#She's NEVER going to give Elain a sword

[flowerflamestars]

I was wondering what you think will happen in Elain’s book? I do not think she and Azriel will be a couple by the end of the novel. The bonus chapter from Azriel’s point of view in ACOSF hinted at a budding romance between Gwyn and Azriel, so I think that Elain and Lucien will end up together (I am not trying to promote certain relationships, I am simply guessing what will happen based on the evidence within the text). Lucien and Elain are going to be an interesting couple, as she has no desire to be with him. The only way I can see her relationship will him progressing is if he notices that she feels over protected and stifled by her family (mostly Nesta and Elain). He defends her without coddling him then he will help her stand up for herself and be independent. To SJM however, being a warrior and defending oneself means that they have to brash to other people. I want Elain to learn to stand up for herself on her own, without turning her into a warrior. I do not think being one matches what we know about her character at all. As for the plot, I am very unsure of what I think will happen. I think it will pertain to freeing Vassa then finishing off Koschei. I would love to hear your thoughts on this.

In no particular order, I have very, very many thoughts on this!

The realest answer is that I don't even think I'll read the next book. SJM stay the fuck away from Lucien Vanserra, actually. I've talked about it before, but I don't think SJM has fully done a functioning ensemble cast/romance since like...Queen of Shadows, and from that point on we've gotten an increasingly formulaic kind of pairing. All stories are the same story, and that story is Feysand, but I digress.

The problem with Elain, much like the problem with Azriel, which I've discussed before is that...she doesn't make any sense. We're given extremely scant insights, which book to book contradict each other. Is she a paragon of human respectability? Is she secretly pleased by the lassitude her new life gives her? Is Nesta her best friend, or her foil? (ACTUALLY, does Elain HAVE friends?) Is her complexity buried beneath her more feminine traits (you tell those Queens to burn in hell, baby) or is she, genuinely, fully bought into a subservient trap? Does she even like men, or did she want to be safe? Does she even like baking or was it a thing forbidden her as highborn child? Does she like gardening, or was it the only way to incorporate beauty into total impoverishment?

We don't know.

So much of the Elain fondness or dislike is fanon.

It's kind of a classic writing problem of the books now, actually.

Which is- minus love triangle Bullshit, which we’ll get to in a sec- why presumably the Azriel book and the Elain book are the same book. They’re both window dressing, fluffed up in the worst possible way in the Nessian book.

In contrast, we actually have a very good handle on who Lucien is. Loyal, kind, a survivor, and a handsome competent man. A diplomat before a warrior, but not incapable. Genuinely magical. Someone who tries to do the right thing, even at great personal cost. He's one of the very few consistent characters, by dint of being sort of...sidelined, by the narrative? (honestly, thank god)

Lucien, as he is, is a ready-made protagonist. 

He has a canon backstory that is iffy in that every single SJM man has a token Dead Woman to be Sad About informing his character, who is allowed zero characterization or value beyond ANGST (see Rhysand’s dead mother. and sister. And Cassian’s dead mother. and Azriel’s tortured mother- none of whom are given NAMES), but there’s things to work with there. He’s intensely tied to a the Court system we know .02% actual info about, but he’s not actively a member of any court. He’s doing his own thing. He is, apparently, the only faerie INCLUDING FAERIES WHO WERE HUMAN RECENTLY who is willing to be around human beings.

That gives us room for a metric ton of plot. He could actually speak to Helion! He could help Jurian form a confederation of human kingdoms because hey, all the Queens are dead? missing?? He could return to Spring, a Court he was the second highest ranking faery in for...at least a century, I think? (which seems IMPORTANT in a place where the lands magic chooses leaders, but god knows if follow-through exists in Prythian) 

He could be revealed to be the actual heir of Autumn.

Let’s pause here, because let’s be real: SJM is not going to write a plot heavy acotar novel. I still do not remember the name of the last villain, but I remember the horrifically male-gaze blow job scenes like a reoccurring nightmare. This is a Romance holding a fuck the patriarchy keychain. 

Which brings us to Azriel. 

The funny thing about Azriel is that, actually, his character makes the most sense and was the least of a nightmare in the original love triangle the books set up and then discarded: Az, Mor, and Cassian.

The longing! the angst! the whole three-headed monster of it all.

Azriel in this love triangle is...a problem.

Most obviously because his POV whips out that he’s decided to maybe murder Lucien? Not even because he and Elain are together (they’re not yet), but because they could be, and Azriel feels like it’s fate...or destiny... or, ya know, horrific entitlement, that he and Elain be together. Three (not) brothers (who used to all fuck in the same room together but never touched) and three sisters. 

With the kind of...disintegration of the original Mor plot, we’re also left with this weird repetition going on? Here’s another beautiful blond lady with mysterious powerful magic who, for Reasons, is not held up to the standard all other ladies are and doesn’t need to be a warrior. Look, her fair golden hair is snagged on his sharp scary armor! Look, he tracks her through the crowd! 

He’s literally able to save Elain before she’s horrifically tortured, in a replay of all his centuries of Morrigan guilt with a better outcome.

It was kind of working, until we got his POV

(And then, again GROSS fact that only Feyre and Nesta have, uh, magical Illyrian internal structures now for baby wings. And apparently, all love is Love and Babies.)

It’s not really clear if Elain actually likes Azriel or if, you know, because of that sky-high pedestal, he’s just like... nice to her. In place where she knows no one, populated by assholes. 

We know Az IS into it- and we know it’s not going to happen for reason number 2: Rhysie says no. 

Az and Elain had more groundwork, but Azriel is a literal roadblock to that ever happening. Elain and Lucien are mystical soulmates, but Elain is literally (and honestly, after watching what her sisters have gone through, this IS the only thing that makes sense) leery of even being near him. 

We need a shake-up. 

(Gwyn is an obvious lead-up. I can’t even with the whole ‘light-singer’ nonsense, but, clearly this is where we’re headed. It’s been Gwyn/Az endgame since the ribbon moment, making Gwyn the only object of his attraction to....ever choose him.)

Assuming the Vassa/ human queens/ koschei / the lake?? plot isn’t flat-out dropped, I have to assume Elain is going to, somehow (probably because she wants to turn back into a human), leave Velaris and be in the mess of that. 

Lucien will be drawn in from the other direction- Jurian and Vassa- and Az will either be there with Extreme Prejudice, or there will be a Feysand Plot Reason why he and Gwyn are like, on a different continent. Elain will Save Herself from the Evil Sorcerer with Vassa’s help, in a presumed eastern european folktale smash up. 

The coolest take of this that lives in my heart actually would be Elain being the Baba Yaga figure here, the opposition of the Deathless, who helps the girls for her own reasons and with her own demands.

 It’s interesting to note that Vasilissa is usually aided in various stories by three knights: the red, the white, and the black. The Sun (or Dawn), The Day, and the Night. Lucien, Jurian, Azriel? some mix?

As for Koschei, there is a story with three magical princesses. And their three, magical, winged husbands. 

(And their brother, who must be revived after Koschei who I can frankly see as Jurian or Lucien if I squint)

What is most likely, really, is probably direct bits but not a direct lift of either story. Elements have to mix. Koschei stories tend to be about love and rivalry and we’ve definitely got that in spades. Maybe Gwyn AND Elain get kidnapped. Maybe Koschei is a sexy bad man with purple eyes round 2. Maybe Elain ends up with him. 

The second possibility is that the human stuff gets dropped. 

(Koschei lingers as a Future Big Bad for future...Feysand novels, probably)

And this is the AUTUMN COURT NOVEL

We have the lingering, two-way blackmail, deus ex Eris. It’s time for that promised coup, maybe? Maybe red-headed Gywn comes from the Land of Magical Redheads! Maybe Az is going to be his worst murder boy self! Maybe the magic will choose Lucien! 

Maybe we end the Tim Tam drama with the border changing, because that man does not want to be High Lord.

And then we can pay off changed, but semi-relevant The Flowers on the Drawer.  Lucien can go home! Azriel can murder...some Vanserra’s? Because he hella, hella wants to? 

The only thing I think won’t happen is endgame Elain and Azriel, but god knows anything else is on the table. 

[b0xerdancer-writes]

Baring Teeth

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Summary: Azriel and reader are mates, after what has felt like a lifetime to them with how fast life has seemed to move Azriel finds himself wanting what his brothers have, his mate having been through hell and back is willing to give him whatever she can.

Warnings: Some smut scenes, death, violence, war, torture, blood, inappropriate language and jokes, this is entirely an 18+ work.

Word Count: 14,099

Notes: This was meant to be that Azriel baby fever fic from the get-go, but I got sidetracked, it gets there eventually. Lemme know if you would like to see a part 2!

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If you asked Azriel he was anything but a jealous male, if you asked his mate however she would tell you it was circumstantial at best.

It had been only a handful of years since my sisters had destroyed the cauldron and the king of Hybern but life seemed to want to fasten its pace. I couldn’t say I didn't blame it for wanting too either.  Being born between Nesta and Elain always had its challenges, my mother favored Nesta as the first born and both of my parents always doted on Elain for her sweet, caring, and gentle nature; I had always just been there neither parent cared what I did and that was amplified when Feyre was born. I used the opportunity to learn something unique for my family, how to wield a sword, to fight, to kill. I used the opportunity to learn from guards, sell swords, mercenaries, and what teachers were available to me. 

So when my family lost all of their money I announced I’d be working as a sellsword, Nesta had thrown a fit about it but at this point she threw a fit about everything. I had a small amount of gold stashed for myself so when my parents finally decided to marry me off I’d run and buy all the things I needed to start my career as a sellsword, or mercenary, or just whatever I ended up becoming; I’d announced I was going into town and slipped out the door with the bag of coins strapped to my waist. I had bought a few furs, a good quality sword that would get me through till I could buy a better one, some bags I was able to strap across my body, and some easy traveling clothes, and some small pieces of leather. I knew if I was going to be gone they would need some way to be able to get food; I split my coin down the middle and used half of what I had left to buy them food, the other half I’d save for travel expenses. 

I dropped the food off with my sisters and father, then slipped back out the door after a quick goodbye and made my way towards one of the nobles' nearest estates. One of my teachers had written to me when he found out about my family's misfortune and told me he was stationed there and would recommend me to the lord he worked for, all I had to do was show up. I Showed up like he said, not to the front door but to the side door, the servants quarters and there I was greeted by my teacher and some other for hire guards who all coaxed me in with pats on my back and one went to fetch the head of staffing. It was an easily acquired job with a recommendation from my teacher and the other guards that had greeted me at the door, an even easier job to perform with good pay; simple patrols and hunting shifts at 50 gold a day. 

While I was there the barracks became my home, the other sellswords and mercs became family and before I knew it I was going out with them on the days we were released and getting drinks and celebrating. I had a pretty good stash of gold saved up, kept it in a nice bag that my belt strapped through and kept it firmly against my hip, I would write to my sisters and send them 10 gold once a week to help keep them fed. If I sent more I knew Nesta or Elain would commandeer it and use it on useless things, they could at least stock up on a good amount of fillers like rice or barley with 10 gold.

 They never wrote back, it was probably a good thing in hindsight. Had any of them mentioned Feyre being taken by the fae I would have gone right after her, but there was no mention of it to me until I got a letter from Nesta one day saying they had been moved into a new estate and father’s fortune had been restored by some sheer dumb luck. I wrote back congratulating them but making them aware I had no intention of giving up my post; then the next letter came written by Nesta again it had said something was wrong with feyre, telling the story of what had actually happened while I was gone. It had told me that Feyre had been taken by some fae monster that then she had returned after that first letter had been sent to me but had to leave again to go after some male she loved, but that this time she called the same male she left for the first time a monster  and had appeared at the estates doorstep with three males on her heels and asked for us to hear them out. I didn’t bother writing back, Nesta had sent that letter the same day. If I took a horse I’d be at where they mentioned their estate was within two hours, so I stepped down from my post and was told if I ever needed it to come right on back to them; I set out towards my family's estate with a large fur on my back to battle the chill winds, when I arrived a staff member took the horse and showed me inside. 

Nesta was the first to greet me, pulling me in for a hug and telling me how proud she was that I made something of myself; she told me how tense the atmosphere had been since Feyre showed up with the males, that feyre was now a member of the fae and she had somehow been changed into one of them. I had nothing against the civil fae but we were close enough to the wall some strays would slip through and tear apart weaker humans,  I had helped the barracks crew take down some rogues that slipped past the wall on a few occasions; nothing big, nagas as I had been told were the most common ones we faced. 

Stepping into the room elain squealed and buried herself into my side and the fur I wore, I heard Feyre call out to me with hesitancy as her eyes raked over the small scars the littered my exposed skin from the fights in the woods or sparring accidents; I motioned her over and pulled her into a hug, fae or not she was still my family and still my baby sister. The fae behind her had introduced themselves and their positions, they seemed to have no qualm with me but with Nesta and Elain. One wrong comment sent Elain into tears while she profusely apologized to Feyre, the two had their moment but it didn’t set right with me; yes they were in the wrong for doing nothing while Feyre hunted almost daily for them and I was off working, but they very obviously realized they had fucked up and were in the wrong. It did not mean they got to insult my family and I made sure they knew that, one of the males the tallest with the biggest wings there that I would later come to know as Azriel, seemed amused with my wild and protective temper and applauded me for it. 

They later left with promise to come back soon, I busied myself with the guards and servants we had around the estate by leading patrols and hunting parties myself; I stayed out of most of their business so the next time I saw them  I had just returned from a hunting party, dragging a decent sized deer to the kitchen. The tall male found me there in the kitchen caught off guard when he found me there, sleeves rolled up and cloak tossed to the size with a butcher knife in my hand while dismembering the deer; he had introduced himself to me then, as Azriel, and offered to help. I tossed him the hide and asked him to bring it out back, string it up on the dry rack. He agreed, I’d get around to curing the skin of the hide after I finished drying and preparing the rest of the meat; when he returned I had already stored all the meat away and was by the sink basin washing the deers dark blood from off my hands, I looked up at him from the corner of my eye and watched as his breath hitched and he quickly excused himself from the room. 

Nesta was the one who collected me when the queens were on their way, a new member had joined us in the living room that I had not recognized but she introduced herself as Mor; I stood silently like a guard myself when the human guards joined us, silently judging them as my sister and ‘her mate’ as she had called him explained to the queens what they needed. The meeting was surprisingly quick, the queens leaving just as quickly as they had arrived. We ate dinner together like a family that night, Azriel made small talk with me about my skills and training; I had to admit to myself that I found it endearing no one else even my sisters cared or dared, I wasn’t sure which  it exactly was with them, to ask me about it.

They left the next morning, and life returned to normal once the servants themselves returned; Oftentimes I got incredulous looks for being in the back working on my pelts or  sparring with the dummy I had ordered set up when I returned to the estate, other times the children of the servants were more than ecstatic to ask me of tales I had experienced within the woods. I had ended up using that deer hide in my cloaks, something about it was sentimental to me, though I couldn’t quite place why. 

A few weeks later, my nerves were on end, like the times when the entire barracks would ride out together hunting a naga or other rogue beast and we weren’t quite sure where they were lurking. I didn’t bother changing out of my armor and cloak. I should’ve trusted my gut that night, as I was unable to find sleep easily and only able to fall asleep with my blade at my side and a dagger under my pillow. I awoke to screaming from down the hall, Elain’s scream, I burst out of my room blade in hand knocking a few of them off their feet as the door collided with them.

One thing that had been instilled into me over the time with my teachers was the fact the bigger you looked the more intimidating you could be, my piled furs and cloak were an extension of that teaching; a large black wolf pelt was my crowning piece on my shoulders the, the deer hanging over my shoulders under that like a shawl. 

The fae turned to look at me in the faint light and darkness of our home, needless to say the illusion I was aiming for had worked on them as I heard several yell, “Beast!”, in alarm at me. And beast I was, I had taken down and decapitated several of them before they finally apprehended me in my war path to get to Elain and Nesta, the latter I realized had been gagged and I saw blood on her face; ever the fighter she was I had seen one of them holding her nursing one of his hands over the other and had surmised she had bitten him, and taken a chunk from his hand. I’d have to applaud her eventually for that, it was genius thinking and she was always so much smarter than she let on. They doused us with some sort of potion or substance that swept Elain under immediately, Nesta fought off the sleep as much as she could but after a few seconds went under herself; I fought against them straining and struggling, teeth bared, fighting off the sleep that coaxed me at the edges of my mind till they had to use another dose to put me under.

I awoke to chaos. So much was happening. Azriel and Cassian were insanely injured but still trying to fight the bane in their systems to crawl to us. Feyre bawling. Two males and a female I didn’t recognize beside her. The male I had been introduced to as Rhysand was in pain himself. A large male in the center of the room. Two guards either side of Elain hauling her up. A large thing that didn't seem natural in the center of the room. Nesta had three guards around her. I had seven. The seven I realized were on edge around me, made uneasy by me. Made uneasy even though I was restrained in any way they could think of. I felt like a beast surveying its options of prey to hunt. 

The large male in the center, realizing all of us were finally awake, finally introduced himself as the King of Hybern, a name I recognized Azriel’s family talking about at the meeting. The King introduced the strange object as ‘The Cauldron’, Azriel had mentioned it was something akin to a god to them. Not natural indeed. He motioned for the guards to bring Elain forward as he explained his plan, the guards raised her over the large pot; she screamed and thrashed in their grip, red marks and bruises already appearing on her skin. I saw red. I shot forward, catching all the guards around me by surprise as they scrambled to get ahold of my restraints and chains; they stopped me just as Elain went under, my arms were pinned behind my back by a chain and I snarled, insults and threats falling from my mouth. I heard Nesta react similarly yet not as violently as I was, seemingly stunned by everything going on, or maybe it was just her cold mask refusing to let the King and our enemies see how much she was fazed.

The king simply let out a dark laugh. “The feral beast bares her teeth.” It was meant as a condescending remark.

They pulled Elain out of the cauldron and I jolted forward towards her again, catching the ones holding my chains off guard and several of them fell to the floor from the sudden jerk forward that caused them to lose their footing. One of the males at Feyre’s side mumbled something I didn’t catch thanks to the blood pounding in my ears, and my attention caught on him and the blondes beside him; he straightened eyes, or eye, wide and he stumbled back. I turned my attention back to the so-called ‘King’, promises of death dripping like venom from my teeth; I barely caught the fact Rhys or maybe it was Mor had pulled Elain to their side of the room. 

The King tilted his head at me, an amused smile on his face as he spoke to me. “You want to behave like a beast? So be it.” He turned his attention to the seven around me. “Get her in that cauldron I don’t care how.” 

A chorus of yes sirs surrounded me and the chains began to dig into my skin as they tried to pull me towards the over-sized cooking pot.  I had just started to lose my footing when a weak call came from my right, giving me just enough motivation to regain it.

“Fight them! You’ve taken down worse things than them! They are nothing compared to those Nagas in the woods! Come on! I believe in you! Show them those techniques you told me about!” Azriel had  braced himself on one elbow wincing against the fae bane in his system. 

I nodded and braced myself the best I could, the guards stood on the other side of the pot as me and I turned slightly as I let out a snarl like smile. They looked between each other in worry as I dug my boots into the ground and hauled ass the other direction, dragging one of them too close to the cauldron they tripped, losing control of the chain and fell in screaming himself. One of the others dropped a chain to the floor, giving me more breathing room, to help the screaming male out of the pot; he trashed on the floor ripping his armor off exposing his skin that had begun boiling and simply falling off.

The others tightened their grip on my chains but were distracted by the horror of the scene, the one that had helped him out screamed and began throwing up. I heard Nesta cheer behind me, and I turned my attention to what seemed like the now weakest guard holding my chains; I charged forward, the male screamed in horror as I caught him off guard and took a page out of Nestas book and sunk my teeth into his throat. Just as I was expecting the guards on the opposite side pulled violently and assisted me in pulling his throat out, I wasn’t going to go down easy, and by whatever gods did exist it was going to be violent and bloody. He grasped his hollowed throat and tried to scream as he collapsed and I spit the wad of torn flesh towards the King’s feet; I was down to four guards , but what I didn’t account for was the backwards motion created by the other 3 guards.

I had collided with the side of the cauldron and howled out in pain, the guards took the opportunity to haul me up; I tried thrashing but every time I moved pain shot through my body. Unable to struggle against the water as it pulled me in I snapped at the guard trying to push my head under’s hand, taking a few fingers with me as I finally submerged. 

It was dark for a moment, then I was in an open room able to stand on my feet and move without pain. I heard shuffling somewhere opposite me, the more I moved forward so did it; till I was face to face with a giant beast, black and golden brown, eyes that seemed to look into my soul, and grand antlers with flesh hanging from them. The sickening feeling like I was looking in a mirror sunk into my chest, when I moved the beast moved. 

Then it finally spoke, yet it didn’t at the same time. Something ancient I couldn't understand or speak. Yet intrinsically I knew what it was asking me. That if my true nature was like that of the beast itself, that I should just give in. That if I did I would bring all my enemies to their knees, take them all to their graves. It asked if I would accept that part of me, asked if I would accept its offer of power. I nodded, and it stepped forward lowering its head to my level. I stepped forward meeting it there in the middle of the never ending, ethereal space. It pressed its head against me, and then I was taking a large gasping breath as I felt my bones break and reforge, a blinding pain before I could see detail so much sharper then I had been able to, could hear everything as every sense in me heightened. I felt stronger, felt faster, like one of the beasts I hunted in the woods with my friends in the barracks. Then I felt the inky thickness of the Cauldrons water again, I could see my own hands and claws as I reached out and felt the cool metal; I felt the chains around me tighten again ever so slightly before they fell away as I began to haul myself from the black water. It sloshed and spilled over onto the floor as I emerged, blacker than the depths of the shadows that followed me through the woods in the late hours of the night.

