#seer and shadowsinger

[lunaduskxo]

You guys remember when Madja said, “If anyone can sense of anything is amiss, it’s a mate.”

It was Azriel who discovered what was amiss, correct?

I saw an old anti post and it said the reason Elain was having a hard time was because of the pain of losing her fiancé.

Again, did we not read the same book? As soon as Azriel figured out she was a seer. She came out of the cloudy realm she was in. She was able to make sense of what she was. Feyre also pointed out how Azriel had been the one spending time with her and LISTENING to her. From that, Elain was able to puzzle everything together and we found out about Vassa.

It was Azriel and only Azriel.

[cassianfanclub]

“This time, you sent the trembling fawn to find me. I did not expect to see those doe-eyes peering at me from across the world.”

Happy Elain Archeron Week Day 6: Fanged Beast

One of my absolute favorite theories in this fandom is that Elain will be able to traverse the murky realm, like the Mystics in HOSAB. @wingedblooms incredible mind connects details in a way most only dream of and has helped to further my excitement for Elain’s book and journey. You can find the two main theories that inspired this piece here and here.

The first time we see Elain peer across the world, she is doing so as a trembling fawn, but my hope is that, she will peer across worlds on her way to becoming a fanged beast and embrace that side of her in her own book.

In this piece, Elain has left behind Az and Bryce in Velaris, and stepped into the murky realm, only to be greeted by a waiting Apollion, mirroring Az. Apollion’s black eyes, deep and dark as the Pit in which he dwells- a telltale sign that his relaxed posture is nothing more than a trick to give a false sense of calm. But I have confidence Elain’s fangs and claws will get her back home.

A massive thank you to @luxury_banshee on IG for creating this piece for me💕

You can find this art on IG here

Please do not repost

@elainarcheronweek

[duskcowboy]

the Seer and the Spymaster

“𝑰𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆, 𝑰 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒅, 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑨𝒛𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒍 𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒓. 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒕…𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒔 𝒉𝒆, 𝒕𝒐𝒐, 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒔𝒖𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒔 𝑬𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅.”

♡ 🎨 by @/chicca_art on insta ♡

♡ commissioned by me ♡

One of my favorite theories is that Azriel and Elain share a different sort of bond, whether that is as true mates or a carranam bond 🖤 the way that it was Azriel who figured out she was a Seer—the only one who truly listened to her and freed her from the murky realm she was in—makes me confident they share something very special, whatever that may end up being!

[azrielzelain]

I don't remember where I read it, probably on tiktok but someone said,

the stark contrast of emotions between:

"I'm getting her back."

and

"we trained them well, Cassian. Trust in that. It's all we can do."

Is more than enough proof that gwyn is not Azriel's mate.

And I agree 100%. No. further. proof. required.

The way Az was being snarky about how restless Cassian was the whole time, saying, "I have no interest in explaining to Rhys and Feyre why you died on my watch." Like... my guy is chill. No worries in the world.

But when it's Elain who's in danger:

“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, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

Again, no further proof required.

[wingedblooms]

The dreams that are answered

When they were children, the Illyrian brothers dreamt of wielding the legendary sword, Gwydion, to slay wyrms and rescue damsels.

And the stars who listened answered those dreams. Feyre slew a wyrm and rescued Rhysand. Nesta rescued Cassian in their book and now, with the release of hofas, has slain a wyrm. These patterns tend to come in threes in Sarah’s writing, like a Welsh triad, so it wouldn’t be surprising if Elain defeated her own wyrm (or better yet, if it yielded to her, like the scaled creatures yielded to Bryce) and she rescued Azriel in their story.

The Starborn blades have been returned to the Night Court for a reason. Nesta has her own trove of blades, and Azriel clearly cannot carry them by himself…

He hasn’t even unlocked the full potential of Truth-Teller’s blade after possessing it for years.

Vesperus, the Asteri in the Prison, makes an interesting comment here that reminds me of the Illyrian brothers’ childhood games. She accuses the Fae of playing with weapons they don’t fully understand. Their minds couldn’t hold all the possibilities at once. But we do know someone whose mind might be able to hold multiple, if not all, possibilities at once: Elain, the seer.

