Fanart by mftfernandez on Instagram

Request: “(Y/N) is Rhys’ sister/Azriel’s mate and she barely survives the attack from Tamlin’s family and her wings have been taken from her and it’s just Azriel’s reaction to it and him helping her”

Tags:@milllionthingsihaventdone​@akingdomofswordsandstories​

Warnings: gore, death, reader getting her wings cut off and almost dying, swearing

Word Count: 3,000

A/N: Always a pleasure to write for Az. This one’s a bit darker, definitely labeled angst for a reason. Has a fluffy ending though! <3

It was the middle of the night when they attacked.

You and your mother had never been sound sleepers, and since it was just the two of you traveling on foot to meet your brother, you’d decided to continue walking into the night.

You reached the place you’d planned to meet at before him, but that wasn’t a surprise. Rhys was many things, but timely wasn’t typically one of them (unless your father was involved). So you’d set a fire and hunkered down to wait, knowing you could be there anywhere from half an hour to half a day.

You were humming softly, admiring the view of the river in the moonlight, the silvery mist rolling up onto the banks. It was beautiful, but almost ominous. 

You had heard a twig snap somewhere in the forest behind you. You should have been more alert.

It took them all of thirty seconds to have you beaten and tied up, backs pressed tightly against the bark of trees and rope pricking your skin. You weren’t weak, not by any means. Your father had insisted you had proper training, that you knew how to fight, but there were so many of them.

You recognized the High Lord of the Spring Court and his many sons. In fact, you knew them. You’d even found one or two of the younger fae attractive at different points of the last century, though all that was irrelevant now. The unsheathed weapons in their hands confirmed your deepest fears.

“Your son, he was supposed to be here?” the High Lord asked. Neither of you said anything. Your focus was entirely on the determined and almost amused looks on the faces of the Spring Court nobility, the sneer their father wore, and the slight shake of your mother’s hand holding yours.

“Will he be joining us soon?” he tried again. You shrugged, trying to seem less terrified than you were.

“He’s not a timely sort,” you said, as nonchalantly as possible. As if you weren’t bound to a tree in the middle of the woods. “It’s a possibility.”

The High Lord snickered. “That’s a real shame. We were hoping he’d be here to join in on the fun.”

“You’re sick,” your mother whispered, voice shaky. You gave your mother’s hand a squeeze.

“Where is Rhysand now?”

“Why would I tell you that?” she spat incredulously.

“Because,” he drawled, gazing lustfully at his knife, “perhaps I’ll spare your lives if you do.”

You gasped, your mother tensing up beside you.

“You know what will happen to you if you kill us,” she said menacingly. “What Rhys will do, what my mate will do.”

“Pity that I don’t care,” he grinned. You felt like you were going to throw up.

“Please,” you whispered, tears beginning to spill out of your eyes. “Please.”

You could’ve sworn you saw a look of pity flash over some of their faces, but the High Lord only laughed. “Seize them.”

What happened next was a blur - the ropes were slashed and you were grabbed by two of the sons, pulled away from each other to opposite ends of the grove. Forced to kneel and watch by the light of the fire as the High Lord carved your mother’s wings off her back, screaming and thrashing and pleading up until the moment he sliced her head off at the neck.

You watched her body loll over to the side, her head - still bearing the comforting look she’d tried to give you in her last moments - feet away on the ground, eyes dull, next to her wings. You collapsed against the son who’d been holding you back, fell to your knees on the ground defeated.

There was no use in fighting back, you realized, as the High Lord turned to face you. Your mother’s blood was painted over him. There was no way for you to escape.

Winnow.

Your eyes widened, your mother’s voice clear as day in your head.

Winnow away.

From your place on the ground you could see the High Lord’s boots coming closer. You began to panic - you’d never winnowed before. That was Rhys’s thing, and you’d never bothered the practice.

You felt a hand grab the back of your tunic and pull you up, dragging you across the clearing towards your mother’s decapitated corpse.

You felt your stomach churn as he threw you down in front of the same stump he’d just used as a chopping block. He placed his palm on your back and pushed you flush against it, easily overpowering you as you struggled against it.

“Please,” you gasped, begging him to stop, begging the Cauldron to give you the strength to winnow just this once. “Please, please.”

You squeezed your eyes shut furiously, picturing the camp down the river, the camp where Rhys probably was right now. And your father. And maybe Cassian and Azriel.

Your family. You just wanted to see your family.

And then there was pain. Searing pain, at that sensitive, delicate point where your wings sprouted from your back. You screamed. Your wings, the bastard was taking your wings.

A great weight fell off the side of you, and you tipped over, overwhelmed with the imbalance of just one wing and the feeling of blood spilling down your back. A second hand reached out to grab your shoulder and pull you back up. You gritted your teeth.

Winnow away, winnow away.

Pain again, and more screaming, and another great loss. You collapsed against the stump in front of you, and threw up. One of them laughed, but you were too light headed to tell which one of them it was.

They were talking. Your head spun, trying to make out what they were saying.

“Maybe we shouldn’t kill her.”

“We could ask for a ransom, she’s already too weak to try and escape.”

“She’s seen too much for that.”

Rhys, you thought. Rhys, my father, Cassian, Azriel. Azriel.

The picture of the camp in your mind was bright. Please, you begged wordlessly. Please, I need to go there.

And when the High Lord turned towards where you’d been to finish the job, you were gone.

— — —

When you woke up, it was morning. You could hear the birds before you even opened your eyes, recognized the soft songs they only sang before the rest of the world was awake.

The second thing you noticed was the dull throb of your back pressed completely against the mattress under you. No wings. Your stomach dropped.

Rhys and Azriel were sitting on crates next to your bed. Your eyes had been open for maybe five seconds before they were up, rushing to crouch next to you.

“(Y/n),” Rhys started, voice full of emotion. He grabbed your hand, and you could feel him shaking.

“Rhys,” you croaked, squeezing his hand. “I sound fucking awful.”

The two of them laughed, maybe the saddest laugh you’d ever heard, but a laugh nonetheless.

“Do…do you remember what happened?” Rhys asked, voice trailing off. You grimaced and nodded, the memories of your mother’s body and the High Lord’s sneer burning in your mind.

“I remember all of it.”

You watched Azriel’s face fall, watch the conflict in his eyes as he looked over you and finally rested his hand softly on top of your high, thumb rubbing small circles against the blanket. His shadows followed suit, twisting around your legs in slow patterns. You found it oddly soothing, watching them weave between each other like little wisps of smoke.

“Where’s dad?” you asked, drawing your attention from Az and his shadows to Rhys. It was then you noticed the bandage on his forehead, the bruises on his forearms. Rhys hung his head.

“After you winnowed here, and after we made sure you were going to live through the night, we went to find mom.” He let out a shaky breath, whole body tense as if reliving whatever hell he also experienced that night. You noticed Azriel grab his shoulder with his free hand, supporting your brother as he tried to calm down.

“And then we went to the Spring Court. Dad and I killed all of them, all of them except Tamlin.” He paused. “And then Tamlin killed dad.”

You let out a choked sob, looking up at the ceiling defeatedly. Azriel’s hand on your thigh stilled, and then gave you a soft squeeze.

“It was all Tamlin,” Rhys continued softly. “Tamlin told his dad where to find you. Tamlin killed mom, killed dad-”

“And he almost killed me,” you finished, blinking back tears. You pushed yourself up slowly, sitting on the bed while Rhysand and Azriel watched you carefully. You went to stretch, to stretch your wings, the first thing you always did when you got up out of bed, but they weren’t there. You let out a strangled sob, and Rhys and Az jumped up.

“(Y/n), what is it?” your brother asked, resting a hand on your lower back tentatively.

“Rhys,” you whispered, voice thick with emotion. “Rhys, he took my wings.”

And then you cried. Cried for your parents, for your wings. Rhys was sitting next to you in an instant, one hand still on your back and the other holding yours, whispering to you that it would all be okay. And Azriel was on your other side, cradling your shoulders in his hands as you hunched forward and sobbed until you couldn’t anymore. 

The sobs turned to muffled crying, to whimpers, to sniffles, and then you were resting your head against Azriel’s chest, breathing thickly, him and Rhys each holding one of your hands.

“We’re orphans now,” you said bluntly. “What the fuck.”

Rhys let out a singular dry laugh and shook his head.

“And you’re High Lord!” you continued, looking at him incredulously. “Terrible circumstances, but congrats. Hope you don’t fuck up too badly.”

“Thank you for that, really,” Rhys said sarcastically. You could feel Azriel laughing silently against you.

“What’s your first like, decree, going to be?” you asked curiously.

“I’ve already made it,” he replied. “Guess what it is.”
“Monetary reward for Tamlin’s dead body,” you said. Rhys shook his head.

“A ban on wing clipping,” he said softly. You gasped, tears pricking your eyes.

“Rhys-”

“Followed by a temporary ban on trading with the Spring Court.”

“Mom would’ve loved that,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. He gave you a tight-lipped grin and nodded.

“It’ll take a while to get all the different camps to accept it, and I’m sure it’ll never be stopped completely, but-”

“It’s a start,” you finished. “And a damn good start at that.”

“Thank you,” Rhys said, pushing himself off the bed quietly. Azriel helped you move so that you were sitting on the edge of the mattress, legs dangling off the side.

“How long will the trading ban last?” you inquired. Rhys shrugged.

“A while,” he said. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“At least ten years,” you said with a small grin. Azriel chuckled from behind you, the sound deep and warm. Rhys gave you an odd look.

“I was thinking more like a century or two, but yea, at least ten years,” he said. He looked at the entrance to the tent and back at you regretfully.
“I don’t want to leave, but I-”
“You have your fancy High Lord business now,” you said, waving a hand at him dismissively. “Go, be free.”

“I’m glad you’re alive,” he said quietly.

“Don’t make me get emotional,” you warned. He chuckled.

“I love you, (Y/n).”

“Love you, too,” you replied, giving him a small wave as he exited. You looked up at Az, his arm now wrapped delicately around your midsection to help support you. His other hand was resting lightly on your knee.

“Thank you, Az,” you murmured, resting your head against his chest.

“Of course.”

You relished in the soft rumble of his chest as he spoke, grinning as his shadows began to circle in front of you.

“Do you ever name them?” you asked softly.

“What?” he asked, looking down at you curiously. You gave him a sheepish smile.

“The shadows,” you clarified. He grinned, and your heart skipped a beat.

“No,” he said, “but I can tell them apart sometimes. It’s almost like they have their own personalities, if that makes sense.”

You nodded, shifting against him slightly and wincing. You felt him tense up.

“Are you alright?” he asked hesitantly, lifting his hand off your knee slowly as if to brace you, then dropping it again. “Is there anything I can do?”

You shrugged. “I guess I’m doing alright considering,” you said. “I mean, at least I’m not dead.”

