crimsonfrostx

[crimsonfrostx]

[crimsonfrostx]

[crimsonfrostx]

[crimsonfrostx]

A Road Well Traveled Masterlist

You left 76 years ago without a word. You missed Amarantha's reign of terror. Missed the Archeron sister's turning fae, and even the birth of the newest addition to the Night Court. When you finally come back, will the Inner Court understand why you fled?

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

[crimsonfrostx]

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝓢𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼

A Road Well Traveled (Azriel x Reader)

[crimsonfrostx]

My respect goes out to everyone who writes fanfiction. Whether you're crafting epic sagas, filling in missing moments, or just having fun with an AU, it takes so much creativity and dedication to bring those ideas to life.

Writing isn’t easy—finding the right words, keeping the momentum, and sometimes just convincing yourself to start can be a challenge. And yet, fanfic writers do it anyway, pouring love into their stories, expanding worlds, and giving us all something to obsess over.

I’ve even tried writing myself, and let me tell you—it’s hard. I don’t know if I can keep it going, and now I completely understand why there are so many unfinished fics out there. It takes so much effort to see a story through to the end, and honestly? That makes me respect fic writers even more.

So if you write fanfiction—whether you share it or keep it to yourself—just know that it’s appreciated. You’re amazing. Keep writing.

[crimsonfrostx]

Reblogging one of my favorite digital drawings I did ^_^

[crimsonfrostx]

A Road Well Traveled (Azriel X Reader) Part 6

Word Count: 2607 Warnings: general angst/steamy fluff, slow burn Part 5

It was the simple idea of his lips against yours that kept you awake that night. 

And the next. And most definitely the night after that too. A week passes of you avoiding your best friend like the plague. A week of talking to Rhysand, bonding with Feyre as they try to help, working on strengthening your mental shields to the point of a migraine and an impressed High Lord who couldn't slip into the fortress of your mind. On that final day, nursing a headache from the smug violet eyed bastard, you grit your teeth and pad up the stairs to your room, only to pause on the final step. 

Azriel was waiting for you and the moment you spot him, your heart skips a beat. His wings are flared slightly, the shadows around him agitated, dancing between the two of you. He's leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and eyes locked on you. He watches you approach silently, waiting till you step off the stairs and into the hallway, his expression dark.

You inwardly curse, debating if you have the time or the energy to run away, but a shadow curls around your wrists, tugging you closer. You know you're doomed and heave out a tired sigh, moving through the hall with small measured steps. Stopping in front of him, you slowly glance up from under your lashes. "Hey, Az," you greet hesitantly.

Azriel scoffs at your hesitant tone, his gaze boring into you. "Hey? That's all you're going to say?" his questions gruffly, his wings still flared.

You wince and close your eyes. "Can I get into my room please?" You ignore the pointed jab, knowing you deserved that.

He huffs, a bitter sound and his expression hardens. The shadows wrapped around your wrist gently loosen, freeing it from its hold. He pushes off the wall and moves closer to the door, making a sweeping motion for you to go first.

You brush past him carefully, making sure not to touch him for your own sanity. Shrugging out of your jacket, you keep your back facing him, partly so you don't have to look at his face.

Azriel closes the door behind him, leaning his weight against it and crossing his arms over his chest, his gaze darkening on your form as you shed your jacket. He stands there, watching you, waiting for you to turn around.

After a moment of tense silence, you pointedly glance over your shoulder, trying not to wince at the glare he had leveled at the movement. "What do you want, Az?"

His expression remains hard, like granite, his gaze flicking across your features before settling on your eyes. "We need to talk," he starts, his voice firm as he stands there staring at you.

"About?" You move across the room to your window, taking a seat on the small bench built in.

He sighs, his expression still set in firm lines as he watches you sit. "Do we really have to play this game?" he inquires dryly, his gaze flickering over your body before landing on your face.

You shrug, still not meeting his gaze and instead turning to stare out of the window.

He pushes away from the door, his body tensing before he strides over to stand in front of the window, placing his hands on either side of the sill and boxing you in, his expression turning darker. "Look at me," he orders, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.

You sigh like this was the most tiring thing in the world, and at the moment, you'd argue that it was. But damn, did you miss your friend. Squaring your shoulders and tensing your jaw, you turn your head and look up at him. He's close enough that you can see the individual specks of gold in his hazel orbs, see the small scar at the corner of his lips, can count the dark lashes that frame his eyes. You soften immediately, warmth, affection and fear all swirling together in chaotic harmony for the male in front of you.

His gaze roams over your face as you finally meet his gaze, his body still tensed and he has to refrain from closing the space between you. He can smell your scent so close to him, the subtle notes of wildflowers and rain and his chest tightens. "You've been avoiding me," he observes quietly, his gaze never leaving your face.

"I have," you admit readily, not looking away despite the urge to.

His expression remains stoic, but his gaze holds an edge of pain to it. "Why?" he questions, his voice hoarse and quiet.

You suck in a small breath, eyes wavering slightly, dipping to his lips, the thought that had been plaguing you for days coming back with a vengeance. "I don't know," you say quietly, your body humming with nervous energy that feels out of place around Azriel.

He narrows his gaze on your face, his eyes watching yours flick down to his lips, his own chest tightening in an unfamiliar way. "Liar," he murmurs, his gaze not wavering even when your eyes snaps back to his.

Your lips quirk up traitorously, your eyes shining with emotion that you try your hardest to keep locked tightly inside, lest he felt it in the air around them. When you realize he won't leave until he gets his answer, the smile fades just as quickly, replaced by worry and guilt. "I... I don't know how to feel around you."

He leans a little closer, his face now only inches away from yours. His gaze is intense in a way that leaves you unable to look away, a strange feeling in your gut. "Don't know how to feel around me," he repeats, his voice coming out in a strangled tone. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Your breath hitches in your throat, your eyes half lidded as you watch him. "It means... I value your friendship too much to mess it all up," you say softly, trailing over the sharp lines of his face, like your words were about to drive him away for good and this was the last time you could truly see him.

Azriel falters a bit at your words, his body leaning forward so that the distance between dwindles to practically nothing. "And how, if I may ask," he murmurs, his voice soft in the near silence in the room, "do you think you will mess it up?"

You feel your heart absolutely shatter and you know there is no lying to him. Not now. Not anymore. Maybe he knew the truth of it all along. The words leave you in an exhale, and you don't breathe after they're out. "By loving you more than I should."

The world stops in that instant, the only sound is the thrum of his heart, pounding relentlessly in his chest, the world falling apart at your words.  Azriel's eyes widen slightly, his breath ragged as he tries to process what you said. He stays frozen, his gaze searching your face, not believing that you have just said the words he had longed to hear for so very long.