I swallowed a breath as I hauled myself over the edge of the cauldron and finally collapsed on the floor; I used my hands to keep me from fully collapsing as I kneeled there and looked up at the King, a deadly promise in my eyes as I snarled a simple “Your head will be mine and I’ll enjoy every minute of it.”

My hair hung in my face, droplets of black water slowly fading to a normal color as I dried, and he smiled in amusement. “Once a beast always a beast.”

I took a breath and looked down at the puddle on the floor, my firs were still wrapped around me though sopping wet but it wasn’t my obviously messed up appearance that shocked me, but the eyes that looked back at me that did. Thin slits like the beast I had seen within those waters stared back, the color still my own but so much different. I heard Azriel call out for me in a strangled noise, I turned my attention sharply towards him to find him looking devastated; I wanted to comfort him, he was such a good male and I was in so much pain I was exhausted, I hauled myself shakily to my feet barely able to make it to him as I collapsed at his side. Nesta called out to me as my vision began to fade, and I saw Cassian lurch forward despite the threat to his life as he screamed for her. I lost my vision just ;as she was going under’ the simple threat to the king, so much calmer than  my own, made me smile before I passed out.

I had despised waking up in places I was unfamiliar with, I shot up with a growl before wincing and clutching my side. A small female attempted to calm me down to no avail, till I heard Azriel’s weak voice through the haze. 

“Hey Wildling, woah, woah, they are just trying to help. They’re our healers. You're in the Night Court, remember me telling you about this place?” He was on a cot in just his leather pants, a large white bandage around his waist, chest, over one shoulder, and around his massive wings.

I nodded and looked around slowly, all the fae were looking at me terrified and on edge, like they would run from the room at the slightest growl from me.

“Sorry, just caught by surprise.” I mumbled and looked down at the bandages around my own waist, they covered my chest and entire torso.

I didn’t really care about modesty, you live with men for long enough especially mercs and sellsword men that you stop caring, and they stop caring about your own body. Many times I hade changed into my uniform or hunting clothes in front of them while we were all getting ready for the day's assignments. I scanned over the bandages no blood leaked through but everytime I moved It hurt, everytime I took too deep a breath it hurt. 

“I’m sure from your experience you can gather what happened?” Azriel’s voice was soft, and a comfort. I wouldn’t admit it, yet anyways until I found out everything that was going on, but I had started to consider him a friend or maybe something even more; I mean those wings were fascinating and from the time we aparred in the back he had experience and when my knee had met his crotch in a low blow, after all who fought fair anymore, he was well endowed. 

“I’m one of you now, aren’t I? Elain and Nesta too, just like Feyre.” I quirked a brow at him and he nodded.

“And as for your injuries, what do you assume happened?” He quirked a brow right back at me, a test of my knowledge like we had done with sparring.

“Broken ribs? That pull back had to have enough force to break them, especially when I collided with the cauldron. Severe bruising and maybe even some large gashes? Those chains were tight enough there had to be at least major bruising.” I winced as I adjusted how I was seated.

He nodded with a smile. “Correct to an extent, good job wildling.” His wings flared as he adjusted himself, and I wanted to move forward and help him adjust slow enough he wouldn't hurt himself. 

He smiled when I extended my hand to stop him. “Hey im okay, i'm more worried about you right now, I’ve been shot down from the sky with fae bane arrows and survived it. I'll be fine. You however are the one I’m worried about, those chains were tugged back tight enough it had shattered your ribcage and  popped at least one of your lungs. Thankfully the fae healing kicked in for you fast enough to keep you alive.”

I nodded in stunned silence. “Just sore and it hurts to move i. Sone directions, I'm breathing fine now.” 

“Good! Madja, shes our lead healer here, was worried your healing wouldnt work fast enough since you were freshly made.” Azriel told me in a worried tone, but I could feel it in my chest, feel just how worried he was in my heart; could feel his emotions as well as my own.

I tilted my head in confusion and reached for where I felt him in my chest, my brows furrowed and he straightened.

“Are you okay?” He looked anxious like he was about to call for one of the nurses to help me.

“Im fine just confused? You told me all that information in a worried tone but I felt it here,” I motioned to my chest, “Like it was my own emotion.” 

Small gasps echoed across the room and the small nurses fled. Azriel rose from his bed slowly and came to sit at the edge of mine. 

“You feel it too then.” He spoke softly to me like he was calming a storm. “I wasnt going to mention it to you right away, both Nesta and Elain didn’t have the best reactions to suddenly having mates.”  

“Mates?” I tilted my head quizzically at him. “I’ve heard the word, though I’m not a hundred percent sure what that means or what is expected of me.” 

He placed his hand on mine. “Like Feyre and Rhys right?” I nodded. “The Mother, you remember her right? I mentioned she was another one of our ‘gods’ as well.” I nodded again, listening intently. 

“Well,” he hummed trying to consider how to word something.”She blesses some fae with mates, or whats called ‘the mating bond’ its a soulbond between two people normally between two fae. Though admittedly both Rhys and I felt it with you and Feyre while you were still humans.”

I moved to squeeze his hand softly with my own. “So, our souls are intertwined with the others?”

He nodded. “That's one way to put it,while you didnt feel it snap till you were turned most likely, i felt it that day I walked into the kitchen to find you washing the blood off your arms and hands. You were just, how do I put it into words, Ethereally beautiful? Darkly enchanting? I don’t know how to word it but you get the picture. I felt the bond snap in my chest and I almost lost myself to the emotions when you looked up at me the way you did, like a flirtatious taunt.”

A blush crept up his face and I felt it creep up my own. I felt his adoration seep into my own chest again and I looked up at him in pure adoration back. “How do you do that?” 

“Do what?” He smiled.

“Make me feel what you’re feeling?” I furrowed my brows for a second as I tried to send my emotions to him, to show him how I’ve felt about him for a while now without realizing it.

He moved his hand to his own chest, and tears welled in his eyes. “I didn’t even have to explain it to you, see? You’ve already picked it up. All the love you're pushing through to me. Good Job wildling.”

I smiled but then frowned. “I get the physical connection of it now but what is expected of me?”

He smiled and caressed my face gently, thumb running over my cheek bone. “As of right now? Nothing. But if you decide you want to accept it or reject it, then we will have more to discuss.” 

I nodded and went to open my mouth but he interrupted me first. “I don’t want you to make a decision right now. Think on it for awhile, process all the changes to your life first okay wildling?” 

He smiled sadly and I nodded. I could feel his sadness through the bond though I could tell he wasn't trying to make me feel it, I just could, probably easier than most I assumed since every other sense of mine was heightened. A soft knock rasped against the door and my attention shot to it, Azriel called for whoever it was to come in. Rhys had pushed his head in followed by his entire body.

He nodded at the two of us. “I see you’re both doing well, I owe the both of you an explanation and update on everything.”

So we sat, we sat and listened as Rhys gave us the rundown. How and why Feyre was in the spring court, how she was our inside girl, how eventually she would return. Explained to us Cassian was still out, having experienced a higher dose of fae bane than Azriel, but while he was healing slowly he was still healing and would be okay. Then he finally turned his attention solely on me and gave me a rundown on Nesta and Elain’s health. I must have pushed my grief down the bond to Azriel before the tears had even reached my eyes, because he was already comforting me when the dam burst. Rhys stood silent in front of us, before he congratulated us on our bond and offered me any assistance I would need in adjusting or helping my sisters adjust to the massive change in our lives. Eventually he left ,after some small talk with Azriel, to check on Cassian.

Then it was just me and Azriel again, for the next few weeks it stayed just me and Azriel in our small medical room with check ins from Rhys and Madja. We eventually  got the clear and along with that cane the announcement Cassian was awake, we beelined it to his room; he was still on bed rest and would be for the next handful of days as they double checked everything had healed properly and assessed the damage. I was shown to my room right next door to Azriel’s, inside a neatly wrapped box in a blue bow sat on the foot of my bed.

“I asked Rhys to pick it up for me.” He smiled and sent a wave of adoration into my chest.

Opening the box I found a set of folded clothing black pants and a flowy comfy dark blue shirt. I sent a wave of appreciation his way and fingered the silky fabric. “Thank you Az, this is… probably the nicest set of clothing I’ve ever had.”

“Your welcome wildling.” He leaned down to press his forehead to my shoulder. His actions caught me by surprise and nearly had me crying, it was such a pure act of surrender and love; my breath caught in my throat and I had to swallow back sobs as I moved one hand to caress what I could reach for the male.

I had made up my mind then and there what my answer to the bond would be, if anyone could guide me and my ways through the sudden changes it was him. I stepped forward and he furrowed his brows but I turned and planted a kiss on his lips. He let out a mixture of a cry and a whimper when I pulled away, his eyes wide and watery; I turned back towards the clothes, not thinking about the implications as I stripped from my current ones and bandages but was stopped before I could step into the new ones laid out in front of me. 

Azriel’s breath caught in his throat as he ran a light touch across a lingering bruise on my skin, goosebumps shot up my skin in a wave of chills that caused me to flinch and wince. Azriel growled softly at the thought of me in pain, or at least that's the impression I got from his side of the bond. 

He wrapped himself around me, his hands finding purchase on my chest, causing me to swat at him with a light hearted hiss.

He grumbled back at me, rubbing his hand where I had smacked him in mock defeat. “You shouldn’t be so casual about stripping then. Especially  being as hurt as you are, the urge to just protect you and curl up around you is a bit overwhelming right now.”

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my clothes, finally stepping into the new ones. “This is nothing compared to what it used to be like in the barracks.”

“What do you mean?” It was slightly growled out, the tiniest wave of jealousy seeping from his soul to mine. 

Without thinking about what he meant or the new emotions in my chest I responded to him. “There were maybe 10-15 of us in the barracks total, I was the only female. Not necessarily common amongst sellswords, yet I kept up with all of them. You all become close like family; I'm sure you get how that feels, I mean you, Cass, and Rhys are like that. But after a point you all just change infront of each other and no one really looks or cares anymore, it just becomes natural, part of the routine in the morning.” 

I shrugged it off as I shrugged my shirt over my shoulders, still slightly sore when I stretched my arms above my head. Azriel growled but tried to stop himself, an attempt to remember I hadn’t accepted the bond yet so he had no reason to be feeling jealous and territorial. “Ah, I see, I get what you’re saying though I admit I am a bit envious that 10 or 15 males have seen you shirtless before I did.” 

I tried, I really did, to prevent the chuckle that fell from my lips. Azriel growled playfully in response. It was comfortable whatever we had, between all their meetings at the house and the now formed bond between us, I felt safe around him. Behind him neatly hung my cloak and furs, sparkling and pristine as the days I had cured them; yet somehow bigger, I understood with a simple what had happened: they had changed with me.

He caught where my eyes had fallen and smiled at me brightly. “Oh! Rhys said he would bring them to your room, I noticed they were different too. You went into the cauldron small yet ferocious enough you unsettled them, they couldn’t figure out how you were outsmarting them or how you had already killed so many of their comrades. But when you came out, they understood how and why. The cauldron however it forged your body anew, decided that for however ferocious and ambitious you were, you would need a bigger vessel to do it in.” 

I hadn’t realized it yet but I only stood a few inches shorter than Azriel did now, eye level with his chin and throat; when before I was much shorter, level to his chest at most. It was then that I caught my reflection in the mirror, my features had indeed sharpened or elongated in spots and I gave off a predatory air about myself without even trying; Azriel stood behind me as I took the sight in. While I knew he was no high lord, the way in which he carried himself said otherwise, in the mirror, I realized we looked like the Lord of shadow and the beast that lurked just within it. A display I noted, however beautiful it was just between us, would have horrified onlookers if it was meant to intimidate. A thought I found quite pleasing.

He rested his head on my shoulder and I let out a low purr in response to the imagery in the mirror. “So. Let's say if I were to accept this bond.” He perked up. “What would be expected or asked of me? What would the process of accepting it be?” 

His eyes met mine in the mirror, the smallest change in his scent had alerted me to what affect my questions had on him. A small enough change that if my senses hadn’t heightened more than even Azriel or Rhys’s that I wouldn’t have caught it. 

“If you were to accept it,” he crooned, “then my answer would stay the same, I expect nothing of you except to accept my love for you and for you to return it back to me. I have waited centuries to find my mate, and you are so new to the world of the fae I want you to be able to explore it but I also want to be a guiding hand for you to do so. As you know I’m Rhys’s spymaster. I may be gone on missions for up to a week at a time, if you wish I can train you even more and you can eventually join me on them.” His shadows swirled at my feet, I had learned to accept them as an extension of himself from the first time we met, where he went they followed. “Is that acceptable?”

I nodded, a warmth in my chest. “And how would consummating the bond work?” A low purr rumbled from my own chest that ended in his own.

“It's a real simple process, a simple ritual, only differing slightly from the human tradition of marriage. Same significance just without rings.” He placed a kiss on my neck before continuing. “One of us cooks for the other, and presents it to the other to eat. Normally it’s something simple, seeing as the hormones and instincts start to affect us from the first bite we normally can’t scarf a whole meal down. Feyre made Rhys soup. Once the food has been consumed, like I said instincts and hormones take us over, reverting us to nothing more than feral creatures intent on fucking our mates till we collapse. That phase normally takes about a week, then it's a phase of adjusting to life together, heightened emotions, territorial instincts, and being inseparable till the bond calms. That phase however differs between mates.” His eyes bore into me in the mirror, the gold flecks in his hazel eyes sparkled in a feral amusement at my reactions as he spoke.

“So all I’d have to do is cook you something?”I tilted my head giving him more access to my neck as he slowly dragged his lips across the open space, in slow tension filled kisses.

“It depends,” He smirked at me, his canine digging ever so slightly into my skin. “On if you had the intention of accepting the bond or not. You have to make and serve me the food with the intention of accepting the bond.”

I shuddered under him. “I take it Rhys has given you some time off from work, to recover and until Feyre updates us on the situation?” 

“Possibly.” He nipped at my neck trying to elicit the same shudder as earlier. “Why do you ask?”

I wanted to groan at him. “Maybe I was considering consummating it. But since you won’t give me a straight answer we will have to wait and see.” 

I offered him a smirk back only for it to die on my face quickly, between the heat in his eyes and the growl that rose from his chest.

“Wildling.” He warned, “Do not toy with me, if you have the intent to accept the bond, tell me here and now. If you intend to cook for me I will march you straight to the kitchen and barge into Rhys’s office right now to tell him I’ll be taking the week off entirely.” 

I swallowed a shaky breath at the pure power and intimidation he oozed when growling like that, his nose twitched and I assumed he picked up the shift in my scent. “So tell me wildling, do you intend to accept it?” 

I swallowed and nodded. “Yes, I do.” It was shaky and broken up as I tried to regain my composure.

“Good” That same growl again, had my knees weakening. “Then I’ll show you to the kitchen.”

And so he did, he led me through the winding halls of the house till we were in the large kitchen and he dismissed himself quickly with a kiss lingering on my forehead. I shuffled through the cabinets noting ingredients as I went, trying to figure out something I could make. Meat, I knew how to cook different meats, had hunted and cooked several different kinds of it, whatever I made him I decided I wanted to have meat in it. Beef I thought or some chicken, I jumped out of my boots when a bundle wrapped in brown butcher paper appeared on the counter in front of me; the house was sentient Azriel had told me but I didn’t think it meant like this. 

I unwrapped the bundle, white meat and from the looks of it chicken. Easy to cook, easy to pair with any ingredients I found lying around; my attention was drawn towards a fruit bowl, a lemon topping the pile of fruits. How amusing I thought, for the fae to have fruits from the human lands; only when I had pulled a knife from the wooden block and had split the lemon in half did I realize it wasn’t just a lemon, the taste and smell of it were both much sweeter and stronger yet still held a sour note. I found the spice cabinet and went through it, pulling everything I wanted out; a lemon pepper chicken I decided, simple yet enough to keep his energy up.

I had a tendency to keep my guard up unless I was in a place I ultimately felt safe and with Azriel just down the hall I felt safe enough to lose myself in cooking, it was something I had learned I had enjoyed when I was working in the barracks; I’d hunt down whatever tomorrow’s dinner would be then help the chefs prepare it for storage, then take the hides to be cured and turned into blankets for the barracks or depending on the quality of the pelt. Then when I returned to the kitchen the chef would have the night's dinner out and ready to begin preparing. The chef there was an older gentleman with blonde hair that had turned mostly white by the time I met him; he walked me through everything he did, explaining why and answering any questions he had. However, due to my love for the craft I found it easy to lose focus of the world around me and let my guard down; which was fine, until it wasn’t.

I had been so distracted pan searing the chicken that even with my heightened hearing I had not heard Azriel’s approaching footsteps, he leaned against the archway the led into the kitchen from the dining room silently as I hummed and began plating the chicken; I had been cutting  the lemon into a smaller sections to drizzle it over the chicken, knife in hand I turned around to drizzle it on the plate when I heard the smallest of noises from the male. I jumped and spun towards the noise, the knife in my hand thunked into the wall an inch from where Azriel had just been leaning his head as I threw it. 

His eyes widened as he jumped away from the wall. “Mother, save me, efficiently deadly even when off guard.” 

I clasped at my chest as I panted loudly trying to catch my breath after being startled. “Fuck me! Azriel! Warn a lady!” 

He mumbled  “I'm trying.” Before actually apologizing for scaring me. 

He slid his way onto a barstool and I pushed the plate towards him, he looked between the plate and me before he cut a small piece of the chicken off. He stared at the small piece of chicken and then looked back up to me, with a small nod from me he swallowed the small piece and I could see all the emotions cross his face as he began to scarf down the rest of the small piece. His wings flared ever so slightly as he bit into the last piece on his plate and I rounded the small island, pressing myself between his massive wings, a gesture to sooth him as I felt the cooling air he normally gave off grow in temperature and sweat began to form on his brow line. Then he had finally swallowed the last piece and chugged the small glass of water I had set out to accompany his meal, I had ran my hands over his shoulders and wrapped them loosely around his neck; His hand reached up and grabbed mine before he was pulling me off him and spinning around, capturing me in a tight hug as he pressed his lips to mine. With a growl he was pulling me down the maze of halls and then we had finally reached the set of familiar large grand doors with swirls and lines that reminded me of his shadows carved into them, the small royal blue rug he used as a welcome mat slid under our feet as he pulled me into another kiss while pressing me against the door. 

He had managed to pull away enough to fumble with the door knob and finally open the door, his room greeted me with the gorgeous ash colored wooden decor accented in that same blue that matched his siphons. I took a few steps inside, he followed right behind, his shadows closing the door behind us with a click; he wrapped himself around me and his lips found purchase on my neck. I could feel everything coursing through him down the bond, my own emotions, hormones, and instincts beginning to scream louder and louder over any clear thoughts I was having. His scarred hands ,that I had found as a beautiful testament to all he had been through, ran under the soft material of the blue shirt and left goosebumps in its path.  

He slipped the shirt off over my head and spun me to face him as he dropped to his knees, pressing several open mouthed kisses to the spattering of scars that adorned my skin. The last coherent thought I had before I lost myself to the haze of the bond was that one day I would kiss over every scar that littered his own skin like he had done with mine, I’d do it as an act of devotion when he thought he wasn’t deserving of anything good in his life. 

He pushed me towards his bed, bedecked in blue silk sheets, till I finally fell back on it and he was right there at the foot of it slipping my boots off. He threw them somewhere across the room and then turned back to me with lust blown eyes, I ran my hand across his jaw line and leaned down to press a kiss against his lips; he replied with a soft moan and as he pulled away he began slipping the pants down my legs, ripping the only covering left on my body like the feral beast he currently was. His fingertips dug into the skin of my thighs as he held them apart, licking his lips with a smirk as he lapped from me like a stray hound. I can’t remember how long we were there but he repeatedly brought me crashing down over the edge on his tongue and fingers, the haze cleared ever so slightly as he threw me further up his bed and settled himself between my hips; my legs wrapped around his hips as he nipped at my neck and throat, a moan fell from my lips as he came to rest the head of his cock against my opening. 

My mouth fell open as he sheathed himself inside me, capturing my lips in his as the moan I screamed echoed off the walls of his room. My legs tightened around his hips holding him close to me as I adjusted to his size, I wasn’t a lady by any means, I had fooled around with the males in the barracks occasionally when tensions were running high after some stressful patrol or hunt but they were all nothing in comparison to the sheer mix of Azriel’s girth and length. While with my newfound growth spurt the stretch didn’t particularly hurt it was still an adjustment, my mind wandered to those nights my mind had drifted to imagining him between my legs instead of my own hand. Azriel’s name was like a prayer falling from my lips as he slammed himself into me, our moans and pants mixing together as we called out each other's names. We were there, slotted together for what felt like ages until his hips stuttered and his wings flared, finally coming undone inside of me after he had brought me repeatedly to the edge and past it.   