It was Elain who appeared out of nowhere, out of shadow, with Truth-Teller:

She may have opened a portal into nowhere, the void, with her power (which, like the Harp, might influence time and space) while linked to Truth-Teller, allowing her to appear exactly where she was needed, when she was needed to protect her loves ones.

Our damsel made her moment with a legendary weapon count. And it wouldn’t surprise me if we learn that—with her heightened, Cauldron-blessed senses—she can hear the blades singing to each other, tugging at her hidden powers.

And perhaps, when they explore the powers of those legendary blades together, Elain and Azriel will open a portal and travel the space between to places she’s only seen in her dreams.

Because the stars do listen—and dreams are answered.

Special thanks to @willowmeres, @offtorivendell, and @psychologynerd for their inspiring reactions to and thoughts about these connections.

[a-court-of-lust-and-stardust]

Is it just me or has there been an increase in Elriel accounts recently??? I love it.

[tswaney17]

Azriel’s Fantasy

“𝗪𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴—𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝗼 𝘄𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴.

𝗛𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻’𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲.

𝗛𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗻𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲. 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗽𝘀 𝘁𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲. 𝗛𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘁𝘀. 𝗛𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝘅. 𝗛𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗲.”

-𝗔𝘇𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗹’𝘀 𝗣𝗢𝗩 (𝗔𝗖𝗢𝗦𝗙)

I wanted to start off the Solstice season on a sexy note. 😏 When rereading Azriel’s bonus, it’s clear that he has deep feelings for Elain. Much like many of SJM’s other prominent couples, he wants to get on his knees for the woman he loves. To touch and taste her. And while I hate that Rhys stopped them from kissing, he has set up the perfect plot for a forbidden romance🌸 and I cannot wait to see it play out in the pages of Elriel’s book. 🛐

I’m so happy to have commissioned Azriel’s Fantasy from the incredible @/arielfriass. He took my idea and produced such a beautiful, intimate piece that I couldn’t have pictured better. Ariel, you were an absolute pleasure to work with. Thank you for bringing this piece to life. 💙

Do not repost.

[unyieldingwings]

THINK ABOUT THIS.

ELAIN LIKES GARDENING. LIKES GETTING HER HANDS DIRTY. LIKES THE FEELING OF GETTING PRICKED BY THE PLANTS AND ALL AND SHE DOESN’T MIND IF SHE GETS SCARS.

BUT ALSO THINK ABOUT HOW SHE DOESN’T MIND HAVING SCARS SO SHE CAN MATCH AZRIEL AND REMIND HIM THAT THERE IS BEAUTY IN HIS SCARS. THAT HE IS A BEAUTIFUL PERSON?

[kopfkino-o]

The Seer’s Stone - Chapter One

Summary: Elain Archeron is tired of being the “lovely, sweet gardener” everyone wants her to be. After losing her beloved, her humanity, her life, she’s ready to claim her own path forward with the help of her friends, Nuala and Cerridwen, as she searches far and wide for the mysterious Seer’s Stone: an ancient artifact of old rumored to once belong to an ancient Seer Queen. But will fate itself step in to stop her? Or will Elain defy the strings of destiny that bind her and forge her own path forward, choosing her own fate, friendships, future, and love, along the way.

Pairing: Elain x Azriel 

Timeline: Post-ACOSF

Word Count: 2680

Author’s Note: I am so excited to begin sharing this fic out with the world! I know I said I’d share this at the start of Elriel month, buttttt I have absolutely no self control lol. This is planned out to be a long-form fanficiton inspired by what I think would be cool to see for Elain’s journey. We’ll also get a lot of Azriel, Vassa, and Lucien in this story, along with appearances from a few other characters. Additionally, this is my first ever published fanfic and, as an aspiring author, I always want to encourage constructive feedback on anything I publish. Critiques? Send them my way! Writing advice? Hit me with it! Thanks for taking the time to read - Court <3 

Catch Me Over on AO3 at Courtwritesalot. 

