#because by acosf the books are so much about Rhysand's perfection that he has to their highest unquestioned motivation

[infiniteetcetera]

I serve the ACOTAR fandom with a defense of Feysand, just not the one you’d expect…

One of the weirdest takes I’ve seen recently is the “Tamlin is actually the better guy so Feyre was better off with him.” Now listen, i’m not a Tamlin hater. Im also not a “Rhys has never done anything wrong and is perfect” type of fan. But this stance is simply so so wrong to me. Despite the flaws of all these characters I think one thing that is very consistent and just factually real in this series is that Tamlin and Feyre were wrong together and her and Rhys (even if you don’t like them together) make much more sense.

Tamlin and Rhys are foils of each other in a lot of ways and both go through a similar journey where their narratives flips in our protagonists view. The reality is, Tamlin has always had red flags and anger issues and been very paranoid and self righteous and Rhys has always been very secretive, manipulative, and controlling. He and all his friends tell Feyre this themselves. There’s textual evidence for both these takes in all the books of the series and despite claims that “Tamlin wasn’t himself in ACOMAF” or “Rhys wasn’t himself in ACOSF” I think if you’re actually paying close attention these two are written very consistently the whole series, flaws and all. They have many similar qualities that make sense from their similar backgrounds and positions in society. But there are differences too, and those differences are key in why Feyre chooses Rhys.

The first big thing is loyalty. Tamlin is loyal to his sense of morality and what he believes is right. Rhys is loyal to the people he considers his family, even above what is right. The two perfect examples of this are their separate paths in ACOTAR and their relationship with friends. Amarantha sexually pursues both Tamlin and Rhysand. They both have terrible histories with her that would make being in her presence awful, but Tamlin refuses to engage with her at all and his people suffer the consequences of it. IM NOT SAYING TAMLIN SHOULD HAVE EVER HAD TO DO ANYTHING WITH AMARANTHA miss ma’am is an irredeemable creep and we all know this, but this is the reality of Tamlin’s circumstances and choices, which directly parallel how Rhysand gave up his bodily autonomy and suffers for decades all because the extra bit of magic Amarantha lets him have is enough to keep his family hidden and safe. Even after all that, when Rhys has nightmares about UTM it’s not about what she did to him, it’s about Amarantha getting her hands on Cassian or Azriel. That’s what Rhys fears more than his lands being taken over or him literally being a sex slave, he doesn’t want his family hurt.

Regarding the second point, Feyre meets Tamlins Spring Court friends and simply doesn’t get along with any of them except Lucien. And Lucien, the one close friend Tamlin has, is constantly mistreated by him and canonically afraid of him. This is not just something new in ACOMAF, it’s sprinkled throughout ACOTAR too that Lucien is willing to contradict and argue with Tamlin because he’s Lucien but when Tamlin says what’s done is done it’s done. Meanwhile, we get snippets throughout the series of Cassian, Azriel, and Mor all directly laughing in the face of Rhys’ orders and straight up arguing with him as an equal. Even when Rhys does pull rank (happens maybe twice the whole series?) none of his friends are ever shown to be even slightly scared of him. It’s usually a combination of respect and guilt that keeps them in line.

I know that sounded like a Rhys defense blurb but it’s really not. If you value loyalty (which Feyre does) then yes, Rhys sounds better than Tamlin. But it should be noted Rhys is willing to do terrible awful gross things and cross villainous lines that Tamlin just won’t, and there’s value and honor in that too. I think this is best exemplified by a conversation Feyre has with Tamlin in ACOTAR about the war. Tamlin mentions he was so young he had to side with his family, but if he were old/powerful enough he would have fought for the humans no matter what because it’s just the right thing. Feyre our human narrator thinks it’s noble but says she wouldn’t do the same. Feyre’s first priority would be her family, even if keeping them safe meant not doing the right thing or doing something terrible like not fighting against slavery. THIS IS WHO FEYRE IS AND ITS ALSO WHO RHYS IS. It’s laid out for us so early it’s still a shock to me everytime someone claims something was suddenly changed in ACOMAF.

The next big thing for me here is going to sound simple but it’s personality. The few times Feyre sympathizes most with Tamlin and relates to him is when he’s discussing his flaws. When he mentions being called a wild beast she recalls how Nesta called her the same. She relates to Tamlin in being loved “thorns and all” and overall the thing these two bond over is this idea of being wild, untamed, and unrefined but that’s not who Feyre is, it’s who’s she had to be to survive. Feyre did not enjoy hunting, her dream was always to stop hunting and just paint and live an easy quiet life. Tamlin does have other interests, but overall the wild/hunter/violent part of him is predominant enough that he still clings onto it even though it does not benefit him. While on the surface these two seem to have things in common, Feyre’s shared traits with Tamlin are things she was forced into and doesn’t always like about herself.

Rhys on the other hand, these two are actually so incredibly alike. They have the exact same sense of humor (there are literally dozens of examples of this). They both value loyalty and protecting their family above all, even if it means being controlling, overbearing, and morally wrong. They both value being able to fight and take care of themselves because it’s necessary, but even this feeds into an I’ll do it myself mentality.

I’m going to get controversial here in saying this but I would argue even Rhys keeping the pregnancy thing from Feyre is something Feyre would 100% do in his position. That’s why she forgives him. Not because he’s got her manipulated or mind controlled to hell, but because it’s WHAT SHE’D DO TOO. Rhys wasn’t hiding it from her to force her to give birth or anything, he didn’t want her to worry and take on any burden. He wanted to control the situation and take care of her himself. That doesn’t make it right, but for someone who sees the world as he does (Feyre) it makes sense. There’s literally countless times throughout the story Feyre lies, sneaks off, and just generally hides thing from Tamlin, Rhys, and others. She goes to see the Suriel in secret during the war despite knowing Rhys would have let her go if she told him because she doesn’t want him involved and putting himself at risk. Her decisions are on a lesser scale than Rhys’ decisions, but that’s because she’s had less power than Rhys for most of the series. At her core though, Feyre’s morality and instincts are a lot like his. They are mates for a reason and honestly out of all of SJMs series, the pair of mates that make the most sense to the core of the term (except maybe Rowaelin)

Overall, I understand people have issues with this couple and with Rhysand that are valid (I can and will fight the Feyre haters though) but anyone who argues Feyre was better with Tamlin is just factually wrong and I think it’s a misunderstanding of her character and a weirdly infantilizing/patronizing take to make it seem like Rhys is manipulating Feyre all the time and she’s just too silly goofy to see it. We know for sure he is not manipulating her with his powers all the time (despite what the evil Rhys truthers think). Feyre might be younger and less experienced than Rhys but I promise you all she is not stupid. She knows what she’s doing with this man and has a lot more culpability in their relationship than people think. If that means you don’t like Feyre then I guess so be it (be wrong🙄) but I would say despite Rhys’ many flaws (and I do think there are a lot and a lot of people are valid in not liking him) him not loving Feyre and manipulating her is not one of them. He may still lie and keep secrets from her from time to time but this is something he confesses to her he struggled with in the past and would continue to struggle with in their relationship. Feyre knows this. She knows who Rhys is at his core even if some readers don’t and she loves him not because she thinks he’s flawless but because she understands his flaws and values his virtues over them. They’re still learning to work as a couple and pushing past the obstacles together, they’re both still healing from immense trauma the haunts them . Again they are not perfect, but they are definitely the most functional ACOTAR pairing we’ve seen so far and work not because they’re both heroes/good guys but because they’re both willing to be bad or good when the need calls for it.

[jjhhuibhhhj]

Unpopular opinion…

It seems as if everyone is annoyed at Bryce for not immediately sharing every detail of her world with the IC. Bryce did not read 5 ACOTAR books or know these people as we do. Her experience with Fae (rightfully) show that they are horrible. These people overthrew her enemy which must mean they are dangerous.

Although they do not physically torture her it is EXTREMELY CLEAR not just by their actions but actual DIALOGUE that they do not trust Bryce

Also, the IC just finished a war and for the first time in most of their lives are experiencing peace. We know from ACOTAR that Rhysand and friends will do all that is necessary to keep their world save even if that includes killing Bryce which could upon a portal for the big bad “Daglan/ Asteri”

Bryce realising she needs to escape and being reckless is understandable she left her mate and family behind and she doesn’t have time to win the IC’s trust. They clearly view her as a prisoner not a guest and have disarmed her. Bryce does not have one reason to trust them or even expect to them to be trustworthy.

I feel the people who feel let down by this crossover are let down by the fact that the CRESCENT CITY book centers around the CRESCENT CITY characters and isn’t more batboy smut.

There are definitely plot points that could have been dealt with better such as the information from Silene, everything about Ithan. The biggest issue I have with Bryce is her seemingly having this golden hamster wheel in her mind which happens to make perfect conveniently timed plans. Bryce does feel like a moderniser attempt at Aelin’s character. That being said constantly drawing comparisons between the FMC takes away from them so it isn’t something I feel I should do.

Ithan is so annoying to me especially his inability to stay on track or have any logical thought process. I don’t understand his undying loyalty to the wolves who abandoned and betrayed him. Sigrid tried to KILL HIM as well but he still yapped on about her and had no respect for his friend Cormac by not even protesting against the idea of resurrecting Sophie just to use her power to make himself feel better. He should have focused on the friends that are loyal to him which he even called his pack.

Also ENOUGH with the sunball references. Only so much benefits can be drawn from sunball which directly correlates with any real world benefit.

Tharion just feels like one big yap fest (lack of a better explanation to convey the boredom he perpetuates in me). Aidas and Appolion also could have spoken up about EVERYTHING about two books ago or at least in all their little encounters with Hunt.

Jesiba Roga and Fury 🤝 Mor and Amren

(Overhyped and underperforming)

I have religiously read every Sarah J Maas and all things considered I really enjoyed this book it might even be my favorite in the CC universe.

I enjoyed it more than Tower of Dawn, ACOSF and ACOFAS but I will not read the next book if it is about Ithan or Tharion.

I suspect Azriel is linked to Hel but Sarah definitely still has alot of loose threads surrounding him which is starting to feel redundant and an elaborate attempt at making him seem mysterious.

Things I would like so see in the Maasverse: the parasite being removed from the water and the Midgardians tapping into their raw power, better understanding of Bryce and Hunt joint ability. I also think Sarah could become one of the best fantasy writers of all time if she focused more on how the multiverse works (time differences, abilities (technicalities of it all). I would like to know what happened to Erilea because all the evidence points to it being a conquered world which will honestly just be depressing but we see that Prythian and midgard follow the same time sequence so perhaps Erilea is joined in on that time scape and Aelin falling through still happens relatively “recent”.

And I agree on how annoying the term “alphahole” is but lets focus on the real enemy “his luxurious length”. That just reminds me of ms Perky in 10 things I hate about you and Reginalds quivering member.

Let’s move away from the smut which was excellently balanced out in TOG in my opinion. I do think that Sarah amortised her credibility as a fantasy writer between TOG and ACOTAR by focusing more on the smut scenes and not the plot point. I am ready to be hated but I DON’T care about what Lorcan did or Cassian and the stupid headboard. I DO care about how the time differs between the universes, the different gods in all the worlds and how they link, each string on the harp and the different heritages.

[wishcamper]

Heavy Lies the Crown: Rhysand, greatness, and the pressures of power

Or: the librarian’s daughter, former playwright, licensed counselor mashup of my nightmares dreams because I am vast, I contain multitudes.

No content warnings and no real HOFAS spoilers, I don't think, other than that he's in it but I feel like you know that by now. Spoilers for Breaking Bad (lol).

---

In working on my current fic (on ao3 here!) I've been thinking a lot about Rhysand and how he really goes off the rails in ACOSF and HOFAS. It's easy to chalk it up to poor writing, but I like the challenge of trying to make it make sense. What are Rhys’ motivations, truly? What would explain the vast array of heinous shit he does the text tells us is justified?

Rhys is shown over and over to be quite Machiavellian ('ends justify the means' dude, who was maybe writing satire). It's easy to list the times he shows this. The 50 year Velaris hostage situation. The bargain UTM with Feyre. The Weaver's cottage. Stealing the Book from Tarquin. CLARE BEDDOR. Infiltrating people's minds. Torture. Assassination. Allying with Kier. Concealing his wife's medical information. Being an ass to people in general. According to Mr. Machiavelli, any action is warranted if it the goal it achieves is morally important enough.

It seems like Rhys can justify anything to himself if he believes it will serve the greatest good at the end of the day. He does so many things with the air of “it’s for your own good” or “you’ll understand why one day” but that day never.. comes? Not yet anyway, which begs the question: is he that unself-aware, or is there a longer game he’s playing that all of these minor skirmishes are leading up to? What if he knows what's coming? And what kind of cause or threat would feel so great he could justify everything he does up to this point?

Okay I'm gonna talk about Aristotelean literary structure, please don't leave me.

The idea of a tragic hero is a character whose downfall is inevitable but who fights against it anyway. Hamlet is a classic example of a tragic hero, Oedipus being the de facto first, Walter White from Breaking Bad a more modern version. We see Walt learn he’s going to die in the first episode, in the middle he does a bunch of stuff to prevent his physical death (cancer) and metaphorical death (failure/obscurity), and then both his body and reputation die in the last episode as a direct result of his attempts to avoid fate. It’s blissful Aristotelean symmetry. *chef’s kiss*

Every tragic hero has hamartia, more commonly known as a ‘fatal flaw’. In Hamlet, his fatal flaw is procrastination, and his delays create space for all kinds of the fuck shit he was trying to prevent. It’s important to note that hamartia is by design a neutral term - not so much a flaw, but a trait, motivation, or decision that sets off the chain of events the character is trying to avoid. Tragedies have occurred equally from too much love as too much hate, and doing nothing is just as much a decision as doing something. The word itself comes from the Greek for ‘to miss the mark’. To try and fail, the backbone of tragedy.

One of the most common hamartia is hubris, a modern synonym for arrogance but which more specifically means an outsized belief in one’s ability to affect and control the future. Well-known tragic heroes taken down by hubris include our boy Walter White, Tony Soprano, Viktor Frankenstein, Achilles, Jay Gatsby, Kendall from Succession. It exists in real life, too: Lance Armstrong is a perfect example of a modern tragic hero brought down by hubris. And what do all these men have in common? Power, via money, fame, strength, the state, intellect, violence etc.

I’ve been enjoying looking at Rhysand through this tragic hero lens because while it doesn’t really make him more sympathetic, it does make his actions easier to understand logically, which is its own kind of humanization. If Rhysand is aware of a prophesied or fated event sometime in the future and is pulling the cosmic strings now, it must be incredibly important, like annihilation-level important, which is so much pressure. 

So he grows to maturity with an understanding that he will one day have to face this intense evil that could completely destroy his world, and it plants in him a hubris. He believes that his immense power grants him a certain amount of influence automatically. And honestly, is he wrong?

And this is where it’s important to think about how power makes people weird. Power gives people a false sense of confidence in their actions and choices, because their status and privilege protect them from so many more consequences. In this way it’s easy to see how someone can get a big ego - no one is stopping me, so I must be doing well! Or: everything is going well for me, so I must be really killing it! I know I feel that way in the first tingles of hypomania, but hypomania is fundamentally a distortion of reality and I believe so is power.

Power not only gives people confidence but also access to make decisions for others. They begin to think they should share the success they’ve found by leading and guiding others to see how great it can be if you do what they say. Just look at one of those cringe 'billionaire morning routine' videos to see what I mean. It’s a very patronizing form of altruism, because the leader genuinely believes they have the people’s interest at heart. And I use the word patronizing intentionally - leaders have often referenced feeling paternal towards their people, Winston Churchill + FDR, 'God the Father'. Power and fatherhood have been linked for a long time. And direct from our girl Wikipedia, "paternalism is action that limits a person's or group's liberty or autonomy and is intended to promote their own good".

I was talking with a girlfriend of mine recently about how I think some men don’t have the experience of other people depending on them in a significant way until they get married and/or become fathers. Like, afab and femme people learn very early to be considerate of others, to think about how others feel, to act in ways that keep others happy, etc. This plants in us a sense of duty to perform in ways that please others, to smile, to create comfort and provide caretaking in every environment we enter. So by the time we get to marriage and motherhood, we already know how to put others’ needs before our own because we’ve been doing it from the jump.

For men, however, this can be a completely novel experience. And it seems like it's SO HEAVY FOR THEM. George ‘Father of his Country’ Washington just wanted to go back to Virginia the whole time he was President. So many men talk about the pressures of being a provider and their families depending on them in a way women don’t, and I think it’s because for the first time others truly depend on them and they don’t know how to handle it.

In response, they either shove down their emotions as patriarchy demands and have a midlife crisis, or they abdicate that responsibility and go completely absent physically and/or emotionally to continue living for themselves. (Obviously there are good men and dads out there, and bless you if you’re lucky enough to know, have, or be one.)

And this aspect of power feels relevant because from the text it seems like Rhysand is unraveling. Between Feyre, the baby, the Trove, Nesta and being threatened by her power, Koschei, Bryce, the whole High King shit - I think he’s starting to crack under the pressure. And honestly, I’m kind of surprised it didn’t happen before now.

According to Aristotle, the tragic hero must:

Be significant (virtuous/capable/powerful/important etc.)

Be flawed

Suffer a reversal of fortune.

Rhysie boy definitely ticks the first two. I wonder what it would look like to get to three? I don’t think Sarah has the balls, but it’s definitely enhanced my reading experience and given me a lot of interesting things to think about.