You want to flee, his eyes burning into your soul and making you wish you had stayed away a little longer. Though you knew the truth of it now, clear as day. There would never be enough time on this planet to stop loving the male in front of you. He had twisted himself around your heart in shadowy tendrils, claiming you in ways neither had noticed until it was far too late. Your eyes held his, waiting for your existence to implode at whatever his next words to be.

Azriel doesn't speak for what seems like an eternity, his gaze roams over your expression, drinking it all in, the only thought running through his mind is that the female he has pined after for half of his life had just admitted to loving him. The one thing he thought he would never have, was standing right in front of him. He doesn't think before acting, his instincts taking over, and he reaches out a hand to cup your cheek, his skin burning hot and his breathing ragged.

You can't help the slight gasp that leaves you at the sudden contact, his touch sending heat through your body, your eyes fluttering. His thumb brushes over your cheek, a gentle caress, and his gaze flickers to your mouth before returning to your eyes. "Say it again." His voice is a strangled whisper, his body pressing you into the bench, leaving nowhere to escape.

You don't hesitate. You can't, not with him looking at you like you were the very night sky that he stared up at in reverence, like you were freedom in the most delicious of ways. "I love you," the words came out easier the second time and they felt right. The most honest you've ever been to yourself and to another.

Azriel makes a strangled sound, almost like a cross between a groan and a whine, his eyes darkening as your words wash over him. He leans even closer, both of his hands now framing your face, his words coming out in a strangled whisper, "Say it again, please."

You close your eyes, savoring his touch, breathing him in. "I love you, Az." your voice shakes at the intensity of the emotions between them, and you can feel the air shift around you with your power, but you can't bring yourself to care. Now right now.

Azriel makes a guttural sound, and in the next instant, he has pulled you to face him, his arms winding around your waist to pull you completely off the window bench. In a move of pure strength, your thighs are now wrapped around his waist, his body pressed heavily against yours. His hands slide up your thighs, leaving heat in their wake, leaving you to cling to his shoulders to save yourself from falling backward. "Say it again."

When you say it again, a whisper that brushes against his lips, he pulls you impossibly tight against him, his mouth moving against yours in desperation. A soft whine leaves you, your hands tangled into his hair like it was the most natural place in the world. He moves until your back hits the wall, a small gasp giving him access to your mouth, exploring the space with skill and precision that has you moaning softly against him. He rips himself away at the sound, burying his face into your neck, leaving them both breathing hard and ragged.

You feel like the world around you has disappeared, his body the only thing you're aware of. Every point of contact between your body is sending sharp jolts of pleasure, your whole system lighting up like wildfire.

His lips brush over the skin of your neck, light feathery brushes that only have you wanting more, one hand gripping your thigh, keeping you pinned against the wall so you didn't slip. "One more time," he whispers against your skin.

You grip his face, bringing him up to meet his gaze, your expression unguarded and open just for him. "I love you, Azriel."

Azriel groans, his grip on your thighs tightening so hard it would probably leave bruises, his expression almost pained as if he can't believe the words coming out of your mouth. He closes the gap between you, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss, his hands beginning to wonder over your body, setting a fire burning wherever his touch goes.

Your mind goes blank, your world narrowing down to the sensations of his hands roaming over your body, taking in every inch of you. His kiss is fierce and desperate, and he presses you even closer, his hips pinning you to the wall and leaving no space. You can't stop the whimper that leaves you, your own mouth moving with a frenzy, teeth and tongues clashing.

A dizzy wave of heat fills the space between them, making you pull away at the intensity of it. Azriel grunts in disagreement, his eyes snapping open at the distance created, looking like he wanted to argue but stops at the sight of you. He calls your name, worry and wonder in his voice. "Your eyes... they’re glowing," he murmurs softly, his words making your head spin.

"Glowing?" You ask breathlessly, tilting your head in confusion. You suddenly are hyper aware of the overwhelming heat filling the air around the two of you, and how it makes your skin feel like it's about to ignite.

He carefully sets you down, his hands remaining on your shoulders as he guides you to the mirror on the adjacent wall. You feel unsteady at the sight. Azriel was right. Staring back at you in the mirror were glowing white orbs. The air physically shimmered around you, like a curtain of stardust, your power tangible and real to the world.

Azriel stands behind you, his chest pressed to your back, your own power leaving him completely enthralled. His gaze is fixed on your eyes, his hand still resting on your shoulder. He takes a moment to collect himself before he speaks. "That is the most incredible thing I've ever seen," he breathes, and the awe in his voice has you wondering if he means you or your power.

You watch him in the mirror, your body still thrumming with the reminder of his touch. You don't know why you do it, why you know you can force his hand, but you pull at the power in the back of your mind like it was a limb you were born with, weaving it around your best friend and the love of your long life. "Azriel," you call sweetly, eyes never shifting from his face. "How do you feel about me?"

Azriel's eyes flutter, his expression growing dazed as he feels your power wrap around him, making his knees buckle for a brief moment. His breath hitches as he focuses on your question, his breath coming out in a ragged sigh. "You... You are like the air I need to breathe to keep on living," he grits out, his hands gripping your shoulders like a lifeline.

The spell breaks, and you gasp, ripping away from him in horror, your eyes fading into their normal hue as you turn to look at him.

Azriel’s eyes widened as the magic and power that had clouded his mind vanished with your power. The realization of what had just happened hits both of you like a ton of bricks, his expression hardening as he stares at you with shocked eyes. His throat works hard to swallow, your name coming out in a strangled whisper. "You just... controlled me."

Your mouth goes dry, the sudden realization hitting you like a blow to the gut. You watch him carefully, not knowing what to say. Azriel's expression morphs into unreadable, shutting everything down and shuttering like all of his emotions had been replaced by something cold and bitter. It was like watching a fire burn out.

"I didn't... I didn't mean to-" the excuse is on the tip of your tongue, the denial and fear and guilt clogging your throat. "I'm so sorry-"

"Save it." His words are sharp like a blade, and his face is made of stone. All of the passion and softness from before has disappeared in the blink of an eye and your chest tightens at the sight.

You turn and do the only thing you know how to do. You run.

Tag list:

@rcarbo1 @zanaorian @tiffany-xx @goofygoeber @annamariereads16 @suppppp97 @chaosabroad @dallynjennasgirl @iluvyewman-blog @buttermilktea11 @starsidesigh @i-am-infinite @plants-w0rld

[crimsonfrostx]

Trista Mateer, from "Aphrodite Made Me Do It," originally published in 2019

[crimsonfrostx]

Among the Stars

 He was contagious, she decided. Something special that had saved her from herself. She’ll be around to watch the stars in the sky a little longer. Each constellation she memorizes and adores from the confines of the earth, she’ll praise his name with the stars in her eyes and a smile on her lips.

[crimsonfrostx]

A Road Well Traveled (Azriel X Reader)

Part 5

Word Count: 3065 Warnings: Scars, angst, body trauma Part 6 Part 4

You take a shaky breath, the thought of reliving and telling the inner circle your story making your body tremble. But the feeling of Azriel's arms around you, his steady heartbeat against your forehead, gives you a sliver of hope and strength. You could do this. You just needed your family. "We should... go back inside," you breathe out slowly like you're trying to convince yourself.

