training, their Valkyrie research, and how insufferable Nesta and Cassian were before their mating bond snapped.

“Oh Aurora, you had to see it. You could cut the tension with a sword.” Emerie snorts, clutching her stomach. 

Gwyn chimes in, “And it only got worse as it dragged on. Now they are settled we can finally stand to be around them.” 

Nesta simply sticks her tongue out, not really bothered by the comments. 

After plenty of laughs and a few more book recommendations, Gwyn and Emerie leave the House. They both have to get to work. 

Alone with Nesta, she takes you on a tour of the House. You end up in the library with some tea, and a stack of books to take home. You don’t mention that you haven’t been in the mood for them lately.

“So, Aurora, are you seeing anyone?” Nesta asks playfully. 

You try to brush off her question, “No, I’m so busy with work that I don’t really have time for it.” 

“There’s no one that you’re interested in then?” 

Damn, you were hoping to avoid this, you’re a terrible liar but you do trust your new friend. Sighing, you say “I suppose there is someone who caught my eye recently.”

Neither of you noticed that Cassian had crept into the room. “No need to be embarrassed sweetheart, females can’t help themselves around me.” Both you and Nesta whip your heads to the now open door, to see the smirking male leaning against the door frame. 

Your face heats after your admission, but you’re relieved you hadn’t mentioned any names. You try to think of a witty comeback but your mouth refuses to cooperate -  it opens and closes, yet no words come out. 

Nesta saves you from answering, “It’s bold to assume we were talking about you, sweetheart.” She makes a move towards Cassian, and leans in to give her mate a soft kiss in greeting. “You’re early. How was Windhaven?”

Running a hand through his hair, he sighs, “Devlon is still resistant in training the females. Progress in the camps moves at a snails pace.” Turning to you, Cassian asks, “How was training this morning?”

Finally finding your voice, “Everyone is doing really well, very enthusiastic.”

Nesta chimes in, “Except not everyone showed up today.”

The mates exchange a knowing look and you know they are speaking mind to mind. You have seen your parents do the same all your life. 

“Interesting…” Cassian trails off. “Aurora, I’m heading into town, do you need a lift back home?” 

You accept his offer, hoping you’ll eventually get used to the flying.  

————

Azriel

Sitting in the study of the River House, Azriel is expecting to receive an earful. He’d lied to avoid training that morning, he just couldn’t face Aurora yet. He knew he would have to eventually, but he wanted to postpone the awkwardness. She wouldn’t know about the filthy dreams he’d been having about her, but he wasn’t sure he could look her in the eye again. 

Azriel’s thoughts are interrupted as Cassian enters, sitting to the right of the shadowsinger. Mor is in an armchair across from them, Rhys is leaning against his desk while Feyre rocks Nyx in the chair next to Mor.

“Amren is occupied. We still haven’t gotten any news of Bryaxis so she's looking into some tracking spells.” Rhys explains, moving to sit on the arm of Feyre’s chair.

Cassian shudders at the mention of the beast.

“But that’s not why we’re here.” Rhys looks to Azriel, “How’s training?”

Azriel nods, “It’s good.” 

Cassian shakes his head,  “Aurora showed me up. She’s better than good. I’d kill to see her with some weapons training. She’d make a fierce Valkyrie.”

Azriel goes silent, he doesn’t want his mouth to betray him.

The truth is, he’s completely captivated by Aurora. It's obvious how fierce she is, almost as determined as Nesta but still soft, and bubbly... He couldn’t even control his shadows around her. They were drawn to her, which confused Azriel - how could someone so radiant attract such darkness? 

Azriel’s shadows bring his attention back to the room. He’d gotten lost in his thoughts for a moment and hoped it wasn’t too obvious.

Rhys smirked at Azriel, arms folded over his chest. “It’s clear she’s made an impression. I’d like to meet her. Extend an invitation to family dinner next week, we’ll have it here.” 

————

The morning of training comes around agonisingly slow for Azriel. He regretted skipping out on the week before, eager for another glimpse at Aurora. 

He hadn’t risked spying on her in town, his shadows gave him away too easily. 

Azriel enters the training ring early to get in some extra practise before the rest of the group arrives. Exercise always helps him ease his anxiety so he promptly pulls out the punching bag and gets to work. 

————

Aurora

You had asked Feyre to bring you to the House a bit earlier today. You wanted to arrive before everyone else. 

You’re surprised to see Azriel already in the ring, his back to you as he throws punches at a bag. So engrossed watching his wings flaring and the muscles in his back rippling, you don’t notice Feyre had already departed - leaving you alone with the shadowsinger. 

Your attention is captured by a shadow dancing over to you. It looks like it wants to play, so you conjure up a small ball of light and float it around. The shadow stalks the light like a cat, causing you to giggle. 

The sound of your laugh catches Azriel’s attention, your eyes meet and you see amusement flicker across them. 

“They like you.” Your heart skips a beat at the sound of his voice. 

You move your light ball again, slightly faster causing the shadow to chase after it. “I like them, they are cute.”

The corners of Azriel’s lips curl into a small smile. “How did you do that?” He asks softly.

“The light? I don’t know, I’ve always been able to. The magic comes from my Mother’s side. It’s not really much more than a good party trick though.” You make the light float over between you both before you wave your hand and make it disappear.

“Interesting,” Azriel hesitates before asking, “Where is your mother now?”

“She passed away years ago.”

Azriel’s eyes widen in shock. “Oh fuck, Aurora. I’m sorry.” 

Before you can reassure him, you’re interrupted by a boisterous Cassian. “Ready to go hard today, Aurora?” 

You roll your eyes in response, turning to greet the Illyrian. You can’t hold back your snort when you see his outfit. 

“Oh my stars, what are you wearing?” 

Cassian had swapped out his usual training leathers for a plain singlet and extremely fitted pants that show off every inch of him.

“I couldn’t let you have any advantage today. The lady in the shop said these would be easier to move in. You know, so I can get into all the deep positions.”

Nesta scoffs, “Tell the truth. You wanted to distract Aurora so you had more of a chance of beating her.”

“I will not admit to such an outrageous lie.” Cassian’s mischievous smile said otherwise. 

Shaking your head, you avert your eyes and move to the front of the group, you know you’re in for a long morning. 

Part Four

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #azriel x oc #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acomaf #acowar #acotar #acosf #cassian #rhysand #nessian

[theladyofbloodshed]

Chapter 19 - The final chapter! Huge thank you to everybody who has read along with this fic. It's been a joy to write and I appreciate each and every person who has read it. There will be an epilogue coming soon. I hope you enjoy.

‘No.’

Cassian shook his head in disbelief. He made a scoffing noise at the back of his throat.

‘No. Absolutely not. Not fucking happening.’

He started pacing on the roof, head still shaking. His brows raised a couple of times as if talking inside his own head.

‘You love her. She loves you. I don’t understand.’

Azriel wrung his face in his hands. Hearing Cassian say those words was somehow worse. His love hadn’t been enough. He hadn’t been enough.

‘What don’t you fucking understand? All of you have made her feel so bad about herself that she’s leaving this court. She doesn’t want to come back. Whoever went to Nesta today hammered the final nail in the coffin.’ Azriel stood, shaking himself off. He wanted to set fire to Velaris. To destroy it all.

‘Who went?’

Parroting Nesta’s words, Azriel said, ‘Does it matter? You’ve all let her know what a horrible person she is enough times now. Why should she put up with it for me? This was what you wanted.’

His eyes stung from crying. His throat was hoarse. Even if Nesta was leaving, the last thing Azriel wanted now was to play happy families with the people who had broken his relationship apart. He didn’t even want to be in this court. He felt like his head was going to explode.

Cassian sensed his distress. His brother had always been one to lean on. Azriel couldn’t now. Not when it was his fault that all of this was happening.

‘I’m so sorry. Az, I’m sorry.’

The stabbing, Azriel could forgive. He’d provoked his brother, knowing his temper would snap. Wounds healed. He didn’t even remember that pain. This, however, would change Azriel irrevocably. Now he knew what love was – had been given the sweetest taste of it from a female so incredible – he wouldn’t be whole without it.

‘Nesta’s leaving – she’s ended it – because of how we’ve all treated her.’

‘Yes. It is that difficult to comprehend?’

Cassian’s dark brows lowered. The night shadowed most of his face. ‘And that’s it? You two are fine otherwise?’

‘We were perfect,’ he replied, letting out a bitter laugh. How could he forgive his family for this?

‘Let’s go.’

‘What?’

Cassian planted his feet. His wings spread out against the harsh red stone of the House of Wind. ‘To Nesta’s. This isn’t happening. I’m not having this.’

He dived towards him, hauling Azriel off of the roof with him. On instinct, his own wings flapped to right himself in the air, but Cassian was swooping down towards the Sidra. It glittered beneath the street lamps as the water churned.

‘Don’t,’ he yelled. With a struggle, he managed to catch up with Cassian then keep pace. He was flying like a hellion towards the block of apartments on the furthest fringes of the city. ‘She’s made her mind up. I’m not going to beg her.’

‘Well, I will. I’ve got no shame,’ Cassian replied. He gritted his teeth then plummeted downwards, landing with a heavy thump onto the stone.

The general charged up the stairs then knocked on the door with impatience. He rattled the handle.

‘Stop,’ Azriel demanded, pulling him away. ‘You’ll scare her. What are you doing? Leave, Cass.’

‘Where’s the key? Give me the key. That or I’ll knock the door down.’

‘You wouldn’t fucking dare do that in front of me.’

Cassian flashed him a smile but it looked more like a grimace. ‘You wouldn’t risk it.’

Reluctantly, Azriel handed over the key. If anything, it was to stop the noise that would wake the sleeping neighbours. Cassian never did learn how to be quiet.

As the door swung open, he caught sight of Nesta on the edge of her seat in the arm chair. The fire was little more than embers.

In the brief moment that their eyes locked onto each other, Nesta’s tears started up again. Her face was already red and blotchy, her eyes swollen likely from crying since they parted. Azriel couldn’t stand by and see her cry, even if she wanted nothing more to do with him. 

He pushed past Cassian’s big frame and went to her, damning the consequences. He wouldn’t have her upset. Wouldn’t let her go without comfort.

Nesta pressed her face into his chest in a futile attempt to muffle her tears. Azriel turned her so his back was to Cassian. She hated anybody seeing her crying.

His hands came around her body, one hand smoothing the hair that had come loose from her braid. Without instructions, shadows twined themselves up her legs too like cats brushing against them for affection. He couldn’t bear to hear her crying. It was the worst sound he’d ever heard. Her body trembled against his. 

Cassian’s steps came by as he settled himself onto the low-slung couch observing them. 

Azriel readied himself for a battle here that would level the living room. He’d have to be quick to get Nesta to safety - after that, he didn’t care what happened to him.

But Cassian remained simply watching.  

Nesta manage to prise her face from Azriel’s chest to look up at him. He used his thumb to wipe away the tears tracking down her cheeks. She was the best thing he’d ever had in his life. Nobody had ever understood him like her; his moods, his quiet temper, his past. He didn’t want it to end. Didn’t want to say goodbye. Azriel could feel his chest caving in as he looked at Nesta. He kissed her forehead knowing it was the last time he’d be allowed to do it. 

‘It hurts like hell,’ Cassian said, rubbing a hand across his jaw. ‘But seeing that hurt worse. Seeing you cry.’

His hazel eyes flickered between them taking in their embrace, their ease amongst each other. Nesta’s fingers still clutched to his shirt, twisting the soft material around her fingertips. 

‘You’re my mate. Maybe there could have been an us a long time ago if I’d been better to you, done more for you like I should have. But I don’t ever want to be responsible for tears like that, no matter who I am to you.’ His eyes moved to Azriel’s. ‘You’re my brother. How can I not want happiness for you? Worse still, how could I want this pain for both of you?’ 

He stood then and stretched out his arms, feigning a casual mood. 

‘If it’s not me then I’m glad it’s you because you’ll love Nesta like she deserves. And I can see that you are so loved, Az. Don’t let that go – either of you.’

Nesta’s inhale was more of a gasp as she fought through her tears. ‘But I don’t want to drive a wedge between everybody. I don’t want everyone to think I’m just so spiteful that I’m doing this to be horrid. I get the blame for everything. I can’t take it anymore.’

Cassian reached for her hand and she let him have that touch even if it unsettled her. Her own hand was tiny in his. Azriel gripped her tighter, scared he might snatch her away.

‘Nes, how could anybody see you two and think it was from spite? I want your happiness. It’s not with me - and it fucking hurts, I can’t lie. But you deserve somebody like him - and if anybody has a problem with my brother’s happiness then they have to answer to me. I’m so sorry. I cannot ever say sorry enough for all the distress I’ve caused.’ 