Okay that's all I've got. Love ya, see ya soon xx

[fandom-pantheon]

Oh, this will be a rant. Bear with me, or ignore me. You can either argue or agree… However, if you want to read, it will be a freaking essay. Just a warning.

1. MATES! Or better yet, the whole thing about mates being rare and the SJM being like: “You get a mate, and you get a mate, and you get aaaaaaa MATE, etc”, makes perfect sense. Like in ACOTAR you have a world divided in half. Literally half the population is separated by a freaking wall. If Feyre didn’t cross the wall, and eventually became Fae, Rhysand would never found his mate. Nor would Cassian or Lucien. Rhysand father was over 900, when he found his mother. Do you have any idea how many times he could have died??? In ToG, you don’t have winnowing, or teleportation. Traveling the world for weeks on end? Months? Years? Which human will do that? How many of them? And if Aelin and Rowan didn’t find each other, neither would Lorcan and Elide. For example. And in CC? Their powers were corrupted, and with that their senses as well. So yeah. MATES ARE RARE!!!!

2. The whole critique of HOFAS. I get it if you don’t like it. That’s perfectly fine. However, there is no reason attacking some of the well established characters like Nesta and Azriel. First thing first. Nesta, and the whole story how SJM just ruined the ending of ACOSF, cause Nesta was all healed and whatnot. Depression is a serious illness, that is far from easy to beat. And even if you “beat it”, it does not end overnight. Yes, she had an amazing story of overcoming all that was there, but still, it did not disappear. And it probably never will. There can be days, weeks and months that it can take hold of you. That is perfectly normal, and fine, and Nesta falling again, does not mean she is back there. She has her family, her friends and her mate to help pick her up, and having a bad day or two, or a week is NORMAL. Even for people who do not suffer from depression, let alone the one who does. So don’t attack with the whole “ruined the journey of Nesta”, cause it ain’t true. We do not know what is happening in Pyrithian yeat, so chill.

3. I’ll make it a new point. AZRIEL!!! My baby. If SJM stays true to her words, my little kinky baby! 😜 Why the freaking f*ck, is it weird to have Az there instead of Cass? Like yeah, Nesta and Cass are mates, but that does not mean they are joined by umbilical cord for f*ck sake! Az is a spymaster, and it makes perfect sense for him to be trailing them. Being found out however, by accident or on purpose is questionable, but it makes so much more sense for him to be there and get as much info about this new person from different world. If there was a battle, full on war, yeah, I would expect Cass, freaking GENERAL of Night Court ARMIES, there, but for this mission?? People, have you heard of common sense?? Just cause you want to see more of Cass and Nesta, does not make it a good idea for running a court as High Lord. Deal!

4. Az and Nesta friendship? Amazing. The way he calmed her down, with mentions of Cass and Nyx. Amazing! And it is established in ACOSF that there was friendship between the two, so why the fuck are ppl freaking out? Is it because of the fantasy of threesome?? Excuse you!!! Get your mind out of the fucking gutter prudes! Just because Cass was the main love interest and turned out to be her mate, does not mean she cannot enjoy her own imagination. For fuck sake, woman keeps reading smutty books, of course she has a dirty mind. And at least 1/4 of those books have 3somes in it, if not the whole reverse harem!!!! What women (in her sexual prime, like she’s 25 or something) would not enjoy 2 hunks worshipping her??? If you wouldn’t, well… keep lying to yourself. The rest of us know the truth.

5. AZ DESERVES A MATE! Now repeat after me! AZ DESERVES A MATE! No, not Elain. Gods not that bitch. And she will turn out to be a bitch I’m 99.99% sure of it. As Rhysand mentioned, even roses have thorns. And we still have to see what she has to show. I’m sure it’s foreshadowing. Nobody is that nice. Or better said, nobody is that nice for a long time. I’m not even sold on the idea of Lucien and Elain, let alone Az and her. Be it Gwyn, Eris, Helion or Mother herself, Az deserves a mate! A mate who will love him! All of him, good and bad, and icy. And no, not the one that will “melt his ice” but the one who will embrace it. Cause it won’t be Az anymore. I didn’t see Nesta taming Cassians wild side, but going along with it, enjoying it. So why would Az mate “melt his ice”??? The mate his shadows will feel comfortable with. Where he can go through his day and find shadows missing, finding them with him/her/them. Doesn’t matter. He needs his own journey, full of trials and errors, and full on f*ck ups, for his happy ending. I believe it will be Gwyn. But it can be anyone but Elain. She will never love him fully. She will always, even when she refuses Lucien, feel the mating bond, and I cannot explain how badly I don’t want that to happen to Az. Cause HE will wake up every morning thinking: “ Is this the day she leaves me for her mate?”. And seeing his brothers happiness with their mates, he will ask this. And he deserves so much better!

6. RHYSAND! Just that! FREAKING RHYSAND! Why the f*ck are ppl freaking out about his behavior in ACOSF and HOFAS??? Let’s start from the beginning. RHYSAND is a well established character. And he is the same from start to now. He is a manipulative, scheming bastard, secretly trying to do good things, by whichever means necessary! Good or bad. For f*ck sake, he was Amarathas 2nd in command and her whore for 50 years… Like, yeah, he is good, and he is a feminist, and he is all of this and that, but he is still just… him! That won’t change, and I don’t want it to change, cause I really like his character as it is. (You have every right to hate him, but not on the account of him “changing”) Him threatening Nesta when she revealed the risk of pregnancy! YES, YES, and YES! He had every right to do so, and him telling Cass to get her out of there, was more than I would have done. (And no, I am not talking about the moral dilemma of him not telling Feyre in the first place, cause that was bad, however, what would you do? We can discuss morality all day long, and everybody would take the high road until it’s time, sooooo… Don’t!) Oh, and him reprimanding Nesta in the extra in HOFAS. Again spot on. Because, if Az or Cass have done something sooooooo stupid, he would have beaten them in the training ring to the inch of their life. Mor would probably take the full burn of his power. And Amren… Well let’s not go there. Most of the ppl started talking shit about Rhys and his behavior in HOFAS, however I was pissed, and I’m still pissed at Feyre.

7. Feyre!!! Oh my Gods!!! I’m starting to hate her. I liked her so much. Strong FMC, overcoming her obstacles, trying to do good for her family and friends and mate. But HOFAS! So mad!!!!! YOU ARE A F*CKING HIGH LADY! Your damn sister just gave one of the deadliest weapons to basically complete stranger, who btw, came to your house and wrecked PRISON of all places… In Midgard Avallen island changed completely. What the f*ck happened to the prison when she took part of the star??? She f*cking freed the Asteri/Dalgan in you house, and you sister was like: “Yeah, sure, take the mask, please don’t die or fall prey to the Asteri”. And you give shit to your MATE and a f*cking HIGH LORD of the court for reprimanding you damn sister??? Like f*ck off bi*ch. I’m all for feminism and females supporting each other, but this is politics! This is a leader talking to his subject, not a f*cking family show on air. Honestly, it’s starting to look like Feyre is abusing Rhys, and using his feelings for her and their mate bond to do things the way she wants them to be done. And I hate that it looks that way.

8. This is the last one for now. Az and Rhys interaction in extra in ACOSF. AGAIN, ppl say it with me… RHYSAND IS A HIGH LORD OF THE NIGHT COURT!!! So yes, they are friends and all of that, but at the end of the day, Rhys is the leader, and he knows his shit. And he has every right to say that shit to Az. However, I do think it is misleading. We will see if I’m right, but. If Gwyn is Az mate, I believe she knows. And I believe Rhys knows as well. I really think they are friends. (Especially over the things that happened to them, and knowing who their mates are, but not telling them, since they weren’t/aren’t ready. The whole scene of Rhysand telling Nesta to be respectful to Gwyn kinda gives me that vibe). So him telling Az “he will make him regret it”, kinda comes from that. However, I get a feeling (again might be wrong, time and SJM will tell), that making Az regret his action will involve his mother. We had mentions of her, sooooo. (I have this reoccurring thought, about a random attack, that Az takes care of, on one of his spying missions, and the enemy mentions that they will take his mate or something like that. Az coming back to Velaris, and freaking out about Elain being in danger, and everybody freaking out as well. Until Rhys asks to look at what happened, and realizes that the enemy was not saying Elain, but his mate, and runs of in search of Gwyn, who’s been attacked or kidnapped… Yeah, just there sitting in my head. Does not want to leave.)

Anyway, that’s it for now. There are much more points I would like to make, but I’ll leave it for some other time.

It took way longer than anticipated to write this. And I’m sorry for any grammatical error or misspelling. English is my second language.

If you stuck till the end, thank you, and let me know what your thoughts are??? I would appreciate discussion over open war, but go ahead and do what you like….

Love,

Lady Tina

[feyres-divorce-lawyer]

Hello! I just saw the ask and your response about Nesta and Feyre pregnancy and how now Nesta is the new scapegoat (I'm sure with the new book, Tamlin and her will go hip to hip with that role :/ ) And the thing I want to say is, to the stan who said "threw a miscarriage in feyre's face" is the fact that the only reason she even faced that (when it's clear thats all they care about), the only one responsible for that possibility was not Nesta, who revealed this information to her (in whatever way she wanted/did etc), no. The one responsible is Rhysand. The 500-year-old HL, KNEW what a pregnancy, an Illyrian baby/pregnancy, would do to a body that was not ready to carry a baby with wings. He knew, and he did nothing to prevent that. Let me repeat: he never discussed anything with Feyre. Nothing, nada, no words, about this. Maas told us, repeatedly, that pregnancies in the fae world are rare and "delicate" (except for the Autumn court it seems or for the spring court, since Tamlin had different brothers) and he never, not once, took precautions or had a discussion with her mate, to who he is bound forever (in every sense, when one of them dies it over for both). Then Feyre is pregnant, and what does he do? N O T H I N G. He doesn't tell her (a right that she owns to have, it's her body, her baby, her life, everything) he literally lets her live in an isolated bubble - literally, since no one can even touch her, except him - but still, he needs to let everyone know that she is with child (HIS child) knowing that he's dooming her, both of them really and the baby at the same time. He knew there was a real possibility of a threat, but he didn't inform his mate of the possibility of it and then "he tried" to find a solution that wasn't there, except for the fact that putting my tin hat on I do believe Rhys tried really hard to break Nesta, mentally and emotionally, so that, when the time came, she would help her sister (Him) and in that way she would lose the power he so feared/hated. This whole plot made no sense and it only showed me how, despite everything Maas tries to tell us, Rhysand doesn't really care about Feyre: he doesn't care about her wants, what she thinks, about her persona as a whole. Her agency? It should be HIS. She's now truly a puppet in his hands, something he remade to love him without questions. He made sure to conform everyone around him so. Do I really think Nyx will be their only child? No. The stans lament that it was Tamlin the one who would reduce her to only be a wife and baby machine, while there is Rhysand here who made Feyre High Lady (only in name), and now she has already a baby, she is a mother and… it's so sad, because she could've been so much more, she should've had the time to knew her new self, her new life, her body. She had a right to know about the risk. She had a right to even her own suffering, to know what her pregnancy could do, to grieve herself and her baby. To try, to decide to find a solution, and even to fail. But, to all, she deserved to know from the beginning what that kind of pregnancy was, of its risks. Rhysand should've done so much more, and seeing people pointing fingers elsewhere is just… upsetting. He should've taught her so much more about the court, about the Illyrians (about the fact of how offensive she was when she "grew" their wings) and he should have let her live her life. But that was not what he wanted to do. Maas said he is "perfect, a good guy, the strongest, the best of them all" but her writing shows differently. I'm so sorry about this rant (that is probably more of a babbling/rambling, sorry, I wrote everything at the moment and feels) but I feel angry about these topics so much. Hope it didn't bother you too much, and hope you're having a good day/night! <3

i’m not bothered at all, nonny, this was great!! and yes! rhys never informs feyre of the risks!!!!! actually thank you for reminding me. in acosf when cassian is telling nesta about the whole thing, he says everyone in the night court knew what it meant for a high fae female to birth illyrian children, death. everyone including rhysand. when feyre brought up the idea of having kids, not once did he sit her down and properly inform her of what it meant. i think ppl don’t bring this up often because nyx having wings is explained with feyre cosplaying an illyrian during sex, but regardless, there was still a chance of nyx having wings because of rhys, and feyre was never informed of this, by anyone, even prior to majda. none of them heard the news and went, wait, this could be fatal considering literally almost every single mother died and the ones that didn’t were never the same. he gets her pregnant knowing this, and doesn’t care. and i love your tinfoil theory! i’ve always thought that the stupid plot served two purposes; a) to have a way of stripping nesta of her powers because sarah realized she made her too powerful and couldn’t have someone clearly beating rhys, and b) she discovered her breeding kink and decided to make it everyone else’s problem. in my mind, feyre is free of all them, including the demon child, gallivanting across the world with her bestie, lucien. thank you, have a great day/night, as well♥️♥️

[soartfullydone]

Did you ever read ACOSF? What did you think of the twilight baby plot?

Everything I know about ACOSF I've learned against my will lol. One of my best friends kept a play-by-play of each chapter in a Google Doc, so she could spare me the reading experience but also so we could make fun of it mercilessly.

In all seriousness, I knew I was never going to subject my eyes to it directly because I hate Nessian with a burning passion. I one-hundred percent believe that Nesta deserves better than everything she got, and she should've been meaner actually. Even when I somewhat liked ACOMAF, I felt utterly indifferent to Cassian. Who is this bland rice cake taking up the space where Lucien should be? No good dialogue or anything out of that guy. And then SJM wrote Nessian into MAF with all the subtlety of a clown show, and it was over. Nesta hates him! Keep him away from her! If she doesn't kill him, I will!

Most baby plots are horrendous in fiction, and I hate them deeply also. They often reduce women to being pure idiots (why do I have morning sickness after unprotected sex? a mystery!) or they reinforce this false idea that women can only achieve ultimate happiness by having their One True Love's baby. Ah, the number of women I know who are stuck in unhappy marriages, their sense of self completely lost because being a Wife and Mother comes first! Can those things be fulfilling? Absolutely. But a lot of folks are selling a romanticized idea of both, and SJM is no exception here.

Because look at what the Twilight baby plot does. It takes away all of Nesta's power, asserts her feelings of worthlessness, and encourages her to be a breeder for Cassian, who never even told her he loved her in their romance book. It puts her firmly and forever under Rhysand's and the Night Court's boot. It confirms that Feyre has also lost all her agency, that the High Lady title is meaningless, that her found family and Court do not respect her, that Rhysand will lie to her and trap her if it serves him to do so. That, ultimately, her body does not belong to her and she doesn't have a choice.

What really gets to me, too, is that these two women have to change their bodies to accommodate their love interests, their supposed fated mates. Methinks if it was fated, if they really were perfect for each other, this kind of change wouldn’t have been necessary 🤔. But also if this really were a fantasy story with all-powerful magical beings, there’s no reason why Feyre’s pregnancy should’ve been so risky to begin with. Barring that, there’s no reason why a C-section couldn’t have been an option. It was drama for the sake of drama, pain for the sake of pain. All filler, no substance.

Everything surrounding the baby plot and Nesta's forced captivity prove ACOMAF for the lie it is, a romanticized idea about overwritten trauma and choosing the Perfect Guy because he can read your mind and tell you the things you want to hear. I mean, how else do we go from Feyre earnestly believing she wants time with her new love, that a child can wait, to a Feyre who can't think of a single gift to give Rhys besides the news of her pregnancy? (Cue him cumming to the sight of their unborn child. I will never forget, and neither will you, dear anon, I'm sorry. But I didn't write it!)

And idk, given how much pregnancy in general squicks me out despite being a woman myself, how much medical care for women generally sucks, how many people are going through such pain with miscarriages, unviable pregnancies, and unclear yet strict abortion laws... This ain't it, fam! If SJM wants to talk real-life application with her trauma bullshit, then let's talk real-life application! Because no one, not a single person, has an I Am Become Death magic sister who can pull a dying mother and their dying baby back from the brink where medicine and the law have failed them. No one can have their premie who can't survive on its own suddenly turned into a healthy six-month-old. Who does this plot serve? Neither the reader nor the characters benefited.

I genuinely can't understand how SJM, as a mother herself, could write something so tone deaf, without even being brave enough to explore this kind of fear and pain with any care whatsoever. If she wanted Feyre and Nesta to actually bond over something... Feyre's pregnancy and what that means as a human-turned-fae and a mother could have been it. That could have been something the sisters discussed and helped each other with, where they could have learned more about each other and their deeper fears as young women in a society that does not truly respect them. Both of them share in family trauma, for fuck's sake! Now here Feyre is starting a new family at great risk while Nesta is still guiltily mourning the one she lost! The dots are there!

But no. Instead, not even Feyre is allowed to learn the truth about her pregnancy until Nesta tells her, and then Nesta is painted as a villain for doing so. Feyre isn't allowed to have any real opinion or lingering fears or doubts about her fate whatsoever. Because none of this stuff really matters, especially not the trauma. It's about the fucking, rutting, animal sex. It's about the smirking males, their dripping seed, and their inability to be anything besides horny at any given moment. It's about the washboard abs. Hey, a sexy story would be just fine with me! I just wish SJM would fully embrace that (and also write it better lmao) and get off her "I'm God's gift to feminism" soap box. Maybe take off the girlboss shades, too, because ain't none of her female characters even living up to the shallowness of a girlboss. The narrative undermines and undervalues them too much.