As he finally released inside of me, I felt the bond in our chest sing as it solidified and could then feel every ounce of pleasure he had received, if the growl that escaped his throat was any indication of him being able to feel my own, the pride he sent my way was. He finally pulled himself away from me and moved to stand, placing a kiss to my lips that I returned eagerly as he stepped into the attached bathroom. Exhaustion slowly started to come over me as I awaited the male, he returned to me and I couldn't help myself but to pull him back on top of me with another heated kiss.

He let out a mix of a growl and a laugh. “Look if we keep going down this track the bath I just drew for us will be cold by the time we are actually able to return to it.” 

I sighed and relented, letting him carry me to the bathroom where with his help we both sunk into the warm clear water. He held me against his chest and began to run his fingers through my hair as he hummed a soft melody, I started to drift off with my head on his shoulder and he happily let me. He woke me when the water started to get cold, stepping out before me he wrapped a towel around his waist then helping me out and wrapping my own towel around me. My legs were still semi-shaky so he happily elected to carry me back to the bed, dropping both towels at the foot of the bed; he pulled back the sheets letting me crawl under them he followed behind me, pulling  me to his chest we managed to get a few hours of sleep before he was slotting himself back between my legs and my hands found purchase at the spot where the membrane of his wings met his skin. The moan that left his mouth as he shuddered above me would never leave my thoughts, neither would the sensitivity of his wings.

It took us about two weeks before we were able to leave the confines of his room, finally going back to training was a relief especially after we had moved my belongings into his room earlier that morning. However Azriel was still overly territorial of me so Cassian found himself pouting as he sparred with Rhys. We had kept that routine until Azriel’s territorial behavior had lessened as long as I was within eyesight, Rhys was finally able to teach me how to control my mental shield and prevent daemati attacks. I had become a natural quickly between training with Rhys and sparring with Azriel as he furthered my teachings on fighting, we were in the middle of sparring when Rhys announced the boys would need to fetch Feyre and the friend that was accompanying her out of Spring Court. I had kissed Azriel goodbye and wished him well as he and Cassian took to the sky, I had decided to take the opportunity to fully explore the house; I had either been too entertained in Azriel, injured, or busy to fully explore it earlier.  

I pushed a semi-large door open to be greeted with isles of bookshelves, a hearth that wasn’t lit, a long table with many chairs, and a few small loveseats in front of the hearth with a small coffee table and rug. Inside sat Nesta, who scowled at me, a handful of books whose genre matched what she and Elain enjoyed reading; I had no doubt she was reading them to Elain, Rhys had kept me updated on my sister's conditions. 

“Sister…” A half-hearted acknowledgement as she turned back to the isles picking another book out.

“Nes! You look good! You could eat a bit more but-”I happily circled her taking her in before she cut me off.

“You look like you’ve adjusted to this life well.” It was a bitter acknowledgement that I did indeed look and act better than both her and Elain did right now.

 “Well, Yes I have, Azriel has been a great help with everything-” She started towards the exit and I followed behind her.

“Well, you were always the wild one, I suppose it's fitting for the beast to feel at home amongst them.” I stopped in my tracks and she pushed her way out of the library. 

“Nes..” I reached out for her but the door shut without her even looking back.

I tried to block my emotions from flooding Azriel while he was on the mission, simply sighing and turning back to the shelves around me; I plucked a random book from a shelf and made my way back to Azriel and I’s room, our room. The comforting shadows carved into his door were a happy sight as I oh so elegantly threw myself onto the black loveseat he had moved from my room into here, grabbing a fur blanket I made myself at home on the small couch with my book and some tea graciously provided to me by the house. Maybe once Feyre was back it would knock some sense into Nesta and Elain, I could hope at least.

I felt a calling from the bond an hour later, Azriel had made it back with Cassian, Feyre, and that red-headed male that had stepped towards Elain.  I bounded up the stairs, racing through the halls and then finally slid into the living room. Feyre was wrapped in Rhys’s arms and I threw myself into Azriel’s welcoming him back with a kiss, Feyre whipped her head around to  look at us; Rhys hadn’t told her we had accepted the bond yet, so when she found out she happily congratulated us. I pulled her into a crushing hug, which she tapped out of just as Rhys had called a meeting that had the entire inner circle making their way into the sitting room with us. 

Mor happily smiled and waved at me, she had watched me spar with Az and train with Rhys and when the boys just needed to absolutely deck each other she would lead me up one balcony to where  her and Amren set up a small little tanning spot. Amren, while Azriel had described her as this terrifying creature based on the energy she gave off, had only ever seemed as an equal to me. I had never felt that overwhelming power like the boys had described to me, she gave me a small smile and sat on the other side of me.  While tucked into Azriel’s side with Amren’s foot touching my own in a comfortable silence, Nesta and Elain finally entered the room. It was a long night but eventually after a heated argument between my sisters everyone was dismissed, my sisters being allowed to keep to their own devices. 

Azriel was sparring with Cassian and I had found myself holed up in Amren’s apartment with her doing puzzles when we had gotten an emergency call from Rhys. Amren and I both sped out of her apartment and we were off towards the mountain house, Azriel and Cassian picking us up and bringing us up the stairs to save us some time. We had been informed of the break in to the library, Amren and I were both on edge this understanding between us, when one was on edge then the other was too. Rhysand had asked her to comb through the rest of Velaris that night to see if any other uninvited guests were hidden amongst us, Amren invited me with her and I happily agreed. Azriel covered me with my furs and cloak and kissed my forehead as I set off to join Amren in this makeshift hunt. 

It seemed like a back to back eventful week, I had crawled back into bed beside Azriel extremely late at night or extremely early in the morning depending on how you looked at it and it felt like I had just fallen asleep when Azriel awoke me in an emergency. Azriel had hurriedly told me Adriata was under attack and I slipped into the leathers Azriel had made for me adding my  furs and cloak back onto my shoulder, next thing I know I’m in the bloodied streets of Adriata beside Mor and Feyre, Azriel and Cassian somewhere in the skies with whatever other forces Rhys had scrounge together on such short notice.  I had been pulled into a hallway by someone whose armor I recognized as the enemy held me in a chokehold and I couldn’t get a grip on them due to how they had my arms restrained, an idea graced me as their arm  rubbed against my face in my struggle. I growled before opening my mouth and latching my sharpened teeth into their arm, they screamed and relaxed their grip; it was enough of a give I was able to tear my mouth away from their arm and turn on them before tearing their head from their shoulders, a trick Amren had taught me. I rejoined their side and they both gave me a look that questioned if I was okay without the words leaving their mouth. 

Then we were back home, and I was more than thankful to rinse the blood from my face. Nesta seemed to be coming around slowly as she worked with Amren, Elian was still pale and distant but was slowly coming around with Nuala and Cerridwen. Everything had seemed like it was going okay when Rhys and my sister finally announced the meeting with the rest of the high lords. I stayed beside Azriel the entire time we were there, it had seemed like negotiations were going fairly okay, yes there was people acting suspicious of others but with a war on the horizon who wouldn’t be suspicious of others, until Eris had opened his mouth about what had happened to Mor; she had confided in me what had happened one day when I had seen the scars while we were tanning, Eris’s words had enraged me and Azriel as well. If I hadn’t been enraged I was sure Azriel could have kept his composure if it wasn’t for my added emotions screaming down the bond. 

Azriel reached across the table and had decked Eris, I stood from my own chair when Eris had landed a hit against Azriel’s cheek; a growl had ust echoed from my chest when the fight was called off. That had been the start of the downwards spiral of the first day of the meeting, Tamlin showing up and portraying my sister the way he did was enough for Azriel to defend her and when Azriel was dismissed out of hand it took everything I    had in me to not rip Tamlin’s throat out; thankfully I was still able to threaten to do it. With tensions so high the first day of the meeting was called, the rest of the circle retired to our quarters with Helion in tow.

The second day started out alright, we all thought all tensions or issues had been aired, by the mother were we wrong. Interrupting us in the middle of a thought Nesta had screamed while the hairs on the back of my neck raised and we heard a loud crackle and roar, the color had drained from everyone’s faces as we realized what that had meant, the wall had fallen. 

It had been months of war, fight after fight had everyone exhausted, and we all knew the last leg of the fight was nearing. Elain had been kidnapped by the cauldron, Nesta felt like she was guilty for opening the bridge that had let that happen; Azriel had calmed me while I destroyed the inside of the tent we all stood in at the news she had been taken, had let me get the anger that I failed to protect both of my younger sisters now. Then Feyre was concocting a plan and going into the enemy camp as Ianthe, Feyre was rescuing Elain while also rescuing an additional person with the help of Tamlin and Jurian. It was only after this we had found out Juriuan was a spy and was actually on our side, but they wouldn’t make it out with the naga-hounds on their tails and Azriel had to help rescue them.  I had been panicked enough at the thought of my sisters in danger but from across the hills I watched as a naga-hound had sunk its fangs into Azriel’s wings, the scream that left me was gut wrenching as I felt the pure pain my mate was in. 

Finally everyone was back in the camp, Azriel in the med-tent being cared for by Madja the thought of losing his ability to fly due to permanent damage to his wings looming over both of our heads. I knew how much flying meant to him, but the final day of the fight was upon us and I wasn’t going to let my sisters be on that field without me.  I had come face to face with the weaver while I was out on the field, she had stopped and acknowledged me with a small smirk before she continued on her bloody rampage. Bryaxis and the Carver were there as well, I had crossed paths with them once or twice, and we had covered each other's back, why they had done it? I haven't a clue, but I assumed they recognized the rage beginning to boil under my skin, that had finally started to rear its head as I ripped those that opposed me apart. Whatever it was that lurked under my skin snapped as I heard Nesta scream, my vision blurred and I felt that terrible snap of my bones as I blindly ran towards my sisters. 

It was as my vision cleared that I truly recognized what my gift from the cauldron was, what I had agreed to in the depths of the cauldron when faced with the beast that lurked there. I loomed over the fae scattered about the grounds around me, some shrieked in horror others stood stunned, I felt something thrashing against my mouth and gritted my teeth, biting down i felt the familiar crunch of bones yet it was all so different as a scream erupted and the taste of blood filled my mouth. I had become the same beast I faced inside the cauldron, I felt the energy that thrummed through me as I raced towards where I felt my sisters. As I reached the top of the hill I saw our father there, when had he joined the battle? How long had I been enraged?

Cassian was there too, Nesta covering his body wit her own, and the King had a sickening smirk on his face. My father stood between Nesta and the King, a pit formed in my stomach as read filled me, one paw in front of the other I tried to force my body forward. Before I can blink the King has my father’s head in his grasp, a sickening snap has me charging forward as our father slumps to the floor. A blur of movement, as my vision begins to blur again, then I’m towering over the King. I hear Elain scream as they snap closed around the King and his headless body slumps to the ground beside our fathers, his blood tasted bitter and I feel the crunch of his skull collapsing in on itself within my mouth. I let it fall from my mouth and watch as it awkwardly rolls a few inches from where it had hit the ground. Elain has a bag of medical supplies and moves to stand by Nesta and Elain, our eyes catch on eachother and there's an understanding there, they recognize me.

“Sister…’Elain barely mumbles it. 

I stand in shock before I feel the bones in my body cracking again, exhaustion crashes into me and I’m back in my fae body. I can’t even take a step before I’m collapsing and hearing yet another heartbroken scream from across the field, my vision blurs like that time back in the throne room after the cauldron. 

I hear murmuring when I finally come back too, based on the smell and colors I’m able to figure out I’m in the med tent. Azriel is in the bed to my left, still healing from his wounds the hounds caused. He looks like he's been crying and I try to push myself up to comfort him, all the voices silence all at once; the rest of the circle stands around me and Azriel, Madja helps me sit up and it's only then I realize it's not only me and Azriel there, Cassian is in a cot across from Azriel and Amren in one across from me and Rhys is being looked over while he sits on a stool in the center of the four of us. 

It's Azriel’s voice that finds its way to me first. “Hey Wildling, good to see you awake, take it easy. You overdid it out there, but you still did it, you took the king down. According to Cass, you ripped his head straight off his body. Good job Love.”

It's a bitter smile in his voice. “I remember that, what happened after? It's all a blur.”

 Cassian's astonished laugh is my answer “You ripped his head off, ended the whole thing, then you changed back from whatever that huge creature version of you was and passed out.” 

“It's what I saw when I went under in the cauldron. That beast is my gift, I guess.” I dryly answered back, still sore from the pain in my bones. 

It was then after we had cleared up what had happened with me, with the king did Feyre, Rhys, and Amren tell us what all else happened. Rhys had died, Feyre had felt the bond break and begged the lords to give him his life back. Amren had sacrificed herself for us too, she technically had died, sacrificed the ancient part of herself and was now just a regular high fae. Our father was dead, and the war was over. Life could somewhat return to normal, and I was grateful.

Finally Solstice was rolling around and everyone could breath somewhat normally, Azriel and Cassian had both healed nicely. Azriel and I had grown even closer and stronger, we had thrown around the idea that sometime after the solstice we would do an actual ceremony that mated fae did when they decided to marry. I had been ecstatic, we had cried the night he suggested it and had made love for hours, staying in bed the next day till well after the sun was over the mountain. 

I had managed to get some time to do solstice shopping today since Azriel was out on a mission from Rhys, he said he would be back before dinner tonight. It had felt like I had searched every shop, yet I still couldn't find something for Azriel. Everyone else I had gotten something, even Nesta though I knew it was unlikely she'd be there with her current habits; she had asked to be left alone so I left her alone.

For Mor I had found a pretty red night dress that was incredibly thin and strappy with a slit that easily would’ve reached her navel, for Amren a pair of sapphire earrings with a matching bracelet set, for Cassian a set of training wraps for his hands as he had taken to complaining about the new scars there bugging him, for Rhys a set of small purple cufflinks, Elain a book I had found talking about gardens and plant life throughout the courts, Feyre I had got a set of canvases made from incredibly nice materials and the stuff to make your own p[aint like she had when we were younger, Nesta a collectors set of books she had often read as a child i had to admit I asked Rhysand to get them from the human lands for me, but Azriel? I was clueless. When asked he said he wanted nothing, but by the mother I was going to get him something.  It was only after I turned into another shop that I spied the smallest thing in a glass case out of the corner of my eyes. 

Elain had asked if a tonic for his headaches from Madja would be a good gift, as the male did often battle headaches from his terrible sleep regime. There was one thing he complained about, especially more often now that the colder months were approaching; the scars on his hands would often become sore, sometimes they would become so painful he couldn’t spar or even write. In a small glass case I spied a silk pair of gloves, I knew there was an enchanter in Velaris and was quick to purchase the soft gloves. I wanted to get him soft gloves so they wouldn’t catch on the scars, a bell ringed above me as I pushed the door to the enchanter open. An older male greeted me, and I passed him the gloves explaining what kind of enchantment I wanted to put on them; he nodded knowingly and brought them into the back to get to work, he returned them to me half an hour later folded and wrapped in blue tissue paper. I thanked him cheerily and paid him generously for his work.   

Back at home I sat criss-cross on the floor, wrapping the gifts in shimmery black paper and wrapping them with blue bows. Eventually calling Rhys to hide them away with the rest of the presents like Azriel had told me to do. I decided to take a nap on the couch and Azriel had returned right on cue, well before dinner was to start. We made our way to the townhouse for dinner that was beginning to be decorated for solstice, after everyone had ate and said their goodnights Azriel swept me into the air; a tradition we had started after family dinners was to go on a flight across Velaris, I’d be clutched tight against Azriel’s chest as we soared above the city and finally back to the house on top of the mountain. I had happily curled up on his side that night as the solstice crept closer.

When finally the day of solstice had come around, Azriel had brought me down to the town house, kissed me goodbye, and informed me he would be back before dinner. The other two illyrian males disappeared with him, and I helped my sisters with preparations.  Mor and Feyre disappeared together  for a few hours, it was well after noon when everyone had finally returned from their little snowball fight; Rhys and Cassian were pouting  as they kicked the snow off their boots upon entering the town house. My mate proudly walked in behind them, head held high, very obviously the winner. I pressed a kiss to his lips and congratulated him and in response he deepened it, slipping his tongue into his my mouth for a second before Rhys and Cassian were faking gagging noises. 

Eventually the time for presents rolled around and everyone had started exchanging gifts, then Nesta had showed up in a pretty rough condition. I hugged her and pulled her to sit beside me, pressing the boxes from Elain and I into her hands; tears had welled in her eyes when she saw what I had gotten her but she caught herself before they fell and simply thanked me with a hug. Everyone else exchanged presents, save for a few of us mates, Rhys and Feyre hadnt publicly exchanged gifts and neither had Az and I. We celebrated Feyre’s birthday and then Az and I went out to Elain’s gardens, which had been decorated with strings of faelights. I asked Az if I could give him my gift first, to which he easily agreed and I presented him with the gloves.  He slipped them on over his hands and tears found themselves in his eyes as he thanked me and peppered me with kisses, eventually he composed himself and asked me to close my eyes to which I agreed.

I heard a crunch as he shifted around in his spot, “Alright, open them.” 

Tears filled my eyes at the sight in front of me, Azriel was kneeled in front of me, a ring box presented out to me.

“I know we already discussed this and both agreed to it, but I hadn’t got you a ring to symbolize it yet.Happy Solstice my wildling.” He stood and slipped the ring onto my finger. 

We had returned inside to find everyone else passed out or in their room,we slipped into ours just like everyone else. 

A few months later Feyre was announcing her pregnancy, we had all celebrated together and that night had flipped a switch in Azriel, neither of us had really known the male had a thing for breeding until the thought of us being in Feyre and Rhys’ position had crossed his thoughts, that night was filled with breathy moans and the sound of skin pounding against skin. Yet the simple act was enough to satiate Azriel’s hunger, to satiate us both really. 

Feyre had a difficult pregnancy but pulled through, Nesta sacrificed her powers to save Feyre’s life and before we knew it. Feyre was pregnant with her second and Azriel became hungrier and more feral when he fucked me, claiming his instincts were screaming at him to repeatedly fill me.  

It had all been okay until Nesta and Casssian had their first born, a whole new side to Azriel unlocked. I had never seen Azriel as jealous as he was the day we all sat around the living room, the infant in Nesta’s arms and Cassian leaning over her shoulder to wiggle his finger at the small girl whose wings flapped happily. Nyx was six at the time and had eagerly climbed into my head to hug me, ever the affectionate child unlike his sister who wanted nothing to do with anyone since her birth. Azriel’s eyes caught on me holding and rocking the six year old and I felt the pride roll down the bond from him, I sent him a joyous wave back.

It was only when Cassian and Nesta passed me their daughter did I really feel how jealous Azriel had become of the little families his brothers had crafted. As the small girl placed her tiny hand around my own an dI began to tear up as she smiled happily at me with the biggest grin on her face, I looked over to Az and saw the emotion in his eyes, a mix of lust, jealousy, and pride. I offered the small babe to him and he took her in his massive hands, adorned with the silk gloves I had bought him all those years ago. She wrapped her hand around one of his fingers and he looked up at me with massive puppy dog eyes. 

Azriel’s birthday approached quickly, and I knew above all else there was thing he wanted for his birthday. I had felt it enough through the bond, every time he would see his brothers with their small families a small wave of jealousy and want would be sent through to me. Cassian’s daughter had just started walking, took her first steps today because she had wanted her father and he was just out of her reach on the couch, Azriel had been witness as she threw herself in Cassian’s arms; he had come down to our room that night upset, had cried in my arms how he had wanted what they have. It wasn’t that we were doing anything to prevent a pregnancy but when both of my sisters had conceived they had taken potions to boost their fertility. Which led me to Azriel’s birthday gift and the current appointment I had with Madja. 

With the potion secured the day of his birthday, thanks to Rhys’s wonderful distraction, I was able to wrap it in a small box and hide it within our room. After hiding it I had made it back to the kitchens just as Rhys and Azriel had returned, Azriel pressed a kiss to my lips and Nyx had run in and threw himself onto Az in a bear hug. It was an endearing sight that had me hoping that with the addition of the potion Madja had made me soon enough our own son would be doing that to his father. 

Dinner had gone off without a hitch, Nyx and his 4 year old sister Aurora lit up the table with their argument over whether or not Helion’s pegasi hatched from eggs like birds or were live births like horses. Nyx was getting fed up with Aurora's egg theory since he had asked ‘Grandpa Helion’ himself last time they had gone there, Arora was 2 and he had been 6 so of course he knew what he was talking about. Rhysand was rubbing his temples in agony, apparently the children had been having this argument all day, and wouldn’t let any adult butt in and settle it. 

Eventually all the kids tired themselves out and everyone started toting them to their rooms, Rhys had hugged AZriel wishing him a goodnight, Feyre taking the chance to whisper to me a goodluck with a wink her mate not far behind her with a smirk and a nod in my direction as they headed off for their wing of the manor.  Cassian and Neesta had left almost right after cake due to their daughter completely crashing and passing out at the table in her high chair. 

Azriel smiled and let out a soft sigh. “Thank you for planning this love, it was a nice night.” he placed a kiss to my temple with a small content hum.

“It only gets better from here Az.” I smirked and he wiggled his brows in response.

“Oh yeah?” a smirk flitted onto his features.

“Yep. Still have to give you your present.” I nodded smugly and started pulling him towards our chambers.