He laughed then. A light thing to deflect how difficult this was for him. ‘What kind of prick would I have to be to see you both miserable and feel glad of it? You don’t want me but it doesn’t mean I have to make you both depressed. I’m not that much of a bastard.’

Nesta looked completely dumbstruck. She blinked a few times then tipped forwards against Azriel so her cheek tucked against his neck. Pain bracketed Cassian’s expression to see it, but then he clapped his hands together. 

‘Don’t go to Summer. Stay here. I want you here. Both of you. You’re my brother and I can’t imagine a life without Az. And Nesta, your sisters are here. This is your home. This is our court. We stay together.’

‘We’ll always have to see each other,’ Azriel said, keeping a firm arm around Nesta’s waist to emphasise the point that he was never letting her go again - even if it hurt Cassian, she meant far more. 

‘Then we’ll figure it out,’ Cassian said simply. ‘I’ll bring your things back here. I’ll gather the others and lay down the law. They won’t ever intervene again. I promise. None of them will ever make you feel unwelcome. Please don’t let love go. I’ve had to put up with Az’s moping for five hundred years. If you want that, you have him.’

‘Prick.’

Cassian clapped him on the shoulder, a slow smile edging onto his features. ‘I’m sorry I have been a prick for months. What a fucking bastard I’ve been. You should have been the one to stab me.’

‘It was tempting plenty of times.’

‘I agree,’ Nesta piped up.

Cassian sniffed then his brows raised suddenly. ‘You have a cat.’

Devlon was readying himself to pounce onto Cassian’s laces. His tail lashed from side to side and his body seemed to buzz with energy. 

‘I’ve always wanted one,’ Nesta said. A weak smile flitted onto her face as the cat collided with Cassian’s shoe.

Cassian let out a gasp and clutched his chest in horror. ‘It would never have worked. I’m allergic. I’ll be sneezing for the next week.’

‘A good deterrent to stop you coming here and eating all of our food like you do at Rhys’ house.’ 

They stood quietly for a moment with only the sounds of cat attacking Cassian’s shoes filling the silence. 

Then, surprising both of them, Nesta embraced Cassian.

‘Thank you.’

He swallowed then let out a breath. ‘I don’t ever want either of you crying again. Ever. Whoever says shit to you can deal with me from now on.’

*** 

‘There better be a good fucking reason to be dragging us all out of bed as this time,’ Mor grumbled, tightening her dressing gown around her waist.

Cassian had gathered them all in the living room of the River House. A few lamps had been lit but it was the middle of the night so the rest of Velaris was slumbering. He’d nearly kicked in Rhys’ door when he hadn’t answered – and received a full view of the high lord and lady naked in bed, asleep when he pushed it open instead.  

Elain patted the space beside her for Mor to settle on. There were bloodshot, tired eyes all round, but this couldn’t wait until morning. Cassian needed to fix this mistake now.

‘Who went to Nesta today?’

Feyre let out a long yawn then burrowed closer to Rhys in the chair.

‘Who went to Nesta today?’ Cassian repeated, voice hard and unyielding.

‘Nobody did, why would I want to have her chasing me with silver fire again?’

Cassian sucked in a breath. ‘Because somebody did. And Nesta decided she couldn’t take being treated poorly anymore. She wants to move to the Summer Court.’

‘Azriel would go with her,’ Mor gasped.

‘No. She knows what it would mean for him to leave us so she broke it off.’ Cassian was utterly ashamed of himself that he’d let this carry on for months. There was no hope in hell for him and Nesta. He’d known all along that he’d blown his chance after the war, but the thought of another male loving her better than he could had incensed him. But Azriel? Azriel never gave his heart away easily. He should have known from the start that Azriel would love Nesta like no other. ‘I’ve just had Azriel sobbing on the roof. I never ever want to see either of them crying like that. We drove them apart. Fucking hell, why wouldn’t we want them to be happy? Az has been through enough. Nesta too.’

‘I did tell you that,’ Rhys drawled.

Cassian took in a steadying breath. ‘I want to sever the bond. I love Azriel more. I want my brother to be loved. If you can’t accept my decision on this then kindly fuck off. We’ve put them through hell for no fucking reason.’ Another breath in. Another breath out. ‘I’ll ask one more time. Who went to Nesta today?’

His gaze fell to Mor who made a noise of outrage and tossed off her blanket. ‘It wasn’t me. Why the fuck do you think I’d seek her out?’

‘It was me,’ Amren declared from the doorway.

Mor said things in passion. Elain did what she thought was for the best, Feyre too. There was a callous, ruthless streak in Amren. Cassian dreaded what she might have said to Nesta. They all awaited her words. She folded her arms then exhaled.

‘I merely reminded Nesta that Azriel would follow her wherever she went and what might happen to him if certain courts got their hands on him.’

‘So, you terrified her?’ Feyre asked incredulously. ‘After Cassian had just stabbed him.’

Cassian burned with chagrin at his mistake.

‘I have this court’s best interests at heart. Without Azriel, Illyria will destabilise. We would be severely disadvantaged without our spy master.’

Elain blinked at Amren. ‘But Nesta wouldn’t want to leave Azriel’s side if she worried about his safety.’

‘What else did you say?’ Mor questioned.

‘The only times you have been apart for Starfall were when you were Under the Mountain, Rhysand, and because of Nesta.’

Feyre’s face went white. ‘Tell me you didn’t.’

Amren held firm, arms crossed and jaw set.

‘You compared me to Tamlin when I wouldn’t use my sisters,’ Feyre said, pointing a shaking finger at Amren. ‘Tell me you did not compare my sister to Amarantha. To the female that killed me.’

‘Both succeeded in tearing apart this court. I hoped Nesta would make the right decision and rectify it.’

A sickness settled in Cassian’s gut. What an unbearably cruel thing to say to anybody, least of all Nesta. Amarantha’s cruelty was well known throughout Prythian before she’d ever seized control of it. The things she did could turn even his stomach. And Rhysand had endured fifty years beside her to protect all of them. Rhys had come over pale in shock.

‘Out.’ The voice was quiet but rang with authority. He rose to his feet, magic swarming his hands, the likes of which threatened to devour galaxies. ‘Get out of my court. Don’t come back. Get out before I kill you.’

Mor scrambled to her feet to winnow Amren away; a small pity she could offer.

Feyre wrapped an arm around Rhys, but he pulled free. ‘Go to bed. I need time.’

The hurt was clear on Feyre’s face, but she obeyed her mate. She tugged Elain to her feet and the sisters headed back to bed though Cassian knew that Feyre would force herself to stay awake until Rhys joined her.

Rhys pushed back his black hair, shaking his head in disbelief. He let out a slow laugh. ‘I’ve always been glad for Amren’s savagery. Not when it hurts me though.’

The few details that Rhys had ever let slip about those terrible fifty years were not good. He guarded that time. They didn’t need to know everything he’d done for them. Like him, Rhys would do whatever he could to keep Velaris safe.

‘I can’t believe she compared Nesta to Amarantha,’ he murmured, rubbing his jaw. ‘Fucking despicable behaviour – and all because Az didn’t come to Starfall. He only ever shows up for an hour or two usually anyway.’

If it wasn’t the middle of the night, Cassian might have invited Rhys to go and spar with him. From the expression of the high lord, Cassian knew whatever occurred Under the Mountain still weighed on Rhys and likely would for a long, long time.

‘I never saw Starfall for fifty years.’

Cassian nodded. ‘I know.’

‘No. She knew what it was. Knew what it meant to me. I had to service her all night. Amren really fucking made Nesta feel like she was that bitch?’

It was all made worse with that knowledge. Amren – like him – wasn’t to know that Rhys’ Starfalls had been that way. But it didn’t make her words any better. She had gone to Nesta with one intention and had succeeded.

Rhys shook himself away from those memories. ‘Az and Nesta?’

‘I dumped his stuff back at her doors and locked them in. I think they’ll be alright.’

‘And you?’

‘About as good as you feel right now.’ Cassian poured them both a drink of whiskey. He’d necked his back before Rhys had even raised his glass. ‘We wouldn’t have worked. I know that. But the thought of Nesta being with another male… It hurts and makes me angry still, but it’s Az, Rhys. I can’t imagine anyone who would love a female like he would. I know that Nesta will be loved and he won’t ever hurt her like another male might. You should have seen him on that roof. It was like when he first came to your house. I couldn't see him like that again.’

‘You’re doing a noble thing, Cass. It’s not easy for you. We all deserve to find our happiness.’

Cassian scratched his neck, wings tucking in tight. ‘Just wish I wasn’t such an asshole and nearly ruined it for both of them.’

***

A different side of Cassian had emerged. Azriel refused to talk about what had happened between them when he’d returned to the House of Wind. Nesta wouldn’t pry. Not everything needed to be shared. Nobody had been bruised or bloodied. Nobody had been stabbed either. She’d leave their conversation in the dark. The general insisted that he wanted to have a conversation with the rest of the inner circle to ensure they were all on the same page. It couldn’t have been easy for him to admit defeat. But he had. He had conceded to Azriel. It had been months of pain and sneaking and light stepping but with Cassian’s approval, everything felt better. They no longer felt like an illicit affair. They walked the streets of Velaris easier without a shadow looming over them. 

They vowed to each other that they would not be parted again. The pessure put on Nesta had been to much, but Azriel would help her to carry it. And hopefully, that pressure would never come again.

A dinner had been held on the first good evening of Spring. Not a single person made one derisive comment towards them. Cassian had been cracking jokes endlessly seemingly unbothered by their proximity to him. Out of respect, Nesta and Azriel didn’t put on the same public displays as Feyre and Rhys were fond of doing. It wasn't either of them anyway. They were content with linked fingers in public.

Nobody commented on Amren’s absence except Azriel – from the tight expressions of the others, what she had said to Nesta was known to them. If Azriel knew then Amren would likely be hunted him by him, not just for what those words had done to Nesta but what they had likely done to Feyre and Rhys too. Maybe one day she’d be back, but for now, it seemed that Amren was holed up in the Summer Court with Varian despite her dislike of hot weather.

The dinner was as nice as it could possibly be. Nesta tried as hard as she could to be more than civil with Cassian, exchanging the odd laugh and trying not to argue with him when he made a stupid comment.

Azriel was tense through it all though, on edge that another cruel comment might come their way, but Mor held her tongue throughout. He was reluctant to spend any significant amount of time with his family, still jaded by their behaviour. He did his role still, but socialising was kept to a minimum. Shadows flickered around him during the main course as a sign of his growing anxiety, but they had a brief reprise when Nesta’s nose bled at the dinner table.

‘That’s the second time this week,’ Azriel murmured as he handed her another wad of tissue. He perched on the edge of the bath while she sat on the closed-lidded toilet.

‘You seemed uncomfortable. This was all planned to give you a break.’

Nesta peeled the tissue away but the blood still came.

‘Pinch the bridge harder.’

‘You want to go home?’

It was usually the other way round with Azriel offering Nesta an out. It would take Azriel a long time to forgive them fully – but it was their own mistake that his loyalty had slipped. ‘I can manage another hour.’

‘Ice cream by the Sidra on the way?’

Azriel mussed up her hair. ‘Whatever you want.’

When the day came for the bond to be severed weeks later, nobody tried to talk Nesta out of it. There were no suggestions of Cassian losing his mind or that she was cruel beyond belief. Whatever Cassian had said, made them hold their tongues. It annoyed her that they hadn’t listened to Azriel - or her - but at least they stopped interfering now. 

It was a private affair - and remarkably casual. In the large lounge of the House of Wind, Helion had been welcomed in. The wraiths had laid out a spread of food as if it were a party so Nesta nibbled on a wedge of cheese while the high lord explained the process. Cassian sat on her right, his leg jiggling with anticipation. It was an energy that made her nervous as a result. On her left, Azriel held her free hand. The shadow singer remained as a statue, calming and stoic. 

Whilst the others had wanted to be present, Cassian had said it wasn’t their business and waved them off. They listened. She was thankful for that. It was a kindness that she would not have asked for. 

‘We are certain? I can’t reverse it once I sever it.’ 

Azriel stiffened beside her. He’d never pushed her into this, had let her lead and choose her own path. Nesta was choosing him. She tightened her grip a fraction of an inch on his fingers. There was no other for her. They would never be parted again.

‘Get it over with Helion and I’ll take you to Rita’s tonight. I’ll be your wing male.’