Actually, I have to clap my hands to SJM for this baby plot. I've never seen one that destroys two main female characters in a single stroke before. That's how powerful Rhysand's dick is.

[bookishfeylin]

There are a few unfortunate book series in which the protag goes from interesting, flawed, reasonable character to power-mad villain material with no apparent awareness from the author. But Feyre is definitely one of the more depressing examples. Was it that she was used as the main vehicle for retconning other characters' personalities in the sequels? Was it that SJM decided that the narrative HAD to support Feyre's every move, that nothing she did could be judged as wrong within the book? Did Feyre end up being a weird fanfic power fantasy self insert? It's all bad. But I miss her, too. Book one Feyre? I loved her so much. Would have adopted her in a heartbeat.

Yep, I agree with a lot of this. She changes, and for the worse, when she meets Rhysand. Suddenly she's on the "high fae are superior and actually humans are bigoted for hating the people who enslave, rape, and murder them" train. Which is... yikes. And she pulls the "must brutalize the token Black man in this story." And steals from him. And then she does ACTUAL FREAKING BLACKFACE. And she runs around mind raping sentries and toppling governments and unleashing her magic not caring who else is hit in the process (Lady Vanserra) and then she locks Nesta up and. Ugh. It's bad.

But at the same time... she's both a fictional character, so I can blame the racist out of universe writing (like the BLACKFACE) on Sarah J Maas, not Feyre, and for her crimes that are viewed as bad in universe (like. The mindrape. That) that's due to manipulation by Rhysand. She's 22. 22. Rhysand is... what? 538?

She's a victim of his manipulation, of him exerting his power and influence to make his wife isolated from everyone but him, to ensure that everyone she's close to is everyone he's close to, so that he can always control what she thinks, what she does, what she knows. And I know this sounds paranoid, but this is proven PAINFULLY true in ACOSF, when he instructs everyone to hide the truth about HER HEALTH from her. ACOSF makes it abundantly clear that Rhysand has succeeded. She's isolated. Alone--alone from everyone but Rhysand, that is.

And you can even see this in ACOWAR! Anytime she feels remotely guilty about doing anything, Rhysand is like "you were perfect and amazing" and it's a trap. It's a trap so no one likes her or trusts her and so she has no allies outside of him and his. It's a trap so everything she knows is filtered through Rhysand, so he can control what she knows and does as he sees fit. And it infuriates me.

And that's why I can't be as critical of her as I can of other characters. Book 1 Feyre--every Feyre--deserved so much better. It doesn't excuse her atrocities, but... its why I try to avoid too much Feyre criticism on this page, because a lot of people forget exactly what she is: a victim of Rhysand's emotional, physical, and sexual abuse. And now she thinks it's ok to act like him, to be like him, because he's groomed her so well that she doesn't know any better.

[starsreminisce]

Do you think Rhysand is multi-faceted or is he a 'gary stu'?

Personally, I think Rhysand is a multi-faceted character. His flaws ripple across the series, deeply affecting the people around him. We see the terrifying Rhysand who held Feyre's mind in the first book, only to witness a softer side emerge in the second book because she is his mate. But then, in ACOSF, we see him ready to kill Nesta after she reveals the pregnancy complications to Feyre.

Rhysand even warned us about this in ACOMAF.

I’ll admit that I’m terrified at the thought of my mate being pregnant with so many enemies around us. I’m terrified of what I might do if you’re pregnant and threatened. Or harmed.

Rhysand's flaw is that he tries to take on too much without relying on others, much like Feyre. We see the consequences of this as well. And just like Feyre, it takes a lot for Rhys to change his mind about someone. Remember, it was Rhys who suggested Tamlin be a double agent for Hybern in ACOMAF, and then Tamlin actually became one in ACOWAR.

“I am telling you for two reasons,” he said, his face so cold, so calm, that it unnerved me as much as the news he was delivering. “One, you’re … close to Tamlin. He has men—but he also has long-existing ties to Hybern —” “He’d never help the king—” Rhys held up a hand. “I want to know if Tamlin is willing to fight with us. If he can use those connections to our advantage. As he and I have strained relations, you have the pleasure of being the go-between.” “He doesn’t inform me of those things.” “Perhaps it’s time he did. Perhaps it’s time you insisted.” He examined the map, and I followed where his gaze landed. On the wall within Prythian—on the small, vulnerable mortal territory. My mouth went dry.

Even Jurian seemed offended that Rhys would believe he'd turn against humans. Rhys admitted to Feyre that he made some bad calls in ACOWAR, and we definitely see that—he tried to face Amarantha alone, planned to steal the other half of the Book of Breathings, tried to confront the King of Hybern with just his inner circle, and sacrificed himself to repair the Cauldron without telling Feyre.

It's rare to see a character whose flaws hinders others around them. We journeyed through ACOMAF and ACOWAR seeing Rhys through Feyre's eyes, where he seemed perfect, only to have Nesta swing the pendulum in ACOSF with, "He is an arrogant, preening asshole," whilst still acknowledging he is also a good High Lord before reaching an understanding when Rhys realized Nesta was saving Feyre's life. Yet, they are now at odds regarding the Dread Trove in HOFAS.

The criticisms toward Rhysand are more about his actions in the book rather than his supposed perfection or lack of flaws, making him feel more multi-faceted than a Gary Stu.

Hope you like this answer! Thank you again for asking!

[nestastits]

Same anon again! Thanks alot you view points help me add perspective I feel has been missing for some time. I especially love how you attribute the way Nesta’s wrongs being highlighted more than others together with how sjm self inserted because I’ve been thinking about it that way too. She did mention she was in a bad place herself and how much she remembered about it during her reread of acosf so it makes sense she used Nesta’s arc as a punching bag for herself. It doesn’t sit right with me still but atleast it helps provide some explanation and I can seperate that from Nessian. Also im glad you highlight how Nessian is realistic in the sense that real couples have issues. I too felt off put by feysand both as separate characters and as a couple for being to perfect. It felt like I was reading just any other ya bad boy couple where the guy turns out to be super tragic. Nessian always pulled at my hearts strings from the beginning and it makes me happy that there are people like you that still see and help others see the beauty in it. For a more fun questions what do you think Cassian was doing while Nesta was off in hofas? I like to imagine he was sick with worry 🥰 it makes me happy to imagine romantic thoughts where his mate is out saving the world and he’s just forced to sit back and admire-worry. Nesta is just amazing

I like to think when Cassian learned about what Nesta was doing he immediately wanted to go find her but couldn’t. And he reflected back on every moment of being with her in awe. “Nesta will be fine. She’s strong, brave, selfless when needed to be. And powerful. She will be fine” I like to think he just kept telling himself she would be fine even if he wasn’t with her. I like to think that he also got comfort in Azriel being with her because I feel like him and Azriel have this understanding of how precious Nesta is 😌. I headcanon that Cassian had conversations with Azriel about Nesta throughout the books, and when Nesta finally decided to be with Cassian those talks got longer and more frequent with Azriel. Cassian likes to talk but I think he’s more reserved than what the fandom believes him to be. I think the only person he ever got to freely talk about Nesta with is Az and because of that he trusted Azriel with his heart-Nesta.

I also believe the “argument” him and Nesta had off page in CC3 was one born out of fear, not anger. I mean they just barely won a war where him and Nesta almost died. He is allowed to be upset about her giving up a powerful item that could be used to end worlds. That could very well end their world, that could end this happiness him and Nesta have found for themselves. I think the moment she got home they went to their bedroom and he had this “argument” with her. He told her about his fear and she reassured him everything would be fine. I think he sobbed quietly in her arms and kept kissing her forehead repeating “You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine. My heart is safe.” And the house didn’t stop giving them chocolate cake for weeks after this as a way to reassure them everything is fine. 🥰

I also think about the whole scene of Nesta and Az reporting back to Rhysand about what happened and Nesta’s just like “yeah I killed one of those ancient monster things. What like it’s hard?” And Cassian’s standing behind her like: 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰😩😩😩😩😩🫡🫡😍😍That’s My Mate!

Glad my viewpoint has helped you!

[flowerflamestars]

Hotter Take: If you think Rhysand and the IC are the good guys, you probably also think Dumbledore is cool and do not and will not acknowledge just how manipulative and shitty they are.

P.S: Azriel, hidden depths or just a slightly more insightful lapdog? Got into an argument when i said he probably doesn't have a personality

Correct and PERFECT TAKE. If you think they're fabulous you are also, 85% more likely to find Severus Snape noble and tragic.

AZRIEL!! Oh god, okay. I have three distinct thoughts on this:

1) He is...laughably without a personality. Like, I'm sorry, but S/JM has not effectively written a group dynamic that feels feasible/realistic/semi-allows everyone to be people since Queen of Shadows. Her books thrive on having a whole band of people together, but there is zero main character/side character balance.

Is part of that because he's The Scary Quiet One? yes, sure. No reason to be chatting up Feyre (who is a child!! god. B A B Y. I reread acomaf and I AM SEETHING but that is neither here nor there)? yeah probably.

which brings me to 2) Everything. Pretty much everything we (myself included, because writing him in Starlight was very fun) like about Az...isn't strictly canon.

It's canon-adjacent. We're filling the gaps because there is almost nothing but a sketched outline. And it works SO WELL- because Azriel, almost more than Rhysie himself, is a big sexy trope trap.

He's the Quiet One with the dry humor! the (we pretend) heart of gold! Longing! Service! Loyalty from the Shadows! He is a LITERAL CINDERELLA STORY. Darkly handsome but BLUSHING. Scarred gentle hands! Daddy issues!

It is right there for the taking.

3) it is right there for the taking and canon takes NONE OF IT.

Like. Azriel is almost better as a menacing background shadow because the second you interrogate...really, any part of his character, nothing makes sense. Nothing.

His story is predicated on pain, right? Horrible suffering until he could talk to darkness. Its almost like he can read minds. his gift is secrets. It is a journey of improbable survival.

But to get secrets out of people. He brutally tortures them??

Which, is made further redundant not just by his gifts...but the fact...that he serves not one, but two mind-readers???

Azriel is transparently traumatized by having been the one to find Morrigan dumped in Autumn, stripped and halfway to death. It fucked him up SO BAD- which makes complete and total sense considering that like...he comes from this brutal suffering, and this culture that not only wanted him dead, but his mother dead, one that we're given to understand (which we are NOT EVEN TOUCHING THE RACISM YET) seeks to harm women, and anyone different.

And then, instead of being someone safe for her, bonded by the fact that Az came for her, Az found her....Azriel spends five hundred years scaring her?

Azriel disobeys orders and sense to save Elain. We, without his POV, scrabble to dots to connect: Az, who will always come. Az, who cannot stand not to try. Who cannot handle the idea of her tortured, harmed-

And then canon give us his POV- and's like. She was mine. I'm going to duel her soul-bonded man and MURDER HIM?? Because i can do it better! I GET TO HURT HER.

What, and I cannot say this enough, the fuck.

Ignore all the potential, all the fanon, all the fun to be had: Azriel is a professional torturer with anger issues whose love interests are exclusively traumatized, vulnerable women.

(He is also. Incidentally. The most Illyrian-looking of the three Illyrian bros, and yes, this is so fucked up)

It's...not anything new. It's not even bad in an interesting way.

The peeks of possible personality get squashed, almost immediately, by the actual narrative! One jokey night drinking with Feyre because he is, you know, a person, does not cancel out that in THOUSANDS of pages he was so vague fans essentially...made up a whole man is shape.

And. I'm sorry, but even internally there's some hmm who is this character??? dissonance.

Mr. Trauma make me Weird About Women, sees emaciated, visibly hella bruised Nesta, and is like immediately: who hit you???

but then. When his 'brother' thinks its like...the funniest thing in the world that Nesta fell a height that left her IMMORTAL FAERY BODY still fucked up the next day...he doesn't care?

He's like hahaha Cas I'm here to make sure you keep it in your pants about the prisoner WINK WINK

but. One of the only clear character beats we HAVE about him is that Az is the renegade who will Free Every Woman in bondage. Morrigan, who probably has the most reason to have an unstinting opinion of Az, tells Feyre he was going to save her from SPRING

yall. I am not going to read the Az book, I'm sorry.

[bookofmirth]

“I don't care if she's High Lady or not. It's not like the High Lords "earned" their way into the title. Whether she's good at it and whether she is taken seriously are separate issues” SAME. People can put such a high standard for her to meet when she’s NEW at it, she’s not suppose to be perfect like the rest of these 500+ year olds, they were all rookies once too. The fandom being like “she’s not good at it” sis has been hands rebuilding with the people of velaris, helping rhysand with his spending within the court, created an art studio for people and their children and before all of this, she died saving all of prythian from being enslaved, was barely trained but found it in her to defend velaris with her powers of winnowing and water bending, killed hybern soliders on numerous occasions..her and rhysand both saved prythian by fixing the cauldron (rhys died for prythians survival and so did feyre even if she meant to save tamlin at first, she died for prythians survival too) but because Viviane is older and isn’t known to be morally grey like feysand she’s the better leader or “should be the first high lady”….it seems very unfair and just easier for haters to forget the efforts and feats they’ve both accomplished. what other high lord have we seen sacrificing themselves this way? kallias doesn’t seem to care about much outside of his court, thesan seems very neutral, tamlins been shown to be a bad high lord resorting to his families ways, helion is perfect but not a leader, lucien needs to grow more, eris seems to care for the future of prythian (he reminds me a bit of rhysand) tarquin cares too but he seems naive…

Just noticing people pointing out who is better than Feysand when even in canon other peoples actions barely stand out so who else? Viviane may have ruled for 50 years but what can she do for Prythian? she even has less power and strength than feyre does. I like all these lords and stan viv but ..when people try to put another lady above feyre or another lord above rhysand and feysand it’s like okay then, who else would be better? in canon, literally no one..so just hating just to hate. Instead of encouraging feyre to keep maturing and being a great person and high lady with time. If she’s not “taken seriously” screw them lol she’s new at this just like they all once were. And as far as we’ve seen she’s evolved in acosf at least maturity wise, i liked her a lot in Acosf because of how different she felt, older. She felt like a leader in this book and I love that for her

I love Viviane's character, and maybe if things were "fair" and it were her series, she would have been made High Lady first! But this isn't a fair world - it's a world where the leaders are always men, where lesser fae are discriminated against, where there is homophobia and the Court of Nightmares exists, etc. And right, Viviane has less power, literally, than Feyre does. Viviane held down the Winter Court while Kallias was gone and I love that for her. I don't think it should be a competition, "which woman gets there first", because maybe the whole issue is that there should be more High Ladies in the first place.

And it's not Feyre's fault if she's not taken seriously? That feels like a really unfair criticism. Although - I'm trying to think of times when her authority is questioned, and it's pretty much just Az, right? And he only does that because he's starting to lose his chill in general. It's not about Feyre, and Rhys backed her up. Rhys, who knows better and is older and all that. Az getting his panties in a bunch was about Az, not about Feyre. Everyone else in the IC takes Feyre seriously, and that's probably in part because the IC exists in the first place. The IC isn't just Besties of the High Lord, it's a group of people who serve as Rhys (and now Feyre's) sounding board so that they aren't making uninformed, unilateral decisions.

She felt like a leader in this book and I love that for her

Agreed, she seems like the is setting into her High Lady role. I hate that her story was hijacked in acosf, but at least she has her HEA, in general.

[onceupona-chaos]

Cassian and Azriel's reactions to the Archeron sisters

Everything will be supported by the text. English is not my first language, so sorry for any possible mistakes. Be kind and respectful!

I will begin this post with the scene that was the starting point of my thoughts.

The two Illyrians paused their inspection of me long enough to note my sisters finishing up breakfast, Nesta in a pale gray gown that brought out the steel in her eyes, Elain in dusty pink.

Both males went a bit still. But Azriel sketched a bow—while Cassian stalked for the dining table, reached right over Nesta’s shoulder, and grabbed a muffin from its little basket.

Very often Azriel and Cassian show the same reaction to the sisters (in this case, they go still). The scene above is a perfect example of that and of how SJM is always very faithful to the differences between the couples: there's a difference of personality, which will be the one I'll focus here, and of "romantic status". Differently from Nessian, Elain and Azriel were in love with different people when they met each other. We don't know what was their first impression of each other yet, but with this in mind and considering their personalities, makes sense that they needed to get close first, trust each other, and then develop feelings (SJM writes slow burns after all).

Cassian was sizing up Nesta, a gleam in his eyes that I could only interpret as a warrior finding himself faced with a new, interesting opponent.

“I can imagine,” Azriel said. Cassian flashed him a glare. But Azriel’s attention was on my sister, a polite, bland smile on his face. Her shoulders loosened a bit.

In their very first meet, the males were paying attention to each Archeron, but the way they were focusing on them is different. Look at the wording:

sizing up, warrior, opponent;

attention, polite smile;

While Cassian and Nesta "size each other up like opponents" and are loud/rough in terms of personality, Azriel and Elain are both quieter and acting like peacemakers. Here, please remember Feyre noticing how their personalities are similar:

Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.