He followed , curiosity evident as he tried to repeatedly guess what I had gotten him, guess after guess fell from his lips. Before Madja would give me the potion she had to check and make sure that if I managed to conceive it wouldn’t be a risk to my health since I didn’t have the magical benefit from Nesta’s powers that my sisters did, but thank the cauldron literally,  because when it gave me my gift the growth spurt affected all of my bones including my hips so I was safe to carry his child. We made it into our room, my furs hung up on a coat rack beside the wing-suited coat I had got him last solstice and beside them a end table we used as a catch-all. I had hidden it here in the drawer because we always just threw stuff on top of it and went on collapsing into bed at night after rough missions. 

He furrowed his brow as I pulled the box out and handed it to him, I gestured for him to open the small box  and he stilled when he saw the small vial.

His eyes darted between me and the vial, tears began to well in his eyes. “Is this…”

 He had to bite back a sob so I finished the thought for him. “The fertility boost both my sisters used when they conceived? Yeah it is, I finally got approved by Madja for it.”

He dropped to his knees holding the vial and sobbing. “Thank you, my wildling, thank you.”

I took a few steps towards him prompting him to stand up and pulled him into a deep hug, until he composed himself and stopped crying. 

He handed me and the vial with a pleading look on his face. “Can we use it tonight?” 

I took it from him and popped the cork out of the small bottle, shooting the terrible tasting liquid into my mouth. I wiped my mouth as I smirked back at him. “That's the plan shadowsinger.”

His shadows curled happily around my feet as I pulled him into a deep kiss, slowly coaxing him farther and farther into our room as I managed to strip his clothes from him. Then when we had finally gotten close enough to the bed, I pulled him down on top of me while I nipped at his jawline.  I could feel the effects of  the potion slowly start taking effect, I had been told it would increase the amount of lubricant my body produced as well as a dull throbbing ache within my ovaries and uterus. 

Azriel realized fairly quickly he was the only naked one and ripped my clothes from my body, his head dropped to my core and he buried his tongue inside of, bringing me to orgasm a handful of times. Eventually satisfied with the taste of me on his tongue, he buried himself to the hilt inside of me and I could feel the tip of him kiss my cervix. I screamed his name until my throat was hoarse that night, only soothed when he had spilled a handful of times into me and finally pulled out only to replace my dripping cunt with my mouth instead. 

We slept in the entirety of the next day, either wrapped up in each other as the potion boosted fertility for 48 hours, or sleeping and recovering some energy; though there had been many times we had fallen asleep together with him still buried deep inside of me so as not to waste anything.  I had made a promise with Madja that I'd start checking in with her weekly after the potion was consumed and the effects had come and gone, so if I was to get pregnant from this night, we would catch it as early as possible to start me on the correct vitamins and set up a care plan immediately. 

As I laid there in Azriel’s arms I could only hope that thanks to the potions help his seed would take root and I would be able to grant him this one small thing he so desperately deserved.  His snores lulled me into my own sleep and in my heart were that bond sung and glowed brightly I had a feeling the intended result would in fact take root.

[shadowdaddies]

Hi! Can you do an Azriel x fem!Illyrian!tall!reader where they are mates and the bond snapped for her but not for him yet and she doesn’t say anything because of his thing with Elain. They just stay friends. They are spies together and go on a mission and something happens where they have a fight and he leaves her to do the mission alone and she ends up getting kidnapped and tortured. By the time the bat boys find her, her wings had been burned and healed over so they are covered in scars and she was clipped so she can never fly again. And maybe the reader never says Azriel’s name even after centuries of being friends. Just calls him by nicknames but when she’s being tortured that all she’s calling. Ugh my heart. Long request, very angsty with hurt and comfort but a happy ending

I teared up a little bit writing this. What a beautiful request, thank you for sending it in and for being patient through the holidays as I got to it. 💜

In Every Lifetime

Azriel x Reader angst to fluff

Warnings: explicit torture, blood, mentions of death, etc

Your shriek pierced through the air, drowning out the sound of Hybern’s naga-hound as its claws shredded Azriel’s wings. Tears brimming in your eyes, an unknown force propelled you towards him as you cut the hound down with your sword, looking up in search of hazel eyes, only to find them locked on the beautiful Archeron sister in his arms. 

The snap in your chest felt nothing like the electric warmth you’d heard of from others. Instead, it was as though someone tore each chord of your heartstrings from your chest as you watched Azriel - your mate - leave Hybern’s camp with Elain in his arms. 

Caught up in the stresses and planning of battle, no one paid mind to your solemn mood. No one saw the single tear that tracked down your cheek when you watched Azriel give Truth-Teller to Elain. 

When the war ended, your family assumed that your depression was a result of trauma from the battle, and you let them. Months passed in a daze as you forced your body to ignore the call it felt towards Azriel. Your name on his lips, the feel of his hand on your shoulder - any interaction with Azriel was too much for you to bear.

What your family did not miss was how you became a shell of your former self. Nearly a year had passed since the war ended, and you could not look Azriel in the eyes anymore. Couldn’t forget how they looked at Elain, her hand brushing his at family dinners. Your reclusion expanded to the rest of your family, unable to lift your eyes or meet them in conversation at dinners, the pure fear of what you might unleash if you saw Elain’s hand on your mate. You knew that you had no claim over Azriel. He was not even aware of the mating bond, and you couldn’t tell him so long as he cared for Elain. 

Heart sinking exceptionally low in your chest, you pushed the food around on your plate as thoughts eddied in your mind, only to be interrupted by Rhysand clearing his throat.

You looked up, violet eyes watching you with poorly veiled concern as he addressed you again. “I said that I need you to join Azriel on a trip to the Autumn Court. Eris believes that Beron may be considering an alliance with Koschei. The two of you will travel there tomorrow night while Eris helps you sneak into Beron’s office for any intel.”

Teeth bit down harshly on your lip, fingers clenching around the fork in your hand as you fought the urge to look at Azriel. With a deep sigh, you managed to meet Rhys’s gaze as you gave him a curt nod. 

“Tomorrow night. See you then, shadowsinger,” you nodded to Azriel, shooting up from your seat at the table and excusing yourself without another word.

The next day was spent preparing, mentally and physically, for your trip. You packed your bag with your regular weapons, arming your body for a stealth mission, arming your mind for mental torture. Azriel’s knock sounded on your door right on time, a shaky exhale leaving your lips before you turned the handle.

“Are you ready?” Azriel spoke, voice low and shaky as though he were afraid of your response. You simply nodded, eyes only able to meet the lower half of his face as you attempted a weak smile. With a small sigh, Azriel placed a hand on your arm. You flinched at the touch, missing the silver lining his hazel eyes at your reaction.

Darkness swirled around you, familiar shadows encompassing your forms as Azriel spirited you both away to the Autumn Court. You landed just outside the Forest House, following Azriel as he directed you behind him against the stone wall. 

“We should receive a signal from Eris once it’s safe to enter. Just stay close to me, please,” he whispered, pleading in his tone as you once again refused to meet his gaze. With a silent nod, you trailed quietly behind Azriel in the grass, both of you keeping your wings tucked in tight as the shadows covered you from sight of the guards.

An odd, unfamiliar bird call sounded in the distance and you froze, instantly on alert. Azriel, though, visibly relaxed as a small smile graced his full lips. “That’s the signal,” he said, holding out his hand once more as you forced yourself to take it. The warmth of his touch sent your reeling, your only salvation being the onslaught of cold shadows whirling around you once more, carrying you directly to Beron’s office.

“Look around, see if there’s anything in or on Beron’s desk that might show he’s been in communication with Koschei or his allies. I’m going to stand watch outside, see if Eris is able to show with any new information,” Azriel spoke softly, his body tense as he shifted between you and the door.

You nodded dutifully, wasting no time in moving to the desk as you sifted through letters and ledgers. You froze, one parchment catching your eye. “Az, this mentions meeting on a lake-“ 

The cold steel of a blade at your throat took you by surprise, blood running cold as you took note of the three males surrounding you. The one with his blade to your throat gripped your wing harshly, crumpling the sensitive appendage as you crumpled in his hold with a whimper. 

Azriel turned from where he stood in the doorway, jaw going slack as cobalt siphons glared in preparation to fight your captors. A dark laugh sounded behind you as the fragile bones of your wing snapped, shocking pain searing through you as your eyes shot to Azriel’s.

Your world tipped on its axis as you looked into your mate’s hazel eyes for the first time since the bond snapped for you, helplessly watching as Azriel stumbled back in shock and you vanished into thin air in front of him.

You awoke in a dark cellar, the stench of blood and excrement muddying your thoughts as you came to. Cold metal encircled your wrists, a slight tug confirming the heavy iron shackles that held your arms taught above your head.

The taste of iron filled your mouth, red blood coating your tongue as you swiped it along the gash on your busted lip. With a groan, you instinctively moved to stretch your wings, only to feel an excruciating pull against them.

You dared to look up, bile rising in your throat as you took in the sight of your wings nailed to the wall. Spread out on display for your enemies, bleeding from the holes in which iron pierced through them.

“Ah, it’s awake,” a male rumbled as he strode into the room with preternatural grace. You immediately recognized him as one of Lucien and Eris’s brothers - a Lord of the Autumn Court. The two other males you recognized from before flanked him on either side as they stalked towards your limp, bleeding form. “Now we begin.”

Days passed, questions you couldn’t possibly know the answers to being strung at you like arrows to a target. With each failed answer, a slash was delivered to your wings, the once beautiful source of pride for you now a tattered, mangled mess, blood trailing and staining the floor around you.

“I will ask you one last time, where is Gwydion?” the Autumn Lord asked, dagger flipping in his pale hand as amber eyes assessed you. 

“Fuck you,” you spat, blood spewing from your mouth at the venomous male. His nostrils flared, anger rolling from him in waves as the hilt of his dagger clanged against the stone above your wing. Gripping your chin, a wicked smile spread across the male’s face as his arm dragged the blade down.

It cut through your wing like butter, your screams only slightly muffled by the tight grip he held on your chin. Azriel’s face flashed in your mind, your bond subconsciously reaching out to your mate as you realized you would never be together in this life.

Vision turned red, thoughts incoherent from the pain as words were uttered in your ear. You could hear the sick satisfaction in his voice as your torturer dragged the blade down your other wing, fully severing it from your body.

With a sickening sound, your wings slumped to the ground beside you only so briefly before they were lifted up and tossed like sacks of flour to the other males. “Pin them up, so it can have a view while it dies,” the red-haired male ordered before leaving the room.

You were soon alone, vision fading into your old wings in front of you, and out as you pictured Azriel’s face. Leaning back against the jagged stumps where your wings once were, you finally allowed the tears to fall. Perhaps it was selfish when your mate loved another, but all you wanted in your last moments was to feel those hands you’d avoided for months, to look in the depths of golden and green eyes and feel comforted knowing you would find him in the next life.

Your eyes drifted shut, the scent of cedar and mist filling your senses as you thanked the Mother for one last moment of comfort before your life ended. 

Of course, you wouldn’t find peace in the afterlife either. Bright sun filtered into whatever room you were in, the space horribly similar to your home in Prythian as your head pounded in pain. You dared to open your eyes, and for the first time in nearly a year, smile.

Dark curls fell in front of hazel eyes as they focused on you, chilled mist and cedar giving you a dizzying satisfaction.

“I knew I’d find you in  the next life,” you whispered, voice rasp in pain as you looked to Azriel sitting on the bed in front of you.

His brows dipped in confusion, head tilting as a scarred thumb caressed your cheek. “What next life?” he murmured, pain lacing his tone.

Your eyes fluttered shut once more, already tired from the effort of speaking. “In the last life, you loved Elain. But I knew I would find you in the next. I’m your mate in every world, and I’ll wait until you love me back, Az,” you admitted, half-asleep as you melted into the soft cushion under your head.

You heard a gasp, your eyes straining to open as Azriel looked down at you. Tears fell freely down his flushed cheeks, lip wobbling as his hands cupped your face. “I love you. In this life, and every other. I am so, so sorry that I failed you.”

Reaching a hand up to hold his, you savored the warmth against your cheek and smiled. “I will find you in every lifetime, Azriel. Be whatever you need.”

Leaning down, Azriel pressed his forehead to yours as he breathed, “You are all I need. In every lifetime.” 

Patting the bed, you urged Azriel into the space next to you, falling asleep in your mate’s arms, filled with a deep peace unlike that which you had ever known.

Part Two

[acourtofthought]

Chaol and Nehemia offering Aelin their weapons is one of the most heartwarming moments of the first book.

Azriel offering Elain his knife (which he has offered no one else in half a millennia, and which also became the cover photo of ACOWAR alongside an image of roses…) is similarly heartwarming.

So what exactly is the point of your post?

I also find it hilarious that you included a screenshot of this quote - the moment between Chaol and Aelin;

“Far inside of her, she found a golden chain that bound them together.”

That sounds like mate language, no? Similar to the “thread” between Elain and Lucien?

And yet Chaol and Aelin weren’t endgame. 🤷‍♀️

You forgot the part where Az only offered Elain TT because the female he canonically loved begged him with tears in her eyes to sit out of battle. You and I both know had he not agreed to doing what Mor asked he would have never given Elain TT.

I don't remember Chaol being in love with any other female during the scene where he offered his sword, do you? Or Chaol in the very next book going on to look at someone other than Celaena with heat and yearning? No, Chaol was loyal to her before they were together and during the time they were together.

You also forgot the part where Az never offered to give Elain any help though she was concerned about not knowing how to use TT versus Chaol who helped train Celaena. Chaol who laid on the ground next to Celaena during her Duel.

The scene with Celaena and Chaol was heartwarming, much more so than the scene with Elain and Az because of everything mentioned above. Chaol and Celaena were by far the superior ship to E/riel. In literally every way.

But you're right. Chaol and Aelin weren't endgame because she had a mate who was always going to be her destiny. My point was that Sarah has two series featuring two similar scenes where a possible male love interest offers a weapon to a female but that doesn't actually mean anything in terms of endgame. Sarah J Maas is a millionaire because of the Fated Mates stories she writes. It just doesn't hit quite as hard to become a rejected mates author so people claiming the TT scene means Az is Elain's forever? I'm going with no.

Despite Aelin initially wanting Dorian in book 1, despite her later calling Chaol her home and him thinking how 4 years (and not just one taste and that would be it like Az wanted with Elain) might not be enough, these men were not her endgame.

Again, my point is that it doesn't matter how special you think the moments for your ship are, mates are always going to fulfill something for these females that no other male love interest can.

The ACOTAR book had a wolf on the cover but it didn't hint at endgame for Feyre, what's your point?

And no, "chain" is not like mate language considering each Archeron's CONFIRMED bond is described as a thread and we know the golden chain connecting Celaena to Chaol was not a mating bond. You're doing my work for me.

Golden chain is pretty romantic though, maybe a nod to how they might have been right for one another in a different life where there was no such things as fae mating bonds. Much more romantic than "he hadn't gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to".

You all get so fixated on your multiple books of buildup while forgetting that Sarah J Maas will take many beautiful moments between two characters and throw them out the window in favor of who she wants to be endgame.

Dorian and Chaol had way more moments with Celaena than Az has had with Elain but in the end, they didn't matter.

Like SJM said, it's not about "want" but is about who the FMC needs to be with in order to have the most growth.

"There is a darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to".

[nyxreads]

2 + 2 = 5 ACOTAR SHIPWAR EDITION

Azriel questions the Cauldron + he wants the mated Elain Archeron = Azriel only wants a mate and Elain is the one available

Azriel spends time with Elain, rescued her, and kept her gift on his nightstand while looking at it for one whole year + Elain giving Azriel the offer and permission, didn't balk from him and called his hands beautiful = Azriel is an incel who only lusts after Elain, after one fvck he'll end up with the redhead

Elain who tracks the Suriel, foreseen Vassa, helped on planning where to place humans during the war, kicked a beast, volunteered on tracking the Dead Trove, and killing the KoH + Elain gardening, baking, and having friends on the NC = Elain is useless plant, she's passive, she plays no part on the series, only sulking.

Elain, a fae not a plant + Elain living in Night Court where sun also exists = Elain needs a sunlight!! She should live in the Spring/Autumn court! .

three mountains, three villains, three dead trove, three trials, and so and so forth + three brothers x three sisters = OMG so cliche, I hate it! I want them all to end up with their mate because it's not cliche.

Azriel desires Elain + Azriel cannot sleep properly thinking about her = oh he's sooooo toxic! He should end up with a redhead bcs she can fix him!

Azriel bought the necklace for Elain + Azriel just wanted to get rid of it, advise Clotho to even give it to other priestesses = he gave it to Gw*n! It is for her, he bought it for her♥

Elain minding her own life, gorgeous and growing. + Azriel being a total simp = He deserves someone better!! Someone I can self-insert with

Elain stabbed a king, kicked a beast that's harming them, and "I hope they all burn in hell", "she's better at secret keeping" + Azriel = He deserves better! A badass, someone who can weild a sword, we need another training lovestory!

Azriel in his full rage ready to die to save Elain + Azriel telling Cassian they trained the Valkyries so let's go save the enemy = MATES!! GW***** ENDGAME!!

Elain making Azriel laugh, Feyre never heard such deep and joyous sound, Elain calling his hand beautiful, Elain "put it on me" Archeron + Azriel always reaching for her, Azriel who made her comfortable, Azriel "this is wrong, I don't care" Archeron = They're incompatible! They don't make sense! I don't find them romantic.

Elain balked from her mate, tried to be nice but still visibly uncomfortable, Elain who's book is not out yet, Elain who was never given a choice. Elain, a woman. + Lulu, hundred year old fae, not a baby. = I hate Elain! He owes Lulu everything! She's so pick me! She should just accept the mating bond and make my Lulu so so happy, he deserves it.

Azriel who has a secret feelings for Elain + Az who doesn't consider G a friend = he's such a fvckboy! He's so toxic ugh, he needs to apologize to them and then end up with G♥

Acotar, a romantasy + Elain who has two love interest = Elain should end up alone! She needs it to grow.

Elain, existing, being gorgeous and minding her own business, Elain being a woman in this series + Azriel and Lucien simping = She doesn't deserve both of them! She should be with her sister's abuser!! Tampon needs a redemption so

Ianthe, Tamlin, Beron, KoH, all abusive and villains + Elain, the sister who owns up to her mistakes and tried to fix her relationship with her sisters. Elain who is hopeful and kind. Elain who is a quiet dreamer = Elain deserves to be the most hated character, she's so useless.

Acotar a fantasy book where the dead came back to life, so any magic can happen + SJM, who's adopted and loved her adaptive parents. Sjm who wrote books empowering women. = Elain doesn't have a pliant bone!! She cannot have Az baby so not endgame 😕

Elain and Azriel exchanging meaningful looks, brushing fingers, Azriel following the sound of her laugh, something charged between them, Elriel confirmed to desire each other + Az regifting a necklace because it reminds him of what happened between them, causing him pain = ACOSF ended Elriel

This is just one of the many arguments where a simple canon was twisted to fit on the wanted narrative. This is not how a story goes. A reader cannot control or forced the author on what they want to happen. Think of what the character can bring to the story, how they can make an impact and if they can move the plot forward. It will be very hard to enjoy a series if we keep on denying what's written on the books. Sjm has been clear. She could place other character on Azriel position or vice versa but she didn't. There's so many parallels between Elriel and sjm endgame couples. There's so many hints but the fandom twisted it because they simply hate Elain. They thought she's not deserving of love, of her own choice.

At the end of the day, Elriel is hated because some people cannot accept Elain is going to end up with Az and they thought she's less than for so many reasons they believed. It all rooted from internal misogyny.

So many lies/misinformation and total crap was spread in this fandom all because of Elain hate

How can you continue a series when you filled yourself all the lies and hate towards the character?

[nikethestatue]

Chaotic Reading of the Azriel Bonus Chapter

So I meant to do this a while back, but just never got to it. Made my BF read Azriel's bonus chapter and the HOFAS bonus chapter.

(He knows names of characters--Elain, Azriel, Cassian and Nesta. He doesn't know who Gwyn is. He is generally only interested in Cassian, because 'he is strong and handsome' and looks like him. Doesn't exactly know who Rhys is, but knows the name and knows that he is in charge. Also he calls Rhys 'the main wizard'. For some reason he thinks that Fae are wizards. So here you go.)

Recorded reactions:

Oh, he depressed. Why? He didn't like his Solstice gifts?

Cassian is pounding Nesta, isn't he?

Oh, there she is! Who is she? Oh Elain! Hi pretty girl! Emo boi is into her for sure.

Is she into him? Because why? He is kind of boring. Is Cassian a one woman man?

Ohhh, he wants to tap that!

Oh, he really wants to tap that!

What the hell kinda weird gift is this? Babe (this is directed at me), don't give me ear plugs for Christmas.

Eat that pussy bruh!

Is he gonna bite her? he should bite her!

It's a cute gift. He could've gone a little flashier though. Maybe throw in a diamond and a ruby.

Oh, look, she is offering it on a silver platter!

Wait, why is this guy here?

Wait? he is not gonna eat that pussy?

Where. Is. The. Smut?

Bruh is a cock blocker on steroids. Wait, who is Lucien?

Why do we care about Lucien? (I explain briefly)

Blood Duel sounds rad.

Elain is stepping out with the emo Azriel on her mate. (laughs) They sound Australian! (proceeds to say 'mate' a lot in an Australian accent)

Is there gonna be a blood duel?