Silence from Azriel. You sighed.

“Not that this situation is ideal, either,” you continued. Azriel’s grip on you tightened.

“I can’t imagine what you’re going through,” he said finally, his voice shaking slightly with an emotion you couldn’t identify. “I’ve tried, but I can’t.”

“Az-”

“It’s not fair.” His voice was a deadly whisper.

“It’ll be okay,” you said soothingly, reaching out for his hand and giving it a small squeeze. “I’ll be okay.”

Another pause. The two wounds in your back throbbed, the empty space hurting you more than any amount of pain.

“Azriel, it hurt so bad,” you whimpered, tears forming in your eyes as he wrapped an arm under your knees and lifted you into his lap.

He hugged you then, perhaps for the first time ever, and you buried your face into his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, cradling the back of your head with one hand and rubbing your back with the other. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“Oh Az,” you sniffled, “there was nothing you could’ve done. The only other person who knew we were there was Rhys, and I don’t blame him.”

“Still-”

“It’s not your fault,” you insisted softly, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. “But thank you.”
He nodded. “I’m still sorry it happened.” A whisper.

“It just-” you trailed off, trying to put into words what you were feeling. “It’s so weird, you know? My whole life I’ve had this weight on my back, that was just a part of me, and now it’s gone and I feel so light and empty at the same time.”

Azriel nodded, continuing to rub your back carefully, avoiding the bandages covering your cuts.

“They took a part of you,” he said finally, “but only one. And you, your kindness, the way you can light up any room you’re in, none of that came from your wings. You still have everything that makes you, you.”

You felt tears well up in your eyes and squeezed him a little tighter in your arms. “Az, thank you.”

Azriel rested his head against the side of yours, pulled you into him just a little bit more.

There was something he still wanted to say, you could feel it in the air around you. You were just about to ask him what he was thinking when he began to speak.

“(Y/n),” he said, nerves seeping into his voice, “there’s something I need to tell you, about when you winnowed to camp and we found you.”

“We?” you asked, pulling back to look at him curiously. He nodded.

“Rhys and I,” he clarified. “He was just leaving to meet up with you and…and then you just appeared, in the distance, and dropped to the ground.” His nostrils flared and he glanced downwards. “You were unconscious by the time we got to you, but Rhys ran to get the healers and I carried you here, and…”

His voice trailed off, and he looked up at you hesitantly. You urged him to continue.

“And when they had you in that bed, I couldn’t leave.” His voice trembled as he spoke, and you grabbed his hands to give them a comforting squeeze. “You looked so small, and helpless, and they told me I could go and that they’d call me when they were done stitching you up, but I couldn’t bear the thought of you being alone.”

He bit his lip, as if debating whether or not to keep going.

“Azriel,” you said softly, still holding his hands. “Say it. Whatever it is.” He glanced up at you and nodded.

“Something clicked, when you were lying here and they told us you were going to live.”

Your breath hitched, realizing what he meant. Azriel breathed deeply, then looked you straight in the eyes.

“(Y/n), you’re my mate.”

And as you truly looked back into his eyes for the first time since waking up, you felt something snap into place within yourself. Your eyes widened, and suddenly all you could feel and think about was him.

“Azriel,” you breathed, clutching his hands tighter. He perked up instantly, face hopeful as he reached up and cradled your face in his hands delicately.

“(Y/n)-”

“Holy fuck,” you breathed incredulously, giving him a small grin, “you’re my mate.”

“And…and you’re okay with that?” he asked cautiously, gaze boring into yours as you leaned closer to him.

“Yes,” you whispered, heart racing. “Yes.”

His lips were on yours in an instant, gently kissing you as he moved one hand to the back of your head, holding you gently as he trailed the other down your spine. You wrapped your arms around his back, ignoring the painful sting of your back that seemed absolutely unimportant compared to kissing Azriel, and pulled yourself closer to him.

He moaned softly as your fingertip brushed against his wing and your heart lurched, dizzy at the surge of feelings that washed over you.

You pulled back and laughed once, smiling as he tilted his head and gave you a lopsided grin.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, resting his forehead against yours gently.

“I’m just realizing I have no clue how to cook anything,” you giggled, shaking your head against his as he began to laugh with you.

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” he rasped, moving forward to capture your lips with his once again.

Fanart by LadyCamafeo on DeviantArt

Request: “angst to smut and then fluff” - Reader is a healer working for the Inner Circle, convinced that Azriel doesn’t like her.

Tags:@lillysugarsxx

Warnings:smut!!!! don’t read if you aren’t 18! also angst

Word Count: 6,000 (sorry)

A/N: Here’s another Azriel one! Sorry it took me about a week to write, I’m not amazing at writing smut and didn’t want it to be horrendous. I have a few more Azriel fics to write that people have requested, as well as one about Cassian! Feel free to request other stuff, but know it might take me a little longer to write it. I hope you enjoy! :)

Your father worked as an apothecary in Velaris, running a small shop to sell medicines and offer treatment when needed. You’d helped him ever since you were little - stocking supplies and bandaging small injuries. Over time, you developed a genuine interest in medicine and the chemistry behind it, working with your father as he developed new treatments for the common illnesses and ailments in the City of Starlight.

One night while your father was out on a house call, the High Lord of the Night Court himself had winnowed into your house after a mission had gone awry. He’d been seeking your father’s medical attention, of course, but he wouldn’t be home for hours, leaving you to tend to Rhysand’s wounds as he collapsed on your kitchen floor. While cleaning out a large cut on his arm you’d realized he’d been poisoned somehow, his skin far too pale for the minimal amount of blood he’d lost, his veins a startling shade of green. Despite your panic you’d been able to find a suitable antidote to the poison, calming down only when his complexion returned to normal. You wrapped his wounds, dragged him onto your couch, and called it a night.

In the morning, he’d been shocked that you’d been able to heal him, explaining he’d been struck by a poisoned arrow in a remote part of the Night Court. Apparently the poison was quite obscure, and Rhysand had praised you for what he deemed was “superior medical knowledge.”

You’d chalked it all up to a lucky guess, and after a once-over from your father you sent the High Lord on his merry way. A week later, he returned and offered you a job as a healer in the House of Wind.

You’d been hesitant to accept - you didn’t want to leave your father to run the shop alone - but at the end of the day, Rhys paid you more, allowing you to buy more supplies and medicines for your father to use. Plus, the library in the House of Wind was humongous, and you’d be able to learn more about medicine and healing there.

In the end, you’d taken the job, getting a better paycheck and the best friends in the whole world at the same time.

The Inner Circle was more than a family, and they’d welcomed you into their lives as if they’d known you for centuries. Rhys and Amren dedicated themselves to furthering your education, with Rhys frequently leaving new books outside your door and Amren inviting you over to her apartment to study. Cassian had convinced you to let him teach you self-defense, and Mor brought you with her to Rita’s almost every weekend.

There was, however, one member of the Inner Circle who hardly acknowledged your presence. After years of living in the House of Wind, you were confident Azriel hated you.

What other explanation could there possibly have been for the way he treated you? He hardly talked to you unless it was necessary, giving you answers and replies that hardly qualified as sentences. And you didn’t miss the looks he gave you during dinners and meetings that, in your opinion, were borderlining on glares.

What really sucked was how badly you wanted to be his friend. On the rare occasions you saw him smile or even laugh, you wanted nothing more to make him as happy as the other members of the Inner Circle did. But deep down you knew that would never happen; he simply wanted nothing to do with you, and that hurt.

But you ignored it, ignored his side-eyes and curt answers and obvious dislike of you. You understood it, you were a stranger who started living in his house and joined his centuries-old friend group. So you pushed all your own feelings aside and pretended that being in the same room as him didn’t spike your anxiety.

The most you’d ever done was ask Mor about it on your way to Rita’s one night. She’d dismissed you with a laugh and a wave of her hand: He’s just quiet, she said. But why did it feel so much more personal than that?

You didn’t want to cause any more trouble than you clearly already had, so you stayed out of his way, only asking him for anything when absolutely necessary.

But as months and then years went by, the anxiety he gave you only worsened. You’d stopped going to their weekly dinners, electing to stay up in your room or visit your father, and only attended meetings when your presence was necessary. Amren had asked you once if everything was okay, but you’d plastered a happy smile on your face and assured her you were just busy. You knew she didn’t believe you, but she didn’t pry.

What really sucked was that you’d stopped going to the library to avoid Azriel. It was one of your favorite places in the House of Wind, though apparently also one of his, considering he was almost always there when you were. Rhys brought you enough books for it not to matter much, but it wasn’t the same as reading in the library’s cozy chairs. You would move them near the windows, admiring the view of Velaris whenever you put your book down. Your room did not match the library’s aesthetic at all, but you were not willing to subject yourself to Azriel’s unfriendliness.

You still trained with Cassian once or twice a week, still visited Amren occasionally, still went out with Morrigan most weekends. But other than those few hours with your friends, other than the weekly trips down to your father, you kept to yourself.

You mostly stayed on your floor, studying on your balcony or in the sitting room a few doors down. Some nights, after everyone had gone to sleep, you’d creep down to the kitchen and read while you made yourself a midnight snack.

That was how you’d chosen to spend tonight, your books and notes laid out across the table while you stood in front of the stove, waiting patiently for the kettle to boil. You’d decided to make yourself tea, picking out a nice herbal variety so that you wouldn’t have any trouble sleeping when you decided to go to bed. You were humming to yourself softly, studying the designs on the mug you’d chosen, when you heard a small rustling behind you.

You glanced over your shoulder, eyes widening at the sight of Azriel sitting at the table, head propped up on his hand as he read a page of your notes.

He glanced up at you, your eyes meeting briefly, and you turned back to the stove. Perhaps you were having visions? You turned around again…

Alas, he was still there. Not a vision, you decided.

You bit your lip, looking between him and the kettle as your pulse quickened.

“Would you, uh, like some?” you asked, gesturing to the now boiling kettle and hoping he wouldn’t pick up on the slight shake in your voice.

He gave you a slight nod.

“There’s, um, black tea,” you offered, grabbing another mug from the cabinet above you. “But that’s caffeinated so you might stay up for a while if you drink that. I’m having herbal tea which doesn’t do that as much…there’s also green tea.” Your voice trailed off as you picked up the kettle, giving Azriel a cautious glance.

He shrugged. “I don’t know much about tea.”

“Okay!” you said rather shrilly, Azriel jumping a little in his seat. You pretended not to notice, focusing instead on pouring water into the two mugs on the counter. Your brows furrowed in concentration, yelping a bit as a bit of the boiling water spilled onto the counter.

You heard Azriel move in the chair behind you but held your other hand out to stop him.

“It’s good, I’m good,” you rambled nervously, setting the kettle down. You grabbed another tea bag and dropped it into his cup.