Basically while Cassian is always provoking Nesta, Azriel puts Elain at ease, because there's a difference of personality. It makes perfect sense that one of them is "enemies-to-lovers" and the other is "friends-to-lovers". Let's go back to the first scene:

“I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. Nesta monitored him like a hawk, but kept silent as Elain took his hand, and out they went. Cassian finished the muffin, licking his fingers. I could have sworn Nesta watched the entire thing with a sidelong glance. He grinned at her as if he knew it, too. “Ready for some flying, Nes?” “Don’t call me that.” The wrong thing to say, from the way Cassian’s eyes lit up.

Even though Cassian and Azriel's first instinct is the same (they go still), how they proceed is again different (Azriel extends his hand like a gentleman and Cassian is all cocky grins).

Cassian pressed one of his knives into Nesta’s hand. “Ash can kill you now,” he said with lethal quiet as she stared down at the blade. (...) “I told you to come to training,” Cassian said with a cocky grin, and strode off.

“This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.” (...) “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.”

Just like Cassian, Azriel offered a blade to an Archeron sister so she could defend herself. Again, let's look at the wording:

Cassian pressed the one of his knives;

Azriel pressed the hilt of the legendary blade;

And again, Cassian: cocky, provokes Nesta; Azriel: softly, gently, puts Elain at ease. Of course, in the TT scene there's much more imagery (Light and Dark/ Death and the Fawn/ the fact that TT is not just one of Azriel's blades), but still both males have the same reaction when Nesta and Elain are about to face danger: they need to be able to defend themselves, so the males provide a blade.

From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

They were speaking, Azriel with some urgency, but Cassian didn’t hear him, heard nothing but the roaring in his head before he said to no one in particular, “I’m going after them.”

They also have the same reaction when the sisters are in danger. As I said before: their first reaction is very similar or even the same in some cases. The major difference here is that we have Cassian's PoV and not Azriel's, but the similarities are so clear:

Unspoken debate = said to no one in particular

I'm getting her back = I'm going after them

Firstly it seems the males are lost in thoughts, so concern about the females, and then they declare they're going to rescue them.

“Do you know,” Cassian drawled to her, “that the last time I got into a brawl in this house, I was kicked out for a month?” Nesta’s burning gaze slid to him, still outraged—but hinted with incredulity.

“What did you see,” Azriel said, and I tried not to flinch as I found him at my other side, not having seen him move. Again. Elain paused halfway up the stairs. Slowly, she turned to look back at him.

It is also very interesting to notice how Cassian and Azriel are the ones that can intervene when the females are "experiencing" their powers. It's like Nesta and Elain use them as some kind of anchor - they both are "lost" in their powers, but can focus on Cassian and Azriel. If Cassian can help Nesta do a scrying, it's Azriel who listen and gets that Elain is a Seer.

Now one of my favorite parallels:

“Are you … happy?” Shadows darkened his hazel eyes. “I’m getting there.” A halfhearted answer. (Cassian, ACOFAS)

Shadows darkened his eyes, full of enough pain that she couldn’t stop herself from touching his shoulder. (Azriel, ACOSF)

Exact same wording. In ACOFAS, Cassian was struggling with his situation with Nesta, and in ACSF it's Azriel who is suffering because of his situation with Elain.

Speaking of ACOFAS, let me highlight this moment:

Nightmares about the moment when Cassian was near death and Nesta was sprawled over him, shielding him from that killing blow, and Elain—Elain—had taken up Azriel’s dagger and killed the King of Hybern instead.

I just find very interesting how the two biggest moments between the couples are brought up here. SJM could had just said Elain killed the king with TT, but she chose to associate that moment with Azriel (she does that very often). Anyway, moving on...

Amren drained her wine and said to Cassian, “Nesta has a week. One more week to find the Trove with her own methods. Then we seek out other routes.” She threw a nod toward Azriel. “Including Elain, who is more than capable of defending herself against the darkness of the Trove, if she chooses to. Don’t underestimate her.”

Cassian and Azriel looked to Rhys, who merely sipped from his own wine.

Here, we have the males reacting to the females getting involve with the Trove (Azriel stiffened/ Cassian growled); then Amren speaks with Cassian about Nesta, and with Azriel about Elain; then both males look to Rhysand

And of course (I'll be brief because there are lots of posts about these lines):

Stupid, stupid, stupid— He didn’t care. Didn’t give a shit as she rose up on her toes, her mouth nearing his—

It was so wrong. He didn't care. He needed to know what her skin tasted like (...) Rhys's voice thundered through him, halting him mere inches from Elain's sweet mouth.

In both bonus chapters, Cassian and Azriel "don't care" about the possible problems and struggles, all they care about is the female before them. Not only the wording is the same, but in both cases the couples almost kiss.

That's the formula right there.

(Her scent) It hit him in the gut so hard he could barely focus, and it took five centuries of training to make himself meet her eyes rather than let his own roll back into his head.

Her arousal drifted up to him and his eyes nearly roll back into his head at sweet scent.

Basically the way these two are affected by the Archeron sisters is practically the same in both bonus chapters. Speaking of that:

I assumed seeing Nesta went about as poorly as could be imagined, because my lesson the following morning was longer and harder than it’d been in previous days. I’d asked what, exactly, Nesta had said to him to get under his skin so easily. But Cassian had only snarled and told me to mind my own business, and that my family was full of bossy, know-it-all females.

Three days passed with no word from Cassian. He’d been replaced in training by a stone-faced Azriel, who was more aloof than usual and wouldn’t even give her a smile.

Cassian in the next morning was still affected by what happened in Wings & Embers, and Azriel - three days later - was still affected by what happened in his bonus chapter. Not only that: these are the only direct references to the bonus chapters in the actual books. The major difference here is that SJM wrote Elain as Azriel's secret, so only the readers that have access to the bonus chapter know why he couldn't even smile (very similar to "Cassian only snarled"). Naturally there's a difference of personality, too: Cassian snarling, totally pissed off/ Azriel more aloof, stone-faced.

It's very clear the direction SJM is going.

[unhealthyfanobsession]

My only ACTUAL RANT about ACOSF- Rhysand

Ok so I’ve gotten a couple asks/ messages about why I still hate Rhys and I mean there are so many reasons...most of which are the same as before ACOSF since his character didn’t change but is just now also someone who hides life altering pregnancy news from a pregnant woman???

But even beyond all of that- a big reason why I’m still an anti is that scene where he warns Nesta to be nice to Gwyn and Cassian calls out a MASSIVE truth- that Rhysand refuses to believe even one decent thing about Nesta. Which is unfair to Nesta, but also made me realize how much more difficult all of this is made for Cassian, and how unfair Rhys’ attitude is to Cassian who never ONCE questioned Feyre.

Why would he have questioned Feyre you ask? Idk how about the fact that when she first came to the Night Court Feyre:

Hated Rhysand

Was only there for a bargain

Was literally about to marry another High Lord

Refused the job that Rhysand offered her in the night court

Didn’t want to stay in the night court

Asks to be taken back to the spring court

And still everyone in the IC is obviously so nice to her because-among other things- she’s Rhysand’s mate and they trust him even if there’s a chance she is a literal actual spy or traitor.

Please now compare that to the scene where Cassian literally tells Rhys to fuck off because he REFUSES TO BELIEVE EVEN ONE DECENT THING ABOUT NESTA.

A woman who:

Has no loyalties outside of the Night Court

Risked her position in the mortal world for the Night Court

Was turned into a Fae for the night court

Trained to repair the wall for the night court

Fought in the war for the night court

SAVED CASSIAN (Rhys’ so called “brother”)’S LIFE

KILLED THE KING OF HYBERN

Still went to the post war strategy meetings

At this point in the book had also already agreed to scry for the Dread Trove even though it’s traumatic as fuck for her FOR THE NIGHT COURT

AND THIS BITCH ASS RICE CAKE CANNOT THINK ONE SINGLE DECENT THING ABOUT HER.

No one even said trust. No one said like.

LITERALLY GIVE HER THE BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT ONE TIME YOU SELF RIGHTEOUS P R I C K

I will NEVER forgive Rhysand for this, tbh. He only forgave Nesta for her great crimes of *checks notes* not hunting at 15 and then being traumatized after a war... when she saved him, Feyre, and Nyx. Someone who has done as much as Nesta has and suffered as much as she has, despite other failings, should not have to STOP TIME AND SPACE AND SAVE THREE LIVES IN ORDER TO GAIN THE FORGIVENESS OF ONE STUPID STAR BLINKING PRICK.

As an addendum I’ll say- I get that Nesta isn’t perfect. She was mean and has addiction issues that needed to be addressed but you know what those things are super common for? VETERAN PTSD. This world CANNOT go on and on about mental health while literally refusing to allow a main male protagonist to forgive a war veteran unless they save everyone just because they “aren’t nice”

[alltheworldsinmyhead]

ON FEYSAND’S PLOTLINE IN ACOSF

              !!!!MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE WHOLE ACOSF!!!!

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Let’s be honest for a while, okay?

ACOCF had potential to be SJM’s best book, if not for any other reason then because of the sheer idea of it. Coming-of-age, healing story of the most complex and polarizing character she has ever created set in the time of peace, away from the familiar setting (according to the later changed concept which still remains in the snippet at the end of ACOFAS), development of her arguably most feisty and angsty love story... It could be her absolute trumph. Even with the change to stick to Velaris instead of exploring the Illyrian culture of the Mountains and with the added conflict of the Mortal Queens and Koshei, it still could work quite well. 

It didn’t. For many, many reasons, but the most important one, in my opinion, being the feysand pregnancy plot. 

Nothing about this plotline made sense. Not a single thing. From start to finish, it was an absolute disaster from the character-writing POV, from the narration POV, from every single context of it. It broke the rules of real-life logic, it broke the rules of this fantasy world setting and it completely exposed that Rhysand, while not a bad guy, is a pretty terrible partner, even worse ruler and an absolutely terrible contender for the High King title. 

Let’s break this whole mess down (and expect this post to be mammoth-sized. it’s not my fault, though, write to SJM if you have any complains):

1) Feyre, 21, decides to get pregnant, even though less than a year earlier, she expresses the delight with not being forced to bear children to her new mate and told him herself she wants to wait a while and enjoy her life with him. Feyre decides she wants a baby though and Rhysand goes along with it, even though he is aware how young Feyre is and how hard her life has been up until this point. He wants a baby too much to have an honest discussion with Feyre about it, to stop and wonder what is the reason for her sudden change of heart, to reassure her that they have a lot of time ahead of them and don’t need to rush. No. She mades a sudden decision to have a baby after A YEAR OF MARRIAGE and not much more of being turned fae, JUST AFTER having her whole world put upside down, having received a completely new title and responsibilities, surviving the wat and being mated. Great. 

2) Feyre decides to get pregnant and Rhys goes along with it less than a year after the end of the bloody war. It is politically a delicate time, everyone is still not sure how the balance will shift, some countries don;t want to sign the peace treaty, etc. There are a lot of enemies and a lot of turmoil remaining. But sure. Let’s have a baby. Perfect time to add yet another target, another weakness that can be use by the Mortal Queens, Beron or whatever else with malicious intent towards the Night Court. 

2) Feyre gets pregnant after approximately a year of trying. I know healthy people of reproductive age for whom it takes ages more than this. Fae’s pregnancies are rare af and precious and happen once in a blue moon, but ofc SJM broke the world’s rules for her darling Feyre. And again, for Kallas and Vivianne who are also expecting the baby, even though it has been a maximum of 3 years since they’ve mated. 3 years is also not a particularly long time to try to have a baby for those who have issues with their reproductive systems like Fae women. Thank you, next. 

3) Rhys has unprotected sex with Feyre in her Illyrian form when she conceives, even though he knows full well having a winged baby would kill her. He does it anyway, for shits and giggles apparently. They probably have sex in the sky above Velaris, for all we know. 

4) The baby has wings. Now, the whole explanation with Illyrian wings being bony (bc they resemble bat wings) and Seraphin ones being more flexible (bc they resemble bird ones) is so insanely stupid that it takes around 3 seconds to wikipedia this shit and find out it’s exactly the opposite. But okay, the baby has wings and Feyre will die while giving birth, along with the baby. Madja forbids Feyre from turning into an Illyrian to carry the pregnancy because it MIGHT hurt the baby. Now, remember, Feyre conceived while in Illyrian form and then turned into High Fae. The baby survived it just fine. The baby MIGHT be hurt by Feyre turning .... but it will FOR SURE die if she stays High Fae and Feyre will too. Idk about you, but I would take the risk of MIGHT instead of FOR SURE. Especially when she is already in labour and dying. Cauldron or Nesta or idk who alters Feyre’s pelvis after the baby is cut out of her for no apparent reason but to allow feysand to make exactly the same mistakes later on. How convinient. And Nesta also alters her own pelvis bc god forbid she won’t be able give Cassian babies like the little useful mate she is now. She should’ve probably done it with Elain too, just in case she decides to fuck Az in the future, because fuck consequences and fuck the stakes in the story that make the readers actually CARE about characters bc they know the author may actually kill them and not save their life every fucking time.  

5) I don’t even want to comment on the fact Rhys hid the true danger of this pregnancy for Feyre and their family went along with it. It is absolutely disgusting. And Nesta telling her and that being condemned as the act of the ultimate cruelty which is a final straw to break her self-loathing back.... is abhorrent. It made my sick, actually, phisically sick. There is no justification for it. No at all. And the fact that they did not even consider abortion sends a message that I really don’t want to think too much about it. Feyre was 2 months along when they learned the baby is winged. 2 months. 8 weeks. It wasn’t a baby yet, let’s be honest. They could’ve at least discussed it. She - oh my god, I cannot believe SJM wrote it this way, I’m gonna be sick. 

6) For the entirety of Feyre’s pregnancy, they have no plan to really help her. Labour plan? Haven’t heard if it.  They have money and power and access to the healers of the whole land. And did not figure out how to stop her from bleeding out after a fucking C-section. THIS WORLD HAS MAGIC AND THEY COULDN’T STOP HER FROM BLEEDING OUT AFTER A FUCKING C-SECTION. Didn’t even ask Thesan, the High Lord of Healing, to be present. Cassian had guts hanging out of his stomach and survived. Az was fucking slashed apart in Hybern and survived. But yeah, Feyre was on a brink of death after a C-section. Great, Sarah. Keep it up. Let’s force the thought into young girls’ heads that labour is the most lethal thing ever, why not. 

7) Also, for the entirety of Feyre’s pregnancy, Rhys keeps quiet about this idiotic bargain. He, as far as we know, doesn’t make any plans for the moment when him and Feyre and possibly their baby are dead. If they died and baby survived.. who would take care of it? Does Rhys have a conversation with his family about it? NAH. Doesn’t write any sort of plan how to keep the Court going, doesn’t inform even the closest of his co-workers how they should proceed to act after he’s gone and his and Feyre’s power go to god-knows-who. Their deaths would mean a sure chaos for the weakend and fragile Prythian and the Night Court especially and yet nor Rhys nor Feyre make any sort of preparations for it. Rhys doesn’t tell his brothers or Mor or HIS SECOND IN COMMAND they will all soon have to somehow manage without him. He was about to just leave them to their own devices and told them in the last. possible. moment. 

And this man - this man is, according to Amren, the best candidate to handle the whole country? To unite it? This fool who makes idiotic bargains, who thinks first about his cock and his own selfish desires and considers his subjects and his responsibilities as a High Lord last and least important of all? Who has so much trust in his wife, in his High Lady, the mother of his son that he doesn’t tell her she will almost surely die on a birthing bed because it MAY UPSET HER? 

This plotline was the straw that broke my back. ACOTAR, at it’s heart has always been a ya fantasy with added ‘spice’ and I was willing to bend my critical-thinking skills in many cases and forget and forgive many smaller idiotic issues in this series. But this? It is not idiotic. It is massive and stupid to the point when it becomes insulting to the reader. It was a plot straight out of a bad fanfic, not something that should be in a published book written by someone who writes for a living. You could even argue that Twilight has handled this toxic trope better.  I have wasted my money on this book and thinking about it will always be painful for me. So yeah.

ACOSF could be great. Ended up quite pathetic. 

[elriell]

Some jumbled up thoughts about Elain, Lucien and Azriel + Mating Bonds

There have been a lot of conversations regarding this topic and I thought I’d flesh it out a bit myself, but these are facts/observations that as a fandom many have noticed, discussed, analysed. I just wanted to dive in myself fully.

I want to talk about each of them individually as well as, as a whole. Their emotions and mindsets, as someone who loves all three characters and wishes for all of them to get a happy ending. I will preface this with saying I will be discussing why it is very likely Elain will reject the bond and such things, so along the lines of Anti-Elucien. If you are a fan of them, thats cool, just skip this one if you happen upon it. 

We are going to dive in to the following;

Lucien & Elain  (their choices)

Lucien & Azriel  (contrast)

Rejecting the Bond

New Bonds

Fate & THE POV 

and why the writing is basically telling us everything we need to know...

Lucien 

Lucien is noble male, he has a good heart and has suffered his plenty, and this is why people want what is best for him, to be the happiest he can... Unfortunately I think that in this case Elain is not it. 

He is right to feel that way, just as Elain has a right to feel as she does. I think it is incredibly interesting that when we finally see from his POV we see that in a way he feels as though this has been thrust on them. 

That with his last love he had a choice and so did she.

It reminds me very much of this line about Rhysand’s parents, who were an example of an unhappy mating bond.

We will deep dive in to wrong matches further down, but the fact is that mated couples are not always indicators of true paired souls, that they very well could be the couple that do not end up happy together.