I feel like there is a lot of teasing in this chapter.

Oh, he is cold. He just went 'this was a mistake?!!" Yea, girls love hearing that.

Who is Mor? An ex? Oh, it's that chick you don't like. I feel you.

Babe (addressing me), this Azriel of yours has no game. This Rhys guy the Grand Wizard just told him to back off and he backed off? Who does that?! That pussy isn't gonna lick itself. Poor Elain. I hope she throws that necklace back in his face. Can I blood duel the shit out of him?

Don't like him at all!

(I correct him and tell him that Rhys is a High Lord not a Grand Wizard (that would be the KKK))

*mutters under his breath* He is acting like a Grand Wizard!

Yeah, be depressed emo boi! Who leaves a lady hanging like that?

Yeah, well, she is better off with Cassian anyway.

Does Elain have special powers? Can she burn him or something? Or Rhys? Rhys needs to mind his own business. Wait, back up. Lucien is in the same house? She doesn't like Lucien, does she? (laughs)

So if they kissed, they'd just do it in the living room for everyone to see? That's bold of them.

This chapter is very frustrating.

Emo boi needs self-esteem classes.

Who the hell is she?

Is he into her too?

Noooo, he is not into her! What bloody memory? Did they fight?

Why is she cutting the ribbon on Christmas?

Is she like a nun?

Wait, he lives in a convent with nuns?

Oh she is a priestess? Of what? Is she a nun?

(Explain to him that she is not a nun)

But he lives with a bunch of nuns?

(Explain the layout of the House of Wind)

He is into Elain, so I guess he doesn't care. Also, this setup is weird. Does he not have an apartment? Wait, he lives with Nesta and Cassian? Like roommates? Or is this a menage? No, it's not a menage, right? Because he wants to eat Elain out--and DIDN'T (kind of yelling at this point)

(Explain it's not a menage. But Nesta wouldn't mind if it were)

Okay, this conversation is boring.

He sings? Like in a band?

Oh, this is like "Kill Bill". Emo Azriel is Pi Mei. He is teaching her to kill people. I can respect that.

...This chapter is weird. Why is this part even here? Is she gonna cut the ribbon?

All I am imagining right now is Gwyneth Paltrow cutting a ribbon with a sword. (laughs)

Nope, she did not cut the ribbon.

(proceeds to offer a lengthy explanation on how difficult it is to cut a ribbon like this. I am forced to listen.)

Azriel can cut a ribbon! I think SJM legit stole this whole training idea from 'Kill Bill'. Didn't the Bride have to cut a ribbon too?

(He is not wrong)

Okay, so..........now he just leaves? What was the point of this whole part with her? I don't get it.

Ahhhhh, my girl! She left that necklace for him to find! Yeah, you go girl, feminist queen!

Not even gonna ask about this snowball fight. Is this like a cutsey thing they do?

Ohh, who is Clotho? Is she like Fate? Why are the seven bells singled out? Does it mean something? She can't talk? Aww she feels bad for him. Well, she shouldn't! (said aggressively)

I feel like this necklace is more than just a necklace. Do they explain it later?

(No)

Okay, so he just gives it away? Oh god. Please don't say Clotho is going to give it to Gwyn!! No. No. That's weird.

So wait, that's it?

This is what you guys have been fighting over for three years? (laughs) That's stupid (he is not wrong) But what are you fighting over? That he should've beaten Rhys's ass?

(no, some say that he is into Gwyn because of the last line)

Like romantically? (asks incredulously) What are you fucking stupid?

(decisively)

As a man, I can tell you he is not into her. If you are gonna give a woman a gift, you don't go through others. You want to see her reaction. You want to see her smile. You want to put it on her. The first part did it right. Not sure what the purpose of the second part was, but I hope he and Elain get some kind of a resolution, but he needs to ask for forgiveness. And so does Rhys. Does Gwyn cut the ribbon at some point?

(Yes)

Good for her. Now she can go and start avenging shit, like the Bride.

Final question, does he eat Elain's pussy at some point?

(No)

She should ask Cassian. He'd do it. And do it well.

The End

[lovemyromance]

Im curious about your take on how azriel is “overprotective”

I honestly don't understand how we got to this point where a male love interest being protective is a bad thing. Overprotective, sure. But I don't think any of the bat boys are overprotective.

There are really two parts to to understanding this argument:

Azriel's protectiveness

Elain's personality/character itself

Let's begin:

Azriel's protectiveness

Homeboy is protective, no one can deny this. But he is protective of them all. He attacked Eris to defend Mor's honor, he is Mr. "Careful how you speak of my High Lady", he handles even Nesta with the utmost care and respect. If there is danger, I'd sooner believe he'd throw himself into it rather than it get close to any of his pretty friends' heads.

But there is a difference between him, and let's say, Tamlin for example. Tamlin literally locks up Feyre in her room, doesn't let her train her own powers, keeps her far away from courtly affairs.

And I know what you are going to say - "Oh, but Azriel stopped Elain from scrying for the troves" - um yeah, no shit.

The Cauldron literally kidnapped Elain? You think he's going to let that dangerous thing in her presence again? He snarls at Eris everytime he shows his face, you think he's going to let that evil crockpot anywhere near her?

It's not like he said "Elain can't train." or "Elain should be locked up in a tower". All he said was, "Elain should not be exposed to that darkness". Which - brings me to my second point.

2. Elain's entire character

Elain is not a warrior. She does not want to be violent. She has no desire to train like her sisters, but she does want to be helpful. There are ways to be helpful without physically going into the Bog or Prison or fighting on the frontlines of battle.

But again, she is untrained. Even if she does want to be helpful, nobody is willing to send her into a situation that might turn violent without any training. They are not willing to risk losing her, because of what happened last time.

The IC is even more protective of Elain as a whole because of who she is. It is not a stretch that Azriel, someone who cares dearly for her, is also protective of her.

And again, let's not forget that all of the bat boys are protective over their women. If we keep reading past when Azriel says, "Elain should not be exposed to the darkness of the troves", you will see Cassian protest and ask "and Nesta should?"

Even Cassian is reluctant to let Nesta be exposed to that darkness. The difference is in Nesta & Elain's core personalities, more so than the protectiveness of Azriel and Cassian. Elain will pick up a dagger as the last resort only to defend someone else/herself, but Nesta? Nesta will charge at you with her sword, probably even if you look at her wrong.

That's the difference. It's not a question about protectiveness, it's about currently, what is Elain capable of.

Azriel is protective of Elain, as he should be. In case you forgot, he was the one who saved her from Hybern's camp. His wings were shredded, he was swaying on his feet, he was warned he would die, but he still went after her. Of course he would be afraid to let that Cauldron anywhere near Elain after that.

And by the way, that is the only instance the anti-s are using to call him "overprotective" and "he stifles her, doesn't let her do anything".

Azriel may not be shoving her off a cliff to fly (sorry Feyre lol), but he is still giving Elain the tools she needs to grow. Azriel is the one who figures out she is a Seer, freeing her from her murky realm and depression. Azriel saw her, understood her, when everyone else including her own sisters and mate saw her as crazy. Azriel gives her his own dagger (the one he NEVER let anyone else touch), to defend herself. Azriel sits with her in the garden, allows her to feel peace and calm.

I think SJMs past male love interests have created a kind of blueprint in the mind of antis, so much so that they are unable to comprehend a different kind of relationship, a different kind of love. Just because Rhys sends Feyre into the Weaver cottage with a "good luck lol" and Rowan punched Aelin in the face, doesn't mean all her MMC have to have the same brutish approach. Have they ever considered that love can be shown in different ways?

Even in HOFAS, Hunt cautions Bryce and voices several times how they should just give up in their plans against the Asteri. Is he being overprotective? Is he stifling Bryce? No. He is simply trying to keep the person he cares about alive and safe. Because he loves her.

Love can be spending time with the one you care for, in small quiet moments in the background, in the garden. Love can be soft embraces under the cover of the darkness, where only the Mother may witness them.

Like, I thought it was obvious.

[merymoonbeam]

Truth-Teller's Scabbard

Just some quotes and me obsessing over where the name come from.

But the second male, the more classically beautiful of the two … Even the light shied from the elegant planes of his face. With good reason. Beautiful, but near-unreadable. He’d be the one to look out for—the knife in the dark. Indeed, an obsidian-hilted hunting knife was sheathed at his thigh, its dark scabbard embossed with a line of silver runes I’d never seen before (acomaf)

Azriel’s knife was out, balanced on a knee. Truth-Teller— the name stamped in silver Illyrian runes on the scabbard. He’d already learned that the Attor and a few others had been stationed on the outskirts of the Illyrian territory. I was half tempted to dump the Attor in one of the war-camps and see what the Illyrians did to it. (acomaf- rhys' mind)

Elain’s eyes widened at the obsidian-hilted blade in Azriel’s scarred hand. The runes on the dark scabbard. “It has never failed me once,” the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. “Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.” He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.” (acowar)

Az ran a thumb down Truth-Teller’s black hilt, the silver runes on the dark scabbard shimmering in the light. “What about the human queens?” (acofas)

It is said to be carved in illyrian runes...so who carved them there? Why "Truth-teller"? What truth it tells? Bc so far in the story it didn't do anything that leads to a truth reveal? Or it did? Elriel tt scene? It was the bridge between them? Is it telling us the "truth" about elain and azriel?

But still...who carved those runes there? Enalius?

My father had never shown himself to be giving—long had he kept Gwydion and never once offered it to my mother. The dagger that had belonged to his dear friend, slain during the war, hung at his side, unused. But not for long.

The Asteri’s eyes flared with recognition at the long blade. “Did Fionn send you, then? To slay me in my sleep? Or was it that traitor Enalius? I see that you bear his dagger—as his emissary? Or his assassin?”

He was the first wielder of it so did he carve them there? But why? Does it have something to do with ramiel? Because Gwydion was made on top of ramiel and they are twin blades...so tt is also connected to ramiel. So...maybe we need to take it there.

The snows around Ramiel parted, revealing a massive bowl of iron at the foot of the monolith. Even through the vision, its presence leaked into the world, a heavy, ominous thing.(Hofas)

Another shift of memory, and Fionn pulled a long blade from the Cauldron, dripping water. A black blade, whose dark metal absorbed any trace of light around it. Bryce’s knees weakened. (hofas)

The only other truth name we have was about a location—a room. Dusk's truth. Is it going to be another location? A room? Maybe it is under ramiel like that dusk room was under Asteri's palace. But what truth is it going to reveal?

And "it will always strike true" as Azriel said it ...maybe it is not a magical word about the blade but actually strike through a truth...truth teller...strike the truth??!?! Like Bryce did with TT and gwydion in those caves under Avallen??

Bryce peered down at the eight-pointed star in the center of the room. The two strange slits in the points. One small, one larger. She looked at the weapons in her hands: a small dagger, and a large sword. They’d fit right into the slits in the floor, like keys in a lock.(Hofas)

Maybe we have to do the same...so strike the truth. (I dont even know lmfaooo)

also interesting myth connection...In athurian legends excalibur has a scabbard that is important.(I went into detail in this post about the connection of gwydion and tt to excalibur)

In the Post-Vulgate version, used in Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur for the second Excalibur, the sword's scabbard is also said to have powers of its own, as any wounds received while wearing it would not bleed at all, thus preventing the wearer from ever bleeding to death in battle. For this reason, Merlin chides Arthur for preferring Excalibur over its sheath, saying that the latter is the greater treasure.

And it is actually stolen from Arthur by Morgana.

The scabbard is, however, soon stolen from Arthur by his half-sister Morgan le Fay in revenge for the death of her beloved Accolon, he having been slain by Arthur with Excalibur in a duel involving a false Excalibur (Morgan also secretly makes at least one duplicate of Excalibur during the time when the sword is entrusted to her by Arthur earlier in the different French, Iberian and English variants of that story). During Morgan's flight from the pursuit by Arthur, the sheath is then thrown by her into a deep lake and lost. This act later enables the death of Arthur, deprived of its magical protection, many years later in his final battle. In Malory's telling, the scabbard is never found again. In the Post-Vulgate, however, it is recovered and claimed by another fay, Marsique, who then briefly gives it to Gawain to help him fight Naborn the Enchanter (a Mabon figure).[32]

So it is stolen by morgana...and thrown into a deep lake and it is lost. And this leads to Arthur's death in his last battle bc he doesn't have the scabbard anymore to stop him from bleeding...

Ngl there is a pretty sus person who was very interested in Truth-teller in acosf...IDK...if you know you know...........

So thats it...thanks for reading 🫡🩷

[separatist-apologist]

A Lost Princess of Sunlight

Summary: Lady Elain has spent her life in the idyllic countryside wanting for nothing, so when her adopted sister Vassa begs her to accompany her to court, how can Elain say no? The roguish prince is in need of a wife and Elain, certain she'd make a terrible princess, has no interest in such theatrics.

But something about the palace brings back memories lost to the sea ten years before. Memories Elain had been certain she'd never get back…memories that speak of a colder place, and sisters long forgotten. Amid the tumultuous politics and the looming war, Elain finds herself embroiled in a mystery to find out who she really is.

And where she really comes from.

Note: HAPPY HOLIDAYS @writtenonreceipts! I hope you like this- I tried so hard to give it TOG vibes AND to incorporate nessian and feysand because you said you love them (and I in turn love you).

@acotargiftexchange

Major thanks to @velidewrites and @wilde-knight for the moodboard + beta-ing this fic when I was laying face down in a puddle of my own tears.

Read On AO3 | Chapter 1

-

In recent memory, Lucien couldn’t remember ever feeling fouler than he did that day, standing in the throne room between his parents to greet a personalized list of women his mother hoped might one day be her future daughter-in-law. Lucien had tried in the beginning, offering a smile as he kissed gloveless hands. He’d filed away names for later, trying to paste them against genuinely lovely faces.

He’d expected to meet five women—maybe ten. But this had been going on for hours and he’d lost count of how many women he’d been shown. Fifty? With more that had arrived that his mother deemed otherwise unacceptable and therefore weren’t worth his time or attention. They’d be looking for him, too. Lucien felt like a piece of meat dangled before a wild animal gnashing its teeth hungrily. 

“Mother,” he said when the doors closed, catching his parents before they could beckon for another. “Surely this is too much. Please.”

“It’s good for you to meet your future court,” his father said, drumming long fingers against an ivory carved throne. Gold crowned both his fathers dark head of hair as well as the back of the chair, making it seem as if the King of the West radiated pure sunlight. His mother was a vision just beside, draped in a cream dress and a threaded crown of gold woven through her vivid auburn hair. 

“Isn’t that what all the activities are for? I feel…” he couldn’t say it, couldn’t force those spoiled words from his lips. “I need some air.”

He could see their frustration etched over their features. Was this truly the life laid before him? Would he one day be sitting in his fathers chair beside a woman his mother arranged for him, their son between them? The thought made Lucien want to gag. He hadn’t asked to be a prince, after all and right then, resentment burned hotly through him.

“Take a breath, son—”

“I won’t,” Lucien interrupted, fingers curling to fists. It wasn’t the first time he and his father had disagreed, though it was the first time that his mother would witness it. “This is too much.”

“This is duty, Lucien. Or did you imagine it was all dress up and sword fighting with your friends? We are on the precipice of war and every man has converged on our home to demonstrate their loyalty to our family. You repay them poorly by scowling and acting like a tantruming child,” his father cautioned, gold eyes narrowed in warning. 

“They’re delusional if they think I’ll marry one of their daughters and elevate them far above their stations!” Lucien snapped, stepping from the dais to the swirling gold and gray patterned floor. “There are simply too many women and not enough time—”

“You will choose one of them,” his father said again, harsher this time. 

“Let’s not fight,” his mother interjected quickly, also rising to her feet. Biting her bottom lip, those russet eyes were swimming with apprehension. “Surely there is a compromise to be found.”

“Amera,” Helion chided, his tone softer than before. 

“If you want to pick a wife, I won’t stop you. Any available woman in this city can be yours…so long as you choose one before the end of the summer.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I will choose for you, based on your mothers recommendations,” his father snapped impatiently, crossing one powerful leg over the other. “There will be no more scheming or whoring, Lucien.”

“I know you were hurt when Lady Jes—”

“Don’t,” Lucien whispered, unable to hear his mother speak her name. “Please, mother. My heart can’t bear it.”

“There will be another, my sweet boy,” his mother murmured, reaching up to cup his face in her soft hands. Lucien pulled himself from her grasp, heart thudding in his chest. He hadn’t dared to ask if she was coming, too. He didn’t want to see proof that she could be happy with someone else. That she’d made the right choice in leaving and she’d been right—they didn’t belong together. “Any woman?”

His father pinched the bridge of his nose, recognizing Lucien’s intent but his mother was sincere. “So long as she is of southern birth, yes. Any woman.”

“Fine. I will bring you a daughter to dote on by the end of the summer if you free me from the obligation of choosing one specifically from your list.”

“You better take this seriously, Lucien,” his father warned, leaning forward to look at his only son. “Or it will be me who chooses.”

Lucien had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. His father would do whatever his mother told him to, and his mother would look out for Lucien’s happiness as best as she could. It wouldn’t be love, but it would be tolerable.

How delicious, he thought, to pick some commoner from the city. A woman who knew how to clean her own laundry, something Lucien had never been tasked to do. With the added bonus of keeping him out of the palace and the madhouse of his mothers machinations.

“I accept this arrangement. I won’t let you down,” he added to his mother, guilt pricking at his conscience. His father understood this was malicious compliance based on the hard set of his mouth but his mother’s eyes were shining with hope and Lucien so hated to disappoint her.

Perhaps his father was banking on his sons better nature because he waved him off. “Go get your air. I expect you at dinner tonight. Sober,” he added, guessing Lucien’s plans. 

Lucien exhaled a breath, slipping down a corridor and away from the madness that had befallen the palace. Jurian wasn’t hard to find, leaned against a pillar, arms crossed over his chest as he stared out toward the gardens.

“Washed hair?” Lucien began teasing his friend with a bump to the shoulder, “That must mean Lady Vassa has arrived.”

“She has,” he admitted, dark eyes nodding toward a mass of bouncy copper hair half hidden amongst the foliage. She was with a friend, back turned so Lucien only saw the long, thick tumble of loose golden brown curls and a lavender dress clinging to a slight frame. “Playing her favorite game, of course.”

“The one where she pretends you don’t exist? Has it occurred to you that perhaps she doesn’t like you?” Lucien asked, poking Jurian in his bare arm. “Maybe it’s time to move on.”

“That would show her, wouldn’t it?” Jurian muttered. 

“Here,” Lucien said, stepping from the veranda onto the stone laid path that wound through his mothers rather impressive garden. “I’ll say hello for us both. You can stand beside me silently brooding. I’m certain that will win her affection.”

“You’re a bastard, you know that?”

Lucien only grinned, swaggering as he made his way toward the pair of giggling women. There was no possibility either of them didn’t know Jurian was approaching, though Vassa was the first to look at Lucien. Beautiful as always, with her full mouth, her pert nose, and those big, cerulean eyes brimming with mischief. He liked her, if only because she was so unafraid and unimpressed by him. Lucien imagined if he asked Vassa what she thought of him, she’d tell him frankly and without an ounce of flattery.

Lucien opened his mouth to tell her she was looking lovely. “You look…” The words died on his lips as her friend turned at last, looking up at him with the biggest set of brown eyes he’d ever seen in his life. The tumble of her hair, the slope of her neck, the way her mouth was shaped…Lucien’s palms began to sweat.

She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. How had he never met her before? Who was she? 

“Stunning? Perfect? Like the woman of your dreams?” Vassa’s voice cut through the buzzing in Lucien’s ears. He couldn’t take his eyes off her friend long enough to even respond to Vassa. Instead, he found himself sweeping into a deep bow, all the while holding her gaze. 

Her cheeks flushed but when she tried to curtsey back, Lucien was quick to catch her hand, brushing his lips over her knuckles. She smelled like jasmine and honey. She looked like a daydream. Perhaps the heat had finally gotten to him and this was an angel coming to usher him into the afterlife. 

“This is my sister,” Vassa told Lucien, her amusement burning. Beside him, Jurian coughed pointedly, a mere blur to Lucien. “Elain.”

“Elain,” Lucien replied before Vassa’s words settled. “Since when do you have a sister?”

“Since always,” Vassa retorted, arms crossed over her verdant dress. “Sorry you’re so unobservant you never noticed.”

“I would remember you,” Lucien insisted, memorizing the shape of her face. “Where have you been hiding?”

Cheeks flaming, Elain’s eyes slid to her feet. “I ah…”

“She doesn’t come to court precisely for this reason, my lord,” Vassa interrupted, unaware Lucien was moments from throttling her. “Vultures, the lot of you. Men are so obsessed with finding wives they can’t allow a lady even a moment of peace in the garden.”

Jurian barked out a laugh, causing Elain to jump back just a little. “I prefer the quiet of the countryside,” she said, her voice somehow more beautiful than her face. Lucien wanted to bathe in it, wanted to close his eyes and listen to her speak. And it was becoming increasingly clear she did not want to be anywhere near him based on the way she looked as though she might bolt at any second. 

“I’m glad you made it,” he said, releasing her hand with great reluctance. “That both of you made it.”