“You have to wait a bit before you drink it,” you explained, picking the two mugs up and turning towards the table. “It has to steep, and cool down.”

You set the two mugs on the table, pushing one over to him. He wrapped his hands around it slowly, as if afraid it might break.

You stared at your tea silently, hesitant to say anything else. This was the first time you’d been alone with Azriel in…weeks? Months?

Surprisingly, he was the one who broke the silence.

“Your notes are very detailed,” he said awkwardly, gesturing to the piece of paper he’d been reading before.

“Oh, thank you,” you replied, cheeks heating up a bit. “I spend a lot of time on them, maybe a bit too much.”

“The drawings are very realistic, I like them.” He brought the mug up to his lips and took a small sip. You gave him a small smile and glanced down at your hands.

“I haven’t seen you in the library in a while,” he continued.

You shrugged as if you had no idea. “I guess I’ve been busy.”

“Busy?” Azriel asked incredulously. “Doing what, may I ask?”

You frowned at him. “I’ll have you know I do quite a lot around here. Rhys is having me modernize a bunch of old medical texts. That’s a lot of work.”

“Enough to justify you staying out of the library for two months?” he asked.

“Quit stalking me,” you muttered quietly, grip tightening around your mug.

“My job is to watch people, Y/N,” he said easily.

“To watch people who could be threats,” you clarified, sending him a pointed glare. “Which I am not.”

He just stared back at you, and you felt a stab of betrayal at his silence.

“You think I’m a threat?” you asked, hurt evident in your voice.

“I never said that,” he replied quickly, but you were already standing up from the table.

“You also didn’t say I wasn’t.” You began piling your books and notes together, him standing up as if to stop you.

“You’ve been distant for months,” he stated, grabbing your wrist. “Missing meetings, avoiding people.”

“And?” you hissed, pulling your hand out of his grip.

“I’ve noticed in my line of work that people tend to withdraw from others when they’re plotting something,” he said bluntly. You gasped, taking a step backwards from him as if he’d slapped you across the face.

“You think I’m plotting something?” you seethed, no longer trying to keep your voice down.

“What other reason would you have to elude all of us?” he asked.

“To avoid you, Azriel!” you shouted, stepping forward and slamming your hand on the table.

His eyes widened in surprise, mouth opening as you grabbed your stack of books.

“Why-”

“Do not think,” you interrupted, “that I haven’t realized how you’ve regarded me these past few years.” Your voice was steady despite how angry you were.

“What are you talking about?”

“Ohcome on,” you seethed. “You glare at me like I’m some lowlife at every meeting, every dinner, every time I see you in the library.”

“I don’t glare at you,” he said incredulously, giving you a confused look as you shook your head.

“Youdoglare,” you maintained. “And you don’t reply to me half the time, you’re the only person in this whole house who’s never gone out of their way to talk to me. But then again, you think I’m some scheming infiltrator, so that all makes sense now.”

“I don’t think that!” he yelled.

“You just accused me of plotting something!” you reminded him angrily. “I literally avoid you because I don’t want to make you hate me more than you already do and you think I’m planning some act of betrayal!”

He just stared at you, mouth opening and closing wordlessly.

“Do you not care that I have spent every day of my time here terrified of upsetting you?” you shouted. But he remained silent.

And your whole facade crumbled.

“Do you not care?” you asked again, quietly, eyes widening as hurt replaced your anger. You let out a shaky breath, tears forming in your eyes, and turned towards the doorway.

“Y/N-” Azriel started, but you were already walking out of the room. He called after you again, and again. You did not turn around.

You were halfway up the stairs when you bumped into Rhys, tears spilling down your face as you let out a choked sob.

His eyes widened in shock. “Oh my gods, Y/N, what happened?”

You stepped back as he reached out to you, shaking your head at the confusion on his face.
“I can’t do this anymore, Rhys,” you rambled, voice shaking. “I can’t, not when he ignores me for years and then accuses me of fucking treason.”

“What? Who?” Rhys asked frantically, brows rising as Azriel appeared at the bottom of the stairs. You let out another sob, and then shook your head.

“I quit,” you managed between sobs. “I quit.”

And then you were racing up the stairs to your room, slamming the door behind you and collapsing on the bed. You heard several different knocks, but you answered none. Instead, you gathered up all your things and shoved them into the bag you kept under your bed. You left the books Rhys had given you in a stack near the door, left the dress Mor had let you wear one weekend laid out on the bed.

Before the sun rose, you snuck out of your room, out of the house, and walked down the ten thousand stairs leading back to Velaris.

—-

You’d been away for a whole week, working long hours at your father’s shop and spending the remainder of the day asleep. It was easier to push aside your feelings that way, easier to throw yourself into work than think about how badly Azriel had hurt your feelings.

It was early one morning while you were bandaging a young child that Azriel had walked into the shop, glancing at you as he made his way over to the waiting area.

Your eyes widened in shock and then narrowed into a pointed glare, half of you wanting to curse him out and make him leave. But the other half of you knew that would terrify the child in front of you, so you took a deep breath and plastered a fake smile on your face.

“That man looks scary,” they whispered to you, eyes wide with fear as they took in Azriel’s wings and the shadows that wrapped around him. Azriel turned towards you slightly, no doubt listening to your conversation.

“It’s wrong to judge others by their looks alone,” you murmured, tucking the ends of the bandage into place.

You glanced towards the front door as your father walked in, obviously struggling as he carried in a stack of supply crates.

“Good morning Y/N!”

Wordlessly, Azriel walked over to help him. You hadn’t told your father why you’d come back from the House of Wind, so his eyes lit up at the sight of the tall Illyrian.

“Ah, hello spymaster!” he greeted cheerily. “How can we help you today?”
“I came to talk to Y/N, actually,” Azriel replied carefully, sending a cautious look in your direction. “Where would you like me to put these?”

You scowled as your father directed Azriel into the backroom, pushing yourself up from where you’d been kneeling on the floor and patting your patient on the shoulder.

“You’re all set!” you smiled, helping the child out of the chair they’d been sitting in.

“Thank you!” they exclaimed, giving you a bright smile and prancing off towards the door.

“Be careful!” you called after them, walking over to the supply cabinet and returning the bandage roll to its drawer.

You stiffened as Azriel walked out of the storage room, watching out of the corner of your eye as he made his way over to you.

He stopped a few feet away, looking at you almost nervously.

“Yes?” you asked, turning your head to glare at him.

“I’ve come to apologize.” His voice was soft.

You laughed humorlessly. “Did Rhys force you to come?” You scoffed as Azriel nodded, rolling your eyes and turning to face the bookshelf by the window.

“I did want to apologize of my own accord,” Azriel replied quickly. You could hear his unease. “Rhys just…urged me to do so sooner rather than later.”

“Ah, does the mighty High Lord miss my presence? Did he think I’d be moved by your apology and want to come back?” you said sarcastically. Azriel looked down at the floor in front of him.

“Everyone, not just Rhys, misses you.” His voice was quiet. “And Cassian is convinced he’s going to get wounded during a mission and die because you won’t be there to fix him up. He keeps complaining about it, actually.”

You chuckled at that, the corners of Azriel’s mouth turning up slightly.

“I don’t want to beg you to return, but I will if I must,” Azriel continued. “Amren demanded I bring you back.”

You remained silent, weighing the options in your head.

“You can tell Amren I’ll be back tonight,” you said finally.

“I can bring you there now, if you want,” he offered. You shook your head.

“I’ll be there tonight,” you restated bluntly, grabbing a few pieces of parchment off the bookshelf and walking towards the backroom. You cast a dismissive glance back at him. “Goodbye, Azriel.”

Hours later, after you’d repacked your belongings and helped your father with his weekly shopping, you began the long trek up to the House of Wind.

If ten thousand steps going downhill was a challenge, ten thousand steps in the other direction was practically impossible. But you were too stubborn to accept help from Azriel, and too prideful to ask Rhys or Cassian either.

It was the middle of the night when you finally finished the climb and made your way into the large living room. Rhys was sitting on a large couch - obviously having stayed up waiting for you - and sent you a rather mean glare as you walked over towards him.

“I’ve been sitting here for hours,” he frowned.

“Hello to you too, gracious High Lord,” you feigned a bow, plopping yourself down in an armchair across from him. You groaned in exhaustion, reaching down to rub your sore leg muscles.

“You do realize Azriel could’ve flown you up, right?” Rhys asked bluntly, clearly unamused by your stunt.

“I don’t need his help,” you retorted, “nor do I want it.”

“I take it you haven’t accepted his apology?”

You shook your head. “It’s gonna take a hell of a lot more than some forced apology for me to forgive him.” Rhys sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“He really is sorry.”

“Oh, I’m sure he is,” you retorted. “He all but accused me of treason, he’d better be fucking sorry.”

“Y/N-”

“Even before this whole accusation thing, he’s never been nice to me,” you interrupted, throwing your hands in the air. “That alone is hard to forgive, let alone suggesting I was plotting against you all.”

“Perhaps it’s time to turn over a new leaf,” Rhys suggested. You gave him an incredulous look.

“Oh, should I bake him cookies?” you suggested sarcastically. “Here you go Azriel, after years of treating me like crap, I’ve come bearing gifts in the name of friendship!”

Rhys groaned, throwing his head back against the couch in defeat.

“All I’ve ever wanted was to be his friend,” you huffed. “Do you know how jealous I am of all of you? You make him smile and laugh like it’s no big deal, meanwhile the only reactions I can get out of him are mean looks and psychological analyses.”

Rhysand gave you a curious look. “Jealous?” he asked. You shrugged.

“I want to be able to make him happy, too,” you admitted defeatedly. “That’s why I started avoiding him. I figured I just made him upset.”

“That’s not true!” Rhys insisted, but you shook your head.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you said, standing up and grabbing your bags from off the floor. Rhys just gave you a scandalized look as you made your way towards the stairs.

“You can’t just go to bed after saying something like that!” he called after you. “All of that was completely untrue, we have to unpack that!”

“Goodnight, oh mighty bat man!” you called back as you climbed up the staircase.

Rhys cast a sad glance at the far corner of the living room. You’d failed to notice the winged male standing in the shadows, a broken look on his face.

—-
You’d started reading in the library again.

Something about the whole last week and a half had given you a much needed reality check. You lived in this damn house, for crying out loud! You could read a book in the library if you wanted to.

And who were you to care about bothering Azriel? You scoffed just thinking about it - there was no use trying to tiptoe around him anymore.

It was raining outside. You were sitting at a table, reading a book about muscle healing techniques, when two scarred hands slammed down on the wooden surface in front of you.

You glanced up, furrowing your eyebrows at the rather angry look on Azriel’s face.
“Can’t you see I’m busy?” you asked rhetorically, redirecting your gaze to the book in your hands.