I speak on Elain and her agency a lot because I feel like a large portion of the fandom like to discard it as if it means nothing, and even judge her for it but if we actually take a look at Lucien’s behaviour he is not all that more happy.

There are some key differences between them though, Lucien as a male feels their bond to a different degree than she does, and he also has been raised to believe and respect the bond. And thus he feels a certain obligation to honour it in the best way he can. 

This doesn’t mean he thinks she is right for him, any further than his attraction to her (which like same dude same), he hasn’t displayed any signs that they actually aline as a couple. And I feel like SJM clearly highlights this when she sets examples of his gifts not being... well right for her. 

The gloves we know she never wears show us how little they know each other as she loves to get dirty [which Feyre had told him] and the pearl necklace is then contrasted by Azriels which was very personalised to Elain. 

(The rose, the secret beauty of it hitting the light etc...)

These are all deliberate moves by Sarah to showcase their misaligned bond.

And during Elain’s section I will also be pointing out some Lucien moments that really don’t read well for him. I genuinely believe he is much happier amongst the Band of Exhiles than he is when he is seen with The Inner Circus.

Elain

Here is the thing, this situation isn’t any easier on him that’s true but people need to respect Elains feelings, and the fact is she does not like him. Not only does she not like him but she shrinks in on herself, she looses all the progress and confidence she has made since the Cauldron. That is not a good sign of anything healthy.

If this is suppose to be a romance we root for why is she doing everything in her power to make it seem the opposite? If she genuinely was playing the long game she would have at least started to make them comfortable around each other, goodness they don’t even have to talk, but she does the opposite.

She emphasises that he brings out the bad in her. Again, no bueno. She quite simply does not want to be around him and with SJM’s writing I think this is highly deliberate on her part. 

[And let’s be clear there are countless quotes from the other books that do NOT reflect well on their relationship but I am trying to stick to ACOSF, as it is her most recent work, otherwise I would be here all day.] 

Rejecting the Bond

We have almost a two page discussion on why mating bonds are not an exact science, and that they can be more harmful than good. We are given two examples of it, with both Rhys’ and Tamlin’s parents. And then we get a very subtle hit at Azriel. This is all in the book Sarah said she began planting the seeds for the sisters journeys.

We also know from this there is a choice. But that many force it, because they feel it it right, (much like Lucien is probably doing right now, because he feels a duty and hope that it will work out.)  

Then we have the fact thrown at us that a lot of males believe that their mate belongs to them and will challenge the other male, which we now have a call back to with Rhys’ mentioning “The Blood Duel”. 

There is literally not one reason Sarah would put this in TWICE only for it never to happen or come close too happening. How anyone can question at this point that Elriel will happen is confusing to me, she has laid all the groundwork for it.

Now I don’t believe for a second that Lucien wouldn’t respect her choice, I think it will most certainly come down to Beron forcing his hand to wage the war we know he wants.

I think despite what Rhys said in Azriel’s POV under immense stress, TNC will protect Elain and ultimately stand by her decision. 

Not only does ACOSF spend a great deal of time creating a further divide between Elain & Lucien it also add a shockingly large quantity of easter eggs about “Elain choosing bonds” “Other Mate” “What if it chose wrong?” and again in this book like in ACOMAF we bring back up a failed mated pair to remind you of it’s existence.

All possible signs lean towards them breaking the bond.

And frankly from a storytelling perspective having three perfect bonds that are basically the same overarching love story (enemies to lovers) is boring, she would want to shake it up and throw a little curveball.

Lucien + Azriel  &  Why I think Azriel will have a bond with Elain.

“If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate” And low and behold it is Azriel who figures out what was going on with her. Not to mention in the reveal SJM further displays that Lucien has no clue what was going on with her.

I don’t know what bridge holds their bond but I wouldn’t trust crossing it personally... :/

Further still, Lucien cannot hear her heart. Their bond is definitely not strong but you could also argue that is not an element of the bond at all but rather of her abilities perhaps. Since we know she could hear the sea too though it was nowhere close by.

But Azriel did hear her, he did pay attention and he figured out what was amiss. 

It is interesting to me that people took such issue with this when I believe very few have issues with Rhys or Cassian fighting for their respective partners. Now I have gone in to it in depth about how I think that this was pure emotion and illogical on Azriel’s part, and I don’t believe he would kill Lucien so carelessly.

I think it speaks to the same blind emotion a lot of them have displayed for their mates, Lucien may have wanted to see if she was worth it but Azriel knows she is worth the fight.

And for all intensive purposes in that moment he was willing to fight for someone he believes shares his feelings.

Now let’s tackle the whole “Possessive” crap.

First of all, all of the male pairings in this series have shown moments like this, so if it is bothering you here why isn’t it bothering you at other points?

Lucien has been just as instinctively possessive from their bond, and let me clarify, I am not shaming him for that anymore than anyone else. What I am pointing out is the double standard, if anything Azriel has more reason to feel like he can fight for her because she has actually shown him care, interest and attraction. 

They have actually bonded a lot more than she has with Lucien thus far.

And if they truly do have an upcoming bond then judging him on three paragraphs when we don’t know what the heck is going on is just ridiculous.

On the same note of that scene, let’s talk about “deserve”

First of all he never said he deserved her, Rhys implied that is what he was gleaning from the conversation and that it is just lust, which we know is not the case. Clearly Rhys perception is not accurate at all so to take his statement at face value and call it fact is a bit disingenuous.

Azriel wasn’t claiming he deserves her, did you read his POV at all?? He didn’t even feel like his hands should touch her let alone deserve her. Please go back and read that chapter again if you can’t see that.

Not to mention I think that the idea of FATE, and believing in hope even when the odds are stacked against you (AKA her having a mate) is actually very consistent with SJM storytelling and Az. Remember this;

The fact that he is hopeful despite the despair of his situation is exactly what people have valued about him. Not to mention after Rhys says this to Azriel he says to them;

So Rhys too believes they were brought in his family for a reason, some sort of fate.

Amren too thinks they are blessed by fate. Why is it so shocking and offensive that Azriel have a little hope that there is a reason they came in to their lives? Because he isn’t with your fav?

Let’s be honest he didn’t exactly get over Mor in ACOMAF, ACOWAR and then even ACOFAS there are slight moments, thats over a long period. Three sisters didn’t just arrive and he went TAG “I want one.”

No, he genuinely grew to care for Elain, and let go of his past, and in watching Elain not find any connection with her mate he saw it as a sign that the Cauldron was wrong, which we know it can be. 

I don’t know if people are selective readers but if you think that he doesn’t care for her as a person beyond being a “sister” I don’t know what to tell you, we are not reading the same books.

ANYWAYS back on topic.

I think Sarah has laid a lot of groundwork for her breaking the bond and perhaps choosing a new one. I know not everyone is keen on another bond as they feel her free will and choice is enough, that’s fair and I agree to a point. 

I just wanted to analyse the data at hand, and I do believe after ACOSF (I never thought it prior really) that they are mates in some capacity, whether that is because of the Cauldron or something that will occur... I think she has laid enough groundwork for them being Soulmates at the least. Hence why I love the idea of a Carranam bond.

There are so many parallels between Rhys, Cassian & Az that could be taken as little signs but honestly this is long enough I am sure you all want to kill me already for making you read all that hahaha 

One last little morsel, it very well might be nothing but Az shouting after they take Elain is an interesting choice, it’s ambiguous enough that you can take it to mean the pain but it could also be another little crumb.

Basically with all said and done I think she will give Elain her agency back and break it.

And potentially something will occur with Azriel as a result but thats certainly more grey than the rest of it.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk!

Obviously, to each their own opinion, have fun and ship whatever you want these are just my thoughts on the text at hand!

(Also I am sorry I got like 20+ messages to get to in my inbox, yeah I kinda ignored everyone and worked on this today, sorry!!! I’ll be back tomorrow)

[exquisitley-obsessed]

Cardinal Catastrophe

Author: @exquisitley-obsessed

Summary: Elain reaches out to Azriel after that dreaded Solstice night and they once again meet under the moonlight in the River House - but everything is different now (post ACOSF, Azriel’s the focalizer) 

Pairings: Azriel x Elain, Elriel

Word Count: 13,300+

Warnings: This does get a bit smutty and then there’s some violence towards the end.

A/N: This is like super long. It basically has everything it’s fluff, smut and angst so yeah, something for everyone. This is probably the longest oneshot I’ve ever written, I don’t know where this has come from but it’s taken me way longer to write than any of my other stuff. There’s a lot of catharsis in this and reflection on how I think both Azriel and Elain think of the situation. You’ll also get a bit of Rhys’ pov towards the ned ;)

Preview: With Elain’s eyes closed he allowed himself to greedily devour the sight of her. Just her face alone captured his attention entirely. With his eyes he memorised the curve of her cheekbones, the specific angle of her brows, even the exact chocolatey shade of her lashes. He went over it again, and again, and again, like a worshipper devouring the holy text. Azriel needed the perfection of Elain committed to memory, because he was sure that one day his luck would run out entirely. That soon he would not be permitted to even these meetings in the dead of night, with only a thousand stars as witness to their mutilated fate.

“Elain...” He tried again; his voice softer than he had ever heard it before. The person he became around Elain was foreign to himself. He had never been someone privileged enough to both love and be loved, not like this. Now that he had tasted such passions, he found he could not always recognise himself. Because he was Azriel, and he was cursed and damned, destined to be alone, to be unloved, mutilated both in mind and morality. He could not love; he shouldn’t be able to love - and yet.

MASTERLIST

It was no exaggeration to say that Azriel’s work was of a most gruesome nature. His daily routine involved cutting into people, making them sing to his shadows, working them like a carcass in a machine until they’d spilt their guts to him before painting the walls with those same organs. As the Night Court’s spymaster, Azriel knew things that would bring kings to their knees, secrets that were interwoven into the foundations of courts, hidden information that would dissolve alliances in seconds; and yet, here he was, pacing the room like a schoolboy as he tried to swallow the fluttery ‘butterfly-like’ feeling twisting his gut.

He’d noticed the note the minute he’d entered the room. A tiny slip of paper that glowed in the moonlight from where it was perched on his work desk, a stark contrast to Azriel’s messy, tea-stained paperwork. Azriel had smelt her on it before he read it, in fact, the second he opened the door to his River House bedroom he was surrounded by her faded aroma. She must’ve breezed in and out, not wanting to overstep her bounds as she left him a note no one else was to read. Knowing her, she was probably currently riddled with guilt for entering his private space, even though, quite frankly, Azriel wouldn’t mind her invading on every aspect of his life, personal or not. Not wanting to face what her scent in his room did to him, he’d crossed the room in three strides and devoured the note in seconds; the words still rang in his head.

I need to see you.

Everything had been fine. Ever since Rhysand’s outrageous demand of Azriel several months prior, Azriel had fallen into a routine, stricter than the last, for ignoring Elain Archeron. He was working more than he ever had before, not just in quantity but in quality. Unnecessarily detailed reports were showing up on the High Lord’s desk of situations that were entirely irrelevant to the current political climate and yet, Azriel thought it was only fair Rhysand suffered somewhat from this situation too.

I’m sorry for everything.

While he was anywhere but Velaris, Elain was never anywhere else, specifically in the River House, a place he had thus far avoided with painful success. Until his High Lady had demanded he come to dinner to celebrate Nesta’s birthday, Nesta who was happier than he had ever seen her before, practically glowing with the dreaded mating bond. It still baffled him how much prevalence mating bonds had played in his life the past few years after 500 years of silence, strings of fate which seemed to only bring about the greatest happiness or the wickedest pain.

I just want to make things right.

They were so happy, all of them. Rhysand with Feyre and Nyx, Nesta and Cassian - and though he just wanted to be glad for his family, the miasma of their bliss was suffocating. Because Azriel had never felt more alone, had never been so buried in his work, so achingly tired from the unnecessary flights and dreary missions, and his harmful behaviour was turning his body into something foreign. Azriel never used to have the constant tautness across his shoulders, nor the constant black shadows under his eyes from the sleepless nights, or the aching muscles that never seemed to heal. But it was necessary – if he wanted to obey Rhysand’s order, if he wanted to maintain civility between courts, and for a plethora of other supposed noble reasons – it was necessary.

I miss you.

He just wanted her. Not in any possessive way, he just wanted to be around her. He’d come to find a specific kind of peace in her company, something about that soothed his worries and aches. So, he missed their walks in the gardens, their shared book recommendations, their inside jokes, their unspoken understanding, their healing. And above all he missed her: her smile, her laughter, the shade of her flushed cheeks, her kindness, her silence.

Azriel hadn’t realised what had been happening to him as they had gotten closer, hadn’t realised how far he’d fallen till Rhysand had pulled him out of the air. Now all that was there, was a lacking. He was busier than ever, but all around him hung the privation of her.

Meet me in the foyer when the sun sets.

So he couldn’t be around his family, couldn’t face their overwhelming joy when he was so, so alone. Maybe it would’ve been better if he had never met Elain, or at least if he hadn’t allowed himself to fall for her. But in those soft moments he shared with her, the brushes of fingertips to the sun-kissed smiles, he’d been forced to face just how alone he was, how alone he had always been. Through Elain, Azriel had had a taste of honest, unwavering love - and yet he was expected to turn his back on such a discovery, by his own family no less.

Please.

He would meet her in the foyer when the sun set. He would follow her to the ends of the Earth if she asked him to, because maybe he was just so masochistic that he didn’t mind meeting Elain only to be reminded of everything he couldn’t have. Reading the note Azriel couldn’t help but think bitterly of how the flower-grower was far more courageous than he. That she was reaching out to him after he had rejected her so brutally. Azriel jolted, flaring his wings slightly to stop the train of thought. That pained, confused look in Elain’s eye when he had said that word, haunted him. Mistake. He’d called it a mistake. Azriel raked his hands down his face and sighed.

He wished he were strong enough to either commit or drop it entirely. He wished he had it in him to do something. Azriel should’ve bitten back at Rhysand all those months ago, should’ve just dealt with this catastrophe back then rather than let it fester and rot under the proverbial carpet.

As time passed in Azriel’s knotted thoughts, the sun plummeted towards the horizon. It was a perfect summers evening, and Azriel stilled at the window to watch as the sun melted the sky into shades of pink and purple. He saw it and thought of the colour of her dress tonight, or even that dress she had worn when she’d made traditional Illyrian biscuits and demanded he tried one. He’d taken it in his pocket and only took a bite when he was alone in the shadows of a different court, and he had savoured every bite, quietly smothering his growing adoration as he did so.

Elain, Elain, Elain. His shadows whispered to him, as though they knew they would soon be in her presence. No one had ever had such an effect on his shadows, and around her he was more aware of them being a separate entity to himself. Though they were bound, around Elain they seemed to grow more confident, they acted of their own accord and would often disappear in her presence, as though his shadows knew he wished to be entirely alone with her.

Foyer...Elain...flower-grower...beautiful. Azriel was inclined to agree. And before Azriel could lose himself to shyness, the sun finally dipped behind the curve of the land, allowing a thousand glimmering stars to prickle through the endless black sky.

She would already be waiting for him, and though Azriel was nervous, he had to restrain some part of himself that longed to throw open the door and jump down the stairs two at a time. Instead, he used the shadows, stepping through them to the base of the large foyer staircase. It would be more silent this way. He wouldn’t make the same mistake of not listening to the corridors as they spoke. For Elain’s sake, he would demand the utmost privacy, even from his High Lord and Lady.

He could see her before she saw him. She was leaning of the Foyer’s centre table, fiddling with the bouquet of flowers in a glass vase - of course she was. All he could see of her was the lower half of her pale gown and her dark golden hair, cascading down her back like a waterfall. The moonlight streaming in through the large French windows gave her an angelic glow, whereas the more sensuous light of the flickering candles painted shadows across her thinly veiled curves. Both warm and cold light coming together to worship the woman who seemed to him as light herself. At the sight of her, Azriel involuntarily sucked in a breath and felt her scent hit the back of his throat, his entire body seemed to sing from her aroma alone, as though it were his own personal drug. Dangerous, this was dangerous, to be with her and to be so alone. He didn’t care.

“Elain,” she didn’t start as he spoke into the thick silence. If she had the confidence to call him here tonight, then he must source some of his own. He at least owed her that. Delicately, Elain turned and looked over her shoulder, her beautiful brown eyes finding his and melting the whole world away.

“You came,” She breathed, her shoulders sagging slightly out of relief. She turned to him properly then, and Azriel flickered his eyes over her so quickly she might’ve mistaken it for a mere blink. But he saw her, saw what she was wearing, and some core part of his soul longed to weep at the sight of her beauty.

Elain was in a nightgown, off-white cotton and silk, with cream and dusty pink lace. Pale ribbons pulled the nightdress around her breasts and down to her naval, dipping in a slight ‘v’ before the skirts flowed around her natural curves and then dropped to the floor. The neckline was agonisingly flattering, though Azriel was sure he wouldn’t look twice at the nightdress on anyone else. Her creamy skin seemed browner in the warm candlelight of the house, and as the shadows flickered, he was aware of how her collarbones stretched out to the curve of her shoulders, how she didn’t have freckles on her chest and arms but rather a specific constellation of moles, even how her hair was impossibly thick and, if memory served him well, soft too. Upper sections were pulled away from her face in an intricate pattern of braids and ties, and yet lock after lock of pale brown hair cascaded down her back and over her shoulders, framing her angelic face. Oh, that face. Poets and painters alike would weep at the sight of that face. The small, angled eyebrows that somehow made her doe eyes bigger, the freckles across her cheeks and nose, her plush lips-

“I know that you’re avoiding me,” she began, crashing Azriel back into reality. He shifted slightly, ruffling his wings as though to wake himself up. Her voice wasn’t accusing, but calm and quiet, “I know there’s a reason why you’re never around. For a while I thought you were just cooped up at the House of Wind but Nesta says that she never sees you...no one ever sees you anymore.” Azriel stayed quiet, just holding her gaze. He never needed to speak around Elain, she had quickly understood that when he had something to say, he would say it, but till then, he was comforted by the silence. And so she continued, more nervous now.