“Oh, I’m certain you’re so delighted to see me,” Vassa chided playfully, thrusting out her own hand so Lucien could give her a similar kiss. He did, grinning like an idiot while watching her companion from the corner of his eye. Let her see he wasn’t a threat—that he was charming, and funny too when he wasn’t struck dumb. 

“If you knew the day I’d had, you’d know just how grateful and relieved I am to see you.”

“Do you need me to check your ego, prince? You’re not that handsome, you know.”

Lucien tipped his head back to laugh, genuinely delighted for the first time all day. He needed to hear that and perhaps wanted Elain to see that he could laugh at his own expense. He was a prince, sure, but also the kind of man she could tease a little.

But when he looked back, Elain was still watching with a carefully guarded expression. 

“And how have you been, Captain?” Vassa asked, finally turning to look at Jurian. 

“I count the minutes you’re away,” Jurian replied dryly. Lucien swore Vassa’s cheeks flushed and a touch of shyness slid over her features. Just for a moment. Just long enough for Jurian to catch too. Her father would never allow this match—Lucien knew for a fact Lord Koshington was looking for someone for his daughter. Perhaps them both. Lucien could ask for either woman if he wanted but Jurian would never be able to convince a lord of Koschington’s merit for the hand of his only daughter and heir. Whatever man Vassa married would be entrusted with the estate and Jurian, for all his accomplishments, was simply not the sort of man Koschington envisioned for her.

Lucien suspected Vassa would do her duty and marry as she was told to while carrying on an affair with Jurian as so many other ladies at court did. That was an open secret no one did much about so long as there were no disputes over it. Occasionally some errant husband would become enraged and kill another noble, giving them all something to gossip over while Lucien’s father dealt with the headache. 

If Vassa asked him, though, he could have interceded on her behalf. Perhaps he could make Jurian nobility if he went to his father shamefaced and apologetic and agreed to be a better son. Lucien’s gaze cut to Elain. She was a lady, wasn’t she? Southern born, which was the only true criteria his mother had laid down. Perhaps, he reasoned, he could use his marriage as a bargaining chip for both Vassa and Jurian.

He’d elevate one daughter to a princess and in exchange, Koschington would allow the other to marry his Captain, now Lord of some tract of land further north. Of course, that all hinged on Lady Elain even wanting him and as they stood now, things looked bleak for Lucien. Not to mention if he had such a visceral reaction to this woman, perhaps he would to others that were more agreeable.

Still. It was a thought he wasn’t willing to wholly discard. Not yet. 

“I’m sure you two are incredibly busy,” Vassa said, still looking at Jurian. “We should—”

“Will you be at dinner tonight?” Lucien blurted out, once again looking—and speaking—to Elain. Her eyes widened, glancing over at Vassa to answer for her. 

“Only if you promise us a good table.”

“Consider it done,” Lucien said, sweeping into another bow. It was an instinct that told him when true danger was approaching. Some call in his blood, a pull that turned his usual heat to ice. 

Eris was near.

He could feel the prickling on the back of his neck, the awareness that he was being watched much the way prey must feel when a predator was near. He didn’t want to be caught here by Eris—didn’t want this showdown to happen in front of a woman he might want to court.

“Until this evening, then.”

Vassa merely waved him off, looping her arm through Elain’s to guide them further into the foliage while he and Jurian watched, both enamored. Just until the rounded a corner and Lucien could shake off whatever spell Elain had unwittingly cast.

It was like a bucket of cold water poured over his head.

“Eris is near,” he said, his voice slipping into a growl. Jurian cast one last love-lorn look in Vassa’s direction before setting his jaw.

“Well. Let’s give him a southern welcome.”

Lucien grinned. “After you.”

The moment Elain and Vassa were out of earshot, Vassa immediately burst into laughter. 

“Stop it,” Elain chided, bewildered and a little embarrassed. The prince—the actual prince—had been gaping at her like he’d never seen a woman in his life. Elain hadn’t expected to meet him so close. He was handsome, just as Vassa had promised, though she’d undersold how attractive he was. Even with the trio of brutal scars raking down one of his russet colored eyes, gouged so deep into his cheeks they still seemed fresh, Lucien was easily the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. Beautiful in a dangerous sort of way.

Beautiful and he knew it, had been told so his entire life. Something about that annoyed her. She didn’t want to be another fawning woman, delighted he’d paid her a moment of interest.

Exhaling, Elain rounded on her friend. “You couldn’t say one nice thing to Jurian?”

“No,” Vassa replied quickly, some of her amusement fading. “I wouldn’t know how.”

“He’s handsome.”

“As handsome as the prince—”

“That’s enough,” Elain interrupted primly. “The prince is not hurting for beautiful company. I doubt he will be thinking of me come this time next week.”

“And if he is?”

“Then I shall disabuse him of the notion,” Elain replied, biting her bottom lip. “I have no interest in being an amusement and later discarded when he grows tired of whatever country charm he imagines I possess.”

“Oh, but how fun to watch him run himself ragged for your affection. You’re better off just letting him trail after you for a few days—the longer you resist, the more he will imagine you as his great love.”

“You’ve read too many novels,” Elain complained, reaching for a pretty pink rose. The petals were satin against her fingers, the scent of it sweeter than she remembered. Perhaps there was magic in Rhodes that didn’t exist in the country. 

Or perhaps she, too, had let romantic notions cloud her senses. 

“Maybe. If I…” biting her bottom lip, Vassa faced Elain fully. “If I told you something, would you swear yourself to secrecy no matter what you heard? No matter how much trouble it would cause for you?”

“Of course,” Elain swore, standing upright again. “Anything you need, consider it done.”

“Father is never going to let me leave the city unmarried. He hopes, distantly, the prince might finally show some interest in me beyond friendship but realistically he intends to shop me around to other lords who are suitable enough. I’m being allowed a small taste of freedom but by the time the summer wanes, he’ll have me married and he’ll be looking at you, too. 

“It will take time and he’ll need the kings blessing. As long as the Sun King is preoccupied with his son, he’ll move slowly on everyone else. If I had a mother, perhaps she might appeal to the queen… and I need to take advantage of it.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

Vassa shot Elain a confident smile that didn’t meet her eyes. She was scared. “It is my hope that Jurian will make an offer of marriage. And if he does…I intend to accept. To marry him in secret and ruin myself before father ever learns. There is nothing you can do to help me, nor could you stop me. I just…wanted you to know that I brought you here because I wanted us to have one last summer together. And perhaps I was hoping you might find someone and I wouldn’t have to feel so guilty leaving you behind.”

Elain flung her arms around Vassa, burying her face in her friend's neck. “Don’t worry a jot about me. I’ll be fine. And your secret is safe with me—if anyone asks if I knew, I’ll lie so convincingly it’ll make the gods weep.”

Vassa hugged her back, exhaling a warm breath against the skin of Elain’s newly exposed neck. “I knew I could count on you. Let's speak no more about it—Jurian hasn’t asked and maybe he won’t. For now, let's discuss what we’ll wear to dinner tonight. Something that will ruin Prince Lucien’s evening.”

“You’re a menace. Do you know that?”

They spent the rest of the afternoon giggling through the garden, all talk of Jurian and Lucien banished from conversation. In truth, Elain forgot about the prince entirely by the time she reached their shared chamber to wash away the sweat of the day and to change. The clothes she’d brought with her had been neatly hung in a nearby closet along with a row of new gowns likely purchased on her behalf by some harried servant. Elain laid a few out on the bed before deciding it was far worse to be the only person out of fashion in a room filled with worldly ladies than it was to worry so much about modesty.

Besides, the gowns hid everything—they merely lacked so many of the stiff layers she was accustomed to. Elain wouldn’t pretend she didn’t like the ability to button herself rather than needing two servants to help get her into her layers and tie everything up, even if she did feel a tad exposed in the silken jade gown she found herself in. Wishing she’d paid more attention to how everyone else was dressed, Elain elected to leave half her hair down with pins in her little wristlet, just in case she had to quickly pull it up. 

Vassa was waiting in the wide, marble lain halls in a gown of violet that looked utterly stunning against the golden brown of her skin. If Elain was terribly out of fashion, her friend surely would have said something, but instead she looped her arm through Elains and began walking her through the palace. 

Vassa had been before enough times to know the layout, allowing the pair to dawdle as Vassa pointed out paintings she thought Elain would enjoy and or explained what marble bust belonged to what long-dead king. There was something deeply thrilling about seeing the history of her home up close and personal—something that made her feel strangely proud to live there. 

A feeling that slid into anxiety the moment she and Vassa walked into the grand hall. Reproposed for a banquet, at least a hundred little tables dotted the expansive room, all facing the long, high table where the royal family would sit. The king was already there, a golden goblet dangling between his fingers as he surveyed guests pouring in.

Was it her imagination, or was he looking at her? Definitely her imagination, Elain decided. She wasn’t nobility, and Vassa’s family was minor nobility at that. Still…those golden eyes, set against warm, dark brown skin, seemed to stare right through her, seeing everything she was and everything she had ever been.

Someone she didn’t recognize approached the king, drawing his attention—which had never been on her—far, far away.

“We’re probably back here,” Vassa murmured, clasping Elain’s between her own. “If we get seated quickly, we can eat before anyone else.”

“I am starving,” Elain admitted with a breathless laugh. The entire thing was exhilarating, so decadent that Elain felt utterly alone in that room as she drank in the gilded walls, the high, arching ceilings and the glass windows that rose up to meet them. Beyond them, Elain could see the placid sea, brighter than any blue diamond and clearer than any sky.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Prince Lucien appeared from seemingly nowhere, eyes bright. He looked…well. He was absurd in his beauty, so lovely in his gold trimmed blue jacket that

Elain’s teeth were set on edge. He’d braided the top half of his head, pulling it back with a leather strap that somehow made his cheekbones seem sharper, his jaw more defined. The rest of his hair curled loosely about his shoulders, longer than Vassa’s when her friend wore it unbound, though not half as curly. 

He was looking at her again and Vassa knew it.

“You’re much more accommodating this time than you were the last time I was here.”

“Give it time,” Lucien replied with genuine amusement. “When father begins one of his terrible speeches it will be nice to have someone nearby to rescue me.”

“You tease me,” Elain complained. As if she could rescue a prince from his wordy father.

Lucien placed a large, ringed hand against his heart. “Lady Elain, I would never.”

Elain doubted that given the twinkle in his russet eyes. Still, though, it was kind of nice to be the object of his interest, however short-lived she suspected it would be. Warmth flooded through Elain’s face, impossible to hide given how fair her skin was.

Lucien’s smile was laced with pleasure. “This way, ladies.”

Vassa merely rolled her eyes, bouncy curls blowing in a nearby breeze. Elain kept her eyes down, well aware everyone in the vicinity was looking at her. Oh, how she wished they weren’t—not like this, at any rate. It wasn’t that she hated being the subject of their attention, but she would have preferred it be because she was stunning in some new dress and not because the prince’s fingers were grazing her elbow. 

The table wasn’t just close—it was the first one before the high table—a seat reserved for people far more important than Elain and Vassa. They weren’t alone—Lord Koschington was already there flanked on either side by men at least a decade older than him. All three rose from their seats to bow to the prince before returning to their conversation, leaving Elain and Vassa awkwardly staring Lucien down.

“Well,” Elain finally said when she couldn’t stand it a moment later. “This was generous of you.”

“You’ll find I can be very generous, Lady Elain.”

“Just Elain is fine,” she promised, embarrassed all over again. 

“Well, just Elain, my generosity comes with strings, if that helps to put your mind at ease.”

“Oh? What strings are those?”

“Lunch with me? And if it goes well, a turn around the garden.”

Elain nearly said no. The urge was automatic. Something stopped her—the notion that if Lucien spent a few hours alone with her, he’d realize how woefully plain she was, how inept her social graces in comparison to other women. His interest would wane and she wouldn’t have to be firm with him at all. That was, truthfully, a best case scenario. 

So Elain nodded, lowering her eyes demurely. “That would be lovely.” Lucien’s delight radiated like pure light just beneath his skin. “You’ve given me something to look forward to.” And then he was gone, leaving Lord Koschington watching with curiosity and Ealin even more embarrassed than before.

“I’m not surprised he likes you,” Vassa began, but Elain wasn’t having it.

“Sit down,” she demanded.

Vassa only laughed. “Bossy. You’ll make an excellent princess.”

Rhodes.

Curling his upper lip, Eris glanced at the dirty streets beneath his gleaming boots. How he loathed the Southern Empire. The city itself was too self-satisfied with itself, certain they were the gods favored people. A blessed empire, having risen from the ashes of centuries of subjugation by the north. The scars for the people weren’t healed—it had been King Helion’s grandfather who’d shaken those chains and thirty years of bloody fighting just to establish a true home with recognized borders. Recognized, Eris thought bitterly, by his father and the late King of the Spine. 

Helion had ended that conflict, invading the north's once impenetrable capitol and genuinely terrifying the realm with the might of his military. If he could break down those walls and get inside, he could potentially cross the spine to the east or the desert to the west. He could have the whole of the continent if he wanted it.

Of course, Helion’s reign hadn’t come without its scandals. His victory cost a princess her life and Archeron his wife. It had also cost the west their queen when he’d stolen her away in the dead of night, declared her marriage to Beron Vanserra completed under duress, and married her himself. 

North and west had a reason to hate the south. Eris had never forgiven Helion for losing his mother and Nesta Archeron, heir apparent to the Northern throne, had never forgiven Helion for the loss of her mother and her younger sister. Eris had heard rumors of her fury.

But meeting her was another thing entirely. He’d made her no promises, of course…but he knew she was thinking the same thing he was—if they married, they could unite their kingdoms and turn their eyes to the south. They could eradicate Helion and take it, too, if they wished. And oh, how Eris wished.

The prospect of asking for Nesta Archeron was the only reason he’d accepted the invitation to the south. Might as well look around for himself. Helion would be looking for peace and his mother absolution, but Eris was looking for exploitable weaknesses. 

Something he could offer up to Nesta Archeron so she had no recourse but to tell him yes. It wouldn’t be love, but Eris didn’t require that. Didn’t want that. His would be a marriage of political convenience and if he needed genuine companionship, he could always take a mistress. 

So there he stood, soaked in sweat and angrier than he’d ever been as he stared up at the monstrosity that was the palace. His half brother was being fussed over—a golden prince Eris would keep alive as a political prisoner in his court, forcing Lucien to do his bidding with the threat of a sword hanging over his head.

It was Eris’s favorite daydream. The destruction of Helion’s court, the ruination of his empire, and his son and wife forced to live in Eris’s home under Eris’s rule. Despite himself, he smiled, ignoring the butler who wanted to give him a tour as he strode into the palace. He knew it well enough and didn’t want the royal family to know where he was until he was ready to make a grand entrance. 

Helion’s kingdom was said to house an impressive collection of knowledge and the rarest (and items stolen he didn’t want found) were housed within his personal collection within his palace. Eris had never been interested before, annoyed by the philosophers and scholars that inhabited these spaces. Old men obsessed with the sound of their own voices who had never been told their ideas weren’t interesting. 

But today was pure chaos and if the Sun Palace was anything like his home, everyone would be congregated wherever the wine was, neglecting their responsibilities under the deluded belief no one would find out. Eris took the stairs two at a time, eyes darting around him to be sure no one was watching.

Though if they were—and if he was caught—he’d simply feign ignorance. No one stopped him, allowing him to climb higher and higher, walking down halls with his hands jammed in the pockets of his cream colored pants. He opened bedroom doors like they belonged to him, ran his oily fingers over windows and paintings, and kicked over a potted plant just because it amused him to do so. 

And when he reached the room he’d come all this way to see—Helion’s famed library—Eris found it delightfully abandoned, just as he’d expected it to be. There were three more towering floors, attached to what he supposed was the highest tower of the palace. Spiraling stairs led to rows and rows of books unreachable even by the rather tall ladders. Desks and chairs on the first level were, he supposed, for scholarly pursuits that seemed to vanish once one reached that second level.

The third was entirely off limits to anyone but Helion’s most trusted. And they were gone, Eris thought, stepping through the arch way. The room itself could be hidden behind wooden ivory double doors carved with some brightly painted fresco of a heroic battle long faded from memory. 

Eris made it two steps before a woman materialized from a too-bright golden sunbeam pouring into the room. One moment he’d been walking toward items hidden from everyone else in the realm and the next a curved blade was pressed against his neck and his back was slammed against a wall. A slim knee slid between his legs, pressed threateningly against his manhood while a pair of vivid green eyes stared him down cooly.

“I’ll need to see your pass before you take another step,” she said. Eris blinked, taking in the shape of this woman. Thick waves of blonde hair cascaded down her back, tumbling against her shoulders and framing what was, objectively, a beautiful face. Her bronzed skin seemed to shimmer in the light as though dusted in sunlgiht and those eyes of hers—green and flecked with gold—were lightly lined in black kohl. 

“I don’t need a pass—” he began, utilizing the haughtiest voice he could muster given the position he found himself in. In any other circumstances, overpowering her would have been a simple thing.

But Eris wasn’t willing to risk his throat, nevermind his cock and balls. 

“You do,” she replied, both her knee and her blade pressing just a little rougher. 

“Don’t you know who I am?” he demanded. 

“Why don’t you tell me?” she challenged, one eyebrow raised as though it wouldn’t matter. He was going to see her personally punished for this, he decided. 

“Prince Eris—”

“Oh, a prince,” she interrupted, her voice dripping with disdain. “Well, why didn’t you say so? Do you have a pass?”

Eris was rarely speechless. But right then, looking down at a woman that was primed to kill him over a book, Eris found himself at a loss for words. 

“No,” he spat, outraged that some nobody was preventing him from snooping. And no one, in his life, had ever dared such defiance. This woman did, though. She didn’t care he was a prince or the queens eldest son. She merely saw an intruder and felt empowered to spill his blood against her feet if need be.

“I’m glad we agree. If I remove my knife from your throat, are you going to leave peacefully?” she asked, her tone dripping with condescension. Had they been home, Eris could have thrown her in a cell for that hateful look on her face alone, not mentioning the way in which she addressed him. 

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure,” Eris promised, his lip curling with disdain. To her credit, the woman stepped back, removing herself entirely from his body, though that knife remained between them. “I’ll see you punished for this.”

She smiled, smoothing one hand over the yellow of her dress. “Of course, your majesty.”

“You think I won’t?” Eris hissed, unsure why he hadn’t stormed out. Just leave. Fuck the last word. 

“Oh, I’m certain you will,” was her reply, eyes burning with amusement. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and the king will allow me the privilege of hearing your explanation as to why a future foreign king was skulking about a room filled with state secrets. Surely you must have known, but maybe they educated you poorly back home and you can’t read?”

Bitch.

“I can be wherever I like—”

“Wrong, majesty. You know, we hear rumors about you here. Of your…ambitions. I’m sure your impending marriage to a northern princess is mere gossip hardly worth the rags it's printed on, of course, and this little trip was merely an accident.”

Eris’s lips parted, an insult on the tip of his tongue. Who was this woman? Eris wanted her family name more than he’d ever wanted anything, if only so he could burn it from the face of the world. When he came marching into Rhodes with an army, she could be the first person to meet his sword. 

“Some people would think it was unwise, insulting a future king.”

Her eyes flicked to the knife in her hand. “I think some people might thank me for protecting my home. In fact, I think a parade might be held in my honor if you took another step toward me and fell on my knife.”

“Is that a threat?” he demanded.

She smiled. “I’m glad you noticed. I was starting to think these subtleties were flying right over your poor, illiterate head. Yes, your lordship. This is a threat. A wiser man would recognize he’d been caught and leave, but I can see you’re not wise and so perhaps I ought to spell it in simple terms you’ll understand: your mere presence in this room could be considered an act of war. Remove yourself, or I shall do it for you.”

Fuck her.

“This isn’t over.”

She followed behind as he turned on his heel, burning with an anger so hot it would have manifested as flame against his skin had he any magical ability. Eris could feel its heat shimmering off him, fingers curling and uncurling with the urge to teach her a lesson she’d never forget. She was no one, some lowly peasant made to feel important and elevated by a bastard king. 

Eris expected one last quip—turned around to face her. She flashed him a smile, those eyes still sparkling with amusement.

And then slammed the double doors in his face. On the other end, he swore he heard soft laughter though maybe he imagined it. Eris exhaled, overwhelmed and frustrated and furious all at once.

It wasn’t over between them.

Eris would have the last laugh.

Ellesmere was easily the worst city Cassian had ever visited in his life. Velaris was the best, of course, and Rhodes was nice if a little hot for his taste. He’d seen Allfeld once which personally was enough given how much pollen seemed to be in the air, though it had been autumn at the time and he’d quite liked the glittering jewel-top trees that dotted the sloping hillsides.

Ellesmere had no charm whatsoever. Only fog and a constant misting of rain that left Cassian damp beneath the leathered armor he wore. 

He’d put on wool socks to keep his feet dry that day, tucked into boots that were supposed to be waterproof and hoped for the best. Rhys was supposed to be out charming the nobles and who the fuck knew where Azriel had gone. By the time Cassian dragged his ass out of bed, Azriel was nowhere to be found and Rhys was agonizing over a lock of hair that wouldn’t lay just right. 

Cassian was grateful no one expected perfection out of him. He’d shaved his face—though the dark stubble would be back before noon—and pulled the thick, dark waves that cascaded to his shoulders into a half messy bun. Good enough.