You shouted in protest when he pulled the book away from you. “Give that back!” you yelled, lunging across the table.

He took a step back, out of your reach. “Not until you explain…this.” He gestured towards you briefly.

“What the hell do you mean?” you asked incredulously, eye wide in confusion. “Give me my book back!”

“Why were you avoiding me?” he asked. You groaned.

“I didn’t want to bother you! Can you just give me my book back?” He shook his head, lips pursed together in thought.

“See, that’s where you’ve got me confused,” he said, hazel eyes fixed on you intently. “When did I ever give you that idea?”

“That I bother you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as he nodded. “Oh, I don’t know Azriel, maybe all the times you’ve glared at me during meetings or given me half-assed answers when I asked for something?”

He glared at you, jaw clenching. You rolled your eyes and stuck out your hand.

“I answered your question, I want my book back.”

He shook his head. “I don’t glare at you. I’ve never glared at you.”

“You certainly don’t give me happy looks!” you retorted. “I’ve lived here for years and you’ve never once smiled at me or something I’ve said. I know I’m funny, everyone else likes my jokes!”

“Does that bother you?” he asked lowly.

“Of course it does!” you replied, eyes darting between his face and your book.

“Why?” he asked, hazel eyes boring into yours. You opened your mouth, then paused. You bit your lip, face heating up as you realized you didn’t have an answer. “Why?” he repeated.

“I don’t know!” you stammered. “Azriel I just want my book back, I walked all the way up here yesterday and my legs are very sore, and I’m trying to figure out how to make them stop feeling like jelly…”

Azriel kept his gaze fixed on you as he moved around the table, looking far too predatory for your liking. You took a step back nervously as he approached you, then another, grimacing as your back hit one of the large marble columns holding up the ceiling.

“Why does it bother you?” he asked again, voice softer but even more intense.

“Would you back up a bit?” you hissed, heart pounding as he kept drawing nearer.

“Answer my question,” he growled, stopping right in front of you. He reached out and gripped the marble on both sides of you, effectively trapping you against the column.

You gulped, looking up at him and taking in his strong jawline, his darkened eyes.

“I don’t know!” you cried again. You pushed your hands against his toned chest, frowning when he did not budge. “Move!”

He chuckled lowly, and your eyes went wide.

You stammered for a second, giving him a confused look. “Did I make you laugh?”

“I wouldn’t consider that a whole laugh,” he said with a small smirk. “Maybe a half.” Your jaw dropped.

“What is happening?” you spluttered, frantically looking between his face and his hands and his damn smirk.

Gods, you could get used to a view like this.

“You don’t bother me,” he said finally, gazing down at you with glazed over eyes. “I don’t know where you got that idea.” You leaned your head back against the column, bewildered. “And I do laugh at your jokes.”

“I…I thought you didn’t pay any attention to me,” you clamored, mind spinning when he shook his head.

“On the contrary, Y/N, I pay too much attention to you,” he answered with a gorgeous grin. “Half the time I can’t keep myself from staring at you. Perhaps you’ve been mistaking those looks as glares.”

“That can’t be,” you whispered, brows knit together. “I thought…” You trailed off, speaking proving to be too difficult as you lost yourself in his eyes.

And then he was leaning down, your heart practically leaping out of your chest at the realization that hit you. He was leaning down…leaning…

“Azriel,” you whispered.

And then his lips were on yours, and all you wanted was him.

You pushed yourself up into him, mouths meeting in a heated battle as he moved his hands to cradle your face. You moaned, head reeling as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, as he trailed a hand down to your hip.

You threw your arms around his neck and jumped, wrapping your legs around him as he slammed you back into the marble column. You moaned again, tilting your head up as he began exploring your neck with his mouth.

His name was like a chant on your lips, a cry leaving your mouth as he bit down on the skin between your neck and your shoulder. He growled, bringing a hand up to fondle one of your breasts.

“Azriel… Azriel please,” you begged, arching into his hand.

“What do you want?” he murmured, eyes dark as he watched you writhe against him.

You moaned loudly, the obscene noise echoing throughout the library.

“Touch me,” you managed, your core clenching as he groaned.

He whisked you away from the column, turning around and laying you on top of the table you’d been reading at minutes ago. You pulled him down on top of you, lips colliding in a sloppy mix of tongue and teeth. You didn’t care.

You trailed your hands down the broad expanse of his back, fingers brushing against the base of his wings. He shuddered against you, shadows tickling your skin sensually.

“Take this off,” you murmured, tugging at his shirt.

He was happy to oblige, pushing himself off you and pulling his shirt over his head. You groaned, trailing your hand down your body at the sight of him.

You grabbed at the laces that held the front of your dress together, undoing the knot as Azriel helped you shimmy out of it. He let out a wanton moan at the sight of your bare breasts, surging forward to capture one in his mouth and cupping the other in his hand.

You threw your head back, moaning as he made his way down from your breast to your stomach.

He looked up at you, hands gripping the fabric now bunched around your hips. You bit your lip and nodded, heat pooling in your stomach as Azriel slid the rest of the dress off of you. His eyes darkened at your body, displayed for him on top of the table.

“Let me just admire you for a moment,” he murmured, hand tracing a line from your navel to your thigh.

You gasped, arching your back as his fingers ghosted over the apex of your thighs. You were dripping.

“What do you want, darling?” Azriel drawled, grinning as you moaned loudly. “Use your words for me.”

“Please,” you panted as he dragged his hands down your sides, grinding desperately against nothing, relishing in the heat of his hands and the cold of his shadows.

“What do you want?” he whispered again, and you spread your legs.

“I want you here.”

He let out a strangled groan, dropped to his knees, and pressed his mouth against your aching core.

“Azriel!” you cried breathlessly, hips lurching as pleasure jolted up your spine. He snarled, throwing your legs over his shoulders. You moaned loudly, writhing in pleasure as he sucked your clit.

“Keep these still,” he growled, draping an arm over your hips and lowering his head again.

Your breath hitched as the coil in your center began to tighten, shaking legs clenched around the sides of Azriel’s face.

You glanced down, taking in the sight of Azriel going down on you as if his life depended on it - his nose rubbings against your clit, little pieces of his hair clinging to his forehead.

Azriel’s gaze snapped up to yours as a breathless moan left your lips, eyes blown out with lust. He thrust his tongue into you and you gasped, back arching off the table.

It was Azriel’s languid moan against your heat that spurred on your orgasm, your cries ricocheting throughout the library as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Azriel kept working you as you came, forcing you to push his head away when it finally became too much.

“Tapping out?” he asked cockily as he pushed himself back onto his feet. You glared, ignoring the way your heart swelled at the signs of your pleasure glistening on his face.

“Was that all you had to offer, shadowsinger?” you teased, sucking in a breath as Azriel’s face darkened.

“Gods, no.”

Azriel made a move for the string of his pants, glancing up at you as if he half-expected you to stop him.

“Keep going,” you urged, smiling as you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch. He gave you a small smile, undoing the knot and ridding himself of his pants and underwear.

Your eyes widened as his size; apparently, the saying about an Illyrian male’s wings was true. He was more than endowed, and your mouth practically watered at the sight of him. You trailed your eyes back up his toned body, melting at the nervous look on his face.

“I want you inside me,” you said with a smile, reaching your hands out for him.

A look of relief washed over his features as he moved forward, grabbing your outstretched hands as he bent down over you for a kiss.

You flung your arms around his shoulders, tongue moving against his as your mouths collided. He groaned, trailing his calloused hands down to your thighs.

He spread them apart and wrapped them around his waist in one fell swoop, pulling back to ask for your permission one last time.

“Are you sure?” he asked softly.

“Gods, Az, just fuck me,” you replied, throwing your head back against the table as he thrust into you.

He groaned, pushing into your heat until he had bottomed out. You gasped, trembling as you basked in the searing pleasure of him inside you.

“Is…do you feel good?” he huffed, clearly making a large effort to not start pounding into you.

“Move,” you panted, eyes closed as you rotated your hips frantically. “Please move.”

“My pleasure,” Azriel moaned, pulling back slightly and snapping his hips forward.

You were a moaning mess as he started a slow but steady pace, moving your hands to grip his biceps as he thrust into you again and again.

“Faster,” you breathed, moaning as Azriel pressed his forehead against your and quickened the pace. You admired the sounds coming from him, the shaky breaths and occasional groans.

You cried as he hit that one spot deep inside you. His hips stilled for a moment.

“There?” he asked, giving another experimental thrust. This time your back arched, toes curling as he grinned.

He began speeding up again, stroking the flame inside you as he hit that same spot with every thrust.

You were reduced to wordless cries, jolting every time he sheathed himself within you. Your eyes snapped open as Azriel let out a true moan, pulling yourself up crash your lips against his.

He grabbed onto one of your legs again, hitching it above his shoulder as he continued fucking into you. You cried into his mouth, body tensing up with anticipation as he brought his thumb to your clit roughly.

“Are you going to cum?” he asked breathlessly, hips snapping into yours at an almost inhuman speed.

As if in response your core tightened, back arching off the table as you came with a sob. Your hips writhed against his as you rode out your second orgasm of the night, entire body trembling as you clutched onto him for some kind of stability.

You felt his grip on your hip tighten, felt something within him snap as he pulled out of you, letting out an animalistic roar as he came. You gasped, hot ribbons shooting onto your stomach and breasts.

You felt dizzy as you opened your eyes, immediately blushing at the way Azriel was studying your body from above you. You glanced down, biting your lip at the sight of his cum painting your skin.

“That’s hot,” you grinned, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Azriel let out a strained chuckle, grinning as he pushed himself up and collapsed next to you.

“You’re hot,” he replied bluntly, closing his eyes as he combed his hair back.

You fell into a contented silence, save for the two of you panting as if you’d just worked out. Though, you supposed fucking could be considered a workout in some regards.

“I suppose you don’t hate me as much as I thought you did?” you asked finally, turning your head to gaze at him.

He shook his head with a smile, stretching his arms above his head on the wooden tabletop. “I never hated you.”

“Well, that would’ve been nice to know,” you laughed. “Gods, we could’ve been having ridiculously hot sex for years!”

Azriel laughed, really laughed, deep voice sounding throughout the room as you smiled brightly. His laugh had always been beautiful, but it sounded so much more special now that you were the one who caused it.

“I suppose the whole house knows we’ve reconciled,” he hummed thoughtfully.

You nodded, lips pursed. “We were indeed quite loud.”

He turned to face you, smiling as your eyes trailed down his body.

“I do own a small cabin in the woods north of Velaris,” he said slowly, a jovial smirk on his face. “I’m sure it wouldn’t matter how loud we were there. Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

You grinned. “I think we should ask Rhys to send us on a retreat to further explore our new friendship. For purely professional purposes.”