Elain Archeron slipped down the back alleys and side streets of Velaris on silent feet, the pale sliver of the moon the only witness to her midnight movements, the low hum of summer insects her only companions. She stuck to the shadows, swift and silent as she followed the natural flow of the Sidra north through the city, the scrying stones in her pocket rattling softly with each step. 

It wasn't lost on her that traveling along the Street of Silk up to the Old Square would have been a faster, more direct route, but Elain wasn't willing to risk it. Not tonight, not when Rita's was tucked amongst the other game halls and pleasure houses that occupied the narrow street. The last thing she needed was running into the likes of the Morrigan. 

Or even worse, Amren. 

As far as anyone knew, she was still tucked safely in her bed back at the Riverhouse fighting off another headache. Being caught anywhere else, especially at this hour, especially in this part of the city, would be damning. 

Lying to her sisters and brothers-in-law earlier that evening hadn't been easy, as it so rarely was, but she excused the white lie as yet another necessary evil. She needed to get out from underneath their watchful eyes and there were only so many times she could blame a late-night departure into the city on a gardening emergency or a cooking class with the twins. So Elain blamed her early departure from family dinner on her head and retired to her bedroom where she waited in practiced silence for their conversations to grow more political, more focused, before winnowing out into the manor gardens. 

She would have winnowed to her destination if the magic allowed it, but the gift of moving effortlessly through the world was still a foreign thing she didn't fully understand. She'd improved, yes, but still could only move short distances, even despite her weeks of training with the twins. 

Soon, she promised herself, I will master it soon.

Elain was breathless by the time she reached the small, boarded-up antiquities store tucked away in one of Velaris's older neighborhoods. The Crone's Trade, the faded sign hanging above the front door read. She gathered the skirts of her traveling dress and darted up the cracked stone steps to the darkened storefront. A small "closed" sign hung on the door, but she knocked anyways, her knuckles beating out the secret code the old shopkeep taught her weeks ago. 

A long silence punctuated only by the distant murmuring of the Sidra winding her way through the city settled all around her. Elain shifted anxiously on her feet. She wanted to get off the streets, wanted to get the scrying stones out of her pocket, but more than anything, she wanted a glass of firewine the twins loved so much, if only to steel her nerves.

There was so much depending on tonight, weeks of dedicated research and lying to her sisters, weeks of stretching herself thin in a desperate attempt to find answers. And tonight was the culmination, the final piece she needed to fall into place. It had to be perfect, she had to be—

The shop's ancient lock gave a metallic groan and the door cracked open.

Nuala's beautiful face appeared in the crack in the doorway, the wraith's dark eyes sweeping the street behind Elain before she straightened and greeted her with a lovely, full-lipped smile. She was dressed immaculately as always, draped all in smoke and sage that complemented her dark complexion. Silver charms accented her long fall of braids tonight, the little accessories shining like quicksilver beneath the moonlight. 

"About time," Nuala said, voice rich and lovely. "We thought you changed your mind." 

Elain offered a sheepish smile. 

"I'm sorry I'm late, I got away as soon as I could. Nesta and Cassian were over for dinner tonight," she said. "You know how Feyre can be when it comes to family dinners. Especially now that the babe is here." 

"No need for apologies, Lainey. You're here now, that's what matters." 

Elain nodded. Right, no need for apologies when they weren't warranted. It was something she was trying to change, a habit she was trying to break, but old habits die hard and some days life at the Riverhouse made her feel as if her progress was... regressing. 

A pang of guilt bloomed within her.

"Did anyone see you leave?" Nuala asked. 

She shook her head. "I winnowed out, just like we planned." 

"Good." 

Her friend opened the door fully then and hurried Elain into the darkness beyond. 

The inside of the Crone's Trade was warm, the air rich with the familiar scent of old books and aging leather and the faint, citrusy smell of spiced tea. Murky darkness shrouded the entirety of the shop floor, the few dying candles still burning in their sconces casting strange shadows along the many bookshelves and display cases that occupied the tight space.

Elain pushed back the hood of her cloak and smoothed the loose pieces of hair torn free from her long braid, readying herself. She was just about to ask Nuala where the others were when the soft murmur of feminine voices floated up to them through the gloom. 