Dumb brute, remember?

As if he could ever forget. At home, Cassian was a hero. People cared about the words that came out of his mouth, respected him as someone of  great intelligence. But out here, he knew what they saw. The other kingdoms must employ idiots to lead their armies, or something particular about Cassian gave off the impression he liked the taste of blood. And Cassian had never once tried to correct that notion given he did like a little blood smeared across his mouth. 

But it irked him at times, chafing against him like rough material against soft skin. 

He had a job—only one, at least, while he was trapped in this gloomy hellscape, which was to get a sense and scope of the military power Ellesmere commanded. How did they fight, how many of them remained, their tactics, their training. Anything Cassian could weaponize against them. Cassian needed them to believe he was one of them.

Less than, even. That he couldn’t take even a day off from swinging his swords when truthfully, were he back home, Cassian would have been parked at Ritas waiting for a massive plate of eggs and bacon. Ah, well. There would be more of that later, though he couldn’t help but feel like he was wasting the best weather Velaris had to offer to the rain. 

And breakfast wasn’t horrible, at least. He’d been allowed to eat alone given there was no expectation he would eat with the royals. Cassian picked through one of his books, wasting time hoping the weather would clear and the sun would come out, even if it didn’t warm the air. When it became clear he wasn’t going to get his wish, Cassian sighed, armed himself, and made his way toward the training yard housed within the palace walls. He’d seen barracks on his way in, tucked off in the distance, when he’d first come into the city. That was where Cassian really wanted to be. 

If Rhys did his job well, Cassian would be invited to watch them train and possibly train alongside him. It was ego the way so many cities assumed they had something to teach him. There was a reason Velaris hadn’t been invaded, though Cassian knew everyone loved to chalk it up to The Spine. The mountains were passable, their coast relatively undefended. There was little need, though they did have a Navy. 

Cassian was always waiting, sword in hand. 

Today, though, was just about seeing the best of the best. They’d be looking to impress him, knowing full well Cassian would tell Rhys. All in good time. Cassian liked to think he was clever enough to keep his mouth shut with a face that always seemed pleased right up until his sword was pressed against someones throat.

They expected that from Azriel. Maybe they expected that knife in the back from Rhys. But despite his titles, no one ever expected that from Cassian, though he was always the quickest to jump to bloodshed. 

Eloquence was Rhys’s domain. 

Cassian shuddered when he stepped outside, shaking out his hands to try and keep himself together. This period of time in his life would pass until he forgot it entirely. There was no way in hell he’d ever agree to return here and was grateful Rhys wasn’t actually interested in any of the princesses on offer. 

Cassian wished he could say the same. He’d half forgotten Nesta Archeron—could have forgotten her completely for the majority of the day, even—had she not been walking toward him in a well-fitted violet coat dress, the hood pulled over her face and lined with immaculate white fur.

Her fair cheeks were flushed from the chill or exertion, making those silvery eyes of her brighter by comparison. The scowl on her face couldn’t diminish the beauty that radiated from her and just like it had the day before, Cassian felt struck by her. Nesta’s whole person was its own blade at his throat, threatening to spill him open at any moment. 

She halted when she saw him, hands jammed into her pockets. Eyes narrowed with suspicion, he wondered if she’d speak to him. It was only after a moment of staring that Cassian remembered he probably ought to bow. That felt strange—Rhys had never required that and Helion was so casual it was cause for teasing if Cassian were to try. Something about Nesta demanded it, though, and so Cassian felt himself bending at the waist, one hand on his stomach. 

“You mock me?” she asked, unaware of the sincerity of his pounding heartbeat.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Cassian heard himself say, his every word laced with amusement rather than the reverence he felt. And though he was so much taller than her, Cassian felt small as Nesta approached, her spine ramrod straight. He wished he could convince her to come to Velaris and teach his soldiers that sort of posture. 

Hell, maybe she could teach him, too. 

“Where are you going?”

Straight to hell, he thought privately as he tried not to imagine what she was like when she liked a man. Jealousy gnawed at him knowing Rhys was here to court her, swallowed quickly before Cassian was consumed. Glancing at one of the hilts peeking over his shoulder, Cassian offered her another quick smile. “To train with your guards.”

She scoffed. “I should think one sword would be more than sufficient.”

“Oh? Something you want to tell me, princess?”

He hadn’t meant for his words to sound suggestive. Cassian was genuinely asking her—were they not capable of fighting off a warrior holding a weapon in each hand? But something about her made everything he said sultry and Nesta’s cheeks burned with heat. 

She was sweet. Cassian wanted to taste her. 

“Just…they’re more…” Nesta was flustered. He knew if he came any closer she’d take off like a skittish baby deer, fortifying herself for their next interaction. Put her at ease, a voice whispered in his head—it sounded suspiciously like Mor. So Cassian relaxed his posture, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. He was, afterall, just a man.

And he wasn’t a threat to her. Everyone else, perhaps—and one day she’d hate him for the part he was playing to keep her father from starting another war—but not her. 

“They’re mostly decorative,” Nesta finally said, coming back to her senses. “And I suspect you are the opposite.”

“Shrewd of you,” Cassian praised, taking in this information. “I would think the palace guards were the best your kingdom had to offer.”

She rolled her eyes. “If that were true, Feyre would be easier contained within its walls.”

Cassian filed that away, too. Where did the little princess run off to, he wondered? And why was Nesta telling him this? She didn’t strike him as the uncareful type. No, Nesta was giving him little crumbs he was certain were leading somewhere. The expression on her face was too well guarded for anything else. 

“And you?” he guessed.

Nesta only shrugged. “Where would I go beyond the palace walls, General?”

Cassian’s body went tight all at once. Fuck, but that voice… “Anywhere you like, I hope. Unless this is a cry for help and you’ve actually been held hostage?”

The faintest whisper of a smile spread over her features. Pretty thing. Cassian wanted to touch her and thought that was the quickest way to lose a hand. 

“My life is one of endless wonder,” she assured him, her voice dry and laced with sarcasm. “I am incandescently happy.”

“My apologies, my lady,” Cassian murmured, needing to get some air before he did something monumentally stupid. “Far be it from to cast aspersions on you and your life. But…if you find yourself wishing you knew how to wield a blade so you could…I don’t know…move more effectively in the world…you know where to find me.”

And then he kept walking, refusing to touch her as he passed though it was hell not to even brush a wisp of hair from her cheek. 

“Why would you do that?” Nesta asked when they were shoulder to shoulder, staring straight ahead. Cassian watched her from the corner of his eye. 

“You’ll need to know if you’re going to marry Rhys,” he replied, the words ash on his tongue. Nesta didn’t move.

“That’s it?”

“Maybe I want a reason to see you again.”

Her breath curled around her face like a shadow, vanishing in the gloomy morning light. “I’ll think about it.”

There was nothing Cassian could say that wouldn’t make him sound insane. So he nodded, clenching his jaw to keep his words leashed before he took off walking again. There was no reason to arm that woman—and every possibility she would take everything she learned and turn around and use it against them.

And yet the thought of Nesta pressing a blade against his throat was so erotic that Cassian had to lap around the garden twice before making his way to the training yard, later than he’d meant to be.

And still—it was worth it. 

[shadowqueenjude]

Hiiii!! First your posts give me life!!! I’m always waiting for the next one because I know you’re going to spit gems and speak facts 💁‍♀️.

I have a question/thought about the mates situation. People keep saying SJM will be exploring the rejected mating bond concept, specifically in Elain’s book….When did she say that? WHERE? From what I’ve seen and read, she did say it was an interesting concept (fate, mating bond vs agency and all that good stuff) but she also said she didn’t know if she would be exploring it in the future, let alone in Elain’s book or the ACOTAR series. So HOW in the world do people take that as a confirmation that she will absolutely do it in Elain’s book? Even the whole “what if the cauldron is wrong” argument. Well maybe she’ll use Elain’s book to demonstrate that in fact the cauldron is never wrong because it actually doesn’t decide anything. This frustrates me to no end.

Anyway, keep slaying Queen 💅!

My dear Anon, we shall have an Autumn wedding.

This is what SJM said:

“That’s something I find to be very interesting,” she replies. “What if the forces that be put you with the wrong person? Or what if you just decide, eh, I’m not interested. … There’s a lot to explore within the concept of mates and your agency about it. 

“I’m not going to say if I am exploring it in future books or not,” she continues, “but it definitely offers a wealth of things to explore with this concept of freewill and what is true love. Is it something that’s destined? Or is it something that you make? Is it both?”

She did NOT confirm that she would be exploring it at ANY point!!!! I do NOT know why people are acting like it is a guarantee.

What if the Cauldron was wrong? COULD be foreshadowing yes, but the answer is rarely that obvious LMAO. Amren told Nesta that there were other ways to fight beside a sword, but Nesta became a warrior. Most likely it's talking about Elain. So is it really so hard to believe that this is NOT talking about Elain at all, but someone else entirely?

The three most likely options for a rejected mating trope are as follows:

LoA-Helion: we get to explore the pain and angst of knowing a mate has married and had children with another, and dealing with the rejected trope for centuries, but will eventually get together in the end. SJM is not about to give Lucien's parents a tragic ending lmfao. And in her world, rejected mates=tragedy.

Mor-Eris: if we go in the direction that mating bonds can only occur between males and females and Mor and Eris are both gay, so they can never have feelings for each other. In which case we explore the difficulties associated with a bond that neither person wants yet the instincts are still there.

Tamlin-Amarantha: did anyone wonder WHY tf Amarantha was so obsessed with Tamlin? Like, I know he's hot and all, but goddamnit girl what the fuck? Now, if they were mates and Tamlin rejected her, it would make sense. It would also add more nuance to Tamlin AND Amarantha's characters, and we'd get to explore Tamlin's trauma post-UTM after being forced to reject and kill his mate and how that drove him a little mad.

But, the rejected bond is NOT a guarantee, so there may NOT be any rejected bonds. These are all just theories at this point. One thing I am CERTAIN of is that the rejected bond will CERTAINLY NOT be Elain and Lucien. Especially not when SJM dangled Gwyn in front of us. Now THAT one is fucking obvious lol.

[azsazz]

Cupid's Chokehold (Part 3)

Azriel x Reader

Summary: You are a Cupid, a nearly extinct creature of Prythian. When you get caught trying to shoot Elain with your arrow, well, it’s a little hard to explain what you’re trying to do.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2,267

[Part 1] [Part 2]

_________________________________________

You find yourself in the training ring again the next morning, later than the day before after finally getting a restful night’s sleep, having sensed no prying shadows in your chambers. 

You’d laid in your bed, finding yourself missing his presence. Just knowing that the attractive shadowsinger was keeping an eye on you, even if it were for intentions that weren't genuinely because he cared, settled you more than you’d like to admit.

Slumber had pulled you under easier than you’d thought nonetheless, and dreams of large membranous wings and scarred hands swirled in your mind. The ease of the male as he’d wielded that practice sword, taut muscles contorting with every move, looking like a lost God your kind had once worshiped. 

You’d have no trouble bowing before a male of his stature.

The ring is filled with females, more than you even knew resided within the home, all dressed in comfortable clothes and stretching their limbs, preparing for something. 

Nesta is there, looking much more gentle than she had at dinner a few nights ago, and there’s a word you’d never thought you’d use to describe the female. She’s laughing with two others, an auburn haired fae who reminds you of a sunny spring day, and an Illyrian female, who’s demeanor proves that she’s stronger than the wings folded tightly to her back.

You catch sight of Azriel and Cassian at the head of the group, conversing. A slight nod from the shadowsinger as he watches his brother before his gaze slides to you, standing at the top of the stairs, watching as the females get ready for their training session.

Cassian’s eyes follow Az’s, having watched the golden in his eyes light at the sight of you. He stifles his laugh and calls you over, a loud voice startling a few of the females in the sand. He sends them an apologetic look as you timidly make your way over to the two Illyrians.

“Good morning, Cupid,” Cassian greets with a cheesy grin that you can’t help but return. Out of the three brothers he is surely the most cheery, the cocksure male always with a joke or cheeky remark on the tip of his tongue.

From the corner of your vision you notice Azriel’s fists clenching, his shadows hovering around his shoulders, agitated as they rise, a sharp look cast at his brother.

You nod, “Good morning, Cassian,” you shift your gaze towards Azriel, “Shadowsinger.”

There’s a sting in Azriel’s chest as you refer to him as his title instead of his name as you did his brother. He doesn’t like it one bit, something swirling within him, jealousy perhaps. He can’t even speak, just tilts his head at you in response.

“How did you sleep?” the warlord asks genuinely, sensing the tension between the two of you. The family was still weary of you, but the male before you seemed less worried that you were here to shoot his sister-in-law than the others.

“Well, thank you for asking,” you give him a soft smile before you catch sight of the females each taking a sword from where the sparring weapons lived. “What’s all this?”

“Valkyrie training,” he responds, and at your confused look he explains. Azriel watches as your face changes from befuddled to awe stricken, gaze moving back towards the females that have started their warm-ups with the wooden swords. “Care to join?”

Your mouth opens and closes, unsure of how to respond. This is an incredible thing that his mate has started, but you swallow nervously, twisting your hands together and the action doesn’t go unnoticed by the shadowsinger. 

“I don’t know the first thing about fighting,” you admit, refusing to meet the warlord's eyes out of embarrassment.

“That’s not a problem,” his tone is easy, and he’s not going to force you if you don’t want to.

“Maybe I’ll watch before I make my decision,” you respond, attention glued to the females before you. They’re incredibly practiced and if you jumped in now you would surely be sticking out like a sore. “If that’s alright of course.”

Cassian shrugs, “Not a problem at all.”

So you watch intently, observing the numerous maneuvers the Valkyries make, looking like a powerful unit it leaves you in awe. The Illyrians are patient trainers, helping the females where they need it, asking for their permission before shifting their elbows higher or how to strike with the best use of their strength.

It’s quite amazing.

You find yourself gravitating towards the shadowsinger again. Something flutters in your stomach again as you watch the usually intimidating male, now gentler as he helps a small female fix her positioning as she swings the practice sword, a much cleaner cut now that she’s taken his direction.

By the time training ends you’re ready to join. The training would be helpful, should something ever happen to you, once you leave this court alone, but you’re nervous to try it out in such a large group.

You shyly make your way up to the shadowsinger, who is the last to leave the training ring, making sure all of the training swords are lined up nicely on the rack, ready for tomorrow's practice.

You don’t know what to say, how to ask, and you end up blurting out nervously, “Will you teach me how to fight?”

And the training had done nothing to calm his simmering anger from the interaction with you and Cassian, how you’d smiled at him.

“Why? I thought you don’t get caught?” he bites, refusing to meet your pretty eyes, knowing he’d melt beneath your stare.

Your cheeks flare red and your stomach drops. You should’ve asked Cassian instead. “Nevermind,” you say, shaking your head and spinning on your heel.

“Wait,” he grabs your arm, removing it immediately when you set sight on the marred flesh, but you can still feel it tingling after he pulls away. “Why do you really want to know?” His tone is a touch softer, sounding actually concerned for you.

“If I ever get caught like this again…” you shudder and his stomach drops. He’d done this to you, made you feel this way, scared for your life and not knowing if you’d make it out of his grasp alive. 

But you’re thinking of all of the stories you’d been told of your fallen sisters, how they’d been captured and killed, or worse, tortured and used. “I want to be able to get out of it.”

His face softens, and he realizes that you’re more like the priestess he’s come to know than he thought. 

And he had been the reason for your trauma.

You don’t expect him to agree but he does, and when you voice your concern for being in a large group, he offers you solo training instead, and it warms your heart more than he’d ever know.

__________

The following days are filled with nothing more than waking up early, training with Azriel before the Valkyrie’s arrive for their own sore muscles, and sleeping. You’d missed dinner a few times and found yourself meeting the shadowsinger in the kitchen of the house for breakfast most mornings.

He slides a plate over to you with a hearty helping of eggs, oatmeal, and fruit. You thank him softly, spearing a chunk of cantaloupe with your fork. Azriel is starting to enjoy his mornings, accompanied by you, all docile and gentle, utterly opposite from how you were in the training ring, fierce and ready for battle.

That feeling stirred within him once more and he shoved it deep down within him, dragging his gaze away from you down to his own plate.

Breakfast is eaten in comfortable silence and the twin wraiths take your empty plate from you, brushing off your protests to do it yourself.

You grumble on the way up to the ring with Azriel, who begins his own stretches beside you.

He’s more flexible than you thought a male of his build would be, and you find yourself more distracted by him than you’d like. 

Once you’ve both stretched and warmed up, he hands you a sword of your own. The one he’s seen you grow fond of like he has of his own sparring weapon, and you thank him graciously, your body warming that he’s noticed.

An hour into your training and he’s still blocking your onslaught of blows with ease, like he could do this in his sleep. Sweat drips down your brow as you strike again, the shadowsinger bating your sword away with his.

You need to work harder if you’re going to win.

You duck away from the dip of his blade and parry with your own, nearly knocking the sword out of his hand in a maneuver he knew he didn’t teach you. He had to give it to you, you were a quick learner, as if being a warrior was in your very blood.

You weren’t just the lover he’d learned your kind was.

But as you retreat slightly, putting a few steps of distance between the two of you, egging him on with a wild grin and a wave of your hand, it just means that he gets to turn it up a notch.

He attacks, letting his weapon clash against yours. You block easily, but notice too late that he’d meant to let you do that on purpose as his arm swings out, catching you around the waist, trapping you against his chest.

In a last resort you lift your blade, pressing the tip of the weapon between his shoulder blades, between where his wings meet his back, and your eyes widen as you feel the light press of his own sword between the meat of your own.

Stalemate.

You can feel his softly panting breath on your face and it makes your eyelashes flutter, proud that you’ve made him have to work for this, instead of all of the times you swore he never even broke a sweat with how easily he could beat you.

You revel in the feeling of his body pressed tightly against your own, your heart pounding in your chest. Azriel smells of charcoal and sage and sweat, and all you want to do is press up onto your tiptoes and taste him.

His golden gaze darkens as if he can sense what you want. His shadows circle the both of you leisurely, coiling tighter and tighter and he pulls his attention away just in time to pull them back before they wrap around the both of you, keeping you twined together.

“Tie?” you breathe and he nods in agreement. He doesn’t drop his weapon until you do, like the trained warrior he is, making his way to put the sword away.

“One of these days I’m going to win,” you say, breaking the tension, following him to return your sparring weapon to the rack.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes, “Right.”

“I am,” you protest playfully, tapping your sword against his own. He tightens his grip and you’re worried that he’ll start up another round of sparring but he just moves the weapon out of reach, giving you a look.

“I doubt that, considering I’ve had over 500 years of training and I let you draw with me today.”

“You did not,” your mouth slackens in shock. His eyes sparkle with amusement, taking the sword from your grasp gently, returning the two weapons to the rack. “You are so going to get it tomorrow!”

“Yeah? You’re going to give it to me?” he asks and you’re stunned again at the innuendo, the mirth in his tone, the smirk on his face.

“Yeah,” you sneer, fighting the blush threatening to paint your face red, “Right up the ass.”

His bark of laughter sets your heart on fire, warming your entire body.

“Have you ever shot someone in the ass?” he asks when he’s settled, genuinely curious.

“Maybe once or twice,” you let your cheeks pink this time at the sight of his wolfish grin, “But it was an accident!”

He hums, clearly unbelieving.

You shoot him a sour look, changing the subject quickly as he’s reminded you of your beloved weapon. You’ve missed it dearly and you haven’t ever gone so long without it. “When am I getting my bow back, anyways? I’ve been more than patient.”

“Whenever the High Lord deems it safe to,” Azriel shrugs, because he himself doesn't even know. He hadn’t brought it up to Rhys, his brother had other things to worry about. “What do you want it for? You’re not using it around here.”

You roll your eyes, letting your annoyance show on your face, “I know, but I have other assignments I can use it on. I can’t stay here forever.”

And there it is. His heart drops at your words, how easily they’d left your mouth. This is nothing more than helping you for when you’re back in Prythian, flying across the lands and helping people fall in love.

Azriel distracts himself from the feeling, focusing on how you’d complete a mission, how he’d do it if he were one of your kind. It helps, a little.

“If you take me on an assignment I’ll sneak you your armor and bow. Rhys won’t even know,” he bargains. He immediately feels like he’s betraying his High Lord when the words slip from his lips but he’s already said it and you’re perking up and looking at him like he’s the best thing to ever exist.

Fuck, he thinks as his stomach swoops.

“You have yourself a deal, shadowsinger.”

[ae-neon]

Idk if you like unsolicited opinions in your inbox but I desperately need to be heard, and I know you also have opinions on rewriting these books so here goes nothing (this is a ramble and also kinda long, so don’t come for my grammar thanks and my bad lol). If I were the author, I would have made this story (the first book at least) about love. Much like the original one is, but a different one.

Amarantha loved her sister dearly, and her sister loved a human. Then, her sister was killed by that human (if I’m remembering the facts correctly). And Amarantha, who loved no one and nothing but her sister, drowned in her grief. She sought revenge against Jurian, but that wasn’t enough. Just killing him wasn’t enough. She had to carve a hole in his heart, one that could match the one he had carved onto hers. So she sets her visions on the lands south of the wall. The human lands, which he so desperately had wanted to protect. Humans that, just like Jurian, can only ever lie and have never loved anything in their lives as much as she loved her sister. She feels justified in her anger towards the humans in this way.

