floof-poof

[floof-poof]

IM ATTACKING U, MY LOVE U DECIDE TO BREAK MY HEART, MAKE ME CRY IN PUBLIC, KILL MY SOUL! YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY WITH IT!

(also pls yall, read this! It's actually amazing and my bestie ✨️COOKED✨️)

In The Shadow Of You - Azriel Shadowsinger

A/N: Girlypops I fear I’ve cooked with this one, apparently I can write now?? Longest fic to date!

T/W: Angst with a happy ending.

W/C: 11.7k

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“What…what are you doing here?” Eight-year-old Azriel stuttered at his two older brothers. His voice trembled, caught between fear and confusion. Their smiles were cruel, sharp like knives meant to cut.

The younger of the two moved faster than Azriel could react, and in a flash, he found himself pinned to the dirty ground of his cell, his small hands forced outstretched.

The eldest loomed over him, grinning with twisted satisfaction. “We’re conducting an experiment, little brother,” he said, his tone mockingly sweet. “And you’re going to help us.”

Azriel barely had time to process his words before it happened. Fire. Blinding, searing pain erupted across his palms, crawling up his arms like molten rivers. He screamed, hoarse and broken, the sound reverberating off the stone walls of his cage. He screamed until his voice gave out, until the smoke settled, and the flames were doused.

“It’s too late for your hands,” the healers told him afterward, almost casually, as if they hadn’t just destroyed something vital and irreparable. The gauze wrapped around his hands felt suffocating, an unbearable weight, and the agony robbed him of any reprieve. They left him there—crying, trembling, and utterly alone.

The pain kept him awake, tossing and turning on the filthy floor. Every shift in position was a new jolt of agony, every heartbeat a reminder of what he’d lost. He was trying not to sob when a voice broke through the dark.

“If you keep focusing on the pain, it’ll never go away.”

Azriel froze, stiffening like a cornered animal. The voice was soft, melodic even, but it didn’t belong. He shoved himself back against the cold wall of his cell, making himself as small as possible.

“Relax,” the voice said gently. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

It was then that he saw her—a girl, no older than him, standing just beyond the dim glow of the torchlight. Shadows clung to her like a second skin, weaving in and out of her form as if they were alive. They shaped her dress, her hair, her very presence.

“How did you get in here?” he asked, his voice a broken rasp. Why that had been his first question, he didn’t know.

She grinned, a mischievous tilt of her lips that didn’t match the bleakness of his surroundings. “I can get into anywhere I want,” she said simply, crossing her arms over her chest. The shadows rippled with the movement, and Azriel couldn’t look away.

“Do you like them?” she asked, beaming as she spun in place. Her shadows flared around her like an elaborate display.

He nodded dumbly. “Are they…shadows?”

“Yes, they are!” she said brightly. Then, her expression softened as she looked him over. “How’d you end up in here?”

Azriel recoiled at the question, his fragile defenses snapping into place. “None of your business,” he bit out. “Look, I don’t know who you are or how you got in here, but you need to leave before you get in trouble.”

She laughed—a clear, chiming sound that felt wrong in the darkness. “I guess you don’t want the gift I brought you, then.”

He blinked, taken aback. No one had ever given him a gift before.

“…What is it?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her grin widened. The cell darkened further, the air growing heavy with the press of shadow. A wind swept through the hall, howling like a warning. When the darkness cleared, Azriel could see her more clearly, her form sharper as some of her shadows seemed to have dispersed.

“Learn to use them well,” she said, her voice low and solemn now. “Become a Shadowsinger. I’ve given you the tools—you need to do the rest.”

Azriel’s heart pounded as the shadows around him seemed to come alive, whispering to him in a language he couldn’t yet understand.

“Wait!” he called out, scrambling to his knees. “What’s your name?”

She hesitated, her grin softening into something more sincere. “Y/N,” she said at last.

He nodded, clutching the name like a lifeline. “Mine’s Azriel.”

“I know,” she said softly. And then, as quickly as she’d appeared, the shadows consumed her, and she was gone.

When Azriel was eleven, he was dumped unceremoniously at Windhaven, an Illyrian war camp. He was already far behind the other boys, who could fly and wield weapons with ease. Meanwhile, Azriel could barely lift a blade.

His humiliation was swift and brutal. A boy much larger than him—Cassian, he later learned—knocked him to the ground with a single punch. Another boy, Rhysand, watched from a distance, laughing. Azriel hated them both instantly.

He lay sprawled in the snow, blood dripping from his lip, when he heard her voice again.

“Well, I think that went well,” Y/N said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Shut up,” he hissed, lifting his head to glare at her.

She circled him slowly, her shadows twisting around her. “You know,” she drawled, “if you worked harder with your shadows, they’d have warned you those jerks were coming.”

Azriel scowled, brushing the snow off his face. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see how you’re getting on.” She crouched in front of him, tilting her head as she studied him. “Apparently not well.”

He sat up, glaring at her. “I don’t know what you expect me to do.”

“Figure it out,” she said with a shrug. “You’re a Shadowsinger.”

“What does that even mean? What even is a Shadowsinger?” he demanded, his frustration boiling over.

Her gaze softened slightly. “You are,” she said simply. “You’ll figure it out.”

Branches snapped behind him, and Y/N’s expression shifted. “You need to befriend them,” she said, nodding toward the approaching boys. “And I need to go.”

Before he could stop her, she was gone.

Azriel’s bond with Y/N grew in fragments, scattered moments where she appeared unannounced, always leaving just as abruptly. She was a ghost in his life, a shadow that flitted in and out, giving him cryptic advice and disappearing before he could ask the questions that burned in his chest.

By the time Azriel turned fifteen, her absence felt heavier. She hadn’t visited in over a year, and he began to wonder if she’d ever been real at all. Perhaps she’d been a figment of his imagination, conjured by a desperate, broken child who needed someone—anyone—to pull him from the darkness.

But the shadows she’d gifted him were real. They whispered to him, wrapped around him protectively when he faltered. They showed him things he couldn’t see on his own. And yet, every time he reached for them fully, they pulled back, as if waiting for him to prove himself worthy.

Azriel sat alone on the outskirts of Windhaven, his wings aching from a day of relentless training. Cassian had beaten him—again—and Rhysand had laughed, though there was no malice in it anymore. They weren’t enemies anymore, not really, but Azriel couldn’t bring himself to call them friends, either.

He stared at his hands, the scars crisscrossing his palms a constant reminder of what he’d lost. The moonlight caught on the edges of his bandaged knuckles, and for the first time in a long while, he let himself cry.

“That’s a new look for you.”

The voice cut through the night like a blade, and Azriel’s head snapped up.

There she was, leaning against a nearby tree, her arms crossed and her head tilted in mock amusement. The shadows danced around her, as lively as ever, and he swore they seemed happy to see him.

He scrubbed at his face quickly, heat rising to his cheeks. “You’re back,” he said, his voice rough.

“I never left,” she said, shrugging as if it were obvious. “You just stopped looking for me.”

He bristled, the sting of her words sharper than he expected. “I didn’t stop looking,” he muttered, standing to face her fully.

“Didn’t you?” she teased, though her eyes softened. “You’ve been busy. Learning to fly, getting your ass handed to you in sparring. Very entertaining, by the way.”

Azriel clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. “Why do you do that?” he snapped.

Her brows lifted, her grin faltering. “Do what?”

“Disappear. Act like none of this matters to you. Like I don’t matter.”

The words were out before he could stop them, and the silence that followed was suffocating.

Y/N blinked, her expression unreadable. “Azriel,” she said carefully, stepping closer, “I—”

“No,” he cut her off, his shadows flaring around him, mirroring his frustration. “I’ve waited for you. For years. And you show up whenever it suits you, like I’m just some…some project to you!”

Her gaze flickered, and for a moment, he thought he saw guilt in her eyes. But it was gone just as quickly.

“I’m not your project,” he continued, his voice shaking. “I’m not…I’m not some broken thing you can fix and forget about.”

Y/N’s lips parted, but she didn’t speak. Instead, her shadows curled around her, dimming the space between them.

“I gave you the tools to survive,” she said finally, her voice quiet but firm. “I never promised anything else.”

Azriel felt the air leave his lungs, his chest tightening painfully. “Why?” he asked, barely more than a whisper. “Why did you save me? Why do you keep coming back?”

She hesitated, her shadows stilling around her. Then, with a sad smile, she said, “Because you remind me of someone I couldn’t save.”

It felt like a punch to the gut. Azriel stared at her, his throat dry, his heart hammering in his chest.

“So that’s all I am?” he choked out. “A replacement?”

She didn’t answer. She only stepped back, the shadows consuming her once more. “You’re stronger than you think, Azriel,” she said, her voice echoing as she vanished. “You don’t need me.”

But he did. He needed her more than anything, and as the silence settled around him, Azriel sank to his knees, his shadows curling around him like a shroud.

The years passed, and Azriel grew into his role as the Illyrian spymaster. The shadows became an extension of him, whispering secrets, cloaking him in anonymity, making him deadly. But with every mission, every battle, he found himself waiting for her. Searching.

Sometimes, she came.

She appeared the night before his first battle in the war. Azriel sat alone by the fire, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug, his shadows restless in the dark. He could feel the weight of the coming fight pressing on his chest, the fear he couldn’t voice clawing at his throat.

“Pensive as always,” came that familiar, teasing voice.

He nearly dropped his mug, whipping around to see her leaning against a tree. She hadn’t changed—she never did. The same sharp grin, the same restless shadows, but as she stepped closer, Azriel noticed something: she was now the same age as him. The years had caught up to her, and she looked as real and tangible as anyone else.

She met his gaze, and for the first time, Azriel found himself at a loss for words. She wasn’t just the mysterious, untouchable figure who had first appeared in his cell; she was a woman now, with fire in her eyes and a strength that matched his own.

“You’re late,” he muttered, though the relief in his voice betrayed him.

“Am I?” She crossed her arms, her smile faltering as she stepped closer. “You’ve grown,” she said, her tone softer now. Her gaze lingered on the hard lines of his face, the broadness of his shoulders.

Azriel couldn’t help but stare at her, his heart racing for reasons he couldn’t understand. He had always seen her as this untouchable being—someone apart from the world. But now, looking at her, something shifted in him. She was beautiful.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered before he could stop himself.

Her eyes widened for a split second, and for the briefest moment, Azriel saw her guard drop. Then she tilted her head, a small, knowing smile curving her lips.

“Finally noticing, huh?” she teased, her voice light but there was something deeper in her eyes. “Took you long enough.”

He cleared his throat, embarrassed by his admission. “Why are you here?”

“To remind you,” she said, crouching in front of him. Her shadows curled around her like a shield, as if they could protect her from the truth in her own words. “That you can’t protect everyone. That sometimes, no matter how hard you try, people die.”

The words hit him like a blow, and he flinched. “What kind of encouragement is that?”

“It’s the truth,” she said simply, standing again. “And it’s something you’ll need to learn if you’re going to survive this war.”

He stared at her, anger and hurt warring in his chest. “Is that why you gave me these shadows? To prepare me for failure?”

Her gaze softened, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she stepped closer, pressing a hand to his shoulder. “Live through tomorrow, Azriel. That’s all you have to do.”

And just like that, she was gone.

Y/N didn’t visit when he met Morrigan, but Azriel thought of her often. As he fell for Mor, captivated by her fire and fearlessness, a part of him wondered what Y/N would think of her. Would she approve? Would she mock him for falling for someone so unattainable?

The next time Y/N appeared, it was years later, after Mor had made it clear that her heart would never belong to him.

“She doesn’t deserve your devotion, you know,” Y/N said, materializing beside him one night as he sharpened Truth-Teller.

Azriel didn’t flinch this time, didn’t even look at her. “You don’t know her.”

“I know you,” she replied, tilting her head. “And I know she doesn’t see you the way you want her to. She never will.”

He slammed the blade down, his shadows flaring. “Why do you care? You disappear for years and show up just to remind me of everything I can’t have?”

Her smile faltered, her shadows stilling around her. “I care because I’ve seen this before,” she said quietly. “I’ve watched someone pour their heart into a dream that was never theirs to hold. It doesn’t end well.”

Azriel swallowed hard, her words cutting too close. “And what about you?” he asked. “What’s your excuse for running every time I need you?”

Her shadows tightened around her like armor, and she took a step back. “You’ve never needed me, Azriel,” she said, her voice cool. “You’ve always been stronger than you think.”

And then she was gone again, leaving him with nothing but his shadows and the ache in his chest.

By the time the second war began, Azriel’s heart was no longer tangled in Mor. Instead, it was pulled toward Elain—gentle, golden Elain, who looked at him with something close to understanding. She had never spoken of love, never promised him anything, but her presence calmed something in him. He found solace in her gentleness.

But Y/N’s presence still lingered, a phantom in his mind. She visited less frequently now, each appearance more fleeting than the last. Still, he thought of her as he prepared for war, wondering if she’d show herself one last time.

She did.

It was after the final battle, when Azriel had been struck down and left bleeding in the mud. He drifted in and out of consciousness, his thoughts consumed by Elain’s face. He imagined her by his side, her soft hands tending to his wounds.

When he finally opened his eyes, it wasn’t Elain sitting beside him.

It was Y/N.

Her hands trembled as they pressed against his wound, her shadows swirling erratically around her. Her face was pale, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“You’re awake,” she breathed, her voice cracking.

Azriel blinked, disoriented. “Y/N…?”

Her lip trembled, and she looked away, focusing on his bandages. “You almost died,” she said, her tone raw. “You stupid, reckless fool.”

He tried to sit up, but she pushed him back down, her hands firm against his chest. “Stay still,” she snapped, though her voice shook.

“Why are you here?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

She froze, her gaze locking onto his. For the first time, he saw the cracks in her armor—the grief and pain she’d always hidden.

“Because I’ve been here before,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “With someone I couldn’t save. I couldn’t… I couldn’t watch it happen again.”

Azriel’s heart stopped. “Who?” he asked softly.

Her shadows curled around her protectively, and she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

But it did matter. Because in that moment, Azriel realized that Y/N’s walls weren’t built to keep him out—they were built to keep her pain in.

“Y/N…” he started, his chest tightening. “What happened?”

She swallowed hard, refusing to meet his gaze. Her hand shook as it pressed against his wound. “It’s not you, Azriel. It’s me. I can’t lose anyone else.” Her voice cracked with the weight of unsaid words.

Azriel’s breath faltered as he reached up, gripping her wrist weakly. “You’re not losing me,” he whispered, trying to ease her trembling hand. His eyes searched hers, desperate to understand.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she murmured, her voice raw, but there was a flicker of something between them—something unspoken, something more than just the shadows between them.

He winced as pain lanced through him, but his focus never left her. “You’re afraid. I can see it, Y/N. What happened to you? What are you hiding from me?”

Her eyes flashed, and she jerked her hand away from him, stepping back as if she couldn’t bear to be near him. “I’m not hiding anything,” she snapped, but there was a tremor in her voice. “I’m trying to save you, Azriel. Just let me do this.”

He watched her, struggling to sit up once more, despite the pain gnawing at him. “I’ve never seen you like this,” he said, his voice soft, his gaze unwavering. “I’ve never seen you unsure. Never seen you afraid.”

She flinched at his words, but she didn’t look away. For the first time in all the years he’d known her, Y/N seemed human—fragile, vulnerable, as if she was teetering on the edge of something too painful to face.

“I’ve always been sure of one thing,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “That I couldn’t let you die like this. But maybe… maybe I was wrong. Maybe it’s just a matter of time.”

Azriel’s breath caught in his chest. “Don’t say that.”

But her eyes were distant, haunted, as if she had already seen the future he feared most. She took a shaky breath, forcing a smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Rest now, Azriel. I’ll be here when you wake.”

And despite the warmth of her touch, despite the care she showed him, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was already slipping away from him. That, no matter what, she would always be just beyond his reach.

The night was quiet—too quiet for Azriel’s liking. He had been staring at the ceiling for hours, unable to sleep, despite the comfort of the warm bed and the endless fussing from his family. Elain had been by his side all day, her delicate hands tending to him with concern, constantly checking his wounds and offering comfort, but it didn’t ease the ache in his chest.

The ache wasn’t from the physical pain, but from the lingering thoughts of Y/N—the girl who had been with him through so much, only to retreat into the shadows yet again. He hadn’t seen her since that night at the war camp, when she had pulled him back from the edge. His shadows were restless, whispering to him, and he felt an odd sense of longing for her presence.

As if summoned by his thoughts, he heard the faintest rustle in the air—the whisper of shadows—and then, the unmistakable warmth of her presence. He stiffened, his breath catching, his heart skipping a beat as the room seemed to shift around him.

And then, there she was—Y/N.

She stepped into the room so quietly that Azriel wasn’t sure if he was imagining it at first. But no, he could feel her—sense her—just as he always had, only there was something different. She didn’t look the same as she had before.

Her once abundant shadows, swirling around her with their usual energy, now seemed… muted. Faint. Almost like they were retreating into her skin, leaving her exposed in a way Azriel had never seen. Her usual wraith-like appearance, so fluid and untouchable, had softened. The shadows didn’t cling to her the same way. Instead, they hovered at a distance, as though afraid to touch her.

He noticed it immediately. It was subtle—almost too subtle for anyone else to catch—but to Azriel, who had always seen the world through the lens of shadows, it was glaring.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice catching in his throat as he studied her, trying to make sense of the change. His shadows hummed softly, picking up on the strange shift in the air around them. “What happened to your shadows?”

Y/N paused, the faintest hint of a wince passing over her features. She didn’t answer him right away, her gaze flickering down to the floor as if she was gathering her thoughts.

“It’s nothing,” she said, her voice tight. “I’m fine.”

Azriel frowned, unwilling to let it go. He was too perceptive, too attuned to the ebb and flow of shadows to ignore it. “You’re not fine,” he said, his voice firm despite the exhaustion weighing on him. “There’s less of them.”

Her eyes flickered with something that was either guilt or sorrow—it was hard to tell, but whatever it was, it made Azriel’s stomach twist.

She took a slow breath and approached the bed, her presence now as heavy as the shadows she had once carried so effortlessly. There was a shift in her energy, and the deeper he looked, the more he noticed. The scars on her skin were faint, almost imperceptible in the dim light, but they were there. They marred her otherwise flawless complexion, a delicate tracery of lines that seemed to be almost a part of her now—woven into the fabric of who she was.

Azriel’s breath caught. “What are those?” he whispered, his hand instinctively reaching out toward her arm.

Y/N flinched, though she didn’t pull away. She held his gaze for a long moment before she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “They’re nothing, Azriel. Just… remnants.”

“Remnants?” he echoed, his brow furrowing. “What happened to you?”

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she placed her hand gently on his chest, feeling for his heartbeat with a tenderness that sent a pang of something deep into his soul. She was always so careful, so careful of him, yet never letting him in. Not fully.

“I needed to hear it, Azriel,” she said, her voice soft, almost apologetic. “To know it’s still there.”

Her head rested gently against his chest again, her ear pressed to the steady beat of his heart. Azriel’s hand hesitated in the air between them, but then he settled it on her head, his fingers brushing her hair with a quiet tenderness.

“You don’t need to worry,” he murmured, though his voice wavered with the weight of his own concern. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Y/N didn’t respond, though she squeezed her eyes shut as if trying to hold back something. A tear, maybe, or something much heavier. She stayed there for a moment, listening to his heartbeat, as though it was the only thing in the world that could ground her.

Azriel’s eyes flickered toward the shadows around her once more. Now that he was closer, he could see it more clearly. They were less vibrant, more faded than before. He could feel the absence of something that had always been there. But it wasn’t just her shadows—it was her.

“Y/N…” His voice trembled with realization, and his hand reached out, his fingers brushing the faint scars on her arm. “You gave them to me, didn’t you?”

Her eyes shot open, wide and panicked for a fraction of a second before she regained control of herself. She pulled away from him quickly, as if to hide the truth that was written all over her.

But it was too late. Azriel had already seen the way the scars tracked down her skin, the way her shadows had diminished as though they were tethered to him. Her heart was in her shadows. She had given him pieces of herself.

She didn’t look at him, her gaze fixed on the floor as if she couldn’t bear to meet his eyes.

“How long?” he asked, his voice barely more than a breath. “How long have you been giving them to me?”

Y/N hesitated, and then, her voice low and filled with an unspeakable sadness, she answered. “Since the beginning. From the moment I gave you the gift of shadows. I knew you needed it to survive.”

Azriel’s breath caught in his chest. “But why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say something?”

Her lips trembled, and she took a step back, crossing her arms around herself as if the distance would protect her from his words. “Because I knew you wouldn’t let me do it. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to me, Azriel. I couldn’t risk you thinking you owed me something. I gave you the shadows because it was the only way to save you.”

Azriel’s heart shattered. “You’ve been giving me everything,” he whispered, his voice raw. “And I never even knew.”

Y/N didn’t look at him. Instead, she stared down at her hands, clenching them into fists as if trying to hold herself together. “It wasn’t for you to know. You just needed to live.”

Azriel reached for her then, his hands trembling as he pulled her closer. “I’m alive because of you, Y/N. I’m here because of you.”

She didn’t pull away. She let him hold her, and this time, Azriel couldn’t ignore the hollow feeling that gnawed at him—the knowledge that she had been silently, desperately giving parts of herself to keep him alive, even at the cost of her own well-being.

“You’ve given me more than enough,” he whispered against her hair. “I’ll spend my life making sure you don’t regret it.”

Azriel’s heart was still pounding, but it wasn’t from pain anymore. It was from the realization of everything Y/N had given him, everything she had silently sacrificed in the shadows to keep him alive. The weight of her unspoken devotion hung heavy between them, filling the quiet room with an intensity that neither of them could ignore.

They lay there for a long time, his chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths, while Y/N remained curled beside him, her head resting on his shoulder. The shadows that had once surrounded her so densely were now distant, fading into the edges of the room. It was like the air itself had changed, as though everything in their shared silence was leading to something unspoken, something fragile that neither of them dared to break.

Azriel didn’t know how long they stayed there, but it didn’t matter. In this moment, the world outside the House of Wind didn’t exist. It was just the two of them, sharing the same breath, the same heartbeat—nothing else mattered.

His hand found hers again, their fingers barely touching, but the contact sent a shiver through him. He could feel the warmth of her skin, the soft pulse of her blood beneath the surface. He could feel how much she had given, and how much he still didn’t understand.

He lifted his head slightly to look at her, and for the first time, he saw Y/N fully. He saw her not as the mysterious girl who had given him shadows, nor as the constant presence that always seemed to be there when he needed her. But as a woman—one who had loved him from the beginning, in the quietest, most selfless way imaginable.

His fingers gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. She didn’t pull away, and instead, she looked at him with eyes full of emotions she hadn’t yet shared.

“You’ve always been there,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “Even when I didn’t see you.” His gaze dropped to her lips, and something stirred within him. The air felt charged—heavy with everything they hadn’t said, everything they’d buried deep inside themselves.

Y/N’s breath hitched, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. She seemed to hesitate, her chest rising and falling in quick succession. Azriel couldn’t tear his gaze away from her lips, couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment—the one where everything was laid bare between them—was finally leading somewhere. Somewhere they both knew they needed to go.

Slowly, cautiously, Azriel leaned in. His breath mingled with hers, their proximity so close, he could feel the heat of her skin and the pulse of her heartbeat beneath his palm. He hovered there, just a breath away, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow. The shadows in the room held their breath, waiting for whatever might come next.

But then—

Bang!

The door to the room swung open with such force that Azriel and Y/N jerked apart, the moment shattered like glass.

Azriel’s heart dropped. Y/N, sensing the intrusion, didn’t hesitate. Before Azriel could even process what had happened, the shadows around her began to ripple and twist, pulling her into the darkness. She disappeared completely, leaving no trace of her presence behind, not even a whisper of shadow.

Azriel blinked, his heart still pounding in the aftermath, but he couldn’t understand what had just happened. She was gone, like smoke on the wind, and he was left alone, with the deafening silence echoing in his ears.

Elain stood in the doorway, her face flushed with concern. “Azriel! I heard you moving—what’s—” Her eyes flicked from Azriel to the now-closed door behind her, confusion clouding her expression as she searched the room. She had clearly heard someone, or sensed something—had she noticed the faint shift in the air? Azriel wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to risk it.

“I’m fine,” Azriel managed, his voice tight as he rubbed his face with a weary hand. His heart was still racing, but he forced himself to focus on Elain. “You can stop worrying.”

Elain stepped further into the room, her eyes softening, though a flicker of doubt still lingered in her gaze. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright, Azriel,” she said gently, crossing the room to sit beside him on the bed. Her hand settled on his arm, her touch warm and comforting, but there was a shift between them. Azriel could feel it—like a crack in the facade that neither of them was addressing.

Azriel didn’t want to acknowledge the absence of Y/N, the quiet ache that was left behind in her wake. It felt like a betrayal to even think of her now, when Elain was here, caring for him, doing everything right. But the gnawing emptiness in his chest wouldn’t go away. He had come so close to something—something he hadn’t known he wanted—and now it was gone.

“I’m fine,” Azriel repeated, this time with more force, trying to push aside the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He didn’t look at Elain, couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes. “Really.”

She smiled, though there was a hint of uncertainty in her expression. “You don’t have to be fine, Azriel. Not with me.”

Azriel nodded, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep pretending that everything was as it should be—especially when his heart still ached with the memory of a woman who had vanished into the shadows, leaving only the echoes of her love behind.

As the door closed softly behind Elain, Azriel sat there in silence, his heart heavy with regret, with questions that he knew would never be answered. He didn’t dare move, didn’t dare speak, as he tried to reconcile the absence of Y/N with the present reality.

The days that followed felt like a blur, with Elain at his side, her concern and kindness a balm for his wounds, but no matter how hard he tried to focus on her, his mind kept drifting back to the shadows—back to the woman who had given him life, but who would never be his.

The days blurred into one another, each one feeling the same as the last. Y/N stood in the shadows, as she had so many times before, watching Azriel from the distance. But this time, it was different. She watched him, not just as the silent observer she had always been, but as someone who felt the sting of every quiet touch, every soft smile he exchanged with Elain.

It was impossible to ignore, impossible to escape. There they were—Azriel and Elain—two souls who were drawn together by something so much more than Y/N could ever be. It hurt in ways that she didn’t understand, but every time they passed by her, lost in each other, it felt like a dagger piercing her heart.

Over the next few months, Y/N saw it all. She saw them taking their walks down the Sidra, Azriel’s arm casually draped around Elain’s shoulders as they strolled beneath the stars. She could hear their laughter, soft and shared, mingling with the sounds of the city. Their voices were always so low, so intimate, like they had a language of their own that Y/N could never hope to understand.

She watched them walk around the Rainbow, too. Azriel would lean in close to Elain, the two of them sharing whispered words as they gazed out over the city. Y/N could see the way Elain’s face softened in Azriel’s presence, the way his eyes seemed to linger on her, like she was the only one who mattered in that moment.

And then there were the small moments—those private, quiet exchanges that felt like they were meant for no one else. They would go to the bakery together, Elain picking out pastries while Azriel stood close beside her, his hand brushing against hers as they laughed over which cakes to buy. It was all so simple, so perfect, and Y/N stood on the edges of it, never invited, never included. She could only watch, her heart twisting with each passing moment.

She wanted to leave. She wanted to retreat into the shadows and never come out. But something held her there—something that made it impossible to look away. Perhaps it was the knowledge that she had given Azriel something so profound, something so intimate, yet he was looking for something else entirely. Something that she couldn’t provide.

As the Solstice approached, Y/N felt the weight of everything that had passed between them. The tension in her chest grew with every passing day. She had seen how Azriel and Elain had grown closer. She had felt it, too—felt the quiet ache that came with the realization that no matter what she had done, no matter how much of herself she had given, it would never be enough.

Solstice night arrived, bringing with it the cold chill of winter and the warmth of the city. The streets of Velaris sparkled with light, the stars above bright as they twinkled down on the festivities. Music drifted through the air, and Y/N found herself standing at the balcony once more, watching Azriel and Elain from the shadows.

They were together, of course, as they always were now. Azriel was laughing softly at something Elain had said, his eyes sparkling as he looked at her, and Y/N felt that familiar ache in her chest again. She didn’t want to feel this way. She didn’t want to be the one to stand on the sidelines, watching their happiness from afar. But she couldn’t help herself.

They were walking toward the balcony now, the noise of the celebration fading as they grew closer. Y/N hesitated, almost wanting to step away, but something kept her rooted to the spot. The air around them was thick with something unspoken, and she could feel it—the connection, the pull that had always been there between Azriel and herself, but now tangled up with Elain.

Azriel paused just beside her, his presence so close she could feel the heat of his body. He was still laughing softly, his gaze lingering on Elain with a warmth that Y/N couldn’t deny. And then, for a moment, the world seemed to stop.

Azriel and Elain were standing so close to one another, their bodies just inches apart. Y/N could see the way their eyes met, the soft, intimate look they shared. For a heartbeat, it was like time had stopped—just the three of them, frozen in that moment. Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat, watching the slow, inevitable progression of what she had known all along.

Azriel’s gaze flickered to Elain’s lips, and Y/N’s stomach churned as she realized what was about to happen. She wanted to turn away. She wanted to leave and never look back, but she was rooted to the spot, unable to escape.

Azriel leaned in slowly, his breath catching in his throat as he moved closer to Elain. Y/N could feel the pull, the tension in the air that seemed to crackle with anticipation. It was happening—he was going to kiss her. The kiss that Y/N had known was coming, but it still tore through her, nonetheless.

Just before their lips could touch, a voice broke through the stillness. “Azriel.”

Y/N’s heart started beating again as Azriel pulled back, turning toward the interruption. Rhys stood in the doorway, his voice firm, his expression urgent. “We need you. Now.”

The moment was shattered. Azriel stepped back from Elain, his gaze flickering to Y/N for a brief second, as if he could see her —just enough for her to see the flash of uncertainty in his eyes. But then, just as quickly, it was gone. He smiled at Elain, and Y/N watched as he walked away without a word, his attention turning back to Rhys.

Elain’s smile was still there, softer now, but there was a question in her eyes as she watched Azriel leave. Y/N could see it—the small crack in the perfect picture they had built. But it didn’t matter. Because when Azriel looked back at her, it was as if he had never seen her at all.

And with that, Y/N slipped back into the shadows, her heart heavier than it had ever been. She had hoped, for just a moment, that things could be different—that maybe, just maybe, Azriel would have kissed her that night. But the world was never that kind.

The moment Azriel left with Rhys, a heavy, uncomfortable silence settled over the House of Wind. Y/N had learned, over the years, to trust her instincts, especially where Azriel was concerned. When Rhys had summoned him, his voice sharp and urgent, her stomach twisted in response. They had been discussing something—something dangerous. Koschei had made a move, and Y/N’s heart had dropped when she heard that name. The Death God.

The city of Velaris was far behind them when Azriel ventured out of the court’s protected borders, heading toward the desolate lake where Koschei was rumored to be hiding. Y/N knew this place—Kochei’s lake was an eerie, forgotten expanse of black waters, known only for its unnerving stillness. The entire area gave off an aura of decay, both from the land and the whispers of ancient power that lingered there. It was as if the very earth around the lake had been poisoned, steeped in magic of the darkest kind.

The air was thick with the oppressive weight of Koschei’s magic as Azriel stood before the lake, his eyes scanning the dark waters, his wings poised in readiness. Y/N crouched low, her shadows swirling around her, blending into the darkness as she watched him, ready to intervene if she had to.

Koschei’s presence lingered just beyond the periphery, an unseen but unmistakable force. The Death God had been waiting for the right moment, and now, Azriel had walked right into his trap.

Azriel’s eyes narrowed, sensing something amiss, but before he could make a move, the shadows around him thickened, clamping down on his limbs, immobilizing him with an invisible grip. His body stiffened, his wings twitching in resistance, but the hold was too strong.

Y/N’s heart pounded as she watched, knowing that she couldn’t allow him to fall under Koschei’s control. She couldn’t let him be taken—history would not repeat itself.

But Koschei wasn’t after Azriel.

Not yet.

With a malevolent grin, Koschei stepped from the shadows, his cold eyes gleaming as he saw Y/N standing, powerless to act as Azriel struggled against the restraints. The Death God’s form materialized fully before her, his presence like a weight on her chest.

“Ah, Y/N,” Koschei’s voice was low, teasing. “I see you’ve brought your shadows with you. They’ve always been loyal to you, haven’t they?”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She stood her ground, though her heart raced in her chest. “I won’t let you have him,” she said, her voice hoarse but firm. “You won’t touch him.”

Koschei tilted his head, amusement flashing in his eyes. “You think you can stop me? I’ve waited for so long to take what’s mine.”

Before she could react, Koschei’s magic reached out, grabbing her by the throat and dragging her forward. She struggled, but his grip was unyielding, his fingers like ice against her skin.

Azriel’s voice, strained and desperate, reached her ears as he tried to free himself, but the shadows around him only tightened.

“Y/N!” Azriel’s voice was thick with fear, his shadows flickering in agitation as he fought against the restraints. “Get out of here! Please!”

But Y/N didn’t move. She couldn’t leave him—not when he needed her. Not when she was his only hope.

Koschei chuckled darkly, his hands tightening around Y/N’s throat. “You’re quite the puzzle, aren’t you? Always playing the hero, always throwing yourself into danger for others.”

Y/N gasped for air, but her eyes never left Azriel. “You can’t have him,” she said through gritted teeth, her voice full of defiance. “I won’t allow it.”

Koschei’s smile was cruel, his grip on her throat tightening further as he moved closer. “Finally, someone you’ll fight for,” he purred, his voice dripping with malice. “How touching.”

But Y/N didn’t falter. She could feel her shadows, the last of her magic, slipping away. She had to make her move now.

With every ounce of strength she had left, she reached out, sending the last of her shadows toward Azriel, her magic flooding into him. She could feel his strength return as the shadows wrapped around him, empowering him, protecting him.

“No,” Koschei hissed, his face twisted in anger. “You can’t do this!”

But Y/N didn’t care. She had made her choice. Azriel’s safety was her only priority now.

As the last of her power left her, she whispered, almost to herself, “You can’t have him. I won’t allow it.”

The words hung in the air, thick with finality, as her vision blurred. The shadows around her began to fade, dissipating into nothingness. Her body felt weak, her breath shallow. She had given everything.

Koschei let out a furious roar as he tried to push against her will, but it was too late. Azriel’s shadows surged around him, breaking his restraints, and with a powerful snap, the Death God was forced back.

Azriel had broken free.

Her body crumpled to the ground, the shadows that had once sustained her now gone, leaving her fragile and empty. She could feel her strength slipping away, her body fading into the cold grasp of death. But she had done it. She had protected him.

Azriel’s voice reached her again, frantic and full of desperation. “Y/N! No!”

Azriel’s blood boiled. His shadows had surged, fought back, but in the end, it hadn’t been enough. Y/N was crumpled at Koschei’s feet, her body barely breathing, her shadows gone, dissipated into the nothingness that Koschei had left in his wake.

His fists clenched, fury burning through him in a white-hot blaze. No.

Not her. He couldn’t lose her.

Koschei’s laughter echoed in his ears, and he could feel the Death God’s presence press against him, his dark power threatening to swallow him whole. “You think you can stop me?” Koschei taunted, his voice filled with venom. “You’ve already lost.”

Azriel’s wings snapped forward, his talons cutting through the air. The shadows around him gathered in a vortex of rage as he fought back with everything he had. Koschei tried to push against him, his power a suffocating weight, but Azriel’s determination surged higher. He wasn’t going to lose her. Not after everything. Not when he’d come this far.

With a brutal, final strike, Azriel’s shadows wrapped around Koschei, pulling the Death God away, slamming him into the earth. The battle was violent, brutal, the world around them bending and breaking under the weight of their fury. Azriel’s injuries didn’t matter. His exhaustion didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except her.

Azriel drove his shadow blades into the ground, pinning Koschei in place, and for a moment, everything was still.

But that stillness shattered when his eyes fell on Y/N.

Her form was so fragile now, the light of her presence dimming with every breath she took. The once-vibrant shadows that had defined her, that had been a part of her essence, were now nothing more than an echo.

No.

With a final, guttural roar, Azriel turned his focus to Koschei, slamming his power down upon the Death God. Koschei screamed, vanishing in a wisp of smoke, but the damage had been done. Azriel had won, but it felt hollow. It didn’t matter. He could feel her slipping away.

As he staggered toward her, blood dripping from his wounds, his heart clenched at the sight of Y/N’s frantic, desperate eyes meeting his.

“Y/N,” he breathed, crawling to her, reaching out to touch her, to anchor himself to her, even as his body screamed in protest.

Her breath was shallow, her eyes wide with fear, but there was no power left in her. The shadows had abandoned her. She had given everything.

Her lips parted, but she couldn’t speak. She was fading. The life that had once burned so brightly in her was now flickering out, and Azriel’s heart shattered with every passing second.

“Don’t you dare leave me,” Azriel whispered, his voice cracking. The panic rose in his chest like a choking wave, suffocating him.

He reached for her, cradling her in his arms, pressing his face to her forehead. “Please, don’t die. I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

Her eyes met his, but there was no recognition, no spark of the strength she had once had. Just… emptiness.

He leaned down, his voice breaking as he whispered to the shadows in desperation.

“Go back to her. Please… I need you. Keep her alive.”

He felt them—his shadows, the ones he controlled, the ones that were so much a part of him. But they didn’t move. They lingered, cold and unyielding.

But then, as if the very act of begging for her, for the one person who had been there for him in the darkest of moments, had unlocked something within the shadows, one tiny speck of darkness flickered into existence. It crawled toward her wrist, wrapping around it like a thread of hope.

Azriel watched in a stunned silence as the small shadow pulsed, then expanded, feeding life back into her, bringing her warmth, her pulse, her breath back.

Her eyes fluttered, and then—there—a faint spark, a flicker of recognition. Her hand moved ever so slightly.

Azriel’s breath caught in his chest as he pulled her closer, his face hovering inches from hers, his lips trembling. She was alive.

Her eyes opened fully, still filled with that same raw vulnerability, the same trust that had always been there. But now, the fear had gone. She wasn’t fading anymore.

“Y/N,” Azriel whispered, his voice rough with emotion. He pulled her into his chest, pressing his forehead against hers. “Never do that again,” he muttered, his voice a mix of relief and raw anger. “Do you hear me? Never.”

Y/N’s breathing was steady now, and though she was still weak, the shadows had returned to her—if only just enough to give her life again. And Azriel could feel the change in her, in him, as the bond they shared snapped into place.

A rush of warmth flooded through him, a sharp, undeniable connection that had always been there but now was more real than ever. His heart slammed against his ribs as he realized the truth.

She was his. And now, in the aftermath of everything, the mating bond had been forged between them.

Azriel held her tighter, his grip desperate, as if he were afraid she might slip away again. But she wouldn’t.

Not now. Not ever.

Azriel’s wings beat steadily as he flew through the cool night sky, cradling Y/N in his arms. Her breath was steady now, her body still fragile but alive. Alive because of him. Alive because of the bond they had finally accepted, because of the shadows she had given him, because of the sacrifices she had made for him time and time again.

He landed softly in front of the River House, the place that had always been home. Elain was there, as if she had been waiting, her concern etched on her face when she saw Y/N in his arms.

“Azriel—what happened? Is she—” Elain started, her voice filled with worry.