“I don’t want to be...narcissistic...but it seems to me that you’ve been distancing yourself with everyone after what happened on Solstice and...” She shifted uncomfortably, her confidence running out as she looked down at the floor and wrung her hands. “I can’t take it. I can’t take being the person whose pushed you away and I...I think we need to talk about it - or not talk about it - I’m not sure. I just, I don’t want you to avoid me anymore, even if that means we pretend that it never happened, that’s fine. I just...”

He could tell her right now the exact reason why he couldn’t be around her. Elain, he would say, I would do anything to be around you. I would kill a thousand men just to have the privilege of your company. But I can’t, Elain. Because when I’m around you, everything turns inside out, I forget everything I’m supposed to be afraid of. I become this person around you Elain, I become someone who I’ve always wanted to be, and I don’t know how to be him, if I even can. I’m not used to this, to wanting something so viscerally it feels as though I might fall apart every day I don’t see you. Elain, I don’t know how to choose happiness, I don’t know how to be selfish in that way, and above all...I don’t know how to fix this.

“I don’t care if you don’t want me like that, not if it comes at the price of your friendship. I still...need you in my life, Az,” Elain was whispering now, her large eyes slightly glassy in the candlelight. 

Azriel couldn’t help but think that Elain was evidentially stronger than him, that she could still want to be around him even if he supposedly didn’t want her. If the roles were reversed, if it had been Elain who had pushed him away, he was pretty certain he would’ve manipulated his work to make him leave the Night Court for at least several years. Of course, she was stronger than him, he was beginning to think she was stronger than them all, because of this exact trait of hers - forgiveness.

“Please...say something,” Elain’s broken voice rose through the silence. She looked at him again, tears threatening to spill. Her looking at him in such a way made something deep in his chest twist, and twist and keep on twisting. 

He didn’t know what to do, so he took a step forward, and another and another, until he was a foot’s distance away from her. The whole time her eyes never left his, her hands still twisting together at the front of her beautiful, beautiful dress. He opened his mouth to speak but once again Elain had rendered him speechless. Where could he begin, how could he begin - how could he fix this?

“Elain...” was all he managed in the end, but that seemed to be enough to soothe her as her eyes fluttered shut and she breathed deeply at the sound of her name mingled with his breath.

With Elain’s eyes closed he allowed himself to greedily devour the sight of her. Just her face alone captured his attention entirely. With his eyes he memorised the curve of her cheekbones, the specific angle of her brows, even the exact chocolatey shade of her lashes. He went over it again, and again, and again, like a worshipper devouring the holy text. Azriel needed the perfection of Elain committed to memory, because he was sure that one day his luck would run out entirely. That soon he would not be permitted to even these meetings in the dead of night, with only a thousand stars as witness to their mutilated fate.

“Elain...” He tried again; his voice softer than he had ever heard it before. The person he became around Elain was foreign to himself. He had never been someone privileged enough to both love and be loved, not like this. Now that he had tasted such passions, he found he could not always recognise himself. Because he was Azriel, and he was cursed and damned, destined to be alone, to be unloved, mutilated both in mind and morality. He could not love; he shouldn’t be able to love - and yet.

“I’m sorry,” He began, his voice barely audible. And by the way Elain’s brows furrowed slightly and her mouth tightened, he knew that she knew he was talking about the last time they’d been here, in this foyer. “I wish things were different,” He whispered, now trying to memorise the exact constellations of her freckles.

“Me too,” She breathed, her eyes still closed. “I wish I was different,” She surprised him by whispering.

“Don’t...” He murmured, silently stunned, “You...you don’t know how you...” But he had to stop himself mid-sentence, had to bite his tongue between his teeth hard enough to draw blood. Because if he started to talk, he wouldn’t stop. He would tell her everything, and he wasn’t quite ready to be so vulnerable, not when he didn’t know how to be vulnerable at all.

“I...” She opened her eyes and seemed to look at him as though for the first time. After a long pause she spoke again, “I wish I had courage.”

“Courage?” Elain paused and shifted slightly from foot to foot, as though she were debating what she would say next.

“I want to be strong, like my sisters...I want to etch out my own path rather than fumble in the dark.” Azriel thought for a moment.

“You are strong, whether you perceive yourself to be or not.” He wanted nothing more than to reach up and stroke his hand along her smooth cheek, instead he dug his nails into his already marred palm and focused on the pain’s bite.

“I will never be a general,” Elain whispered, her eyes still damp, “I will never be a High Lady or a leader, I don’t care for any of that...I wish I did. You can’t imagine how badly I wish I...” Her words ran out and her eyes became slightly glossed over and detached. Again, he felt the urge to touch her, to ground her back in reality, but he just dug his nails in deeper. “I don’t belong on battlefields, though I’d always fight when the world needed me but...I’m not a warrior; and that petrifies me.”

Again, Azriel paused, taking time to absorb every word Elain offered to him under the moonlight. Azriel adored Elain, he could’ve stood there for an hour and listed everything about her that had brought him hope. How her outlook on life had been so foreign to him, so unrealistic when he first met her, that it was extraordinary now just how jealous he was of her ability to look at the morbidity of the world, and still seek out the good.

“In a world of endless bloodshed and bitterness, do not be ashamed of not wanting to be a warrior,” Azriel whispered.

“But I’m useless,” Elain quickly interjected, “I have all this power, I feel it stirring in me and there is no part of me that wishes to manipulate it or-or exploit it.” Elain’s hands came up and danced in the air as she spoke, another quirk of hers he’d both memorised and adored. Azriel thought again, long and hard, before he spoke.

“I’ve been around a lot longer than you, and from what I’ve learnt of people is...that they’re horrible,” Azriel watched as Elain’s eyes widened and drank in his words and something twisted in his chest. People didn’t look at him like that when he talked. His brothers would wink and laugh with him, his enemies cowered and flinched, those whom he bedded would smile slyly or watch his mouth as he murmured dirty things in the dead of night. But no one looked at him like that, as though he were reciting poetry, as though he were beautiful enough to say something worthy of those big eyes and parted lips.

“You wouldn’t believe the horrors I’ve seen, or the court secrets I’ve uncovered. The way people, particular those in positions of power, treat each other, treat those around them and those below them - it’s tragic. It’s merciless and cruel.” Elain was still drinking him in, still hanging onto his every word.

“I think over the centuries, I myself became desensitised to the horrors of power and politics. Especially given my start in life. When you were human I understood your naivety, your belief in the good of the world, especially after your riches had returned and your life was content.

“But what I didn’t understand was how you continued to believe good after everything you went through. After facing the most brutal torture from the Cauldron itself...you still chose to believe in the wonderful and I-I didn’t understand that. Because I couldn’t do that. Because I’d never believed in the good of people the way you do...I had never even believed in the good of myself.

“Please don’t think that kindness is something small, or something that can be overlooked. Because when the world is little more than ruin and rubble, kindness is all we have left. We’ve just been alive so long that we forget about it, us Fae, we’ve spent so much of our lives at war that it’s easy to forget why we’d even engage in such bloodshed. It wasn’t till I met you that I was reminded that such things as tenderness and humanity even existed outside my family, and once the wars were about defending those virtues rather than snuffing them out…I just, I can’t help but think that if there were more people like you in the world, maybe Prythian wouldn’t succumb to carnage every few decades, just so that the heartless noblemen of this land can feel something.”

Azriel hadn’t meant to speak for so long, in fact, he didn’t quite understand where the words had even come from. They were true, of course. He did whole-heartedly believe everything he had just said, he just hadn’t realised how much he’d ached to say it aloud. Elain was still staring at him wide-eyed, and then there was the worst thing of all, a single tear spilling over her damp eyes and trickling down her cheek.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“No,” Elain whispered, suddenly reaching out and sliding her palm into his from where it was hanging limp at his side. Electricity shot through his arm, and he forced himself to look at her in the eye as he tensed his legs so that they didn’t crumple underneath him. “No, it’s good I’m, I’m glad you said it I...”

But again, words seemed to evade Elain as she looked up at him. Azriel was now hyperaware of her how close she was, of her smooth palm that fit so nicely in his own. His body often reacted on its own accord around Elain, and he had spent months leashing his desires into chains, beasts that could only come out in the dead of night. But since that dreaded Solstice night last winter, everything had changed.

Life these past few months had consisted of the battle between two extremes. Either he was drowning in the way his body seemed to ache and beg for her, his mind obsessing over their stuttering relationship as though it were a philosophical debate. Especially since he now knew that some part of her wanted him and had wanted to kiss him even with her mate sleeping upstairs. The fact that he now knew what her scent tasted like, how her voice sounded when it was breathy and desperate - it all fuelled the fantasies that haunted him the moment he made it back to his room. He could be on the other side of Prythian and somehow the presence of Elain Archeron would find a way to him.

The other extreme was complete and total deprivation. The reality that he hadn’t seen her for months, that she would soon exist more in memory than experience. Even though his fantasies of her were so visceral, so tangible, the reality that she was not in the room with him always came crashing down by the time his head had cleared - and then he’d feel more alone than ever before.

But when he was here, with her, the argument ceased. The torture and the pain, the writhing mind and aching debates, it all fell into beautiful silence. And so, looking at her now, he was unable to help himself. And without thought, he reached up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear as he murmured under his breath, no more than a whisper, “Elain Archeron...saviour of the cursed and damned...”

As Azriel’s fingers grazed Elain’s cheek, a horribly confused and upset look twisted her face. She seemed to freeze at the contact and Azriel halted at her discomfort, internally berated himself for pushing her too far, for being so arrogant in thinking he could touch her in such a way.

“I...Azriel...I don’t understand,” Elain’s breathless voice seemed to caress him, and once more he found himself tensing his legs so that they wouldn’t give out under him. “You don’t want me...you said it was a mistake...” Azriel stilled, and he caught her eye in a moment of alarmed sobriety.

“You and I both know that’s not true.”

He couldn’t stop the words before they spilled from his lips. It didn’t matter how soft, how quiet, his voice was, the words were innately harsh and something deep against his spine lurched at the thought of her hurting her - of hurting her again.

But Elain didn’t flinch. Her eyes, instead of widening in shock, stayed stoically still and calm. And then Azriel watched as those honeyed eyes he loved so much lapsed darker and darker, the floral musk of her arousal drifting to him like a moth to a flame, the same scent he’d been dreaming of for months, the memory of it alone making his body achingly hard and taut, as though his own skin existed only to respond to the call of hers.

The scent surrounded him, sending blood to his cock which was now throbbing viscerally against the seams of his leathers. His arousal had never felt so tight before, so extreme and sudden. He felt it, heavy in his lower abdomen, twisting and knotting his guts in both pain and pleasure. That was familiar, that he’d felt a hundred times before, but for Elain Acheron his whole body seemed to sing. His blood burned under his skin as it pounded through his body, whilst his heart was light and fluttery in his chest, as though it might edge up his throat and fall from his lips. His eyes felt heavy lidded as though he were drunk, and even though he were standing stoically still, even though he hadn’t done anything yet, he found himself short of breath.

He had never wanted something more - never. Not Mor. Not a job. Not a secret, not information. Not salvation, not mercy. God, it seemed as though in this instant, Elain had invented want for him.

He would beg for her. Right now, in the foyer where he’d first tasted this personal drug. Had Elain not been holding him up by her eyes and a single palm he would already be on his knees. He moved to fall down before her, like a worshipper at a temple, when movement at her mouth caught his eye. Azriel watched as her delicate, pink tongue slowly dragged along her lower lip to wet it as she blinked innocently at him. Azriel’s resolve was gone in a puff of smoke.

Fuck Rhysand. Fuck Lucien. Fuck the Mother, the Cauldron, the world. Fuck anyone who stood between him and Elain who he knew, he knew, wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Because of course she did. Because whatever this was, whatever was happening between them, was otherworldly and impossible to ignore.

And good luck to them, was the last though Azriel had before he leaned in. Good luck to anyone who ever dare stand between him and her, because he’d kill them - he’d fucking kill them.

Despite his body beating like a drum for Elain’s melody, he did not kiss her right away. Once he’d accepted that he would kiss her, once he’d come to that inevitable conclusion it felt like a thousand doors of golden light opened before his eyes, and it took everything he had to not sob with joy.

All those fantasies he had revelled in for the past year that had been shrouded in a miasma of fantasy and shame, rolled through his mind clear as day. He could kiss her lips. Those soft pads of blushing rose that he had already committed to memory. Or he could trace down and press his lips to the sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder, a crook of intimacy that he’d already figured out from watching her protect it with her hands when someone stood behind her. He could kiss her temples, her cheeks, her throat - every fucking inch of her.

Now that his resolve had snapped like an elastic band stretched too far, he found that he was finally free. Looking at her he hadn’t realised how long he had taken, how slowly he was leaning in until Elain’s fingers suddenly gripped the leathers across his chest and her brows furrowed as she pulled closer to him, her eyes dark and desperate, her mouth wet and parted as she half-gasped, half-whispered, “Please....Azriel...”

He did moan then. A low, throaty sound that escaped him at the sound of his name intertwined with her breathy gasps. He snapped.

He had intended to savour every second of kissing her, but the moment his lips touched hers, he felt fire. Elain’s hands ran up his chest before intertwining themselves in his hair as she pulled herself against him and he moaned again, the second time in a minute, into her mouth. Because he could feel her, all of her, pressed against his hot throbbing body. The soft pressure of her breasts, the bones of her hips, even one of her legs had tucked between his own, the sides of their knees brushing together. She was going to kill him. She was going to fucking kill him.

And then there was her mouth. Softer than petals, and so obviously hers in taste and touch. Every time their lips brushed, every time he felt her perfect breath mingling with his own, shivers erupted across his body. Unable to stop himself he brushed back her hair before firmly grasping the side of her neck, his hand was so large against her velvet skin that he knew he could probably hold her entire throat in one hand. He put it there as an ode to the last time he’d been here. He’d put it there as a fuck you to fate.

His other hand curled around her waist and pressed against her back where - and he moaned again - Elain’s exposed skin greeted him.

He wanted to take her right her. Wanted to lie her down on the carpet and bury his head between her thighs as he had done so many times before in his fantasies. How he ached to taste her, all of her, to pin her writhing thighs back with one hand and wrists with the other. He wanted to look at her perfect angelic face as he made her sing sinful sounds for him. Wanted to make her toes curl and back arch as she came on his tongue. Again, and again, and again.

Elain tugged slightly on Azriel’s hair and he was thrust back into his body, back into the present, and he had to stifle another moan because those thousands of fantasies had nothing, nothing, on this.

In response to Elain’s needy tug, Azriel bent slightly and curled a hand around the back of each of her thighs and hoisted her up against his chest. Elain, much to his delight, snapped her legs around him as he lifted her against his chest, their lips still ferociously dancing. He only had to walk a few paces to set her against the edge of the lobby table, but that particular move was one that had been haunting him more recently of late.

He went to pull away after she was set down on the wooden tabletop. He wanted to see her, with her hair ruffled and her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen and her chest heaving. He wanted to commit that image to memory because there was still some part of him that could not believe this was real.

But as he moved to step back, Elain caught him off guard as her legs tightened from where they were wrapped around his hips, something of a growl arising from the back of her throat as she fisted his leathers and pulled him against her. Azriel obeyed her, like a puppy on a leash, leaning his hands against the table, either side of her hips, in order to stay standing.

She was flushed against him once more. Her breasts pushed against his chest which felt suffocated by the Illyrian leathers, he ached to have her skin brushing against his own, but all in good time. He slipped his tongue into her mouth then and revelled in the juxtaposing thrill and relaxation of exploring her in this way. But there was still an inch of space between their hips. He didn’t know why he left it there, even when Elain dragged him against her, perhaps it was because he knew the minute they were aligned in cardinal perfection, there would be no turning back. He would be hers and vice versa, and she would be his muse and his priority, and he would put her before everything - even his High Lord.

To steady himself, Azriel made the mistake of taking his hand and bracing himself on Elain’s thigh. What he was not expecting was for his palm to find the soft, exposed flesh of her leg from where her dress must’ve mischievously ridden upwards when he had lifted her.

Purely on instinct, Azriel moaned and drove his hips forward into her core, earning a breathy sigh from them both as they finally found an inch of friction in their writhing. There was only fabric now. Measly layers of fabric that came between them.

“Fuck...” Elain gasped into his mouth and some outrageously animalistic part of him growled in satisfaction at having pulled a sinful swear from her angelic mouth. Azriel kept one hand against the wood near her hips to stay steady, to stop himself from grounding his hips into her like an uncontrollable beast, the other stayed on the warm, smooth flesh of her exposed thigh.

Slowly, he began to trace rough circles with his thumb on her inner thigh earning a flutter of breathy sighs to dance from her lips which pleased his soul to no avail. Azriel parted from her lips and began to pepper kisses along her jawline as he torturously inched his thumb up, inch by inch with each circle. When Azriel began to kiss and suck on the spot just below her ear he allowed himself to peek at her as he worked.