Azriel nods, his chin still resting on top of your head. "Yes," he murmurs, his arms tightening around you for a moment before he slowly releases you, his hand gently gripping your waist as he leads you back towards the dining room. As the two of you reach the dining room, all eyes turn to you, but no one speaks. Cassian, Rhysand, and Mor, watch you with concern, while Feyre and Elain both look on with curiosity. Nyx was missing, presumably placed back in bed.

The only person who remains unbothered is Nesta, though you suspect that her expression is more out of indifference than anything else. Amren just simply looks expressionless, sipping from a goblet filled with thick scarlet. You blinked at that, having almost forgotten her drinking habits.

Azriel takes his seat, his gaze flickering towards you as you hesitate at the edge of the table. Without speaking, he motions for you to sit, his hand gesturing towards the open chair beside him. You straighten yourself, gliding forward and taking your seat once more in between him and Elain. Rhysand lifts his brow, waiting for an explanation. You sighed and began.

And so, the whole story spills from your lips, in a voice clear and unemotional. You tell them of your departure from the Night Court, your journeys to other Courts and continents you'd been to, and the training you took. You speak of your time away in detail. From your words, they get a sense of the horrors you’ve experienced, and the fact that you have indeed changed, but they hear the loneliness that echoes within you as you describe the long years away from the home you once called family.

The room is hushed, the only sounds coming from the crackle of the fire. 

"And all of this time, you've been dealing with this...power?" Rhysand breaks the silence first, his gaze flicking towards you. You nod slowly, a strange sense of comfort filling you as you get out the things that have haunted you for so long. Azriel is completely still in his seat, having heard things from your in depth explanation that had his mind reeling. "I've been trying to control it. I didn't want to come back until I was sure I wouldn't affect anyone," you continue, feeling your heart ache all over again. "But I couldn't stay away any longer. I heard about some of the things that I missed. I've been trying to get back sooner, but... the anxiety and frustration it's left me with has been making traveling a little harder."

Rhysand's expression softens at your words, his gaze flickering to Azriel. "And you never had any help controlling it?" he asks gently, his concern for you showing. You lift your shoulders slightly in a shrug. "I've tried to find out more about it. Where it came from, if anyone else has ever had this power. I haven't found much, and I haven't come across anyone who doesn't become affected by me sooner or later."

Mor taps a manicured nail against the table, her gaze sharp and calculating. "How have you managed when you're out there all alone?" she asks, her voice filled with curiosity tinged with concern. You dip your head feeling their gazes on you. "It... was difficult," you say carefully.

Rhysand leans forward, his expression hardening. "Difficult how?" he pressed, his eyes scanning your face. You sigh, head lifting to scan their faces.

Cassian leans back in his chair, his gaze sharp and unwavering, his hand clenching on his knee. Mor's brows are furrowed, her usual carefree demeanor replaced with a look of seriousness you've only seen a few times. Feyre leans into Rhysand, her gaze glued to you, while Elain's hands are clasped in her lap, her face pinched in concern. Nesta looks mildly interested, though you suspect she's listening intently. Azriel is the only one who looks as he always has, though the only thing that betrays his indifference is the way his fists are clenched in his lap, his knuckles white. Amren… remains Amren.

"I don't want to talk about it, Rhys," you try to keep your voice steady.

Rhysand eyes you intently, his gaze flickering to the others around the table before returning to you. "I think you need to," he replies firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You look like you want to argue. You don't see the use of this conversation. What was the point? You breathe in deeply, trying to control the current of emotions beginning to burn you from the inside. "It won't change anything," you point out softly.

Azriel's eyes narrow. "It will," he chimes in, his voice firm. "We need to know how to help you. We need to know what you've been going through." You grit your teeth, deciding that Azriel was now officially a traitor. "I affect everything and everyone," you mutter, clenching your hands into fists in your lap. "I found out the hard way."

Azriel’s gaze flickers, his jaw clenching as he considers your words. "What do you mean, you found out the hard way?" he presses gently, his expression darkening.

You hated this. Closing your eyes, you have to remind yourself that your family was just worried and curious. They didn't mean harm. Azriel didn't know the hurt he was asking you to relive. "I mean," you start slowly, eyes opening to stare down at the table, "that even animals and creatures can get pissed off and agitated by me."

Understanding seems to register in Azriel’s gaze, his expression hardening. The others look at you with a mixture of pity and shock, but stay silent, waiting for you to continue your story. "I tried getting away from civilization, thinking it would be safer for everyone if I just... disappeared into the forests. One wrong nightmare later, and I found myself being mauled by anything with claws close by."

Rhysand's eyes widen, a look of horror flashing in his expression. "Mauled... by what?" he asks, his voice hoarse with concern.

You physically shudder, the images flashing behind your eyes. "A few different things," you grit out, standing slowly, hand raising the material of your shirt, your other hand pushing the band of your pants down slightly. Large, ragged scars crossed your torso and disappeared down your hip, various lengths and widths. But all of them were clearly made by multiple sets of claws, your body having been shredded viciously.

Azriel's gaze lands on the scars, his eyes widening in horror. His gaze travels over the numerous scars, taking in the extent of what you've been through. He clenches his hands into fists, his body trembling with emotion.

Mor and Feyre cover their mouths, their eyes wide in horror. The table is deathly silent as they take in the extent of the trauma your body has endured. You fix your clothes, eyes distant and feeling numb, sitting back down. "I know it's not a meal friendly show and tell," you offered over a humorless chuckle.

Silence fills the room once more as the weight of your words and the horror of your experience sinks in. Everyone is clearly affected, their faces filled with shock and disbelief. After a moment, Azriel, who looks as if he's fighting the urge to be sick, finally speaks. "How did you..." he starts but can't seem to finish the sentence.

"How did I get away? How did I survive?" You finished for him, knowing that's what they were all thinking. "I didn't get away. My fear began affecting them too, and they ran, leaving me shredded and dying."

Azriel flinches as the words leave your lips, his heart clenching painfully in his chest. The thought of you alone and injured, bleeding out in the middle of nowhere, sends his heart plunging.

The table is eerily silent again as everyone grapples with what you've said. The image of your body, left to bleed out in the dark, is too much to handle. It's too much to imagine you laying there and suffering, alone and scared, dying a slow, painful death. The ones you know the best are horrified. Rhysand, Cassian, and Mor look pale, and even Amren had frowned, her silvery eyes still locked on where your scars were now covered.

You pick up your drink and down it in one go, not meeting anyone's gaze. Mor eventually breaks the silence, her voice coming out quietly behind her own drink. "...What happened after that?"