Helion tossed Cassian a charming wink. He had explained to them that he’d have to tease out the bond in order for it to be broken. They remained frozen while Helion spoke to his magic. It curled around them in a faint wisp like a cloud that grow thicker with each passing second then Nesta felt it. A bond tying her to Cassian. There was no doubt now that they were mates. She could feel him on the other end, his sorrow and distress that it was about to break. Nesta could hardly bear it. She gripped Azriel’s hand tighter, needing to reassure herself that this was the right thing. 

And then it was gone. 

A strange coldness washed over Nesta. She groped for that bond that had twined between them, finding it completely absent. Not as if it had never been there, but as if there was a hole in the ground where a tree had been ripped free. A missing tooth in a gum that her tongue still searched for. A scale from a fish that had scraped away. 

From the corner of her eye, Nesta noticed that Cassian looked pale and drawn. Bonds affected males more for a reason that had never been explained. Nesta knew the others would rally around him at least with a wild night at Rita’s planned to soften the blow. He would be well taken care of.

‘Will you give us a moment?’

The suggestion terrified Azriel. It was a protectiveness that Nesta adored because she knew he would do anything to take care of her. She had never had to doubt his loyalty. In Cassian’s presence, she was too afraid to kiss Azriel so, again, she squeezed his fingers in reassurance. 

‘I’ll be outside the room.’ 

Helion departed with him, slinging a bare, muscled arm around Azriel’s shoulder for good measure. 

Nesta held Cassian’s hand. Her own was dwarfed by his. It was rough and calloused.

‘How do you feel?’ 

It was a terrible question, but Nesta didn’t know what to say otherwise. They had never really had a casual conversation. It had always been sweeping gestures of grandeur or barbed and vicious exchanges as they circled the other. There had been no middle ground for them, never a chance to be friends before anything more. 

‘Awful,’ he admitted. 

Nesta swallowed. This was only the beginning. In the library, there were accounts of bonds being severed and the males never did fare well - but their story was different. They would still see each other. Still have to interact. Only time would tell how that would be. 

‘I’m sorry, Cassian.’

‘I lost my chance.’ His hand slid over hers as his other came to cradle it too. They locked around hers like a clam protecting a pearl. ‘I wish you both happiness. I will try to be better for both of you.’ He gave her a pointed look. ‘For all of you.’

There was a long pause where Nesta stopped breathing.

‘Does he know?’

Nesta felt heat crawl up her chest as she shook her head. 

‘I could feel through the bond, Nes. How far along are you?’

‘Nearly two months.’

It was unexpected albeit their own foolish fault. When Azriel had been injured, he hadn’t taken his contraceptive tea. They’d thought nothing of it. Hadn’t realised for days. They just carried on as normal until Nesta had the odd wave of nausea then nosebleeds. She’d sought a healer at Azriel’s insistence who surprised her with the news that she was pregnant. She’d told him it had just been a viral infection, gone in a few days, while she processed it. 

‘Congratulations,’ Cassian said with a gentle nudge in the rib. ‘He will be over the moon. You’re happy?’

‘I am, yes.’

Nesta was uncertain how to move forwards. She’d been intent on leaving to the Summer Court so that his family could have Azriel back and things would be good again for them. If she’d have set up a life in Summer then inevitably discovered she was pregnant, Nesta knew she couldn’t raise a child alone. She’d have sought assistance from a healer.

Now, things had shifted. They were building a future together and a baby - though early - was what Nesta had always wanted. If Azriel didn’t feel the same way then she didn’t know what they would do. 

‘Please don’t tell him.’

‘Lips are sealed, sweetheart. You might want to tell him before he can scent it though.’

‘Urgh. Faeries and your senses. How long do I have?’ 

‘By about ten weeks the babe is usually detected.’ 

Maybe there would still be instincts buried in Cassian that meant he’d want to protect her rather than possess her. Protect her child too. 

The idea of a baby both terrified and delighted Nesta. She’d tried not to think too much about it in case she grew attached and it wasn’t supposed to be. But she had wanted to be a mother for so long. Had dreamed of being the mother she never had for herself. Twenty-four was a perfectly acceptable age to be a mother as a mortal; in fact, her mother would be having kittens over the fact Nesta hadn’t yet wed or become a mother.

‘Will you keep it a secret?’

Cassian nodded earnestly. ‘It’s not my news to share. I promise you, I will be better.’

***

Nesta was subdued following the severance of the bond. Azriel wasn’t sure what he’d expected really, perhaps something visual to signify it truly being broken. For him, he’d seen and felt nothing. At one point, Nesta’s hand had gripped his painfully tight and her face had gone slack then minutes later Helion announced it was done. 

Did she regret it already? Nesta had chosen him over a bond blessed by the Cauldron. All he could offer was his heart though that wasn’t always good or whole. 

Suggestions of visiting the tavern that evening were squashed. Nowhere that he offered did she want to go to – not even to see his mother - so Azriel winnowed into the city to bring back mountains of cake and pastries for Nesta instead. It raised a small smile and she departed the bedroom to join him in the living room. Devlon greeted Nesta with a leap onto her lap, a tail swish in her face, then skittered away after a shadow. 

‘Do you want to talk about what happened at the House of Wind?’

‘No.’

He’d offered her the choice and had to respect it even if his own insecurities were catching fire within. 

‘You’re not hurt or regretting it?’

Regretting me, he wanted to ask. Cassian had an infectious joy, he was better at getting along with others. There was a confidence to him that put other males to shame. He wasn’t like Azriel with his many issues. He could manage a fire without having to bolster himself up to go near it. Cassian didn’t have a constant fear of not being good enough or not doing enough. 

Nesta moved from the chair to him. A thigh came down either side of him as she settled in his lap. Grey eyes searched his face. He felt as if all of his mistakes were under examination. 

‘I love you. Don’t ever doubt that.’

The following day, Azriel took Nesta to the furthest edge of the city. He’d hoped to take her after the bond had been severed, but her mood hadn’t allowed it.

A large white house stood alone amongst the trees. The owner had passed away a few years earlier so the house had sat untouched since.

Azriel showed her the garden first that was slowly coming to life in the Spring. It was overgrown in parts with weeds tangling over the path. The Sidra flowed nearby and a stream broke off from it, running through the garden. He held her hand to lead her over the little, stone bridge and show her the boundary of the garden where fruit trees were.

‘This is ours,’ he said gently.

Her mouth dropped open in surprise.

‘I thought here we could build something for you so you can read your books outside near this stream.’

Azriel led Nesta through the rooms of the house, offering his ideas of what they could do with them. The kitchen had a massive stove so they could cook together and there was space in the back door to cut a flap for Devlon to come and go. He’d enjoy terrorising the birds in the garden too.

Much of the paint needed a new coat and there were a few cracks that needed patching. She followed him up the stairs, smiling at the size of the bath that would fit both of them in comfortably.

‘And this would be our room because it’s the biggest. It looks out over the garden and you can see the mountains in the distance. But there’s a room at the front if you wanted to see the city.’

There was another bedroom that he would reserve for his mother. Azriel was certain that with enough pleading from him and Nesta that she would come to visit.

‘This room,’ he said gesturing to the one beside theirs with a curved window and a seat carved beneath it, ‘Could be a nursery in the future. If you wanted. There’s no rush. Just if, one day, we wanted a baby. The sun filters in during the evening so we could have a rocking chair to read to a baby. It’s next to ours. But I’m not hurrying anything along. I just. I know you’ll be a good mother.’

His words had come out rushed and uneven. It was odd to give them a voice. Azriel had never thought any female would want to settle with someone like him. Now it was a reality. A female who loved him, all of him, even his shadows.

‘You didn’t take your tea when you were injured.’ 

Laughing, he said, ‘Not bleeding out was my priority. It was just a couple of days. I’m back on it so there’s no pressure. I’m not expecting a baby in the next ten years. But one day, I would really like it.’

Nesta had gone pale. He’d thought she would love the house. He had expected an initial reaction of pure excitement that they had a home together. It needed work but that meant they could change it together into the home they wanted. Neither of them had really had a proper home they’d chosen for themselves. 

‘You don’t like it?’

His hope was slipping, crashing back to the earth with speed. 

The crack in Nesta’s voice killed him. ‘I do like it.’

He drew her to him. She was trembling and he couldn’t figure out why. Maybe the house reminded her of the mortal one she had once lived. Why had he purchased it without consulting Nesta first? It wasn’t like him to rush in without thinking. They should have chosen a house together.

‘What’s wrong? I can’t fix it if I don’t know what’s hurting you.’ The fear that always lingered in the back of his mind pushed to the surface. ‘You don’t want me anymore?’

Maybe it was too soon. He knew he could be intense and always wanted more. Maybe he’d scared Nesta with his forwardness and talk of a child. Azriel had never been good at moving slowly. It was everything or nothing.

‘Of course, I do.’ She inhaled deeply, one of her tells that she was anxious. ‘I’m so scared.’

‘Of Cassian? There will be wards and-’

‘No. Azriel.’ Nesta pressed her face into his chest to make a muffled noise of distress. ‘I am pregnant.’

‘Pregnant? With a baby?’

Nesta stared at him with exasperation. ‘What else?’

It took him a moment to process it. His dreams of a child arrived far quicker than he’d imagined. Nesta waited nervously, her hands wringing together in front of her. The faded yellow paint on the wall turned golden in the sunset. They wouldn’t put the crib there. It would need to be on the opposite wall. Girl or boy, it didn’t matter. He found himself liking the yellow paint because it reminded him of sunshine. He thought of all the shells that Nesta had collected in Summer and imagined them around the window frame.

‘Azriel?’

He snapped back to reality. The biggest smile he’d ever worn cracked onto his face. ‘We’re having a baby.’

Reverently, his scarred hand brushed against Nesta’s abdomen. It was flat with no sign of any bump likely to come for a few months, but he was already imagining it. Love swelled within his chest. He had made mistakes. Done things he regretted. But this, this he would do right. Azriel would be the best father he possibly could – the best partner to Nesta.

‘You want this? You’re sure?’

‘I want you most of all.’ Azriel made a noise of pure joy as he lifted Nesta into the air and span her around in the room. His mother would definitely make the trip to Velaris. ‘We’re having a baby,’ he repeated.

Nesta’s smile was real and relieved. His hand stroked against her stomach again. Once without protection would have been incredible luck, but the night after he’d been stabbed, they’d made love over and over brought together by near tragedy. Perhaps it was meant to be. Either way, Azriel didn’t care. His joy could never be tamped down. He had waited a long time for love and found it with the most unexpected person. Azriel and the love of his life would have their golden sky, with their child too.

@misteryhen @wannawriteyouabook @rarephloxes @loysydark @theleafpile @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens

I've griped in the past at how quickly feysand had a baby, but I feel like Nesta always expected to be a mother and a wife quite young and would still want that despite no longer being mortal. I also imagine that Azriel is terrified by fatherhood but it will help him to realise that he is loved and valued. Both of them had poor relationships with their parental figure so will love a baby in the way they were denied. (it's also fan fiction so i love mama nesta). I hope you enjoyed and as I said, an epilogue is coming soon!

#nesta vs the buffer #nezriel

[popjunkie42]

Books and Wings

It’s not like I have the next chapter of a fic due, or a million works in progress. So I couldn’t help but write this little bit of fluffy feel good-ness with Feyre and Nesta that popped into my head.

I just reread the end of ACOSF and then spent all day ignoring work and binging @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk‘s absolutely incredible Begged and Borrowed Time and decided I wanted to write something cute about the Archeron sisters.

Books and Wings on AO3

Summary: Feyre surprises Nesta in the House of Wind library to borrow a book. The sisters explore their new, healing relationship. 

Snippet:

The harsh click of the doorknob was the only warning for the entangled couple that they were no longer alone in the library.

“Oh,” Feyre said, freezing with her hand on the handle, a full wine glass sloshing in her other hand.

Cassian and Nesta were likewise frozen. In a split second, one that assured the High Lady that at least the two were still clothed, Cassian spread his wings to shield them.

“Sorry,” she stuttered. “I was just…coming to get a book.”

Cassian finally let down the wings, the two of them turning to her, Nesta straightening the skirt of her flowing dress and combing fingers through her hair.

“I can come back later,” Feyre said.

Perhaps, she thought with a drop of her stomach, she was not yet used to the House of Wind belonging to her sister and mate. Ever since the events of the last few weeks, Feyre had worked hard to soften the High Lady approach as she held onto the new tender happiness of her sister. Barging into rooms in their house like she owned them was probably not doing her any favors.

“It’s all right,” Nesta said with a bit of a sigh. Turning to Cassian she said, “Aren’t you supposed to be having some important strategy talk with Az?”