"The Sparrow?" She asked Nuala.

"Downstairs with Cerridwen, arguing about only gods know what. The two of them together are certainly something.”

Elain's heart all but stopped at the words. "I can't believe they're finally here." 

"Come, she's eager to meet you."

"She?" 

Nuala merely smiled and hooked an arm through hers.

The half-wraith steered them both through the dark labyrinth with graceful ease, her eyes able to see even in the depth of the Void itself, and together they rounded the front counter, passing beneath heavy velvet curtains into the slim stairwell that lay beyond. Elain could hear the voices more clearly there, not enough to make out their words but enough to discern between Cerridwen's voice and a high, accented voice she did not know. 

The Sparrow. 

 Each step down to the private chambers on the floor below reverberated through Elain's chest, a booming tempo that matched her own hammering heart. She wasn't sure what information the treasure hunter discovered that warranted a trip all the way from the Continent, let alone what the woman looked like, nor her real name, but something in her bones told Elain it was important, something she could work with. Finally.

Nuala pushed open the cracked door and waved Elain in with a dramatic flourish. 

She slid past her friend and stepped into the cozy space, her eyes watering at the bright light of the roaring hearthfire that gilded the room and the two women sitting within it.

Both fell silent when they noticed her.

Elain's eyes first fell on Cerridwen. The older of the two half-wraith twins was dressed in her usual leathers, her shoulder-length coils pushed back from her pretty face with an amethyst headband and her eyes lined with her signature sharp wing. A wicked, waved dagger was sheathed down her thigh and the ornate pommel of Cerridwen's sword peaked over her shoulders. A warrior ready for battle.

Then her gaze shifted to the young woman seated to the left of her friend.

Pretty, in an almost haunting way. Her hair was pale-blonde, her skin fair, and her heart-shaped face dusted with the faintest smattering of freckles. Even her clothes were pale, all shades of white and smoke and silver. 

A silver Sparrow. Elain understood the codename now.

Their gaze met and the artificer cocked her head.

"The Fawn, I take it," She said, her voice high and lilting.

Elain inclined her head. "A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Sparrow." 

"And you, yours." A ghost of a smile. "Elain Kingslayer." 

The moniker fell on her shoulders like a stone. No one had ever called her that, least of all a stranger. Elain's guts twisted at the implication of the title, at the weight of what it meant. Murderer, life-taker, blood still drying on her hands. She shoved the memory back behind its iron gate before it had the chance to rise up and seize her. 

Not now, not tonight. 

Elain lifted her chin, channeling Nesta's iron-hard venom and Feyre's cunning wit. 

"You feel free to name me Kingslayer, but not enough to share your true name with us," she said, "One might think we'd be entitled to such information after six months of exchanging letters." 

The Sparrow laughed, the sound silvery and lovely, then rose from her seat and crossed the room on long, graceful legs. Nuala and Cerridwen watched the woman like a hawk, the former stepping closer toward Elain while the latter inched her fingers toward her knife. Whether the pale-haired artificer didn't notice, or simply didn't care, Elain wasn't sure, but the woman extended a hand either way and offered her a charming smile.

"Kalla," She said. "Kalla Valenholt." 

The use of a family name snagged Elain's attention. A rare occasion, especially for the Fae. She tucked away the kernel of knowledge and accepted Kalla's offered hand, giving it a firm shake. 

"Elain Archeron." 

"She who bewitched the Cauldron and brought the King of Hybern to his knees," Kalla whistled, genuine admiration shining in her bright green eyes. "It is quite the honor, I must say. You're rather famous where I'm from." 

It was no honor, but Elain wasn't going to tell a total stranger that. So instead, she asked, "And how is it you've come to know the nature of my true identity? We took great care to keep it a secret." 

"Knowing is the nature of my work," Kalla replied, her tone casual, but those strange eyes must have caught the spark of self-doubt Elain could feel blooming within herself because the artificer added, "Seers are very rare things, both here in Prythian and back home on the Continent. I suspected who you might be when you first contacted me about your search for the Seer's Stone, but when you sent word telling me I could find you here in Velaris...well, I was able to put two and two together easily enough." 