BUT, the fae cannot lie (bcs they’re the fae) and their vows are binding. The humans and fae have an agreement: that the fae keep to the north of the wall and the humans to the south.

Amarantha knows she can’t just waltz into prythian and go over the wall, because she’s fae and the vow extends to her. She doesn’t have to uphold that agreement, but the high lords do, and they would never allow her to break their (and their predecessor’s) word.

So she tricks them. She’s a diplomat, an ambassador, until she reveals herself to be an enemy, but by then it’s too late and they are under her curse.

But tamlin, whose mother was a human who sang by the wall and enchanted his father, argues against amarantha’s reasons: he says humans can love truthfully, just like she loved her sister, and he is living proof of that.

So amarantha makes a deal. If he can prove her wrong, then the curse is broken. If a human, who has every reason to hate a fae, comes to love one, then he wins.

And things go in a similar way to the originals story, except towards the end.

Even if feyre had gone utm with tamlin and proclaimed her love for all to hear, amarantha would simply say she’s lying, because it is in a human’s nature to lie, and their words can never be trusted. But she extends a different challenge for feyre to prove herself.

And amarantha is smart. She’s a war general, she has lived for centuries, she has made every high lord bend to her will. She wouldn’t give a simple riddle to a human. At the very least, she would challenge her to a duel. Because there’s no way feyre’s scrawny ass can even lift a sword, much less fight a centuries-old general.

And they fight, and amarantha plays with and taunts feyre, because she enjoys being proven right.

But then, nesta and elain show up. They’ve come to save their sister, because despite it all, they still love each other, and nothing will change that (their relationship and the matters of helping around the house are also changed in this version so).

Amarantha is furious. Not because they showed up, but because she has been proven wrong. Because all it took for her to realize that humans can love truthfully is for the archeron sisters to show her. Because she sees in them the same love she held for her own sister.

And in her rage, she deals the final blow to feyre. But that does nothing, because she knows, deep in herself, even if she doesn’t speak it, that she was wrong, and humans can love truthfully and deeply, and the curse is broken.

She fights and fights, but in the end she dies, and there’s a sort of relief as she goes, because now there’s no more holding the weight of grieving wherever she goes. Now she can see her sister again.

Feyre is reborn and all that jazz.

But in the end, it was not her love for tamlin (or amarantha’s) that drove the story, but the love between sisters and their unbreakable bonds. It was not because or for a man, but because of sisters and other women.

(Riceman also doesn’t really pay a big part is this version, but then again his cannon self is insufferable. If he were to be here, he would be very different).

And maybe feyre doesn’t go back to the spring court to marry tamlin, and she doesn’t get dragged around by men so she can be a part of the plot. Maybe it’s her own determination to reverse the fae rebirth, to become human again and live as she lived with her sisters south of the wall, that drives the plot forward as she searches for a way (and stumbles upon tales of the cauldron and its powers and second book stuff).

Oh Anon you've hurt and healed me 💚

You and anyone who knows my blog, know I can go on and on about fixing this series and I love everything you just said

[In the still MIA rewrite, I have planned to have Amarantha working on bringing Clythia back, compounded with her unnatural immortality - she starts obsessing and losing her mind]

Also I am forever maintaining my Amarantha was the Queen of Hybern theory - I'm convinced Amarantha was the series original overarching antagonist and that Rhysand was originally the evil High King.

Because just like you said, it's about women and sisterly love. Feyre was supposed to be the hero and Amarantha was supposed to be the villain

Instead, for the sake of a bad romance, they get replaced by men and suddenly it's Rhysand Vs The King of Hybern

The nameless KoH had no reason to turn Nesta and Elain into Fae but Amarantha would if she were trying to prove a point. If she were trying to prove to even just herself that human hatred overruled their love, then turning the people Feyre loved most into Fae would make sense

Instead we get KoH creating two god level creatures to form a (fake) alliance with other humans...even though he wants to enslave humans... and then he immediately loses these two living nuclear weapons to the people he had no trouble incapacitating without even getting up from his chair... IT MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE

Even Jurian's resurrection is more tied to Amarantha and Feyre than it is to the King of Hybern and Rhysand.

[lunainfortuna]

Sorry, but the funniest shit is when ~some~ people say Azriel acts as a mate towards Elain. Call them dumb.

And you know why?

This is Lucien soon after he met Elain still as a human:

Elain was shaking, sobbing, as she was hauled forward.

Toward the Cauldron. [...] Lucien, beside Tamlin, again put a hand on his sword. “Stop this.” [...] Lucien staggered a step forward as Elain was gripped between two guards and hoisted up. She began kicking then, weeping while her feet slammed into the sides of the Cauldron as if she’d push off it, as if she’d knock it down— “That is enough.” Lucien surged for Elain, for the Cauldron.

Meanwhile, Azriel who had known her for a little while:

And Mor backed away. Step by step. “What a prize,” the king said, that black gaze devouring her. Azriel’s head lifted from where he was sprawled in his own blood, eyes full of rage and pain as he snarled at the king, “Don’t you touch her.”

I mean, lmaooooo. He didn't give a single fuuuuck about Elain. His supposed mate. I swear 😂😂😂😂😂😂

But there's more! In ACOWAR, he showed once again his mate instincts:

But Mor replied smoothly, [...] One moment, Azriel was seated. The next, he’d blasted through Eris’s shield with a flare of blue light and tackled him backward, wood shattering beneath them.

And ps: Eris had just!!!! talked about Elain. Well...... Guess who didn't give a fuck again? Great mate we see here, guys.

From the first time Azriel met Elain, he treated her as Feyre's sister; he treated her with respect and kindness as he would do to anyone in need. Their interactions were superficial. They have never ever acted as mates towards each other; not even once! When he saved her near the end of the third book, he was freaking hurt and she didn't blink an eye. Would mates act like that? Er. (lets remember that Nesta was all about Cassian's safety). And in the end, after truth-teller, they didn't share any scenes together. She didn't ask about him nor did he ask abt her.

But Elain and Lucien?

“I’m fine,” Elain said quietly. And then asked, noticing the gore on him, the torn clothes and still-bloody weapons, “Are you—”

“Well, I never want to fight in another battle as long as I live, but … yes, I’m in one piece.”

A faint smile bloomed on Elain’s lips.

Azriel only started "caring" for Elain and being overprotective when he did the math about the bond between Feysand and Nessian. Only then. And we can notice this regarding his and Lucien's interactions. Before that, he respected Lucien. :) It's pretty clear by now, thinking about Mor and then, Elain, that Azriel changes the way he acts when he decides someone should be his mate/lover. It's not something real and pure.

Good thing that,

In comparison, Azriel slaughtered every soldier in Sangravah when he found Gwyn for the very first time. Every single one. In comparison, it was only when her name came up regarding the Blood Rite that he showed any reaction. In comparison, he wouldn't go as far as call her a friend, but buried the image of her shining eyes deep inside his chest. In comparison, his shadows sing to her. And that's enough.

[daisychains111]

live "tweet" books with me (via the Goodreads progress bar) pt. 6 A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J. Maas

SHAMELESS PLUG: The rest of the books are on my page as pt 4/4.5 and pt 5 hehe

Nesta laughing at the cauldron is so badass oml.....she was really pissing me off in frost and starlight so this book better redeem her"

you're reading my mind cassian...man up and knock

is he gonna call her nes the whole book YES PEASE

 Nesta "You're not my high lord" Archeron back in action

hahahaha rhys is scared of nesta (for good reason but it's still funny)

I still say that Nesta and Mor are gonna be besties.... it's just a matter of time

HAHAHA self insert smut book shaming

damn Cass brutal as hell

I am beyond excited to watch these two losers lust after each other for the next 700 pages...my favorite annoyances to lovers....plus Cass drooling over Nesta in pants is HILARIOUS

cassian comparing his reactions to things that happened to Nesta to Rhys' reaction to feyre and Tamlin cracks me up....just patiently waiting for their mating bond to kick in

Eris is right, they need him...but 1 he doesn't need to be a dick about it, and 2. I'm not excited for Mor to find out

Nesta making fun of her celibate bat boy "making fun of my smut books? I raise you making fun of you having to jerk off yourself" ICON

how Az isn't laughing his ass off rn I will never know...he's stronger than me that's for sure

hmmmmmm....Nesta dear, that sounds suspiciously like a mating bond

these mf have dirty ass minds....they're really just horny af

cassian don't be a creeper

yes Cassian be very bashful about what the sentient house can see...ya nasty

I would choose to read books with a romantic subplot over just a plain romance book literally every day but sometimes I'm really just like "fuck your war go kiss"

hehe Nesta and Gwen bestie prediction

I love the house so much...such an instigator

OMG JUST KISS ALREADY WTF

choosing to ignore the length of Cassian's hair bc long hair is an ick

AHHHH HIM TELLING HER TO KEEP REACHING OUT HER HAND JUST LIKE MOR TOLD HIM TO DO WITH HER IS ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL...IM SOBBING

I'm really ready for the Archeron sisters to be on one team...this 2 vs 1 bullshit is stupid...like clearly you love each other

YYAAAYYY KISSIINNGGG

YAYA RHYS AND FEYRE BABY!!! I saw that coming from a millleeeeee away

that is gonna be the most spoiled child known to man

reading this in the library at school is an interesting choice

"Just sex," my ass

azrial is the worst chaperone in all of existence... but he's also clearly the biggest Cassian/Nesta shipper in existence, so it's fine... Also, the way he just knowingly ate at the table after what they did is BOLD

awwww smutty book club

the older sister disapproval is real...also Nesta calling Rhys Rhysand is hilarious

I love Emerie and Gwyn so much omg

Emerie and Gwyn giggling at the sword inuendos is peak bestie vibe energy

every once in a while the Archeron sisters will say something very "human girl in her 20s" and it cracks me up to no end to watch their centuries-old faerie boyfriends look at them as if they're speaking tongues

just admit you're in love with each other..." just sex" is just hurting both of you

that is just about the hottest thing I've ever read

ewwww what does Tamlin want

Nesta needs a pin that says "bitch and proud" bc she really owns that shit like no other

"your my friend" my absolute ass

I love dancer!Nesta

bc I haven't read in like 5 days I can't remember what plan Cassian is ruining rn but I'm glad he's doing it...go dance with your girl pookie

HE HAD MOR GIVE HIM DANCE LESSONS??!!?!? YOU SHUT UP RIGHT NOW

Rhys is good at his job bc he can have feyre AND Cassian freaking out at him in his head and still hold a conversation....live laugh love feyre and Cassian as the Nesta Archeron protection squad

ha ha az...can't hide that you are in love with Elain from Nesta, she sees all

Az getting Nesta a gift is the cutest thing ever

FUCKING FINALLY JESUS CHRIST 🤦🏽‍♀️

Cassian has the confidence of an actual doormat...sometimes it's sweet, sometimes it's annoying as hell

YAY THEY'RE MATES....BOOO THEY'RE STUPID

I love Gwen so much...that's all

THEY'RE GONNA WIN THE WHOLE THING I JUST KNOW

hehe her mate taught her 😊

there is a little too much plot happening right now for a book that only has 30 pages left

cracking jokes after you almost just died...Cassian I love you

OH GOOD GOD FEYRE

death pacts make me want to kill the people who made them

miracle magic objects are gonna miracle magic object now and bc Nesta's a badass everyone's gonna live...the end

YAY NESTA AND RHYS ARE GONNA BE BESTIESSS

awwwwww nyx

if I die never knowing what happened with Eris and Mor I'll kill Sarah myself (I never got to know)

(Afterthought in post-production: this could've been two books bc the way the plot was resolved in the last 30 pages of a 750-page book is WILD)

I'm also not gonna be reading fantasy for a while just bc that's not what's next on the tbr, so it might be a while before I do the next part cause these are harder to make for contemporary novels tehe

[firstofficerrose]

I just keep thinking about Camlann, and there are two scenarios that I come back to over and over.

Scenario the first: Lancelot. It's not a common name, but it's not totally unheard of either. Lancelot originates in the French romances, I believe, so he would have less power here than characters originating from the Welsh traditions. But Lancelot is genuinely one of my favorite characters in Arthuriana, he's such an absolute disaster mess of a man. He is constantly getting kidnapped and imprisoned, he is a dude in so much distress. He's an incredible fighter. He has (sometimes lengthy) periods of madness. He cannot achieve the grail. He has a thing with Guinevere, and I know that our Gwen is definitely falling for Morgan (which is excellent), but Lancelots are very well suited to pining as well... and there's versions of the story that could even be read as ace or demi, probably. He keeps getting tricked into sleeping with ladies he has no interest in, so you might even have space for Aro Lancelot. There would be power in a link to Guinevere, but I suspect that he could get away with leaning into fealty without romance, you know? Such a juicy space of stories to play with. Such a sopping wet guy. I want Perry and Gwaine having to team up to rescue this dude and having some excellent teeth-clenched teamwork. Do you see my vision here?

Corollary to Scenario the first: Galahad, for many of the same reasons. An even less common name, trickier to pull off, but Galahad being this even-more-incredible fighter might be neat. A lot of what Galahad does falls into the space of miracles, which might not work with Ella's stated intention to avoid living religious traditions, but Galahad is another really interesting character. Achieving the grail through the power of no fap. He's a late addition to the Arthurian stories, and therefore less powerful overall, but I think he would be interesting.

Corollary the second to Scenario the first: Elaine. There are *so* many Elaine's in the Arthurian stories, an Elaine could take almost any role she wanted and that versatility could be extremely useful.

Scenario the second: Robin Hood. This one is relatively easy, because a number of the names from the story (Robin, Marian/Marion, Alan, John, Will) are quite common. This story would be stronger in Nottingham, of course, but can you imagine having this little crew of archery anarchists on your side? It would be excellent. Robin is, in later versions, all about rebellion against a corrupt king or prince, which might give him and his Merry Men a fighting chance against Arthur and the Knights. I want to see it, it sounds great. Also, our group of main characters are casters, a Face, and close-quarters fighters, and in the interest of party composition, I would be happier if we had some longbowmen here. (I know about Perry's crossbow and the spear, but come on, Peredur is a knight in the Mabinogion. He - and therefore Perry - does swords and spears and lances really well, not crossbows.)

Bonus scenario: Pellinor and the Questing Beast. It's been a hot second since I've read Le Morte d' Arthur, but basically the first thing Arthur does after becoming king in that version of the story is run off and go on a quest chasing the Beast for a full year, relieving Pellinor of the quest. I have never heard of anyone named Pellinor outside of these stories, which tells me that he might work better as a monster. You have the Beast and the knight chasing him (Shūjūn mentioned things that looked like Knights and really, really weren't, it could work) as this monster that Arthur and maybe his Knights are all compelled to go chasing, and it gives our little group a break.

[unhealthyfanobsession]

Ok ok so hear me out

Prompt- basically one where Nesta and Cassian didn’t mate at the end of of ACOSF, never even slept together. Nesta just ends up giving in and agreeing to train or work in the lib and eventually becomes ‘apart’ of the inner circle and does magic and shit for them or whatever.

And cassian of course is overjoyed because nesta is part of the fam now and he keeps trying to play with her or rile her up (like the old Cassian did) back to his old self now that she’s doing what they want but because nesta was forced to submit she’s just a shell of a person, doesn’t want to argue with him or anyone, just does what she’s told. And now cassians beginning to really panic (as he should) because he just wants her to be happy

Love your work btw <3

Did someone ask for ✨Angst✨

Nesta learned young that the world wanted silence from women.

Yes, she had been a woman then. A girl and then a woman and now … a female. Pretty dresses and panting creatures who thought with the parts between their legs and a list of rules she never wanted to follow. The only difference in this life was that it would never end.

The Fae claimed to be different, well, the hypocrites she was surrounded by claimed to be different.

The humans rapped her knucles with hard wooden switches and pulled her spine up straight and sat her on the shelf like a pretty little doll to be silent decoration. They demanded silence and a pretty smile.

Feyre and Rhysand and their merry little court put a sword in her hand and sent her to war even as they demanded the same thing. She was allowed to speak and sweat and curse as much as she pleased. She was allowed to be wild as Feyre always had been, but still they expected silence.

Silence where it mattered.

Nesta found her spot in this court when she started to learn from Elain. When she noticed that no one bothered her no matter how far she fell, how depressed she clearly was, how haunted her eyes looked. No one yelled or locked her away or claimed to hate her. You could not hate a person who never said what they thought.

It was a different kind of freedom, Nesta supposed, to be completely numb. To watch your own too long, too graceful fingers slip past this beautiful, hazy possibility you once clung to with battered knuckles and a warrior’s spirit.

They never commented on her drinking now, though it was worse than it had ever been. Feyre giggled and set bottle after bottle between them on a coffee table as she prattled on about her mate and her baby and whatever new way the world was set to end this time. Nesta smiled now as she never had before. Smiled and nodded and made a well timed joke between sips of pink spiked summer water and Feyre never noticed.

How proud she was of herself, of the warrior sister she plucked from the slums and gave a purpose.

Nesta wore the dresses Rhysand gifted her even though the softest silk felt like sandpaper against her skin. She ate at their table and fought all of their battles and it was almost tolerable.

Living like a tiger in one of those roaming circuses. Not free, not allowed to be what it was born to be, not allowed to revel in its pouncing nature, but … secure. Fed and managed and perfectly fine.

She was perfectly fine.

“Nes is going to kick your ass pretty soon if you don’t get back in the ring, Rhys,” Cassian joked one night as he peeled sweat-soaked leathers from his toned body. Tossing them to the floor, treating the House like his maid the way he always had. The way he would have no reason not to.

“I could kick his ass now,” Nesta said on cue and without inflection. That was her line. Cassian baited Rhys and she flexed the muscles she let him train into her body and agreed with whatever he said.

“It would be a waste for Nesta and I to ever spar with fists.”

Nesta swallowed. She had no line for that. No witty response for mention of her party trick power that was only allowed out on Rhys and Feyre’s command. Cassian swooped in, convinced it was a lasting sensitivity he must save her from. “As long as none of us play her in cards,” he joked.

Nesta rolled her eyes and laughed how she was supposed to.

It wasn’t until later that night, long after the sun had set, when she was drinking her way through Rhys’ rapidly declining supply of good whiskey, that she realized her mistake.

The numbness only worked when no one looked too close. And no one ever cared to … except for him. He always looked too close.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Of course.” Maybe that was where she went wrong. Being too amicable. Somewhere, in a deep echo chamber where she kept all her true thoughts locked away, Nesta knew that she would never acquiesce without a snarky comment. She didn’t have the energy to find that line. And why should she? Everyone but him was fine with this.

Cassian sat too close on purpose, pressed his knee against hers and took a long drag from her glass rather than getting his own. He refilled it and licked the side before giving it back to her.

Nesta took a sip from the other side. His eyebrows knitted together.

“Still insisting on all this fabric I see,” he grinned lecherously, picking up the gauzy end of her nightgown. “Feyre and Mor don’t take you to that fun shop by the rainbow?”

“They do,” Nesta nodded, eyes fixed on a spot in the distance.

“Maybe you would let me join you next time?” He smirked, bicep brushing up against her shoulder.

“If you would like.”

“And you can try some things on for me?” Nesta nodded as she took another sip of her drink.

“If you would like.”

“And then we can go behind the store and fuck like animals in plain sight?”

“If you-“ Nesta paused, mind catching up to the words she had been tuning out.

“There we go,” he sighed, moving back and sinking into the chair beside her. “There was actually life in your eyes for a second there.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

Cassian leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Talk to me, Nes.” She hated when he called her that, hated the softness he insisted on cloaking her with in his own mind. “What’s wrong?”

Everything. “Nothing.”

“That’s bullshit!” Nesta winced, because the last time Cassian said those words to her …

“I’m fine,” she forced a smile. “Really!” She couldn’t go back. Couldn’t go back to being locked away and cut off and terrified. She couldn’t go back to being desperate and under their control all the time.

“You aren’t fine,” he whispered. “You barely even seem like yourself, Nes.”

“Exactly,” she felt her eyes spark for just a second before dousing them in cold water. “I am better now.”

Cassian only blinked. “Better?”

“Just like you all wanted.”

“We didn’t want a shell, Nesta!” His voice rose, cracking at the top in a way she had never heard.

“Of course you did,” she shrugged. “Everyone is happy this way, Cassian.”

“I’m not,” he shook his head, eyes going wide with the realization of just how empty she was now.

Typical Cassian to change his mind just when she gave him everything he wanted.

“I am sorry to hear that.”

“Nesta what the fuck?” He nearly toppled out of his chair, falling to his knees with an audible crack. Nesta raised her legs up and hugged them to her chest to avoid contact. “Nesta this isn’t … where did you go?”

“I am right here,” she smiled her new smile. The one that danced like a reluctant spirit on her lips and would never reach her eyes.

“No,” he shook his head. “No this isn’t … this isn’t you, Nes.”

“Of course it is,” she shrugged. “It is exactly the me you told me to be.” Even her accusations sounded like sleepy sighs. “Train or go to the human lands. I trained. Live here or go to the human lands. I lived here. Play nice or be cut off. I played nice.” Nesta looked up, past his eyes instead of into them. “I followed all your rules, Cassian. You don’t get to change them now just because your favourite toy is broken.”