“It wasn’t that important,” Cassian countered, taking a deep calming breath. Nesta ran a finger down the outside of his wing, forcing a shudder from her mate as she stepped further out of his embrace.

Feyre stepped back into the hallway, biting the inside of her cheek as she let the two disentangle themselves. She heard Cassian’s low whisper and sound of his lips on Nesta’s cheek as he strode out of the room.

She looked up at him sheepishly, unable to hide her grin.

“I’m going to put a bell on you,” he said, pausing at the doorway to flick her nose.

“I’d like to see you try,” she said, batting her eyelashes.

Turning away from the General stalking down the hall, Feyre peeked her head back into the doorway nervously at her sister.

“I could have left, you know.” She said.

“Let him miss me. It will be good for him.” Nesta replied. There was no bite in her voice but her face was the usual hard expression she always wore. She waved Feyre into the room with an elegant sweep of her arm. Sometimes Feyre forgot that her sister had been trained to be a lady, a hostess, a Queen of society since birth.

She hid her smirk at the memory that hit her of Rhys making an identical gesture to the Palace Governor’s at their last dinner. Her mate and her sister may have crashed themselves into a new and more peaceful relationship, but Feyre would keep her observations of their many, many similarities for another time.

The sisters sat in silence for a moment as Feyre curled up on one of the large armchairs, Nesta waiting, host-like, to sit until after she had settled.  

It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but it was a tentative one.

Now that Nyx was a few weeks old, and surrounded by a flurry of attentive nurses and household staff, they had slowly resumed family dinners. As hard as it was sometimes to leave her son, even for a few hours, Feyre reveled in the loud and joyful meals. Over wine and food, she sometimes sat back and simply watched, feeling her heart expand in her chest to the point of pain. The meetings were both a celebration and a healing, and much needed after so much fear and tragedy that had almost come to pass.

The High Lady watched Nesta’s icy exterior melt under the attentions of her new mate. Listened to the conversations between Nesta and Rhys, polite but surrounded with small kind smiles instead of ire. Saw the unbridled joy in Cassian as he sat beside his mate, overflowing the room with love for his whole family, now complete. And she smiled at Elain who, still healing, had nonetheless planted her feet fully in the soil and found her way further and further into her new family at the Night Court.

Feyre hadn’t realized that this is what she always wanted. That this was even possible . Oh, she knew early in her life that her family was cold, lacking. Watched how other families at her mother’s lavish balls would cling together, dancing and sharing jokes and games like they actually enjoyed each other’s company. When she had found Rhys, found her new family, she thought that this was it: if your own family failed, then family could be the people you choose.

But now, to also have her sisters here…to see Nesta thaw bit by bit, glowing with confidence and love. To watch proper Elain blushing but smiling slyly at the latest vulgarity hurled across the table. To actually have the chance to love them, to build a relationship with them after all the struggles…

Though the moniker had often been draped around her unwillingly, sitting at the table with her family she sometimes couldn’t help but think: Cauldron-blessed .

And now she had her own family, a chance to correct so many wrongs from her own upbringing. When she couldn’t sleep, Feyre would wander into Nyx’s nursery quietly and stand and watch him sleep, memorizing the red blush on his fat cheeks, watching the gentle twitches of his tiny wings as he breathed softly. More often than not she would eventually find Rhys watching her from the doorway, his face full of love, and look down and find herself glowing.

It helped that she could share her joy, her love, and all her fears with her mate. After her body had healed, their renewed lovemaking was a gentle, trembling thing, often ending with the two of them in each other’s arms with unbridled tears running down their cheeks, equal parts thankful and fearful of what they had almost lost.

Once, Feyre had laughed out loud at a memory: of her in a reeking cell, spitting on his face, wanting to claw out his eyes at his cruel sneer and endless taunts. She wanted to go back and shake them both. Do you know what is coming?  She would ask. Do you know what you could have?

The idiots.

Still feeling light with joy from dinner, and not a little bit of wine, Feyre looked back at her sister.

“You wanted a book?” Nesta asked.

She nodded. “I asked Rhys to recommend something last night. He gave me this two-thousand year old philosophy book written by someone named ‘Orion the Mad.’ I think his theories were about how magic came from an undiscovered race of tiny gnomes that lived at the center of the planet.” She smiled as she swirled her wine. “I thought I might ask you instead.”

Nesta clicked her tongue, regarding her sister for a moment. “I don’t know if you’ll particularly like my books.”

“As long as there aren’t madmen or astronomical equations, I’m willing to give it a shot.”

Feyre once again found herself locked under the hard stare of her elder sister.

After a moment, Nesta made her decision. She rose from the couch and scanned the bookshelf, plucking a small, worn, leather-bound book from in front of her. She cooly flipped through the pages, skimming the words quickly until she found what she was looking for and held open a page to Feyre with a flourish.

Feyre took a deep sip of her wine and tore her eyes away from the impressive figure of her sister and began to read.

Her eyebrows shot up.

“Oh,” she said for the second time tonight.

And then she giggled.

It was an unbidden, child-like sound that made Nesta’s eyes go wide.

She racked her own memory as far back as she could, back to Feyre as a child. Surely sometime in all their lives Feyre had been, for a moment, a carefree, laughing child, filled with joy.

But she came up empty.

Nesta, as well, had begun reflecting on the many new faces of Feyre she had seen in these months of their new lives together. Sometimes she too would watch Feyre at dinner, laughing and happy and in love with her family, and feel her heart ache. Sometimes, she wondered if it had taken a full twenty-one years for her to truly see her sister for everything that she was.

For the Feyre before her was almost a mystery compared to all their memories below the wall. She remembered the stubborn, sullen child, her face locked in a toddler’s too-serious scowl, always battling a war with their mother she would never win. Or the sister, her face tired and haggard, quietly and slowly eating some watered-down version of stew at the dining table, savoring each bite to make it last. On the hard nights, she would only break her silence to stomp over any foolish plans or hopes they discussed for the future, bearing down on them with the cynical weight of reality. When Nesta couldn’t take her youngest’s tired commands any more, she would snag at the fiery temper she knew was always under the surface. She knew the sharpest and quickest ways to work Feyre into a fury, into a stuttering rage, as only a sister could.

Only weeks ago, these new facets of Feyre could be enough to send Nesta spiraling into her own cold rage. Once freed from their family, it seemed that Feyre had only transformed into something new. Something powerful. The High Lady, the ruler, the woman in love, the mother, the powerful fae who ran headlong into battle with a sword on her back.

Nesta knew deep down the anger was towards herself. That Feyre had needed to escape them and her endless, tireless care for them to become this new version of herself. Maybe her true self. And what did that say about their family?

But now, there was tentative peace between them, and Nesta was trying. Trying to love Feyre’s happiness as she grew her own within her heart. Trying to see how their joy need not be a competition, but instead something that could blend and multiply between them. A gift of their new lives together.

Feyre was still absorbed in the book, the light blush on her cheeks slowly traveling down her pale neck.

“Are you drunk?” Nesta asked.

Blue-grey eyes shot to her, almost guilty.

“I haven’t had a drink in months. My tolerance isn’t what it was. And Mor sat next to me at dinner,” she explained.

Nesta snorted.

But something in her chest warmed. This was a new face of Feyre too. Goofy. Silly. Young.

Her youngest sister. Her sister. Who she could take care of.

Who she could love.

Her blushing, slightly glassy-eyed sister now looked from the book and back up to Nesta, her lips twitching. She downed the rest of her wine and put down the glass.

“Have you found all the best parts of the wings yet?” Feyre asked.

Nesta’s eyebrows shot up.

But Feyre, emboldened by the wine or the book or both, forged ahead.

She tented her hands into a triangle, an approximation of the apex of Illyrian wings. And then wiggled her pointer finger under the crest.

“Inside, at the top, just where the bone meets the membrane,” she said, conspiratorially. “He’ll be on his knees for days.”

Read the rest on AO3

#acotar #acosf #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #feysand #nessian #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction

[niceminipotato]

I have the last instalment of my little PRIDE fic thing I was doing for June. And yes I know it's been July for more than a week but we queer every day so it's whatever. Anyway in this one we have my own ship from the ACOTAR series from Sarah J Maas. It's for Nesta and Morrigan. Yes I know they both have people, well at least Nesta does. I love Emerie and Morrigan so don't come at me. Still though, I like Mor and Nesta and I really don't like how they have barely any interactions but that's ok I made some here hehe. Enjoy and don't hate too much k. ;)

PRIDE - Effortless

The House of Wind felt different. Ever since a certain Made being had taken residence in it. For some reason it felt alive. It had before, but now it was as if it was a sentient being. It was curious that in all the time spent in the house it had never felt this way until now. 

Curtains were drawn in the study letting natural light in. The veritas sat atop the desk waiting to draw her memories and play them back to Nesta. To teach her dances of the Night Court so that she may use her charms on Eris. 

At least that was what Rhysand had said. She had accepted of course. She would do anything to aid her cousin, her High Lord. Yet Morrigan loathed the fact that she would be throwing the newly Made female to the lions. It irked her that she had been tasked with giving Nesta the tools which could very well place a target on her back. 

Morrigan had always kept her distance from Nesta. 

At first it had to do with the fact that she, like everyone else, blamed her for letting a child like Feyre be the one to protect them when she was entirely able to do it herself. After getting to know them though, her opinion of the eldest Archeron sister changed. It was still not right for Nesta to put the burden solely on Feyre as she had done for so many years but she could understand why Nesta had allowed it. 

Some time later, when a human Nesta went into the cauldron and emerged a High Fae the reason to keep her distance shifted. Morrigan could tell Nesta hated everything about the change. The new fae kept everyone but her younger sister at arms length. She wanted nothing to do with them or their court and did her best to create a barrier around herself and her sister. Thus Morrigan had stayed away and only watched her from afar. 

Now, the reasons for the distance were something different altogether. There was the fact that even though she was well aware there was nothing she could have done, Nesta’s father had perished right under their noses. She knew the female did not blame any of them and neither did the rest of the Archeron sisters but there was always a tiny irrational part of herself that told her she should have been able to save him. 

And then there was the reason she kept buried deep within herself. The reason why she kept as far away from her as she possibly could. The reason that kept her from helping Nesta even knowing how broken she was. 

At some point in those short months stuck watching over Elaine and Nesta before Feyre had returned, something inside of her changed. The one thing she thought she would never feel. Something so deep it felt painful to hide. Something she could not allow. Especially after confirming with her own eyes that her best friend and Nesta were destined to be. 

Nesta and Cassian were mates. Their bond was unbreakable, sacred. And Morrigan could not, would not, get in the way of something like that. She had no right. Helping Nesta heal fell to Cassian not her. Even it felt like dying to look within her grey eyes. Even though Nesta’s pain shined through in a way that made it hard to breathe Morrigan had to stay away. Who could stand in the way of such a bond.

“You’re here.”

Morrigan took a deep breath before turning to the door, where Nesta now stood. “I’m here.”

Nesta nodded and walked in, her steps toward her felt hesitant, almost strained, but Morrigan did not comment on them. She took the veritas in her hands and moved closer to the other female. The orb of truth was cool to the touch but it was the magic within she could feel throbbing at her fingertips.

“This is the veritas. You’ve seen it before. It’s imbued with truth magic. I shall be using it to show you the dances. If you have any questions ask.” She kept her words short and to the point in order to draw a clear line between them. 

Wordlessly, Nesta came closer, her grey eyes drawn to the orb. Music filled the air as her memories played in the veritas. The Night Court came into view after a second. The ballroom was full of High Fae and a waltz was playing. Nesta watched the scene unfold silently, her eyes glinting in wonder. 

Morrigan had never witnessed that before, the look on her face sent her heart into a gallop. Before long the scene shifted to another then another. Those grey eyes were glued to the orb in her hands and Morrigan thanked the mother for it. 

As time went on she could feel Nesta coming closer in an attempt to get a better view and for once Morrigan allowed herself to enjoy their proximity. Nesta’s scent flowed to her, tickling her nose and it was then that the atmosphere changed. 

Suddenly the veritas glowed and went dark, taking away the music and the dance. Nesta threw her a questioning glance and Morrigan only shrugged, halting any hateful words which may come out. She put the veritas down and took a few steps away doing her best to clear the scent of her nose. Not because it was Nesta’s, no. But because mixed with that sweet scent was Cassian’s. 

“Something the matter?” Nesta asked. 

“No. But you’ll need to change out of those training leathers if you want to practice. Go bathe and put on a simple dress. I can wait.”

“Bathe?” Nesta looked at her as if she had somehow grown a second head. “I suppose I can do that. I’ll be back soon.”