Azriel shook his head, a soft growl of frustration building in his chest. “She’ll be fine. But there’s something I need to tell you.” He stepped past her, carrying Y/N toward the bedroom where he had left her resting, the weight of the conversation he needed to have with Elain sitting heavily on his shoulders.

He laid Y/N gently on the bed and tucked the blankets around her, making sure she was comfortable. She stirred slightly at the touch, but her eyes stayed closed, her body still recovering from the ordeal.

Elain stood in the doorway, watching him with a mixture of concern and confusion. Azriel turned to her, his heart aching, knowing this was the moment he needed to speak the truth.

“Azriel… what happened?” Elain’s voice was soft but insistent.

He sighed, looking down at the floor for a moment before raising his eyes to meet hers. “Elain, there’s something I need to say.” He took a breath. “You’re kind, and you’ve been wonderful to me. But…” He hesitated, his voice breaking ever so slightly. “But I don’t feel the way I thought I did for you. You’ve been a friend to me, Elain. But there’s someone else.”

Her face softened, understanding dawning. But still, there was a sadness in her eyes, a quiet resignation that Azriel couldn’t ignore.

“I… I see,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She took a step back, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I always knew it wasn’t the same. But I’m glad you were honest with me, Azriel.”

Azriel stepped forward, his hand brushing hers in a gentle, reassuring gesture. “You’ll always be my friend, Elain. And I’ll always care about you. But… I’ve found something, someone else.” His voice hardened with emotion, a touch of bitterness slipping through. “And I owe her everything.”

Elain nodded, her lips trembling. “I understand. I just… want you to be happy, Azriel. I hope she makes you happy.”

Azriel gave her a final, grateful nod before he turned, his heart still heavy with the weight of what he’d just confessed. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her. But Y/N had always been his destiny—his heart, his shadows, his everything.

Azriel walked into the living room where Rhys, Cassian, and Feyre were gathered. He had just returned with Y/N, and his heart was still pounding from the emotions of everything that had just transpired. The weight of his words felt heavy, but it was time. Time to share everything with his family.

“There’s someone you need to meet,” Azriel said quietly, his voice filled with a mixture of anticipation and reverence.

Rhys looked up from the chair he was seated in, his brows furrowing in curiosity. “What’s going on, Az?” He stood, sensing the shift in his brother. The tension in Azriel’s posture was palpable.

Azriel nodded toward the bedroom door. “Come with me. I’ll explain everything.”

Without waiting for another word, Azriel led them down the hallway, his mind racing as he walked toward the room where Y/N had been resting. He paused before the door, taking a breath. This was it. The moment he had been dreading and longing for—revealing the truth about the woman who had always been by his side.

He opened the door gently and stepped inside, motioning for the others to follow. Y/N was lying on the bed, her body still fragile from the toll of the battle, but her breathing steady. She looked peaceful now, her form bathed in the soft light of the room.

Azriel turned to face Rhys, Cassian, and Feyre. “This is Y/N,” he began, his voice rough with emotion. “She’s… she’s the one who has been with me all along. The one who gave me everything—her shadows, her life—without question.”

Feyre stepped forward first, her eyes filled with concern as she looked at the woman resting on the bed. “What do you mean? What’s happened?”

Azriel’s chest tightened as he continued. “Y/N saved me. She saved me when I didn’t know how to save myself.” He swallowed hard. “I was a broken, lost soul when I first met her. I was drowning in the darkness, consumed by it. And she… she gave me her shadows. At first, I didn’t understand what it meant. But now, I see it. All of it. The sacrifices she’s made for me. The love she’s given, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

Cassian stepped forward, looking down at Y/N with a mixture of awe and respect. “What do you mean, she gave you her shadows? How? Why?”

Azriel’s eyes never left Y/N as he spoke. “She didn’t just give me her shadows. She became them. When she was dying, when she lost her first love, Koschei offered her a way out. A way to survive. She made a deal with him, traded her life for the power of shadows. And in return, she gave me those shadows, kept me alive when I was losing myself to the darkness.” He let out a bitter laugh. “I had no idea how much she was sacrificing for me.”

Feyre looked at Azriel, her expression filled with both admiration and sadness. “She gave you her life. She gave you the very thing that kept her alive.”

Azriel nodded. “She did. But it didn’t end there. After the first war, when I was still struggling with the weight of it all, she was there. She was always there. And when I needed her most—when I was losing myself to Koschei, to the darkness that had been trying to consume me for so long—she gave everything again. She gave me the last of her shadows.”

Cassian’s eyes widened as the weight of Azriel’s words sank in. “And now… now she’s like this?” He asked, gesturing to Y/N, still unconscious and fragile on the bed.

Azriel’s voice softened, a thread of emotion weaving through it. “Yes. She gave it all. The last of her shadows. She’s barely hanging on.”

Rhys stepped forward, his gaze never leaving Azriel’s face. “But she’s alive, Azriel. She’s here. And we’ll make sure she stays that way. She’s part of this family now, just like you.”

Azriel nodded, the emotions too much to contain. He approached the bed, brushing a stray lock of hair from Y/N’s face. “I won’t let her fade. Not after everything she’s done for me.”

Cassian stepped forward then, his voice thick with gratitude and something deeper—something unspoken. “Thank you, Y/N. For everything you’ve done—for Azriel, for all of us.”

Azriel’s heart clenched as he saw Cassian gently place a hand on Y/N’s wrist, the gesture full of reverence. It was clear that Y/N had already touched all of their hearts, even though she had never asked for anything in return.

Feyre, too, stepped forward, tears brimming in her eyes as she looked down at the woman who had given so much for her family. “I can’t even imagine the pain you must have gone through,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for saving him.”

Azriel turned to face his family. “She did what none of us could. She saved me. And I owe her everything.”

For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of Azriel’s words hanging in the air. Y/N was still asleep, but the shadows around her—slowly beginning to return—told the story of her sacrifice. And Azriel knew that he would never take that for granted again.

Finally, as the silence stretched on, Azriel leaned down to kiss Y/N’s forehead, his hand resting on her chest as if to keep her tethered to this world. He could feel the bond between them now, stronger than it had ever been, and he knew it wasn’t just the shadows that connected them. It was something deeper.

“Never again will you fight alone,” Azriel whispered softly, his voice barely audible. “You’ve given me everything. And I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never regret it.”

The warmth of sunlight filtered through the curtains, the soft scent of roses mingling with the earthy scent of the river outside. Y/N stirred, her eyelids fluttering as she slowly emerged from the fog of sleep. The weight on her chest, her heart, was lighter than before, though still heavy with everything that had happened.

She glanced down to find Azriel sitting next to her, his large form leaning back in the chair beside her bed, his gaze focused intently on her. His shadows whispered quietly, as if sensing her waking. His focus, however, was entirely on her.

“I needed to hear it,” Azriel murmured softly, his voice a quiet rasp, barely above a whisper. His hand rested lightly over her chest, just above her heart. His eyes searched her face, searching for any sign of distress. “Your heartbeat. It was the same as mine.”

Y/N blinked, her senses returning as her mind processed the words. She nodded slowly, trying to sit up but feeling the weight of exhaustion still hanging over her.

“Good to see you’re awake,” Azriel added with a small smile. “You’ve been out for three days.”

Before Y/N could respond, a loud knock at the door interrupted them, followed by the unmistakable sound of Cassian’s booming voice from the hallway. “Az, don’t think I haven’t been here for the last few days. We’re all concerned, and if you don’t let me in, I’ll come in myself.”

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound faint but genuine. “He’s quite persistent, isn’t he?”

Azriel grinned, his shadows flickering with amusement. “He’s worse when he’s worried.”

With a flick of his hand, the door creaked open, revealing Cassian standing in the doorway, a huge grin plastered on his face as usual. “You look better, at least,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Not that you could get any worse.” His tone was playful, but there was an underlying concern in his eyes as he entered the room.

Azriel laughed quietly. “You’ve been camped outside my door this entire time, haven’t you?”

Cassian shrugged, unbothered. “Someone had to keep an eye on you both.” He glanced at Y/N, then turned and left the room, only to return minutes later with a tray laden with food—and a large slice of cake. “I figured you might need a treat. You’ve been through enough, so cake it is,” he said, setting it on the bedside table.

Y/N chuckled softly, the smell of cake tempting her despite how tired she still felt. “You really do come bearing gifts, don’t you?”

Cassian winked at her. “I’m a man of many talents. And cake is my specialty.”

Before Y/N could respond, Rhys and Feyre appeared in the doorway, both looking at her with warm smiles, though Feyre’s eyes were filled with quiet curiosity and concern. Rhys took a few steps forward, his presence calm and steady.

“You’re awake,” he said gently, his tone full of warmth. “Good. We’ve all been worried.”

Y/N smiled weakly. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Feyre, who had been standing slightly behind Rhys, moved to the bedside, her eyes softening as she studied Y/N. “Azriel told us about everything. You’ve done so much for him.”

Y/N met her gaze, the weight of the unspoken history between them lingering in the air. “He’s my responsibility. Always has been.”

Cassian leaned against the doorframe with a grin. “You’ll learn quickly, like Feyre did. Once you’re part of Az’s world, you’re part of all of ours.”

Y/N nodded, her voice steady. “I’ve been with Rhys and Cassian for a long time. I’ve followed Cassian into battle more times than I can count. It’s where my scars came from—fighting beside him, making sure he made it out alive.”

There was a long pause as Rhys took a step closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed her words. “You’ve been with us… longer than we realized, then?” he asked quietly.

Y/N’s gaze softened, a faint sadness in her eyes. “I went after you, Rhys. When you were captured during the first war… I helped you. I helped free you. I did what I could.”

Rhys stared at her, his expression unreadable for a moment before it softened. “I never knew. I never realized…”

Y/N’s gaze dropped, and she hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “I’m sorry for what you went through under the mountain, Rhys. I tried to help you… as much as I could. I know it wasn’t enough, but I tried.”

Feyre’s eyes widened, and she glanced between Y/N and Rhys. “You helped him?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “How? I never knew.”

Y/N glanced back at Rhys. “You were important to Azriel. I couldn’t let you break.”

The words hung heavy in the air. Feyre, still standing near Rhys, gasped softly. “The music you sent me… it was you, wasn’t it? The same music that you sent Rhys?”

Y/N nodded quietly. “I couldn’t let Rhys break. He needed to stay strong. He couldn’t fall. Azriel needed him.”

Rhys, his gaze unreadable, looked at Y/N with newfound understanding. “You sent that music? All this time?”

Y/N simply nodded again. “I couldn’t let you lose yourself.”

There was a long, heavy silence, and Azriel could feel the weight of it as he watched Y/N open up in ways he hadn’t expected. He could sense the depth of her sacrifice, of everything she had done for him and for his family without ever expecting recognition or thanks.

Cassian’s deep voice broke the silence. “You’ve been doing all this for him… and for us?” His tone was thick with emotion now, and he stepped forward, placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “You’re a hell of a lot stronger than any of us gave you credit for.”

Y/N’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “I did what I had to do.”

Azriel watched her, his heart swelling with the quiet pride he felt for her. She had given so much of herself, had fought so hard to protect them all, and yet, she never asked for anything in return. It had always been about him—about Azriel.

Feyre stepped forward, her hands shaking slightly, and before anyone could stop her, she wrapped Y/N in a tight hug. “Thank you,” Feyre whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You’ve done more than we’ll ever know. Thank you for being there—for him. For all of us.”

Y/N stiffened at first, clearly not used to such displays of affection, but after a moment, she relaxed into the embrace. “I never expected thanks,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion as well. “But… you’re welcome.”

Azriel stood by, silent, watching the family he had once only dreamed of accepting her as one of their own. She had always been by his side, fighting, protecting. Now, she was truly part of his world, part of their world.

As Cassian, Rhys, and Feyre stood together in the room, Y/N smiled faintly, her heart full. She was finally seen. Finally home.

Cassian, Rhys, and Feyre, having shared their heartfelt thanks and goodbyes, stood in the doorway for a moment longer, watching the connection between Y/N and Azriel before they left.

“Get some rest, you two,” Rhys said gently, his eyes full of understanding. “We’ll see you both later. And if you need anything—anything at all—don’t hesitate to ask.”

Cassian gave a wide grin, his voice light as usual, though the affection in his tone was unmistakable. “Take care of each other,” he said, with a wink at Y/N. “We’ll save the cake for when you’re feeling better.”

Feyre’s gaze softened. “We’re here for you, Y/N,” she added quietly. “You’ve been through so much. Take the time you need to heal.”

With that, the three of them departed, leaving the two of them alone in the quiet of the room. Y/N’s gaze followed them for a moment before her tired eyes turned back to Azriel, who was still sitting beside her. He hadn’t said much since they’d all left, his presence quietly constant as always, but there was a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before—something she hadn’t allowed herself to see in the years they had known each other.

As the door clicked shut behind them, she gave him a small, but honest smile. “I’m glad they came by,” she said softly. “It’s strange, having people around again.”

Azriel’s smile was small but warm, his voice full of affection when he spoke. “They care about you. They’re grateful for everything you’ve done for us all.”

Y/N nodded, but there was a quiet sadness in her eyes. “I’ve never asked for anything from them… but they’ve all given me so much already. I don’t know if I deserve it.”

Azriel’s hand reached out to gently cup her face, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek as he spoke softly, his voice thick with emotion. “You do deserve it. More than you know.”

There was a long, quiet pause as they shared a gaze, the weight of everything that had happened, all the shared moments, the sacrifices, and the unspoken love, pressing in on them. It was as though they had finally, after all these years, found a breath to share between them—a breath that was both long overdue and infinitely worth the wait.

Y/N swallowed, her heart racing in her chest as she looked at him, truly looked at him. “Azriel,” she whispered, her voice unsteady. “Please stay. I don’t want to be alone.”

His gaze softened, his expression tender as he nodded. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised quietly.

Without another word, Azriel slipped into the bed beside her, carefully maneuvering his body so that they were close but still mindful of her fragility. She shifted slightly, her hand reaching for his, intertwining their fingers. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked up at him.

Azriel gazed back down at her, his lips parting as he leaned closer, their faces inches apart. He searched her eyes, as if asking for permission, as if he needed her to know how much she meant to him before he closed the space between them.

Y/N’s breath caught as she looked up at him, her chest tightening with emotion. She could feel the bond between them, the connection they had shared for so long, but now it was something more. Something she had longed for but never allowed herself to fully feel.

With a soft exhale, Azriel finally closed the distance, brushing his lips against hers in a kiss that was soft, gentle, but full of everything they had never said. It was a kiss of unspoken words, of everything they had endured, of everything they had fought for. It was a kiss that told the story of their connection, of love and loyalty, of battles fought both internal and external. And most of all, it was a kiss that told the story of their future—a future that they would face together.

When they pulled away, both of them breathless, Y/N’s eyes were wide, her heart racing as she looked at him. “I love you, Azriel,” she whispered, the words finally escaping her lips as her heart overflowed.

Azriel’s voice was low and gravelly, full of emotion as he answered, his hand brushing the hair from her face. “I love you too, Y/N. I’ve always loved you.”

And as they lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of everything that had come before seemed to fall away, leaving only the quiet comfort of the present. In that moment, there was no past, no war, no shadows. There was only the two of them, together, finally allowing themselves the peace they both so desperately needed.

And as they fell asleep, tangled in one another, the world outside could wait. For once, everything was as it should be.

[floof-poof]

Four Years - Fenrys Moonbeam

Y/N and Fenrys had an on again off again relationship from the moment they met in Skull's Bay until the end of the war when she disappeared, four years later he finds her and his peace.

W/C: 2K

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Y/N?" You froze, you'd know that voice anywhere, Fenrys. The male that owned more of you than he was even aware of. Your heart kicked in your chest as you scanned the windows of your little cottage before turning to face him. "Hello, Fenrys." His face broke out into that dazzling smile of his as he rushed towards you, sweeping you into his arms and spinning you around. "I can't believe I found you." He breathed into your hair. "You've been this close the whole time." You cringed. "You've been looking for me?" You asked him, praying the cottage door stayed closed. "Of course I have, since the moment I knew you'd left." You studied his face. "Four years? You've been looking for me for four years?" You breathed out, your lungs felt like they weren't working and your heart was racing. You'd longed for him every night, in the darkness of your room, by the time morning rolled around you'd convinced yourself leaving was the correct thing.

"Can we talk?" He asked, you'd never really seen him unsure of himself, not when you were concerned. "About what?" He couldn't come into the cottage, that you would not allow. "Why you left? Why you ran from me?" His eyes betrayed him and showed you exactly how much you had hurt him by leaving. It was the right thing to do, he deserved better than what you could give him. "It was the right thing to do, the war was over, it was time to move on, find somewhere to settle." He flinched. "I'd have come with you-" You cut him off, "I couldn't let you do that." His face was full of confusion. "Little one, I'd have followed you anywhere." He told you gently as he cupped your face, wiping a tear from your cheek that you hadn't even realised had fallen. "What happened that scared you so much that you ran from me?" You were about to open your mouth, lie to him, tell him you'd met someone else during the war, but the cottage door swung open and you were cut off, "Mama!"

Fenrys froze, withdrew his hand from your cheek, then tensed, his eyes shot over your shoulder, taking in the little blonde girl running towards you. "Mama?" He all but whispered, there was no denying it, so you nodded. "Yes." The little girl skidded to a stop next to you and thrust her hand towards Fenrys. "I'm Freya!" She grinned a toothy grin at him. Fenrys shot you another look before he sank to his knees and took her hand, and kissed it like the courtier he is, "It's lovely to meet you, Miss Freya, I'm Fenrys." She gasped at him, "That's like my name!" He chuckled at her, "It sure is!" She smiled up at him. "Are you a friend of my Mama's?" She asked, "I am, your mama is very important to me." She raised an eyebrow at him, "She is?" He nodded, "Yes, she is." She looked between you and Fenrys, debating the new information that she'd just received, Fenrys studied her while she did, the hair, the eyes, her name, his eyes met yours in a silent question that you didn't get time to answer as Freya had finished appraising the two of you and tugged on his hand, "Tea!" She let go of his hand and ran back into the cottage. "I guess you're invited for tea." You told him quietly.

Fenrys stood, "Freya?" He asked, grasping your wrist to stop you from walking away from him. "Yes, Freya, that's her name." You answered, not meeting his eyes. "How old is she, Y/N?" Still not looking at him, you shrugged, "It's not important." He placed two fingers under your chin and he gently directed your eyes to his, "Yes it is, Y/N, she's mine isn't she? That's why you left?" Taking a shaky breath, you let the tears fall, "You deserved more, you'd just won a war and gained your freedom and I couldn't shackle you to me like that." He let out a breath "Shackled?" You nodded, "You'd been through so much Fenrys, the trauma from Maeve, what happened to Connall, Aelin's torture, Gavriel's death, you needed to heal, you needed to be free and I knew if I told you that you would've done the honourable thing and you'd have married me and taken us both on, it wasn't fair." He scoffed, "So it was fair for me to lose you and not know why? To look for you for four years, to find you only to learn I've missed the birth of my daughter? The first, what, three and a half years of her life?" You tensed as you heard a smash in the house and a quiet "Oops." You pulled your wrist from his hand, "Can we talk about this later please? When she's asleep? Your daughter wants to have tea, will you join us?" His eyes roamed your face once more and he nodded and followed you into the house.

To say Freya was besotted with Fenrys was an understatement, in the course of one afternoon she'd absolutely fallen in love with him and he her. You knew already, despite the fact you kept her from him, he wouldn't be kept away from her anymore, he'd dote on her and he'd never let her want for anything. You watched them through the kitchen window, chasing each other in the garden. Freya couldn't believe her eyes when Fenrys had taken her outside and turned into a wolf before her. She'd spent half an hour sitting on his back as he ran around the garden with her as she shrieked with delight. Now back as a male he chased her and threw her up in the air every time he caught her. Sighing, you turned away from the window, questioning the decision you had made for the first time. He looked more alive now playing with Freya than you'd ever seen him, but then you hadn't seen him in the last four years.

Fenrys stayed for dinner, he looked surprised by your invitation but he graciously accepted and ate with one hand as the other was keeping Freya balanced on his lap. You'd asked her to sit in her own chair and she'd refused, Fenrys certainly wasn't about to ask her to move so you picked your battle, fight with the child about where she sat for dinner, or fight the bigger fight of getting her to go to bed and leave Fenrys. You chose the latter, deciding you didn't have the energy for both and then the conversation that was bound to happen with Fenrys once she was asleep.

Conversation flowed surprisingly easy between the two of you over dinner, he told you of Aedion and Lysandra's wedding, and their baby boy whom they'd named after Gavriel. He told you about Lorcan and Elide who were happily married and had their own babe on the way and of the three children Rowan and Aelin had been blessed with. Chaol and Yrene had a girl, she'd roughly be the same age as Freya and Dorian had finally convinced Manon to marry him. By the time he finished you had tears in your eyes and he was holding your hand across the table, dinner forgotten. "Sad, mama?" Freya's tired little voice asked you, "No baby, mama is happy that her friends got their happy endings." The little girl smiled at you softly and snuggled herself further into Fenrys' chest and yawned.

"I should put her to bed." You said as you wiped your eyes and stood, he looked down at the little girl curled into his chest, "Can I…I mean…would it be alright if-" You smiled at him softly. "Fenrys, would you like to put her to bed?" He gave you a small smile back, "Thank you." You nodded at him, "Top of the stairs, end of the hallway, I'll make some tea, I guess we should talk." He nodded this time. "Don't forget, Wolfie." You added, he lifted an eyebrow and you handed him a stuffed wolf teddy from the side. It was white, just like he was. "I made sure you were around, in small ways." He said nothing as he headed up the stairs and you couldn't help the galloping in your chest at how domestic it all was, at how this was what you had always dreamed of with him.

You hovered nervously at the bottom of the stairs, listening to the low rumble of Fenrys' voice as he told Freya a story as she'd requested, your heart cracked when you realised he was telling her the story of the two of you, he'd made you a princess and he was a knight, cursed to work for the evil queen. He trailed off halfway through, she must've fallen asleep. "Goodnight, little love." You heard him speak lowly, "Have the most wonderful dreams, I'm here now, I'll keep you and your mama safe, always." You heard Freya's bedroom door close and you threw yourself back into the kitchen and into a chair at the table, where you'd already made tea and had sliced some pieces of cake you'd made that afternoon while they played.

"Is that lemon cake?" Fenrys asked as he took the seat opposite you, "You told me once it was your favourite, so I made it while you played with Freya this afternoon." His smiles were still clipped but he gave you one nonetheless, "It still is." You put a piece on a plate and pushed it towards him. "You didn't have to do this on your own, Y/N. I would've been there, I would've wanted to be there." You nodded slowly. "It's going to sound ridiculous, but I wanted you to want me for me, not because I was carrying your child. I didn't want you to stay with me for the baby, so I left. I wanted you to be able to live, Fen, to have a life and your freedom." He leveled you with a look, "You were my life! Hell, you still are, I've looked for you for four years!" You shrank into your chair. "I can never make up for what I did, in keeping her from you, and you from her, I convinced myself it was the right thing to do and I was wrong. I'm sorry Fenrys. I should've told you, I was scared, I was 23 and pregnant and I let the fear win." He took a deep breath, "I'm not going to argue with you, it's done, we can't change it, but I need you both in my life, do you understand that, there was something I should've told you as well, I was going to the night you left, we're mates, you and I, my soul belongs to you and yours to me. I will not be kept away from either of you anymore."

"Come back to the castle with me? Freya has cousins that will adore her, you have friends that miss you, plus, out of all the kids, we made the cutest one and I need to rub that in Rowan and Aedion's faces." You let out a tearful laugh, "I never stopped loving you, Fen." He smiled, properly this time, "I know, little one." You smiled back at him, "We'll come with you." Fenrys stood from his chair and walked round the table to you and pulled you in his arms. "We'll pack up what you need and leave in a few days, I want some interrupted time with my girls first." You smiled up at him, "We can tell her tomorrow, that your her father, if you want." A little gasp pulled both of your attention to the stairs. "Daddy?" Fenrys crouched so he was at her level. "Yes, little love, I'm your daddy, is that okay?" She beamed his own smile at him and ran into his open arms.

[floof-poof]

Matching Wounds - Reader x Azriel x Lucien Vanserra

A/N: So I started this fic with the full intention of it being Azriel angst with a happy ending, but now I'm not sure if I want Y/N to end up with Azriel or for her to fall for Lucien. Let me know what you guys think?!❤️

T/W: Alcohol, fighting, Azriel and Elain being the worst.

W/C 2.4K

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Y/N! Have you seen Azriel?!" Cassian looked frantic as he threw open the door to your dress shop, you raised an eyebrow at him, "Hello Cassian, lovely to see you again." You weren't in the inner circle but they all knew of you and were all friendly enough after they'd figured out that you were Azriel's mate, not that he'd bought it up to you, you knew he knew and he knew you knew but no mention of it had been made, let alone accepted.

You'd known Azriel for years before the bond snapped, his favourite hideaway is what he called the apartment above the dress shop you lived in, the one place his family wouldn't find him when he needed a break. You'd loved him long before the bond and part of you always would, even if he rejected you, which was seeming more and more likely by the day since Elain had entered the picture. You wanted to hate her, every instinct in your body told you to hate her, but she was lovely, gentle and kind and it wasn't her fault, you had been nothing but nice to her and just like her sisters and Mor, she had free reign to take anything she liked from the shop.

"He's probably with Elain, have you checked the gardens?" Cassian nodded his head, "We checked there first, we can't find her either." You hummed in response, "They've probably just snuck off somewhere together, is that so surprising?" You asked him, he sighed, "I can't imagine how much it hurts, Y/N, to see them together, to smell her on him whenever he's here." You shrugged, "He's hardly ever here anymore, Cass, so it doesn't matter, if they're happy, they're happy, it's none of our business." He opened his mouth but you interrupted him, "Cass, you and I both know if he doesn't want to be found, he won't be, I'm sure he's fine."

It was later that evening, when Rhys winnowed into your apartment, you got worried, "There's something you need to see and hear." He stated, the power of a High Lord rippling off of him, something had angered him and you had a feeling you were about to find out what. You stood and nodded at him as he took your hand in his, in a blink your apartment was left behind and the sitting room of the River House came into view.

Azriel was the first one your eyes landed on, his eyes focused on Elain, then you saw the others, all looked uncomfortable and then finally, Lucien, who stood rigid, silent, like someone had frozen him in place. You stepped up to him and touched his arm, he flinched away from you instantly, "Luc, what's wrong?" Everyone in the room tensed at your question. Rhys cleared his throat, but it was Elain who said, "I didn't do it to hurt you, Lucien."

You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat and cast a thought out to Feyre and Rhys, "I recommend getting Eris here, now. Whatever happened is going push him over the edge and Eris is the only one that'll be able to pull him back." Rhys gave the slightest of nods and Mor disappeared. Since becoming High Lord of Autumn, a new side of Eris had emerged, he and Rhys weren't so different and he'd explained himself and his actions to not only Mor but all of them and they were all trying to move forward as not just allies but friends. You took a step closer to Lucien, who had said nothing back to Elain as if he hadn't even heard her. You waited for the words that were about to tear you apart, staring at Azriel.

"Well, go on." Rhys encouraged the two of them, "Tell them what you've done." Elain straightened her back, Azriel took a deep breath and ran his left hand down his face, the gold ring on his finger snagged your attention and you stopped breathing as Elain said, "We got married." It was then that you looked at her properly for the first time since you'd arrived, the dress she was wearing, the one you'd made for yourself, to wear to a mating ceremony that wasn't ever going to happen, the dress you'd made to wear for Azriel.

She wouldn't have known why you made it, but it was the finest dress you'd ever made and it had been tucked away in the back of the shop since you'd lost hope of your mate accepting you. She looked like a vision, the chiffon skirts danced around her legs like they'd been caught on a phantom wind, the bodice, shimmering blue in certain lights, and even as she was facing you, you knew without a doubt the cobalt buttons that ran down her spine would look just as beautiful on her as the rest of the gown. "Married?" You choked out and then four things happened at once.

Lucien lunged at Azriel. Shadows exploded, covering Elain from head to toe. Eris and Mor appeared. Lastly your knees gave out. Eris lunged at his brother and hauled him back by his collar just before he reached Azriel, pulling him against his chest, an arm wrapped around his neck to keep him there. The shadows around Elain faded, and Eris stepped backwards towards you, dragging Lucien with him.

"We'll be going, would you like to come with us?" He asked offering a hand to you as Cassian hauled you back to your feet, your eyes lined with silver as you looked at Azriel and you let it all flow down the bond, every tiny piece of pain and betrayal you'd kept locked away, he flinched ever so slightly as it all hit him at once, Elain placed her hand on her husband's arm to comfort him. Husband. Elain's husband.

You looked at Lucien, fighting against his brothers grip on him, then at Eris and nodded, giving him your hand. Azriel took one step forward, almost as if he was going to reach for you but you were already gone.

When you hit solid ground you were in a clearing in autumn, Lucien pushed away from his brother and raged. You doubled over and threw up and fell into the waiting arms of the High Lady of Autumn, April, your best friend. Eris had quite literally run into her in Velaris and had known that she was who he was meant for and she didn't shut up about him for weeks, until he'd come back and swept her off of her feet.

"It's my right to challenge him!" Lucien shouted at Eris who took his youngest brother's face in his hands, "You'll die, Luc, you're good, but he's better and believe it or not, I'm rather fond of you baby brother, I won't allow it, please don't make me pull rank." You took shaky steps towards them, "Is there even any point in fighting for them? They've made their choices and we both deserved better than what they did." Lucien whirled on you, "That dress! You knew!" You took a step back and Eris growled at him in warning when he got too close to April. "I didn't know, Lucien, I swear! Yes, I made the dress, but I didn't make it for her, I made it for me, but I completely forgot about it when I lost hope in my mate wanting me back." He nodded, "You're a good male Lucien, one of the best I've ever known, you didn't deserve what she did, you didn't deserve her treatment of you at all, I'm sorry for that." He sighed, "You didn't deserve that either Y/N, Azriel never deserved you."

Two weeks later, a letter arrived, it just appeared on your night table with a gentle thunk. You instantly recognised the handwriting on the envelope. Your hands shook as you opened it.

Dear Y/N,

I know I don't deserve any of your time or attention but I need you to know I never intended to hurt you. You're my best friend, my other half, my twin flame and I won't deny that but I'm a married male now.

Elain taught me the human way of following your heart and that's what I did, the only thing I've ever done for myself. I hope you can understand that. It was never that I didn't love you, I do, greatly. I know you need time, I know you're hurting, but please, when you're ready, write me back, I need you, I need my friend.

I know it will never be the same between us now, and that we have yet to break the bond, but I promise I won't do that until you're ready. Until I know you can handle it.

Elain is worried that Lucien will come back and issue a blood duel. Rhys needs to know if that's going to happen so he and Eris can stop it before he does. I don't want to kill him Y/N, but I will if it comes to it. Don't let it come to that.

Azriel.

Tears lined your eyes as you read the letter again and again. Lucien, you needed to talk to Lucien, which was easier said than done these days. To say he'd gone off the rails was putting it lightly, you sighed, folding the letter and putting it in the pocket of your dress, you headed off to find the wild son of Autumn.

You could smell the whisky before you even opened his chamber door. You almost tiptoed through the door, closing it behind you with a gentle click. Lucien's room was a mess. The curtains were half drawn across the windows, empty bottles and glasses on every surface and some on the floor, his bed was a mess of crumpled sheets and pillows strewn about and then your eyes landed on him and your heart broke for your friend. He'd fallen asleep on the floor, you knew he'd likely missed the sofa by the fire when he stumbled in last night and just slept where he fell. Bruises had blossomed on his face, you knew there would be more on his body, dark splotches covering the old yellow ones and his knuckles were cracked and caked in dried blood.

Eris has tried to outlaw the fighting rings in Autumn but many of them had gone underground and you knew if there was something to find, Lucien of all people would be the one to find them and he had. You knew he did this to feel something, knew he let the males with far less skill than he had land punches on him so he could punish himself for losing his mate, something that wasn't even his fault, you also knew he was punishing himself for the pain you felt as well.

As quietly as you could you closed all the curtains in his rooms, re lit the fire and made your way into his bathing chamber, and began running him a bath. As the tub filled you returned to his rooms and stripped his bed, remaking it with fresh sheets and ensuring the pillows were plump. When the bath was full you tiptoed over to him and knelt next to him. "Lucien, wake up." You kept your voice low as to not startle him and gently moved a stray piece of hair out of his face. He stirred but only slightly so you gently shook his shoulder.

Lucien cracked his eye open, his metal one began to whir, "What do you want?" He mumbled, barely awake. You smiled down at him as gently as you could. "I want to help you, Luc, it hurts me to see you this way, come on, I ran you a bath." He let out what you thought was a snort. "I can look after myself." You ran your fingers through his hair again, "I know you can, but you don't have to, come on." This time he let you pull him up with you, when you let go he stumbled so you placed his arm around your shoulder and guided him to the bathroom.

He stared at you, mouth agape as you started to unbutton his shirt. "What are you doing?" You raised an eyebrow at him, "You'll fall over if you do this yourself and if I leave you'll likely drown in the bath." He couldn't really argue with you there. "Don't worry, you won't scandalise me, Lucien Vanserra, you aren't the first naked male I've seen." He didn't make you leave but he did insist on undressing himself, he only fell once when his leg got stuck in his breeches.

You watched as all of his muscles visibly relaxed as the hot water covered him. You approached and pulled his shoulders back so you could reach his hair. He said nothing while you cupped water in your hands and poured it over his head, he shuddered as you massaged the shampoo into his hair and washed it out again. "Please stop hurting yourself Lucien, this isn't the way." He sighed but said nothing. "I can't lose you as well, you're all I have, fox boy." The corner of his mouth twitched up momentarily at the nickname you'd given him when you'd first met him in the Spring Court. When the water began to cool you offered him a towel and let him get himself out the bath while you went through his draws to find him something comfortable to wear. Once you had found what you turned to head back to the bathroom to find Lucien already in the bedroom, sans towel. Gods he was beautiful. Elain was a fool. Your heart clenched as you thought this was the wrong male you were caring for at the thought of Elain caring for Azriel like this.

Lucien was swaying on his feet by the time you'd gotten him dressed in a pair of loose cotton trousers designed for sleep. You gently guided him towards the bed and tucked him in like you would a sick child. "Get some sleep, Luc." You told him quietly. You turned to leave as his big hand wrapped around your wrist and you were pulled down next to him. "Don't leave me." He all but whispered, half asleep already. "You're all I have." He mumbled, pulling you into his side. "I won't leave you, Lucien, I promise, I'll be here when you wake up."

Later. You'd ask him about the blood duel later.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

[floof-poof]

Unexpected - Lucien Vanserra

A/N: I found this in my drafts and I liked it! I'm thinking this could have some more parts to it? Let me know what you think! ❤️

T/W: Talks of war and death. Reader cuts her hand accidentally.

W/C: 3k

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"I don't want to get married!" You hissed at your mother, shooting a desperate look at your father for help. "It is your only duty!" She threw back at you, "Honestly, Y/N, you need to pull your head out of the clouds, your father and I will make a good match for you." Your father choked on the sip of tea he had just taken, "Don't drag me into this." He told her holding his hands up, "She's my baby, she can stay with me forever if that's what she wants." You grinned at him, as the youngest of five you were the apple of your father's eye and his only daughter.

Your mother turned to face her husband, arms crossed over her chest as she glared at him, "You don't help! Buying her those fairytales, convincing her that she can marry for love!" He raised an eyebrow, "We married for love." He told her, "For the life of me, I can't remember why now." He joked, you smothered the laugh that bubbled up your throat as your mother stiffened. "The Fae across the wall are stirring," she hissed, "Our sons are at war! Not to mention poor Wren, he went as well! Did you not hear what happened to the Archeron sisters? She needs a husband's protection" Your blood chilled, Feyre taken from her family in the middle of the night by a fae creature, Elain and Nesta taken from their beds a year later. But it wasn't them being taken that chilled your veins, it sounded quite exhilarating, it was the idea of your brothers and Wren at war, the idea of a husband's protection.

The last rumors you heard was that the sisters were still alive and high fae themselves now, according to Lord Greysen anyway. "Sounds like quite an adventure, don't you think, Y/N?" Your father asked with a wink, causing your mother to huff and walk out of the kitchen. "I give up!"

Sighing you threw yourself into the chair next to your father's. "It's alright poppet, I won't let her sell you off." He told you quietly. "Is she right? I'm already 25 and unmarried, the village talks you know." He huffed, "Let them talk, you are destined for greater things than to be a wife, my girl." He ruffled your unbound hair, "Now go, you don't want to be late for your first day at the manor." You smiled, your mother would go ballistic if she found out you'd gotten yourself a job, let alone at the manor now inhabited by Fae if the rumors were to be believed, however, the young woman you had met with for the interview, Vassa, seemed human, rounded ears and all. You stood, straightening your skirts and kissed your father's cheek, "I love you papa, I'll see you in the morning."

It dawned on you halfway through the woods that this might not have been your best idea, Vassa though nice enough in her letters and the brief time you spent with her had insisted on meeting with you after nightfall. Dinner at the tavern, she'd insisted, it didn't strike you as odd at the time. You'd been over the moon that someone had wanted to give a girl with no work experience other than her household chores a shot.

Doubt started crawling up your neck as you remembered her telling you that she lived with two males, one who comes and goes and is sometimes gone for weeks at a time. Blush crept up your neck as you considered what kind of relationship the three of them had. Initially you hadn't thought anything of it when she told you that your working times would be from sunset to sunrise but now as you approached the ivy covered manor it seemed odd that they would want you to work through the night, would your cleaning and tidying up of the library not disturb them?

By the time you reached the path up to the door you were fighting the urge to run home, Wren's voice floated into your head. "You miss all of the chances you don't take Y/N, so take them all." God's you missed him, he'd left to fight the war and like your 4 older brothers was yet to return. If you closed your eyes you could see his sandy hair blowing in the wind and his ocean blue eyes drowning your very soul in the best of ways. As a teenager you'd always assumed he would be your husband one day but you were both 25 now and he was still to ask. Was there someone else? Before you could travel any further down that particular thought path the door of the manor swung open, "Y/N!" Vassa's melodic voice called from the doorway, you smiled up at her and walked the rest of the way to the front door, "It's so lovely to see you again, thank you for coming!" She beamed at you and led you into the house.

"I thought I would give you a tour of the house before dinner?" She suggested and you raised an eyebrow, "Dinner?" She smiled, "Why yes, did you think I expected you to work through the night? No, no, tonight was merely for me to introduce you to Jurian and Lucien, who should be home in time for dinner, as they will be the ones here during the day!" You smiled, despite your stomach churning, "I understand, thank you."

The manor itself was beautiful, light and airy with magnificent gardens, even if they did need a little bit of love, a job that would've been perfect for Elain Archeron you mused. The library took your breath away, it was the best collection of books you'd ever seen, Vassa had explained that they needed organising, some of them fixing from the time they'd been left on the shelves, a job you jumped at having spent your childhood learning from your father who was a bookbinder by trade. "What about these ones?" You asked guesturing to a pile of books next to one of the armchairs by the fire, "Those are Lucien's, he likes to read more than anyone I know, he's always bringing books back from his trips." She explained, you took in the titles on the spines of the books and couldn't help but think you could be good friends with this Lucien, his taste in books was exquisite.