Her head was tilted back slightly, her throat bobbing as high hums fluttered from her. If he could paint he would paint the perfect blush of her swollen lips. If he were a poet he would turn her breathy moans into the sweetest of sonnets. And then she tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth as a soft moan escaped her and he had to look away, if only to stop himself from reaching down and fisting himself at the sight of it.

With his head turned Azriel hissed out of surprise as his thumb rubbed against a sticky sweetness coating her inner thigh. God she was wet. And as he rubbed further, coating his thumb in her essence, he had to bite his cheek as to not come in his pants like a schoolboy. Azriel stopped rubbing circles in favour for taking his first finger and tracing back and forth over the highest point of her thigh, slow and torturous as he familiarised himself with the feel of her. His heart threatening to beat out of his chest when his fingers brushed against a lacy frill at the apex of her thigh. Tilting his head Azriel was able to husk into her ear.

“What do you want Elain?” His voice was low and breathy before he caught her lobe between his teeth. Another shuddering gasp floated from her lips. 

“I want you to touch me...and I don’t want you stop,” the sound of her voice so mingled with pleasure and need was almost enough to undo him. “Ever,” She went on, “Not until I don’t know my own name.” 

She was going to kill him. Growling in satisfaction he rewarded her answer with one quick brush over her lace underthing's, the touch was like electricity for them both. Elain physically tremored as Azriel finally brushed where she needed him most, and Azriel shuddered at the contact with the girl of his dreams. 

“Please, Azriel,” Azriel stilled for a moment, wondering how she would react to his instinctual next move. His particular flavour of making love.

“Say that again,” He said slowly, his voice barely more than a brutal, low husk. As he spoke Azriel allowed some of his power to ebb into the words, the siphons a top his hands guttering as they came to life. It felt slightly wrong to use such a voice on her, the one he so often used with enemies, but Azriel watched as Elain’s lips parted, her pupils expanding as her breath grew heavy in response to his dominant voice. Oh, Azriel couldn’t help but think in agonising awe. Maybe his deep assumptions, the ones that only haunted him in that void he entered before he fell asleep, were true. That Elain, the purest of sisters, was also the filthiest.

“Please, Az,” Her voice was breathy and pleading, but there was something alight in her eyes as she begged him.

“Good girl,” Azriel couldn’t stop himself from husking as he peeled back the top of the lace. They both stared unwaveringly into each other’s eyes as Azriel dipped his hands along her, not touching just hovering. He held his hand there, an inch away from where she needed him most, waiting until she almost whimpered before he slid a single finger slowly through her folds. 

Her reaction was blissful to see. The way she bit her lip, her back arched, and her eyes fluttered shut. Azriel moved with her, his own mouth parted, and brows furrowed as he stroked her again.

“Don’t close your eyes,” He murmured in his voice of steel, “Look at me.” Elain’s eyes snapped open, and it was his turn to be caught off guard. Gone was the hazelnut colour, even the sensuous black he had somehow lulled them into, what met him was the colour of bright honey and her eyes, they were glowing. They stood out like gemstones being pierced by golden light. It was then that Azriel began to take note of their surroundings and realise that the thrumming was not just happening inside him but all around him. Ripple after ripple of raw, ancient power was bleeding from Elain, fizzing into the air and turning the entire foyer into something alive and electric. A shiver ran along Azriel’s entire body as his own powers itched to sing in harmony with hers; cobalt energy rising to meet her golden light.

Her folds were dripping, and he was having an internal debate on whether or not to rip off her underwear. On one hand he would have better access, he would be able to pleasure her better, and he could even push her back against the table and lower his head and taste her. On the other, he couldn’t stand being disconnected from her for a second. 

Whilst he debated, he slowly raked his finger up her again before finding that small bundle of nerves. When he caught it with his fingertip and began to drag slow, luxurious circles over it, a throaty, guttural moan escaped her lips. He bit his cheek again. He wondered if anyone had fucked her like this and again, that pride bloomed when he realised that he might be the first. Not her first, but the first person to show her the true ecstasy of pleasure.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” Elain gasped as her head fell forward on his shoulder. Azriel allowed the eye contact to break, too absorbed by the feeling of having Elain writhing under his fingers to care.

He’d always thought that he could die a happy man if ever he was blessed enough to experience such a joy as Elain Archeron, but now he realised what a stupid notion that was. Because Elain wasn’t cause for death but cause for life. He’d live for Elain, Azriel realised. Elain who was writhing and mewling into his shoulder as he slowly brought her to the ecstasy she deserved. She was close and following this he would winnow them away to either his unused apartment in central Velaris, or deep in the gardens on this summer night, where they would be entirely alone, and everything would be perfect. And once they’d had their fill on the pure bliss of one another they could talk about everything, and they’d find a solution and they’d work it out, and everything would be okay - and then Rhysand walked in, and everything came crashing down.

Some part of Azriel’s hazy mind had been aware of the movement deep in the house but it had been so, so inconsequential compared to what was in front of him. And his shadows, well his shadows were nowhere to be seen, not with golden light quite literally thrumming from Elain. There had been no warning, and as Rhys met Azriel’s eye when he still had his fingers flush against Elain some primal part of Azriel reared its head.

In an instant Azriel’s siphons were spluttering to life as power surged through Azriel, his wings instinctively flaring as wide as they would stretch, so that the cresting talon of each wing scraped into the polished walls. Rhys, who was standing at the edge of the foyer, an unrecognisable expression scorched into his face, was a threat at that moment, and the whole world seemed to still as Azriel slowly came down from the high of his arousal.

Slowly, Azriel removed his hand from Elain’s underwear and smoothed down her skirts to cover her legs, all the while never moving his eyes from Rhys. He didn’t care if he was in for the doghouse, didn’t give a shit about what consequences his happiness had just induced - Elain came first.

And right now, even though it was a ludicrous thought, Azriel was preparing himself to protect Elain from Rhysand. Elain’s whose nightgown had slipped down her shoulder, whose eyes were wide as she glanced over her shoulder at her brother-in-law, exposed and vulnerable just as she’d been on the worst night of her life.

“Azriel,” Rhysand finally spoke and Azriel shifted slightly to pull Elain closer to his chest. “My office...now.” It seemed as though all sense of formality had dropped as Rhysand’s High Lord voice billowed into the room. Azriel didn’t speak, didn’t move either, just shifted his eyes to Elain whose face was blanch and confused.

“Can’t this wait?” Azriel asked, his voice low and full of strength. Instantly he realised that he should’ve worded his question better. He didn’t want time in order to finish off what he and Elain had begun, but rather to give Elain a moment to breathe, for her to fix her dress and smooth her hair, for her to do whatever she needed to do before she was forced to face her family. Rhysand’s eyes darkened, and he entered the room in a low stride, both hands digging deep into his pockets. Azriel moved instantly, stepping around Elain to put himself in front of her as Rhysand approached.

Without a word Rhysand came closer and closer, and Azriel continued to stretch his wings to cover Elain from whatever vitriol was about to be thrown his way. But Rhysand didn’t say anything, he didn’t even move suddenly, just reached out a single hand until it was barely touching Azriel’s arm as darkness surrounded them both.

Before Azriel even had a chance to realise that Rhysand was winnowing them away – away from Elain – they were standing in his office, and Azriel couldn’t help but shake his head at the slight Deja-vu of the whole situation. Except this time, he wouldn’t be bounding himself in shackles, he’d be setting himself free, whether Rhys wanted him to or not.

Azriel was standing in front of the large mahogany desk of Rhysand’s office whilst it’s owner moved behind it, one hand still in his pocket. Already the air in the room was taut with energy, as though the very air were cowering in the face of the upcoming argument. And still Azriel’s mind was still thinking of the girl in the foyer, her name like a mantra beating through his body,

“Put your cock away Azriel,” Rhys immediately spat in response to the ripples of cobalt energy rippling from Azriel’s form. Azriel didn’t deem the childish comment with a retort, though his arousal was already gone, and quickly replaced by the tautness of anger and frustration. His shadows had returned to him now that he was away from Elain, and they were writhing uncontrollably around his legs and back.

Azriel stayed standing, folding his arms over his chest just for something to do. It was then that Rhys sighed heavily, leaning against his desk and hanging his head. He wasn’t as tired nor as desperate as when they’d last spoken like this - of this. No, now Rhys had everything. Everything he had ever, and could ever want, and now his fight lay in protecting the paradise he had found in Feyre and Nyx. Whilst Azriel was still in the dark, still alone, still secretly in agony - they were not the same.

“I gave you the simplest of orders,” Rhys sighed like a disappointed father and something brutally aggressive awoke in Azriel. How dare he, how dare Rhys speak to him like that?

“I know,” Azriel said, his voice indiscernible and calm. Rhys swung his head up to glare at Azriel, something emotional lingering in his violet eyes.

“You know? Then, Azriel, why did you take it upon yourself to disobey me?” Azriel’s grip on his biceps tightened. 

“Elain is...” Azriel began before he had to lower his eyes. What was Elain? How could he explain to Rhys the inexplicable way he felt about the angelic gardener? The effect she had on him, it was both irrational and yet made perfect sense. And right now, he could barely focus with knowing that somewhere in this house she was looking around confused, wondering what the hell had just happened. “She’s important to me. More than you realise.”

“She has a mate.”

“That is irrelevant-”

“Irrelevant?” Rhysand looked as though he might laugh and Azriel once more gripped his arms tight enough to bruise. “I thought I made it perfectly clear to you Azriel that the bond between Elain and Lucien-” Azriel growled at his name, Rhys ignored him, “-is paramount to the civility between us and not just the Autumn Court, not just the Spring Court or the Day Court, but also the Band of Exiles and the Human realms.”

“And have you ever wondered if maybe Elain deserves better?”

“Better than Lucien-” Rhys practically squawked. 

“No,” Azriel growled, allowing his anger to show, “Better than us. Better than a family who reduce her to little more than a political pawn-”

“She is my sister,” Rhysand spat, standing up straight with a newfound intensity. “Don’t you dare question my treatment of her, don’t you dare suggest I don’t care for her.”

“Are you truly so out of touch that you do not see the shackles you’ve tied around her wrists?” Azriel uncurled his arms, “You’ve stripped her of any choice-”

“This is not about choice!”

“This has everything to do with choice!”

“Elain is a valued member of my family but also of my court. As her High Lord, I have made a difficult decision but one that will undoubtedly strengthen this us in the now impending war. It was a tough decision and if you want me to be the bad guy, fine, I’ll be the bad guy, but you will obey my orders as this is the best choice for Elain.”

“Then why don’t you ask her,” Azriel growled, grappling with the internal leash on his powers, “Why don’t you actually include her in the decisions you’ve made about her life.”

“I don’t know what you’re insinuating,” Rhys flicked invisible lint from his suit, “But Elain is a valued member of these discussions.” 

“Then why isn’t she here?” Azriel husked quietly, full of venom. Rhysand apparently didn’t have anything to say to that, so Azriel went on. “You claim to value choice Rhysand, and yet you’ve stripped Elain of not just her own volition, but the simple knowledge of the choices made about her life.”

There was something bitter clanging through Azriel as he spat the words, he knew what it was, it was a word - hypocrite. Because whilst Azriel was fighting for Elain, really he should be allowing for Elain to fight for herself. He should’ve left the office the minute Rhysand winnowed them and searched for Elain. He should’ve told her, all those months ago, about why he could no longer be around her. And that’s why Elain deserved better, better than Rhys and better than him, because even now they talked of her rather than with her.

“You are to stay away from her,” Rhysand said at last, glaring out the study’s window almost as though he was ignoring Azriel.

“I can’t do that. Not anymore,” Azriel husked, and Rhys paused, catching Azriel’s eye before he hastily looked to the side and raked a hand through his hair. 

“I told you, Azriel. I told you to stay away from Ly-” Both Azriel and Rhys’ eyes widened at the name that nearly fell from Rhysand’s lips. A revelation occurring to them both as the name Rhys’ long deceased sister was brought into the room. “Elain,” Rhys corrected himself, acting unbothered by his slip. “I told you stay away.”

Azriel didn’t know how to respond. He’d spend hours in training rings, on long haul flights or espionage ventures thinking of this specific argument. The way he’d tell Rhys all the things he should’ve said on that Solstice night, about the disservice they were both doing to Elain, about how it was outrageous of Rhys to demand Azriel put politics before his happiness after, well, everything. 

After Azriel had spent 500 years alone with only a doomed infatuation with a woman who would never love him back. After Azriel had always favoured to be alone, to suffer in silence, to take the blame, and now he finally had an out. After Azriel had to put up with both his brothers finding their perfect happiness, Rhys himself almost starting a war by perusing and protecting Feyre.

Why was it so different for him? Why was it the moment Azriel had happiness within an arm’s reach there were a thousand excuses for him not to have it? What was so poisonous about his desires? About him?

“She’s not Lydia,” Azriel said at last. It was a low blow. Especially since Rhys had so clearly tried to cover up his slip a moment ago. “For one, you would never treat Lydia with such little respect. Elain is her own person and I’m not going to fight with you, or Lucien, or anyone for that matter like she’s some kind of prize.”

This argument was too real. Of course, they’d had arguments before, all three of them had. Azriel could remember a particularly nasty one between Cassian and Rhys where they hadn’t spoken for a year, Azriel bouncing between them like an owl. But this wasn’t a brotherly squabble, not when the stakes were so high.

Rhys sighed, still not meeting Azriel’s eye as a muscle in his jaw ticked. It seemed as though the High Lord also understood the irregularity of the dispute, or maybe he was just furious at facing his own errors, at his spymaster criticising him on failing someone so important on a matter which Rhysand prided himself on - the volition of the women in his life. After what happened with his mother and his sister, to find out he was now failing his new family must be driving him mad.

“You just can’t keep it in your pants can you Azriel?” 

It may have been less shocking if Rhys had just leaned over and stabbed Azriel in the gut. His words clanged into the air with a sour metallic taste, and for a moment Azriel lost his breath, his jaw slackening as his shock registered before he could swiftly cover the expression with the mask of steel he’d perfected. The silence following the comment was perhaps worse than the blow itself. Now it was Azriel who couldn’t stand looking at his brother. He didn’t care if Rhys looked apologetic, didn’t care for him at all. 

“Do you really think so low of me?” Azriel’s voice was deathly quiet, before he finally shifted his eyes up to see the raw regret plastered on his brothers face.

“No, I-” A vicious knock came at the door then, interrupting whatever apology Rhys was going to throw his way.

“Open the door,” Came Elain’s voice, more brutal than he’d ever heard it before. Something electric shot through Azriel at the sound of it, of her. If anything, her voice was a reminder that this was real, that his hair was tousled, and lips swollen because of Elain-fucking-Archeron.

Rhys didn’t move for the door, so Azriel did. Turning around, he walked the length of Rhys’ office to the large double oak doors and pulled one back without hesitation. He knew she deserved to be here, that she should’ve been here from the start. 

Azriel was so set on opening the door for the sake of justice and fairness that he momentarily forget that it was Elain on the other side, and the sight of her made his breath stop in his throat. Her hair was still ruffled from where he had raked his hands through it, and her lips still blushed from where he had tugged on them with his teeth. There was also a faint flush of her cheeks, either from their previous activities or from running through the River House searching for him and his brother.

Something electric and charged ran the entire length of his body at the sight of her - not arousal, something deeper. And by the way her glowing eyes drank him in, he knew she felt it too. Azriel stepped aside and let her pass into the office and walk up to Rhysand’s desk. As he followed her, something bitter twisted in his gut - whatever was blooming between himself and the gardener was a thing to celebrate. Such love, light and warmth in his life which had thus far consisted of cold loneliness was a joyous and wonderful thing. And yet he was made to feel ashamed of his happiness, by his brother. His own damn brother.

“What’s going on?” Elain spoke in her traditionally soft voice, but even Rhys must’ve picked up and the unwavering steel that seeped from her tone, so similar to Nesta’s pitch. 

“Nothing, Elain. Just a dispute between myself and Azriel. It’s nothing you need concern yourself with,” Rhysand’s easy smile warmed through his cheeks and Azriel was sure he was going to punch him before the night was out.  

“Don’t lie to me Rhysand, it’s not a good look for a High Lord,” Elain spoke smoothly, folding her arms over her chest as Azriel had done moments ago. Rhys’ expression only flickered in response. “Now, what’s going on?” Elain asked again.

“Well,” Rhysand began, “Me and Azriel have been discussing you actually, you see, your bond with Lucien is unfortunately paramount to a lot of peace and unity between our court and others.” Rhysand looked blankly at Evie as he spoke, completely dethatched from the emotional anger he’d unleashed on Azriel moments ago.

“Is this about me breaking the bond?” Elain said, her voice smooth like honey, healing the sparking energy in the room as Azriel and Rhysand had geared up for a fight. Something about the question twisted Azriel’s guts. It was her terminology; it was all wrong. There was no such thing as breaking a bond, one could reject it and render the attachment limp and lifeless, but breaking a bond was only achieved in death, and even then some believe the bond to continue in the next life. It was just a reminder that Elain knew nothing about this world, Lucien had placed the acceptance or rejection of the bond in her hands, but she did not even know what either option would truly entail. Her education, it was another thing they’d all failed her on.