“Right.” 

As soon as Nesta left the room Morrigan released a deep breath. The scents lingered in her nose making her twitch slightly. With a defeated sigh she made her way towards the window sill and sat quietly. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts she could not control. 

Nesta and Cassian under the same roof and practically alone. Of course things would progress that way between mates, even those who did not acknowledge it to anyone else. It had taken them long enough, had it not? 

A strange presence brought her out of her thoughts. It did not feel threatening in any way but it was there. Glancing behind her she noticed a small table atop which a small bowl full of roasted coffee beans sat. 

Morrigan stared at the bowl in confusion. It had not been there before and she had not requested it yet it was there. The longer she looked at it the more confused she became. Why coffee beans? 

When the rich scent reached her slightly chasing away Nesta and Cassian it clicked. Aware she would more than likely sound crazy she spoke to the house as if it were a person. 

“Is this to help clear the smell?”

The fireplace sparked to life for a moment before going back out. 

“I’m assuming that was a yes?” 

At her question the fire flared then extinguished again. 

“So you truly are alive. That is… pretty amazing.” Morrigan found herself smiling before taking a coffee bean and bringing it close to her nose. “Thanks.” Her voice came out softly.

In response she felt one of the curtains draping softly over her shoulder. Morrigan gasped softly wondering if the house, this being she never noticed, understood why she was grateful. The curtains shifted slightly as if they were trying to comfort her. In all her years she had never experienced this but rather than question it she embraced it.

“How complicated are we, huh?” She chuckled bitterly and the house responded through the fireplace just as before. “What can we do? The heart does as it wishes. You wouldn’t understand that. Would you?” She expected the fire but only silence greeted her. “I did not mean to offend. Sorry.” The curtain shifted and she smiled. “Would you happen to know of a way that could help with the scent as we work together?” In an instant another bowl of beans appeared, making her laugh. “Sticking those in my nose would not be very subtle.”

Both bowls disappeared and she sighed as she thought she would have the steel herself in order to deal with the mixed scents. She could do it. She was The Morrigan. She could do anything. 

“This will not be good.”

As she rubbed at her temples a new smell began to permeate the area. Vanilla mixed with mint and wood wafted around her. She thanked the Mother and their ancestors for creating a place such as this.

“Thank you.” She breathed out reverently.

The curtain shifted on her shoulder before dropping altogether just as the door to the study swung open. Nesta walked in wearing a simple long purple dress. Where her golden brown hair had been almost coming out of her braided crown now it sat perfectly within the confines of the braid. Her grey eyes searched the study before finally landing on her.

“Would this work?” 

The other female sounded a bit annoyed and Morrigan did her best not to grin, “works great. Shall we?” She offered her hand to Nesta while waving the other towards the veritas.

Reluctantly Nesta took her hand just before a waltz began to play. Together they moved through the cadences of the music. Morrigan was surprised at how the other female had completely memorized the dance from just one or two runs. She had heard from the Archeron sisters, mainly Elaine, that Nesta was an artist when it came to dancing. Truthfully, if Morrigan were not experiencing this she would not have believed it.

They continued on for another couple of hours, stopping on the few rare occasions where Nesta needed more instruction. By the end of their lesson Morrigan was well spent, not because of the dancing-never because of the dancing-but because being this close, actually touching Nesta was driving her insane. She had not missed the way Nesta let a few smiles into her face as she got lost in the music. At those moments Morrigan had done her best to not react and ignore the other female in her arms.

“Same time tomorrow?” Nesta asked before making her way out and at Morrigan’s nod she left.

Once she was gone Morrigan went back to sit at the windowsill. Elbows on her knees while cradling her face she let out a groan. A gentle thud had her raising her head and she let out another groan when she found a new bowl of coffee beans.

“Hilarious.” She rolled her eyes and she had no idea why but she felt as though she could hear the teasing giggling from the house. “This is going to be a nightmare. Please make sure to mask the scent tomorrow and every day after.” 

“Talking to yourself now?”

She almost jumped out of her skin at her friend’s voice. “By the cauldron, Az! What are you even doing here?” 

“I am your ride remember?” He chuckled. “Unless you changed your mind and would rather stay.”

“No. Fly me high enough that I can winnow.” 

“Why do you want to teleport when I can fly you wherever you need?” He sounded offended by the mere request.

At his tone she groaned internally. “Please just fly me past the wards.”

“Fine.”

“Az-” She began but he interrupted.

“I’ll be at the terrace when you’re ready.” 

He replied coldly and though she wanted to be a friend she also needed him to understand that a friend was all she wanted and needed from him. Letting out a defeated sigh she rose and looked back down at the coffee beans then rolled her eyes.

“So very funny. See you tomorrow.”

The fire bloomed to life for an instant and the curtains fluttered so she waved at nothing in particular before stepping out of the study.

***

Days of dance lessons turned into weeks and Morrigan felt proud of herself for making it thus far. The House of Wind had been very nice to her, always trying to mask the intermingled scents of Nesta and Cassian with a different variation of smells. She was certain without its help all the time spent beside the other female for their lessons would have been a living nightmare. Oh, she was tremendously grateful.

Nesta had been a stupendous student, learning every dance that came her way. Morrigan had told everyone as much. The Archeron sisters had been happy with that while everyone else still seemed skeptical. She had expected that though, since she herself had been the same way. But then she supposed once they saw it then they would understand what she meant.

In all the time spent in lessons no one had attempted to spy on them, not Azriel and thankfully not Cassian. She knew having either of them present would be a distraction in one way or another. Cassian had however asked her to teach him a few dances. Morrigan was well aware of the reason and though she felt guilty she used her teasing as a way to deter him. Watching him leave muttering to himself had her releasing a breath she had not known she was holding. 

Guilt gnawed at her for days, after she had refused to help him. But the thought of aiding in their closeness would more than likely break her. Thus she swallowed her guilt and continued to enjoy the last few days she had left dancing away with Nesta. 

The time spent together had been strange. It was true they did not speak much. Then again what was there to say when the music and their bodies did the speaking. One too many times Nesta had stolen her breath as she smiled and closed her eyes letting the music take care of them. Each time they danced it was as though the female was set free, her steps precise yet flowing together in harmony. 

***

Time flew and the day of Winter Solstice arrived and it came down to her to prepare Nesta. It was painful to do. She had to think of Eris and what would most appeal to him. Nesta had requested she at least wore something less revealing than what Feyre and Morrigan herself would wear. The request did help her slightly. 

Once she finished fixing every little detail and she took a step back to admire her work she felt the wind leave her. Nesta looked breathtakingly beautiful. The black gown accentuated her curves, silver embroidered patterns dotted around the snuggly velvet bodice as its flowy skirts swooshed the floor. Golden brown hair sat braided around her head as if it were a crown and above it a glimmering black stone tiara rested with small sapphires at its spikes. 

“Can I see now?” Nesta asked, wringing her fingers as if she were nervous. A rather uncharacteristic thing coming from her. 

“Uh-yes. Yes, of course.” Morrigan cleared her throat, trying mightily to calm her heartbeat. “A mirror please.” 

At her request one appeared and Nesta took a step towards it so that she could finally see. A gasp came from her but nothing else. The female only admired herself in the mirror without uttering a word. Morrigan wrung her fingers as now it was her who felt nervous.

“Do you like it?” She asked tentatively.

Running her hands down her sides, Nesta let out a tiny smile, “like it? I look… I look like…” Her voice died out as she tried to figure out how to describe it.

“Like the Queen of Night.” Morrigan supplied at which Nesta turned to face her. “I think it fitting.”

“Also like death incarnate.” Nesta chuckled to which she hummed.

“Night. Death. Powerful. Stunning. You are all of those things and that is more than ok.”

At her words that silver flame swirled in Nesta’s eyes, making Morrigan gasp slightly. The female flinched and looked away as if trying to calm her dark magic. As Morrigan saw the fear of rejection take over Nesta she took a step forward. 

Slowly and carefully Morrigan reached out as if the female were some spooked creature ready to bolt at an instant. Nesta tensed slightly when she reached under her chin so that she could raise her head.

“Your magic does not scare me. I respect it. However, that is not why I reacted the way I did.” 

The magic swirling Nesta’s eyes calmed and went out leaving only her natural sparkly grey behind while the rigidness on her shoulders ebbed away, “then?”

Morrigan cursed at herself for even saying anything in the first place but she had to continue. She just could not bring herself to leave Nesta like that. While it was true that she would rather keep her distance from her, watching that sliver of hope in grey eyes vanish was not something she could do.

“Your darkness doesn’t scare me. People like to forget I am a child of The Court of Nightmares and though I am also a dreamer it doesn’t mean I don’t share in the dark.” She smiled. “We all have that Nesta. No one is exempt. That spark of magic you hide may not be light but it is beautiful.”

Nesta swallowed, her eyes fixed on her watching her intently before tearing her gaze away and whispering softly. “Thank you.”

They stood in silence a while longer, Morrigan still holding her chin up and Nesta seemingly enjoying the touch, until there was a knock on the door. As if burned they jumped away from each other and turned towards the door as it opened. Morrigan hoped their awkwardness was not as palpable to others as it was to her. 

Feyre poked her head through and smiled as she admired her sister. The High Lady of the Night Court looked as beautiful as ever, her baby bump noticeable at last. Tonight’s celebration would serve as the perfect excuse to finally announce to the world the baby on the way. 

“You look beautiful, Nesta.” Feyre smiled brightly while Nesta let a small smile onto her face. 

“Thank you. I have to go check something first. See you at the terrace.” 

With that the oldest Archeron sister left, not even a glance back to her. Morrigan was unsure as to what had just occurred between them but she was well aware that the same could not happen again.

“You two make a good pair.” Feyre sent her a knowing smirk.

Morrigan snapped her attention back to her High Lady, “what are you talking about?”

“Oh you know perfectly well what I’m talking about. You may be ancient but you’re not as subtle as you think.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Ok. Then let me be clear.” Feyre chuckled. “You and my sister would make a wonderful couple.”

Morrigan felt the wind leave her sails as she trembled before Feyre. For a moment fear clouded her thoughts. She tried uselessly to find a hint of disapproval or repulsion on her High Lady’s expression but there was nothing.

“Mor, it’s ok.” Her voice was soft and gentle.

Surprised, Morrigan looked at Feyre and shook her head. “How would any of this be ok?”

“You and Nes-”

“Stop. Have you any idea what you are implying? Do you understand that-”

“I understand that you have feelings for my sister. Feelings that go farther and run deeper than any bond.” Feyre walked closer and brushed away the tears Morrigan had not known she was shedding. “Why are you denying them?”

“Enough.” Morrigan pulled away, clearing her face of errant tears and turning away from her High Lady. “Cassian has gone through too much. Entirely too much has been taken away from him. I refuse to take any more.”

“Shouldn’t Nesta have a say on this decision?”

“She has also suffered through enough I will not be the cause of any more suffering. Besides she and Cassian, they-”

“You know, I thought we’d have so much trouble with the glamour to mask the scents.” Feyre’s words made her turn back around while pain singed every part of her. 

“I did not think you would be this cruel.”

“It was no trouble, actually. We thought his scent would linger but it looks like she hasn’t been with him. She’s been abstinent ever since you started your lessons. Why do you think that is?” Feyre tilted her head with her question.

A spark of hope ignited within Morrigan but just as quickly it died out. She could not allow herself to hope. She could not allow herself to wish. Allowing herself to believe that maybe something could come of this was a sure way to break herself. 

“Again. I did not think you would be this cruel.”

“Mor-”

“Please, stop. I do not require a matchmaker, Feyre. Especially not one that wants to lead me to pain.”

“I’m not trying-”

“You are!” Morrigan exclaimed and watched a flash of hurt and guilt pass through her friend and High Lady’s eyes. “I know you mean well. But please, no more.”

“I’m sorry, Mor.” Feyre fiddled with her fingers before coming closer. “Can I just say one more thing?”

“You will either way.” Morrigan let out a sigh. “Go on.”

“We are human.” Feyre began and Morrigan only watched her confusedly, making her chuckle. “Well, we are fae but we began as humans. We think as humans. We behave as humans. We feel as human. In my case the pull I feel to Rhys is only intensified by what my human heart feels for him. Our bond is there and it's true but had he not won my heart I don’t think it would be as it is now.” She allowed the words to sink in before continuing on. “I’m not saying Cass can’t do that too but to me it looks like Nesta’s heart hasn’t and won’t be won by him.”

“You talk as if this were a competition. Nesta is not some prize to be won.”