Elain wasn't sure what unnerved her more, the fact people actively knew, and spoke, of her on the Continent or the ease with which her identity had been uncovered. She would have to be more careful moving forward.

Kalla cocked her head and gestured to the empty seats before the hearth. "Shall we?" 

"Let's," Elain replied with a smile.

Elain took up the seat Cerridwen had abandoned in favor of watching from the nearest pocket of shadow, ever the loyal sentry. Kalla reclaimed her seat before the hearth while Nuala poured them all a cup of spiced tea before draping herself over a nearby chaise.

Then they began.

Kalla first withdrew a thick packet of research notes from her pack that the women all passed around between them after thumbing through them quickly. Then the artificer withdrew a single tome from her bag and set the book gently, almost reverently, down on her lap. Relics and Lost Items of the Hero's Age, the title read. Elain glanced wearily toward her friends, but both twins were studying the book as if it were their next target.

Then Kalla blew out a long breath and started on her story.

"I went almost immediately to the Fae Archives after you first made contact with me to scour the collection for any mention of a milky gray stone imbued with the power of divination. Weeks of searching and I only came across a few leads, some more promising than others, but none with descriptions that matched what you described from your vision. At least, not until I came across this." Kalla tucked a strand of hair behind an arched ear and opened her book, flipping through the pages until she came across whatever it was she was looking for. Another loosed breath, another ghost of a smile. Then she lifted her eyes and met Elain's gaze. "I'm going to show you something and I want you to tell me if there's anything you recognize about these objects. Anything at all, a sliver of memory, a flash of another vision. Anything." 

Elain could only manage a weak nod. Her heart was in her throat, pounding so fiercely she was certain the other women could hear it hammering against her ribs. Then Kalla passed the book to her and that thundering heart skipped a beat.

She stared down at the detailed drawing of the long, wooden staff crowned with a milky white crystal as she felt time slow around her. Her skin prickled at the sight of it, so familiar, that stone. That staff. She reached out and traced her fingers along it, studying the make of the weapon, the ornate carvings etched into its dark shaft. It was decorated with ornate carvings of twinning vines and twisting whorls and strange, foreign markings that made her stomach twist, all of them flowing upwards to the crystal fixed at the tip.

A crystal she knew all too well.

Elain blinked and the world fell away.

A ring of fire burning beneath a black tower. A white flower blooming upon a field of ash, whispers of an old promise murmured along the breeze. Stone knights standing watch around an altar, rusted spears clenched tight in ancient hands, unseeing eyes weeping tears of black ichor.

A crystal blooming bright, calling, singing.

Desperate letters sent out on white wings. A great stag standing amongst a forest made of ash. A falling star, red and everlasting. She will come, she will open doors within the stone. Old hands, young hands, a maiden's hands scrubbing blood from a white dress. Find her, find me, find him.

The crystal singing, singing, singing—

Elain blinked again. 

Everyone was staring at her, still waiting for her to speak. Her cheeks heated at the realization and Elain turned her head to quickly wipe away the small trickle of blood leaking from her nose. Both the twins noted the movement anyways, too skilled in the art of observant not to, Culdron boil them.

Cerridwen casually peeled away from the wall to come and stand beside her while Nuala placed a gentle hand on Elain's knee.

"We don't have to continue if it's too much," Whispered the former. 

The latter nodded her head in agreement. "There's always tomorrow. We can always try again—" 

No.

She would not give up on this, she would not wait another day. She had been plagued by visions of this strange stone, that dark forest clearing and burning red star, for weeks now. They sang to her along the breeze, they called to her through the stones. They, whatever they were, were beckoning to her and, Cauldron spare her, Elain was determined to rise in answer. Determined to do something for herself, to prove she was capable of being strong, of being brave, of being more than just sweet, pretty little Elain.

So she slipped her hand into her pocket and collected the scrying stones still hidden there. She ignored the strange look the twins gave her and pushed up from her seat, moving to the coffee table where she dropped the stones one by one onto the worn surface, each falling with a soft plink. Then she fixed Kalla with a look even Nesta would have balked from. 

"Find me a map." 