You shrug, acting indifferent to hide the tremors that had started, the edge of your power flicking up, anxiety, unease, and fear beginning to spill from you. "I laid there for over two days. Someone eventually came across me, patched me up the best they could."

Azriel’s jaw clenches at the thought of you laying there injured and alone for two days with no hopes of help ever coming. He can feel your emotions beginning to spill over and he forces himself to relax, his breathing slow and steady in an attempt to combat your feelings.

"You're lucky to be alive after that," Rhysand says quietly, his gaze flickering over your trembling form. You nod slowly, eyes drifting over their faces before blankly looking at the table. "Yeah... lucky." You murmur, placing your empty glass back down. "I think I need to rest. Could you ward my old room?" You ask Rhysand without looking his way.

Rhysand clears his throat, glancing at Azriel, a tight nod following. "Of course," he replies gently, "and if you need it, I'll even put wards around the common rooms." You just nod, knowing that Azriel was probably communicating silently with him.

Rhysand stands, excusing himself from the table and disappearing down the hallway. Azriel's eyes follow him and then land back on you, his expression softening. "I'm going to walk you to your room,"he murmurs gently, his gaze flickering over your face.

Another slow nod, like all of your energy has just left you. You didn't want them to know the worst of it. Didn't want them to see you broken and bare, but now maybe they'll understand the danger of this power. The things it can make people and creatures do. You wait a few moments, blocking out the rest of the table and their eyes full of pity. Even Cassian has his head turned away, trying and failing to school his expression to something other than horror. Maybe it was disgust. You finally stand, carefully maneuvering out of the dining room without a word, moving to grab your bag by the front door.

Azriel immediately stands and follows you, catching up with several long strides. He silently grabs the bag from your hand, tossing it over one of his shoulders like it weighed next to nothing. The walk to your bedroom is quiet, the two of you both lost in your own thoughts. You take the stairs slowly, hand on the rail to guide yourself up. Reaching the top, you catch Rhysand slipping out of your room from down the hall, having just finished warding.

Rhysand pauses in his steps, his gaze flickering between the two of you. He doesn't speak, just looks at the way Azriel stands beside you, so close your shoulders are almost touching. But Azriel's gaze is locked forward, his focus on nothing else but the door in front of him that leads to your bedroom.

Rhysand lets his gaze linger for a few moments, his expression softening slightly as he watches you both. He eventually makes his way down the stairs, disappearing from view towards the rest of the group downstairs.

Azriel gently pushes open the door to your old bedroom, setting your bag down next to it, before following you in. Despite the lack of use, the room is clean and neat, bed and furniture still intact. Azriel glances at the walls, seeing the faint glow of Rhysand's wards.

You glance around, heart clenching at the fact that it remains untouched. "I hope it works," you say softly, eying the glow of the wards.

Azriel watches you take in the room, a small frown tugging at his brow. His gaze lands on your own, taking in your expression. "If it doesn't, we'll figure something else out," he replies, the words leaving his mouth in a soft, determined tone. 

You watch him silently for a moment, tilting your head to the side like you’re analyzing him.

Azriel raises a brow, his eyes roaming over your face, taking in the careful mask you’re placing on your expression. He crosses his arms, shifting on the balls of his feet. “What are you doing?” he asks, keeping his tone gently to not disturb the silence in the room.

"Wondering where this optimistic version of you came from," you mused quietly, the pain was still in your eyes though not nearly as prominent now that they were alone.

Azriel’s expression softens at your words, his own eyes looking you over. He takes a step closer, close enough to reach out and touch you if he could. “This version of me is always here,” he replied quietly, “usually you have to pay attention to see him.”

Your lips quirk up into a small, sad smile. "Bold of you to assume that I have never not paid attention to you."

He takes another step closer, his expression turning into one of seriousness, his gaze roaming over you. "Really? I recall quite a few missions where you blatantly ignored me." He takes yet another step, his body mere inches away.

You raise your hands, setting them against his chest, feeling the muscles flex slightly to adjust to your touch. "I'm very good at acting," you counter, his proximity making your heart race. Azriel bows his head down, lips lifting up into a slow smile.

“You think you’ve been the only one ‘acting’?” he asks lowly, hands coming up and resting gently on your hips. You gaze up at him, your breath catching your throat. "What do you mean?"

He pulls you flush against him, not answering you immediately, relishing in the way your breath hitches. He drops his gaze towards your face, taking you in. His gaze flicks over your lips, studying them like he wants to memorize them. His hands gently grip your hips tighter, as if trying to keep you from disappearing. He murmurs softly, "Are you telling me you truly didn't know I was always paying attention to every little detail about you?”

You take a deep, shuddery breath, attempting to keep it together under his gaze and touch. His nearness made your heart thunder and your mind grow light and dizzy. "I-" you try to speak but the words seem to get stuck. How do you tell him that you had noticed how he would pay attention to you, would sit right next to you during meetings or training, and would gravitate toward you in any room. You always had hoped for more than his friendship, but had seen his eyes on Mor on more than one occasion. You settled for keeping him as a friend, and thought for sure he’d despise you for leaving.

He squeezes your hips gently and his gaze flicks over your features, trying to read every expression in your eyes, every tremble. "It drove me to madness how I could never get you out of my mind. How I tried to forget the way your laugh sounded. The smell of you - wildflowers and rain..." He leans in, his nose nuzzling against your neck, inhaling slowly.

"Az," it's a broken, pleading sound that stops him, your hands shaking against his chest.

Azriel freezes, your voice breaking through the fog of wanting you. He takes a small, reluctant step back, his own body trembling. "I-" he starts, his eyes roaming your features, desperately trying to figure out what's going on in your head. What made you pull away from him when he had been so close to taking what he had always wanted. What he thought you had wanted.

"I can't do this," you say softly, your voice breaking. You turn away from him, pacing to the other side of the room. 

Azriel watches you, his eyes wide as you distance yourself from him. His hands fist at his side, wanting to grab you and pull you back to him. "Why?" he asks quietly, his voice strained.

You turn back around and look at him. "Because! Because I have been away for seventy six years! I haven't seen anyone from this family, the only people I can trust in the world, in that entire time. You have no idea how alone and scared I was out there. And now, I am completely terrified that I'm going to kill someone because of this power. I'm absolutely scared to death that I will lose you forever. My control is so close to slipping all of the time. I can't add you to that. I won't." You suck in a sharp breath, looking devastated. "I don't even know if this is you, or if this is my emotions affecting you."

Azriel's shoulders drop, his gaze pained and shattered, but filled with more emotions than you have ever seen before. Anger, pain, confusion, and fear. But also affection, desire, want. "You really don't know if this is me or emotions you've affected me with," he nearly scoffs, his voice a hoarse whisper.

You nearly flinch, your eyes watering, as you try to breathe through it. "I... I don't. I'm sorry," you whisper back weakly.