“It was just an analogy. Still you're right. She’s not some trophy to be won. She’s a person with a complicated heart and feelings. And I can say all I want about who I think is better with her but it’s Nesta who will choose in the end.” Feyre smiled. “Anyway, I’m sorry for making you hurt. I just want you to be happy, Mor, and if my sister does that then I want you to know I’m happy with it.”

“What about our friend? Cassian is important.”

“He is and so are you. You are both my friends and I will be there for the both of you.” Feyre rubbed her arm before linking it with hers. “Let’s go. Rhys is calling.”

Morrigan looked at her with a frown. Usually if Rhysand sent a message to her mind she would hear him as clearly as if he were next to her. “I must have missed him.”

Feyre chuckled. “Oh he tried, but your mental shield is pretty dense right now. We would need to force our way through.”

“Oh, I-”

“It’s fine. I know what you’re guarding in there. But enough of that. Let’s go before he comes on a hunt.”

***

Enchanting. Ethereal. Enthralling. 

Morrigan stood frozen to the spot as she watched Nesta dance. She had heard that the Illyrians referred to her as a witch and watching her now, Morrigan was inclined to agree with them. The eldest Archeron sister had enraptured the entirety of the Court of Nightmares. Chatter had died out and only the music remained while all eyes were on the dancing high fae. Nesta was a witch and she had bewitched them all. Ensnared them with her movements and seized their every thought.

Eris looked ecstatic and Morrigan wanted nothing more than to drag the son of autumn through the pits of hell. Nesta was doing a wonderful job of wrapping him around her little finger. Despite knowing it was just for show, the smiles and coy glances made her blood boil. 

“Control yourself, girl.”

Morrigan’s gaze snapped away from the dancing pair and focused on the short female beside her, “I did not expect you to come, Amren.”

“Neither did I. I was only-”

“Worried about your protege and friend.” Morrigan cut her with a smirk.

“Silence.” Amren glared at her and Morrigan could not help but chuckle at the female’s inability to accept her feelings. “As I was saying, you need to control that ire. It is seeping through the fake smile.”

“I have no idea what-”

“Save us both the time and just accept it.” Amren threw her an exasperated glance. “At first I thought it was just the natural disdain for that waste of space from autumn. However it seems to me it is not only the past anger that is consuming you but the fact that the autumn thrash is dancing with her.”

“Quiet.” Morrigan glared at her.

“The bat boys may not see it but I see it clear as day, girl.” Amren shrugged then focused back on the dancing pair. “The Queen of Death and the Queen of Truth together would rip the world from its hinges.” The short female looked back at her and grinned devilishly. “I think I would enjoy the chaos such a union would bring. See you later.”

“A-are you not staying?” Morrigan stuttered and crossed her arms across her chest.

“I grow bored of this place. She is an amazing dancer but I have had enough of watching. Besides, she is rather well protected.” 

With that the tiny ancient one disappeared, leaving Morrigan alone with her thoughts. She turned her attention back to Nesta and Eris and noticed how Azriel was trying his best to control Cassian. Morrigan could not decide if his jealousy stemmed from love or the territorialism that came with the mate bond. She knew where her jealousy and anger stemmed from and she hated that it came from that. Feyre and Amren’s words ringed in her ears as she watched Nesta but she knew even with their words of encouragement she could do nothing but distance herself once more. It was in the shadows and she belonged. She was meant to reside only in the outskirts of Nesta’s life. 

A servant walked by and she snatched a cocktail, downing it almost immediately, before tearing her gaze away from the female she had recklessly allowed herself to love.

***

Morrigan found herself alone in the balcony of the River House gazing up at the stars. She would never tire of this view. In all of her travels she had never found such a beautiful sight. Then again, this was the Night Court and as such the nights full of twinkly stars and shining moon were meant to be breathtaking.

The gift exchange had gone as predicted and everyone seemed so happy. Laughter and music spilled from the open door and though Winter Solstice was her favorite time of year she could not exactly join in the festivities. Her thoughts were flooded by just one person and that person sat next to her best friend with a soft smile.

It pained her to feel the way she felt. She hated the jealousy that crawled over her skin and heated her blood. It was not fair to anyone much less them. But watching them together hurt too much and made her so angry. She had kept her distance for so long but a mere few weeks undid the lock she had placed on her feelings long ago. 

Why? Why must she feel all of this? Was this truly what she was destined to? A life of solitude. Always standing outside and looking in. Getting a glimpse of what she could have but never would.

“Aren’t you cold out here?”

A gasp escaped her and she flinched at the voice, her voice. Turning back towards the door she found herself staring into those grey eyes. The beautiful dress and equally stunning tiara were long gone despite this Nesta still looked like a queen. Her dress was simple yet elegant. Its soft silk was deep night sky blue, the collar sat just below her collarbone and its long sleeves hugged her arms tightly with tiny diamonds framing the end of the sleeves. 

“I was looking for you. Is this a bad time?” Nesta asked, carefully watching her every movement.

Morrigan swallowed all her pain and smiled. “Not at all. What can I do for you?” 

“I wasn’t able to get anyone a gift. I don’t exactly have money just yet but-”

“Nesta, you need not give me or anyone any gifts. I am happy you are here. Your sisters have a different light about them tonight. I know for certain it is thanks to you.” Morrigan grinned. “I think your presence is a gift enough for them.”

“Cassian said something like that.”

At the mention of the male Morrigan was once more swallowing down her pain and softly began, “he is right. Do not tell him I said that.” 

“I won’t.” Nesta chuckled lightly before biting her bottom lip. “I heard you are leaving.”

Morrigan noted a hint of sadness at her tone but decided to ignore it. “That is correct. As the envoy of the Night Court, I need to bolster our relations as well as get allies for these coming battles.” Nesta said something but her voice was so soft that Morrigan had a hard time hearing her. “Pardon?”

“When?”

“When what?”

“When are you leaving, Morrigan?” Her voice came out hard and almost snapish.

“Tomorrow most likely.” Morrigan frowned.

“So soon?” Nesta asked, taking a step closer.

“I have work to do.”

“Y-you should rest.”

“I have been resting.” Morrigan watched her shift in demeanor and she could not understand why she now seemed so distraught. “Are you alright, Nesta?”

“I need to give you your gift.”

“W-what?”

“Could you come with me?” Nesta fiddled with one of her sleeves while looking at the floor.

“I suppose?” 

With that the other female turned and marched into the house. Utterly confused, Morrigan only followed after her.

They silently walked down the hallway, the laughter, conversations, and music slowly fading away until they reached the library. Nesta opened the door and motioned for her to step inside. Still confused but wanting to find out just what Nesta wanted to give her, Morrigan stepped into the room. 

The high ceiling of the library had been glamoured to mirror the night sky above. Stars twinkled and danced and Morrigan reached to touch them. As her finger brushed against one it went shooting the other way as if it had been a shooting star. 

Nesta drew her attention by clearing her throat. “There is a dance we never did. I learned on my own. You showed me a few times but we never did do it.” 

“The Specere.” Morrigan whispered.

“Yes. The mirror, isn’t it?”

A rush of pain and sorrow threatened to swallow her whole and she bit down the whimper that was rising in her throat. “D-do you know of its origin”

Nesta frowned and shook her head.

“We have been told that the dance was created by two high fae. They were deeply in love but they were not meant to be. At least by their family standards the two just did not fit together, not in their eyes. In defiance they made a dance. Each time a song played they would dance, following each other’s stances and movements. There was never a right or wrong move yet somehow they mirrored each other with precision. It is said that their love was what moved them in perfect synchrony.” Morrigan looked at the ceiling of the library and let out a deep breath. 

“Did they…”

“End up together?” Morrigan finished for Nesta who nodded. “Nobody knows. It is just a story.”

“So what I learned…”

“Is an interpretation of it.” She supplied for her. “The way I have seen someone dance it.”

Nesta thought for a moment before walking closer, “then let's make our own. I want this dance to be your gift.”

“Nesta-”

“Please?” 

The other female extended a hand with a hopeful look in her eyes and Morrigan found herself unable to deny her. Nesta glanced to a table and following her gaze, Morrigan found the veritas. The female before pressed her lips together and Morrigan could only laugh. She waved her hand at it and immediately music flooded the library. 

Together they danced. At the beginning Morrigan could recall the movements from what she had seen time and time before but soon enough they were dancing with their own moves. They mirrored each other perfectly and Morrigan could only smile as they did. At times they drew close only to step back and twirl. It felt as though they were lost in waves. Crashing in only to recede back. Once the song came to its final notes they stood closer than they had during their dance, their gazes locked in each other’s and a light sheet of sweat lining their skin while they panted. 

Nesta broke the silence first, “I guess the end of the story is up to us. We can decide what happens.”

“Tell me then. What happens at the end?”

“They’re together. Because to hell with their families. If their love is strong enough to reflect in their dancing, if they move together without having to utter a single word then why would they not be with each other?”

The question punched a hole through Morrigan and she could feel tears prickling her eyes. With a shaky breath she pulled away trying to calm her quick beating heart. Nesta only watched her, not saying another word. In those grey Morrigan saw things she did not understand.

“I… thank you for my gift.” She managed to say before turning away. “I should get going. I need to rest.”

Quick steps echoed through the library and a hand wrapped around hers. “What do you want from me?”

Morrigan had no idea why she was asking that but replied nonetheless. “I am in no position to ask anything of you.” She glanced over her shoulder and found her own pain reflected back.

“What if I ask for something, then?”

“I will give you anything.” Morrigan said without hesitation.

“Then if I want you to answer two questions with only the truth, will you?” There was a steely look in her grey eyes that spelled trouble but Morrigan could not help herself.

“My magic is truth. I could never taint it with a lie.” She replied softly.

“I want your word.” Nesta insisted. “For my next two questions I want only the truth without dubious answers or wordplay and in return I will give you the same.”

Morrigan tilted her head at Nesta’s wording but thought nothing of it. The other female had only been in the Night Court briefly and she would surely not know how to make a bargain, at least not one which could involve a tattoo. On top of that, Morrigan had already said she would only reply with truth.

“You have my word.”

“Then it’s a bargain.” 

At Nesta’s words, black lines etched themselves around her hand and fingers. Morrigan stood staring wide eyed as a tattoo formed on her own hand mirroring Nesta’s. She had been totally wrong when she thought Nesta would not know.

“Uh-”

“No questions yet.” Nesta cut her off quickly. “I’m part of the Night Court too. And I’m a quick learner. Now you’re bound.”

“You did not need to do this.” Morrigan stepped away from the other female.

“I want straight answers. I’ve had enough of your cousin's wordplay. Besides, even if you would not lie you may still hide things and I don’t want that.”

Panic rose to Morrigan’s chest and the thought of the questions she would be asked. She wanted to run. Run far enough that Nesta’s questions would not reach her ears. Distance, she wanted distance. She could winnow to her estate and then she would be gone and there would be no questions and no one else getting hurt.

“Please, don’t leave.” Nesta’s voice sounded so small while she pleaded that Morrigan stood still, once more unable to deny her. “It won’t be too complicated. I won’t ask you to reveal any secrets.” 

Morrigan held her hands together in front of her and tore her gaze away from Nesta before speaking, “then ask.”

“Am I…” Nesta’s voice broke slightly, making Morrigan look back at her, “am I enough?”

“You must have lost your mind in order to ask something like that.” 

Morrigan allowed her tears to slide down her cheeks. She could not comprehend how Nesta still thought so poorly of herself. How she could not see what her sisters, her friends, and she herself saw. It was incomprehensible. 

“I just need you to say it.” Nesta’s own cheeks were lined with tears, her eyes closed.

“Oh Nesta,” Morrigan gently cleared Nesta’s tears away, “you are enough. What you did in the past does not change what you are doing now. It is also true that what you are doing now does not erase your past. But the past is the past and it that is where it shall stay. So yes, you are more than enough. And you are so loved for the person that you are. I hate that you cannot see what we can.”

Bottom lip quivering Nesta took a deep breath and looked at her, “then why are you, unlike my sisters, running away from me?”

“N-Nesta please, ask something else. P-please.” Pain, physical pain laced up her arm making her wince. 

“I want to know. I want to understand.” Nesta’s gaze intensified and the swirling silver flames began to dance in her eyes. “I know what you feel for me. I can see it in your eyes. I can feel it. So tell me why, despite that, you are running away from me?”

“I-I cannot… ah!” Pain shut up her arm and into her chest.

“You have to tell me. Morrigan, you have to.”

Minutes of excruciating pain went by as she tried to fight the bargain but Nesta stood her ground and would not budge. Breathing was becoming slightly harder and she fell to her knees, the other female following suit.