Finally she led you to the dining room, where a handsome man was sat, nose deep in a map he was studying, Vassa cleared her throat. "Jurian, this is Y/N, she's going to be helping out around here." You curtsied and she snorted with laughter. "There's no need for such formalities around here Y/N, it's lovely to make your acquaintance." You opened your mouth to reply but you weren't given the chance, "Knock it off, Jurian, don't send the girl screaming from the house before she's even started." Your eyes met an eye of russet and one of some kind of metal that you didn't recognise, it whirred as he looked you up and down, your gaze swept over him in return, beautiful, he was beautiful, he was like no man you had ever seen but your heart stopped when you saw his ears, pointed ears, fae ears. "Ignore Lucien," Jurian's voice pulled your attention back to him, "He's old and grumpy." Lucien snorted, "You're older than me, General." Vassa interrupted their bickering, "Can we have one nice meal, please? We have a guest."

Over the following weeks you'd gotten used to Lucien and Jurian and their teasing and bickering, which had now turned into the two of them teasing you. Jurian's favourite was to constantly remind you of the plate you had dropped and broken when Lucien came striding through the kitchen in nothing but his trousers which were hanging indecently low on his hips, your face had been red for far too long afterwards and Jurian wouldn't drop the fact that Lucien had scandalised you. What he hadn't seen, the cause for the dropping of the plate was the wink and smirk he threw at you as he left the kitchen.

There was something sad about Lucien, however, he seemed haunted, like he wasn't really in the room with you, his mind always elsewhere. You'd been working at the manor for six weeks when you started to figure it out. You were working late in the library, trying to put back together a particularly beautiful book that had seen better times.

You sighed, giving up for the evening, your mind travelling back to Lucien who had become your friend over these last week's, he'd filled the hole that Wren had left and he made you smile, you were refusing to acknowledge the little kicks your heart did when his focus was solely on you. Knowing you'd achieve no more with the book tonight, you stood and brushed down your skirts and crept down the stairs quietly so as to not wake anyone when voices from the parlor stopped you in your tracks.

"You weren't there Lucien!" A female voice hissed, a voice you knew but you couldn't quite place, "I was across the continent, do you really think if I'd known you had been taken I wouldn't have come for you?" He asked back, his voice gentle in contrast to hers, "I-" he cut her off, "Even if I was there, if I'd battled my way through that camp to you, would you have come with me? Would you have taken my hand as easily as you took his? Would you have trusted me with your life to get you out of there like you trust him?" She was silent, he must've realised she wasn't going to answer him so he continued. "I would die for you, give my life for yours, that's what mates do, but you need to decide, Elain, if you don't want me, have no interest in even getting to know me, then you need to reject the bond." Elain? Elain Archeron? It couldn't be. "I didn't come here to fight, Lucien." It was, that was her voice, unmistakably so. "Then why did you come?" His voice was short. "I don't know, it was a mistake. Goodnight Lucien."

You threw yourself into the bar room across the hall so she didn't see you on her way out, so she didn't know you'd been listening. You heard the front door open and close, then silence for a few beats, then something shattered in the parlor. He was hurting, obviously so, and despite the fact you knew he'd be furious that you'd heard, you couldn't let him hurt alone. Taking a deep breath you poured two fingers of whiskey into a tumbler and walked into the parlor, you spotted the vase shattered in the corner as you entered and Lucien's head snapped up from where he was sitting.

"I didn't mean to hear, I was just on my way out." You rushed out as you thrust your hand towards him with the glass of whisky. He studied you and took the glass. "What did you hear?" You considered not telling him for half a second, just that you'd heard the vase smash, but you had never been a good liar. "Umm, everything from, you weren't there, to when she left." He sighed and took a sip of the whisky. "What's going on there?" You asked as you began to pick up the pieces of glass, "She was turned fae, by a mistake I made, that I allowed Tamlin to make, when she was turned, the mating bond snapped for me, she seems to have no interest most of the time, but then occasionally she'll tell me she can hear my heart or she'll just show up here, her sisters are mated to two members of the night court, so close they are almost brothers. Elain has taken a shine to the third brother. I won't stand in her way if he is what she wants, but the bond is killing me."

You considered his words, "Did you mean that? That you'd die for her? Even knowing she longs for another?" You asked quietly. "The bond is all consuming, there's no lengths I wouldn't go to in order to protect her, even if it isn't me she wants. In an old Autumn Court tradition, I could challenge him to a blood duel, a fight to the death, but if he dies, it'll hurt her, if I die, which is the most likely outcome of that, she'll feel the pain of the bond dying." You hummed, "So you leave it alone, let her make her own choices, even if it's killing you inside?" You looked over your shoulder at him and he nodded, "You're a good man, Lucien, if she can't see that then it's her issue, not yours." You could feel his eyes watching you. "Male." Was all he said, "What?" "I'm fae, I'm not a man, I'm a male." You snorted a little laugh, "My apologies, you're a good male, Lucien." He cracked a small smile, "That's better." He teased, then tensed, you felt the pain a moment later. The shard of glass you had picked up slipped and had sliced your palm, he must've scented the blood. He was by your side before you'd even registered him moving.

"Here, let me." He said gently, taking the shards of glass from your hand and placing them on the table you were both kneeling in front of. Lucien's metal eye whirred as it scanned over the cut in your palm and he carefully helped you to your feet and guided you to the chair he was previously sat in. "I'll be right back." He told you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He literally was right back, you hadn't even had time to wonder where he'd gone. Graceful as any courtier he knelt In front of you and took your much smaller hand in his much larger calloused one and began cleaning it to stitch and wrap it. You studied his eye, both normal and metal, his face, his hands while he worked. "Ask." He said, not looking away from where he was threading a needle, "What?" His eyes met yours then, "The questions you've got running in your head, ask them while I do this." You allowed yourself a small smile.

"I can ask anything?" You questioned before you started firing your questions at him, "Yes, but I can choose not to answer and I get to ask questions in return." You smiled properly at him then, "Okay! Deal!" He tensed, "Be very careful using the word deal round fae little human, some of us would take advantage of that." He said, warning lacing his words, you let out a breath, "I'm sorry, I'll be careful." He inclined his head for you to ask your first question, "What happens if Elain rejects the mating bond?" He paused before starting his first stitch, "Starting with the hard hitting questions I see." You shrugged, "It could very well drive me to madness." You gasped, "Is it really that bad?" He nodded while you winced at the first prick of the needle, "Have you ever experienced missing someone so much it's like a part of your soul is missing?" He asked, you said one name in response, "Wren." You could tell he was going to come back to that name, "It's like that but everything is amplified as a fae." You nodded in understanding, "You won't have to go through that alone, Lucien." He raised his eyes to yours, "If she rejects it, I won't let you descend into madness." You clarified for him, "If she rejects the bond, you are not to come anywhere near me, I'll be a very volatile male, for a long time." You shook your head, "Like, my lifetime long?" You asked as he did the second and third stitches, "Maybe even longer." You couldn't imagine him just not being there one day because Elain Archeron couldn't see how amazing this male in front of you was, "No, you wouldn't hurt me Lucien, not ever." You told him, nothing but complete and utter confidence and trust in him shining in your eyes.

"Who's Wren?" He asked as he started his sixth and final stitch. "Wren is my best friend, I haven't seen him in almost a year, he joined the war and went past the wall, truth be told I'm not even sure he's still alive but I pictured my entire life with him, I don't want to admit that he's gone." Lucien began wrapping your hand, "You were engaged to this Wren?" He asked, "Oh…no, I just, I was so sure he was going to ask but I'm 25 now and he hasn't and my mother is desperately trying to make me a match so the villagers don't think I'm a witch or something." Lucien hummed at the information you'd just give him, "You'd be a good little witch and this Wren is a fool for not asking for your hand." You couldn't help the blush that crawled up your neck.

It was your turn for a question and Lucien waited patiently for it, "Who's Tamlin?" Was the question you settled on, Lucien didn't miss a beat before he said "Pass, ask a different question." You noted his refusal and decided you'd ask Jurian instead the next time Lucien was away. "Did you fight in the war?" He hesitated this time, his eye going distant before coming back to you, "I did, with the Humans, I fought alongside Jurian and Vassa and Elain's father." You scrambled to open your locket necklace, one side a picture of your brother, the other, Wren, "Did you see any of these men? Fight with them?" He studied the two pictures, analysed them, and then tapped the one of your brothers, "I never saw them, him however-" he tapped the picture of Wren, "I knew him, this is your Wren?" He asked and you nodded, scrambling for words, "You knew him? As in, past tense?" Lucien nodded somberly, "He fell, Y/N, I'm so sorry, he fought valiantly, he got cut down by an enemy general, I couldn't get to him quick enough." Your face crumbled and your heart shattered as you fell forward into Lucien's arms and cried.

[floof-poof]

Lessons - Lucien Vanserra (Modern Student AU)

A/N - I don't think there's any trigger warnings for this so please enjoy!!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You sighed, taking in the packed library, pulling your satchel higher up onto your shoulder, you made your way to your favourite corner, no one ever sat at the small table tucked away in a dim alcove so you were shocked to see someone already in your spot. The vibrant red hair, the sharp planes of his face, the curve of his nose and lips and the slight frown on his brow as he poured over the pages of his text books made you want to know him. He sighed, pushing his round glasses up with his index finger and then ran his hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face. You cleared your throat. "Do you mind if I sit here?" You asked more timidly than you meant to when he looked up at you, you weren't expecting the scars that decorated his face. He said nothing, but he nodded and moved one of his textbooks out of your way.

The second time you ended up sitting with the beautiful redhead wasn't planned, you had gotten to the library first and taken up your usual space, surrounded by empty take out coffee cups. Movement in your peripheral vision had you looking up and meeting his eyes, one of which you were sure was glass judging by the scars he bore and he gestured to the seat across from you, you smiled at him gently, nodded and went back to your books. Gods he was tall. It was a few hours later when the sun had set and most of the library was empty that little balls of paper began hitting the top of your head. You sighed and removed your headphones, hitting pause on your phone. "Yes?" You asked the smirking idiot across from you, irritation clear in your tone. "What are you listening to?" He asked leaning back in his chair so only two legs were on the ground. "My study playlist. Can you please not sit like that, if you fall back and crack your head on the desk behind you, I can't help you, I don't do blood." He laughed, a rich and hearty laugh and you swore then you'd do anything to hear it again and then cursed yourself. He was clearly a frat boy, you'd figured that much out over the last couple of weeks, watching him flirt and wink at the girls that walked past him, always seeming to have a different one hanging off of his arm at parties. He flattened his feet on the floor and you let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding. "I'm Lucien." He grinned at you like a small child on solstice morning. "Y/N." He hummed. "Suits you." He mused and you rolled your eyes. "I'm glad my name has your approval, Lucien."

The third time you ended up studying with Lucien, he didn't ask to sit with you, he just sat down and slid a cup of coffee towards you. You raised your eyebrow at him and removed your headphones. "What's this?" He snorted at you. "A coffee? Are you sure you should be at college if you can't figure that out?" You quirked an eyebrow at him and he smirked. You picked up the cup and took a sip, sighing with pleasure, caramel latte. "How did you know my order?" He rolled his eyes. "I pay attention." The two of you fell into comfortable silence as you studied. It was two hours later when one of your broke the silence. "What are you studying?" He asked you, a genuine curiosity filled his eyes. "History." You smiled "I like how it always seems to repeat itself." He hummed. "What about you?" His smile was infectious and you could tell he truly cared about what he was studying. "Human Rights." You couldn't help the snort that left you. "Sorry, I just wasn't expecting you to say that!" He raised an eyebrow. "What did you think I'd say?" You shrugged. "I don't know, something like Sport Science or Business." He laughed. "Sport Science?" You could feel the blush on your cheek. "I assumed you were some kinda frat boy from one of the sport teams, always winking and flirting with the girls in the hallways and at parties." His smirk was feline. "Why Y/N, have you been keeping tabs on me?" The blush in your cheeks flared. "What? No! I-" His laughter cut you off.

An agreement had been struck between you after that and you became regular study buddies, meeting 3 days a week in the little alcove of the library. Currently you were listening to him explain the subject of your own paper to you better than you could ever know or understand it. When he stopped to take a breath you said "Is there anything you don't know?" That feline smirk was back. "Your phone number?" He said with a wink and you laughed, properly laughed, tears in your eyes kind of laughter. "Does that actually work?" You wheezed at him, he handed you his phone. "You tell me." He said with another wink and you entered your number, not missing the name he'd added for you. "Pretty Library Girl."

You'd been texting back and forth since then. Every morning you'd wake up to a flirty message and every night you'd fall asleep to one. You couldn't deny that you were falling for the tall redhead but you'd still see him around campus with various girls and your brain told you to be careful but your heart didn't care, always going to him when he asked. You'd learned a lot about him in the last few weeks you'd been texting. He was one of 7 sons, two had passed away. His favourite brother was his eldest, Eris but they hadn't spoken since Lucien had started college. His father was a despicable man and the reason he was studying Human Rights. One day he'd hoped to go and see the other Courts, to help them, to fight for the Fae that couldn't fight for themselves and you'd promised to give him the grand tour of your hometown.

You were ripped from your sleep when your cellphone started blaring it's ringtone obnoxiously. Shooting a hand to the beside table searching for the device without opening your eyes, you located it within a few seconds and cracked one eye open to see who the hell was calling you at 4 am. Butterflies exploded in your stomach but irritation ran through your veins when you saw the caller ID, Lucien. "Lucien, what the hell, it's 4am?!" You mumbled down the line as angrily as you could. "Y/N!!" He dragged out the syllables of your name, drunk, he was drunk. "How much have you had to drink?" You asked him, clearing the sleep out of your voice. He didn't answer the question, instead he said. "Come get meeeeeee!" You scoffed. "I don't even know where you are?" He giggled, actually giggled. "At Feyre and Rhys' of course! There's a party! Come get me!" There was no way you were going to a party. "Lucien, who are you talking to?" You heard a female ask him in the background and he crooned your name back at her. "Give me the phone." She asked him nicely. "No, I'm talking to Y/N!" You almost laughed at the childish tone he was using and then you heard a scuffle. "Feyyyyy!" You heard Lucien whine and then a female was talking to you. "Hi, Y/N? My name is Feyre. I'm one of Lucien's friends, as you can tell, he's had a bit too much to drink, my sister Elain, his ex, turned up to the party and we weren't expecting her and it's not gone down well but he's refusing to leave unless you come and get him." You laughed, despite the fact your blood had run cold at Elain's name. He'd mentioned her a couple of times and you could tell from the haunted look in his eyes it had hurt him deeply when they broke up. "Where do you live? I'm on my way."

You were cursing Lucien when he wasn't outside the house when you pulled up. You hadn't bothered getting dressed, assuming you wouldn't actually have to go in the house, so there you sat in your car, in your shorts and giant t-shirt you slept in & your Crocs you'd thrown on as you left. You rang him twice and it went straight to voicemail. You would bet all the money in your bank account the battery was dead on it, that boy never charged his phone! You sighed and dragged together all the confidence you had, and stepped out of the car and knocked on the front door, you doubted anyone would hear it over the pounding music. You were correct when you'd stood in the cold for a couple of minutes so you tried the handle. It opened and you found yourself face to face with the tallest man you'd ever seen. "Well, hello there little lady." He smirked at you as his eyes roved over your attire. "I'm Y/N." His smirk turned into a genuine smile. "Lucien's Y/N?! I'm Cassian, he talks about you all the time." You swore the butterflies that appeared every time you were around Lucien or he was mentioned were having a rave in your stomach. He talks about me all the time! "Come in! You must be freezing!" Cassian didn't give you a change as he lightly grabbed your arm and dragged you into the house. "It's nice to meet you and everything, Cassian, but where is he? I'd like to go back to sleep." He laughed at you just as Lucien stumbled down the stairs.

He blinked at you twice. "Y/N!! What are you doing here?! What are you wearing?!" You rolled your eyes. "I'm here to take you home, apparently you won't leave with anyone but me and these are my pajamas, it's 4am, I was asleep!" He winked at you. "Well can you blame me!" You rolled your eyes again. "You must be freezing!" You were, and you knew both he and Cassian could see your nipples through your thin t-shirt, gods you wished you'd stopped to put a bra on. Lucien was pulling his hoodie off of his body and shoving it over your head before you could register what he was doing. He stepped back, looking proud of himself. "Much better." He mused, taking in the sight of you in his hoodie that fell to your knees. It was warm and cozy and it smelt like firewood and cigarette smoke, it smelt like Lucien and you were never giving it back. "Come meet my friends!" You couldn't stop him as he steered you into the living room where most of his friends were, he introduced you to Rhys, Azriel, Feyre and Nesta. He then introduced you to the girl who had been looking you up and down with disdain since you'd entered with him, Elain. She was beautiful, you'd never ever seen such beauty but you also judged her, for having Lucien and breaking his heart. Insecurity flooded you the more she watched you, the more you watched him watch her.

You tugged his arm when 5am rolled around. "Let's get you home so I can go home and get a couple more hours of sleep before my 9am class." He smirked and elbowed Cassian and said "She's taking me home!" Cassian laughed as you rolled your eyes for a third time. Bidding his friends goodbye, took the paper from Feyre that she had written his address on and dragged him to the front door. "Lucien, where are your glasses?" You couldn't believe you hadn't noticed when you'd first got here. "At home." He said. "I've got a contact lens in this one and this one doesn't work anyways." He stayed as he pointed to his glass eye. You got him situated in the car and joined him. He was running his fingers down the scars that started above his eyebrow and ended just under his chin. He caught you looking and said. "It's part of the reason she left me." Anger filled you. "Elain?" He nodded. "She left because you lost your eye?!" He sighed. "She didn't want to deal with the healing process and the mental trauma that came with it." You looked at him, really looked at him, he was beautiful, how could she? He was sweet, caring, kind, hilariously sarcastic and he'd been through something terrible and she just left him? Without thinking your traced the scars from top to bottom with your index finger and he shivered. "I think they're beautiful Lucien." You hadn't realised how close he was to you until you could feel his breath on your face. "I'd like to kiss you, Y/N." He mumbled and your heart sang, but you couldn't let him, not like this. "I'd like to let you, Lucien but you're drunk and upset about Elain. It's not a good idea." He pulled back, clearly hurt by your rejection. "I can walk home." He states and went to undo his seatbelt when you stopped him by placing a small kiss just to the left of his mouth. "Kiss me when you're sober." He nodded dumbly. "Now, let's get you home."

"I still don't understand why we couldn't stop for McDonald's!" He was complaining as you dragged him to the top floor of his apartment building, you were cursing him again. "Because it's gone 5am and I want to go to sleep!" He laughed. "Where are your keys?" He wiggled his eyebrows. "In my pocket, want to get them?" You shoved his shoulder. "Lucien, the keys." You held your palm out to him and he huffed but got them out of his pocket for you and the two of you stumbled through the door of his apartment. It was so unbelievably him but you didn't have much time to take it in as he dragged you towards his room. "Stay." It wasn't a question. "What?" You raised an eyebrow at him. "I can't kiss you until I'm sober, which I will be in the morning so until then, sleep here, I'll sleep on the sofa!" You opened your mouth to argue with him but he was already pushing you gently into his bed and tucking you into his sheets. Once he was satisfied, he smiled down at you and turned to walk out of the room, stripping himself out of his clothes as he did so.

You tossed and turned for an hour, unable to get the cold out of your bones. You threw the sheets off of your body and padded into the living room, where you found Lucien asleep, on arm above his head, the other fisted into the blanket he was wrapped in. You really shouldn't but you couldn't resist, he looked so cozy and warm. He stirred as you picked up the corner of the blanket and laid yourself next to him, tucked into his side. His arm being above his head was a great help as you placed your head on his toned chest. "What are you doing?" He asked sleepily, his arm coming down to wrap around you and pulled you closer to him. "I'm cold." He shifted onto his side, wrapping both arms around you, your face fully buried into his chest, breathing him in. "Better?" He mumbled. "Much. Thank you." You mumbled back, placing a small kiss on his chest. "That's two proper kisses I owe you now." He told you sleepily and you smiled into his chest. "When your sober, Lucien." He chuckled. "I know." He breathed as he placed the tiniest of kisses to the top of your head. You definitely weren't going to your 9am class, opting instead to stay curled against the beautiful redhead next to you.

[floof-poof]

Meet Cute - Lucien Vanserra

A/N - just a cute little story about meeting Lucien, this could potentially have more parts, let me know if anyone would want that! No trigger warnings that I can think of.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A twig snapping nearby had drawn your attention away from the book you were so enamoured with and had pulled your dog's head from your lap, both trying to locate the source of the noise, having spotted nothing your dog resumed her snooze, head in your lap as you continue to take in your surroundings.

The woods outside of your village were beautiful, mysterious and dangerous, lying too close to a manor house that had been abandoned for years but if the rumors were to be believed, Fae had recently taken up residence there, it didn't stop you though, it didn't stop you making the almost hour trek to your favourite reading spot, a big Oak tree next to a stream of crystal water, it had always been peaceful here and had given you a reprieve from your mother who had recently started hinting about finding you a husband. You had no interest in such things, a dreamer she had called you when you'd told her that you wanted to marry for love like the heroines in your books "You are no heroine, Y/N" she has sighed at you, looking at your father for support, he merely chuckled and said "Leave the girl alone, she's happy in her dream world and she can stay with me for the rest of her life if she so wishes" as the youngest of 5 children and the only girl you were the apple of your father's eye and he would do anything for you, he'd lead your 4 overprotective brothers into battle for you if he had too.

Sighing, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched as you scratched, Winnie, the dog, behind her ears, she had been a gift from your oldest brother "For when you go into the woods" he had said "To keep you safe" you had told your parents you had found her, Winnie was your secret with your eldest brother.

Your mother would lose her mind if she knew you were coming out here, especially this deep into the woods, if you squinted you could just see the walls surrounding the manor. Your brother knew he could never talk you out of coming out here, so he'd given you Winnie instead.

You had often wondered what the grounds looked like behind the walls, it had been empty your entire life and you could imagine all the wildflowers growing freely and beautifully. Giving up trying to get back into your books you packed up your things and started the trek back to your home, feeling followed and watched the entire time, you walked faster than usual.

It was two days later, after your household chores you'd managed to escape back to the woods, following the familiar path back to your spot you breathed in taking in the smell of the leaves and the grass and you felt at home, you nearly fell over Winnie as she stopped dead in her tracks and sniffed the air, all of a sudden her tail started to wag and she took off into the woods, happy barks as she went, running after her you had burst into the clearing, wishing you had stopped to check before you were out in the open, you found your dog happily lying in front of the most beautiful male you had ever seen, he had a book in his lap and was sitting against your tree, fussing Winnie who was wagging her tail with her tongue hanging out of her mouth, lapping up the strangers attention, his eyes snapped to you as you tripped over a root and caught yourself as you came to a stop a short distance away.

His hair was like fire, little braids at the front and he had two different eyes, one russet and one metal, scars ran up and down his face from his metal eye his ears, they were pointed, Fae ears, he was nothing like the men back in your village who your mother would have you marry, as you continued to take him in you realised you might be in danger but you couldn't help but be captivated by the beauty of him, he stood, much to Winnie's disappointment and walked towards you, Winnie right by his side, as if she was his, not yours, traitor, you thought.

"You know, this is a good reading spot, no wonder you come here so often" his voice was like a melody and you just stared, he stood more than a foot taller than you and had realised that you were still scrambling for words "Would it be okay if I join you today?" He asked "I don't know you, you want to read with a stranger?" Was all you'd managed to come up with as a reply, he out stretched his hand towards you "I'm Lucien, tell me your name and we won't be strangers" you debated lying, you'd been told your whole life that giving a Fae your name was a terrible idea but you were also a dreamer and this was how some of your favourite books started "I'm Y/N and that's Winnie" you said as you took his calloused hand and shook it. The smile he gave you was breathtaking "She's lovely" he told you and you giggled "She's meant to be protection" he looked down at her and said "I don't think she'd be very good at that" you nodded in agreement.

[floof-poof]

Through The Dark

i made the mistake of listening to through the dark by one direction and this was born

The arena was quiet, a dim echo of footsteps fading down the hall as Y/N leaned against a wall, phone pressed to her ear. The day’s practice had drained her, but it wasn’t the drills or the rink. It was the constant barrage of sexist comments online, the whispers behind her back, the endless questions over whether she “belonged.” The idea that she wasn’t tough enough, wasn’t skilled enough—all of it had finally worked its way under her skin, leaving her feeling raw and vulnerable.

“Matt,” she whispered, her voice barely steady. “I thought I could handle it. But… I don’t know if I’m strong enough for this.”

On the other end, Matt’s voice was a steady hum of warmth and calm, his presence soothing even from miles away. “Hey, you don’t have to be strong alone. You’re not in this by yourself, okay?”

“I don’t want to be a burden, though,” she muttered, biting back the ache in her chest. “The guys already have enough on their plates without worrying about me. They think I’m… I don’t know, some unbreakable little sister who can take anything. I don’t want to let them down.”

Matt was quiet for a moment, his sigh full of tenderness. “Y/N, they’d want to know if you’re struggling. And I want you to know you don’t have to pretend with me. I’d carry you over fire and water if that’s what it takes. You’re not a burden. Not to me, not to them.”

“Maybe.” Her voice wavered, doubt still lingering. She thanked him, promising she’d let him know if things got worse, though she knew she’d keep holding it in, determined not to worry her team.

The next week, her frustration started bleeding into everything. Her usual easy laugh was nowhere to be found, and the weight of the comments had made her sharp, irritable. Nico was the first to notice, raising his brows when she brushed him off, ignoring his questions about why she seemed quieter than usual. Jack tried joking with her, poking her shoulder and teasing her, but she snapped, a harshness in her tone that silenced him. Even Dawson, normally so patient and easygoing, gave her a wary look when she brushed past him without her usual smile.

But Jack, relentless as ever, couldn’t stand seeing her struggle in silence. After practice, he intercepted her in the locker room, stepping into her path and folding his arms over his chest, his expression stern.

“Alright, Y/N. What the fuck is up?”

His words were blunt, but his tone was laced with a protective warmth that made her chest tighten. She hesitated, trying to hold back the tidal wave of emotions that had been building all week, but Jack didn’t budge, his steady gaze forcing the truth out of her.

She opened her mouth, the words caught in her throat, and then—she broke. The tears she’d held back spilled over, her shoulders shaking as she gasped out the words she hadn’t let herself say.

“It’s just… all the comments, Jack. All the hate, the judgment. They don’t think I belong here, that I’m not good enough. And I thought I could handle it, but it’s… it’s too much. I’m tired of pretending I’m okay.”

Jack’s expression softened, and he reached out, pulling her into his arms without a second thought. He held her close, his chin resting on her head as he let her cry, his hand rubbing gentle circles on her back.

“You don’t have to pretend around us, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice full of quiet strength. “We’ve got you. All of us. You’re family.”

She clung to him, the truth of his words sinking in, her heart aching with gratitude as the weight of her burden started to lift. Jack’s hold on her was a reminder she wasn’t alone—that she never had to be alone again.

Over the next few days, her teammates rallied around her, each of them lending their support in ways only they could. Nico would sit beside her in the locker room, wordlessly handing her Gatorade and giving her reassuring nods, his silent presence offering a steady source of comfort. Luke, ever the thoughtful one, showed up with her favorite snack, saying nothing about the tears he’d seen but making sure she knew he cared. And Dawson, with his goofy grin, doubled down on his ridiculous jokes, going out of his way to make her laugh even on the hardest days.

In the evenings, her phone buzzed with messages from across the country. Trevor sent a string of silly selfies and endless texts full of encouragement. Quinn called whenever he had a free moment, his calm voice a reassuring anchor. Matthew, never one for many words, sent her a simple message that struck straight to her heart: You’ve got nothing to prove. Just keep being you.

And Matt, her unwavering rock, was always there at the end of the day, his words gentle and grounding. “You’re strong, Y/N. Stronger than any of those comments. But don’t forget—strength isn’t just about standing alone. You’ve got me, and I’ll carry you through this if that’s what it takes.”

With each message, each shared laugh, each warm embrace, Y/N felt herself coming back to life, the pain of the comments fading into the background. She no longer had to shoulder the burden alone; her found family and the love she’d found with Matt wrapped around her like armor, stronger than anything that could be thrown her way. And as she took to the ice again, she skated with the confidence of someone who knew she belonged—not just to the team, but to a family who’d always be there to find a way through the dark with her.

[floof-poof]

Closed Until Further Notice

Oh my god this was WAY longer than anticipated and I wasn't planning on making it like spicy, but it's been a while so I threw some at the very end ;) this is Eris x Cafe Owner ! Reader / trope, it was very cute so I hope I captured the idea well enough for the anon who requested it!

Word Count: 10.3K

Warnings: Cursing, Smut

Eris wouldn’t say he frequented the small towns scattered throughout the Autumn Courts, nothing more than a yearly visit or two, normally just for an inspection called upon by his father. He usually came on horseback, flanked by his soldiers in their shining armor, and strolled through the town for a quick survey. He nodded politely, quick to make his way through the town without disturbing any of the residents. No matter how nice he was, how civil and respectful he was, they still cowered from him - hid in their homes and shut their shop doors when he passed through.

But there was one town, nestled just past the forest in the valley of the mountains right before the Winter Court, that Eris took his time visiting. That’s exactly what it was, in fact: a visit, not an inspection - no surveillance, no prying. He traveled there alone, winnowing to the outskirts of the village, taking his time walking down the main street. Stores and homes littered the dirt road, nearly frozen solid from the Winter wind that blew across the border; he walked along the stone sidewalk, past the brick houses and the shops built up from the redwood trees. 

At the center of the town stood the bakery, a hand painted sign that spelled it out in fine script. The chalkboard was propped open on the walkway, the specials written in swirly cursive. Eris bit the inside of his cheek to hide the smile that crawled up his lips, eyeing the Topfenstrudel you’d written no doubt early this morning - probably before he’d even woken up. You’d listed a few teas below it, fruit sauces, and spices to pair it with. 

Eris wouldn’t admit to it, but he’d patroned it more than the other little towns. It started once a year, just like everywhere else, but turned quarterly - monthly, even - after he visited your bakery. Small and tucked away, next to a butcher’s shop on one side and a bookstore on the other, your cafe was lined with tables and plush chairs, golden faelights and fresh flowers strewn across the space. 

He slipped through the door quickly, trying not to let out the heat from the small fire in the hearth beside the counter. “Good morning,” you called from the back kitchen, not visible from the doorway. “I’ll be with you in a minute!” Eris hummed in response, throwing a tiny ring of fire at the dimming flame. He noted the heat immediately, a welcome shiver down his spine at the feeling. He shook off the cold, shoving his hands in his pockets and pacing a few steps around the cafe. 

He had half a mind to bring you flowers this time - though, he’d been telling himself that the past three visits. His mother had clipped some hydrangeas from her garden, had them laid out along the long table in her drawing room. He should have just swiped a few, winnowed out before she would even notice, but he thought against it, didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or think he was trying something. 

Not that he wasn’t, necessarily - he should - gods, he wanted to. But the only thing you knew about him was that he was the High Lord’s son, he didn’t want to accept your advances because you felt like you had to. 

You popped around the corner, stopping in front of the counter wiping your hands on your apron. Your mouth opened and shut quickly, eyes wide at the sight of him. But he didn’t miss the blush that crawled up your cheeks, the small flustered smile when his fiery gaze met yours. “Oh - I didn’t - sorry to keep you waiting,” you said, shaking your head slightly. 

Eris smiled and relaxed his shoulders. “I wasn’t, don’t worry.” He’d counted down each minute - all forty-four thousand of them - until he saw you again. 

“You’re early,” you replied, pressing your hands against the counter, shuffling the random pile of papers before you.

He shrugged, eyes falling to the counter, watching how you moved the papers, each scrawled with a different recipe or note, and pushed them to the side. “Long day ahead - I wanted to make sure I got the strudel before you ran out.” 

The High Lord’s son typically came closer to closing, when just a few customers lingered around. Some ducked out quickly, afraid of the tall male’s presence; others stayed, tucked away in the dimly lit corners of the cafe, watching the handsome male from just over the rim of their coffee up. He usually ordered a tea - something chamomile or tisane - along with a pastry or two, and always tried the daily special. 

But you opened at six in the morning, and Eris strolled in just three minutes past. 

“Then what else can I get for you, Eris?” He almost melted on the spot - his name dripped like honey off your lips. You’d exchanged names and gotten past formalities a few months ago, when you’d started greeting him more like a friend than the High Lord’s son. 

He figured he’d never get anywhere with you if he kept lingering around the bakery before closing, when your neighbors sat watching his every move. 

“I’ll have a coffee, please.” You quirked a brow at the male, surprised at the change in order, though you supposed it was too early for a sleepy tea. 

You watched him ruffle around in his pocket for some change, the heavy gold coins shaking in his hand. He dipped his head to count the money, you watched the red locks of hair fall over his brow. You tipped your head back to look up at him, watch the fire’s shadows dance over his carved cheekbones, kissing his straight nose. 

You were able to see him clearly in the morning light; you could count the freckles across his cheeks, and oh how you longed to. He looked so different at night, when the sun was gone and the only light came from the red fire and amber faelights, as well as his glowing eyes. “And how do you take your coffee?” You watched his throat work, his eyes roam over your features. 

Eris pressed his tongue behind his teeth. “How you take yours.” 

“Milk and sugar?” You hummed, raising your brow, smiling at the male. While he savored the sweets you served him, you would have assumed he went for the more bitter taste. 

To be fair, he did. He just wanted to know how you liked yours, should he ever have the chance to make it for you himself. 

Preferentially in his bed. 

And nude. 

“Milk and sugar,” he replied with a small nod but a broad smile. 

Your eyes flitted between him and the mess on the counter in front of you - yet his red eyes never left yours, his gaze burning into you. You couldn’t help but blush, the heat emitted from his body calling to you, for you to throw yourself into him and feel his arms around you. The chill from the Winter Court was strong that morning, you’d wanted nothing more than to linger around the warm ovens all morning. But the cafe felt warmer, like it always did when he visited; you weren’t sure if it was his fire powers or just him. 

How much you wanted to touch him. 

“Coming right up.” You offered him a smile before trotting off to the kitchen, setting the grounds up over the set of mugs. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Your voice carried quietly from the back kitchen, just audible above the cracking fire. Eris’s eyes swiped around the cafe, over the small tables and iron chairs, never having seen the shop empty before. But he took a seat against the window, the seats shrouded with pillows with stacks of books adorning the tabletop. Your scent lingered across the space, bright and fruity with a hint of cinnamon. 

He tried not to stare at the counter across the shop, watch and wait for you to appear in the doorway to return. Eris tried to busy himself, glancing at each of the plants hanging from baskets, the flowers that he tried to remember, the sound of his mother reciting each name in the back of his mind. 

You piled the mugs and plates on a small wooden tray and made your way back to the tiny dining area, weaving through the tables to meet him in the corner. His thick brows raised in surprise as he noticed the amount of goodies on the tray, scrambling to stand and take it from you. But you shooed him off, setting everything down between you and ushering him to sit when you took the seat across from him. 

You never thought you’d meet a member of Autumn royalty, let alone one that fretted over you carrying a small try and who stood whenever you entered the room. 

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he said, quietly, almost unsure of how the word was supposed to sound - like it was foreign. But your pointed ears flexed, unable to miss the small sentiment, no matter how unusual it tasted on his tongue, he was trying. 

“You’re welcome, Eris,” you replied simply, handing him a mug, taking the matching one for yourself. There were a couple strudels on a plate, paired with a bowl of fruit, and some macaroons, a couple pumpkin tarts fresh from the oven on the side. 

He noticed how you pulled your strudel in half, how your shoulders shrugged slightly when you tasted it, the warm dough relaxing the cold chill that stiffened your spine. You couldn’t help but watch his hands work before you, pulling apart his pastry, just as you did, how he picked up the coffee cup loosely in those long fingers, pale knuckles and veins lining his big hands. You cradled your own mug in both hands, half needing the warmth from the side of the cup, the other half needing the grasp on reality, keeping you grounded - keeping your mind from wandering too far. 

His gaze washed over you, watching as you zoned out, staring into the space between you. “Were you here early this morning?” 

You blinked once, twice, trying to pull your eyes away from the male’s hands. “Yeah.” You huffed a laugh, sipping from the much needed coffee. “I start baking at four - got here at three though.” You eyed the pastry he’d picked up. “These were a bit more difficult than what I usually try for.”

“It’s excellent,” he said, taking a bite of the flaky pastry. “Very much worth the extra time, in my opinion.”

“I’m glad you came today.” Eris’s red eyes sparkled at your words, he felt the fire roar through his veins and crawl up his cheeks. 

Me too. He ached; wanted to find out everything about you, about your life, what you liked and what you didn’t, your family, what made you tick, what made you smile, how you tasted, how you’d look in his bed, on his lap. 

But before the male could even think of a response, the door swung open, followed by a gust of wind. Your eyes shot to the door immediately, assessing who came in, interrupting (what Eris believed to be, at least) a pleasant conversation. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Aldrich,” you greeted the old female, bundled up in her coat and wrapped in what looked like two scarves. Your eyes dropped to Eris once more as you pushed yourself from the table, sauntering off to the counter to serve her. 

But Eris decided to only wait a few moments longer, downing the rest of his coffee and finishing the treats on the table before stacking the bowls and plates. He ran his hands over the sides of his corduroy pants, unsure of whether to bring them to you in the kitchen, whether he should even go out of his way to say goodbye. He felt the Fae female staring at him, too afraid to say anything, but watching his every move. So he buttoned his jacket, preparing to leave before anyone else could come to the cafe to study him. 

He turned to the female, offering his a polite bow of his head in greeting, which she returned with a small curtsey. “Bye Eris,” you called, poking your head around the corner from the kitchen, arms working to tie a white apron around your waist. 

His eyes found yours, sparkling in the morning light that shines from the front windows. “Bye (Y/N), thanks again.” He offered you a smile before he ducked out the short front door. 

Eris felt Mrs. Aldrich’s eyes move back and forth between the two of you. 

_________________________

The next time he came by, it was still just as cold and just as early. He tried to take his time walking to the shop, but he couldn’t slow himself down - his hands itched, flexing at his sides, simmering with heat that poured out of him. The pocket watch in the front of his jacket told him he was a few minutes early, so he lingered along the cobblestones, kicking at the loose rocks on the sidewalk. 

The lights in the cafe were on, but the specials sign was missing and the Closed sign hung across the green door. He chewed on his bottom lip, shoving his hands inside his pockets and turning on his heel. He thought maybe he should just leave, not wait around like a creep, and solicit the peaceful town. 

“Eris?” 

The male’s head lifted as he turned over his shoulder, meeting your soft smile. He lifted a hand to run through his messy red hair, pushing it away from his eyes. “Hey (Y/N), good morning,” he stumbled over his words, too focused on his racing heart - beating almost as rapidly as the first day he saw you. 

You held the door open with your foot - the tip of your brown boot covered in flour, as the hem of your skirt was - and moved to pull the chalkboard through the door. The High Lord’s son pulled it from your hands, grabbing it easily with on and moving it as though it weighed nothing. He fixed it up on the sidewalk before turning to you with a smile. “Apricot sachertorte?”