Azriel's throat tightens as he sees the tears in your eyes, and he turns, crossing the room, stopping at your door. He glances over his shoulder to speak, his voice low and gruff, his shadows swirling around him like they were agitated. "Get some rest. We will speak in the morning." He murmurs without looking at you again and slips out the door, closing it softly behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Tag list:

rcarbo1 zanaorian tiffany-xx goofygoeber annamariereads16 suppppp97 chaosabroad dallynjennasgirl

[crimsonfrostx]

[crimsonfrostx]

[crimsonfrostx]

A Road Well Traveled (Azriel x Reader)

Part 4

Word Count: 2107 Part 3 Part 5

Rhysand watches the pair as Azriel leads you away from the group, his expression tight with unease. Everyone around the table remains in heavy silence, the tense atmosphere replaced by a deep sense of worry and confusion.

You and Azriel step out onto the balcony, the cool night air enveloping you. Azriel guides you further from the windows and towards the edge of the balcony, shielding you from anyone who would try and listen in. The pair of you stand in silence for a moment, the only sound coming from the cicadas that chirped around the garden and your harsh breathing.

Azriel steps closer, his hand carefully wrapping around your waist and pulling you into him. He knows you're moments away from losing control, the power radiating off your body and consuming you bit by bit. You step into his arms, your form rigid and still. Inside, the power had pulled away from the table, leaving the group able to breathe easier.

Azriel tightens his grip on you, his hands gently rubbing circles on your lower back as he tries to ground you. "Calm down," he murmurs softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "You need to calm down."

"I can't, " you ground out, your hands gripping his leathers tightly. Azriel presses you closer against him, his hold on you unyielding. "Yes, you can," he insists, his voice firm. "You need to focus on your breathing. In and out, slowly." 

You try, breathing in deeply, and exhaling through your mouth. Your body still tense, and on edge. Azriel's hand moves from your back to your chest, placing it gently over your beating heart. "One breath in, one breath out," he whispers softly, his own breathing steady. "Match your breathing to mine."

You continued to listen to his voice, the feel of his heart and heat from his hand all grounding you and easing the turmoil swirling inside you. Azriel continues to hold your gaze, his own breathing steady and even, guiding you through each rise and fall of his chest. "Good, that's it," he encourages, his hand still pressing gently against your heart. You breathe slowly, the power around you sighing and releasing its hold. 

"That's it," Azriel murmurs, his voice soothing as he feels the air around them shift, the weight lifting. He continues to guide your breathing, his grip around you shifting to hold you closer. You close your eyes for a moment, taking in one last deep breath. When your eyes open again, the darkness fades, something Azriel picks up on immediately. Azriel's grip relaxes slightly as he sees your eyes return to their normal brightness. "Are you back with me now?" he asks softly, his voice still calm and steady.

You nod wordlessly, stepping out of his arms, and instead holding yourself, like it would help hold you together. Azriel lets you go but doesn't step away, his hand still remaining on your waist. "What happened in there?" he asks, his gaze flickering across your face, searching for any signs of the anger that had consumed you moments before. 

You’re silent for a moment, looking up at him, wondering if he would kick you out once he found out the truth. You wouldn’t survive the heartbreak, even if you would understand. “This…power manifested shortly before I left. It’s why I left in the first place,” you admit softly, thinking of the best way to explain it. “It’s like…my emotions are explosive, and it doesn’t just stop with me. It affects others around me. I think Cassian was easily influenced by it, and we reacted to each other because of it…” you trailed off, eyes shifting to look anywhere other than those worried hazel eyes.

Azriel watched you, taking in your words with a quiet thoughtfulness that put you more on edge than normal. When he still didn’t say anything, you broke, not being able to take it anymore. “Please, say something, Az. Kick me out, call me a monster, or something!” you shake as you try to meet his gaze.

"What?" Azriel's expression turns puzzled, his hand twitching against your waist. "Why would I do that?" He sounded genuinely confused, like those thoughts had never entered his mind. You blink, realizing you know better than to assume Azriel would judge you like that. He has never before, and something tells you that he wouldn’t start now. 

“You…Don’t you think I’m a ticking time bomb? I could hurt this family. Hurt you…” you trail off, the thought becoming unimaginable, but a nightmare you’ve had more than once over the years.

Azriel's expression softens, his thumb beginning to draw soothing circles into your waist. "You're not a 'ticking time bomb'," he argues gently, his grip on you firm. "You're a warrior who is struggling to control her powers. That is all."

"I've been away for 76 years, Az. If I haven't controlled it yet, what makes you think I even can?" You argue, brows creasing. Azriel's expression hardens at your words, his grip on your waist tightening. "You're not giving yourself enough credit," he says firmly, his gaze never leaving yours. "You've made it back and you made it through dinner. I know you can control it."

"I can seriously hurt people with this, Az. Nyx is too young. I can't be around him," you were thankful, yet, you couldn’t understand why Azriel couldn’t see the danger. He was the spymaster, and a warrior of the court. He should be putting the safety of those he’s been charged with protecting. Yet, here he is. Comforting you with words of encouragement.

Azriel's expression softens, his hand moving up your torso to cup your cheek. "But you didn't hurt anyone," he points out gently, his gaze roaming over your face. "You did a wonderful job tonight. You have better control than you think."

"I don't know," you grumble, side glancing towards the dining room. "I could have throttled Cassian in a second flat.” Azriel chuckles softly, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. "But you didn't," he points out, his expression filled with a hint of pride. You shake your head and sigh, your shoulders slightly dropping. "Still, I think I should call it a night." The less time you had around them, the less of a chance someone would get hurt.

Azriel forces his expression into neutrality, but you can see it, the hurt beneath his hazel gaze. “You’re going to leave? Just like that?” His hands drop away from your face and he steps back, the space between them feeling vast.

"Small doses around everyone should be for the best for now." You explain, swallowing around a lump in your throat at the sound of his voice. You had noticed it earlier, and even now. Azriel was buzzing with energy, his hands beginning to clutch at his sides. He was anxious. 

A flicker of annoyance flashes in Azriel's eyes for a brief moment. "And what if I disagree?" he counters, his gaze narrowing. You gazed up at him, eyes narrowing. "All do respect, Az. I do know what I'm capable of. I'm not saying goodbye. I'll stay in the city. I doubt my apartment is still under my name, so I might grab a room at an inn."

Azriel’s eyes darken and he takes a step forward. You tense, never having feared the shadowsinger. Like hell you were going to start now. “You’re not staying at an inn,” he says lowly, a tone of voice he’d never use on you.

“Az, what the hell is going on with-” You start, only to be interrupted by his arms going around you, caging you against him. “You’re not staying at an inn, and that’s final.” He all but growls, and your eyes narrow. You plant your feet and push him harshly, watching him stumble away. You open your mouth to give him a piece of your mind when you go still. Cursing under your breath, you take several steps away from him.