“Please, Morrigan. Please, tell me.”

“Because me staying will hurt too much.” She let out heavily, feeling the pain receding. “Me staying by your side without being able to do anything else will kill me. But then, in the slight chance that you want something more that will mean others will be in pain.” Morrigan hiccuped and watched tears running down Nesta’s face while she shook her head. “It is not fair. Not for me or you or Cassian… he is your mate, Nesta. I cannot take you away from him. You two are meant to be together. Your bond-”

“To hell with the bond!” Nesta exclaimed and stood up to pace the room. “I didn’t ask for it. I get to choose. Me! Not some ancient rule that is more based on whether your offspring will be good or not. It is ridiculous that you all let some moronic thing from millenia ago dictate who you will be with. And it is not fair.” She turned back to face her, taking a deep. “Cassian is important to me. I won’t deny it. He has helped me through awful times.”

“Then what do you want from me?” Morrigan said in between whimpers as she looked at her from where she kneeled on the ground.

“I want you to stay… with me. I want you to stay.” Nesta answered quickly as if compelled to do so, which meant the bargain was still active on her side.

“Nesta…”

“I wanted to feel.” Nesta interrupted and Morrigan closed her mouth and listened. “I wanted to feel something. It sounds and is so selfish. I wanted to feel so I used him to feel. It wasn’t until he was between my legs that the numbness went away. I’d lose myself and the power thrumming beneath my skin would just stop.”

Her words clanged through Morrigan bringing way more pain than what trying to abstain from answering her had brought. “I think that is enough. There is no need for you to say anything else.” 

“But then you…” Nesta’s voice wavered, drawing Morrigan back. “You made me feel by just standing there. Even before everything happened you were a constant in my head. With him there’s always the need for more from me but you… with you everything is so different. You haven’t silenced my fire, you've embraced it. My magic doesn’t go away when I’m with you, it calms, it becomes mine. Being with you feels so effortless.” Kneeling once more before her, Nesta took her hands in her own. “You can’t leave. I need you here.”

“But Cassian-”

“Can you think about yourself now? Just yourself. Please.” Nesta cried, her tears coming down in droves. 

Morrigan shook her head, “I-”

“Ask me.” Nesta said quickly, squeezing her hands. “Ask me, Morrigan.”

Morrigan watched her, the question she wanted to ask surfacing inside her head almost instantly. Effortless, Nesta had said. Being with her felt effortless to Nesta. But Morrigan knew well that dealing with the repercussions of allowing this to happen would be anything but. They would have to deal with both Cassian and Azriel, and who knew what Rhysand thought of it all. Amren had been right, being together would bring chaos. It could divide their circle at a point in time when they needed to be closer than ever. There were too many unknowns, their very lives were being threatened as it was.

“Mor… p-please, ask me.” 

Nesta pressed her hand to Morrigan’s cheek, making her whimper at the touch. She needed Nesta. She needed her so much. And she was right, distancing themselves when something could come of this was absurd. It was not fair at all. There would be so much pain and not only for her.

“Mor.”

Taking a deep breath, Morrigan leaned into Nesta’s hand and briefly closed her eyes before opening them once more. “D-do you… do you love me?”

Nesta smiled as more tears ran down her face, “yes. I love you in a way I never thought possible.” 

Morrigan laughed softly through her tears and felt her whole body begin to tremble as Nesta grew nearer. Her scent surrounded Morrigan in an instant and unlike before she need not brace herself because the scent was just her, it was only Nesta. Their breaths mingled while Nesta now cradled her face, her touch ever so gentle as one wrong move and she would break. Then she stopped moving forward, not in hesitation but to ensure Morrigan wanted the same thing she did.

“Yes.” Morrigan whispered.

Without a second thought, Nesta’s lips were moving on top of hers and in the world there was only them. She knew Nesta’s lips were soft from looking at them but feeling their softness now was a different matter. They moved together in their own dance. It built up with each second, going from soft and chaste to intense and passionate. Morrigan had been alive for so long and had kissed so many others and yet she had never felt this. She could feel it everywhere. In the pit of her stomach. At the tip of her fingers. Rushing from her head to the bottom of her feet.

There had always been something missing and now she knew the missing piece was Nesta. Her blood rushed for her, burned for her. Her heart sang its song and her soul intermingled with hers. The kiss tore her world and formed it anew. She could not believe she wanted to run from this. By the mother, why had she waited this long? This was what she needed to finally be whole. They were not mates like Feyre and Rhysand or her own parents. But their connection to each other was just as strong.

When they finally broke away, their foreheads pressed together and panting, matching smiles etched into their faces. Morrigan knew what would come from this. The good and the bad. However, if she had Nesta she could care less about it. She knew the people they would have to face. But if she had to in order to be like this then let them come. She would face it all.

“I know the bargain is fulfilled but…” Nesta bit her lip and looked away. 

Morrigan knew what she wanted to ask already and she grinned. “I did not expect you to be this… soft.”

“I’m not soft.” Nesta glared for a few seconds before letting out a breath. “Only with you.” She admitted reluctantly. 

“I may have noticed.” Morrigan chuckled as the other female grumbled. “Nesta?”

“What?”

“I also love you.”

Nesta tried and failed to hide her smile but the moment Morrigan was going to point it out the other female stopped her with yet another kiss. Once more the world fell away, leaving only them. As they parted Morrigan watched Nesta's silly smile turn into a more smug one which made her laugh and shake her head.

“You’ll still have to go. Won’t you?” Nesta’s smile withered away.

Morrigan pulled away only to place a kiss on her forehead. “I do. What I said about being an envoy remains true. I have to bolster our relations with other territories and get us allies.”

“I see.”

“But I still need some rest.” 

“You do?”

“I do.” Morrigan watched as a smile grew once more in Nesta’s face and she mirrored it. “I need you to listen to me, alright?” At Nesta’s nod she placed a light kiss on her nose before continuing. “Even when I have to go I need you to understand that I will always come back to you. Always, Nesta.”

“You… you…” Nesta huffed slightly. “You promise?”

“I swear.”

“This is going to be messy.” Nesta mused but soon a smile illuminated her face. “But you’ll always come back to me.”

Morrigan nodded and pecked her lips just because she could. “I will always come back to you. I will not distance myself from you anymore. I swear it. Now… would you like to come rest with me?”

“Just like that?” Nessta smiled.

“I have a feeling I can just tell your sister and at least for tonight and the next few days we can delay facing the mess. Unless you would rather do it now? I will do whatever you want.”

“Let’s go rest, like you say.”

Morrigan let out a giggle which Nesta echoed. “I really do love you.”

“You know I do too.”

“I think you will enjoy Athelwood.”

“Athelwood?” 

“My home away from everyone else, where we can be alone.”

Nesta smiled devilishly, “I like the sound of that. I really like it."

"I am glad you do."

#Mesta #nesta archeron #the morrigan #acotar #A Court of Silver Flames #mor x nesta #nesta x morrigan #happy pride 🌈

[moon--mama]

So I’ve been obsessing over ACOTAR ever since I finished the series last week, and this is my meager contribution to the fandom.

New fic: Sword and Starlight

Pairings: Nesta/Cassian, Feyre/Rhysand, Elain/?, Azriel/?, Gwyneth/? (Hang in there)

Summary: When Emerie brings Nesta a young Illyrian girl for training, the Inner Circle sees an opportunity to finally turn things around for the women living in the war camps of the Steppes. But with war looming on the horizon, the Circle is distracted by the pressure of protecting the newest addition to their family.

Warning: spice level 🌶️🌶️🌶️

Read it at AO3 here:

Chapter 1: Valkyries

The first arrived shortly after midsummer. No one was sure what to make of her, the young Illyrian female that Emerie pushed over the threshold of the training grounds at the House or Wind.

“Her name is Helia,” the Valkyrie said briefly.

Nesta’s eyes were wide as she looked from the girl to her friend. “Why did you bring her here?” She asked. But Emerie’s expression told Nesta the answer before the question was even voiced.

It was Cassian’s voice over her shoulder who answered. “Her father and brothers were killed in the war against Hybern,” he guessed.

Emerie nodded once to confirm.

Nesta’s eyes flashed with understanding as her mate sauntered close enough that she could feel his head next to her. This child—nothing more than a girl—had been living in Windhaven with her mother since the war concluded. Now that she’d come of age, relatives were pressuring her mother to clip her wings and match her with an eligible male.

The girl was trembling, her eyes cast to the ground. Her thin frame told the story of hungry winters and summers full of muscle-rending work. The brown hair tumbling over her wiry shoulders was dull and tangled.

Emerie didn’t have to say anything else to Nesta. She didn’t have to ask.

“She’s safe here,” Nesta said firmly. At that, the child’s eyes flew to her face. Shockingly clear blue stared up at her, questioning.

She felt her mate shift on his feet, a deep sigh drawing up from his core. Before he could say a word of dissent, Nesta turned sharply to face him.

Their eyes met.

After several tense minutes of a silent battle in which neither was willing to relent, Nesta cocked one eyebrow. Cassian huffed once and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Mother save us,” he muttered. Glancing down at their new ward, he said more clearly, “She can stay in the lower level guest rooms for now. I’ll have to talk this over with Devlon and Rhys, of course.”

Nesta’s hackles rose at that. “Of course, nothing!” She snapped. “Why do they need to know? This is my House.”

Cassian looked ready to say something—probably something very unwise—when Emerie suddenly laughed. She clapped Nesta on the shoulder, grinning broadly. “I missed you two,” she said fondly. “I’ll take the girl to her room so that you can sort this out, like adults.”

Emerie winked at them with her final parting shot. As her friend grabbed Helia by the hand and drifted toward the stairs, Nesta was overcome with a similar wave of fondness for the Illyrian shopkeeper. Ideas about the future were sparking in Nesta’s mind. Nothing short of reinstating the Valkyries had inspired her this much. Oh, she would certainly handle this…situation. And it would definitely be like an adult.

**

Their room was dark save for some hints of the midday sun peeking around the heavy drapes. The moment that Nesta got her mate behind the doors, she pushed him onto their bed. Cassian couldn’t help a brief smirk from playing across his face as he let himself fall. So it would be this sort of discussion, then.

He pulled her down next to him, slipping his hands beneath her sweater and making short work of throwing it into some forgotten corner of the room. Nesta let him do it, even helping to slip out of her leggings, before allowing him to draw her up against his chest. Everywhere their skin touched, she felt the promise of what was to come, heat twisting deep within her abdomen.

“We can’t take in every preadolescent Illyrian female in the Steppes,” Cassian mumbled against her neck, breathing in her scent.

Nesta replied by dragging her fingernails absently along the sensitive stretch of flesh where his right wing folded out from his shoulder, eliciting a shudder from her mate. Her eyes flashed briefly with a silver light that hinted at wells of power deeper than any mortal being had the right to possess. “And why not?” She drawled, her mind already working.

Cassian reached toward her to return her caresses, but she slid her knee over him before his fingers could so much as brush her skin. She knew that he hated to pin his wings at his back—yet as she mulled over the fate of the Illyrian women, the fate he himself had been fighting to change for more than a hundred years, she thought wryly that he could stand some discomfort. He sucked in a breath and let her gain the higher ground, his wrists falling back beside his head. Only with her, would he let his guard down so completely.

“The war lords, for one, won’t appreciate—“

Nesta’s hand dipped swiftly to his cock, her fingers curling around his balls. She’d kneed them once, when they first met. As she gave them a gentle squeeze now, Cassian’s words died in his throat, becoming a deep rumble of desire as he groaned.

“I’m sure the war lords have been enjoying their chokehold over the girls for centuries,” she purred dangerously. “It’s time to give those girls an alternative. And you know perfectly well that it won’t come from within the camps.”

No, not with Devlon the most progressive of the war lords, and with even his lip curling whenever the Valkyries were sighted in his camp. Nevermind that one of them lived there. Cassian, Rhysand, and Azriel had been souring the mountains for weeks to seek out the war lords who had supported Brillyan’s interference in the Blood Rite. But short of killing all of them, there was little to be done about the Illyrian commanders and their feelings toward the women who had won the highest honor Ramiel could offer.

Nesta’s hand slipped higher, curling around Cassian’s shaft. He couldn’t resist pushing his hips up toward her hand. A wicked smirk flitted over her lips as she loosened her grip, drawing a frustrated moan out of her mate as she intentionally deprived him of the friction that could bring him to completion.