You beamed at him, proud of your newest sweet treat, and propped your hands on your hips. You almost didn’t notice the Winter Court chill seeping through your clothes. You felt the heat he emitted, centuries of fire burning through him, drawing you to him. “You like chocolate, no?”

Eris ushered you inside, noting your missing coat when his eyes drew up and down your body. The dress you wore was thin, tight. Dusted with ingredients and a messy apron. He swallowed, forced some air into his lungs, and forced himself to not stare when you led him inside. “I have a certain weakness when it comes to chocolate.” And you. 

He rolled his eyes inwardly at himself - how his father would have killed him for even making a joke about having a terminal flaw. But he’d developed enough of a friendship that he’d actually made you laugh, and it was a sound he’d say nearly anything to hear it again. 

“Perfect then, take a seat and I’ll get some coffee for us.” Eris sighed in sweet relief, thanking you for saving him from having to ask you to sit with him again. 

You were quick to return with two mugs and two plates, one exceptionally large slice of the torte accompanied by a smaller one. He was quick to help you, settling into the table across from the fireplace. You’d hummed when you sat down, relaxing into the iron chair, and the male couldn’t help but wonder if it was the first time you’d sat down all morning. You drank your coffee like it came from the Mother herself, savoring the rich taste. “This is probably the fourth cup I’ve had this morning.” 

Eris wasn’t surprised. He was in the same boat himself, actually. He hadn’t been able to sleep all last night, not with the anticipation of seeing you. He’d forced his night owl of a brother to spar with him, tire himself out wielding the heavy steel sword. He’d fussed over battle plans and boring court papers. When that didn’t work, he’d even found himself in the kitchen, attempting what was intended to be a galette. When that didn’t work out, he gave up and laid in bed for a few more hours. He was tired, sure, but couldn’t fall asleep. 

“You ought to take a day off, sleep in,” he replied, taking a bite of the layered chocolate cake. Gods, if that was the last meal he’d eat, he’d be beyond satisfied. 

You shrugged, finger tracing the rim of your cup. “I could… but I just love it too much - even if I have to wake up early for it.” Eris nodded along. “Besides, what if you came by the shop and I was closed?”

He shifted in his chair, trying to settle the burn in his chest. “You’re right - ” he tried to play it off casually. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself without your pastries.” Another job well done, he cursed himself. 

You smiled sweetly, propping your elbow up on the table and resting your head against your knuckles. “So tell me, Eris. What’s on today’s agenda? I can hardly believe you came all this way just for coffee and chocolate.” 

Oh how wrong you were. He’d go to the ends of Prythian just to spend one moment with you. 

“Taking care of some errands for my father,” he began, not interested in divulging too much. You understood, and simply nodded along, taking whatever he’d be willing to give out. “I have a meeting in the Winter Court.” 

“Ah, just a stop along the way, then.” He wasn’t sure if he heard faint disappointment laced in your voice, or if it was just what he’d been hoping to hear. 

“Well - yes, but…” It was one of those rare moments where Eris didn’t know what to say. “But I wish I could come more - I don’t want to bother you. I know a lot of your customers are uneasy when I stop by - ”

You cut him off, sitting straight in your chair. “You’re not - I love when you visit, Eris.” You fought against all your instincts to reach across the table and grab his hand. 

It was his turn to blush. Maybe he was overheating, what with all the layers and sitting in front of the fire. Or perhaps it was your bright eyes staring at him, burning into him, starting straight into the depths of his soul. “I wish I could stay longer, I’d like to - ”

But that godsdamned door opened again, a group of Fae walked in, conversation abruptly stopping when they noticed the fiery-haired male sitting at the table across from you. Eris stood in one swift motion, abandoning his fork and empty plate behind him. He noticed the young female that walked in, orange hair wild around her ears, starting straight at you, wiggling her eyebrows. 

When he tossed a look over his shoulder at you, he saw your pink cheeks, chin tucked close to your chest. “Your highness,” one of the males began, bowing to Eris.

His friend smacked him in the chest, grimacing at his friend’s actions. “Shut up.”

Another female interrupted all of them, smiling broadly at Eris. “Good morning, sir,” she said sweetly, dipping slightly in greeting. 

Eris had never felt more awkward in his life. He’d been trained in court politics, to lead armies, to host High Lord meetings on behalf of his father, to speak in front of hundreds of Fae. But never to talk with teenage Fae. 

“Good morning,” he replied as politely as he could, shifting his weight from foot to foot. But he recalled his courtier training, standing tall and holding his chin high. 

He got a small confidence boost though, as the other males tilted their heads back to look up at him, and cowered a few steps backward. And although Eris was normally cocky enough to have loved to inflict that kind of response on others, it wasn’t what he should be displaying in front of a female he was trying to impress. 

“I have to be getting on my way, (Y/N),” he finished, turning back to look at you. “Thanks for the coffee.” He smirked, watching as you glared at your friend - the one whose eyes kept flitting between you and the High Lord’s son. 

Your attention was drawn back to Eris and he threw a wink your way before he left the cafe.  

_________________________

He winnowed back just after the sun had set, when the chill from the mountains was visible in each breath he took. Eris appeared right in front of your shop door, where the lights were dimmed and the sign on the door read Closed. 

Fuck, he’d cursed himself, fifteen minutes late. He’d rushed back as fast as he could, after having spent the day in the Winter Court, useless meetings with Kallias and his staff. Eris had nearly run out of the meeting room, winnowing before he’d even left the table and made it close to the door. 

But you’d spotted him, the brown wool coat and dark red hair from the window. You almost skipped to the door, something between a hop and a half-jog, making your way to the door before he’d off and disappeared again. “Eris, wait!” You’d called, unlocking the door and poking your head through. 

He smiled when he turned around, meeting you in the doorway. You held a broom in your hand, obviously close to leaving for the evening. No matter how tired you were, there was no doubt in his mind that you’d had a busy day, you still greeted him with a cheery smile. 

“I just wanted to,” he began, digging his hand through his pocket and pulling out a handful of gold coins. “For this morning.” 

You shook your head, but took his wrist in your hand, pulling him through the door. Your fingers sparked when you felt his warm skin against yours. “You visiting is quite enough - ”

Eris groaned, wishing you’d held onto him for just a little bit longer. “I don’t need special treatment.”

You rolled your eyes. “I can’t be nice to you anymore, Eris?”

He smiled, sharp teeth glinting in the dim faelight. “Are you being nice to me or being nice to my family?” 

He watched you tut, giving him an indiscreet up and down. It almost made him nervous. “Just you.” And Eris smiled at that, his own selfishness getting the best of him, but glad you had invited him in. “I like when you visit. You don’t do it enough.” 

You’d set the broom against the table, hands clasped in front of you trying your damnedest not to look like a giddy child in a candy shop. Eris glowed, watching your movements, daring to see how much else you’d reveal to him. 

Eris was too busy staring at you, committing every feature of yours to memory, to respond. “How about some tea?” You asked, already making your way to the kitchen. 

“Please,” he nearly sighed, and no matter how happy and excited he was to be back at your bakery, he was still beat from a day of Winter Court bullshit. 

You disappeared only momentarily, returning just after you’d set the kettle over the stovetop, with two mugs in hand. You set them on the table by the window, the seats both cushioned with freshly fluffed pillows. Eris joined you, eyeing the loose tea leaves at the bottom of the cups, a mixture of chamomile flowers, linden leaves, and peppermint. 

He smiled gratefully, seeing your body relax once you’d slid into the chair across from him. “You like it here?” Eris couldn’t help but ask. You seemed to work yourself into exhaustion, rising before the sun, staying past dusk, holed away in the quaint cafe. It was a small town, too far from the other Autumn villages to easily visit - though, he supposed there would be plenty of adventure in the woods beyond and the mountains between Winter. That ought to be dangerous, especially given the fact that if Beron found out about his subjects crossing the border, he’d outright banish or kill them. 

You smiled back at the High Lord’s son, him looking equally as tired as you must have. Light purple lined the tops of his cheekbones, starkly contrasting his otherwise luminous pale skin. His brows were taught, pulled together as if really contemplating your answer - or perhaps overthinking his question. He’d forgotten his coat on the back of his chair, a dark blazer underneath. His eyes glowed, his red irises burning brighter as the light from the windows faded.

“I do,” you hummed, content with your little date. 

But the screeching of the kettle interrupted you, and right as you placed your hands on the table to push yourself up, Eris stopped you. “Let me, please.” Before you could even respond, he was already on his feet, rushing off into the back kitchen to pull the kettle off.

He returned with the kettle in one hand and a bottle of honey in the other. He poured your cup first and then his, setting the hot water to the side. Surely, should you let him stay long enough, it would be easy enough for him to reheat later. 

“You were saying?” He continued, eyes locked on the mug before him, dropping in a swirl of honey to his tea. 

You bit your lip, pushing your mug closer to him. His eyes flitted up to you once before he repeated the action. “I like it here. It’s small - I know all of my customers by now. All of their names, their orders, it’s like a little family.” 

Eris nodded along, leaning back in his chair. “No problems with the Winter Court?” 

You rolled your eyes. I have more problems with the current court, if we were being honest. “It’s cold,” you replied. “It’s quiet. But far away enough that we aren’t…” You bit your tongue. “Not that there’s anything wrong with - ”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Eris replied, not shocked with your response. “I understand.”

Just like any other Fae on the continent, he reminded himself: scared of his father. He wasn’t surprised, this would be the perfect town to escape Beron’s tight holds. It wasn’t close enough that he kept it under his nose, monitoring the town and the villagers. It wasn’t particularly useful to him - no major crops or orchards, maybe lumber from the redwoods, but there were far closer regions he could busy himself with. 

But he saw how quickly your brows raised and cheeks turned red at your comment. It was almost as if you’d forgotten he was the High Lord’s son up until that moment. 

Eris was ashamed to carry the Vanserra name. 

He finished off his tea, suddenly uncomfortable with keeping you so late. Maybe the reason you were so nice to him was because of who his father was. You were hosting him out of formality, not friendship or desire - you were probably afraid he’d go running back to the Forest House with your name at the top of his list. 

You reached a hand out to him, watching his lips turn into a frown and his brows narrow as he lost himself in thought. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“If there is anyone who gets it, (Y/N), believe me - I do.” He took a long sip from the mug in his hand, set it down silently, and pushed himself from the seat. His hands fumbled over his coat, swinging it over his shoulders and fastening it shut. “I don’t want to keep you any longer - I’ve intruded quite enough.” He turned to the door, to avoid watching you awkwardly scramble to your feet. The sky was dark, the only light along the street was the glow from the faelights in the windows of the houses along the way. He turned back on his heel to face you, staring up at him, bewildered. “Can I at least walk you home?”

You pressed your lips together, clasping your hands in front of you. “I live upstairs, actually.”

“Ah.” It was all that came from him, which left the male cursing himself once more. Fucking idiot. “Well thank you again, (Y/N).” Back to formalities, back to square one. 

You nodded once more, watching as he turned to the door. As he reached for the handle, you stopped him, grabbing his other hand. His skin was burning hot and sent sparks into you. “You’re welcome anytime here, Eris.” You waited until he turned around, fully acknowledging your words. “And not just because of who your father is.” 

Eris nodded, albeit a bit numbly, as you sent his mind reeling the moment he felt your fingers grasp his. Should I do it?

He wanted to kiss you so badly. So badly that his fingers itched to grab you and pull you against him. You batted your eyelashes at him, all innocent as if you had no idea what you were doing. Maybe you weren’t doing anything - no signals, no invitation to kiss you, love you, fuck you. 

It was all in his head, it had to be. 

He couldn’t compromise your innocence, not when he’d already been seen alone in the cafe with you twice in one day. He could only imagine what the other Fae were thinking, how he’d either besmirched your reputation or created a scandal in the small town. 

“Then I’ll be sure to return more often.” With that, he gave your fingers a squeeze and turned - forcing every fiber of his being not to take you with him. 

_________________________

Eris couldn’t sleep again. Gods, he felt ill. 

He was clammy all over - absolutely disgusting. He’d forced himself from bed and into the bath, letting the cold water wash over him and take away whatever it was he was feeling. His heart was racing out of his chest, his breathing was jagged - it was unlike any other fever he’d had. 

And then he felt it, laying in the cold water of the porcelain tub. It felt like a rubber band snapped against his ribcage. It winded him, had him lurching forward and clutching his chest. He figured the copper taste in his mouth was a figment of his imagination, being no stranger to the taste of blood. Maybe he bit his tongue when he felt the snap, it had his heart lurching upwards into his scarred throat. 

Eris’s fingers gripped the edge of the cold bathtub - he felt the water turning hotter by the second. He couldn’t control the heat that emitted from his body, the simmering flames smothered in his palms. 

That was it.

That was it. 

He wasn’t dying - not if you could call being utterly grossly in love dying. 

His heart hammered in his chest and the fire roared through his veins. It felt like he was suffocating, sure, but it felt good. His hands were shaking, and he knew the only cure would be to have you in them. You were the one who could teach him how to breathe again.

He huffed a long shaky breath, leaning back in the tub until his back touched the now warm ceramic. Curls of steam began to dance on the surface of the water that seemed to be rippling in time with his heartbeat. 

Eris shut his eyes, trying his damndest to clear his head, to calm the fuck down. But all he saw was you, the flour that dusted your cheek, the apron wrapped so tight around your waist he wished it were his hands. He thought of your cheeks, rosy and red from the ovens, your plump lips sipping on tea, how sweet you looked drinking your milky coffee. Then he remembered the shape of your brow, how it quirked downwards when you’d mentioned his father, how you gnawed on that bottom lip of yours when he’d been in such a rush to leave. 

But it didn’t matter what you thought of his father, of the whole damned Autumn Court itself. He’d get on his knees before you to beg, plead for you to understand - it’s not his fault, it’s not him. 

So that’s what he set off to do. 

He pushed himself from the near boiling water, haphazardly drying himself off as he skitted to the wardrobe. He flung it open, opting for a casual pair of brown trousers and a white linen shirt. He ought to be prepared to do a lot of begging, spending the whole morning on his knees begging for you to accept him as a mate, begging for a taste. 

_________________________

It was only seven hours since you’d seen Eris, the whole time you’d spent thinking of him and replaying your latest conversation. It was very much the same after each time you’d seen him, spending the evening tossing and turning, picturing his red hair and soft smile, the freckles over his cheeks and that little scar under his eye. You imagined what it would be like to hold him in your arms, laying on top of you, suffocating you in the best way; you pictured what it’d be like for him to hold you, laying behind you, arms wrapped fully around you, holding you against his chest. 

But you laid in bed alone, staring at the clock until the golden hands ticked to three o’clock. 

You pushed the covers from yourself, shivering at the cold that swept through your bones. You’d gotten better at fighting that fight, the urge to stay in bed and revel in your warmth instead of forcing yourself downstairs at such an early hour. The warm ovens called to you, but you’d have to overcome the chill of the nearly Winter air and the cold hardwood floor. 

You wondered if it would be warmer with Eris there. As if the male just naturally heated every room he walked into - 

No. 

You shook your head, trying to rid the thoughts of the Autumn heir from your mind. You’d only distract yourself. You knew the visit yesterday would have to last you for the rest of the month. You could only begin to count down the days until you anticipated his return. 

So instead, you shuffled down the stairs, pulling open your recipe book and setting out a few bowls. You hadn’t decided the day before what you were making yet - not like you usually did. Your mind had been much too occupied. You settled on figuring it out later, just starting with something simple and figuring out a custard later. With flour dusting the counter, you rolled out some dough, working it until it was so thin that it was almost transparent. A simple croissant surely would do, you’d thought. Maybe you could use up some of the pumpkin or raspberries…

You’d gone rifling around for inspiration when you felt a shiver down your spine. It wasn’t the cold of the early morning, nor the chill from the produce cooler. No - it was the hard knock on the door, rattling the closed sign against the wooden frame. 

You bit your lip, debating wiping out all the Faelights - that no doubt alerted whoever was outside that you were in. But you had no choice, as the knock sounded again, softer this time, but still enough to prove your visitor’s determination to talk to you. 

Not once in your centuries of owning the cafe had you had a morning visitor. Nobody had ever shown up before opening, especially not at three in the godsdamned morning.

All you could do was grab your stone rolling pin from the counter, holding it between your two shaky hands as you trotted quietly to the door. But as you stepped around the counter and wove through the tables, you’d spotten a tuft of red hair through the window. 

Red hair, pale skin, long coat, the smell of firewood and burnt sage. 

Your heart stuttered, pure shock replaced with utter bewilderment. Your throat tightened, nervous as to what he may be visiting for - what you may have said that offended him. Then you sighed, dropping your head to stare at the thick cotton dress you wore, the wool sock on your feet. Fuck, you huffed, blowing a piece of hair out of your face. The Mother could not have prepared you less. 

All you could do was pull the door open, holding the rolling pin behind your back. 

And when the door swung open, the cold coming in immediately, Eris’s eyes were blown wide. The red around his dilated pupils glowing against the dark of night. Gods you were so fucking beautiful. His gaze roamed over your messy hair, the loose dress that hung over your shoulders, the cozy looking socks on your feet. 

“Hey,” he said, quieter than intended. He cleared his throat, stepping closer, arms tightly pressed behind his back. “Sorry to - interrupt.” He couldn’t stop - his eyes were roaming, frantically moving between yours, trying not to wander over your body, his mind was reeling, heart was pounding out of his chest. His cheeks were flushed, breathing ragged - the bond was fucking with him. Absolutely fucking with him - he wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to stand in front of you much longer without having to get his hands on you. “I regretted leaving so abruptly last night. I stayed late and should have at least helped you clean up.”

You smiled. He was so serious. Those red eyebrows were raised, mouth parted, almost frowning at the corners - so distraught. “Don’t make a fuss about it - I just like your company.” I miss when you’re not here. I miss your visits. 

I missed you. 

The corner of his mouth turned up, gaze softening at your apparent forgiveness. He took a step closer, closing the distance between you. He moved his arm from behind his back, holding up a bundle of blue-ish hydrangeas - the flowers he hadn’t stopped thinking about bringing you. 

It wasn’t inconspicuous, like he hoped it would be. His mother caught on immediately, asking him why he kept inquiring about her flowers, what she’d pulled from the garden. Who are you bringing them for? He’d rolled his eyes at her, scoffing. I’m not bringing them to anyone, mother. I can’t show interest in the garden? So he’d been deterred from bringing them. He didn’t want to draw attention to it - to you - especially not from his father or courtiers. 

Until that night - until he had the perfect opportunity, when everyone was asleep, to snatch them from the table and winnow straight to you.

Your eyes fell to the bunch of flowers, jaw dropped, unable to speak. What did you say? What does one say to the High Lord’s son who brings you flowers. He brought you flowers. You simply couldn’t find the words. But when you looked back up at him, having to tilt your head upwards to meet his gaze, he looked so scared - unsure if you’d accept them, as if he’d made some horrible mistake. 

And you couldn’t help but laugh, having to bite your lip to stop yourself. You didn’t take the flowers, you took his hand, that warm, blazing hot hand, and pulled him inside. “Well, no point in letting all the heat out.” And as if on cure, he lit up, warmth erupting from him, his chest radiating heat into your hand and arm. “Thank you, Eris, I… don’t even know what to say.” You pulled your fingers away from his, taking the bunch of flowers in your free hand.

But you had to place the rolling pin down, having to set it on the table closest to the door. His brows rose. “Preparing for battle, I see.” He surveyed the white stone, nodding his head in approval when he heard the clang of the marble against the iron table. 

You huffed a breathy laugh, ushering him inside and placing them in one of the empty vases from the bookshelf in the corner. You’d set it up on the counter, where everyone would be able to see the beautiful flowers Eris had brought for you. “I was hoping,” he began from behind you, hands shoved into his pants pockets, boot kicking at the thick grout between the stones on the floor. “You might let me help you this morning.”

You turned on your heel, spinning around so fast that you’d nearly startled the normally steadfast male. “You want to help me?”

He nodded. “I’m not very useful - I wouldn’t say I’m the best baker.” He held his hands up in surrender. “I used to help my mother bake apple pie but - ” he finished with a shrug, laughing through his own awkwardness. 

You couldn’t stop your smile. “Of course you can, Eris.” 

And truth be told, the male wasn’t bad. He’d kneaded the dough, he’d prepared the raspberry filling, and even mixed some fresh whipped cream. He’d followed all your instructions and even prepared you a cup of tea in the meantime, while you worked on your own dough at the opposite side of the counter. 

You’d spent far too long watching his hands knead the soft pastry, his long fingers and large knuckles flexing as he pushed the dough around. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his linen shirt, forearms working with each move. You couldn’t help but notice the few missed buttons at the top of his shirt, pale collar bones peeking out. You’d made out some ridges over his skin, down his neck and tucked away underneath the fabric of his shirt. You couldn’t get a good look at it, not with the dimmed lights and loose shirt. 

He made light conversation, asking about the town, who your favorite patrons were. You’d asked him similar questions, how he likes fencing and polo, he’d indulged you in some childhood stories of wrestling his brothers in the Autumn rain - how they’d tracked mud through the entirety of the Forest House. When it came to his parents, though, the topic was off limits, as he’d scoffed and asked about your parents instead. 

By then, the hours had easily slipped past you - the pastries cooling after their bout in the ovens. Eris leaned against the counter, watching as you sliced the baked pumpkin you held in front of you, scooping the soft contents into a bowl to begin your filling mixture. 

His eyes watched your hands work, unable to meet your eyes, afraid of your response. “I have a confession.” 

You looked up only momentarily, not a stutter in the whisk as you continued mixing. “Confess away,” you replied softly, heart suddenly lurching into your chest. 

He swallowed thickly, but raised his gaze to your face - your focused look - as you stared back down at the bowl. “I - last night after I left - there was a…” He trailed off, sucking in a deep breath. “I felt the…” Eris’s throat was closing. His heart was beating so fast, so hard, that he thought it would break all of his ribs. “I believe we’re mates, (Y/N).”

Your breath caught in your throat, suddenly all air evaded you and your heart seemed to stop. Mates? Mates? Gods, you knew you liked Eris - who wouldn’t? The male was beautiful and tall and kind and -

You swallowed hard. To hide your shaking hands, you continued working on the pastries. You kept you eyes sole trained on the table in front of you, fearful that if you looked up, if you saw those red eyes before you, that you’d surely crumble away in a fit of tears, laughter - you weren’t quite sure.

You were elated.

So fucking elated, in fact, that you didn’t know what to do.

But you didn’t respond. You didn’t make a move - not an eyebrow raise, not a quirk of your lips, nothing. “I know we don’t really know each other - I’ve wanted to stay longer, believe me.” The male rambled on, filling the silence you’d offered. “I just felt this thing last night after I left and it’s been eating me away since and I already knew that I cared for you so much and you’re so - fuck, so godsdamned beautiful but I - ”

You straightened, pulling your shoulders back and dropping the whisk. “It’s okay, Eris.”

His eyes widened. “It’s okay?” What the fuck did that mean?

You’d turned to grab a pastry off the rack - the one you’d kneaded, the one that turned out so much flakier and taller than his. “It’s okay.” You smiled, though, but didn’t falter in your movements, continuing to assemble what looked like a dessert sandwich. 

He stared incredulously at you. “Did you… hear what I said?” 

And so you laughed, a light giggle that had Eris reeling. You pushed over the pumpkin Mille-Feuille, nodding at him as he stared at it like it was otherworldly. “You told me one time you liked the pumpkin turnovers because it was your favorite Autumn Court fruit.”

The male was bug-eyed. “This is for me?”

You nodded.

“Just for me?”

Again, with a smile, you nodded. 

Eris looked between you and the fluffy pastry. “For me?” He raised a hand and gestured between the two of you. 

“Yes, Eris. I made you a pumpkin pastry. For you.” His cheeks tinged pink, but let out a breathy sigh of relief. You added for clarification: “Not on the menu.”

Gods, yes. It was the only thought running through his mind. 

“And even in all that rambling, you haven’t asked me to be your mate,” you continued, voice raised an octave, teasing the poor nervous male. He opened his mouth to interrupt - to ask - but you cut him off. “I would love to be, Eris Vanserra.”

And while his heart rate didn’t slow down, he calmed, shoulders relaxed and eyes shut in relaxation. His hands fell to the treat before him, staring at the perfect little pastry. He could finally breathe again - as if in the past three minutes he’d been stilled, lungs, hands, and mind unable to work properly. 

But Eris dug in anyway, picking up the soft treat like it was the most delicate thing in the world. He took a big bite, holding his free hand underneath, catching all the flakes that broke off, saving every bite. He chewed slowly, licking his lips to savor the pumpkin flavor and the light pastry. His eyes fell to yours, wide and wanting, watching you like a hawk.

You didn’t dare move, frozen in place as the male ate. 

As the bond solidified.

As he became your mate.

By the time he’d finished, his breathing was ragged and he had to press his hands against the counter to keep his balance. You watched his chest rise and fall, the linen shirt loose on his frame but hugged his broad shoulders. Those red eyes burned into yours, as though waiting for you to make the first move. 

Or waiting for your permission. 

So you took a step backward, pushing yourself from where you’d been nearly clinging onto the counter, where it was holding you upright. And as soon as you’d freed yourself from the confines of the countertop, he’d pounced. Eris felt like leaping across the counter and pulling you into his arms. Instead, which might have cost his last ounce of decency, he’d taken the few long strides towards you and grabbed you. 

To be fair, he was as tender as he could have been, what with his heart beating up into his throat and his lungs burning, winding his arms around your back, fingers gripping the cotton that hung loose on your frame. His head dipped, immediately catching your lips with his. You were quick to follow his lead, throwing your arms around his neck and rising on your tiptoes to meet him. 

Gods, he was warm - it was all that you could think of. His heat spread into you, the physical heat, but also those internal flames, the warmth that formed in the center of your chest as the bond built itself between the two of you. Sparks sizzled between you, and you were sure you felt them when your lips met in a fiery kiss. 

Your fingers threaded through your hair as his hands roamed your back. He tasted like cinnamon, like the pumpkin from your mating food, the burnt sage that mirrored in his scent, that filled the cafe as soon as he walked through the door. 

“I don’t know anything about you,” you breathed, a soft sigh against his lips as his mouth skimmed your bottom lip, over your chin, down across your jaw. 

He released something half crossed between a moan and a sigh. “We have time to talk about me,” he whispered against your ear, biting at your soft flesh. “Later.” His lips ran over your cheek again, and he left a sloppy kiss on your lips. “Much, much later.” 

You hummed in response, pressing yourself to his front again, chest, stomachs, legs - all of it. Eris groaned, sinking down on his knees, stopping when he was eye level with you. His red irises burned with an eternal flame, burned into you with the promise of forever. He wrapped his arms fully around your waist, his elbows at your ribs and knees on either side of your legs. He tilted his head forward, only until your lips met, noses brushing against each other. 

Your lips parted on instinct alone, the breath pulled from your lungs when his lips met yours - so soft, barely meeting at all. You could have cried, screamed, grabbed his hair and pulled him further against you. But all he gave you was a touch, so close your eyelashes nearly tangled. His mouth brushed yours again and you snapped - arms linked around him still, pulling him against you. “Upstairs?” You asked, fully against his mouth, the word muffled between your lips and heavy breaths. 

He shook his head, still not breaking the kiss. His hands ran down the small of your back and over your ass, cupping the back of your thighs and pulling you upwards, setting you on the counter in front of him. Eris let his fingers find the hem of your nightgown, trailing over the skin of your bare flesh. You were burning hot, like you ran a fever at his touch. In the cold air, his touch sent shivers down your spine. 

“I can’t wait, (Y/N).” His lips barely left yours. “I have to have you now.”

“Then get on with it,” you mewled, taking his hands in yours and dragging them up your thighs, under the gown. “I’ve been waiting far too long for this, Eris.” 

You leveled his gaze - it struck quite the nerve with him, he never thought he’d succumb to an ethereal being like you, especially not to one he got to call his mate. 

As his hands roamed under your gown, your own explored his chest, running over the lean muscle and pulling at the buttons. You’d pulled them apart one by one, eyes shut and mouth being devoured by Eris. He seemed to pay no mind, working his way to your hips, squeezing at your thighs. You opened the shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, breaking away from him momentarily. 

And Eris felt it, felt it through the fresh bond between you. He felt your heart stutter, felt the shock that flooded your system. 

His heart stopped, lungs held his air hostage. 

And then you’d felt it - the utter disgust and shame that rang through him.

So you raised your hands, holding his jaw in your palms, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone - over the other faint scar that laced his skin. You weren’t sure what to say - if you should say anything at all. But he’d already noticed your surprise. That’s all it was - surprise, not in the hardened male before you, but at that any one male could endure that much pure trauma. You were not disgusted with your mate, not horrified at the scaring.

You we’re just… “What happened to you, my love?”

And he blinked a few times, turning his head in your hands and raising his own hands, holding your wrists in his palms. His throat worked, his mind rolling over the proper response. You moved your hands, dropping them down his cheeks, fingertips grazing the marred skin on his neck, the slashes over his collarbones and down the puckered skin of his chest. His hands remained on yours the whole time, feeling you work your way down his body. 

My love. It made the fire inside of him burn brighter. He imagined you’d felt it too, felt the initial draw toward him like he did to you - even before you were mates. 

“That’s a story for another time.” He whispered, gazing down at you from under his eyelashes. “If you’ll still have me.”

You were almost shocked to hear that - to hear him question your desire to be with him just based on his scars. You wouldn’t expect such doubt from him. So all you could do was sit up a little taller, pull you down to your lips and offer him the most reassuring kiss of his life. 

He made quick work of your dress, unbuttoning the small row of buttons behind your back. You shimmied the dress from under you, where you’d been sitting on the soft fabric, and let Eris bunch it up and drag it up over your sides and arms. He slid it off quickly, discarding it in a pile along with his shirt. His eyes and hands roamed over you, exploring the curves and ridges of your body. 

Your cheeks reddened, so exposed before the male you’d barely known, but longed for him to touch you. You’d thought of this moment many times, during those sleepless nights, some of which ended up leaving you with your hand between your legs. 

Eris felt your blush through the bond, he felt your outright attraction, the desperation you had. And he knew he mirrored it through the bond, too. It’s what made you pull him back into you, until he stepped right up against the counter and the front of those trousers were pressed against your undergarment. He ground against you, unable to hold in the urge as the ferocity flooded his veins, the bond finally taking hold of him now that he had you laid out in front of him. 

You moaned at the feeling, his hardened cock a tent in his pants, slotting perfectly between your lips. He moved up and down, gliding against the warm heat from your pussy, the smooth fabrics only aiding in his desperation - your too. Gods, you could have come from that alone should he only have kept going. 

But the male wasn’t having it. He kicked off his boots and unbuttoned his pants, shucking both along your kitchen floor, discarded for what he hoped would be the next few days. 

Eris’s cock bounced up against his stomach as he neared you, the precum gathered on the tip mixing into the fine pale hairs that trickled down his bellybutton to the base of his cock. Eris wouldn’t even touch himself, deciding it would be fucking ethereal, should you reach out and grab him. 

And, luckily, you did, holding your hand out for him to step back into position. Your hand wrapped around his dick, fully hard and standing proud. You’d surely need two hands to work him properly, perhaps even your mouth, too. His skin was warm in your palm, hot and ready to combust as you ran your hand up and down, offering him a small squeeze as you neared the base, your thumb rubbing the tip when it slid up.

You couldn’t hold out much longer, either. You’d pressed him up right against your pussy as he just did, leaning back on your other elbow so you could further spread your hips. You held his cock with your other hand still, pressing it into your pussy. Eris began to rock, back and forth, back and forth, wincing at how wet your pussy sounded. His cock glided along your cunt effortlessly.

He braced a hand on the counter, on either side of you, and held his hips back. He let you continue to rub his dick as he leaned in close for a chaste kiss. He rubbed his nose against your ear, hot air stirring around you. “Are you going to let me fuck you, my love?” 

You moaned - you’d heard many tales of the trickster male’s wicked tongue, but hadn’t been granted the opportunity to hear him use it around you. You were very much looking forward to exploring that side of him. 

Gone was the chamomile drinking, flower giving High Lord’s son. This was Eris, hot and heady and ready.

His one hand moved over to hold yours, moving your fingers to grab his cock and angle it into you. You gasped as the head nudged your folds, pushing only the tiniest bit in. You clenched around nothing, as he rocked back and forth, the head moving against your entrance but not in. “Will you let me mate you? Fill you up? Claim you?”

“Gods, yes,” you moaned, trying to move off the counter even closer to him, to inch his dick farther into you. “Please, Eris. My mate - ” 

You were cut off with a harsh gasp, Eris sunk halfway in as you rambled on. “Oh my gods - please.” 

He moved slowly, warming you up to his length. “Still so much more for you,” he murmured, holding your hand against your lower stomach. He pressed it softly into you, around your soft flesh, so you could feel him enter in you as he pushed his cock all the way, bottoming out.

He held there for a moment, reveling in how you squeezed your walls around him. It was unlike anything he felt before. The roaring in his chest from the bond fed straight into his cock - willing him to drive into you over and over and over. 

But as much as he wanted to hold himself back, he found himself moving faster and faster, hitting farther inside of you with each stroke. Your moans spurred him on - your gasps, your prayers to the Mother - to him. 

Your hands fell around you, gripping anything you could find, looking to anchor yourself on something, anything. 

“You feel so good, (Y/N).” He huffed, breathing becoming ragged as he fucked into you. “I can’t believe I’ve waited this long for you.”

His cock stretched you, the familiar coil in the bottom of your stomach already causing you to clench around him. “You have me, Eris, fuck.” He grabbed your hips, holding you still, driving into you harder. “Please, more, Eris.” 

So he rutted into you, Eris hooked his knee onto the counter, pushing himself up, joining you on the floury surface. Your arms splayed out, knocking over bowls and eggs, ingredients falling to the floor and clinging to your sweaty skin. He hooked his knees around either side of your hips, positioning himself directly above you, driving straight down into your wet pussy. 

He groaned - an estranged deep noise coming from the male’s throat. His one hand was positioned beside your head, holding himself above you - though, you wouldn’t care if that male suffocated you, if he laid all the weight he’d been holding all his life onto you - the other came to cradle your cheek, holding your jaw with his thumb brushed against your chin. Your breathing mixed with Eris’s, your shared air, heat, love. You sighed, feeling his cock drive deep into you, hit the deep spot inside of you - he stretched you, seeped into you, molded into you. 

He fucked you so hard that you felt yourself moving, inching closer to the edge of the counter. Your hair fell first, starting to fall over your shoulders and off the counter. But Eris held your head, cradled you as you neared the edge, feeling your stomach coil at the rhythmic pounding in your pussy. 

Eris didn’t stop until you came, until your fingernails dug into his biceps and you screamed his name. He followed behind you quickly, his hips snapping into yours until he painted you white, with his cum that marked the bond. He claimed you as his, and silently thanked the Mother for her blessing. 

His bright eyes washed over you, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, lips swollen and bruised from his kisses, crying out for him. He watched how our brows knitted together, your skin was flushed with a pink blush. He committed everything to memory, the heave of your chest, the sweat across your collarbone, your throat working to gasp air. 

He pulled out of you, dastardly watching the mix of both of your cum slide out of your pussy. He longed to feel it, to drag his finger up your sweet cunt, to lick it up. He knelt above you, pushing himself off the counter and grabbing your hips, pulling you centered on the tabletop. You huffed a sigh, arms limp and covered in flour at your sides. 

His warm fingers caressed your hips, your thighs, the muscles burning from being spread so wide. You dragged a hand over his arm, up his shoulder until you met the back of his neck. Your fingers brushed through the back of his red curls. “We made quite the mess.” You were tired, sounded so breathless - it nearly made Eris’s knees wobble. 

He laughed, though, a hearty chuckle, quite proud of his creation. He surveyed the messy kitchen, in no shape to bake, to serve anything made from or around the mess that had become evidence of your mating bond. But after pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, the male was off, walked those long legs to the counter and scribbled down a note on a piece of scrap paper beside your recipe book. 

Even his handwriting was beautiful. “Closed until further notice.” 

He rushed back to you, scooping you in his arms, holding you tightly against him, even as you broke out into a fit of giggles.

“Now you can show me this upstairs I’ve heard so much about.” And you knew right then that you’d be riding the high of your mating frenzy until Eris had learned every inch of you.

[floof-poof]

One Of A Kind -Chapter Three

Pairing: Kyle Rayner x Batsis!Reader Summary: Meeting a new friend and secrets being spilled is certainly one interesting way to spend a day. Warnings: Pregnancy, morning sickness, swearing, Christmas mention, fluff, slight angst Word Count: 4.7k A/N: The beginning is a mess but I hope y'all enjoy it! I'm going to pump out some more stuff before I go on vacation in August! OOAK Masterlist

“So, what originally brought you to our humble abode?” You placed the grocery bag on the counter in front of you. The three of you were still standing in the kitchen, a little closer now the initial shock washed over.

“You can thank this one over here. Left his comms on when once he came back, fortunately for him no one was listening, well besides from me. I caught everything up until you went deep into your history before the connection finally ended.” Guy sent a look to Kyle, shaking his head slowly. “Now, I figured I should probably meet this mystery person I’ve heard so very little about for myself. I was lucky you two live together, otherwise that would’ve made my trip a little harder.”

You let out a long sigh, mentally reminding yourself to have a talk with your apparent careless husband. “Okay, I can get behind that.”

Kyle sent a nervous look towards you, shuffling closer hesitantly. “Darling, honey pie, light of my life, you’re taking this all very calmly. Does that, perhaps, mean you’re not angry?”

“Oh, I’m furious with you,” You tried to keep your voice steady as you moved away from his reach. His face dropped slightly at the motion. “But I’ve also kept things from you that I should have told you sooner, so I guess this puts us on some slight even footing. And just so you know, this does not mean you’re in the clear. This is my life you had been reckless with, the life I tried so hard to keep safe. If this was anyone else, we both would be in more danger than you know.”

Tears were pricking your eyes and the nausea was setting in, your stomach fluttered as the rush of emotions became overwhelming. “Now if you excuse me, I’m going to go throw up and when I come back I expect the both of you to be ready to leave for lunch. This is non negotiable.”

You turned on your heel and dashed to the guest bathroom, slamming the door shut as you barely made it to the toilet before the contents of your stomach spilled out. You whimpered as the heaving became too much all too quickly. Resting your forehead against the cool seat felt heavenly for your heated skin, waiting for the next wave to come. Fortunately it never came. The room no longer felt like it was spinning so that was a win.

After a few beats nothing else came up, the queasiness had eased up some.

The knock on the door startled you. You called out weakly for them to come in, you were taking your chances on it being Kyle since Guy had looked like he wanted the Earth to swallow him up whole when you left.

The door opened and you were met with the familiar green eyes you’ve come to long for and love. His face was stoic but quickly softened at your crumpled figure.

“How are you feeling?” Kyle spoke softly, kneeling down, gently rubbing your back.

“Like shit,” you said flatly, leaning into him with a grumble. “I think this week takes the cake of being terrible. It feels infinitely worse than the weeks before. I don’t understand how someone can be this sick during every waking moment of the day?”

“Do you want to stay home for lunch then? I could send Guy out.” He suggested.

You hummed, doing a mental check of your physical state. “No, I think it would be better to go out. I’m going to feel sick regardless so might as well make the most of it.”