“Yes, I’m sure that would have a significant effect on workplace morale,” Azriel replied, biting back a smile as he reached out a hand to stroke your face. You hummed, leaning into the touch.

“You know, I haven’t taken one vacation the whole time I’ve worked here,” you said, watching Azriel’s face contort with realization.

“I don’t think I have either,” he stated alarmedly, a suggestive look quickly overtaking his face. “I think now would be a great time to invoke all the vacation time we’ve earned.”

You grinned, rolling on top of Azriel and kissing him again.

Fanart by jessdraw.s on Instagram

Request: “(Y/N) is the youngest Archeron sister and Azriel knows that she’s his mate when he first meets her in the human lands (but obviously she doesn’t feel it bc she’s only human at that point) and then maybe continue to when she’s kidnapped/turned into fae in Hybern/she realizes he’s her mate as well??”

Tags: @milllionthingsihaventdone

Warnings: depictions of violence and pain, swearing

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: One of my favorite Azriel requests ever. Very fun to write! As a small life update, I am safe and enjoying Spain very much. Love you all and hope you enjoy reading :)

Feyre had been gone for nearly a year when she returned to the estate from beyond The Wall. Of course, you hadn’t been home when she arrived, and had learned from Nesta later that afternoon.

You were the youngest Archeron sister - a year younger than Feyre - and had focused all your energy on school after your father regained his fortune. Not knowing how to read or write or do basic math had been your largest shame during your years in the cottage. There was no way for you to help other than helping skin the animals Feyre brought back, and even then you lacked the skills necessary to help her sell them at the market. You were determined not to let your family fall into such a situation again, and saw your education as the only way to guarantee that. You’d caught up rather quickly, and hoped that one day you’d be able to go to school in Neva and become a clerk or a banker.

That was where you’d been when Feyre had arrived. You could tell something had happened when you returned - there was a heavy tension in the air. Nesta was sitting on your bed waiting for you, her face set in stone, her shoulders stiff. You gave her a quizzical look as you closed the door behind you.

“You alright?” you asked, dropping your bag on the ground.

“Feyre’s here.” She spoke as if it were some common fact.

Your eyes widened as you turned around again, reaching for the doorknob “Why didn’t you say so-”

“Y/Ndon’t!” Nesta commanded, standing up from the bed and ignoring the bewildered expression on your face. “Do not open that door-”

“Why the fuck not?” you half-shouted, scoffing when Nesta stiffened at your words. “We haven’t seen her in months, you don’t get to keep me from seeing her.”

“She’s a faerie now.”

A pause.

“What?” you asked slowly.

“Feyre has been…changed, into a Fae. And she’s brought three of them with her.” There was an underlying pain in Nesta’s voice. “I thought you should know before you saw her.”

You could practically hear your heart pounding. “Are you sure?” you asked finally. “Are you positive?” Nesta nodded.

You gulped, brows furrowing. “Well, she’s still our sister,” you started, “and I’d like to say hi.”

“I swear, Y/N, if you walk out of this room-”

You rolled your eyes at Nesta, pushed the door open and stalked into the hallway.

“Y/N!”

“Please shut up, Nesta!” you called over your shoulder, heading in the direction of the guest room.

You knocked once, twice on the door, rocking back and forth on your feet as you waited. “Feyre?” you called. “Nesta said you were here…”

Your voice trailed off as the door opened slowly and Feyre’s head popped out from behind it. Your eyes widened, taking in the pointed ears, the tattoo on her hand, the nervous look on her face…

“Y/N, I-”

You pulled her into a tight embrace, your sister’s words dying on her lips. She let out a relieved sigh and wrapped her arms around you. “I missed you,” you whispered. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I was afraid you wouldn’t be,” Feyre murmured. “Nesta sure isn’t.”

“Sucks to be her,” you replied, grinning when Feyre giggled. You pulled back, inspecting her carefully. “You look healthy,” you noted. “And the ears look fabulous.”

“You really think so?” Feyre asked with a small grin. You nodded eagerly.

“Very cool.”

Your gaze trailed to the room behind Feyre, eyes widening at the sight of three very tall, very intimidating men with…

“Are those wings?” you asked incredulously, staring at the two donning bat-like wings and dark armor. Feyre chuckled nervously as the one with longer hair gave you a charming grin.

“They are indeed,” he said, spreading his wings out behind him to show you better. The red jewels on his armor gleamed.

“Feyre, who is this?” asked the third man. This one didn’t have wings, but instead a pair of intense purple eyes.

“My younger sister, Y/N.”

You waved hesitantly. “I’m assuming you’re all faeries, too?” They nodded. You cast a glance at the other winged man leaning against the bed frame. His hair was shorter, and the jewels on his armor were blue instead of red. He was also shrouded in a dark, twisting haze.

“I didn’t know you had a younger sister,” the one with longer hair said. He looked a little offended.

“Well, I didn’t know you existed either,” you shrugged. “Rather unfortunate.”
Feyre rolled her eyes as the man chuckled. “Feyre, I like her.”

“Y/N, this is Cassian,” your sister said. The man gave you a quick wave. “And that’s Rhysand…” (another wave from the man with purple eyes) “…and Azriel.” Azriel gave you a faint smile before looking back down at the carpet.

“Well, hello,” you said shyly. “Welcome to our home.”

Rhysand chuckled. “That’s the first nice thing we’ve heard since coming here.”

“My sisters are a little less…fondof faeries,” you explained apologetically. “I’m sorry if Nesta was a lot to deal with.”

“No need for apologies,” Rhysand said dismissively.

You turned to your sister. “Will the four of you be joining us for dinner?”

“Yes, as long as Nesta doesn’t throw us out before then,” Feyre joked. You grinned.

“That’s bound to be entertaining.”

—◯—◯—

At dinner you sat next to Azriel, cautiously eating your soup as you watched the drama between your older sisters with wide eyes. Every once in a while Cassian would interject with something funny and you would laugh, only for Nesta to silence you with a pointed glare. You thought the tension between him and your eldest sister was quite comical.

“So, you don’t have a problem with us?”

You looked over at Azriel and shook your head. “No, not really. I was afraid of you all when I was growing up, but once Feyre came back the first time I figured you couldn’t be all bad. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been so desperate to leave again.” You bit your lip, remembering the day she’d left again for Prythian. Azriel seemed to notice the change in your mood.

“Did you miss her?” he asked. You nodded.

“I love her, more than anything,” you said. “But it hurt. It felt like she was choosing another life over us…” You shook your head. “But there was nothing left for her here. And I’m happy she found you all.”

Azriel nodded, chewing a forkful of potatoes thoughtfully. “We’re happy to have her.”

Your attention was drawn once more to Nesta, whose face had turned a furious shade of red at Cassian’s incessant remarks.

“Butshehates us?” Azriel asked again.

“Oh, yes,” you said with a nod. “Completely.”

“Noted.” A beat. “And your other sister?”

“Elain doesn’t hate,” you explained, glancing at your other sister sitting quietly next to Nesta. “But she definitely isn’t a huge fan. And her fiancé, well, he’s like Nesta but ten times worse.”

“I’ll avoid him then,” Azriel said, pushing his empty plate forward and turning slightly to look at you. “And you…Feyre doesn’t talk about any of you much, but she hasn’t mentioned you at all.”

You shrugged. “She’s always been protective of me. I think she’s just doing what she wishes Nesta had done for her.”

Azriel nodded, understanding. “She’s been through some tough situations, I understand why she’d make an effort to keep you out of it.”
You spared Feyre a glance. “She’s the strongest of all of us.”

“Well, definitely of her, Nesta, and Elain,” Azriel remarked. “But I know nothing of you, so I can’t judge entirely.”

You grinned shyly. “There’s not really much to know.”

He raised an eyebrow skeptically. “I’m sure that’s not true. What do you like to do?”

“I like to read, I guess,” you said with a shrug.

“You can read?” Azriel asked, a confused look on his face. “But Feyre…”

“I didn’t learn until after she left,” you explained. “I used the money to get a tutor, and then I started going to school when I caught up to the people my age.”

He looked surprised. “That’s a lot to accomplish in a year.”

“Well, it’s kind of a necessary skill, you know? When we were starving in the woods, all I could think was that if I knew how to write or do math I could get a job and help Feyre provide for us all, but I couldn’t.” You scratched the back of your neck, a little embarrassed. “All I do now is study. I never want to be in a position like that again.”

“I understand,” Azriel said, giving you a small smile. “I know what it’s like to be forced into a compromising situation. And now you have the ability to keep yourself out of it, and so you’re working as hard as you can for that.”

You blinked, a little shocked by how well he understood you, and nodded. “Yes, exactly,” you whispered.

“What do you like to study?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and taking a drink of his water.

You cleared your throat, rubbing your hands together nervously. “I like math a lot. I want to go study it more in one of the big cities, where they have whole institutions for it and stuff.”

“What do you want to do with that?” Azriel asked, genuinely interested.

“Well, I’ll probably become a banker or something, but I think I’d really love to study astronomy.”

Azriel bit back a grin. “I think you’d enjoy watching the sky at night in the city where I live.”

“Really?” you asked.

He nodded. “If Nesta ever lets you come visit, I’d love to show you.”

“I think I’d really like that,” you replied with a hopeful grin.

—◯—◯—

There was something about the Mortal Queens that left you completely unnerved. The way they seemed more than willing to sacrifice the Mortal Lands in Prythian, the way they seemed rooted in their decision before Rhysand and Morrigan had even begun speaking. It was like their visit was performative - like they wanted you all to think they cared, but really they only valued their own power and wellbeing. They could care less how you all fared in a fight with Hybern.

And these realizations left you shaking. You were terrified, scared for your family and your home, scared for the faerie folk north of The Wall that you’d just begun caring for. Your hands had begun to tremble in the middle of the meeting, and you hadn’t been able to stop it. You’d clasped them behind your back, gripped the chair in front of you, all to no avail.

Azriel had noticed. He’d been standing behind you, and moved up to your side when he noticed how anxious you were getting. He gave you a look that asked Are you alright?, to which you gave a dismissive shake of your head. But the Spymaster saw right through you, and took one of your hands in his and squeezed it reassuringly.

This had worked, for a little while. You allowed yourself to become distracted by the hand that held yours, which you were now seeing ungloved for the first time. You were taken aback by the scars, and wondered what awful things he’d had to endure to get them, but thought they made him seem more strong and beautiful than before.

Unfortunately, even with Azriel holding your hand, by the end of the meeting you were shaking again. The minute the Mortal Queens vanished into thin air you rushed out of the living room, hurrying off to your room as tears welled in your eyes and slamming the door behind you before anyone could hear you cry.

You collapsed against the wall, sobbing and shaking in defeat. Feyre would be the first lost to Hybern if they attacked, but in the end all of you would be killed in this war that seemed so sure to happen.