“I’m doing this,” You mutter, trying to breathe like how Azriel showed you moments before. Azriel’s furious gaze slowly shifts to confusion. “Doing what?” 

You sigh and throw your hands up. “This! You!” You wave towards him. “I was wondering why you were being an ass,” you murmur, bowing your head and thinking. You had to stay away from them, until you could control your emotions at all times. Maybe Helion had a way to lock up that power inside you. You for sure didn’t want it.

Azriel looks confused and mildly disoriented, like being told it wasn’t his emotions was enough to get through to him. “I didn’t even notice,” he murmurs and you want to cry at the look on his face. You couldn’t do this to him. 

He takes a shaky breath, his gaze flickering between you and the garden beyond the balcony. "I..." He starts, but the realization of what just happened, the fact that he was influenced by your emotions, clearly shook him. It broke your heart.

You continue to step further back on the balcony, hoping some space would help. If you could affect someone like Azriel, who was in control of his emotions almost to a fault, then no one had any hope around you.

Azriel takes a step forward, his hand outstretched towards you, but he stops himself. He looks torn, conflict flickering in his eyes as he struggles to keep his distance. "Don't," he warns softly, his voice strained.

"Az..." You shake your head, your chest tight as he looks at you like you're about to disappear forever. He takes another step forward, his hand dropping back to his side. "Please," he murmurs, his eyes begging you to stay.

"You can't help me control it if I'm affecting you too! I thought being with my family, being with you again would help me, force me to control it! But, I can't put you in danger all the time. I just got here, and look what's happened!" Your voice rises in frustration, pointing towards the window leading into the dining room.

Azriel closes the remaining distance between you, his hands grasping your own. "You're not putting me in danger," he insists, his voice firm but gentle, "I can handle it."

You look up at him, warmth and affection and utter defeat rushing through you. Your eyes glisten with unshed tears, as your body trembles. "I can't," your voice breaks. Even the thought of something happening to Azriel because you can't control your own emotions sends a devastating sense of hopelessness into your heart.

Azriel's expression softens further, his hands tightening around yours. "You don't have to face this alone," he murmurs, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin and stepping closer to you, "You have your family - me. Let us help you."

You let out a shaking breath, closing your eyes and using his touch to ground you. He brought a sense of peace over you, always has. Maybe the only shot you had at controlling this was with him and your family. You find yourself slowly nodding, squeezing his hand in yours.

The sense of relief that spreads over him is visible on his face. "Good," he murmurs, his eyes roving over your face, committing every detail to memory. "You will stay here, with us, and we will figure this out. Together."

“Only way I’m staying here,” you start, eyes opening and gazing up at him with a firmness, “is if Rhysand wards my old bedroom. I don’t want my power affecting someone when I’m in there.”

Azriel nods firmly. "I'll speak to Rhys. He'll ward your room as well as the common rooms of the house, so that should help." He brings one of your hands up to his chest, his heart beating steadily under your palm. "And when it's just the two of us?"

"I don't know," you murmur softly, eyes drifting to where he holds your hand to him. "Set a time limit on how long we’re together, I suppose," you think out loud.

Azriel considers the suggestion, his expression hardening slightly at the thought of setting limits on your time together. "Fine," he relents, his hand still firmly holding yours. "We'll start with short periods, and work our way up from there." 

You sigh, leaning forward and resting your forehead on his chest. "I'm going to have to tell them," you mumble. Azriel's body relaxes at your touch, his arms encircling you and pulling you flush against him. "You are," he replies gently, his chin coming to rest on top of your head, "You'll tell them everything, and we'll work through it. Together."

[crimsonfrostx]

A Road Well Traveled (Azriel x Reader)

Part 3

Word Count: 2028 Warnings: Anger, mild language Part 4 Part 2

Cassian's grin falters, his expression softening at your apology. He rubs a hand over his face, the excitement now replaced with a hint of remorse. "Oh, come on," he groans, walking over to you. "Don't do the guilty act. You know it doesn't suit you." He slowly pulls you in for a hug, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. You wrap your arms around him tightly, hoping they couldn't see how close to breaking you really were. The thickness in the room dissipated slowly, but never fully. "You really are a pain in my ass, you know that?" he mutters, resting his chin on the top of your head.

Amren hums, catching your attention as you release Cassian and turn towards the strange, small female. "Amren. You seem...different," you say carefully, unsure how to explain it. Amren raises an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth tilting into a slight smirk. "Different? Is that your way of saying I've lost my touch, girl?" she asks, her voice smooth and slightly mocking.

You grin slowly. "I would never," you say earnestly.

Amren's smirk widens into a rare smile that reaches her eyes. "I always knew I liked you for a reason," she replies, her gaze flickering over your form. "You are different, as well, are you not?" she observes, her eyes narrowing. 

You tense, your own eyes narrowing. "That's enough, Amren," you say, voice firm. Fear had never ruled over your relationship with Amren, and it wouldn't start now.

Amren holds your gaze for a moment before nodding slightly, recognizing the firmness in your voice. She had a strange relationship with you, one built upon harsh words and respect, but not friendship. "Very well. But remember, I see through your facade," she replies softly, her silver eyes glinting with a knowing look.

You purposely ignored Azriel’s searching gaze, stepping away from the table. You glanced towards the last two strangers you hadn't yet greeted. "You must be Nesta," you eye the fierce looking female seated next to Cassian. Then, you meet soft doe eyes across the table. "Making you, Elain."

Nesta’s sharp, grey-blue eyes narrowed as they fixed upon you, her gaze assessing you carefully. She offers a slight incline of her head, a sign of acknowledgment, but her expression remains guarded. Elain, on the other hand, offers you a gentle smile, her warm, doe-like eyes filled with curiosity. "Yes, I'm Elain," she replies softly, her voice carrying a soft, velveteen undertone.

You open your mouth to say something when Rhysand tilts his head. "Incoming," he warns, his voice warm with affection. A young boy with small bat-like wings comes sprinting in, arms spread wide and barreling into his father. Your expression melts at the youngest and newest addition to the family.

The boy, Nyx, hugs his father’s legs, his wings spread wide and batting at the air as he giggles uncontrollably. Rhysand effortlessly lifts the young boy up into his arms, chuckling warmly as Nyx clings to him. Cassian snorts a laugh, a fond smile on his face as he watches the father and son. "That boy is going to be a nightmare, just you watch," he mutters.

You take small steps forward, eyes latched onto the boy who looked just like Rhysand. "I have missed too much," you murmur softly. You had always promised to stick by your family, had late night discussions with Mor about how you would spoil any child born to this chaotic group. 

Rhysand turns towards you, his gaze softening as he takes in your expression. "You're here now," he replies, a faint hint of sadness in his eyes, knowing how much you missed their lives after leaving. Nyx, noticing you for the first time, turns his head, his wide blue eyes studying your face curiously. "Who 'at?" he asks in a small voice, pointing a chubby finger at you.