“Okay,” He blinked, eyes filled with emotion. You could tell he wanted to say something so you sat patiently for him until he was ready. With a sigh he continued, “I’m sorry I wasn’t careful. I was just so focused on getting to you before anything terrible happened, the last time you had gotten sick I almost lost my mind when you had to be hospitalized. Honestly, I couldn’t handle another repeat.”

You turned in his arms, pulling him close in a hug, his arms wrapped tightly around you as if afraid you would crumble if he let go. “My love, listen to me. It's okay. I turned out okay in the end. More than okay, really. And before you say anything, you already know I would do everything in my power to not let that happen again, especially to you. I made a promise that day at our wedding I would never leave you, that no matter what we’ll always have each other.”

“But I could have put your life at risk. I should have known better. If something were to happen to you- gods, and the baby! If something happened to the both of you I could not forgive myself. I’m sorry I did that to you both.” Kyle croaked out. Your heart nearly broke at the sound.

You knew where this was stemming from, had been there to pick up the pieces that were threatening to shatter completely, caring for a nearly broken man trying so desperately to stay afloat. How one man could deal with all that trauma and still manage to smile and care for you every single day, you didn’t know. You were glad you were there in time before it became too much for him. Had been alongside him to mourn the loved ones he had lost.

“Look at me,” You pulled back to cradle his face in your hands, thumbs brushing over his cheeks, his hands found your hips. “I’m not gonna lie, I was more than scared when I found out the comms had been left on. But it appears that luck was on our side since it was your best friend who was on the other side, a person who I trust by the way.” You said with certainty. “That being said, I know with my whole being and soul that you would never mean harm to either of us. I trust you completely. So don’t get lost in that wonderful, beautiful head of yours.”

“Thank you.” Kyle smiled. You could see thoughts were still swirling in his head, you know this conversation would be continued once you had no more guests.

During that time you pulled him in to give a peck on his nose, which he wrinkled in a grimace. “And as much as I love you, I’m asking you politely to rinse your mouth. Your breath is gnarly.”

You let go with a laugh, smacking his arm. “You ass!”

“Get washed up, lovey.” He placed a kiss on the crown of your head and got up, helping you in the process as well. “We’ll continue this later, let’s get back to our guest who’s awkwardly waiting for us.”

“Oh yeah, I don’t think I made such a good impression. Go ask what he’s feeling on eating, I won’t be more than a few minutes.”

He left with a small pat on your butt. Remembering what a coworker once said about not brushing your teeth after throwing up because it grinds the acid into your teeth, you rinsed thoroughly with water followed by mouthwash. Doing another rinse of both you figured you could do a quick brush now.

It probably wasn’t the best idea but at least the mint flavor replaced the offensive one that had been left in your mouth. It also helped ease the sick feeling that clung desperately to you.

The boys had picked a place nearby the apartment to walk to, they had been chatting your ear the entire way there. Of course, you wished you had offered to drive since the weather had gotten worse, the snow now in huge piles on the sidewalk making you put in more effort than needed to trudge through it.

Thinking about it now, there are only three more weeks until Christmas comes. You had forgotten all about it, too caught up with work to begin shopping. You’ll have to find a day when Kyle was out to go get gifts.

Not wanting to chance it again when you had been called in three days before the holiday last year, the two of you hadn't made any plans ahead of time, not sure if there'd be any last minute assignments given.

The diner had been tucked away towards the end of the block, it was small and gave off a warm, cozy vibe. You picked a booth in a corner, away from the windows with you near the wall and Kyle at the end, Guy sat across from the two of you.

You were trying to decide on getting either soup or sandwich for the better half of ten minutes, your efforts on choosing one was futile because you ended up ordering both

It was Guy who pulled you out of your thoughts. “I’m curious to know how he managed to score a date with you.”

With a mischievous glint in your eyes, Kyle knew what you were going to say first.

“He managed to spill his coffee all down my shirt.” You said with a shake of your head, forcing off a smile to feign the look of disappointment.

“There’s no way he did that, holy shit! And you still gave him the time of day?”

“Well, I was the one who actually asked him out. He was too shocked by what had happened, it was really cute. I like to think he fell for my charm, pun intended.” You laughed.

Kyle let out a groan, hiding his face in his hands clearly embarrassed. Guy groaned at your awful pun, if you could even call it that. But you were very pleased with their reactions.

The full brunt of nausea had returned when the food arrived but you managed to push it down and force food into you so you at least had something in your system. Kyle glanced your way, noticing the change in your demeanor and took your hand in his, rubbing comforting circles onto the back of yours.

“We went out for a date the week after the first, which turned into having dates once a week, which turned into two dates a week after a month, and then three dates a week. Eventually he wouldn’t dare part with me.” You said between bites.

“We've been together for five years now, going on six real soon.” Kyle continued. You hummed, leaning into his shoulder.

 “The first three years we dated, it was interesting to see how it lasted since I was going on and off world for most of the beginning. Coming clean to her helped tremendously,” Kyle noted happily. “And these last two years have been amazing since we married.” The pure joy was evident in his voice.

“What’d you think when he kept leaving in the beginning?” Guy asked you, clearly interested in your thoughts.

“It wasn't as noticeable to me because I travel a lot for work. We were lucky I had that week off, otherwise I don't think none of this would have happened. But his cute charms and loving personality made it worth it.”

“Gross.” Guy faked gagging. “What do you do for work that keeps you traveling?” 

You had been expecting that question to come up. But you wished it had come up later. Looking at Kyle who shrugged, suggesting it was your decision to tell him the truth. You decided on something in the middle.

“I work for a security company, traveling wherever I'm needed to provide my services.” It wasn't the whole truth but it also wasn't completely a lie.

Guy seemed pretty surprised at your job, not expecting that from the cozy nature of your look. “That's pretty neat. Do you stay in the country or do you also travel internationally?”

“Most of the time it's international but the most recent trip was actually here on the east coast. I was happy with the lack of jet lag that accompanies my trips.”

The three of you let the conversation die down to eat your food. The faint music playing from the speakers added to the comfortable atmosphere. It felt like you were catching up with lifelong friends rather than meeting up with your husband's brother for the first time.

“Not to bring up the elephant in the room but does Bats know about you two being together?” Guy asked wearily, looking back and forth at the two of you.

You tensed at the question, shifting uncomfortably in your seat, suddenly more interested in shoving your food around, no longer with an appetite.

“Actually, no.” Kyle coughed. “As far as I’m aware, they don’t know about us.”

“They don’t.” You confirmed coldly.

The air became thick at your tone, sensing this was a topic you did not want to talk about, Guy quickly changed the subject.

“Uhm… Have you guys got anything for the tiny lantern?”

Like a switch had gone off in your brain, your body relaxed against the seat, a soft smile on your face upon hearing the name.

“Tiny Lantern?” You asked.

“Y-yeah. The kid is gonna be a lantern if I have any say. Ring or not, we’re family.”

“Oh, fuck I think I’m going to cry thats so sweet!” The overwhelming emotions began pouring out, tears streaming down your face.

“Wait, no! Don’t cry!” He panicked and looked at Kyle for help, who was equally as flustered and confused as he was.

A small sob came out, you gulped down your water trying to stop the tears from continuing. You really didn’t know why it affected you like this, you were normally amazing at keeping your emotions in check. That’s a lie, you knew exactly why.

“It’s not that, it’s the hormones.” Wiping your tear stained face you sucked in a deep breath hoping to calm down. “Don’t worry about it, I'm fine. They’re happy tears, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Kyle gave your hand a squeeze, comforting you and turned towards his friend with a smile. That seemed to relieve him. “To answer the question, no, we haven't gotten around to any shopping yet. Well, apart from the prenatals and vitamins she needs to take now. I think that had been our next stop once we dropped off the supplies at the apartment.”

Your breathing had evened out, no longer crying. It was a little embarrassing but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, your energy now low. That seemed to be another lovely symptom you’ve acquired in the past month, remembering how you felt after your last mission.

“Maybe after a nap?” You suggested with a yawn. “Or perhaps you two could go while I nap?” You were exhausted, possibly due to the whiplash of emotions during the entire time here.

“Of course, let me pay and get some containers for us. I’ll be right back.” Kyle scooted out of the seat and walked to the counter.

The both of you kept quiet, not really sure on what to say.

You broke the silence, “I want to say that I’m normally not like this. I’m usually much calmer, not really a crier.” Not sure why you felt the need to explain yourself but continued. “Sorry I scared you earlier, it’s been a pretty harsh week for me.”

His face faltered for a moment, “Somehow, I don’t doubt that. I apologize for bringing up an unwanted past. I don’t know how long it’s been since you last saw your family but they’re different now, if it makes any difference.”

You sent him a knowing look. Of course you know how your family is doing, you’ve kept daily tabs on them since you left the manor that day.

It was one of the conditions of your new life and job that your boss let you have complete access to anything regarding them. Both in and out of the mask, although you're the only one with access to that knowledge.

“The things Kyle told me about you when you were in the bathroom makes you out to be a strong and loving woman. I don’t doubt that one bit. You’re good for him, he’s much happier than before and I know it’s thanks to you.” Guy sat back in his seat, sent a warm look to Kyle and turned back to you.

Your heart warmed and you felt lighter. Like a tension had been released from your shoulders. Looking into his eyes you only saw comfort and admiration shining through.

“Thank you, I know you mean so much to him too. I’ve heard and seen the way you treat each other like family, it’s of great importance to me having you out there with him keeping each other safe. Just know you’re always welcome to stop by, whether that be for him or to crash. The door is always open for you.”

There was a faint blush that crept up his neck. “Thank you, that means a lot coming from you.”

“Any time, although I do have one request… actually two requests for you.” He motioned for you to go on. “First, if you could keep us, me and the baby, a secret from the others, just until we’re ready.”

“That’s understandable, don't even have to ask.” He smiled.

“You might want some background information for the second favor. I have this friend of mine, a kid that I look after whenever he’s in town, actually his entire family are friends of mine.” You rambled on, taking a moment to breathe. “Anyways, he crashes with us from time to time, but is a little weary of strangers. So, whenever you’re here around the same time as him, if you could possibly ease up and maybe… give him space. Just so he doesn’t freak out.”

“That’s certainly something.” He chuckled. “But I’ll be on my best behavior, since you asked so nicely.”

Wishing you could believe it you knew better than to hope for a miracle. You knew with the two of them together they'd end up destroying the whole apartment complex. Billy had confided in you that you Rayners and his family are the only people who know about his identity, but that doesn't mean he'd stop being his chaotic smack-talking self around Guy. The less they interact with each other the safer your home will be.

Kyle came back with a few containers and you all quickly filled them before heading out, you hailing a taxi to avoid the cold before the two could oppose.

*****

You woke up much later in the day, the sky was dark but that was expected in the winter. The smell of food welcomed you, no longer feeling sick for the time being although you knew it would be a matter of time before it returned.

Making your way out of the bedroom there were bags littered along the hallway, leading to the living room where you found Kyle and Guy sitting on the floor reading instructions with parts on the floor in front of them

“Aren’t you two a sight for sore eyes.” Their heads shot up in your direction, surprised at your arrival.

“Hey sleeps, you’re up! There’s a dinner plate on the counter for you,” Kyle nodded towards the kitchen counter where there was a steaming plate of food.

You crossed the room grabbing the plate and walked back sitting on the couch closest to Kyle, judging by all the pans on the stove top he made dinner for all of you. He gave your calf a quick squeeze for his own comfort, fingers lingering.

“What are you two building?” You asked in between bites.

It could have literally been anything. The random parts on the floor didn’t give you any clues at all, whatever container they had been in was gone as well. Kyle and Guy shared a look, having a silent conversation while you ate, looking between the two of them perfectly content on waiting them out.

Guy spoke first, “It was supposed to be a surprise for when you woke up, a gift for the tiny lantern.”

“It’s a crib for our little bean,” Kyle continued eagerly with a grin. “It’s the same one you were looking at online, you’d mentioned wanting it and I thought we might as well get it now.”

Looking over at the parts in front of you it slowly clicked together. It should have been obvious from the start but your sleepy baby brain hadn’t booted up when you had looked at the familiar soft gray pieces all laid out for them.

“You do know we still have like another seven months until our bean joins us, right?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, but I was a little eager and Guy suggested it was a good idea to get started with the big stuff early on rather than wait until you’re farther along.”

Guy held up his hands, “Woah! I didn’t do anything, you’re just easily suggestible.”

“No, you’re the one who put the idea in my head.” Kyle bickered back.

You chuckled into your food. Kyle smiled up at you before turning his attention back to Guy who was smirking at him. It was obvious to Guy that you and Kyle were completely in love with each other, he was glad his best friend was happy.

“Well, thank you both for the amazing gift. The only thing we need to do besides building this is to figure out where we’re going to put it.” You said.

“Are you not turning the guest room into the nursery?” Guy asked you both.

You shrugged, “We only found out three days ago we’re expecting so we hadn’t really thought that far ahead. I mean it would be smart to do that but what about when we have guests staying over?”

“Maybe we could let our little bean stay in our room with us so they’re within reach, and we keep the guest room as is, at least for now.” Kyle suggested.

“I think you might need to invest in a larger home, this apartment is gonna get cramped real soon. You have some time to decide but don’t put it off at the last minute.” Guy piped in.

“It honestly wouldn’t be a terrible idea to get a bigger place,” you agreed. “We do have a stable and good enough income to go looking. Alright then. I’ll leave you two to build, I have maternity shopping to do.” You got up and loaded your plate into the dishwasher.  “Babe, do you know where my laptop is? I think I misplaced it again, I couldn’t find it when we got back from lunch.”

He mumbled instructions to Guy then turned to answer you. “Yeah, the rascal asked if he could use it for the weekend to do a school report so I dropped it off. You can use mine, it should still be charging on my bedside table.”

Of course your unofficial son was borrowing your laptop, this shouldn’t be news to you. You did your best not to trip on all the bags that were still placed around the hallway floor, making a mental note to inspect their contents later. 

For the time being you made yourself comfy on the bed with the laptop in your lap, you had some shopping to do since it was getting more difficult to squeeze into some of your clothes. Everything was slightly snugger than they normally were but in due time nothing would fit.

Time must have flown by quickly because a very exhausted looking Kyle walked in, shutting the door quietly behind him. You weren’t sure if it was the pregnancy spurring on your feelings but he looked downright beautiful. His hair was a tousled mess, half-lidded eyes struggled to stay open, and his pout was too cute. “Were you able to find anything good and comfortable? Should I be worried about fighting off wandering eyes when you look gorgeous in whatever outfits you got yourself?”

“Only found a few things but since I have no clue what I’m doing I bought them in different sizes and I’ll return whatever doesn’t work. As for fighting off others, I’ll handle that myself but you can do as you please,” you closed the laptop as Kyle got on his side of the bed, setting it aside and gave him your undivided attention. “So… are we good to talk about it? Our situation.”

“If you’re asking if the walls have ears, no– we’re good. Guy barely made it to the spare room before he passed out. Damn crib took all our energy. It was impossible to put together.”

You let out a laugh scooting closer to Kyle, he pulled you both down so you were laying down with your back to his front where he could easily wrap his arms around you. He let his fingers rub away any lingering discomfort that came with the stressful day.

“I want to start off by apologizing for not telling you about my past sooner. I mean, we’ve been married for years now and the only thing I told you was that I had left my old life behind and took up hiding behind this new person I created. It wasn’t right nor was it fair of me to do that while you gave me everything and more.” You sighed, placing your own hands on top of his.

“Believe me when I say I knew what I was getting into when I decided to marry you. Your job alone requires you to erase your existence both in the virtual and physical world, it’s a miracle we ran into each other when we did otherwise I wouldn’t have the love of my life in my arms right now,” Kyle gave you a gentle squeeze. “You can say I don’t know anything about your past but don’t you dare say I don’t know anything about you. I know your favorite color and how you try to keep something on you that closely matches it.

“I know your eyes light up whenever you get to a good part in a book. I know how after a bad day of work you love it when I get a bath ready and have dinner prepared so all you have to do is wind down and relax. And I know that when I get too overwhelmed and start panicking you’re always there to bring me back to reality and calm me down– how you’ll drop everything to come to me to do it. These are all the little things that piece you together, the only things that matter. I don’t care that you hid that part of you but I would love nothing more than to learn about it when you’re ready and when you’re willing.”

It was incredibly hard to keep the tears back but your sniffling gave you away. There was no one more understanding and kind than your husband and it broke your heart you never had the guts to completely spill all your secrets to him. He had all your trust, love, and support and you hoped he felt the same.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” You turned your head and kissed him.

“I don’t believe you have, maybe I could do with some reminders.” Kyle gave you another peck when you pulled away.

You both stayed silent for a moment, soaking in each other’s presence and warmth. You might have thought Kyle fell asleep if it wasn’t for the long yawn coming from him.

“Babe?” you whispered and waited for a response before continuing. “Guy is right. We’re going to need to find a bigger place, it might be time to start looking into some houses. Get a nice place to stretch our legs, lord knows we’re going to need the extra room once our little bean is here and the Marvel gang makes it their life mission to help out.”

“Okay, we can start looking tomorrow– after we get some rest.”

You eased out of his arms to turn off the lamp and he immediately pulled you back to him when you were done. “Alright, tomorrow then. Good night, I love you.”

“I love you too, sleep well.”

Now, with the heavy weight off your chest you were able to fall asleep without a problem for the first time in a long time.

[floof-poof]

Flightless (Reimagined) - Azriel Shadowsinger

A/N - Okay so this is a rewritten version of this fic - I really hope you enjoy.

T/W: Very brief mention of S/A it isn't talked about in detail, the R word isn't used but please keep yourselves safe and don't read if at all triggering for you. Talks of violence.

W/C: 7.7K

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you took a deep breath, steeled yourself against the biting cold, and approached one of the most terrifying males you knew. You wanted to do this, wanted to learn. "Excuse me, Lord Devlon?" He took his sweet time before he looked at you, before he acknowledged you. "What is it, girl?" He asked, no malice in his voice, but it wasn't kind either. "I was wondering if it would be acceptable for me to join training with the other girls in the mornings?" The two warriors next to him snorted, the third sneered, "What use would you be, girl? Your wings weren't even clipped, I don’t think there's a word for what happened to your wings, your missing half of one and the other is bent all wrong." A shudder ran through you at the memory, the agony, the heartbreak of never being able to feel the wind again, of never being able to answer its call again. 

Devlon paled slightly as he looked past you and snapped at the three warriors with him to get back to work, the third still sneering at you as he went. "I survived sir." You told Devlon quietly, "I survived what happened to me, I'm strong enough to train like an Illyrian." He ran a hand down his face, and you felt someone approach behind you, you did not turn but your spin straightened, and your broken wings flared as best as they could. "You'll get yourself killed, you'll be thrown into the Rite, just like the others. Besides, we start training as children, your age is against you." You looked up at him and met his eyes, "I can do this sir, please, let me try." He opened his mouth to reply but another voice came from behind you. "Why do you want to train so badly?" You turned slowly only to be met by the Lord of Bloodshed himself. The General of the Night Court stood tall, proud, and strong. The wind was whipping the lose pieces of his hair around his face. Seven ruby red siphons glinted in the sun. You had never seen him up close, but from here you almost crumbled under how powerful he clearly was.  

"I was held down as they mutilated my wings, my Lord. I was helpless, I couldn’t defend myself, I didn’t know how to." You could have sworn the air thickened, and the sky darkened as the Shadowsinger and the High Lord himself approached. "Who took your wings?” Cassian growled, glaring at Devlon as he did. “Well, it didn’t happen here!” Devlon snapped at the General who bared his teeth in response. These two clearly were not friends. “It happened at the Ironcrest Camp.” You told him quickly, your nerves fraying due to looks being exchanged between the two males you currently stood between, the last thing you wanted was to be caught between two fighting Illyrians. “This camp has been good to me.” You continued. “Devlon.” The High Lord greeted, “Rhysand.” Devlon gritted back. “Why won’t you train the girl?” Rhysand asked and Devlon gestured towards you, “Look at her, she’s in no shape to train, to fight. She wouldn’t last an hour in the Rite.” Rhysand studied you, “What happened to your wings?” He asked, his star flecked eyes meeting your own. “This isn’t a traditional clipping.” He said and you shuddered against the memory. “Let me see.” He said as you felt his power caressing your mind and then there, he was, in the middle of that night with you.  

Ironcrest was cold. Colder than Windhaven. There was a reason it was known as the cruellest camp, and it wasn’t just the biting weather that gave it that reputation. You were making your way back to your decrepit tent after clearing up after dinner. The males, as usual had eaten more than their share, your own you had split between the few daughters of the camp. Those who were discarded as soon as they were born. Urchins the males referred to them as. Stomach cramping with hunger you prayed to the Mother you wouldn’t run into Malakai, the Lord's son, the Male with the cruellest reputation, one that was well earned. You felt a flinch on the edge of the memory, and you knew it was the High Lord sensing your fear as you continued to walk through the dark. You had seen Malakai at dinner, drinking heavily and you knew that would do nothing to improve the perpetual sense of rage he seemed to live in. He, for some reason, had taken a shine to you and not in a good or kind way. You could see your tent in the distance, so so close, when all of a sudden, a hand wrapped around your mouth, trapping any sound, another arm around your waist, trapping your already weak wings from the lack of flying, females were not to be seen in the sky here, most of which had already been clipped. Everything went black before you could react. When you woke, three males surrounded you, Malakai and his two, equally sadistic friends. They were a band of brothers, much like the High Lord, the General and the Shadowsinger. You weren’t sure why you thought about them in that moment, maybe because they’d be the only ones to save you, but they wouldn’t come and why would they? You felt Rhysand flinch again at the thought.  

“Welcome back, sweetheart,” Malakai crooned at you, you didn’t look at him, you kept your gaze downcast. A good, submissive female. “You’ve been struting around here unchecked for too long.” He said, “I made it quite clear that you were to be mine and seeing as you won’t submit on your own, I’ll take what is rightfully mine.” Fear shot through your entire being and your body went numb as his friends held you face down in the dirt. You couldn’t fight, couldn’t move due to their weight. Laying there helpless you cried as Malakai hacked at your wings. Not at the base as you had expected, as you had witnessed in previous clippings while on your knees, holding the unfortunate females hands, promising her everything would be okay. There was no one to do that for you as you felt your left wing tear, as you felt the right one break. No one to tell you it was going to be okay as he forced himself on you as his friends laughed while you were bleeding out in the snow. You weren’t sure how long you cried in the snow, naked, cold, broken, it could’ve been hours before the daughters you looked after came looking, before they dragged you as best they could back to your tent and sat with you. You weren’t sure if the Mother herself was watching over you because even though part of you died that night, you were still alive come daybreak.  

“Enough! Rhys, enough!” A voice like night personified spoke, close to your ear. You felt the cold seeping into your tattered dress as Rhysand retreated from your mind. There was a warmth at your back you noticed as you looked at the High Lord’s face and saw nothing but rage there. “Are you okay?” The same voice asked you, “It can be unsettling the first time he does that.” It continued, you craned your neck and saw the Shadowsinger, looking down at you and you came to the mortifying realisation that you were in his embrace, on the floor. You scrambled away from him, “I’m sorry my Lord, I’m so sorry!” You rushed out. The General let out a laugh and pulled you from the ground gently, setting you back on your feet and making sure you were steady before he stepped away. “She trains.” Rhysand spoke, authority coating his words, daring Devlon to argue with him. “If she wishes to train, to learn how to defend herself, she trains.” He said. Devlon was silent for a long moment. “With me.” It was not Devlon who had spoken but the Shadowsinger. “She trains with me, personally.” He wasn’t telling Devlon, nor was he asking permission, he was telling the High Lord that training you was going to be his task, and his alone. The two of them seemed to have some kind of silent argument if the tick in the Spymasters jaw was anything to go by before Rhysand finally said, “So be it Az, she trains with you.” You couldn’t fight the small smile that graced your lips, even if your cheeks were burning with embarrassment from having been in his lap only moments ago. “Thank you, Shadowsinger.” You said quietly. He didn’t smile, he just nodded. “Azriel, my name is Azriel.”  

As instructed you were outside one of the only shops in Windhaven at daybreak. The door clicked open, and a female slipped out. “Oh, you must be Y/N.” She smiled gently. You returned her smile, “Yes, are you Emerie?” She nodded in confirmation that she was indeed Emerie. She looked you up and down and you didn’t miss her eyes snagging on the half of a wing hanging from your left side. “So, you’re Azriel’s new project.” She mused. “His new project?” You asked, “He’s just training me?” You said. “He’s a wonderful male, kind, gentle, but he’s dangerous and he’s easy to fall for.” She warned, “Have you?” You asked, “Fallen for him?” You clarified and she laughed, “Me? No, I prefer the company of females.” She told you with a smirk. Oh, oh. “I have no plans to fall for him, I just want to learn.” You told her and she smiled gently again, “Just be careful.” was all she said as the most beautiful female you had ever seen appeared and gave Emerie a dazzling smile. She bounced up to you, “Hi, I’m Mor!” He voice was like windchimes. “Hello, I’m Y/N.” You smiled, “Ready to learn how to kick these males asses?” She grinned and offered you a hand as you nodded.  

Winnowing was a strange sensation, it felt like falling and staying still all at once and then you really were falling. The air left your lungs as you collided with something and then you were flying. “Welcome to Velaris.” You opened your eyes to see the High Lord and you were flying. A grin split across your face; it had almost been a year since you had last flown and the wind felt incredible against your skin. Rhysand smiled down at you as he did a couple of loops of the house below while you grinned before he eventually landed. You finally took in the view of the city he had called Velaris. “It’s beautiful here,” you breathed. “You should see it at Starfall.” A female spoke from behind you. Turning to face the voice you saw the High Lord with his arms around a beautiful female and you knew exactly who she was. You dropped into a courtesy, “High Lady,” you greeted. She smiled warmly, “Just Feyre is fine.” She told you, taking your hand and helping you straighten and regain your balance, the wind causing your wings to knock you off kilter. “Is that what you are training in?” She asked, referring to your tattered dress and your cheeks burned with embarrassment. “It’s all I have.” You admitted and she frowned at her husband. “It’s fine, really!” You insisted and she didn’t argue with you.  

“Are you ready?” Azriel’s voice sent chills down your spine. You took a deep breath and turned to face him. “I am.” You told him. “We’re training a level up.” He told you, “This place goes higher?” You gasped, “It does, all that’s up there is a training ring, slightly smaller than this one, Cassian will be training Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn down here.” You nodded at him, “Once you're caught up you are welcome to join them, Nesta has already extended the invitation.” You smiled, that was incredibly kind of her, you had never been included before. In anything. “Let’s go.” He said, walking towards the door leading into the house. The interior took your breath away. You had never seen the outside of the camps before and you couldn’t comprehend how grand this house was. “Do you live here?” You gasped, freezing in place and taking in the parlour room. Azriel turned upon hearing your footsteps hault. Due to your half a wing your steps had a telltale uneven sound to them. He allowed a rare turn up of his lips at the sight of wonder on your face. “Yes, with Cassian and Nesta.” You didn’t acknowledge his words, still taking in the rich wallpaper, the plus sofas and chairs. “I’m not here much though, I’m often away for work but whenever I’m in the city this is where I reside.” He continued, that seemed to pull you back to him, “Oh, am I keeping you from that?” You asked gently, concern coating your eyes, “I can train at the camps, honestly, its fine.” You rushed out. Azriel shook his head, “You aren’t keeping me from anything.” He inclined his head towards the door and you followed next to him, running your hand along the back of the sofa, “I’ve never felt something so soft!” You exclaimed; an amused raise of his brows was all he gave you in return. You struggled up the stairs, your wings leaving your gait uneven, stairs was something you hadn’t faced in a long time, and it seemed you could no longer go up them very well. Azriel didn’t push or hurry you like you expected, he merely kept a step behind you to catch you if you fell. You were exhausted by the time you’d reached the training ring but more than determined to prove yourself. 

Training that day was brutal. Not because you got hurt, in fact, Azriel didn’t touch you once, didn’t once enter your personal space. He had started you off with footwork. It was much harder than you thought simple footwork would be, but your uneven wings made life difficult as did the shadows that constantly danced around you, but you loved your new little friends and he couldn’t seem to call them back no matter how much he told them to leave you alone and find something useful to be doing, apparently they thought nothing was more useful than being around you. He never once lost his patience, he let you work through it. Let you pull yourself from the ground time after time with nothing but gentle encouragement. “Good,” he said at midday, “You did well today, we’ll do the same again tomorrow.” Sweat was pouring off of you by the time he was guiding you through a cool down. “How did it go?” Rhysand asked, appearing on the roof with the pair of you while you were lying on your back, fighting for your life trying to catch your breath. “It went well.” Azriel told him as you just stuck your arm in the air showing him a thumbs up. Rhysand just laughed at you. “Y/N, I have asked our healer, Madja, to take a look at your wings, just to make sure, if you’ll allow it?” He asked, your sat up, crossing your legs and looked at him, “Make sure of what? They can’t be fixed? Half of one is probably still in that field in Ironcrest.” You told him, “I know they can’t, but I’d like to know if they are causing you pain and if we can do anything about that.” He said a kind smile graced his face and you found yourself nodding. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Azriel said shortly, his attitude suddenly switched, and storms seemed to be brewing in his eyes. “Okay.” You mumbled quietly, slightly scared of the person he now seemed to be. “Azriel.” Rhysand growled, “You are to leave it alone, do you understand?” He commanded, pure High Lord. Azriel levelled him with a look, nodded once and took to the skies.  

Azriel:  

“Half of one is probably still in that field in Ironcrest.” Azriel wasn’t sure why the words had gutted him like they had or why they were playing over and over in his head. He knew something tragic had happened to her, something unforgivable, Rhys hadn’t shared with him or Cassian what he had seen in her mind yesterday, but it had taken all afternoon, several glasses of whiskey and Feyre perched on his lap before his brother had calmed. All he knew was that when she uttered those words a rage like he hadn’t felt for a long time consumed him. He was to leave it alone. That was an order from his High Lord, not his friend, not his brother, his High Lord. So alone he would leave it, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t investigate, Rhysand hadn’t said anything about investigating. So, naturally, he flew to Ironcrest. He kept quiet and out of sight of the main camp and sent his ever-helpful friends to investigate. He didn’t fail to notice the littlest one, the one that usually stuck to him like glue, rambling in his ear like an excited child, the one that hadn’t left her side all morning was the first to dart away at his command.  

It didn't take long before he heard a howl on the wind, they had found something. The remaining shadows engulfed him like a swarm. When they cleared again, he was in a small clearing. It was the little shadow howling for him and upon his arrival it came shooting towards him. "Look! Look! See, Master! See what they did!” It was frantically whispering at him. “Show me.” He answered it aloud and followed its lead. The smell of blood hit him first. Something that didn’t make sense, but he knew on instinct it was hers. Her injuries weren’t recent, not recent enough for the blood to linger, not with the weather up here anyway but it was as if her blood had permeated the earth and his wings unfurled with the anger that once again hit him like a tidal wave. He spotted it then, lying in the grass, half of a wing. Just like she said. The cuts were crude, as if the instrument used was too blunt for the cartilage of the wing. He knew, from his experiance in breaking people, that once they had sawed through the bone, they had torn through the skin with their bare hands, like one would with paper. Even as someone who inflicted pain for a living, he couldn’t imagine. His knees gave out without his permission, and he vomited. “Kill them! Make them suffer! Kill them all!” The little shadow was hissing as it darted around his head. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he forced himself to his feet. “I will little one, I will.” He told it, “I’ll help!” It insisted, “You’ll all help when the time is right, for now, some of you stay here, find out who did this to her, keep me informed.” He addressed all of his shadows, the sneakier of which took their leave at his command. The little one floating by his ear like an unofficial second in command.  

Y/N: 

As predicted, there was nothing Madja could do for your wings, other than keep you comfortable with them. Which Rhysand insisted she do despite your protest that they had already done far too much for you by allowing you to train. You left of course, with ointments, tinctures, and vials for your wings. You arrived at training the next morning, aching but determined as ever. “Go on up!” Nesta told you with a smile and you give her your best smile right back. Gritting your teeth you pulled yourself up the stairs to the second training ring. Azriel wasn’t there when you arrived so you wandered over to the edge of the ring, bending at the waist to feel the wind over the wall. Your right wing, the broken one tried hard to unfurl and feel the wind but shattering pain lanced through you and it quickly stopped its movement. You stood there, a small smile on your face, hair whipping around you. “I like it up here, I can feel the wind again, I can hear its song.” You told Azriel who looked downright shocked you knew he was there as he emerged from his shadows. You let out a small laugh and put your hair behind your ear, “This little one gave you away.” You told him, showing you the little shadow curled around your ear like it belonged there. Azriel glared at it and it dived into your hair. “Don’t be mean to my new friend!” You scolded him and half of his lip twitched up into a smile. He came and leant against the wall next to you, taking great care not to knock your wings, Rhysand must’ve told him about the exposed bone and nerve on the left one that you wouldn’t even let Madja touch. “It must be nice to live somewhere like this, up in the wind.” You told him, “Do you miss it?” He asked, and you looked at him to find him already watching you, “Of course I do, but this is as close as I’ll ever get now.” You told him with a shrug. “Shall we start?” You asked. “Not yet, let’s enjoy the wind a bit longer first.” He said. From that day on, the first 45 minuets of training, Azriel dedicated to sitting on the wall, enjoying the wind. Slowly and surely, the Shadowsinger started talking to you more and more.  

Azriel:  

Six months later Azriel had found himself looking forward to morning training. It was no longer a motion to go through. He found he enjoyed Y/N’s quiet company. Enjoyed that she had never once been scared to call him out on his shit. It was her that had finally gotten through to him about Elain. He was repeating old patterns, and he knew that now. “You’re worth more than you think, Azriel. You deserve real and true love, mate or not. But this thing you have with Elain, this isn’t it. You know it isn’t. She’s using you and you know it, deep down you know it.” She had told him three days ago. He was furious. How dare she think such a thing about Elain about him? All he had tried to do is help her! He hadn’t shown up for training the last two days, but he knew from Cassian that she had and stubbornly carried on without him. Today, he was swallowing his pride and apologising for his actions. He had reacted badly at the time and she had flinched, she had been scared of him in that moment and it made him sick. He knew she knew he would never lift a hand to her in such a way, but she had still flinched, and he would not forgive himself for it, for the scent of fear that filled the air as he walked away from her in the middle of a session.  

When he made it to the training ring, she wasn’t there. So he waited, five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen. Emerie came bursting onto the roof, Mor on her heels, Cassian, Nesta and Gwyn behind them. “She never turned up this morning!” Emerie told him in one breath. “Mor and I went to her tent but she wasn't there either!” He met Cassians gaze and saw the worry there, the tick in his brothers jaw. Cassian ran these camps as best he could but even Cassian wasn’t enough to corral the old ways and he could read it on the General’s face that he was worried about what they would find. “Find Rhysand, meet me there.” Was all he said to Cassian before launching to the skies.  

Azriel wasted no time in heading straight for Devlon when he landed, his shadows skittering in all directions in their own search. The littlest one that she had become so fond of stuck with him, wailing in his ear. The commander met him halfway. “I know why you are here, Singer.” He said, “None of us had anything to do with it, we don’t know where she is, just that she’s gone.” “Truth, truth, truth.” The little shadow wailed in his ear. Azriel nodded once, “You and everyone here is to stay here, in the centre of camp and out of my way.” He said, his voice promising a cold death if they disregarded his order. Devlon nodded once and Azriel strode away. “Not here, not here, not here!” the little shadow repeated over and over again. “I know!” He growled at it, “Unless you know where she is, be quiet!” The shadow darted from his ear, up into his hair where it hid. He took to the skies again, circling the camp and the surrounding areas in slightly largest circles each time when Rhys and Cassian arrived. Rhysand took over sorting out a plan of action as the urgency and panic was starting to eat away at Azriel. He didn’t understand what was going on but the Spymaster almost suffocating with the frantic anxiety that was crawling up his throat and constricting his chest. His brothers shared a knowing look but did not enlighten him. He didn’t care. If it wasn’t her location, he wasn’t interested. The little shadow slid down his face, to its place curled round his ear and began to whisper once more. “Taken, hurt, taken, hurt.” “Where?!” He demanded and a swarm of shadows engulfed him, taking him to where they had found her.  

Azriel almost vomited again when he saw her, lying broken in the grass, in the exact spot where she had been broken a year prior. “Find out why she was at Ironcrest!” He snapped at a group of shadows that quickly departed. y she’s in Ironcrest!” He snapped at a group of nearby shadows. Whether she came here of her own free will or was taken against it, the outcome was going to be the same. The torture master of the Night Court was coming out to play and they were going to suffer. People were going to die and this camp would be red by the time he was done. Her favourite little shadow was already racing towards her. Azriel had never heard a shadow scream before, and it was haunting. A sound he would never forget for as long as he lived. He would wake from nightmares to that sound, just like he did to the sound of the flesh on his hands sizzling when he was a child. There was no way to describe the state of her already broken wings, or the amount of blood she was covered in. “Help her! Master! Help her!” The little shadow was screaming at him as he fell to his kness beside her, checking her breath. She was still breathing, that was a start. He heard Rhys and Cassian land behind him. “Not again.” He heard Rhys mumble and he whirled on his brother, “What. Do. You. Mean. Again?” He demanded, Cassian was the one who spoke, “Not now, she needs us!”  

Azriel turned back to the beautiful broken female lying in the grass. “Y/N? Can you hear me?” He asked, her eyes flew open, unfocused, and wild. Unsure of who was in front of her she went to move away and defend herself when she screamed. He assumed due to the pain she was currently in. “Y/N, it’s me!” Her eyes focused for a second and softened upon seeing him, she croaked his name, and a snap took place deep within his chest at the sound of his name and all of his instincts got stronger, harder to fight and he knew exactly what had happened. “There it is.” Cassian said to Rhys quietly who nodded back at the General. She went limp again. She would’ve hit the ground if not for Cassian catching her, placing her gently back down, from the seated position she was in. “No, no, no, baby, stay with me!” Azriel said desperately reaching for her. “Rhysand, help me!” He begged his High Lord, “Madja is the only one who can help her now, we need to move.” Rhys told him, Azriel stood, cradling her in his arms. Shadows were racing towards him from the trees. He handed her to Rhys as gently as possible. “You can winnow faster than my shadows. Take her.” Rhys nodded and was gone.  

“In the trees, in the trees.” The shadows told him upon reaching him. He and Cassian followed, both males freezing upon finding a young girl, no older than 4, crying softly under a tree. Cassian made himself as small as possible when he realised Azriel was in no state to deal with this and met the little ones eyes, “What are you doing out here all by yourself little lady?” He asked with a gentle smile at the girl. “Are you going to hurt her?” The girl asked, baring her little teeth at Cassian, Azriel would have laughed if he had it in him. “No, we’re her friends.” Cassian told her softly, “She helped me.” She croaked, “They tried to take my wings.” Azriel ground his teeth so hard he thought they’d break. “Are you hurt?” Cassian asked and she shook her head no, “Just a little cut.” She said, expanding her tiny wing so show them a graze. “Where’s your mother? Your father?” her bottom lip wobbled at the question, “Dead.” She said as another fat tear rolled down her cheek. She crawled towards them, completely by-passing Cassian and holding her little arms up to Azriel. He complied, picking up the girl and resting her on his hip. “Please don’t take me back. I want to go with her.” She begged, placing her little hands on either side of his face. Azriel and Cassian had a silent conversation between them. There was no question, the girl would come with them, they would find her a good home. She'd never come back to the camps. “You don’t have to go back,” Azriel said as calmly as he could manage, “But you need to go with Cassian now, okay?” She studied him some more, “Are you coming too?” She asked, why this girl had picked him to trust he didn’t know, especially now, with shadows pouring out of him and death radiating out of his pores. Azriel nodded at her, “Yes Little One, I’m coming too, but I have to go to the camp first.” She nodded at him and let Azriel hand her to Cassian, “Ready to fly little lady?” He asked her with a grin, “I can’t fly yet. Don't know how.” She told him, Cassian ruffled her hair, “That’s okay, I’ll fly us.” He said. Azriel was already walking away, “Where are you going?” Cassian called after him, Azriel didn’t stop moving as he said. “To work.”  