[lunaduskxo]

ACOTAR series is following

3 sisters, 3 brothers and 3 mountains

NOT

2 sisters, 3 brothers, 1 priestess, 2 mountains and the library.

[slowpress]

A COURT OF SONGS AND SHADOWS

Series summary: The tangled threads of fate, or the deliberate work of another?

Azriel always knew to expect this levelling of the scales. He just hadn’t anticipated it happening so fast. His shadows remained his only companions curled in the crook of his neck.

Elain dreams of fangs, and rot, and twisting vines. Uncontrolled, the visions plague her day and night. Their true meaning veiled to her.

Eris see's only fallow fields and blooming bruises. A dangerous path carved in fire that could swallow him whole.

Canon compliant. Post-ACOSF, but pre-HOFAS.

Long fic 20+ chapters planned. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55079548

Chapter 001 - A Court of Falling Stars The lay of the land. Word count: 3,546 Warnings: Canon typical bigotry.

Notes: We're back baby! After spotting a major timeline issue in my previous fic I have been outlining and writing for the past few weeks. Hopefully you guys will all enjoy!

[duskcowboy]

Azriel and Elain 💛

🎨 by @/mftfernandez on insta

[silly--fangirl]

okay so the next acotar book is probably coming soon

so what do we think and prefer the book to be about?

[wingedblooms]

Elain is about to enter her earth goddess era, and Azriel—the wilder one—is desperate to worship at her altar.

[a-court-of-lust-and-stardust]

Popping on to say one thing and one thing only before logging off for a bit.

There is a reason, if not many reasons, that people who ship Elriel aren't panicking. Just sayin'.

[offtorivendell]

Azriel never actually agreed to comply with Rhys' orders to stay away from Elain

Elriel Month, Week 5: Anything Your Heart Desires

Just a friendly reminder that, while Azriel may have been knocked from his rage by Rhys threatening punishment and pulling rank during their talk on Solstice Night, he never actually agreed to stop pursuing Elain Archeron.

Have a look:

Rhys growled, "Allow me to make one thing very clear. You are to stay away from her."

"You can't order me to do that."

“Oh, I can, and I will. If Lucien finds out you're pursuing her, he has every right to defend their bond as he sees fit. Including invoking the Blood Duel.”

"That's an Autumn Court tradition." The battle to the death was so brutal that it was only enacted in rare cases. Despite being an outsider, Azriel had wanted to invoke it when he’d found Mor all those years ago. Had been ready to challenge both Beron and Eris to Blood Duels and kill them both. Only Mor’s right to claim their heads in vengeance had kept him from doing so.

“Lucien, as Beron's son, has the right to demand it of you."

"I'll defeat him with little effort." Pure arrogance laced every word, but it was true.

“I know." Rhys's eyes flickered. "And your doing so will rip apart any fragile peace and alliances we have, not only with the Autumn Court but also with the Spring Court and Jurian and Vassa." Rhys bared his teeth. "So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her."

Azriel snarled softly.

"Snarl all you want." Rhys leaned back in his chair. "But if I see you panting after her again, I'll make you regret it."

Rhys had rarely threatened punishment or pulled rank. It stunned Azriel enough that it knocked him from his rage.

Rhys jerked his chin toward the door. "Get out"

Azriel tucked in his wings and left without another word, stalking through the house and onto the front lawn to sit in the frigid starlight. To let the frost in his veins match the air around him.

Until he felt nothing. Was again nothing at all.

Let's disregard the fact that, assuming Rhys and Feyre's assumptions about Lucien's true paternity are accurate, it's questionable whether he would even have the right to invoke the Blood Duel against Azriel; if Helion ever acknowledges Lucien, does the Day Court still allow it? And would Rhys' lies about Lucien's right to challenge Azriel for Elain's love somehow invalidate a fundamental part of any hypothetical agreement that was made between himself and Az? I'm not sure whether the magic of bargain bonds - whatever it is - considers the spirit of the original agreement; at least, I wouldn't count on it, just in case. It's a big "if."

So, in a world where your word can be a magically enforced and bonded bargain - clever Spymaster.

@elriel-month