“If you wish to reject your bond with Lucien I, nor anyone in this court, will prevent you from doing so,” Rhysand said smoothly, “However, given the current political climate, I must say it would be best to leave this till after the war.” Elain did not look away as she thought.

“I don’t want the bond,”

“That’s perfectly okay-”

“No,” Elain interrupted, “I don’t want the bond at all. I don’t want to have to accept or reject anything - I just don’t want it...you....you don’t know what it’s like, to be pulled apart limb by limb, and be remade against your will, to find yourself destroyed and then re-crafted by something as unapologetic as the Cauldron itself. I was violated to the most extravagant degree and when I finally came around, when I finally managed to find something recognisable in myself, months after that night, I came around to find that I had been reduced to some ancient claim a stranger possessed over me. You are all kind, and you all mean well, but I know you all see myself as his.

“It was on the worst night of my life, the night when I had been pulled apart till I was only vessels and blood, he called me his. He is not a bad person I can see that,” her voice wobbled slightly then, “He is kind and witty, he’s working harder than any of you for the forgiveness of my sister. He doesn’t deserve…” She choked up slightly, but cleared her throat to cover it up, “He’s not bad…but this bond is terrible, it’s worst then terrible, it’s suffocating. And when I think of that bond, tied around my ribs like some kind of violating shackle, I just think of how it felt to suffocate on black water...that’s what this bond means to me, it’s a violation on top of a violation. So, to hear that to you, this bond gives you a political advantage, that you get a gain out of it and that you wish me to continue living in torment I...

“I wish I could be sorry about feeling this way, but I don’t. I have stayed quiet, and I have played the role you needed me to play. I keep out of your way; I busy myself with the gardens and dinner and I do everything I can to not bare my teeth every time he visits. But I...” Her wide, damp eyes turned to look at Azriel, “I have found something living in the never ending grave of my life. After I found myself again, all those months after the Cauldron, it felt as though it was only then I emerged from the black water. After I found...” She trailed off, stilling holding Azriel’s eye, “...I was not just out the black water, but back on the ground.” 

A small silence settled over the room as Azriel and Elain found themselves quickly lost in one another again, Rhys was merely glancing between the two, his mind whirring as he tried to click together the puzzle in front of him.

“I tried Rhys…I really did,” Azriel finally whispered into the heavy silence, still not looking away from his beloved. “I’ve done everything short of chaining myself in the dungeons to stay away, but I can’t.” It wasn’t until the words had left Azriel’s mouth that he realised his error. And it wasn’t until Elain’s brows furrowed and her eyes moved to Rhysand, that he felt his heart drop.

“What?” Elain whispered. One of the thousand questions she no doubt harvested. Azriel couldn’t look away from her, couldn’t meet his brothers eye. He had this awful feeling now twisting his guts, the feeling that everything was about to come crashing down.

“I ordered Azriel to stay away from you,” Rhys said evenly. Always the honest man.

“I...what?” Elain spluttered softly, her eyes narrowing on Rhysand. “What?”

“He called me away on solstice night when I was about to kiss you, that’s why I stopped.” That’s why I called it a mistake. Elain’s eyes burned even brighter and Azriel wondered if he should’ve held his tongue. If he should’ve just waited to have this conversation tomorrow where whatever ancient power that was stirring in Elain had calmed down. Now Elain’s glowing eyes seemed to fill the room with golden light, even the black night shrouding Rhysand’s figure ebbed back and inch.

“What?” Elain’s voice rung out, the magic in the room quickly turning volatile.

“I am sorry Elain; I didn’t mean to meddle with your private affairs, but with Lucien under the same roof it would’ve been too risky for those in the house. He could’ve invoked something called a ‘blood duel’.” Of course, Elain didn’t know that, of course none of her friends or family had taken the time to explain that to her. 

“You…you sanctimonious dick,” Elain spat. Had it been any other day, Azriel would’ve had to fight an astonished grin at hearing the words on her lips, but not tonight, not when everything was turning so morbid in front of his eyes.

“I’m sorry Elain, I truly am. But I’m not just your brother-in-law but your High Lord and I cannot risk my entire court for the mild infatuation of a-”

“Don’t speak to her like that,” The words were writhing in venom as Azriel spat them out. He would go down with her. 

“No, Azriel, you don’t speak to me like that,” And with that Rhys’ last straw was gone. In an instant his power was billowing into the room in clouds of black smoke. Rhys acting in such a way in front of Elain, who was already vulnerable, her dress already ruffled and her eyes wide in alarm, made Azriel furious.

“I am your high lord, Azriel, and I gave you a direct command and you have disobeyed me-” Without thinking Azriel’s own icy power rose to the surface, his siphons lighting on fire at the surge. If Elain was frightened by their display of bottomless power she did not show it, perhaps as her own fire was still burning vividly behind her eyes, perhaps since she knew she had more power than them both.

“Have you ever thought perhaps you stepped out of line by asking such a thing of me?” Azriel had never heard his voice so loud and angry before. He didn’t do this. His arguments were stoic and brutal, but mostly silent. He never fought politics - he carved into people who were in chains, and when there was an argument he stayed in the shadows and listened.

“You are my spymaster-”

“I am your brother!” Azriel’s choked sob echoed into the room. “Do I not deserve to be happy?” Rhysand at least had the decency to flinch, to reel back and allow his jaw to slacken in shock.

“Of course, you deserve to be happy brother,” Rhysand’s voice was low and strangled, “But this isn’t just romance – it’s never just romance – this will be a battle-”

“And I’m willing to fight!” Azriel roared, his hands slamming into Rhysand’s desk, his power causing the entire house to shudder, right down to the foundations.

“Azriel,” Rhys’ voice was deathly quiet, “I need you to calm down.” For a moment Azriel didn’t understand, his mind was so focused on Elain, on his own shuddering heart and writhing powers that he simply could not comprehend the words that came out his brothers mouth. Finally, the message registered in his mind and he became aware of his shadows, flourishing and filling the entire room, crawling over the windows and blocking out all the light. The only way he was seeing Rhysand was via the golden glow that came from Elain’s eyes. Disgust racked through his body at the sight of the manifestation of his swirling pain, but before he could do anything, the leash on his powers snapped.

“Azriel-” The next series of events was a blur. Power billowed into the room in a quick explosion, God knows whose it was. Perhaps it was initially Azriel who had finally lost control on that leash on his Illyrian gifts, perhaps Rhysand moved to repress Azriel’s powers with his own, premature or not. Maybe the quiet Elain had had enough of the noise. In an instant, a cocktail of three brands of magic billowed towards each other before exploding outwards, sending a wave of pure, unhinged chaos through the room, the house, and the whole of Velaris.

They all were thrown back from each other, Rhys flying up and landing on his feet, bracing himself against the ornamental globe as his wings appeared and flared. But even he, the most powerful High Lord in history had his knees bent and his arms raised as he braced himself against the fizzling aftershock of the ancient power that tore through the air. Azriel’s centuries of training kicked in as he was catapulted the length of the room, his own wings flared to slow his flight before he caught himself on the doorframe, the weighty wooden doors having flung open, it took an immense amount of physical upper body strength to keep himself upright as the wave of power subsided, his teeth grinding together as his muscles screamed.

But he wasn’t aware of the pain of his screaming muscles, wasn’t thinking about how his wings were in danger of being shredded by the power that ripped through the room. There was only one person, that his entire being seemed to lurch for as his mind screamed her name over and over. Elain.

Elain.

Elain.

He had seen as her pale form was flung away from him towards the cabinets, had heard the shattering of glass over the howling in his ears. Of course, he and Rhysand were okay, they had centuries of power and training under their belts but Elain…Elain didn’t have training, and she had flown through the air the fastest, taking the brunt of the powers rebound, her small form crashing into the case of Rhysand’s prized artefacts.

The minute Azriel had control of his own body and wasn’t being thrust back into the hallway, he winnowed to her, stepped into the shadows with a haste and urgency he’d never felt before. Wrong. He’d felt this fear before, he recognised it’s taste from the poisonous memories of that night Elain had been ripped away from them, leaving behind nothing but a vacant cot and warm sheets. Memories of that night often haunted his dreams; how ridiculously lucky they had gotten that they had reached Elain minutes before the King of Hybern got his hands on her. In his dreams he was too late. In his nightmares he fails her, and by the time he and Feyre find the tent she’s already gone. Sometimes there’s a body, and sometimes his unconscious mind is kind enough to just leave behind her lingering scent. That night he learned what it was like to truly fear, to have the blood leave your body, to feel the world still.

And that’s what the world did as he stepped onto the other side of the shadows. Elain was crumpled on the floor underneath the large bay windows, moonlight streaming into the mutilated room and illuminating her still form. It was as though the starlight was searching for her, reaching out to her with hands made of silver shadows.

Glass crunched under Azriel’s boots as he took a step forward, and another, and another. Because he could scent it before he saw it – the blood. The sour metallic taste that clogged up the air, interwoven with her own delicate scent. Wrong, it was so wrong, to have Elain’s scent fused with that of blood. She was facing away from him, crumpled on her side in a foetal position, and he could see her arms, her beautiful nimble arms so like the legs of a doe, limp on the floor and marred with what seemed to be a thousand cuts.

Her blood was black in the moonlight, and was colouring her beautiful, beautiful night dress. The roaring in Azriel’s ears was nothing short of explosive. And before him he saw a black wave, taller than the Ramiel, heading straight for him. One that was made of self-loathing, anger, frustration and agony, and as he dropped to his knees in front of Elain he felt it wash over him, burying him deeper in himself than he’d ever been before, and he knew he would not resurface.

Slowly, as not to hurt her further, Azriel rolled Elain over onto her back and into his lap. With shaky fingers he pushed back her hair, just as he had done less than an hour earlier. Her eyes were shut again, but this time he didn’t look at her face for beauty, but for a sign of life.

“Elain…” He whispered; his voice was softer than petals. She did not stir.

“Elain…” He murmured again as he bowed his head and pressed it against her chest, sticky blood rubbing against his cheek as he did so. For a moment it was all silent, and Azriel felt the world drop away, felt himself falling through bottomless black water only to never resurface.

And then there it was. The familiar ‘thu-thump’ beating slow and steady in her chest, the sweetest melody Azriel had ever heard. But before he could revel in the relief of Elain being alive, movement at the side of his eye made him snap his head, turn up his top lip and let loose a nothing but feral growl. It was his brother, and a small wave of shame rolled through him at having behaved in such a way to someone whom he owed so much.

“Azriel…” Rhysand’s voice was soothing, calm, “She’s having a vision…look, Azriel look. She’s okay, she’s just having a vision.”

And so, he looked again and yes, she was having a vision. Behind her eyelids Azriel could see her pupils flurrying side to side as though she were engaged in some riveting dream.

She’s having a vision; she’s having a vision. His shadows chanted to him, running up his back and whispering in his ear. It didn’t soothe him, but rather caused the cloud of anger around him to disappear, so that he was numb again. Some movement deep in the house pulled at his attention, but it was like a ribbon trying to move an ocean, there was nothing for it to hold onto.

And soon both men were turning to the worst thing of all: Feyre and Nesta, standing at the doorway looking at their sister unresponsive in a pool of blood, both primed and ready to kill. 

“Get away from her.” Nesta’s voice clanged through the room like steel as she strode forward, seeming to fill the broken room with her strength alone. As she moved she revealed a slightly dazed Cassian behind her, still dressed in his night clothes and yet armed to the teeth, clearly having been awoken in a haste. Rhys took a step back, there was too much power, too much energy, in the room already, provoking Nesta would surely lead them all to their sudden deaths.

Then there was Feyre, walking into the room behind her sister, quiet but observant, the perfect High Lady. She seemed to assess everything around her. The tautness of her husband’s stature, the silent flood of emotions that seemed to be rippling from her spymaster, Elain’s shallow breaths and bloodied night gown. After a moment of quiet assessment, she moved forth to the stoic and emotionless figure of her shadowsinger.

“Azriel,” Rhys recognised Feyre’s tone as she approached his brother, it was the tone she used with Nyx, motherly and soft. Azriel pulled his eyes from Elain to look at Feyre vacantly. “It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay…but I need you to let me take her.” Azriel’s mouth contorted in pain as he pulled Elain slighter closer to his chest.

“I know,” Feyre whispered, dropping to her knees next to him, not caring that her own silken nightgown was turning splotchy and red. “I know it’s hard but everything’s going to be okay. She’s my sister, and I as your High Lady will not let anything harm her.” There’s no need, Azriel thought bitterly as he looked down at Elain’s deathly pale skin, her abuser is here, right in front of you. The only harm you need protect her from, is me.

But he didn’t say any of that out loud, he wasn’t even sure his voice would work for him in that moment. Azriel didn’t quite hand Elain over to Feyre, rather he just let his arms go limp around her, and Feyre was able to scoop her sister out of his arms as though they were passing Nyx from one another. Every instinct Azriel had was screaming at him to take Elain back, to at least look at her unconscious form in Feyre’s arms as they moved away from him, but he kept his eyes on the floor, now kneeling to only the pools of Elain’s blood.

Voices began to erupt around him in hushes whispers, he could distantly hear Rhysand guiding his subjects through the plan, explaining to them what had happened whilst withholding the reason why. It was all numb to him as he continued to float under that black wave, sinking deeper and deeper, their voices were above the surface and so they just sounded warbled and strange.

But one movement did catch Azriel’s eye. It cut through the room’s silent chaos like a knife, a figure appearing at the ruined doorway that caught Azriel’s attention the same way an earthquake would. It was him.

Lucien.

“What happened?” Lucien growled out and something roared in Azriel. He knew that tone of voice, could smell the mate-tarnished anger that was rolling out of him. That animalistic claim on the woman Azriel had nearly lost himself in only moments ago. That’s why he was here, because he would’ve felt the energy down the bond, because even though he was at the other end of Prythian with his own family, he had that claim. 

“She’s okay,” Feyre breathed softly as she lifted her sister up into her arms, “Her cuts are already healing, it looks worse than it is. She’s just had a vision so it might take a while for her to come around.” Feyre’s voice was so like her husband’s, even and balanced, reassuring everyone in the room that everything was okay, even if that were not necessarily true.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Azriel didn’t want to hate Lucien, even now he could see that the Autumn son was grappling with the bond that was no doubt screaming at him to rip his mate from Feyre’s arms and winnow them both to the other side of the continent. Azriel knew, because he felt it too. Like Elain he didn’t really hate Lucien, he hated the bond, hated what it told him about himself, clear as day, that he wasn’t worthy of Elain. And though some part of him already assumed just as much, no one was so self-deprecating to not at least hold of a sliver of hope in the face of such agony.

“She’s fine,” Nesta snarled at Lucien, one hand on Feyre’s shoulder, the other on Elain’s pale and bloodied forehead as she guided her sisters towards to mutilated door frame. They were right to take their sister away from the scene, God knew that no one there could help Elain now.

And so Elain disappeared around the corner, and Azriel slowly brought himself off the floor, trying to ignore the sight of his marred hands, covered in her blood.

What...even...Cassian’s voice swam into Rhys mind, dripping in confusion and concern. Did you and Az have a fight?

Rhys put off audibly groaning. Whenever he and Az fought it was normally not difficult to keep Cassian oblivious, he didn’t always pick up and stuff like that and sometimes it was just easier to deal with debates behind closed doors. Not to treat Cassian as his and Az’s overgrown child, it was just that Cassian was never meant to be a mediator.

It’s complicated, Rhys reported back keeping his voice level and calm - his High Lord voice.

I’ll let you off for tonight but, Rhys, you have to let me help you. Especially when it comes to Az. He was right of course, just like Azriel had been.

Deal, Rhys shot back, for tonight I need eyes on Az, I don’t care if he pushes you away I need someone with him at all times, at least until Elain comes around. We’ll re-group then. Cassian didn’t respond besides the smallest of nods. He stayed where he was, more awake now with his eyes trained on their other brother, and Rhys knew Cassian wouldn’t take his eyes off him for the foreseeable future.

Rhysand couldn’t help but sigh, it’s not as though Azriel or Lucien were aware of him to notice. This was a mess. Worse than a mess, it was a catastrophe. Everything Azriel had said was right but, he had broken his order, he had defied rank in a way he’d never done before and that squeezed something deep in Rhysand’s gut. Above all he needed to be able to trust his friends, so that when push came to shove he’d be able to make the tough decisions and his friends would let him go into the belly of the beast. But tonight, that had changed. Everything had changed.

And Elain, Elain who he had nearly called by his sisters name, she’d stood up for herself tonight. And then there was the situation of her powers, savage and rippling out of her like a beast. He had tasted those powers when they’d tore out of her, and they were ancient. The same power that was interwoven in the very fields of the earth, concentrated in the form of the sweetest girl of all. Rhys knew at least a thousand fae who would pay a hefty price to possess Elain, a hundred who might be willing to go to war - and then there were the Fae who would claw for her hand, the noblemen who would see her for her potential offspring. Rhysand physically shuddered as he sent his wings away.

Yes, tonight had been a catastrophe all right.

Rhysand looked away from Cassian’s half-hidden grimace and turned to the two males standing off, the blood of the woman they were unspokenly fighting over still pooling across the hardwood floors. Lucien glaring with restrained anger at Azriel, his masculine mating bond clogging up the air, whilst Azriel wore an impenetrable mask, hiding the bottomless torment and agony that was no doubt running rife in the shadowsinger, as he stared at the weeping puddle of Elain’s blood.