Rhys was waiting for him on the edge of the camp. Fucking Cassian. “Do not try and stop me, Rhysand.” Azriel warned and Rhys held his hands up in mock surrender. “Stop you?” He asked, “I’m here to help you.” That stoppped Azriel in his tracks. “To hurt an innocent like they hurt her is one thing, to be handled diplomatically as they see no issue with their ways, ways that I am trying to outlaw.” He said, “To hurt my brothers mate? That is another and for that, they will pay.” Azriel almost smiled. “You knew?” He asked, “I had my suspicions,” Rhys told him, “But I didn’t know for sure, not until today.” Rhys’ eyes glazed over for a second. “Cassian is on his way.” Azriel didn’t get time to ask his question before Rhys carried on talking. “The girl is fine, she's with Mor, she met Cassian halfway, she doesn’t know her own name though, so you’ll have to think of one for her.” Rhys told him, “Me?” Azriel asked, “Shall we start calling you Daddy Az now?” Cassian asked as he landed beside them. Azriel shoved an elbow into his ribs. “What?! Cassian asked, “She was asking for you and Y/N the whole way back.” The three of them strode into the camp, their intentions clear. Illyrians began to scatter but none got far thanks to the wards Rhys had thrown up around the camp. Malakai and his friends were easy to find.  

Once the brothers had gotten their prisoners situated in that chamber far below Hewn City, Rhys and Cassian once again departed, off to tell the Lord of Ironcrest his son would not be returning, Azriel got to work. Their deaths would not be quick, would not be merciful. He would not start with their wings, oh no. That would be a day two or three job. He wouldn’t take them too early, wouldn’t let them think they had lost that what Illyrians held most dear at the start, it would take all the fight out of them and that’s what he wanted, a fight. So he’d start small, Azriel knew exactly where to cut to cause the most amount of pain with the least amount of threat to life, but they would not leave here, not alive, not whole, and certainly not through the door. When the males were groaning, bleeding and full of Fae Bane, he left them hanging by their wrists. To spend their night being tormented by the beasts below.  

“Absolutely not!” Mor said as soon as she saw him. “Go and bathe.” Azriel growled at her, the need to check on Y/N and the tiny girl they had found pressing down on him so much he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “That little girl has been through enough without you showing up looking like that and terrifying her!” Mor hissed at him pushing him down the hallway towards his own room. “They are both fine, both strong.” She told him and the weight lifted enough for him to get a breath down. “Come back when you’re clean.” She said, turning away and walking back down the corridor.  

Once clean, he returned. His bath had done nothing to heal the tension in his body. He found his family gathered in a tight circle, whispering amongst one another. “I want to see her.” He said, garnering their attention and Rhys nodded at him, gesturing towards the door. He and Cassian followed Rhys him in. Every muscle in his body froze when he saw her. “Before you lose it,” Rhys said, “What was done was for the best, for her health.” “For her health?” Azriel repeated as a question. “Yes, she already had a nasty infection setting in and-” Azriel cut him off, “Her wings are gone! Gone Rhys, completely gone!” He roared. “It was for the best Az, It really was.” Cassian piped up. “With the new damage caused and the infection setting in, she would’ve lost the ability to walk as well, Rhys and Madja made a difficult decision, but it was the right one.” Panic was crawling up his throat, “I can’t.” He choked out, “I can’t be here!” Gods he was pitiful, she deserved a better mate than him. One that would sit by her bedside until she woke, one that helped her through this, but Azriel could barely look at her. “Az!” Feyre called after him as he fled the room, “There's someone in the sitting room whose been asking for you since they arrived.” She said catching up with him and taking his elbow, steering him towards the sitting room.  

“Mama!” Nyx called out, running into Feyre’s legs as soon as he spotted her. She picked him up, placing a kiss on each of his cheeks, “Hello my love!” She greeted him warmly. “She doesn’t know how to play.” Nyx whispered quietly to his mother and Azriel didn’t miss the longing in the little girl's gaze as she watched Feyre interact with Nyx. So, he took a deep breath to steady himself and crouched down, opening his arms to her in invitation, he was going to do something right today. She hesitated, for only a moment before a brilliant grin split across her face and she ran into his arms. “How’s your wing, Little One?” He asked as he stood with her, she extended it to show him, “The lady fixed it.” She told him and began rambling on and on about the light in Madja’s hands and the tingly creams she had used. He took a seat on the sofa, the one he clearly remembered Y/N telling him was the softest thing she had ever felt. He was going to buy her 12. The little girl situated herself in his lap, still talking a mile a minute.  “They tell me you don’t know your name.” She looked up at him, her big brown eyes shining, “Never had one.” She said and his face softened, even in that cell, all those years ago he had a name. Something that belonged to him. “Why don’t we pick you one?” He asked her, so wrapped up in this child he didn’t even notice Feyre and Nyx slip out of the room. “Okay?” She agreed, sounding doubtful. “Hmm,” He mused, “What about Luna?” He asked and she screwed her nose up, “No you’re right,” He said, “Sounds like a hounds name.” She giggled at him, placing both her hands on his face again, he took a mental note to figure out why she did that. “Selena? It means the Moon?” He asked and she shook her head, “I’m not a moon! I’m a girl, silly!” He huffed out a laugh, “My mistake, Little One, Lennox?” He asked, “No!” He grinned down at her, “This is hard!” He told her and she nodded her little head in agreement. “Theodora, Theo for short?” He asked, “Does that mean moon?” She asked, “No, Little One, Theodora means Gift of God.” She pondered it for a moment, “What god?” She asked, he had no answer for that. Azriel knew in his bones that this girl was a gift of God, but it didn’t suit her. “I don’t think it suits you,” He said, “Marceline?” He asked and her face softened at the sound of it. He watched her mouth the word, testing it on her tongue. Her smile answered his question, she was Marceline, she was his Little Warrior. 

Nyx came running back into the room, “Dinner!” He announced and Azriel caught the excitement on Marceline’s little face, and he wondered when the last time she ate a proper meal had been. His family would have fed her when she arrived, but a proper dinner, he didn't know. She scrambled off of his lap, “I have a name!” She told Nyx proudly, “What is it?” Nyx asked, “Marceline!” She told him, Nyx seemed to ponder the name she had told him, “Marcie.” He said, “I’m going to call you Marcie.” She grinned at him, “Let’s go!” She said, offering her hand towards Azriel to hold on the way to dinner and he felt lighter than he had in days smiling down at the two children clasping hands at his side. He made a note to talk to Cassian after dinner about turning the rooms that they used to share into somewhere for himself and Marceline to reside seeing as Cassian moved into the main bedroom with Nesta what seemed like years ago and to ask Mor to go with him for clothes and toys for the little girl. He had thought they would find her a good home, but he knew in the very marrow of his being that there was no better home for her than here, with him and hopefully Y/N. Besides, she had a built in best friend in Nyx here.  

“See, she’s not scary!” Marceline told him days later when she had coaxed him into Y/N’s room. He sat stiffly in the chair next to her bed, Marceline perched on the bed next to her. Wishing he could switch places with her. She didn’t deserve to be lying there. Marceline had been begging him to come with her for days and he had finally relented. “She wasn’t scared at all, Azzy!” Marceline told him proudly, “She hit him real good until the second and third one turned up.” Azriel knew she had. He’d seen the bruises on Malakai’s face himself. “I want to learn how to fight like her!” She continued, “Nyxie says when we’re old enough we can train together but I told him we’re not going to the camps to train.” She rambled on, “He said his Daddy went to camp, with you and Cassie?” She asked, “We did, Little One, that’s where we met.” He told her, “So, Nyxie is going to be High Lord, I’ll be whatever you are and we need a Cassie!” She said and his blood ran cold at the idea of this sweet little girl being anything like him. “Nyx will be High Lord,” He agreed, “But you, you Little One, you can be whatever you want to be.” He told her, “But what if I want to be like you? A hero? Brave?” She asked him, “My Little One, you already are those things.” He told her. Movement in his peripheral vision snagged his attention. After three long days, she was waking up, “Marceline, can you go and find the others for me please?” He asked, she nodded happily, jumping off of the bed and gliding towards the floor, her little legs already running before he feet touched the wooden floorboards, “Be careful!” He called after her. Unlike the little shadow that had chosen Y/N and that had not left her side since he had found her, the one that had chosen Marceline was bigger and clung to her little wings most of the time, “Go with her, keep her safe, make sure she doesn’t run into an important meeting if Rhys is in one.” He told it. Realistically he could’ve called the others himself, but he was unsure of how Y/N was going to react, what headspace she would be in, and he needed Marceline safe and out of the way. “Keep an eye on her and Nyx, make sure they are playing.” The shadow shot off after the little girl.  

Y/N:  

You could hear Azriel. He was nearby and talking to someone, move, move move. You urged your hand and to your infinite surprise. It did move. He was here, he had come. You had heard everyone else over the past however long you had been in this darkness, including a little voice you didn’t know, but it rambled at you a mile a minute. “Y/N, come back to me.” Azriel spoke again and you wanted to shout at him that you were trying! Your eyes darted around the darkness and a shimmer urged you towards it. The closer you got to it the brighter it shined. A beautiful golden thread. You grasped it in one hand and pulled as hard as you could. You heard a gasp, then felt a tug back and with that your eyes flew open. “Azriel.” You said, except it didn’t come out as his name, rather a garbled mess of letters. “Here,” He said, propping you up gently with one arm and bringing a glass of water to your lips with the other and you drank deeply. “I need you to stay calm,” He said, “But I have to tell you something.” You looked up at him, “My wings are gone.” You said before he told you. He nodded, “I’m so so sorry.” He said, “If I could give you back the sky, I would.” His eyes shone with nothing but truth. “Is she okay? The little girl?” You asked and a dazzling smile graced his lips, “Ask her yourself.” He said as a little girl with big brown eyes came bounding into the room, a shadow chasing after her. “You’re awake!” She exclaimed. “I’m awake.” You told her as she scrambled onto the bed next to you, helped the last couple of inches by Azriel. “Are you okay?” You asked her, “Are you?” She replied, “I think so.” You told her. “I’m okay,” She said, “Just one little cut that's going to be a scar like Azzy’s! How cool is that?!” She asked, extending her little wing to show you. Azriel visibly cringed that this little girl thought anything about him was admirable. “What’s your name?” You asked her and she looked at Azriel with a big grin before turning back to you, “Marceline.” She said proudly, “Azzy gave it to me!” Azriel cleared his throat, “Well, technically, we picked it together.” She ignored him. “I didn’t have one before!” She told you.  

Azriel sent Marceline and her shadow to go and find Nyx to play with and he was seated back in the chair next to your bed. “So, you're like a dad now?” You asked teasingly and he shrugged, “I guess so.” You smiled up at him, “It suits you.” He smiled bashfully. “Do you know?” He asked, “Know what?” You said, confusion washing over you, “What we are to each other?” He asked gently, it was then you remembered the thread and you gasped. “Are we, Mates?” You asked and he nodded. “How long have you known?” “When I found you. It snapped.” He told you. You just stared at him, “I understand if you want to reject it, if you don’t want me, I’m hardly the kind of male you deserve, hel, a 4-year-old had to drag me in here because I couldn’t face it, seeing you, looking so lifeless.” You cut him off, “Azriel?” He stopped talking, “Are those three males hanging in a dungeon somewhere, bleeding and wishing they’d never been born?” You asked and he nodded dumbly, “Of course they are, they laid hands on you, twice. You no longer have wings so neither do they.” He said, your smile clearly took him by surprise, “Then you are exactly the male I deserve, I see you, Azriel, all of you and I’m not scared.” You said softly, “Let’s just take it a day at a time, see where we end up.” He smiled, “A day at a time.” He agreed.  

[floof-poof]

I LOVE IT I LOVE IT SOOO MUCH ITS AMAZING ITS PERFECT ITS A MASTERPIECE I NEED IT ENGRAVED ON MY HEADSTONE I NEED IT LIKE I NEED AIR!!!!!!!

Flightless (Reimagined) - Azriel Shadowsinger

A/N - Okay so this is a rewritten version of this fic - I really hope you enjoy.

T/W: Very brief mention of S/A it isn't talked about in detail, the R word isn't used but please keep yourselves safe and don't read if at all triggering for you. Talks of violence.

W/C: 7.7K

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you took a deep breath, steeled yourself against the biting cold, and approached one of the most terrifying males you knew. You wanted to do this, wanted to learn. "Excuse me, Lord Devlon?" He took his sweet time before he looked at you, before he acknowledged you. "What is it, girl?" He asked, no malice in his voice, but it wasn't kind either. "I was wondering if it would be acceptable for me to join training with the other girls in the mornings?" The two warriors next to him snorted, the third sneered, "What use would you be, girl? Your wings weren't even clipped, I don’t think there's a word for what happened to your wings, your missing half of one and the other is bent all wrong." A shudder ran through you at the memory, the agony, the heartbreak of never being able to feel the wind again, of never being able to answer its call again. 

Devlon paled slightly as he looked past you and snapped at the three warriors with him to get back to work, the third still sneering at you as he went. "I survived sir." You told Devlon quietly, "I survived what happened to me, I'm strong enough to train like an Illyrian." He ran a hand down his face, and you felt someone approach behind you, you did not turn but your spin straightened, and your broken wings flared as best as they could. "You'll get yourself killed, you'll be thrown into the Rite, just like the others. Besides, we start training as children, your age is against you." You looked up at him and met his eyes, "I can do this sir, please, let me try." He opened his mouth to reply but another voice came from behind you. "Why do you want to train so badly?" You turned slowly only to be met by the Lord of Bloodshed himself. The General of the Night Court stood tall, proud, and strong. The wind was whipping the lose pieces of his hair around his face. Seven ruby red siphons glinted in the sun. You had never seen him up close, but from here you almost crumbled under how powerful he clearly was.  

"I was held down as they mutilated my wings, my Lord. I was helpless, I couldn’t defend myself, I didn’t know how to." You could have sworn the air thickened, and the sky darkened as the Shadowsinger and the High Lord himself approached. "Who took your wings?” Cassian growled, glaring at Devlon as he did. “Well, it didn’t happen here!” Devlon snapped at the General who bared his teeth in response. These two clearly were not friends. “It happened at the Ironcrest Camp.” You told him quickly, your nerves fraying due to looks being exchanged between the two males you currently stood between, the last thing you wanted was to be caught between two fighting Illyrians. “This camp has been good to me.” You continued. “Devlon.” The High Lord greeted, “Rhysand.” Devlon gritted back. “Why won’t you train the girl?” Rhysand asked and Devlon gestured towards you, “Look at her, she’s in no shape to train, to fight. She wouldn’t last an hour in the Rite.” Rhysand studied you, “What happened to your wings?” He asked, his star flecked eyes meeting your own. “This isn’t a traditional clipping.” He said and you shuddered against the memory. “Let me see.” He said as you felt his power caressing your mind and then there, he was, in the middle of that night with you.  

Ironcrest was cold. Colder than Windhaven. There was a reason it was known as the cruellest camp, and it wasn’t just the biting weather that gave it that reputation. You were making your way back to your decrepit tent after clearing up after dinner. The males, as usual had eaten more than their share, your own you had split between the few daughters of the camp. Those who were discarded as soon as they were born. Urchins the males referred to them as. Stomach cramping with hunger you prayed to the Mother you wouldn’t run into Malakai, the Lord's son, the Male with the cruellest reputation, one that was well earned. You felt a flinch on the edge of the memory, and you knew it was the High Lord sensing your fear as you continued to walk through the dark. You had seen Malakai at dinner, drinking heavily and you knew that would do nothing to improve the perpetual sense of rage he seemed to live in. He, for some reason, had taken a shine to you and not in a good or kind way. You could see your tent in the distance, so so close, when all of a sudden, a hand wrapped around your mouth, trapping any sound, another arm around your waist, trapping your already weak wings from the lack of flying, females were not to be seen in the sky here, most of which had already been clipped. Everything went black before you could react. When you woke, three males surrounded you, Malakai and his two, equally sadistic friends. They were a band of brothers, much like the High Lord, the General and the Shadowsinger. You weren’t sure why you thought about them in that moment, maybe because they’d be the only ones to save you, but they wouldn’t come and why would they? You felt Rhysand flinch again at the thought.  

“Welcome back, sweetheart,” Malakai crooned at you, you didn’t look at him, you kept your gaze downcast. A good, submissive female. “You’ve been struting around here unchecked for too long.” He said, “I made it quite clear that you were to be mine and seeing as you won’t submit on your own, I’ll take what is rightfully mine.” Fear shot through your entire being and your body went numb as his friends held you face down in the dirt. You couldn’t fight, couldn’t move due to their weight. Laying there helpless you cried as Malakai hacked at your wings. Not at the base as you had expected, as you had witnessed in previous clippings while on your knees, holding the unfortunate females hands, promising her everything would be okay. There was no one to do that for you as you felt your left wing tear, as you felt the right one break. No one to tell you it was going to be okay as he forced himself on you as his friends laughed while you were bleeding out in the snow. You weren’t sure how long you cried in the snow, naked, cold, broken, it could’ve been hours before the daughters you looked after came looking, before they dragged you as best they could back to your tent and sat with you. You weren’t sure if the Mother herself was watching over you because even though part of you died that night, you were still alive come daybreak.  

“Enough! Rhys, enough!” A voice like night personified spoke, close to your ear. You felt the cold seeping into your tattered dress as Rhysand retreated from your mind. There was a warmth at your back you noticed as you looked at the High Lord’s face and saw nothing but rage there. “Are you okay?” The same voice asked you, “It can be unsettling the first time he does that.” It continued, you craned your neck and saw the Shadowsinger, looking down at you and you came to the mortifying realisation that you were in his embrace, on the floor. You scrambled away from him, “I’m sorry my Lord, I’m so sorry!” You rushed out. The General let out a laugh and pulled you from the ground gently, setting you back on your feet and making sure you were steady before he stepped away. “She trains.” Rhysand spoke, authority coating his words, daring Devlon to argue with him. “If she wishes to train, to learn how to defend herself, she trains.” He said. Devlon was silent for a long moment. “With me.” It was not Devlon who had spoken but the Shadowsinger. “She trains with me, personally.” He wasn’t telling Devlon, nor was he asking permission, he was telling the High Lord that training you was going to be his task, and his alone. The two of them seemed to have some kind of silent argument if the tick in the Spymasters jaw was anything to go by before Rhysand finally said, “So be it Az, she trains with you.” You couldn’t fight the small smile that graced your lips, even if your cheeks were burning with embarrassment from having been in his lap only moments ago. “Thank you, Shadowsinger.” You said quietly. He didn’t smile, he just nodded. “Azriel, my name is Azriel.”  

As instructed you were outside one of the only shops in Windhaven at daybreak. The door clicked open, and a female slipped out. “Oh, you must be Y/N.” She smiled gently. You returned her smile, “Yes, are you Emerie?” She nodded in confirmation that she was indeed Emerie. She looked you up and down and you didn’t miss her eyes snagging on the half of a wing hanging from your left side. “So, you’re Azriel’s new project.” She mused. “His new project?” You asked, “He’s just training me?” You said. “He’s a wonderful male, kind, gentle, but he’s dangerous and he’s easy to fall for.” She warned, “Have you?” You asked, “Fallen for him?” You clarified and she laughed, “Me? No, I prefer the company of females.” She told you with a smirk. Oh, oh. “I have no plans to fall for him, I just want to learn.” You told her and she smiled gently again, “Just be careful.” was all she said as the most beautiful female you had ever seen appeared and gave Emerie a dazzling smile. She bounced up to you, “Hi, I’m Mor!” He voice was like windchimes. “Hello, I’m Y/N.” You smiled, “Ready to learn how to kick these males asses?” She grinned and offered you a hand as you nodded.  

Winnowing was a strange sensation, it felt like falling and staying still all at once and then you really were falling. The air left your lungs as you collided with something and then you were flying. “Welcome to Velaris.” You opened your eyes to see the High Lord and you were flying. A grin split across your face; it had almost been a year since you had last flown and the wind felt incredible against your skin. Rhysand smiled down at you as he did a couple of loops of the house below while you grinned before he eventually landed. You finally took in the view of the city he had called Velaris. “It’s beautiful here,” you breathed. “You should see it at Starfall.” A female spoke from behind you. Turning to face the voice you saw the High Lord with his arms around a beautiful female and you knew exactly who she was. You dropped into a courtesy, “High Lady,” you greeted. She smiled warmly, “Just Feyre is fine.” She told you, taking your hand and helping you straighten and regain your balance, the wind causing your wings to knock you off kilter. “Is that what you are training in?” She asked, referring to your tattered dress and your cheeks burned with embarrassment. “It’s all I have.” You admitted and she frowned at her husband. “It’s fine, really!” You insisted and she didn’t argue with you.  

“Are you ready?” Azriel’s voice sent chills down your spine. You took a deep breath and turned to face him. “I am.” You told him. “We’re training a level up.” He told you, “This place goes higher?” You gasped, “It does, all that’s up there is a training ring, slightly smaller than this one, Cassian will be training Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn down here.” You nodded at him, “Once you're caught up you are welcome to join them, Nesta has already extended the invitation.” You smiled, that was incredibly kind of her, you had never been included before. In anything. “Let’s go.” He said, walking towards the door leading into the house. The interior took your breath away. You had never seen the outside of the camps before and you couldn’t comprehend how grand this house was. “Do you live here?” You gasped, freezing in place and taking in the parlour room. Azriel turned upon hearing your footsteps hault. Due to your half a wing your steps had a telltale uneven sound to them. He allowed a rare turn up of his lips at the sight of wonder on your face. “Yes, with Cassian and Nesta.” You didn’t acknowledge his words, still taking in the rich wallpaper, the plus sofas and chairs. “I’m not here much though, I’m often away for work but whenever I’m in the city this is where I reside.” He continued, that seemed to pull you back to him, “Oh, am I keeping you from that?” You asked gently, concern coating your eyes, “I can train at the camps, honestly, its fine.” You rushed out. Azriel shook his head, “You aren’t keeping me from anything.” He inclined his head towards the door and you followed next to him, running your hand along the back of the sofa, “I’ve never felt something so soft!” You exclaimed; an amused raise of his brows was all he gave you in return. You struggled up the stairs, your wings leaving your gait uneven, stairs was something you hadn’t faced in a long time, and it seemed you could no longer go up them very well. Azriel didn’t push or hurry you like you expected, he merely kept a step behind you to catch you if you fell. You were exhausted by the time you’d reached the training ring but more than determined to prove yourself. 

Training that day was brutal. Not because you got hurt, in fact, Azriel didn’t touch you once, didn’t once enter your personal space. He had started you off with footwork. It was much harder than you thought simple footwork would be, but your uneven wings made life difficult as did the shadows that constantly danced around you, but you loved your new little friends and he couldn’t seem to call them back no matter how much he told them to leave you alone and find something useful to be doing, apparently they thought nothing was more useful than being around you. He never once lost his patience, he let you work through it. Let you pull yourself from the ground time after time with nothing but gentle encouragement. “Good,” he said at midday, “You did well today, we’ll do the same again tomorrow.” Sweat was pouring off of you by the time he was guiding you through a cool down. “How did it go?” Rhysand asked, appearing on the roof with the pair of you while you were lying on your back, fighting for your life trying to catch your breath. “It went well.” Azriel told him as you just stuck your arm in the air showing him a thumbs up. Rhysand just laughed at you. “Y/N, I have asked our healer, Madja, to take a look at your wings, just to make sure, if you’ll allow it?” He asked, your sat up, crossing your legs and looked at him, “Make sure of what? They can’t be fixed? Half of one is probably still in that field in Ironcrest.” You told him, “I know they can’t, but I’d like to know if they are causing you pain and if we can do anything about that.” He said a kind smile graced his face and you found yourself nodding. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Azriel said shortly, his attitude suddenly switched, and storms seemed to be brewing in his eyes. “Okay.” You mumbled quietly, slightly scared of the person he now seemed to be. “Azriel.” Rhysand growled, “You are to leave it alone, do you understand?” He commanded, pure High Lord. Azriel levelled him with a look, nodded once and took to the skies.  

Azriel:  

“Half of one is probably still in that field in Ironcrest.” Azriel wasn’t sure why the words had gutted him like they had or why they were playing over and over in his head. He knew something tragic had happened to her, something unforgivable, Rhys hadn’t shared with him or Cassian what he had seen in her mind yesterday, but it had taken all afternoon, several glasses of whiskey and Feyre perched on his lap before his brother had calmed. All he knew was that when she uttered those words a rage like he hadn’t felt for a long time consumed him. He was to leave it alone. That was an order from his High Lord, not his friend, not his brother, his High Lord. So alone he would leave it, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t investigate, Rhysand hadn’t said anything about investigating. So, naturally, he flew to Ironcrest. He kept quiet and out of sight of the main camp and sent his ever-helpful friends to investigate. He didn’t fail to notice the littlest one, the one that usually stuck to him like glue, rambling in his ear like an excited child, the one that hadn’t left her side all morning was the first to dart away at his command.  

It didn't take long before he heard a howl on the wind, they had found something. The remaining shadows engulfed him like a swarm. When they cleared again, he was in a small clearing. It was the little shadow howling for him and upon his arrival it came shooting towards him. "Look! Look! See, Master! See what they did!” It was frantically whispering at him. “Show me.” He answered it aloud and followed its lead. The smell of blood hit him first. Something that didn’t make sense, but he knew on instinct it was hers. Her injuries weren’t recent, not recent enough for the blood to linger, not with the weather up here anyway but it was as if her blood had permeated the earth and his wings unfurled with the anger that once again hit him like a tidal wave. He spotted it then, lying in the grass, half of a wing. Just like she said. The cuts were crude, as if the instrument used was too blunt for the cartilage of the wing. He knew, from his experiance in breaking people, that once they had sawed through the bone, they had torn through the skin with their bare hands, like one would with paper. Even as someone who inflicted pain for a living, he couldn’t imagine. His knees gave out without his permission, and he vomited. “Kill them! Make them suffer! Kill them all!” The little shadow was hissing as it darted around his head. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he forced himself to his feet. “I will little one, I will.” He told it, “I’ll help!” It insisted, “You’ll all help when the time is right, for now, some of you stay here, find out who did this to her, keep me informed.” He addressed all of his shadows, the sneakier of which took their leave at his command. The little one floating by his ear like an unofficial second in command.  

Y/N: 

As predicted, there was nothing Madja could do for your wings, other than keep you comfortable with them. Which Rhysand insisted she do despite your protest that they had already done far too much for you by allowing you to train. You left of course, with ointments, tinctures, and vials for your wings. You arrived at training the next morning, aching but determined as ever. “Go on up!” Nesta told you with a smile and you give her your best smile right back. Gritting your teeth you pulled yourself up the stairs to the second training ring. Azriel wasn’t there when you arrived so you wandered over to the edge of the ring, bending at the waist to feel the wind over the wall. Your right wing, the broken one tried hard to unfurl and feel the wind but shattering pain lanced through you and it quickly stopped its movement. You stood there, a small smile on your face, hair whipping around you. “I like it up here, I can feel the wind again, I can hear its song.” You told Azriel who looked downright shocked you knew he was there as he emerged from his shadows. You let out a small laugh and put your hair behind your ear, “This little one gave you away.” You told him, showing you the little shadow curled around your ear like it belonged there. Azriel glared at it and it dived into your hair. “Don’t be mean to my new friend!” You scolded him and half of his lip twitched up into a smile. He came and leant against the wall next to you, taking great care not to knock your wings, Rhysand must’ve told him about the exposed bone and nerve on the left one that you wouldn’t even let Madja touch. “It must be nice to live somewhere like this, up in the wind.” You told him, “Do you miss it?” He asked, and you looked at him to find him already watching you, “Of course I do, but this is as close as I’ll ever get now.” You told him with a shrug. “Shall we start?” You asked. “Not yet, let’s enjoy the wind a bit longer first.” He said. From that day on, the first 45 minuets of training, Azriel dedicated to sitting on the wall, enjoying the wind. Slowly and surely, the Shadowsinger started talking to you more and more.  

Azriel:  

Six months later Azriel had found himself looking forward to morning training. It was no longer a motion to go through. He found he enjoyed Y/N’s quiet company. Enjoyed that she had never once been scared to call him out on his shit. It was her that had finally gotten through to him about Elain. He was repeating old patterns, and he knew that now. “You’re worth more than you think, Azriel. You deserve real and true love, mate or not. But this thing you have with Elain, this isn’t it. You know it isn’t. She’s using you and you know it, deep down you know it.” She had told him three days ago. He was furious. How dare she think such a thing about Elain about him? All he had tried to do is help her! He hadn’t shown up for training the last two days, but he knew from Cassian that she had and stubbornly carried on without him. Today, he was swallowing his pride and apologising for his actions. He had reacted badly at the time and she had flinched, she had been scared of him in that moment and it made him sick. He knew she knew he would never lift a hand to her in such a way, but she had still flinched, and he would not forgive himself for it, for the scent of fear that filled the air as he walked away from her in the middle of a session.  

When he made it to the training ring, she wasn’t there. So he waited, five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen. Emerie came bursting onto the roof, Mor on her heels, Cassian, Nesta and Gwyn behind them. “She never turned up this morning!” Emerie told him in one breath. “Mor and I went to her tent but she wasn't there either!” He met Cassians gaze and saw the worry there, the tick in his brothers jaw. Cassian ran these camps as best he could but even Cassian wasn’t enough to corral the old ways and he could read it on the General’s face that he was worried about what they would find. “Find Rhysand, meet me there.” Was all he said to Cassian before launching to the skies.  

Azriel wasted no time in heading straight for Devlon when he landed, his shadows skittering in all directions in their own search. The littlest one that she had become so fond of stuck with him, wailing in his ear. The commander met him halfway. “I know why you are here, Singer.” He said, “None of us had anything to do with it, we don’t know where she is, just that she’s gone.” “Truth, truth, truth.” The little shadow wailed in his ear. Azriel nodded once, “You and everyone here is to stay here, in the centre of camp and out of my way.” He said, his voice promising a cold death if they disregarded his order. Devlon nodded once and Azriel strode away. “Not here, not here, not here!” the little shadow repeated over and over again. “I know!” He growled at it, “Unless you know where she is, be quiet!” The shadow darted from his ear, up into his hair where it hid. He took to the skies again, circling the camp and the surrounding areas in slightly largest circles each time when Rhys and Cassian arrived. Rhysand took over sorting out a plan of action as the urgency and panic was starting to eat away at Azriel. He didn’t understand what was going on but the Spymaster almost suffocating with the frantic anxiety that was crawling up his throat and constricting his chest. His brothers shared a knowing look but did not enlighten him. He didn’t care. If it wasn’t her location, he wasn’t interested. The little shadow slid down his face, to its place curled round his ear and began to whisper once more. “Taken, hurt, taken, hurt.” “Where?!” He demanded and a swarm of shadows engulfed him, taking him to where they had found her.  

Azriel almost vomited again when he saw her, lying broken in the grass, in the exact spot where she had been broken a year prior. “Find out why she was at Ironcrest!” He snapped at a group of shadows that quickly departed. y she’s in Ironcrest!” He snapped at a group of nearby shadows. Whether she came here of her own free will or was taken against it, the outcome was going to be the same. The torture master of the Night Court was coming out to play and they were going to suffer. People were going to die and this camp would be red by the time he was done. Her favourite little shadow was already racing towards her. Azriel had never heard a shadow scream before, and it was haunting. A sound he would never forget for as long as he lived. He would wake from nightmares to that sound, just like he did to the sound of the flesh on his hands sizzling when he was a child. There was no way to describe the state of her already broken wings, or the amount of blood she was covered in. “Help her! Master! Help her!” The little shadow was screaming at him as he fell to his kness beside her, checking her breath. She was still breathing, that was a start. He heard Rhys and Cassian land behind him. “Not again.” He heard Rhys mumble and he whirled on his brother, “What. Do. You. Mean. Again?” He demanded, Cassian was the one who spoke, “Not now, she needs us!”  

Azriel turned back to the beautiful broken female lying in the grass. “Y/N? Can you hear me?” He asked, her eyes flew open, unfocused, and wild. Unsure of who was in front of her she went to move away and defend herself when she screamed. He assumed due to the pain she was currently in. “Y/N, it’s me!” Her eyes focused for a second and softened upon seeing him, she croaked his name, and a snap took place deep within his chest at the sound of his name and all of his instincts got stronger, harder to fight and he knew exactly what had happened. “There it is.” Cassian said to Rhys quietly who nodded back at the General. She went limp again. She would’ve hit the ground if not for Cassian catching her, placing her gently back down, from the seated position she was in. “No, no, no, baby, stay with me!” Azriel said desperately reaching for her. “Rhysand, help me!” He begged his High Lord, “Madja is the only one who can help her now, we need to move.” Rhys told him, Azriel stood, cradling her in his arms. Shadows were racing towards him from the trees. He handed her to Rhys as gently as possible. “You can winnow faster than my shadows. Take her.” Rhys nodded and was gone.  

“In the trees, in the trees.” The shadows told him upon reaching him. He and Cassian followed, both males freezing upon finding a young girl, no older than 4, crying softly under a tree. Cassian made himself as small as possible when he realised Azriel was in no state to deal with this and met the little ones eyes, “What are you doing out here all by yourself little lady?” He asked with a gentle smile at the girl. “Are you going to hurt her?” The girl asked, baring her little teeth at Cassian, Azriel would have laughed if he had it in him. “No, we’re her friends.” Cassian told her softly, “She helped me.” She croaked, “They tried to take my wings.” Azriel ground his teeth so hard he thought they’d break. “Are you hurt?” Cassian asked and she shook her head no, “Just a little cut.” She said, expanding her tiny wing so show them a graze. “Where’s your mother? Your father?” her bottom lip wobbled at the question, “Dead.” She said as another fat tear rolled down her cheek. She crawled towards them, completely by-passing Cassian and holding her little arms up to Azriel. He complied, picking up the girl and resting her on his hip. “Please don’t take me back. I want to go with her.” She begged, placing her little hands on either side of his face. Azriel and Cassian had a silent conversation between them. There was no question, the girl would come with them, they would find her a good home. She'd never come back to the camps. “You don’t have to go back,” Azriel said as calmly as he could manage, “But you need to go with Cassian now, okay?” She studied him some more, “Are you coming too?” She asked, why this girl had picked him to trust he didn’t know, especially now, with shadows pouring out of him and death radiating out of his pores. Azriel nodded at her, “Yes Little One, I’m coming too, but I have to go to the camp first.” She nodded at him and let Azriel hand her to Cassian, “Ready to fly little lady?” He asked her with a grin, “I can’t fly yet. Don't know how.” She told him, Cassian ruffled her hair, “That’s okay, I’ll fly us.” He said. Azriel was already walking away, “Where are you going?” Cassian called after him, Azriel didn’t stop moving as he said. “To work.”  

Rhys was waiting for him on the edge of the camp. Fucking Cassian. “Do not try and stop me, Rhysand.” Azriel warned and Rhys held his hands up in mock surrender. “Stop you?” He asked, “I’m here to help you.” That stoppped Azriel in his tracks. “To hurt an innocent like they hurt her is one thing, to be handled diplomatically as they see no issue with their ways, ways that I am trying to outlaw.” He said, “To hurt my brothers mate? That is another and for that, they will pay.” Azriel almost smiled. “You knew?” He asked, “I had my suspicions,” Rhys told him, “But I didn’t know for sure, not until today.” Rhys’ eyes glazed over for a second. “Cassian is on his way.” Azriel didn’t get time to ask his question before Rhys carried on talking. “The girl is fine, she's with Mor, she met Cassian halfway, she doesn’t know her own name though, so you’ll have to think of one for her.” Rhys told him, “Me?” Azriel asked, “Shall we start calling you Daddy Az now?” Cassian asked as he landed beside them. Azriel shoved an elbow into his ribs. “What?! Cassian asked, “She was asking for you and Y/N the whole way back.” The three of them strode into the camp, their intentions clear. Illyrians began to scatter but none got far thanks to the wards Rhys had thrown up around the camp. Malakai and his friends were easy to find.  

Once the brothers had gotten their prisoners situated in that chamber far below Hewn City, Rhys and Cassian once again departed, off to tell the Lord of Ironcrest his son would not be returning, Azriel got to work. Their deaths would not be quick, would not be merciful. He would not start with their wings, oh no. That would be a day two or three job. He wouldn’t take them too early, wouldn’t let them think they had lost that what Illyrians held most dear at the start, it would take all the fight out of them and that’s what he wanted, a fight. So he’d start small, Azriel knew exactly where to cut to cause the most amount of pain with the least amount of threat to life, but they would not leave here, not alive, not whole, and certainly not through the door. When the males were groaning, bleeding and full of Fae Bane, he left them hanging by their wrists. To spend their night being tormented by the beasts below.  

“Absolutely not!” Mor said as soon as she saw him. “Go and bathe.” Azriel growled at her, the need to check on Y/N and the tiny girl they had found pressing down on him so much he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “That little girl has been through enough without you showing up looking like that and terrifying her!” Mor hissed at him pushing him down the hallway towards his own room. “They are both fine, both strong.” She told him and the weight lifted enough for him to get a breath down. “Come back when you’re clean.” She said, turning away and walking back down the corridor.  

Once clean, he returned. His bath had done nothing to heal the tension in his body. He found his family gathered in a tight circle, whispering amongst one another. “I want to see her.” He said, garnering their attention and Rhys nodded at him, gesturing towards the door. He and Cassian followed Rhys him in. Every muscle in his body froze when he saw her. “Before you lose it,” Rhys said, “What was done was for the best, for her health.” “For her health?” Azriel repeated as a question. “Yes, she already had a nasty infection setting in and-” Azriel cut him off, “Her wings are gone! Gone Rhys, completely gone!” He roared. “It was for the best Az, It really was.” Cassian piped up. “With the new damage caused and the infection setting in, she would’ve lost the ability to walk as well, Rhys and Madja made a difficult decision, but it was the right one.” Panic was crawling up his throat, “I can’t.” He choked out, “I can’t be here!” Gods he was pitiful, she deserved a better mate than him. One that would sit by her bedside until she woke, one that helped her through this, but Azriel could barely look at her. “Az!” Feyre called after him as he fled the room, “There's someone in the sitting room whose been asking for you since they arrived.” She said catching up with him and taking his elbow, steering him towards the sitting room.  