There was a soft knock on the door.

“Y/N?”

Azriel.

“Y/N, please can I come in?”

“It’s unlocked,” you tried to say, voice wavering more than you wished it would. You wished you could be like Feyre, you wished you could be strong.

Azriel was in your room in an instant, crouching in front of you and clasping your shoulders. “Y/N, look at me.”

You brought your eyes up to his and inhaled sharply, transfixed by the emotion on his face.

“Az-”

“You are going to be fine,” he said, his voice deep and smooth and comforting.

“You and Nesta and Elain are going to be fine. And Feyre is going to be fine. Cassian and Rhysand and I would face Hybern ourselves and die before letting anything happen to the four of you.”

You let out a strangled, desperate noise, and Azriel’s face broke.

“But I don’t want anything to happen to you, either,” you sobbed.

“Y/N.” His voice was no more than a whisper.

And then Azriel was holding you to him, your face pressed into his shoulder and his into your hair as you clung to him wildly.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you whispered, relishing in the warmth of him and the feel of his hands caressing your back. You feared you’d never see him again, that you’d never feelhim again. And more than anything, you feared you’d never get the chance to figure out what these feelings meant.

“You won’t,” he said, “I promise you won’t.” And you almost wanted to believe him.

—◯—◯—

When you regained consciousness, Elain was being dragged towards a cauldron in the middle of the room. And there was screaming, so much screaming…

There were your sisters, and Feyreand Rhys and the members of the Night Court, and the blonde woman who had showed up at your house and-

Nesta was screaming, clawing and thrashing and shouting for Elain. You went to stand up, only to be held down by a man with yellow hair and green eyes.

“Ah, the youngest is awake.” A cold, sinister voice. And then Feyre shouting, and someone else shouting, and oh god there was Azriel’s body, limp on the floor.

You shrieked, struggling as you tried to free yourself.

“Tamlin, make sure the girl is watching. She’ll be next, after all.”

The man wrestled you into an upright position, his hand on your jaw forcing your head forward. You watched as Elain was dunked in the Cauldron, tears streaming down your face, and gasped when she emerged completely different.

And then you realized, they were turning you into High Fae.

You screamed as Tamlin pushed you forward, digging your heels into the ground to try and push back.

“You’re so tedious.” The cold voice again. You scanned the room, eyes settling on a crowned man with the darkest eyes you’d ever seen. “The struggle isn’t worth it, you might as well go with some dignity.”

Feyre screamed, and you grimaced, pushing back again. It was no use.

You began to sob as Tamlin dragged you closer to the cauldron, begging for him to stop. You could’ve sworn you saw Azriel twitch where he lay on the ground.

And then Tamlin was hoisting you up, ignoring your screams as he pitched you into the Cauldron. You closed your eyes, hoping whatever would happen would be done quickly.

Cold. The first thing you noticed, and then searing pain. You cried out, pushing yourself up from the bottom of the Cauldron only for someone’s hand to push you back down.

The cold liquid turned blazing hot around you, energy coursing through your body as you changed, limbs stretching and heart pounding and skin searing.

And then someone was pulling you up, hoisting you out of the water.

You felt dizzy, and everything was blurry. You could make out Nesta’s face, fire in her eyes and she screamed, but you couldn’t hear her. And there was Feyre, face dreadfully pale. And Azriel, who was trying to push himself up off the floor, face twisting with pain as his eyes met yours. The first thing you heard was his strangled cry as he tried to reach out for you.

Tamlin let go of you, and you stood on your own for a moment, swaying, before collapsing onto the floor. Nesta roared.

“Well, that took longer than expected,” the cruel man laughed. “The Cauldron took more time with you than your sister, huh?”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to scream, blinking in confusion as you looked down at your own hands, suddenly so unfamiliar. You felt so defeated, sitting there on the ground as Nesta was dragged kicking and screaming to her fate.

Silence. Nesta was in the Cauldron. You slumped forward in defeat, head reeling as the Inner Circle struggled to reach you and your sisters. The last thing you saw before losing consciousness again was Azriel’s panic-stricken face.

—◯—◯—

You woke up in an unfamiliar room, in perhaps the comfiest bed you’d ever been in. You moved to sit up, grimacing at the pounding in your head, and inhaled sharply as memories flooded you. You looked down at your hands, noticing the slight differences in the way they looked and in the way you were seeing them, and realized it hadn’t been a dream.

You blinked again, trying to adjust to the heightened details your senses were picking up, the textures of furniture and sounds of birds chirping outside your window. It was all very overwhelming.

As if on cue, the door opened and in stepped Azriel, looking a bit worse for wear. His eyes, underlined by dark circles, widened upon seeing you sitting upright, and he rushed over to the bed.

“Y/N,” he breathed, sitting down next to you carefully and cradling your face in his hands. You let yourself fall into him, allowed yourself to relax in his touch as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Hi,” you squeaked, nuzzling into his chest. He pulled back, brown eyes darting up and down as he inspected you.

“When did you wake up?” he asked softly.

“Just now,” you replied, twisting your head to stretch your neck. “How…how long was I asleep?”

“A couple of days,” he answered, a grimace on his face. You nodded, not quite knowing what to say.

“Where’s Feyre?” you asked finally.

“In the Spring Court,” Azriel answered, shoulders slumping slightly. “With Tamlin.”

You scoffed. “The asshole who dragged me into the Cauldron.”

“That’s the one,” he said with a half-hearted chuckle. You scowled.

“What’s she doing there?” you asked. “I thought she was, you know, with Rhys.”

“She is,” Azriel said, looking up at you. “Feyre is not only Rhysand’s mate, but the High Lady of the Night Court. She’s alive and well, and spying on Tamlin for us.”

Your eyes widened, nodding slowly. “That’s certainly a promotion,” you stated, trying to process what Azriel had just told you. “Good for her.”
Azriel laughed, an exhausted and relieved laugh, and pulled you in for another hug.

“Gods, Y/N,” he breathed into your hair. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to hold you again.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak as you snaked your arms around his torso.

“What happened to me?” you asked, voice no more than a whisper.

“Ianthe…the priestess who works with Tamlin, she kidnapped you from your home.” Azriel’s voice was thick with emotion, and you bit your lip as he pulled you closer to him. “And then she brought you to Hybern, where we were ambushed trying to remove the Cauldron’s power.”

“That’s why you were unconscious?”

Azriel nodded and gulped. You realized he was crying. “And then they turned the three of you into High Fae, and Feyre distracted them so we could get you all out.”
You pulled back, heart breaking at the misty look in his eyes. “Where are we now?” you asked, glancing around the room.

“You’re in the House of Wind, in Velaris,” he answered, a small smile on his face. “The City of Starlight.”

Your eyes lit up. “The Night Court?” you asked, trying to contain your budding excitement. Azriel nodded. “Holy shit.”

He chuckled, shifting backwards slightly and looking down at where your hands rested on the comforter. He swallowed, then reached out and gently took them in his own. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice smaller than you’d ever heard it before. Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean?” you said softly.

“I promised to protect you.” His voice was a whisper now. “I promised you I wouldn’t let any harm come to your family and I failed, I-”

“Absolutely not,” you interrupted. His eyes snapped up to meet yours, and you shook your head. “You did not fail. You were literally unconscious when Tamlin put me in the cauldron. They had to knock you out to get to us, and that still didn’t keep you away. Don’t you dare say you failed.”

“But-”

“And we’re all here now, and we’re all alive.” You paused, frowned. “We are all alive, right? Nesta and Elain…”

“They’re fine,” he said quickly, hands squeezing yours. “Nesta…well she’s not doing well emotionally, but they’ve both been up for a few days.”

You nodded once, leaning forward and pressing your forehead against his. “Please don’t blame yourself. I don’t think I could stand it.”

“I’m still sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t be,” you begged. “You got me out of there, while you were injured yourself. You’ve done more to keep me safe than anyone.”

He gave you a small smile. “Don’t forget Feyre,” he said. You grinned.

“I’ll consider you tied with Feyre.”

You pulled back slightly, glancing around at the room and taking in the lavish furniture, the rich purple color of the walls. “Rhys really has a lot of money, huh?” you said, looking back at Azriel. Azriel shook his head, smiling.

“He has more money than he knows what to do with,” he replied, eyes full of adoration as he gazed at you.

“Do you think I could…borrow some of it?” you suggested. “It’s not that I don’t love the decor, but if I’m going to be staying here for a while I think I’d like to buy a painting or something.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” he chuckled. “Maybe we could go into the city, and look at some art shops?” 

“I’d enjoy that,” you said, nodding eagerly. “You could show me around, you know?”

Azriel grinned, ducking his head and looking down at his hands. “Do you remember when we met, and I told you I’d take you stargazing if you were ever here?”

You nodded. A beat.

“Would you like to do that, tonight?” he asked tentatively. “Just you and me?”

“Yes,” you replied quickly, a smile blossoming on your face. “Yes, please.” Something about the hopeful look Azriel was giving you, the way his eyes shone at you with adoration, left your heart stuttering in your chest.

—◯—◯—

“So, it isn’t always nighttime in…the Night Court?” you asked hesitantly. You were on top of the House of Wind with Azriel, the two of you lying down on a blanket he’d brought up with him. Azriel chuckled and shook his head.

“Rats,” you said. “Got that one wrong, I guess.”

“We do, however, have the most beautiful nights in all of Prythian,” Azriel pointed out. You grinned.

“Yea, Az, it’s gorgeous.”

Never in your whole life had the stars seemed so close. You reveled under them, picking out constellations as Azriel told you about Velaris. Every once in a while you glanced over at him and were rendered absolutely speechless, admiring the sharp angles of his face and the curve of his nose. He looked beautiful in the starlight.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked softly.

You nodded. “Anything.”

He bit his lip. “You have to promise not to get mad.” He paused, reconsidering. “I’m nervous that you will.”

Your brows furrowed and you shifted next to him, resting on your side so you could look at his face. “What is it?”

You watched him swallow, close his eyes as if whatever he was thinking about physically pained him. “You understand how the whole…mate thing works, right?”

“Kind of,” you replied slowly. “Like Feyre and Rhys?”

Azriel nodded. “Exactly like Feyre and Rhys.”

“Well what’s that got to do with-” You stopped, eyes widening in sudden realization. “Azriel,” you whispered, voice deadly quiet. “Are we…?”

You trailed off as he nodded, an uncomfortable look on his face.

“Oh.”

He sighed. “I understand if you need time, or if you don’t want anything with me. I just want you to know I’m here for you-”

You climbed on top of him, effectively cutting him off as you buried your face in his neck and hugged him tightly. He inhaled sharply, clasped his arms around your midsection tightly, as if he never wanted to let go.