Rhysand chuckles softly, a loving smile on his face as he turns Nyx to face you, holding him up in the air in front of you. "This is an old friend, Nyx. She went away for a while but has finally come home." Nyx stares at you with wide eyes, his curiosity piqued, then looks back at his father. "But why?" he asks, his small wings flapping gently as he tries to get a better look at you. You can feel your heart break slowly at the little boy's question.

You can feel everyone’s eyes back on you, and you think you’d run out the front door if it didn’t look like Azriel would catch you within the first 30 seconds. Rhysand’s expression softens, sensing your pain. He strokes Nyx's soft black hair, trying to figure out how to answer his son’s question. “People have to go away sometimes, buddy," he starts gently, tilting Nyx's face up towards him. "Sometimes they need some space or to find new adventures." 

Rhysand's gaze flicks over to you, his expression shifting to a mixture of understanding and sadness. "But they always come back eventually," he continues, his tone hopeful. Nyx stares at Rhysand for a moment, his youthful innocence struggling to comprehend the concept. He turns his head back to you, his gaze fixated on your face. "You back now," he says, his small wings flapping again.

You nod slowly, a sad smile gracing your face. "I am," you confirm softly, stepping close and rustling his black hair. Nyx's tiny wings twitch with excitement as you brush your fingers through his hair, a wide smile spreading across his face. "Stay again?" he asks innocently, reaching a small hand out to pat your cheek.

You feel your chest ache painfully, and you nod quickly, eyes glancing up to Rhysand before looking around at the important people in your life, and the fresh additions. “I’m not going anywhere,” you state, eyes pausing on Azriel’s hazel orbs.

Nyx's face lights up with joy at your acceptance, his small hand still resting on your cheek. "Yay!" he squeals, flapping his wings even more vigorously. Rhysand chuckles, giving you a small nod in acknowledgement of your declaration. “You always have a home here,” he says, voice tinged with warmth and understanding. 

You pull away, breathing in harshly like you’ve been deprived of oxygen. You retreat completely and round the table, stepping back towards Azriel and the entrance. "I brought wine! I don't know if it's up to your standards, but I know it's strong!"

You could feel their eyes on your back as you rushed into the next room and towards your bag by the front door. Pausing, you debate on leaving now, before you have the chance to panic again and mess everything up. A shadow twirls a piece of your hair and you glance back to the entrance of the dining room to find Azriel watching you carefully, his eyes filled with concern. Hand raised in a wave, you turn back and breathe slowly through your nose and open your bag, grabbing the bottle of wine you had packed on a whim. You couldn’t abandon them after declaring that you wouldn’t leave again.

You turn and walk back to the dining room, passing an expressionless Azriel who’s eyes never once left you. Raising the bottle in one hand, you wiggle it a little. “I return bearing gifts!” You declare loudly, proud of yourself for not shaking like a leaf.

Cassian lets out a low whistle, his gaze flickering between you and the bottle you’re holding. "You never fail to show up unannounced and bearing gifts," he says, his tone lighthearted. Feyre chuckles softly, eyeing the bottle curiously. "What’d you bring?" she asks curiously, her gaze flicking to Rhysand, who seems to be carefully observing you and taking his seat with Nyx on his lap.

"I picked it up at the local inn on the main continent a while ago. The locals wouldn't stop singing its praises so I bought a couple of bottles. It's like...strawberries. Fancy strawberries. "

Cassian's interest peaks at your words, his eyes widening. "Strawberries?" he repeats, an intrigued grin spreading on his face. "You got my attention," he says, his gaze fixed on the bottle. "I didn’t think I’d ever see the day where you brought a quality drink."

You wrinkle your nose. "I pick good drinks," you argued, passing the bottle to Mor to do the honors of pouring it around. Mor takes the bottle, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "I swear to the Mother, if this tastes like piss I’m going to laugh in your face," she mutters, pouring the drink into each wine glass presented.

You shake your head with a grumble, dragging Azriel to the table and taking a seat by Elain and Azriel on your other side. Azriel allows you to drag him to the table, his expression neutral but his gaze never leaving you.

Mor hands the glasses to the different members of the table, her gaze flickering to you with amusement before taking a small sip of the drink. "Not as piss worthy as I anticipated," she muses, taking another few sips. Hums of agreement sound from around the table, you take a sip and you sigh at the sweetness coating your tongue. “I told you I bring good drinks,” you grin, feeling smug at the line of faces that are clearly pleased.

Everyone relaxes into comfortable silence for a moment as they all begin to enjoy the drink. Cassian glances over at you from across the table, a small frown tugging at his lips. He can’t help but notice the tension still in your shoulders, despite the light conversation around the table. "You still look like you're ready to jump ship at any given moment," he comments, his tone lighthearted but his gaze betraying concern.

Your gaze jumps to his, and you force your expression to remain neutral. "I don't know what you mean, Cass." Everyone can hear the warning tone beneath it, eyes flitting between the two. 

He raises an eyebrow at your response, his gaze narrowing. "Oh, really?" he huffs, scoffing at your response. "You look like the wrong thing said will get the whole table stabbed," he says bluntly, but his gaze remains concerned.

Your eyes darken, feeling Azriel’s quiet presence beside you, shadows twisting around your hands. "Drop it, Cassian." Your voice firm, eyes darkening. Nyx holds onto Feyre with wide eyes, having been passed to his mother as Rhysand’s gaze sharpens at the scene before him.

Cassian pauses at your sharp tone, his eyes narrowing in frustration. He can see the warning in your eyes, the silent request to drop the conversation, but his worry gets the better of him. "You can't just show up after disappearing for 76 years and expect us not to have questions," he says, his tone growing impatient. You can’t blame him, knowing that you would have to come clean sooner or later. But his tone is getting to you, that dark power flaring to life within your chest and you feel like you’re about to snap, the air around you thickening.

"Cass," Azriel warns, feeling you coil tighter beside him. Your eyes flash, the room dimming. "I expect a single, peaceful evening with my family again." You growl slowly.

Cassian bristles, his hands clenching at the table. "And I expect some damn answers!" he growls back, not entirely his own temper, flaring. You stand slowly, your body tensing for a fight. An unnatural fear creeps around the room and Nyx whimpers. 

Rhysand's expression darkens as he feels the tension in the room thicken. His gaze flickers to your poised form, ready for a fight, and he intervenes quickly. "Cassian." His voice is low as he warns his friend to stand down, but his tone leaves no room for argument. Cassian looks over at his High Lord, his frustration replaced by a reluctant obedience. He lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping as he relents.

You don't feel the release of tension, Azriel carefully wrapping a shadow around your shoulders. You turn your piercing eyes to him, and he guides you with a hand on your back, wordlessly leading you away from the table and towards the balcony.