“Mama!” Nyx called out, running into Feyre’s legs as soon as he spotted her. She picked him up, placing a kiss on each of his cheeks, “Hello my love!” She greeted him warmly. “She doesn’t know how to play.” Nyx whispered quietly to his mother and Azriel didn’t miss the longing in the little girl's gaze as she watched Feyre interact with Nyx. So, he took a deep breath to steady himself and crouched down, opening his arms to her in invitation, he was going to do something right today. She hesitated, for only a moment before a brilliant grin split across her face and she ran into his arms. “How’s your wing, Little One?” He asked as he stood with her, she extended it to show him, “The lady fixed it.” She told him and began rambling on and on about the light in Madja’s hands and the tingly creams she had used. He took a seat on the sofa, the one he clearly remembered Y/N telling him was the softest thing she had ever felt. He was going to buy her 12. The little girl situated herself in his lap, still talking a mile a minute.  “They tell me you don’t know your name.” She looked up at him, her big brown eyes shining, “Never had one.” She said and his face softened, even in that cell, all those years ago he had a name. Something that belonged to him. “Why don’t we pick you one?” He asked her, so wrapped up in this child he didn’t even notice Feyre and Nyx slip out of the room. “Okay?” She agreed, sounding doubtful. “Hmm,” He mused, “What about Luna?” He asked and she screwed her nose up, “No you’re right,” He said, “Sounds like a hounds name.” She giggled at him, placing both her hands on his face again, he took a mental note to figure out why she did that. “Selena? It means the Moon?” He asked and she shook her head, “I’m not a moon! I’m a girl, silly!” He huffed out a laugh, “My mistake, Little One, Lennox?” He asked, “No!” He grinned down at her, “This is hard!” He told her and she nodded her little head in agreement. “Theodora, Theo for short?” He asked, “Does that mean moon?” She asked, “No, Little One, Theodora means Gift of God.” She pondered it for a moment, “What god?” She asked, he had no answer for that. Azriel knew in his bones that this girl was a gift of God, but it didn’t suit her. “I don’t think it suits you,” He said, “Marceline?” He asked and her face softened at the sound of it. He watched her mouth the word, testing it on her tongue. Her smile answered his question, she was Marceline, she was his Little Warrior. 

Nyx came running back into the room, “Dinner!” He announced and Azriel caught the excitement on Marceline’s little face, and he wondered when the last time she ate a proper meal had been. His family would have fed her when she arrived, but a proper dinner, he didn't know. She scrambled off of his lap, “I have a name!” She told Nyx proudly, “What is it?” Nyx asked, “Marceline!” She told him, Nyx seemed to ponder the name she had told him, “Marcie.” He said, “I’m going to call you Marcie.” She grinned at him, “Let’s go!” She said, offering her hand towards Azriel to hold on the way to dinner and he felt lighter than he had in days smiling down at the two children clasping hands at his side. He made a note to talk to Cassian after dinner about turning the rooms that they used to share into somewhere for himself and Marceline to reside seeing as Cassian moved into the main bedroom with Nesta what seemed like years ago and to ask Mor to go with him for clothes and toys for the little girl. He had thought they would find her a good home, but he knew in the very marrow of his being that there was no better home for her than here, with him and hopefully Y/N. Besides, she had a built in best friend in Nyx here.  

“See, she’s not scary!” Marceline told him days later when she had coaxed him into Y/N’s room. He sat stiffly in the chair next to her bed, Marceline perched on the bed next to her. Wishing he could switch places with her. She didn’t deserve to be lying there. Marceline had been begging him to come with her for days and he had finally relented. “She wasn’t scared at all, Azzy!” Marceline told him proudly, “She hit him real good until the second and third one turned up.” Azriel knew she had. He’d seen the bruises on Malakai’s face himself. “I want to learn how to fight like her!” She continued, “Nyxie says when we’re old enough we can train together but I told him we’re not going to the camps to train.” She rambled on, “He said his Daddy went to camp, with you and Cassie?” She asked, “We did, Little One, that’s where we met.” He told her, “So, Nyxie is going to be High Lord, I’ll be whatever you are and we need a Cassie!” She said and his blood ran cold at the idea of this sweet little girl being anything like him. “Nyx will be High Lord,” He agreed, “But you, you Little One, you can be whatever you want to be.” He told her, “But what if I want to be like you? A hero? Brave?” She asked him, “My Little One, you already are those things.” He told her. Movement in his peripheral vision snagged his attention. After three long days, she was waking up, “Marceline, can you go and find the others for me please?” He asked, she nodded happily, jumping off of the bed and gliding towards the floor, her little legs already running before he feet touched the wooden floorboards, “Be careful!” He called after her. Unlike the little shadow that had chosen Y/N and that had not left her side since he had found her, the one that had chosen Marceline was bigger and clung to her little wings most of the time, “Go with her, keep her safe, make sure she doesn’t run into an important meeting if Rhys is in one.” He told it. Realistically he could’ve called the others himself, but he was unsure of how Y/N was going to react, what headspace she would be in, and he needed Marceline safe and out of the way. “Keep an eye on her and Nyx, make sure they are playing.” The shadow shot off after the little girl.  

Y/N:  

You could hear Azriel. He was nearby and talking to someone, move, move move. You urged your hand and to your infinite surprise. It did move. He was here, he had come. You had heard everyone else over the past however long you had been in this darkness, including a little voice you didn’t know, but it rambled at you a mile a minute. “Y/N, come back to me.” Azriel spoke again and you wanted to shout at him that you were trying! Your eyes darted around the darkness and a shimmer urged you towards it. The closer you got to it the brighter it shined. A beautiful golden thread. You grasped it in one hand and pulled as hard as you could. You heard a gasp, then felt a tug back and with that your eyes flew open. “Azriel.” You said, except it didn’t come out as his name, rather a garbled mess of letters. “Here,” He said, propping you up gently with one arm and bringing a glass of water to your lips with the other and you drank deeply. “I need you to stay calm,” He said, “But I have to tell you something.” You looked up at him, “My wings are gone.” You said before he told you. He nodded, “I’m so so sorry.” He said, “If I could give you back the sky, I would.” His eyes shone with nothing but truth. “Is she okay? The little girl?” You asked and a dazzling smile graced his lips, “Ask her yourself.” He said as a little girl with big brown eyes came bounding into the room, a shadow chasing after her. “You’re awake!” She exclaimed. “I’m awake.” You told her as she scrambled onto the bed next to you, helped the last couple of inches by Azriel. “Are you okay?” You asked her, “Are you?” She replied, “I think so.” You told her. “I’m okay,” She said, “Just one little cut that's going to be a scar like Azzy’s! How cool is that?!” She asked, extending her little wing to show you. Azriel visibly cringed that this little girl thought anything about him was admirable. “What’s your name?” You asked her and she looked at Azriel with a big grin before turning back to you, “Marceline.” She said proudly, “Azzy gave it to me!” Azriel cleared his throat, “Well, technically, we picked it together.” She ignored him. “I didn’t have one before!” She told you.  

Azriel sent Marceline and her shadow to go and find Nyx to play with and he was seated back in the chair next to your bed. “So, you're like a dad now?” You asked teasingly and he shrugged, “I guess so.” You smiled up at him, “It suits you.” He smiled bashfully. “Do you know?” He asked, “Know what?” You said, confusion washing over you, “What we are to each other?” He asked gently, it was then you remembered the thread and you gasped. “Are we, Mates?” You asked and he nodded. “How long have you known?” “When I found you. It snapped.” He told you. You just stared at him, “I understand if you want to reject it, if you don’t want me, I’m hardly the kind of male you deserve, hel, a 4-year-old had to drag me in here because I couldn’t face it, seeing you, looking so lifeless.” You cut him off, “Azriel?” He stopped talking, “Are those three males hanging in a dungeon somewhere, bleeding and wishing they’d never been born?” You asked and he nodded dumbly, “Of course they are, they laid hands on you, twice. You no longer have wings so neither do they.” He said, your smile clearly took him by surprise, “Then you are exactly the male I deserve, I see you, Azriel, all of you and I’m not scared.” You said softly, “Let’s just take it a day at a time, see where we end up.” He smiled, “A day at a time.” He agreed.  

[floof-poof]

READ IT AT UR OWN RISK, I AM LEGITIMATELY CRYING RN LIKE THERE ARE ACTUAL TEARS STREAMING DOWN MY FACE!!!!!!

Birds of a Feather - Azriel Shadowsinger

A/N: Honestly, it's a bit of a mess, visions, switching POV's but I hope you enjoy.

T/W: Angst, Torture, Blood, Fire, Teeth etc.

W/C: 4.1K

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Azriel? How? Elain?” those were the only three words you managed to string together as Cassian stood behind his wife who had just blown your life wide open. “I’m sorry, we all love you, we do, but Elain just fits with him, and someone needed to tell you.” Nesta told you as gently as she could, which, coming from Nesta, your eldest sister, was not very gently at all. You looked to Cassian instead. Cassian who had loved you like a brother, protected you like a brother since he had strolled into the Manor that day with Rhysand and Feyre, with Azriel. “But he fits with me, isn’t that what the bond is?” you had known it was him from the second you had fallen out of the Cauldron, dripping wet and shivering, covered in ice burns.

Nesta had said the Cauldron was scalding, you had experienced the opposite. Cassian was clearly struggling for words as he said, “Even the Mother can be wrong sometimes.” Tears welled in your eyes, “Elain? All this time?” Nesta nodded slowly. “Well, that seems about right, she always was the twin that had to have everything.” You said as you shook the tears from your eyes and straightened your spine. “Don’t do that.” Cassian said a tinge of warning in his tone, and you span on him, “Do what, Cass?” You demanded, “Don’t write yourself off like that.” You scoffed, “I didn’t write myself off, Elain did, Azriel did!” “Azriel did what?” Rhys asked, as if appearing out of nowhere, Feyre less than a step behind him as usual, Nyx in her arms, stretching towards you. “Nothing, it doesn’t matter!” You spat as you took your leave of the roof, completely ignoring your nephew.  

Typical, typical Elain to take yet another thing from you. As twins the two of you couldn’t have been more different, hel you didn't even look the same. No even then, even in the womb she took all the beauty and softness for herself, leaving you with sharp edges and gangly limbs. She was all feminine grace and you, well you just weren’t. You were awkward and clumsy and had no interest in men at all. Well not until a Shadowsinger strolled into your parlour room that fateful day and you had been captivated. You hadn’t been aware men could look like that. Well, he was a Male you supposed, a Fae Male. A completely different league than even the most handsome boy in your pitiful village. You swiped the tears angrily from your face as you stormed unevenly through the House of Wind when a hand grasped your upper arm and span you round. You watched angrily as the rest of the Shadowsinger emerged from his shadows that began to dance around you like you were an old friend they hadn’t seen for centuries. “What’s wrong? What happened?” He asked, death lacing his voice. “Nothing, Azriel, don’t worry about it.” His grip tightened slightly, “Doesn’t look like nothing.” he said through gritted teeth. You yanked your arm out of his grip, “Really, it’s nothing, leave it alone!” you hissed as you stormed away down the hall.  

You barely saw him after that if you could help it. He’d enter a room, you’d leave. He’d show up to start training, you’d finish training. He didn’t seem to notice. Always two steps behind Elain. Elain was a different story. She seemed different these days, shifty. You didn’t trust her much before, but at least you had the weird twin bond back then. It was muted now. A side effect of the Cauldron or of her you weren’t sure. It wasn’t your problem for right now. You had begged Rhys for a task, a job, anything to get you away from Azriel for a while. Away from the constant embarrassment you felt when you looked at him. You had been so clear in your affections and now you just felt like a fool. Rhys had tasked you with going to the human lands, to check in with Lucien and his Band of Exiles so here you were, walking towards the human lands, refusing to be taken. You had just set up camp for the night when a voice on the wind caught your attention.  

Against your better judgement, you followed the voice towards a clearing. You ducked behind a crumbling wall as the voice became louder and became two separate voices. “Lovely Faun, what information have you brought me this time?” A voice older than the earth crooned. “Koschei, master, he still resists.” That was Elain’s voice, but it couldn’t be, not your sister, she would never align herself with Koschei, would she? “I made you girl, you called out in the Cauldron, and I answered. I made you a Seer, more powerful than those who came before you! You then came to me and asked if I could undo it, if I could make you human again and did I not tell you what it would cost?” You peeked over the wall and saw her, your twin, saw her nod. “The Shadowsinger.” She said quietly, “I was to seduce him, to keep him away from my sister before he realised, they are Carranam, what they could do together.” She said, surer of herself now. “You need him for part of your plan.” She finished. Koschei hummed his agreement to what she had said.  

 “Bring him to me, lovely fawn, he will follow you, but it is important it is only him you bring.” Koschei rumbled, “I shall use the singer, brother will fight brother and with that, the only people who could band together against me will fissure and crack, then the world will be mine!” Elain seemed to hesitate by saying, “How do you know he will follow?” Koschei let out a laugh before something invisible gripped you and dragged you towards them. “Because I have something he won’t hesitate to fight for.” Elain gasped at the sight of you. “He doesn’t know why yet, but he won’t hesitate to follow when you tell him I have her but follow and fight he will, for his Mate.” Elain paled, “Mate? You said they were Carranam?!” Koschei laughed again, “They are, Lovely Fawn, Carranam and Mates, it has been an age since our world saw such a pair and they cannot be allowed to connect as such.” His voice was sharp now, as if his patience was running out. “Bring. Me. The. Singer.” He hissed at your twin as you fought against the invisible grip he had on you. She nodded, not even looking at you before she scampered away.  

Koschei finally turned his attention to you, “So we meet at last.” He said, looking you up and down, “I won’t let you use him.” You hissed, he let out an amused hum, “We’ll see about that, Little One.” He said as he turned away from you and then everything went black.  

It took some time for your other senses to come back to you when your vision returned. The room you found yourself in was dank, dark, and smelled of mildew. There was a constant drip drip drip from somewhere you couldn’t identify, and the temperature chilled your bones. If Koschei was trying to use the cold to make you uncomfortable he would fail, not even your blood ran warm these days, not since the Cauldron. You thrived in the cold, which was ironic considering how many years your sisters and you had spent cramped in one bed, shivering, clinging to each other for the slightest modicum of warmth. Icy rage burnt through you when you realised your leathers were gone, replaced by a thin white night gown. “You’re awake.” that ancient voice washed over you. You tried desperately to move, to see him, but you were restrained in one place, arms above your head, locked into place. “Are you ready?” Koschei asked, his voice sounding smug. “Ready for what?” You hissed. He came into your view, “Reconditioning.” He simply said. “I have a question first though,” he continued, “Did you really think the Shadowsinger would choose you? So sharp with all those edges,” he said, looking you up and down distastefully, he had been the one to change your clothes then. “Compared to the Lovely Fawn, what are you?” You didn’t dignify his question with an answer, because truly, he had you there. Who were you compared to Elain? Azriel, despite how he saw himself, was a truly a great Male. He was loyal, kind, caring, he listened, he understood, and he fought to the for those he loved. The only people you had ever heard him speak ill of was his own, the Illyrians. He was beautiful, so much so he could give Rhysand a run for his money. You didn’t deserve him. The Mother and the Cauldron had been cruel to him, to burden him with you.  

Koschei seemed to get fed up of your silence, snapping his fingers in front of your face to bring you back to the present. “Let’s begin, shall we?” before you had time to react, he swiped his hand over your face, your eyes fluttering closed.  

“Y/N.” Azriel greeted in a voice that promised death. “Az? What’s happening?” You asked, panic seizing through your body. “You know what’s happening.” He stated, “You betrayed us to Koschei and now you’re paying for it.” His words were like a physical blow. “No! I didn’t! I would never!” He levelled you with a glare. “So we’re doing this the hard way again today then?” You tried to shake your head, but you were restrained, tied to a table. Fear flooded through you as you realised exactly where you were, his torture chamber, deep below the Hewn City. He was going to destroy you. “Azriel, please, you have to believe me! I didn’t!” He slammed his hands down on the table of weapons he was surveying carefully, the weapons clanging together at the impact. “Do not lie to me!” He snapped, “Cassian is dead! I was made to watch as they held Rhys down and removed his wings! As they took his power from him! I listened as Feyre screamed as they took Nyx from her!” You turned your head to the side as best you could and vomited. “If it wasn’t for Elain we’d have never known who betrayed us, who sent my family to slaughter!” Azriel had sunk so far into himself, so far into that icy rage that you knew there was no getting through to him. His brothers dead and mutilated, his beloved nephew kidnapped. No matter what you said, he was never going to believe it. He was going to cause you pain that no one else could ever be creative enough to come up with. “Please?” You whimpered, a single tear falling down your cheek as he advanced, a wicked blade held in his hand. You couldn’t stop the scream that left your throat as he sliced the points off of your newly fae ears.  

Your eyes came back into focus, pain radiating through you. Koschei was standing infront of you. “Poor little Fae, what did the Shadowsinger do to you?” You closed your eyes at the onslaught of memories that hit you, of the last few hours you had spent with Azriel. Only just the beginning you knew. He’d removed the tops of your ears, pulled teeth and fingernails. Methods you knew were tame for him. He was capable of much much more. But still you fought it, “Wasn’t him.” You croaked; mouth full of blood. “Rest now.” Koschei said gently, “He’ll be back.”  

Azriel had come back, time after time, slowly carving away more parts of you, sinking further into his rage until he was someone you no longer recognised. This was him, the true him, the one who made enemies shudder when he landed on battlefields and emerged from shadows. The Angel of Death. He’d broken you this time. You had nothing more to give and you could no longer weather the storm that Azriel was. “I can help you.” Koschei said that evening, “I can teach you how to fight, fight someone as skilled as him, level the playing field.” You blinked up at him through swollen eyes, “You can?” He hummed, “Yes, Little One, I can.”  

Azriel’s shadows alerted him to someone beelining for his room. Panic, Panic, Panic. They whispered, Azriel pulled Truth Teller from his thigh and positioned himself beside the door. His bedroom door flew open and before whoever had entered could even register what was happening, Azriel had them against the wall, Truth Teller to their throat. “Az!” Elain squeaked. Why hadn’t his shadows told him she was approaching and not a threat? “Elain? What’s wrong?” He breathed, stepping away from her. “It’s Y/N! Koschei has her!” He sprang into action immediately, fighting down the panic that rose in him, the urge to find her as quickly as possible. “You can’t tell the others!” She rushed out, “There’s no time, we need to go now, me and you!” He stopped to survey her for a moment, and she seemed to scramble for the words. “If we show up with Rhys and Feyre, he might act irrationally and kill her on site, you and your shadows can go unseen, and I can see what’s happening!” Azriel surveyed Elain for a couple more seconds before nodding his agreement. He could handle this. He strode over to his armoire, threw open the doors and began selecting his weapons.  

“Do you have a plan?” Elain whispered, creeping along behind him. He stopped and pushed her towards a hidden alcove. “Yes.” He said, his words clipped. “You’re staying here.” He instructed and strode away. Pushing his way through the bushes he surveyed the clearing ahead of him. Empty. He growled to himself, he needed to find her. His shadows were restless, panicking but he didn’t have time to figure out why. “Koschei!” He bellowed into the clearing. “Koschei!” Something barrelled into him from the left, knocking him off of his feet, taking him by complete surprise. The scent hit him before his eyes could recognise who had him pinned and he dropped his hands from their defensive position. “Y/N?” He breathed, relief flooding through him for a brief moment. She was wild. Not a single shred of humanity behind her bruised eyes. Those beautiful eyes which until now still showed her as human, despite the fact she no longer was. Her fists raining down on him, still, he did not lift a hand to defend himself, not as that snap happened inside him and he realised just who was on top of him. His Mate.  

“You have to stop.” He said quietly, surely. “It’s me, its Az, I’m here to take you home.” He told her as her fists continued to rain down upon him. He took in the damage on her face, the damage he was sure that went further than he could see. “No! You will not hurt me again!” She hissed. “I never hurt you, Y/N.” He said quietly. His denial seemed to make her angrier. “Yes, you did! You think I betrayed you all, Cassian is dead! Nyx is gone, Rhys is powerless and wingless! It wasn’t me! You didn’t listen! You never listen! You just kept going!” Azriel had no clue what was happening, but he knew he needed his brothers, so he called for Rhys, despite Elain’s warning.  

“Get up and fight me, Shadowsinger!” She hissed, getting to her feet. “I’m not going to fight you, Y/N.” He told her, his voice even, getting to his feet. “Fight me, you coward!” She yelled, “Or do you not get the same pleasure from it when I'm not tied down and screaming?!” She asked, removing the daggers from her thighs. He didn’t move as she took aim and loosed the dagger in her right hand. A perfect shot, right into the siphon that sat on his chest, he felt the power leave him immediately. “Fight me!” She growled again taking aim a second time and loosing the dagger. It found a home in his shoulder this time.  

Power filled the clearing as Rhys and Cassian arrived. She shuddered under the weight of it. “Turn around, Y/N.” Azriel told her, not taking his eyes from hers. “Turn around and see that Rhys and Cassian are fine.” She took a quick look over her shoulder. “Lies! Tricks!” She snapped. “You’ve been lied to, yes, but not by me.” He told her as she advanced on him. “Y/N!” Cassian called for her, “I’m alive, I'm here, come and see for yourself.” He told her. Before any of them had the chance to react, Rhys was in front of her, wings unfurled, power crackling around the clearing. “Stop this!” He commanded and she fell to her knees under the weight of his power. Azriel was about to let out a relieved breath when fire erupted around her, surrounding her on all sides. “I told her to bring you and you alone, Shadowsinger.” A ancient voice spoke as if it was coming from all angles. The brothers spotted him almost immediately, Elain stood next to him. “You did this?!” Azriel spat at the middle sister, the older twin. “He’s going to give me my life back.” She mumbled. “What was the cost?” Rhys demanded and her glance towards Azriel was the answer. Him. Y/N began to scream then. “I’ll have to improvise now I suppose.” Koschei spoke, “But no matter, the fire will consume her and you’ll be mine, Singer.” He said.  

“Consume her?” Cassian whispered and Koschei let out a humourless laugh, “Oh yes, hel fire, nasty stuff, surrounds you and gets you from the inside out.” Fire, why did it have to be fire? Azriel took one look at his brothers, then looked to his Mate who was still screaming. “I love you, both of you.” He said, hoping the truth of the words shone in his eyes, Rhys clicked on before Cassian did, “Az, don’t-” Rhys didn’t get the chance to finish his words as Azriel took a deep breath and stepped into the fire, stumbling towards his Mate. She would not burn alone.  

All you knew was pain, searing burning pain. You were ready to close your eyes and give up when you saw an angel. He was made of the same fire that was burning you and he was walking towards you, calling your name. He was beautiful. “Have you come to take me?” You asked, the best you could, throat raw from screaming. “Yes love, I’ve come to take you home.” He answered. “Okay.” You agreed, lifting your arms to the angel in a silent plea to be carried. “Make it stop?” You asked him, “I will,” He said, “I’ll make it stop, I promise.” You curled your head into his neck. “My ice is gone, melted.” You said sadly. “I’ll fix it.” Was the last thing you heard him say before the darkness swept in again and you braced yourself to be back on that table in Hewn City.  

When you came to, you weren’t on the table as you expected, but in a plush bed. Nesta watching you carefully from a chair beside your bed. Cassian next to her, nearly in tears as you looked at him. “You aren’t dead? Really?” You choked out, “No, I’m not dead.” He said gently, offering you his wrist so you could feel his pulse and prove to yourself that he was really there. “You think the world would still be standing if he was dead?” Nesta asked, handing you a glass of water, “Try not to move too much, you’re still healing.” She added. “But Azriel said you were dead, that Rhys’s wings and power were gone...” You trailed off as the High Lord appeared before you, wings outstretched, power caressing your mind. “All lies, fed to you by Koschei.” He said. Feyre was next to you, placing Nyx down on the bed with you, “Gently.” She reminded her young son, who went to great lengths to carefully crawl into your lap. “Az never laid a hand on you.” Feyre told you. “He came after you after Elain told him you were gone.” You shook your head. “She lead him into a trap.” Rhys nodded, “We know, and she is confined to her rooms until we figure out the best thing to do with her.” You nodded, “Lucien.” You told them, “She might want to be human still but Koschei has a hold on her as well, maybe its something a Mate can break?” Rhys hummed his agreement, “He’s already on his way.”  

You sat with Nyx for hours, just holding onto the little boy like he was the only thing you could believe was real. Rhys and Feyre had gone to talk to Elain and trusted that Nesta and Cassian would let nothing happen to the little boy. Neither of them had brought up Azriel yet, so you did. “Where is he? Az?” You asked them and the pair shared a look. It was Cassian who eventually said. “He’s in his room, he was hurt.” You gasped, “Did I?!” Cassian shook his head, “You hit him with a couple of daggers but no, not you.” You passed Nyx to him, “What are you doing?!” Nesta demanded as you began to scramble out of your bed, “You’re going to hurt yourself!” You didn’t care, you had to see him. “I need to see him, Nes!” She looked into your eyes and seemed to understand the urgency in them so she nodded, “Let me help you then.” She said, supporting you out of the door and down the hall, “Why are we at the River House?” You asked on the way, “Easier for the healers.” Was all she said.  

Shadows were pouring out of the crack at the bottom of Azriel’s bedroom door as you approached but cleared as you walked towards it, you knocked once and entered, leaving Nesta at the door. Azriel was lying in his bed, covered in bandages, ointments across his bedside. “What happened?” You gasped and his head shot towards you, he winced as he did so. “Y/N! Are you okay?” He asked in a broken voice, “Are you?” You replied. “I’ll be fine.” Was all he said as you continued to take him in. “Az, your wings!” He nodded stiffly. “Fire and I really don’t mix, I guess.” He said, “Fire?” You asked, “Az you hate fire!” He met your eyes as you sat yourself in the chair next to his bed. “I do hate fire, that’s true, but you were in there and I wasn’t leaving you.” Your heart cracked at his words, his biggest fear and he had walked through it for you. “I was on fire? Why don’t I have any burns?” You asked quietly. “Three reasons,” He said, “One, your ice kept you safe, you told me it was gone and that it had melted, that was true, it protected you for as long as it could. Two, I shielded you with my wings. Three, I gave you my blood when we got back here.” A tear slid down your face. “You did that for me?” He nodded. “Why did your blood help?” You asked, “I think you know why.” He responded. “A Mates blood.” You murmured and he nodded again. “Why didn’t you take any of mine? To heal you?” He went quiet for a minuet and took a deep breath. “Feyre suggested it. Said you would be fine with it, but you were so convinced I had hurt you, tortured you, I wouldn’t allow it. I’ll heal well enough.” You shook your head. “Take it now! It wasn’t you, I know it wasn’t!” You stood and walked over to his desk. You picked up Truth Teller and walked back over, slicing your palm as you sat. “Drink Az, I know you’re in pain, I can feel it, everything else we can talk about later.” He hesitated before taking your palm and bringing it to his lips and drinking deeply. He used that same hand to pull you into the bed next to him, groaning as he did so. “We can talk about everything else when we wake up, rest now.” He said, tucking your head under his chin. “Okay.” You murmured, eyes growing heavy. “Az?” he hummed for you to continue. “Never walk through fire for me again.” You told him. “I’d walk through fire every day for the rest of my life for you.” He said quietly as you drifted off to sleep. 

[floof-poof]

Warmth

Eris x Reader

ERIS MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Eris helps comfort his brave mate getting taken down by her fae cycle

Cw: Period pain, Fluff, Eris being a warm blanket, the definition of self-indulgent cause I'm having horrible cramps and just more or less wrote my symptoms :')

A/N: Also double posting day, cause I have something queued for today and didn't want to shift it but still wanted to write this

You were having the worst cycle today, hand over your stomach as you lay curled up in the bed, you had told Eris, your mate, you simply weren't feeling well and wanted to rest, not wanting him to worry or disturb him from his High Lord duties.

You felt weak and helpless, hating it. You were Eris' general for Cauldron's sake, you weren't the one who showed pain even a little, but your fae cycle always hit you hard.

Laying in the covers, trying to warm yourself, you shut your side of the bond, not wanting him to feel your pain. Your body aches like a thousand tiny needles pricking at your skin, a dull throbbing pain pulsating through your lower abdomen. Each breath is a struggle, the room closing in around you as nausea rises up to threaten.

A migraine broke through your head, the aura making it hard to keep your eyes open in the light, so you had drawn the curtains, trying to keep as much light out as possible. A slow numbness in your cheeks and tongue made you nearly cry, you wanted to cry out when the numbness spread to your toes.

A shiver runs down your spine as the chill of your sweat-drenched skin sends a fresh wave of discomfort coursing through you. The cool air bites at your bare legs exposed by the nightgown that barely offers any comfort.

Your hands clutch at the sheets, knuckles white as they strain against the overwhelming agony consuming you. A lone tear trickles down your cheek, dampening the pillow beneath your head.

You wanted Eris, needed him, but at the same time, the last thing you wanted was to distract him from his work. So you kept to yourself.

You twist in the sheets, seeking a comfortable position to alleviate the ache in your lower back. The pain radiates outwards, each movement causing a fresh wave of agony to crash over you. The warm cup of tea you've managed to sip provides little relief, its warmth doing nothing to combat the icy chill that has settled into your bones.

The sharp tang of ginger root stings your nose as you take another cautious sip, its spicy flavour helping to settle your queasy stomach slightly. You place the cup on the bedside table, the cool wood offering a stark contrast to the burning heat of your flushed skin.

Each breath you draw is shallow, the effort required for even this basic function draining. The room spins around you, the once familiar walls now closing in, threatening to engulf you in their suffocating embrace. Not knowing you didn't stop your distress from going down the bond.

Eris, sensing your distress through the bond, strides purposefully towards your bedroom, leaving in the middle of a meeting. His brows furrowed in concern, he pushes open the door, the harsh fluorescent light from the hallway casting an unwelcome glare across your pained face as you cover your face from the blankets to hide from the light.

He crosses the room in three long strides, his movements fluid despite the urgency etched onto his face at the feeling of your pain on your mating bond. "Hey, what's wrong, sweetheart?" He whispered softly, pulling the covers away, and laying down beside you to pull you on top of him.

"Din't you have..." You barely spoke as Eris shushed you, wiping away your tears.

Eris stroked over the soft muscles of your abdomen with his warming hand, providing you comfort through your bond, "I doesn't matter, my lady needs me."

His touch brings instant relief, the soothing warmth seeping into your chilled skin. His fingers glide gently along your curves, tracing patterns that seem to ease the gnawing ache inside. Despite the turmoil within your body, his presence alone calms the storm raging inside you.

As you're pulled onto his lap, your aching chest pressed against his warm one, the soft fabric of your nightgown rubbing against his tunic. You sigh deeply, and your body relaxes ever so slightly under his tender caress, the tension slowly ebbing away.

"My beautiful, powerful mate... Wanting to deal with all her troubles on her own." His voice was a low rumble that vibrated through your entire being. Each word spoken is laced with love and concern, soothing your frayed nerves and calming your racing heart.

"Shhh," Eris whispers, his lips brushing against your temple, calming the pain growing there. "It's alright… I'm here." His voice is a steady, reassuring murmur that seems to echo through every fiber of your being.

His large hands cradle your face, tilting it upwards to meet his gaze, stroking your cheeks knowing the numbness was hurting you. His eyes are filled with a mix of concern and tenderness, reflecting the depth of his love for you. "Just let go, my love. Let everything else fade away."

Tears prick at your eyes again, but this time they're tears of relief rather than just pain. You lean into his touch, seeking solace in the strength of his arms wrapped protectively around you.

"I don't want you to suffer," Eris' voice was thick with emotion. "Let me help you." He got up from the bed, moving to the nightstand to open the drawers till he found some oils he kept there.

He soon returned, stroking your calf and going up your leg, massaging your legs in soothing circles, "I've got some oils love, can you lift your gown so that I can massage you?" He asked gently, raising your leg up to press kisses on each of your numbing toes, already starting to massage them with the oil.

At his gentle coaxing, you manage to muster a weak smile, grateful for his constant care and attention. With trembling hands, you lift the hem of your nightgown to reveal your abdomen. His fingertips trace delicate patterns on your skin, sending waves of pleasure that ripple through your body, momentarily pushing aside the pain.

Eris pours a generous amount of lavender oil into his palms as he uses his fire to warm his hands and the oil, before pressing them firmly against your abdomen, your muscles quivering under his hand. The scent fills the room, soothing and relaxing. His thumbs dig into tense muscles, working out knots with practised precision. His movements are firm and gentle, designed to provide maximum relief to your body.

"Does that feel better?" He asks, glancing up at you from under his lashes. The worry lines etched onto his forehead begin to smooth as he watches your reaction to his ministrations.

"Yes..." you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur, eyes closing as your body relaxes. "Don't stop… please."

His hands continue their slow, methodical exploration of your body, moving from your abdomen to your hips. The tension gradually fades from your muscles as he works out the tension, each stroke bringing you closer to a state of blissful relaxation.

His fingers delve deeper, kneading into sore spots that you didn't even realize were in pain. His touch is both tender and firm, leaving no part of your body untouched.

"You look so peaceful," Eris murmurs, his fingers continuing their rhythmic dance on your skin, going over your legs, and back to your abdomen, pushing your grown even more to massage your breasts that he knew were sore. His touch is gentle yet firm, each stroke sending waves of comfort rippling through your body. The pain that had been such a constant companion moments ago seems to have receded into the background, replaced by a sense of calm.

As you lay there, lost in the soothing sensations washing over you, Eris leans in to press a tender kiss to your forehead. His lips linger for a moment before he pulls back, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Rest now, sweetheart. I'll be right here."

He gently moved to lay between your legs, his tunic was gone, lying beside you both, and you didn't notice him removing it. As he laid on you, he heated up his body, his bare skin providing you heat way better than the mountains of blankets you had on you.

As Eris lay on your body, you can't help but notice the shift in temperature. His skin, warm like the fire in his blood, felt like a balm against your skin. The heat emanating from his body permeates your very core, chasing away the lingering chill.

His hands continue their massage to your sides, exploring the skin. Each touch sends jolts of electricity coursing through your veins, distracting you further from the pain that had previously consumed you. His fingers dance teasingly over the edge of your nightgown, promising more pleasurable sensations to come.

"We'll take a bath later, alright?" He cooed softly as you curled around him, pressing your face in his neck and he put the softest amount of his weight on you, as if to remind you he was there, "Rest up for now, my duties can wait till you're better."

You nod softly, already half asleep when he whispers, "And I've heard something else that helps with cramps... If you want me to warm you right at the source of your problem..."

{General Taglist- @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot

{Eris Taglist- @fxckmiup @slut4acotar @klytemnestra13 @secret-third-thing}

[floof-poof]

No Parade - Eris Vanserra

Did I write this for @thatlosernoonelikes and @thatlosernoonelikes only? Yes, yes I did. Surprise my beloved! I hope you enjoy it!

T/W: Angst, mentions of blood and torture.

W/C: 3.4k

The story was supposed to last, you were never supposed to be, just somebody in the past, somebody I used to see, trouble crept up on us, warning never came in time. 

“Run.” Eris’s word was final as he spoke. His eyes flicked toward his chamber door, an acknowledgement of the banging coming from the other side of it. “Y/N, please you need to run, they can’t find you here!” He hissed, dragging you towards the portrait that had hidden a secret passage for longer than either of you had been alive. “Lucien will be waiting for you.” He whispered urgently. Still, you resisted. “Not without you.” You spoke quietly, “He’ll kill you for this, Eris.” Tears welled in your eyes at the words. “I’ll face it with you.” You whimpered as the door began to splinter. Eris’s face shuttered at your words, emotions flickering over it as he registered that you would stay and face whatever this was with him. Death or worse. 

 “No, my love, you need to go on, promise me you’ll go on, no matter what happens?” You shook your head, “I can’t.” He was pushing you towards the tunnel now. “You can.” He insisted, “You’re so strong, so brave and I need you to be that for me now.” You were still shaking your head as he placed a gentle kiss on your lips, “There is no life without you,” you told him, “If you die, I will follow you into the mothers embrace.” He braced the side of the portrait, to close the entrance, “No, you won’t.” He all but whispered, “Promise me?” You didn’t want too, you really didn’t but something in his face told you that he needed this, he needed to know you would go on without him as he was about to face whatever was waiting for him.  

You placed your hand over his, to stop him from closing the door, “I promise.” You whispered back, tears falling freely now. He kissed you one last time as the burning of a bargain tattoo faded in the centre of your chest. The door splintered open then, and Eris threw himself into the middle of the room and raised the sword he had in his left hand. You watched it all unfold through the crack between the portrait and the wall. “None of that now.” His father hissed as he sauntered in, surrounded by his own men. Coward. 

 High Lord or not, his son was stronger than him and he knew it. Fire raced towards Eris, so hot it burned white, you could feel the heat from your hiding space. He tried, you could see that he tried to stay on his feet, to fight the pain he was so accustomed to but it was in vain as the blade you hadn’t seen sunk into the space between his ribs and twisted. You would’ve screamed if not for Lucien appearing behind you, wrapping his hand over your mouth, and pulling you down the tunnel. As Eris hit the floor, he looked towards the portrait and smiled, smiled at you, at his brother pulling you away. “I’ll find you, always.” He mouthed. There was nothing left of you or your heart as Luicen winnowed and you went limp in his arms. “The Night Court.” You told him, “I don’t think that is a good idea-” Lucien tried and you started to thrash in his arms. “Take me to my brother, now!” He sighed and did as you had demanded. Your brother was waiting for you, he knew you would come. With tears still pouring down your face, you pulled yourself out of Lucien’s arms. “You betrayed him!” You roared, “You sold him out! Why?” Your brother said nothing, and you threw yourself towards him, only to be caught around the waist by one of his friends. “Calm down, please calm down.” His friend spoke gently. “Why, Rhysand? Why?!”  

Screaming, screaming was what woke you. It took you a few seconds and Cassian almost ripping your door off its hinges for you to realise it was you that was screaming. You took in Nesta, wrapped in her silk robe standing in the doorway as Cassian scooped you into his arms and sat down where you had just been laying. “Sorry,” you croaked at her, your throat raw from screaming. She gave you a small smile as Cassian wordlessly handed you a glass of water from your bedside, “It’s okay, don’t even worry about it, I know what it’s like when the nightmares grip you like that.” Of course she did you thought, you had been there when she was thrown into the cauldron. You had chosen to live with Cassian and Nesta after Rhys has betrayed you, betrayed Eris. That had been so long ago now, and you still had not spoken to your brother, you couldn’t forgive him, couldn’t forgive Feyre who was the mastermind of the whole thing, after more of their lies had caught up with them. 

“That night again?” Cassian asked quietly and you nodded at him, watching the shadows gather in the corner of your room, counting the seconds until they materialised into the only other Illyrian you could tolerate. The two of them always knew when you needed them, you didn’t want to think about how Rhys probably had something to do with that. “He’s not dead?” You croaked as Azriel appeared and took the space next to you and Cassian. Azriel shook his head, “No, he's not dead.” Azriel had gone against your brother. Something he was still paying for, he was not sorry he told you as he defied his orders and sent shadows out to find Eris, to confirm if he was dead. His shadows, however, would not reveal where he was, just that he was breathing and nothing else. Cassian had decided that was because wherever he was, was not somewhere another person should wander. Nesta perched next to you and Cassian on the edge of the bed, “If he was dead, you’d know, this would burn and fade.” She said, gently placing her hand on the Star and Flame bargain tattoo on your chest. You nodded at her gratefully. "I'm sorry I woke you both, I’m okay.” Nesta squeezed your hand and Cassian kissed the top of your head before unceremoniously dropping you into Azriel’s lap. “It’s never a problem, Y/N.” He said, following his wife out the door. “You don’t have to stay with me, Az,” You yawned and despite what you had told him, you curled further into his chest. He wrapped both his arms and his wings around you, “I know, but I always will.” He said, “You know, while you’re on a hot streak of defying Rhys, you should date Elain if that’s what you both want. He needs to learn he can’t control all aspects of everyone's lives.” Azriel huffed a laugh, “Who said I wasn’t?” You gasped quietly, “That’s who you smell like!” Azriel just smirked, “Go to sleep, we’ve got a long day of playing happy families tomorrow.”  