“Azriel it’s okay,” you said softly, “You’re fantastic, I could never be mad at you, especially for something like this.”

He let out a shaky breath, pulling you closer to him still. “Thank you.”

You closed your eyes, breathing him in, recalling all the times you’d felt an indescribable pull towards Azriel, all the times he’d been the only person who could calm you down or understand you.

“How did you know?” you mumbled against him.

“I think I’ve always known,” he said quietly, one hand rubbing your back. “There’s always been something so special about you, something that made me want to keep you safe. And then the minute you changed in the Cauldron…”

Azriel took a deep breath, and you remembered the desperate look on his face when Tamlin had pulled you out of the Cauldron, remembered the way he’d been so injured but still tried to reach you.

“Something just snapped,” he whispered. “And I think I had been unconscious, but suddenly you were coming out of the Cauldron and all I could think about was you and how scared you looked.”

“Azriel,” you murmured, pushing yourself up to look in his eyes. You felt your resolve crumble at the tears running down his face, and reached up gently to brush them away.

“How-” you started, brows furrowing as you searched for the right words. “How does one…agreeto a situation like this. What am I supposed to do?”

Azriel’s voice was slow and unsteady as he answered. “If you were to accept the mating bond, the female typically makes something for the male to eat.”

“You sound like you’re reading from a textbook,” you teased, giggling when Azriel rolled his eyes. “So, what do you like to eat?”

Azriel’s eyes widened in surprise. “Y/N-”

“I know you had potatoes when you came over that one time-”

“Y/N, you don’t have to accept it,” he said hurriedly. “I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything, and I’m perfectly happy to wait.”

“I think I’m going to make us cookies,” you hummed, resting your nose against his. Azriel gasped softly, his eyes fluttering shut. “Would you eat them with me?”

“Yes,” Azriel strained. “Gods, yes.” He brought his hands up to hold your face, and your eyes shut as he kissed you reverently. And you stayed there for hours, holding each other under the starlight, whispering soft I love you’s between kisses, before heading down to the kitchens hand in hand.

1+1=4 .Chapter Two

(Not my best work. Apologies in advance)

Reader’s POV..

The first thing that you felt as consciousness crawled its way back to you, was how heavy everything felt. The slightest movement made your hands and feet feel like trying to drag mountains along with them. As your vision cleared, you saw why. Your hands and feet were tied in chains, each with a weight attached. Panic surged through you. Where were you? Why were you here? How were you here?

Soon all the memories of the day started coming back to you. You had gone out with Nesta. And someone had attacked you. Or at least kidnapped you. Someone had kidnapped you. In broad daylight. The thought terrified you to no end. How had they gotten through Velaris’s security measures? Rhysand had ensured that the city would be off limits to any threats. So how had they…

Before you could ponder your dilemma any longer, the creaks of a door tore through the silence of the room. Glancing up, you saw that you were faced with a man, with two other flanking him from behind. It didn’t take long for you to figure out just who had been stupid enough to do all this. The scent of bonfires and rich orchards spread. Beron.

“Well, well. The lady finally awakes. I was beginning to think we had gone through all this trouble for nothing if you were just going to spend all your time here sleeping,” the High Lord snarled, a measly grin plastered on his face.

“What do you want Beron?” Genuinely curious as to why he would go to such lengths and risk himself.

“To remind your High Lord and that Spymaster of their place. They’ve begun to think that they can bend the rest of us to their will. Just last week that mate of yours slaughtered our sentries.”

“Sentries that were infiltrating our territory,” You spat back.

“Regardless. I think your head on a platter will do wonderfully won’t it? Remind them to stay in their limits,” Beron said complacently, as if he truly believed this stupid plan would work.

“Then you’re an even bigger idiot than I had imagined Beron. Do you really think you can force Rhysand to adhere to your commands? Even if you kill me, but they’ll never bow to you. The only thing you will gain is an early death.”

“You have that right, little bird. You are of no use to me dead,” the bastard rambled on. Your skin crawled at the title he had given you.

“Alive, you can be used as leverage to make the Night Court more amiable to certain agreements. I’m sure your mate would go to any lengths to get you back, no? Although… I need you alive, not unharmed. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind a few bruises here and there, a few broken bones perhaps? You know just a little something to… make them more persuasive let’s say,” he declared.

Panic froze your very blood. This child had been a blessing from the Mother. Something you and your mate had cherished. The two of you were happier than you had ever been. Scared but excited beyond belief to finally be starting you own family. You couldn’t lose all that. Not like this. Beron signalled to the two men behind him, both of which made their way over to you. The glint of metal made you realise both of them had weapons in their hands.

“No, no, please! Please!” you pleaded, desperate for any way out of this hell. Although your assailants were not affected in the least by your begging. Before they could reach you, as a last resort to save both your lives you screamed,

“No! No! Please! I’m pregnant! I’m pregnant! Please don’t do this!”

A single shout from Beron had the two men halting where they were. Bracing yourself, you moved your arms from where they had been shielding your face and gazed up at Beron. The High Lord was grinning ear to ear, an evil glint in his amber eyes.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise? A lovely one at that. Now there’s nothing we could ask for that the Night Court would deny. After all, Azriel wouldn’t want any harm to come to his child now, would he?”

You had never imagined that Beron of all people would know of your pregnancy before your family. Azriel did. And that’s what mattered. Nesta did too. And that was something that Azriel did not know. The eldest Archeron had always been close to your heart, even when her relations with the rest of the Inner Circle were not that good. She was nothing short of a sister to you. So keeping that in mind, you had told her when you had gone out with her, begging her to not tell anyone, even Cassian. She had begrudgingly agreed, overflowing with excitement. At least now… someone else knew. If she was to die here… at least Az wouldn’t suffer alone. He would have someone who understood his pain of losing the two of them, someone who would hold him together. And she knew Nesta would do it. For her, she would do it.

Beron threw another one of his disgusting glances at you before walking away, him men right behind him. Leaving you all alone in the darkness, wondering how everything had gone wrong so quickly.

……………………………………………………………………………..

Time became a dark, motionless sea. Not moving forwards or backwards. It trudged slowly where it was. The inertia of it all was becoming suffocating. You had no idea just hoe long you had been trapped here. All you knew was that it had been too long. You were ravenous with hunger and each and every muscle in your body was sore.

You had just begun wondering how long you would be able to survive without food now that you were pregnant, when your luck blessed you with company once again. Great. Beron was probably back to gloat or threaten or do whatever the hell the son of a bitch had thought of in that weasel like head of his.

However, as luck would have it, this time Beron had sent his eldest son to talk your head off. Eris. This was good. Eris and Rhysand had long shared an alliance. An unstable, unreliable alliance but a mutually beneficial one nonetheless. Maybe he could get you out of here, if anything just to gain favour with Rhysand. But even that bridge didn’t seem too sturdy. How far would Eris go for his alliance with the Night Court? Would he risk his father’s wrath in his own court, where he could oh so easily get caught.

So you were caught by surprise when you saw that Eris was accompanied by a servant carrying a tray of food, who set it before you in the cell before scurrying away.

“What’s all this?” you asked warily.

“Well I don’t know about the Night Court but we do tend to treat our ladies with respect. Especially pregnant ones. So I figured you might need some sustenance,” the Autumn heir replied.

“How do I know its not poisoned?”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to trust me on that darling,” he shot right back.

“Trust you? Well we did and look how that turned out for me? ”you spat back at him, all the distress and tension boiling to the surface.

“I don’t know what you think of me but despite my influence, I cannot control what my mongrel of a father does.”

“Beron’s not really that stupid is he? Does he truly believe this plan of his to pressurise Rhysand is going to work? If anything it’s only going to screw you people over even more. You said it yourself, I’m pregnant. You know what that means doesn’t it? It means my mate will go to any lengths to get me back. He’ll kill you Eris. Azriel will kill you all if anything happens to me. And even Rhysand won’t be able to stop him this time. So please for once in your life, use that head of yours. You claim to be an ally of the Night Court don’t you? So help me, help me get out. You know you’ll be spared if you do, I’ll ensure it.”

Eris gazed at you with his amber eyes. You could see the cogs turning in his head, his eyes flickering as he processed what you said. Finally he straightened himself and said one more thing before leaving,

“Eat. I’ll see what I can do.”

Azriel POV…

Every single part of his being was begging him to go and find whoever had dared to do this, to torment them so bad their next seven generations would remember. It was all his fault. He had been foolish enough to even entertain the idea of a family. Men like him didn’t deserve that. No, they were cursed to suffer alone for eternity. How dare he try to be happy when he had damned countless others? How could he have a child with you when there were so many monsters lurking in this world, aching to get a chance at revenge.

And he had said so. He had voiced his concerns to you, about being a bad father, about being bad for you and the baby. But you, being the kind and loving soul that you were, had assured him that he would be okay. That all of you would be okay. Now… you were gone. You had been stolen from him from your own home. The thought made him want to burn the whole world down.

Nesta had come up empty with any idea about who it had been or even what had happened. The only thing the oldest Archeron had to offer was that she had gone to get the two of you some food and upon returning had found your table empty. He had left soon after that to look for any potential leads, to look for anything that would help him find you.

He had returned empty handed, more frustrated and scared than he had been before he left. If anything happened to you or their child because of his negligence he would never be able to forgive himself.

The worst part was that no one else knew about the pregnancy. So they couldn’t understand his fear, his urgency to get you back. And he didn’t feel like telling them either. Partially because he didn’t have the time nor patience to have that conversation right now, but also because he knew this was a huge deal to you. This wasn’t how you would have liked to tell them all. And God forbid something happened…

He shuddered as he shook the thought from his head. Rhysand’s floor would probably need to be replaced since his pacing had worn it down to nothing. No kind words or reassurances from his family would calm him down. In fact they were making him even more enraged. He had never before felt a stronger urge to murder Rhysand than now. For some godforsaken reason, Rhysand kept preaching at him to take the “diplomatic” route as he put it himself. Like the High Lord expected him to go knocking to every court to ask if they had kidnapped his mate. It pissed him off even more because he knew Rhysand was being a fucking hypocrite, he knew that Rhysand would every single law or rule that there was if it had been Feyre. Yet he was expected to play nice.

“I know that you don’t have that much when it comes to brain capacity, but this is stupid even for you Rhysand! Whoever did this could be torturing my mate and you expect me to stay put!” he spat at him brother. The rest of his family silently watched from the side-lines, knowing better than to try and get between these two.

“I am using my head since it is clear that you can’t right now! You can’t just go on a killing spree in the courts in a blind guess that you’ll find her somewhere. Do you have any idea what you would jeopardise?” This wasn’t his brother speaking. No Azriel knew this was the High Lord of the night court. And it didn’t deter him one bit.

“You’re the one who’s not listening! You want me to risk my mate, my wife’s like for what? For some stupid treaties so that you can go and have tea parties with the other courts!”