[crimsonfrostx]

[crimsonfrostx]

A Road Well Traveled (Azriel x Reader)

Part 2

Word Count: 1377 Warnings: Mild language, slight violence Part 1 Part 3

Azriel turns his gaze towards Mor as she appears around the corner, his hand still holding yours, grounding you in the present moment. You watch as Mor's gasp fills the air, her eyes widening in surprise. Azriel can sense your nervous energy, your sudden need to flee, but your hand remains tightly held in his as if to say, you’re not going anywhere. Not again.

You let out a nervous chuckle, meeting Mor's brown eyes. "Hey, Mor," you greet softly, waiting to see your friend's next move. Mor stands frozen in place, her eyes wide with surprise as she gazes at you. But a moment later, she lunges forward, her arms encircling you in a fierce hug. "Is it really you?" She exclaims, her voice filled with relief and joy. 

You release a held breath, letting go of Azriel's hand to wrap your own arms around the taller female, letting yourself feel the sweet relief of your friend's happiness at your return. Mor clings to you, her grip tight and possessive. "Where have you been?" she demands, her voice muffled against your shoulder. Mor pulls back slightly, her wide-eyed gaze roaming over your face, as if afraid you’d disappear if she looked away.

You smile sheepishly, pleasantly surprised that the sharp sting of jealousy from Mor's beauty never comes. "I've been traveling. Seen my fair share of the world now," the half lie comes out easier than expected. It was true enough, having seen breathtaking scenes that you could never hope to master in your sketchbook.

Mor leans back further, her hands still holding your shoulders as she studies your face, her gaze narrowing slightly. "Traveling, huh?" she muses, a hint of suspicion in her voice. But despite her questioning look, she grins, her earlier disbelief replaced with a glimmer of excitement. "You have to tell me all about it. Come on," she urges, grabbing your hand and tugging you towards the dining room.

You stammer, not getting a word in as you’re dragged along, Azriel trailing behind you as Mor leads you into the dining room. Six pairs of eyes land on you the moment your feet enter the room, and you’re sure you’ve stopped breathing entirely.

Cassian, Rhysand, and several unknown strangers' eyes all widen in surprise at your sudden appearance in the room, their expressions varying from shock to joy. For a brief moment, the room is eerily silent, only the crackling fire in the hearth providing noise.

Finally, Rhysand stands from his seat, his gaze taking in your form. "Well, I'll be damned," he breathes out, a stunned smile playing on his lips.

You slowly smile back, taking in his healthy appearance. You had left before he had been trapped Under the Mountain, the word of the Night Court's fearsome High Lord reached you. Stories of the war with Hybern followed not too long after. Standing before you now though, he looked good. Happy. A gorgeous female had been seated next to him, her curious blue eyes assessing you. That must be Feyre. You dip your head towards your High Lord. "Rhys. Happiness suits you, friend," you meet his violet gaze, smiling sincerely.

Rhysand's lips twist into a cocky smirk in response to your greeting, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. He gestures to the female beside him, saying, "Allow me to introduce my mate, Feyre."

Feyre, who had been quietly observing the interaction, smiles warmly and offers a polite nod in greeting. "It's nice to meet you," she says softly, her voice warm and gentle, a contrast to Rhysand's rough yet charming demeanor.

"Pleasure is mine, my High Lady," you bow your head, giving her the respect she rightly deserved from all you’ve heard. The reason why Prythian had been set free. Feyre's eyes soften at the gesture, a small smile playing on her lips. "Please, there's no need to be so formal," she says gently, her voice carrying a note of warmth.

Cassian snorts from his seat closest to Rhysand, his gaze roaming over you before settling on your face. "Formal? From the female who disappeared without a word for years. No letter, no sign, nothing. Sounds pretty informal to me."

Your smile fades as you meet Cassian's narrowed eyes. You hadn't expected him to be the one to hold a grudge against you. Though you couldn't blame him. "Cass," you greet softly, wary eyes holding his gaze. 

Cassian crosses his arms, his eyes narrowing as he studies you, a mixture of emotions flickering across his face. "Don't 'Cass' me. Where have you been, you little shadow of a fae?" he demands, his voice gruff and tinged with annoyance.

Rhysand and Feyre exchange a glance, noticing the tension between you and Cassian. Even Azriel remains motionless, his gaze fixed on the interaction. The female next to him, you assumed Nesta, grabbed her wine glass and sipped with a hint of excitement. Amren watched from the other end of the table, not having said a word since you’ve entered.

"I've been around," you say carefully, lifting your head up. No matter how upset he was with you, he was one of your closest friends beside Azriel. He'd come around, you were sure of it. They all would. They’d understand.

Cassian huffs, his arms crossing over his chest. "Around, huh? Nice vague answer, really helps explain the past few years," he retorts, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Rhysand watches them both, a knowing look in his eyes. He glances at Azriel, noticing how his shadows seem to hover protectively around your form, silently offering support. Mor promptly picks up her wine glass, knowing the inevitable outcome.

"Don't think I still can't land you on your ass, Cassian," you say firmly, familiar power reeling up inside you. You had trained with them at a young age, knowing how to hold your own was an understatement. You had knocked each of the males around the table down a peg or two through the centuries. You had no problem doing it again.

Cassian's eyes narrow dangerously, his mouth pulling into a snarl at your comment. He leans forward, the gleam of challenge in his eyes. "Oh, really? You think you can still take me on, after all this time? After 76 years!?" he mocks, his gaze flicking to your curled fist.

You gave in to Cassian's provoking, leaning forward as your eyes lit up with that fury you kept such a tight leash on. "I can take you on with twice as much ease." The deadly seriousness in which you spoke heated the room. A strange darkness seemed to have settled over you, leeching throughout the room. Everyone felt the subtle twitch of fury spiking in their own bodies. Rhysand narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.

Cassian's smirk widened, his eyes glinting with excitement at your response. "Oh, really? You think you can beat me?" he taunted, his hand gripping the back of the chair tightly as he slowly stood. The others in the room remained silent, their gazes moving between you and Cassian, anticipating a potential sparring match. Feyre glanced at Mor and Amren, deciding to pick up her own wine glass, just in case.

You moved across the room in a blink of an eye, landing a solid blow upon his chest. His feet lift from the ground, before he's falling through the air and landing on his ass. You look down at him, the feral energy you’ve kept at bay for so long wrapping around you, making it hard to breathe as you narrow your fierce eyes.

Cassian hits the ground hard, a surprised grunt escaping him as he lands on his ass. He stares up at you, a mixture of shock and awe replacing the earlier annoyance and anger. A slow grin spreads across his face, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Not too bad," he says, pushing himself off the ground and dusting himself off. "I guess some things don't change." Rhysand and the others watch the interaction, their expressions ranging from surprise to amusement.

You blink, the power fading from your limbs just as quickly and you step away, looking nervous. "I'm sorry, Cass. I really am," you say softly. Maybe you shouldn’t have come back. You’re not ready.