The sunrose before you were ready for it. Apparently you hand’t moved, still lying on Azriel who was snoring softly. You nudged him gently, “Az, Az you need to wake up.” He groaned softly, “We need to get up and get ready for this stupid High Lord’s meeting.” He groaned again, “Gotta face my stupid brother.” You said sitting up. “Want the wraits help getting ready?” He asked, stretching as he sat up, you smiled at him, “Please?” He nodded, and a shadow darted away. You could totally understand why Elain was head over heels for your friend, even if you did ache for Lucien, however, he seemed to be happier than ever when he was with Vassa. Azriel stood, ran his hands through his hair and made his way towards the balcony doors, “Az?” he stopped and turned to look at you, “Thank you, for everything.” You told him, he smiled, “Anytime, kid.”  

The wraiths had spent hours getting you ready. A true princess of night as you arrvied at the Hewn City. Nesta and Elain were the first to notice you, fawing over how beautiful you looked. Both falling silent as a presence appeared behind you. “Sister, you look radiant. Rhysand. As usual, you ignored him and moved to walk away. He grabbed your arm and span you towards him. “How long are you going to keep this up? This moping over Vanserra, it has been nearly a decade.” He asked. You went to open your mouth, to ask him how long he would need to mope over Feyre but the doors behind him open and your back went ridgid as Eris Vanserra strolled in. Rhys span, sensing your tension, ensuring you were behind him. Azriel and Cassian were at your back in an instant. “Rhysand.” He purred as he approached, “Eris.” Your brother purred back, you went to move around Rhys, to throw yourself at him but Azriel stopped you, “Something is wrong,” he murmured to you, “He smells wrong, even my shadows don’t want to approach him.” Eris did not say more as he strode into the meeting room, he didn’t even look at you as he brushed passed you. “What have you done?!” You hissed at Rhysand, your first words to him in 10 years. “I-I don’t know.” Was all he said.  

None of the High Lords knew quite what to make of Eris’ reappearance. None of them had laid eyes on him in 10 years. And yet, there he sat, even more of a swaggering asshole than he pretended to be before. No, this was no act anymore. Something fundamental had changed within him and not even Helion couldn't detect what had happened. “Witchcraft.” Was all the High Lord of Day had muttered. You stared at him the entire meeting. Unapologetically stared at him. “Well, is no one going to welcome back my son? He’s been travelling for the last 10 years.” Beron crooned and your spine straightened as you recalled that night, the gleam in his eye as he came for his son. You stared at him the entire meeting. Unapologetically stared at him. Eris smirked at you, “Like what you see, pretty girl?” he asked in a voice that did not belong to him, it was old, it was ancient, and it made your stomach churn. Rhys bared his teeth but it was Cassian who said, “You don’t talk to her, you don’t look at her, you don’t even think about her.” Eris laughed and the sound washed over you. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Your blood was screaming at you. “And what are you going to do about it?” Eris asked. You placed a hand on Cassian’s arm. “It’s fine Cass, ignore him.” You said quietly. Eris laughed again, “I tell you what, Illyrian, I won’t think about her, if she stops thinking about me.” Rhys’ hands hit the table, “Enough!” He snapped. All colour had drained from your face as Nesta lead you out of the room. “We don’t need to stay for the meeting.” She said, you shook your head, “Go back Nes, most of them are more scared of Lady Death than my brother.” She snorted a laugh, “I won’t get in any trouble, I promise.” She nodded and left you stood in the hallway.  

You had taken to wandering up and down the hallways aimlessly, failing at not thinking about Eris. How could someones voice be the exact same but so so different? How could spellwork even terrify Helion? Beron wasn’t that strong, and he certainly wasn’t talented enough in magic to pull off whatever had been done to Eris. You gasped as someone grabbed your elbow, placed a hand over your mouth and pulled you into a hidden alcove. Chest heaving, you opened your eyes and took in who stood before you. Eris. “Still thinking about me, I see.” He purred in your ear. You shoved him away, “You’re not Eris.” You hissed, “Oh? Then who I am I darling?” He smirked, you studied his eyes, there was nothing of Eris in them, no wildfire, no simmering rage, no softness that he kept hidden, just emptiness. “I don’t know but I will find out and you will give him back.” You said through gritted teeth, and he laughed again, as if you had told the funniest joke in the world. "What happened to you? What did your father do to you?” You asked quietly, Eris scoffed, “Made me better.” Every word he said sent chills up your spine, this was no longer the male you were safest with. You looked him up and down and your breath caught, his bargain tattoo, it was gone. Before you could even consider what that meant he leant into you, his lips by your ear, “I’ll see you soon, Princess, keep thinking about me.” With that he turned and left, and you ran for Rhys.  

“You’re sure about this?” Rhysand asked you later that afternoon, sitting in his office as you recounted what had happened in the alcove to him, Cassian and Azriel. “Yes, Rhysand, I’m sure.” You snapped. “The tattoo is gone, there’s no reason for it to be gone, he’s still alive somewhere but that isn’t him. If he were dead, I wouldn’t still have mine and theres no reason for his to be gone.” Rhys sighed, “Okay,” You interrupted whatever he was going to say, “This is your fault Rhysand, you sold him out, whatever he has been through the last 10 years, is entirely on you and Feyre and the lies you tell. Fix it.” You said hands on your hips. “I understand that you are angry and that seeing him today couldn’t have been easy, but you need to think about what you're asking, this could start a war.” You scoffed, “There was enough violence over Feyre. You will do this for me Rhys, you will make this right or you will lose me forever.” Cassian cringed as you crossed your arms over your chest. Rhys sighed again, looked at Azriel and nodded. Azriel strode to the balcony doors and took off without a word. You shot a panicked look at Cass, “Let him deal with it for now. "Cassian said, offering you his hand, let’s go and find Nesta and have some tea?” You nodded, stepping towards him, “Actually, I’d like to talk to my sister.” Rhys drawled. “Fine.” You said sitting back down.  

“We need to put this silly feud behind us.” He said, crossing one leg across the other and you scoffed, “Silly feud?! Rhysand, you handed over the man I loved to his barbaric father who had done nothing to abuse him since he was young to cover up another of Feyre’s lies.” Rhys’s face softened for just a second, “You are right, I did do that, but there will be other Males, you only have one brother.” You sighed, “I know that Rhysand, but I can’t explain how much I love him, because I can’t talk to you about him, you have such a preconceived idea of him, of what happened to Mor, but she has never told the truth about that day.” Rhys rolled his eyes, “We know exactly what happened that day!” “No, you don’t! There was so much more than him not helping her that day! Which by the way, had he done so, by Autumn Law, she would have been his, his property, his to own. Why do you think he was working so hard to get rid of his father? He’s done more in secret for the women of Autumn than you have ever done for the Illyrian females!” With that, you span on your heel and left.  

It was a week before you heard from Azriel. You were woken to the middle of the night to him shaking you, to Cassian sat on the edge of your bed, Rhysand stood at the foot of it. You could smell the blood on Azriel but to you, there was always two Azriel’s, the one who let you curl up on his lap like a cat and soothed your nightmares, and the other one, the one you barely saw, the one who sunk so far into an icy killing rage that no one could reach him until he’d achieved his goal. “We’ve found him.” Rhysand said and that was all you needed to be out of bed, pulling on clothes. “Absolutely not!” Cassian said and you whirled on him, “I’m coming with you!” Rhys just nodded at Cassian, to tell his brother that you’d be coming with them. “Your leathers, Y/N, it's going to be a fight.”  

Eris didn’t know who he was anymore, he remembered that night, but he couldn’t remember how long ago it was. Days? Months? Years? Decades? Centuries? They’d taken him apart so many times and put him back together again, pieces of him missing each time and then that thing had appeared in front of him. Or he had appeared in front of himself? He wasn't sure. He’d spent so long hanging in this chamber suspended by his arms he was sure he had lost his mind. He hated them, hated them all. He'd spent the beginning of this ordeal fighting, when he had given that up, he had reopened the scar from where his father had stabbed him and let it fester. He was so close to death when they had figured it out and healed it. He'd been hanging by his arms whenever he was in here ever since. 

He cracked one eye open at the sound of chaos and screaming. Then closed it again, he didn’t care anymore, he just hoped he would die in whatever was going on. Footsteps came towards him and he cracked an eye open again and there she was. His beloved, covered in blood, wearing Illyrian leathers, fighting knives in each of her hands. An avenging angel. A Princess of Nightmares indeed. She dropped the knives when she spotted him and breathed out his name, “Eris!” he forced open his other eye. “Hello my love.” He croaked. The first time he had used his voice in God knows how long. “I’m broken.” He said and her face softened, “I’m not the Male I was.” She smiled gently, “I’ll help you.” She said quietly, then his vision faded and Eris lost consciousness to the sound of her screaming.  

When he woke again, he was in a big open room, he could see the mountains, feel the breeze. “Hi.” He looked to the side and saw her sat next to his bed, he went to move his arm and they were restrained, and panic surged through him, the fire in his veins began to spark and come back after being gone for so long. “You’re okay, you’re okay!” She rushed out, “We just need to make sure you have control of yourself.” He tried hard to calm himself, but power was rushing at him faster than he could deal with. More power than he’d ever had before. “My father, he will know I’m gone.” He croaked. “Your father, and his little puppet are dead, I couldn’t just sit here and wait for you to wake up, not after Azriel pulled the truth of what they had done to you over the last decade out of the head guard where they were holding you.” He blinked twice, “My father, my father is dead? She nodded, “Yes, High Lord, he’s dead.” That explained the power then. “But I can’t be High Lord, I’m not stable anymore.” She shook her head. “Lucien is holding the fort until such time as you are healed, whether it be in 100 years or 500 years, but don’t worry about that now, all you need to do is heal.” He nodded slowly. “We’re in Velaris right now, Rhysand has had the best healers from here and the Day Court healing you, but when you are strong enough to travel, we can go wherever you want.” Eris cleared his throat, “I just want to be wherever you are but it's going to be hard, I see it all again when I close my eyes.” She wrapped her hand around his, “I feel it all again when I sleep.” She kissed the side of his head, “I’ll be here, every step of the way.”  

[floof-poof]

Would you be able to write one with reader defending George to her friends and soft boi overhears and practically melts. If you would be so kind.

Low-key got excited that you did you might start writing for Fred as well as I'm a slut for both twins :) (Most definitely George thou but Fred kinda close second 😉)

I love this! Thank you for requesting it, anon. I hope you enjoy it!

Wonderful You

Warnings: cursing, depression

~•~

There are some days that just lay on you like a stone. Today was one of those days for George. Nothing in particular caused it. It was just something that happened to him from time to time, and he didn't know why.

George pushed the covers off, already exhausted. It was as if his body was made of lead. He could barely lift his head from the pillow, and it ached, no... hurt, to pull himself out of bed. To get dressed. To put one foot in front of the other. But it would hurt more without you by his side. So, he did all of it and made his way downstairs.

It was Thursday, which meant you were already up for your volunteer shift at the library. He'd get there just in time for your shift to end. Then you could go cuddle for hours on end, as the two of you always did when he was having one of his black days.

~•~

He could hear voices outside the library before he rounded the corner.

"I just don't understand what you see in him," one said. "I mean, he's cute, I'll give you that. But he's such an annoying prat."

It didn't occur to George that they were talking about him until he heard his girlfriend's voice.

"Well, it's a good thing he's my boyfriend and not yours," Y/N snapped.

"Look, Y/N were not trying upset you," said another voice. "We just think you could, you know, do so much better."

George peeked around the corner to see Y/N standing with her arms crossed, facing two of her Ravenclaw friends, Abby and Lydia.

"Excuse me," Y/N retorted. "But, you don't know a damn thing about him or our relationship."

"I know enough to know the only thing he cares about are his precious pranks and ridiculous inventions. He'll never amount to anything. Even his own mother knows that." Lydia said.

George slunk back into the shadows, sinking down on the nearby bench, head in his hands. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it refused to budge. What if Lydia was right? What if his mum was right? What if he was nothing more than a series of disappointments?

What if?

What if?

What if?

What if he didn't deserve someone as wonderful as Y/N? What if he'd only bring her down?

He was seconds away from shuffling back upstairs and burying himself in bed when Y/N's voice stopped him in his tracks. George turned and peeked around the corner again.

"As I said," Y/N's voice was steady, but there was an edge to it that hinted at the rage seething just beneath her skin. "You don't know a damn thing about him. You only see what you want to see. So, until you get off your high horse and make an effort to get to know the most amazing, sweet, brilliant human being to ever come into my life, I suggest you shut the fuck up."

Abby snorted. "I'm sorry Y/N but, brilliant? Brilliant? Really? He can barely be bothered to do his schoolwork. I shudder to think of his grades."

George watched in awe as his barely five foot girlfriend rounded on the very tall, wide-eyed Abby and backed her against the wall.

"You should have stopped at 'I'm sorry,' she said. "But, that's ok, because now I know who you really are. An arrogant, elitist snob. George is more intelligent than ten of you. He actually knows how to use his brain instead of just parroting back facts."

"But..." Abby started.

"Nope." Y/N cut her off. "I don't want to hear anything else you have to say. You've lost the privilege to talk to me."

Abby looked like she might cry. Y/N didn't care. She whirled around and ran smack into Lydia.

"The same goes for you." Y/N tried to go around the girl, but Lydia stepped in front of her.

"Please, Y/N, don't be like this," she pled. "I know we came off a bit gruff, but it's only because we care. We don't want to see you--" Lydia's words trailed off.

"What?" Y/N asked, stepping closer. "You don't want to see me what?"

"Well, it's just, you have so much potential and we just don't want to see it wasted on a--"

"A Weasley? Is that what you're saying?" Y/N was now almost nose to nose with Lydia, who stumbled, trying to back away from the irate witch.

"Let me tell you something, both of you," Y/N began. "I'm am the luckiest girl in the world because George Weasley loves me. And I'm doubly lucky because his family loves me too. And I ever catch wind of either of you saying one word against George or his family again, I will hex you with so many spells it'll take decades to untangle them all."

Y/N bent down to pick up her cloak, which had slipped off her shoulders and onto the floor. "Stay away from me," she warned her ex-friends. "And away from George." Then she turned and stomped away.

~•~

Y/N was so furious that she didn't even notice George when she rounded the corner. A yelp escaped her lips before she realized it was her boyfriend who'd grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug.

"Oh hi, sweetie!" Y/N gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I love you so much, Y/N," he mummered into her ear. "How are you even real? How are you even mine?"

Y/N heard the tremor in his voice and pushed back a little so she could see his face. "Georgie, have you been crying?" The question was rhetorical, of course, because his bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes gave him away.

"Uh, maybe a little."

A little, my ass. "Did you hear any of that conversation?"

George nodded, releasing his hold on her to wipe his eyes.

Dammit. "Now, you listen to me, George. Don't you dare believe one word they said. They're stuck-up idiots who don't deserve a second thought. Ok?"

George nodded again. "Will you marry me?" The question came completely out of the blue. "I know we're only seventeen, and we still have to finish school, and I don't have ring, and--"

Y/N silenced him with a kiss. "Yes," she said, eyes sparkling even in the dim light. "A thousand times, yes! But let's graduate first, ok," she added with a smile.

George nodded and gathered her up into another bear hug. "I love you, and I promise I'll take care of you and never disappoint--"

"Georgie, sweetheart," she gently interrupted. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"No," he whispered. "But I will be."

Y/N looked at him, really looked at him, and it hit her.

"Oh lovey," she said. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I am--I was," he stammered. "I came down to find you, but I heard those things being said about me, and it hurt. I started to think that maybe they were true and I almost left. But, then you said all those wonderful things, and you made me feel like the most special person in the world."

Y/N smiled up at him. "That's because you are the most special person in the world. And, to me, you always will be."

A smile spread across George's face for the first time since he woke up. "Just when I think I can't love you anymore than I already do." He leaned down and kissed her gently, their foreheads resting together even after they pulled away.

"Now, how about we grab some breakfast and go find a quiet place to snuggle the day away?" Y/N asked.

"Yes, please." George smiled sheepishly. "As long as you don't have anything more important to do."

"There is nothing and no one more important than you, my sweet Georgie."

[floof-poof]

It Wasn't Supposed To Happen Like This Part 6

Eris x Rhy's Sister! Reader

Summary: Eris used to be attached at the hip to Rhysand’s younger sister. Now that he has taken over as High Lord of the Autumn Court, his father’s old high table have been pressuring him to take a wife, he comes up with the brilliant lie that he's already courting someone and has been for several years now. Eris asks Rhysand’s little sister, the best way to get away with it and make it believable, to fake court her.

Warnings: Elain and Mor slander, cussing 18+, some nsfw lean but no sex scenes yet, alcohol, parental abuse, death, murder, arguing. Not proofread.

Trope/Prompt: Fake Dating

Word Count: 4,644

Notes: Let the ball begin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks later I awoke to a soft knock on my bedroom door. I had been sleeping soundly with the small hound curled into my side, however the small knock was enough to wake her up. I had named her Brandy like the drink my mate was so fond of, she stretched and licked my face to wake me further just as the door squeaked open. Lucien laughed as I groaned and picked Brandy up off of me.

Wait…

Lucien?

Lucien!

Lucien had been out in Autumn Court helping Eris with preparations for the festival for about a week and a half now. His return was a surprise to me and I shot up from the comfy spot I had created.

“Lucien! What the fuck? When did you get back? You arse! You could have told me you’d be back today, I would have had breakfast made!” I growled at him, had he not had Brandy tucked into his arms I would have chucked a pillow at his face.

He laughed back at me and smiled brightly, his hair pulled up in a messy bun and dressed in  a cream colored sweater, some comfy loose flowy  pants that poofed around his knees from his riding boots, a small tabard for the dagger i had gifted him the first birthday he had that I had seen him since he had escaped to the Spring court. He smiled brightly and looked around my room where gift bag upon gift bag was piled up. 

“We finished preparations a day earlier so Eris sent me back here to make sure everything was good and you were ready for tomorrow, He just got his suit last week and didn't need to get it altered by the way. I see he got a bit carried away with his little gifts.” He scratched brandy behind her floppy little ears and let out a small chuckle as she whined whenever he stopped.

“Honestly these are all from throughout the week you've been gone. I just haven't had a chance to go through all of them yet. I mean do we have anything to do today? You could help me, Luc!” I tilted my head at him and he sat Brandy on the floor.

“Well then let's get to it we have a lot to go through, I’ll go get us some coffee and some breakfast sweets from that bakery you like down the road, while you get dressed and ready for the day.” He dismissed himself from the room and I could hear the click of his boots on the floor as he made his way back to the front of the house. 

“Hey Luc? Can you take Brandy on her morning walk since you're going out?” I yelled down after him and Brandy barked excitedly. 

“Yep! I got you sister!” He whistled for Brandy who raced out of the room after the ginger male. 

I heard the jingle of him clipping her leash followed by the click of the door shut. I forced myself out of bed and into the bathroom to freshen up for the lazy day, I moved my hair from my face and slipped into my closet. Once I had changed into some comfy clothes I sat criss-cross on the floor and began  digging into one of the bags, the dress I would be wearing tomorrow was neatly hung on my closet door and was a looming reminder of what tomorrow could mean for me and Eris. Lucien returned just as I was beginning to sink into my own thoughts, Brandy was the first to greet me as she climbed her way into my lap.  Lucien sat our two cups of coffee on my vanity table and joined me criss-cross on the floor.

The three of us went through bag after bag of gifts, Brandy helping the best she could by being our clean-up team: Her job? To tear up every loose scrap of tissue or wrapping paper that didn't stay in the distinct pile me and Lucien had created. The gifts were unpredictable, the variety too large to guess, still Lucien and I tried our best. So far it had ranged everything from a bottle of wine and nice glasses to drink from and small pieces of jewelry to toys for Brandy, decor pieces to make the small apartment more obviously themed like the Autumn Court, and some very obviously expensive pieces like the last bag I had just opened. Wrapped in shimmery copper paper and tied with a dark green bow, the box was light and Lucien hummed loudly.

“What do you think it is?” He chirped

“Hmmmm, my guess is going to be something for the dance tomorrow, it's the newest present that just came in yesterday.” I hummed back in response.

Pulling the large bow, it untied itself effortlessly, I removed the lid. Just as quickly as I had peaked inside I slammed the lid closed. Lucien looked up at me startled.

“What is it?” He leaned forward trying to grab the box from me to peek inside himself. I swatted his hand and hissed.

He pulled his hand back with a faux-shocked look on his face as he gaped at me. I opened the box again and stared at the jewelry within it. Lucien stared at me expectantly and I tossed the lid into the trash pile, Brandy growling at it as it almost fell out.

“No… he didnt.”Lucien gasped and covered his mouth, the metal eye whirring as his eyes widened.

My eyes darted between the box and Lucien.

“Oh you have him hooked. Seriously hooked.” Lucien mumbled and grabbed a sip from his coffee. 

“What do you mean Lucien?” I hissed.

“That, sister, is from the vaults of the autumn court. I saw it earlier this week when I went down there with Eris looking for a piece of art he wanted hung up in the main hall for the dance.”

He murmured as he took another sip to be dramatic.

“Oh.”I mumbled, stunned.

“Oh is right, he's wrapped around your finger hun.” Brandy deposited one of her new toys in his lap and he threw it out in the hall for her.

In the box, nestled on a silky pillow the same color as the bow, was a gold diadem decorated in branches and leaves with a ruby in the center of the point that came between your brows and it somehow matched the cuffs and necklace he had bought me earlier. Beside it was a folded note, written in the familiar cursive scrawl I knew as Eris.

“All preparations have been completed for the festival, Lucien has been a major help in setting everything up while I've been in meeting after meeting. I’m sure you are able to recognize this piece is older, I spied it while in the vaults with Lucien, while I admit it was not my intention at the time to be in the vaults for this piece and I was in fact there for an ancient painting that has been passed down in my family. After I had left the vaults the piece you hold now refused to leave my mind, I imagined how well it would match the cuffs and necklace you will be wearing with your dress for the festival in two days time, I would be honored if you wore this with those accessories as well. It would send a message to all my advisors and those I wish to see replaced, I know it seems a lot and it will take everyone by surprise to see you wear a crown from autumn but my mother had it crafted as a gift for whatever female I decided I was going to court, so it will see its use in you. I will be forced to wear my own similar crown due to my duties as High Lord, so it will make us match even more and present a further unified front to the people of my court who doubt me and pressure me into taking a wife. I thank you in advance my dear. Love, Eris.” I read aloud.

Lucien stared back at me with wide eyes as he prompted my response.

I didn't give one, simply picked up the diadem and rose to my feet. I stood in front of the mirror on my vanity and placed the small gold band on my head, then looked at Lucien with tears in my eyes. He smiled sadly.

“You’ll look like a High Lady tomorrow. Mother save him, Eris will have you decorated and on display more than Rhys does with Feyre.” He huffed with the slightest smile.

I took the crown off and gently sat it on my vanity next to the other jewelry I would be dressed in tomorrow. “Honestly Luc… I think I’m okay with that. I mean it will get suspicion off of Eris, and show him the lengths I'm willing to go for him. Fuck, maybe it will even cause the bond to snap for him, a girl can hope right? If it doesn't go well then I still get to have my fun and imagine what it would be like, right Luc?” I mused at him, sadly at first but then excitedly as I processed the information myself.

He simply smirked at me. “Sure thing, Sister. All I’m saying is, I called it~”

We spent the rest of the evening in the living room burning the tissue paper in the fireplace, eventually Lucien stood and announced he was going to start making dinner. Our night stayed uneventful as we both took our places either side of the table to eat, Lucien eventually herding me to his room to show me the outfit he would be wearing and to show me the trinkets he had brought back himself. Brandy eventually stumbled into the room tripping on her own ears with a big yawn, I collected her from the floor and she whined softly, eagerly awaiting bed.

Lucien chuckled as I dismissed both Brandy and myself from the room, he wished us both a goodnight and closed the door behind us. I had installed steps for Brandy, courtesy of Lucien, so she could climb up and down from my bed as she wished; however due to her size and tendency to trip on her own ears from time to time, often enough I just picked her up to help her up and down. I had sat her in a faux-fur blanket and she began immediately curling into a ball. I couldn't blame her, tomorrow was going to be a long day and she would be joining me; Eris had gifted her an elegant collar that had been lined with fur padding, a deep wine red collar that had small maple leaves embroidered into it, and a little copper maple leaf tag hung from it. I changed into a night slip and joined her in the warm covers, the second I laid down she curled into my side and I dismissed the faelights. 

I awoke earlier than I normally did, the dark of the sky just beginning to dim, to find Lucien finishing up his hair in the mirror and he offered to take Brandy out for her morning walk while I got ready myself. Passing him the sleepy pup, he gave me a soft smile and disappeared down the dim hallway, only lit up by one small faelight we used to make sure we didn't trip on any of Brandy’s toys when it was dark inside the house. I  slipped into the bathroom around him and leaned down to draw a bath, only to find the bath freshly drawn and warmed to the perfect temperature. Lucien and I had this habit, since we knew the others daily routine so well, from small things like fresh cups of coffee prepared to the perfect temperature with all the fixings in it we had wanted to things such as this, all in favor of making the others day easier for them; it had come to us naturally being roommates for awhile now and even before that when he was small, we would exchange small trinkets like something he found in the gardens and I would bring him a treat from Night Court the next time I saw him. 

Lucien returned about half an hour later, a few minutes after I had decided to finally leave the warmth of the bath, now feeling clean and fresh enough to look like the soon-to-be high lady Eris was wanting me to play. I wrapped a fluffy towel around me  and slid into my room, slipping on my undergarments and finally stepping into the A-line skirt I had fallen in love with weeks ago. 

Lucien knocked softly at the door. “Will you need any help with fastening the dress closed Sister?” 

Lucien’s new nickname for me rarely caught me off guard anymore unless he was using it to tease me for what he claimed was Eris’s obvious affections.

“Yes please, actually I could use it now.” I chirpped over my shoulder.

The door clicked open and Lucien stepped in quietly and began fiddling with the clasps on the back. “You know all the high lords will be there tonight right? It's the first holiday or festival hosted in the court since Eris became High Lord. All eyes will be on you two.”

I could hear his genuine worry for me in his voice. “I know Luc, I’ll be okay, Eris will be okay. We’ve got this handled.” I smiled over my shoulder at him and he offered me a unsure smile back,

“I know,” he sighed “I just worry about you two, you two are some of the only family I have, save for Jurian and Vassa.”

I raised my brow at him, he hadn’t mentioned any dealings with the two recently, though I knew the affections he harbored for the two when they comforted after Tamlin sent all of his stuff to the manor south of the Spring Court. 

“Will they be there today or tonight as well?” I offered him the ability to further discuss them.

“They should be, during the day at least. That's why we expanded the festival partially, so Vassa could also enjoy it while it also making a statement about Eris’s dedication to the court.” he seemed to brighten up a bit as he got distracted talking about the two.

He sat on the bed and Brandy scrambled to try and climb up the stairs, but when she failed and tripped over her ears Lucien ultimately ended up moving her into his lap. He continued to ramble about some need to know stuff that was seen as customary in the Autumn Court, amongst other subjects, I slipped on the golden cuffs, clasped the necklace around my neck and straightened it out, followed by the ring Eris had gifted me. I slipped on some surprisingly comfortable yet stylish black pumps that had gold detailing on the heels. I grabbed the collar from my vanity and turned to where Lucien was holding Brandy, he unclasped her old collar with a loud gasp and she leapt from his lap, bounding across my bed we both laughed at her antics until she finally calmed and I was able to slip the new one on around her neck.

Lucien stood and ushered me into the vanity chair, he refused to let me do my own hair for events if he had any say in it. He lost himself in styling it before finally setting the golden diadem on my head with a nod, he picked up the container of kohl I had and began lining my eyes with it. Once he had finished, we clipped Brandy into her leash and I picked her up in my arms, she seemed so proud of her new collar. We slipped from our apartment and the wards of the locks clicked into place behind us, he helped me down the stairs slowly making sure none of the tulle or silk got caught.  Once we were on the sidewalk I realized the many citizens of Velaris that were out walking around, the sun now early in the sky still well before noon, had their eyes on me and were whispering back and forth with each other with eager smiles on their faces. I knew what they were thinking, Lucien had graciously pointed it out to me yesterday, Oh how I was going to enjoy the look on Rhys’s face when he saw me tucked into Eris’s side; Azriel would probably be told to take a breather by Rhys unless they brought Elain, she might be able to keep him calm. 

Lucien tucked me and Brandy into his side, though I could have winnowed us myself Lucien was adamant about me preserving my energy as I ‘have a long day ahead’. Much Like Eris’s winnowing Lucien’s was warm like the caress of heat you would get from sitting beside a bon-fire, but it was unique in itself as it felt like it glittered or shined, that instead of bending the world around him the light and sun rays bent to his whim. Before I could even blink we had appeared in the Autumn Court, the smell of spices and cider filled the air and filled me with a warm familiarity that made my chest ache for Eris. It was only after I stepped out of Lucien’s side that I realized where we stood, the small clearing where me and Eris had once called our sanctuary had been turned into a private garden, a large hedge lined the outer edge of the clearing and led towards the forest house a short distance away. 

Only then as I looked around did I realize Eris had the entire clearing decorated in soft fae lights, a sculpted bench sat in the place the old wooden log had, the sir had a soft chill to it and reminded me why I loved this place as much as I did. Lucien stiffened beside me as I sat Brandy on the forest floor, leash clipped neatly to the padded collar, she barked happily in the way of the opening in the hedge that led towards the house. 

When my attention drifted towards the gorgeously carved archway, there stood Eris wide-eyed in a suit that matched my dress: primarily black, with the same flame effect of my underskirt on his waist coat. I swallowed sharply and smiled at him, my chest pounded and the bond throbbed with how perfect he looked, with how obvious it would be to all others he was mine.

He gathered his composure and stepped forward, hugging Lucien who dismissed himself through the way Eris had just come, then turned to me and brought my hand to his lips and he bowed softly. 

“Cauldron save me, you look gorgeous, just the image I wished to present to my court. Thank you for doing this my lady.” 

I smiled softly, feeling heat begin to creep into my face and a throb in my chest. “Mother above Eris, you call me gorgeous yet have you looked in a mirror? You are the epitome of a High Lord!”

He smiled back at me softly, pulling me into a tight hug he sighed softly. “No I mean it Darling, Thank You, tonight would have been so much harder without you beside me. At least now I’ll avoid having to deal with my father’s advisors barking at me to keep my eyes peeled for a pretty female.”

I leaned my head against his chest and sighed, taking in his warm scent. “No worries Eris, like I promised, I’m here if you need me. No matter what. You need me to face every high lord in Prythian all at the same time while posing as your girl? So be it I’ll deal with their eyes on me, no prob.”

I heard him chuckle softly and relax in my arms, Brandy however was not pleased with the fact she was not getting any attention and was adamant about letting us know it. He released me from his hold and looked down at the small hound, with his hands on his hips.

“I hear you mam!”  He turned back to me again. “What did you end up naming her?” he kneeled down and scratched behind her long ears.

“Brandy.” I smiled gently watching the scene unfold in front of me.

He snorted as he giggled, Brandy moving to nibble at his hand. “Fitting, she's got the spice of a fire brandy. And it's good to see the collar fits her.”

He knelt there petting the small pup, while looking her over. “No health issues? No training issues?”

I shook my head. “No, I haven't had any issues with her at all. She's been well behaved.” 

He smiled and Brandy rolled over onto her belly. “Good, I figured she'd be a good blood line, her sire was Maple’s great-great grandpup.” 

I smiled brightly at the two on the forest floor. “I thought I recognized the spunk.” 

We both laughed and he rose from the floor, Brandy in his arms happily trying to get to his face, tongue lolling out and settling for just licking at the exposed skin of his arm. I took her from his arms and he offered me his arm, I linked mine and in unison we both took a deep breath. 

“To the promise we made all those years ago to never leave the other alone?” He looked down at me out of the corner of his eye.

I nodded. “To the leaves of Maple that were the only beings to hear our promise.” 

He nodded back at me and squared his shoulders. All those years ago, when we had made the deal that initially was just him  asking to never be left alone, I had extended it to be either way: that We would never leave the Other alone. It had been just us and the trees that day, and as we sealed the deal we had spoken those words to each other for the first time; a sharp sting followed by a dull throbbing on my ankle led me to discover the sight of two small maple leaves intertwined with eachother. Eris had grasped at his protruding hip bone just below where his belt was clasped around his waist, the location of his tattoo had caused my face to heat, just the thought of it today caused blood to rush to my face. 

In my dedication to Eris as my mate I had never chased after another male, had no interest in them either really. Of course I knew what would be asked of me as his wife, if had come to that at that time, but all I had ever really seen was my brothers after training, or the low slung pants of male’s at Rita’s that revealed just a little too much for my liking. It had often caused me to lose interest in the current objective that led to me seeing the other males, the bond aching in my chest reminding me of loyalty to Eris, often caused me to return to my room or apartment and escape into the books either within the library or in later years what Lucien and I had collected within our little apartment.  Every time we echoed the promise we had made back in the day, I was reminded very quickly of the tattoo on my ankle and the same one on his hip. I felt the heat in my face extended to my pointed ears as my eyes glanced over where the concealed tattoo would be before I straightened my back and looked forward.

Tonight would be hard, I decided. With Eris looking so perfect, the ache of want that had settled in my chest with a slow throb, and the heat in my face and chest that slowly moved lower and lower every time I glanced at Eris by my side.  The crunch of fallen leaves under my heels drew me back to reality as we neared the gardens of the first house, I could hear music and laughter from within the house. The halls had been closed off in a way Eris and I could make a grand entrance together through the second entrance into the grand ballroom. 

Our steps echoed against the halls as we walked in silence through the now warm halls of the Forest house, till we stopped right in front of a set of large wooden doors. The music and laughter was obvious on the other side of it, two guards looked back and forth between each other and then to Eris.

 Eris looked down at me with a worried smile. “Ready?”

“Ready.”I echoed.

 We both nodded at each other and then Eris nodded at the guards. Two finely dressed males with simple leathers on, a helmet in one arm and a sheathed blade at either side. They knocked firmly on the door once, the music and chatter from the other side becoming quiet as I heard a loud booming voice clear their throat.

“Introducing our High Lord of Autumn, Eris Vanserra,” soft cheering erupted but was quickly silenced again as the male continued, murmurs replaced the cheering. 

“And the female he has declared he will be courting: The Princess of Night Court herself!”  Whoops and hollers could be heard as the doors began opening slowly.

Eris and I took a deep breath, Brandy made herself comfortable yet regal looking in one of my arms. I let Eris lead us into the room of Prythian residents. Eris nodded and mouthed a thanks to the small male I now realized was the announcer.  We came to a stop a few steps in front of the announcer, and Eris  cleared his own throat unlinking his arm with mine. 

“Thank you all for being here, I simply wanted to start this celebration with a quick speech.” The way the light of the grand glass chandelier hit him I was breathless, he seemed like the only male in the room as he drew everyone's attention to him.

“As many of you know this is the first holiday I will be celebrating with you all as High Lord, but I would not have been able to do it if it wasn't for the female at my side and my dear brother Lucien, both of you helped me greatly even if you don’t know it. Secondly, I would like to thank the citizens of Autumn Court for believing in me as their new High Lord. My goal from the second I took over the throne has been to reform this court and with your help and dedication I have been able to begin working in that direction. Think tonight not only as a celebration of a holiday but also as a celebration for your hard work. Now please let me not continue to ramble on because I will with thanking you for every little thing that has made tonight possible, and continue your celebrations.” Cheers erupted and I smiled sweetly at Eris as I extended my hand to him which he took eagerly, Brandy cheering him on with her own little howls and bays.

A servant brought around small champagne flutes, both of us taking one as we clinked them together.

“To tonight?” I chirped.

“To us.” Eris echoed my tone, and we both took a sip from the glasses in our hands.

No, tonight wouldn’t be as difficult as I had thought, tonight would be fantastic. I had Eris at my side after all and if all the eyes on us had any indication how it was going so far, it was working.

Taglist:

@stained-glass-eyes0708 @acourtofbatboydreams @abysshaven

@wallacewillow0773638 @azriels-mate2 @sassyslytherinshai

@sparksandstarss @pandabiiissh @saltedcoffeescotch @cirwin2013

@minnieoo @easchies @melsunshine

@sweetcarolina-24 @florenceivy @inloveallthetime

@azrielsmate3 @witchymomfrien @eternallyelvish

@mybestfriendmademe

[floof-poof]

“Lucien would enact the Blood Duel over claim to Elain.”

Lucien Vanserra?

Lucien, who was willing to undergo torture to keep Feyres name?

Lucien, the only one to give Feyre a way to get true answers?

Lucien, who came to check in on Feyre UTM?

Lucien, who saved Feyres life in the first trial and was whipped debilitatingly for it?

Lucien, who still found a way to make it to Feyre after he was whipped?

Lucien, who gave Feyre a means to protect herself?

Lucien, who took the brunt of Tams abuse advocating for Feyre?

Lucien, who ventured into the Nigh Court tracking Feyre basically on his own to attempt to save her from a HIGH LORD who he thought was mind controlling her?

Lucien, who suffered in silence from Ianthes stalking and harassment?

Lucien, who endangered himself to get to Elain to cover her up when she came out of the cauldron when no one else could?

Lucien, who held Feyre because she was having a nightmare?

Lucien, who performed the Rite out of duty even when it meant forcing him to have sex with the woman who actively stalked and harassed him and would later go on to try to rape him?

Lucien, who was Feyres closest ally in the Spring Court even as she was destroying to only place he could call home?

Lucien, who told Feyre to run while he was about to be raped so she would be safe?

Lucien, who protected Feyre when they went on the run?

Lucien, who went to the Night Court to ensure his mate was safe, not caring about his own safety, not knowing if he would die?

Lucien, who found out what was wrong with Elain, and even through his concern and mate instinct, respected Elains boundaries and the inner circles wishes?

Lucien, who cooperated from the moment he stepped into the Night Court to help give them information to save Prythian?

Lucien, who was the only person to listen to Elains visions, and endangered himself to travel to the continent?

Lucien, who helped bring a fucking army to Prythian to save them and help destroy Hybern?

Lucien, who slaughter his way across a battle field just to make sure Elain was ok?

Added Bonus: Lucien, the ONLY PERSON to tell Amarantha off and lost his eye for it?

I can keep going but I hope you get the point that under no fucking instance does Lucien enacting a blood duel fit his character. He is the most selfless character is this series and how anyone could call him a fucking coward is beyond me. Maybe try reading with nuance and understanding the character yall speak ill of on behalf of Azriel who hasn’t even done half as much. And stop acting like Elain needs saving from him when he’s been nothing but respectful to her and the most respectful mate we’ve seen. Get it together.