“Okay—you win,” he conceded. “Ten, thirty, a hundred, just—“ her smirk broadened into a victorious grin as his fingers dug into her thighs. “Fuck, Nes—“

Nesta lifted herself onto her knees, hands guiding her mate exactly where she wanted him. She took a moment to appreciate the feeling of him sliding into place within her. It was a feeling that only Cassian had ever provided for her, only her mate…a feeling that she was finally complete. Cassian may have lost their argument, but she could feel his thrill through their bond as he shoved himself away from their bed, his hands sliding into a familiar lock around her thighs. As his wings stretched behind him, shaking off their earlier imprisonment, Nesta raked her nails over the sensitive membranes.

His answering thrust to the pain-tinged pleasure of those feline scratches on his most sensitive anatomy forced a yelp from her lips. Cassian shifted them to the edge of the bed and leveraged his feet against the floor to drive himself deep into the place that soon had her coming undone. Nesta tipped back her head, exposing her throat as she came. She could feel their bond, golden and taut as it had been the first night they’d dared to admit their feelings for one another. It sent another shudder through her as Cassian’s warmth filled her and she felt the pleasure of his release though that peculiar fae magic that bound them as one.

Completely satisfied, she tipped her head forward until her forehead was pressed against his.

“Thank you,” she said, in the tender tone that she reserved for him alone.

Cassian’s laugh shook her. “I mean, I know I’m good Nes, but I’ve never expected you to thank me—“

“Not for that, you animal,” she snarled, hitting his chest lightly.

He snaked his arms around her and she could still hear his fading smirk as he said, “No need to thank me for that either. Devlon isn’t going to let you do this, Nes. We’ve tried, for so many years.”

She slid off his lap and stretched out on the bed beside him, her toes barely touching the tip of his right wing. “You think I’ll fail,” she observed calmly, as Cassian ran one hand through his hair.

“No, I—“

“You think that since you have tried everything, there’s nothing I can do.”

He must have realized his mistake. Challenging his mate like this would only convince her to try harder. A hundred Illyrian girls, indeed. By the end of the season, Nesta planned to have at least one hundred and ten training like Valkyries at the House. More, if she could find them.

Cassian’s expression told her that he saw her determination, and it was their bond that helped her feel his mingled resignation and admiration for her goal. He didn’t have to say he’d help her, fly her to every camp, champion her cause…Nesta already knew she could count on his help. He pulled her to him again, until her breasts were pressed against his chest. With his left arm, he stroked her hair away from her cheek.

“I think that you can do anything, Nesta Archeron,” he said simply. “Just leave a few of the war lords alive for me, please.”

**

As Nesta stepped into the training ring the next morning, the sun beat down from the corner of a cloudless blue sky.

Azriel was already there, as was the girl: Helia. She was standing near a rack of swords, shifting her weight from foot to foot, still staring pointedly at the ground. At least she’d brushed her hair. Az, for his part, said nothing as Nesta approached them. The quirk of one brow was question enough.

“Azriel, meet Helia,” she said shortly. “She’s come to train with us.”

He nodded quietly, turning back to the girl with an assessing eye. “Is she—alone?”

Helia looked up at that, but quickly ducked her head down again as the sun hit her face. She knew what Azriel was truly asking—whether or not the girl was orphaned. Nesta shook her head.

���No, but her mother requested that she spend some time with us here and learn to defend herself. Before anything permanent were to happen to her.”

He nodded once with complete understanding. Of all the Illyrians Nesta knew, Azriel was by far the least sympathetic to what they referred to as traditions. Helia still did not raise her head. Gently, Azriel said to Nesta, “We’ll begin with hand to hand combat, then.”

She thought back to her earliest days in this ring and frowned. “Why not balance?” She asked.

Azriel let out a huff that could only have been a laugh. He gestured to a beam at the side of the ring. “Run her through a balance set and see for yourself.”

Helia looked up then, glancing from Nesta to the beam with a question in her eyes. Nesta nodded once, curious to see what Azriel thought he knew about the girl.

She walked calmly to the beam, her wings tucked firmly against her back. With one last glance back at them, she hopped up with one of the most graceful movements Nesta had ever seen from a child. It had taken her months with her dancing tutor to even come close to such command of her center.

Helia walked the beam once before turning and carrying out a perfect cartwheel. She held herself in a handstand and curved her feet back, over her pinned wings, until she formed a perfect bridge. Springing upright, she dipped her feet to the side of the beam with each step as she crossed it once more. All the while, she made eye contact with no one.

Watching the balance dance, Nesta drew in a breath. “Let me guess,” she muttered. “Illyrian children are taught to balance from birth.”

Azriel was nodding, smiling faintly but his eyes were tinged with that particular sadness he carried sometimes. “It’s the—“

Cassian’s voice cut across the ring. “It’s so that we can skip right into beating each other senseless when we finally begin our formal training.”

Azriel’s smile grew more distinct as Cassian neared them. A shadow curled around his arm, winding its way up to his ear. Nesta wondered what secrets that shadow was whispering. But she would easily admit that of all their family, her mate included, Nesta had always found Azriel the least annoying.

Helia’s first skill proven, there remained the question of her other fighting skills. She was still dressed in the near-rags she’d arrived in yesterday, however. It would be a disadvantage in a practice fight, as they’d have a difficult time seeing the way she carried herself. Nesta wished that the House had more facilities for changing, but since the priestesses lived in the library they often changed and washed themselves there.

If they were going to do this thing, they’d need facilities. Showers. Places to change. Places to sleep, and eat (other than the formal dining room above that Rhys reserved for the court). Maybe even more places to practice. She stared at the place where Helia had just proven her skill, lost in thought.

Azriel’s brief noise of surprise made Nesta glance away from the balance beam. A gasp of surprised died in her throat as well.

Next to the door they’d always used, the door leading back into the House, a new door had just appeared. At its base, a cat made of shadows sat idly licking its paw.

Nesta’s eyes lit with excitement. “Thank you,” she breathed to her friend, who meowed once in response before darting over and vanishing into a dark corner.

She was willing to bet that behind that door they’d find everything she had been thinking about only moments before. The House was the one thing in her life that had reliably provided what she needed, whenever she needed it. She’d been given access to the most powerful magic in the universe, and Nesta had Made herself a parent at last.

“Find someone Helia’s size to challenge her,” she said to Cassian, starting to cross toward the new door.

He looked around. “Nesta, there are only adults here.”

“Then call Mor or Rhys and go get one of the boys from Windhaven,” she snapped impatiently, turning toward her mate before she’d touched the new door.

Cassian and Azriel exchanged glances. “I already called Rhys,” her mate admitted. “He’s coming as—“

And in that instant, her brother-in-law stood before them. Power and night rolled off him unchecked, his violet eyes scanning the ring and missing nothing. The priestesses who were training at the other end stopped to gawk momentarily, though they’d each have met him before. Rhys made it a personal point to offer each one sanctuary in the library. Though his power and benevolence used to irritate Nesta, she’d developed a begrudging respect for her brother-in-law over the past couple of weeks. It was a tentative mutual regard, forged by her sacrifice in saving the lives of her sister, Rhysand, and Nyx. The ridiculously lavish mating ceremony he’d bankrolled for Nesta and Cassian had certainly helped repair the animosity between them. His eyes met hers briefly and Nesta was surprised to see the corner of his mouth quirk sideways into a small smile. Little steps, indeed.

Mere heartbeats after his arrival, Nesta’s sister Feyre arrived with baby Nyx in her arms. Feyre’s face broke into an immediate smile, but Nesta surveyed the family with some apprehension, not returning Rhysand’s friendly expression. Cassian took a step toward her, reaching out one hand to her arm in a soothing gesture. But she was already irritated with her mate for calling in the family. It would take only a word from either the High Lord or Lady, and the plan she had been forming in her mind would be stifled forever. Nesta enjoyed her life, her second chance, living with her mate while she trained and worked with her friends, but Emerie’s unexpected delivery had given her a glimpse of something…more. Something impactful. Something that could not only soothe the broken women they sheltered, but save them before they needed saving.

Before anyone could speak, Nyx shifted and let out an enormous belch. Feyre and Rhysand’s attention snapped to the babe, everyone else momentarily forgotten. It took Nesta by such surprise that she let out a small laugh before she could help herself.

Feyre shifted Nyx so that he was upright, glancing over at Rhys with an expression of wary alarm. “Maybe you could take him for a moment,” she purred, pressing their baby into his arms.

Rhys’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You didn’t feed him before you winnowed, did—“

But the next belch from Nyx was accompanied by a stream of creamy vomit, dribbling down the black and silver-threaded shirt that Rhys seemed to favor above all other attire. Nesta couldn’t help but snickering again.

He heaved an aggrieved sigh and patted their son on the back, below his tiny wings. With a brief snap of his fingers, the vomit vanished to that pocket between realms that only High Fae seemed privy to using. Feyre tried to keep a straight face through it all, but as she turned back toward Nesta her eyes were full of triumph.

“He’s been sullying everything I own,” she whispered quickly. “You’d think for such a small creature he’d keep at least some of it down. But winnowing never agrees with him.” Her eyes briefly took on that faraway look that told Nesta her brother was communicating exactly how he felt being used as a burp towel, but then they cleared with a tiny shake of her head.

“I’m sure he will someday soon. I remember you being a very unreliable child yourself,” she muttered, mind drifting back to days when her mother had pushed Feyre into the arms of a nursemaid at every opportunity. She’d never been puked on like that, because she’d never held Feyre long enough to risk it. As a child, Nesta had wondered if the new baby’s vomiting had been a call for their mother’s attention and immediately resented the problematic bundle of noise and filth. With a brief shake of her own head to clear the memories, Nesta drew in a breath and prepared to argue her case.

Feyre beat her to it. “I think this is a wonderful idea,” she breathed. “Where is she? The first one? Is she—is she unharmed?” Her eyes drifted over the priestesses, looking for Helia and not finding her.

Azriel cleared his throat. He shifted one of his great wings and the girl stepped out of his shadows. Her eyes were still downcast, and Nesta’s heart fell as she saw that once again the girl was trembling.

Feyre saw her fear, as well. Her eyes grew distant for a moment, and Nesta saw the girl’s figure still. She sucked in a breath and looked at Feyre, assessing just how much meddling she might be doing in the defenseless child’s mind—

Then, unaccountably, Helia lifted her chin and looked at them. Those clear blue eyes moved from Nesta’s face to Freyre’s, and then to Rhysand. As her eyes settled on baby Nyx, she…smiled.

Nesta looked over at Cassian in surprise. Was Helia opposed to or frightened of them?

The child dropped to her knee, dipping her head once more. “My Lord,” she said, her voice husky from disuse. “My Lady.”

Feyre smiled at Nesta before stepping forward and saying easily, “Rise, Helia. There’s no need for that sort of formality here. We simply wished to ask you a few questions, with your permission.”

Here it was, then. The fate of Nesta’s plans, the fate of the Valkyries, would rest on the words of a sullen child who seemed half terrified and half resentful of her hosts. It was just like Feyre to disregard her—

Nesta felt it then. Feyre’s approach to her mental shields, her gentle rapping at the iron gates surrounding Nesta’s mind. Dampening down her negative thoughts, she begrudgingly met Feyre at a crack, wondering why her sister acted in secret.

I could feel your tension from the River House, Feyre whispered across Nesta’s mind. We want to know how many children will train, if we need to build dormitories, if she might have friends to bring along. We support you, Nesta. And the Valkyries. Rhys thinks it’s a fabulous idea.

Like unclenching a fist, the tension immediately leaked away from Nesta’s mind and body. She looked over at her brother, whose violet eyes twinkled knowingly.

They supported her. They supported the Valkyries.

No need to build anything. I took care of it already, Nesta thought, knowing her sister would hear her. Feyre smiled again and turned back toward the girl. They walked together across the ring, talking softly.

Suddenly, Nesta felt her eyes wetting. Some deep part of her worried that she still didn’t deserve this, the trust and support her family gave her after the many ways she’d failed them all for so long. She swiped her hand across her brow, pretending to tuck her hair behind her ear as she dashed the tears before they could gather any more. In three quick steps, she closed the distance between herself and her brother in law, her arms outstretched.

“Give me that beautiful Illyrian baby,” she demanded. “Let’s see if he’ll keep his breakfast down for his aunt.”

The second door burst open at that moment, spilling a somewhat disheveled Gwyneth into the sunlight. She caught sight of the family and her face broke into a joyful smile. Hooking a thumb over her shoulder, she said, “Did you know that there’s a whole new House over there? I counted forty rooms on my way up from a door I’d never seen before in the Library. What, are we hosting an army and nobody told me?”

Nesta held up a finger for Nyx to grab before he could latch onto her hair. She regarded her friend, one of the most powerful women in the Night lands, and returned her bright smile. “To sum up a long story—yes.”

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