The look in Rhysand’ eyes was ice cold. Before the High Lord could reply, Cassian intervened,

“Az, Rhys is right one thing. We need to figure out who did thus first so we can come up with a plan of attack.”

He closed his eyes and took a shuddering deep breath. If only they knew what their mindless bickering was risking. If only they knew how each passing second that you were not by his side was burning his very soul away. That was when it hit him. Burning. Of course it was them. How the fuck had he been so slow?

“Beron. It has to be Beron. No one else would be stupid enough to do this,” he put out.

“We don’t know for sure. We can’t give Autumn any reason to wage a war. We have to be diplomatic about this…” Rhysand started. But Azriel had already made up his mind. He was going to get the two of you back. No matter what he had to risk. What was the worst Rhysand would do? Kill him? At least the two of you would be safe. At least he would die knowing it had been to protect his family.

“You be diplomatic. I’m going to get my wife back,” he said, voice a deadly calm, before disappearing into his shadows. The last thing he heard was Rhysand screaming his name and Mor begging him to stop.

If Rhysand was the High Lord, he was the Shadowsinger, the Night Court’s Spymaster, feared across the seven courts. He didn’t need anyone’s help.

……………………………………………………………………………………………..

Now that he had a suspect, there was no time to waste. After his departure from the House of Wind, he had gone directly to their home. Cassian was right about one thing, he needed to be prepared.

That was what had preoccupied him right now. He stood in his house’s in built training arena, strapping up all the weapons he could physically carry. Azriel had just put a knife back in his sheath when his shadows alerted him of another’s presence in the house. If Rhysand had come all this way to talk him out of this, he was going to get an earful, and probably a few punches. But he was surprised when Cassian walked in instead and started grabbing weapons as well.

“You know Rhysand’s going to have both our asses for this,” Cass said nonchalantly as Azriel stared on.

“Uhh what are you doing?” Azriel inquired, still confused on his brother’s intentions.

“I’m coming with you. I figured after that lovely conversation with Rhysand there was no way you were going to actually stay put. And someone needs to make sure you stay alive, so I’m coming as well,” Cassian replied. “ And don’t even think of trying to convince me otherwise. Either I’m coming with you or I’m tying you up right now and going to go get Rhysand. Your choice.”

Azriel only took a deep breath and threw another dagger at his brother. The general caught it seamlessly and threw him one of his signature, sly grins. So the two Illyrians snuck out of the house and then the Night Court. It was then that Azriel swore to himself that he would either return with you at his side or not at all.

…………………………………………………………………………………………

Turns out, some deity out there had pity on him and had actually blessed him with good luck. The two didn’t have to do any infiltration themselves. The last person who they had expected to help them had come through at the last second; Eris. The Autumn Court heir had contacted them through one his own sentries and had provided a location to some bunker where you were being held. Whether or not they could trust him was another thing altogether. It was worth a shot. Even if you weren’t there, he would first slaughter everyone in the bunker and then Eris himself. Then he could go and find you.

But as soon as the two of them walked in he knew it was the right place. Your scent was everywhere. God. If there was so much as a single scratch on you, he was going to go and kill Beron himself. Consequences be damned. Alarms were rung as soon as they walked in. About two dozen guards ran towards them. Azriel only turned to Cassian with a smirk of his own. It had been quite a while since the two of them had had fun on the battlefield together. It had started to become quite boring actually. Oh well. These poor guards would make for some excellent entertainment.

They had slaughtered each and every one of them. Not that they had ever stood a chance. The two males were now covered completely in blood, not a drop their own. None of the guards had been good enough to land a blow. After they were disposed of the two split up to look for you.

In the end, it was Azriel who found you. Slumped in the corner of a barren cell, an empty tray of food at your feet. You were sleeping, or unconscious, he did not know. All he knew was that you looked too pale, too weak. As if sensing his presence, you awoke. The familiar light of your eyes soothed his very soul.

You took one glance at him and rushed up, throwing your arms around him. He didn’t know who started sobbing first.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he started murmuring into your hair as he held you to him, basking in your scent that now covered him.

“No, no, Az. It’s not your fault. I should have listened to you. I should have stayed home…” you started rambling but Azriel shut you off with a kiss. It ignited your very soul. All the passion and fear and love and sadness that you had been feeling for the past few days came rushing to the surface. You only tightened your grip and kisses him harder, hoping it would convey your feelings.

“Come on let’s go home,” he whispered against your mouth and took your hand.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

The two of you had filled Cassian in on your way back. The general had only then understood his brother’s frustrations. Despite everything, as you had anticipated, Cassian was bursting with excitement. He had thrown his arms around the two of you and gave both of you huge, bear hugs, after which he proceeded to shout,

“I’m going to be an uncle!!!!!” to the city of Velaris.

Azriel had taken you straight home and had sent Cassian to get Madja immediately. Despite trying to assume him that you were fine, you had to admit that the past few days had taken a toll on you, mentally if not physically. You were quite literally drained and that amount of tension and fear couldn’t possibly be good for the baby. But Madja had eased your fears after a long, thorough check up.

The healer had explained that while the past events had not been ideal in the least, it had thankfully not taken any significant toll on you or the baby. Although you needed a strict bed rest for the next few weeks as well as a proper diet, and as Madja had put it,

“No more stress or tension whatsoever. And no more of these foreign excursions to other courts. I mean it. She needs rest without any disturbance, Azriel. Keep your mate happy.”

The healer had departed soon after along side Cassian. Cass looked like he could not contain his happiness and after begging the both of you, had gotten permission to tell everyone else of the pregnancy, on the condition that he would keep all of them at bay for at least a few days so that you could get some proper rest.

“Don’t worry about anything at all. I’ll take care of those psychos. And don’t worry about Rhysand either, Az. I’ll talk to that stingy asshole myself. And yeah.. anything you need just say the word okay? The two of you just stay home and relax.”

After which the general said his farewells and left as well, finally leaving the house to just the two of you. You had taken a long, warm bath after he had left and now sat in your bed, wearing one of your mate’s shirts as he gently brushed your hair. When he was done detangling and braiding your hair, you turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck so that you were sitting in his lap. Azriel’s gaze was so tender and loving, his touch so delicate as if you were made of glass. It made you want to cry.

“I thought I lost you. Both of you. I was so scared, I felt like my heart was going to stop, ”Azriel admitted, tears rolling freely down his face.

“I was scared too Az, more than you know. I thought I would never get to see you again. And that thought hurt more than any weapon of theirs ever could,” you whispered back just as softly.

“But you’re here now. And I swear to you, I am going to protect the both of you with my life. I’m not going to let anything happen to you or our baby.”

You only nodded because you knew you need not say anything. It was the truth. You knew Azriel would protect you until his last breath. So you just let your mate wrap his arms around you as he lay down. The last thing you remembered before you fell asleep was the feeling of his wings embracing you, shielding you from the world outside, and his shadows running through your hair like silk.

……………………………………………………………………………………………..

(Timeskip)

Nine gruelling months later, you lay in bed, covered in sweat and tears. Giving birth to a baby was hard enough. Giving birth to a baby with wings was harder. But giving birth to twins made your body feel like it was going to tear itself apart from the inside out.

After a seemingly, never ending labor, you now sat leaning against the bed, watching your mate swaddle your babies with Madja’s guidance. The sight made your heart feel full. You had found out only last minute that the two of you were having twins and the panic had driven the two of you up the wall. This was not what you had prepared for. Even all the stuff you has accumulated over the nine months was only for one baby. The two of you still needed to get a new crib, a cot, clothes and Cauldron knows what else. But Cassian and Rhysand had eased your worries in a heartbeat, assuring the two of you that they would take care of everything, ever the doting uncles.

Amidst your pondering, you hadn’t noticed that Madja had left. Azriel made his way over to you, each arm carrying a baby. A boy and a girl. Perfect. Just like you had thought they would be.

You took your son in your arms while Azriel sat beside you with you daughter. Annalise and Mikhail. These were the names the two of you had decided after countless nights of debate and discussion. Azriel had chosen Anna’s name so it had only been fair that you get to name your son. But Azriel had loved the name. Loved that it was of Illyrian heritage and signified and what it meant as well. Your children were truly nothing more than a gift from the Mother, a blessing bestowed that the two of you would cherish your entire lives.

As luck would have it, despite bearing them in your womb for nine months and going through excruciating labor, both the children looked exactly like their father. Annalise was his clone copy. She bore his dark, raven hair and glistening hazel eyes. Her features were just like his as well. Intense and like they had beauty built into every inch of them. Mikhail was no less. He had his father’s dark hair and handsome looks, but he had your eyes. You had that at least.

As you gazed at your mate and your children, you still couldn’t believe it was real, that you were really here. That you had survived Beron and labour and everything else life seemed to throw at you. And you voiced these concerns to Azriel. He moved to kiss your forehead, then of your son’s and daughter’s before saying,

“I will be eternally grateful for what you have blesses me with. What you have gone through to bear our children is no small feat. But I promise I will always love and cherish you for it. And Annalise and Mikhail as well. I will love you all with everything I have as long as I live and I never let anyone hurt them. I swear it.”

“I know you won’t Azriel. And I swear I will do the same for you. I love you Always and Forever.” Your mate smiled at you as his eyes shined with tears. With the window open and the slight breeze blowing, he seemed to whisper back to the very stars themselves,

“I love you too. All three of you. Always and Forever.“

…………………………………………………………………………………

Taglist:@mooncleaver@cheshmetkoshgele@elegantranchcowboytree@bibliophilelife124

1+1=4

Summary: You find out that you and Azriel are about to have a baby. The two of you were happier than ever since this was nothing short of a blessing considering how rare children are amongst Fae. But what will happen when both your careers get in the way?

Word count: 6k

Warnings: Fainting, sickness(nausea)

Being the mate of the night court’s spymaster came with many benefits. You got to spend your long life with the most beautiful, loving male in existence and along with him you got an equally adoring family who had taken you in you in as one of their own. It was an honour and a privilege to be part of the high lord’s inner circle and you were extremely grateful for it as well, even if they did get really annoying and loud sometimes. But hey, what family isn’t like that?

But it was smaller moments like this that made your heart grow ten times its size. The first inkling of dawn had started showing in the sky, endless black giving way to brilliant, serene blues. You and Azriel were wrapped up in each other, limbs entangled in the soft silk sheets. A night full of roaming hands and breathless cries had reduced you both to a limbless mess that breathed in tandem, trying to get some rest after spending the entire night awake.

Azriel’s head was tucked into your neck. He lay on top with both his arms wrapped around you. Your hands made slow, comforting passes in his hair and back, careful to avoid his wings, wanting to give the poor male a break after the night’s frenzy.

It way almost ten when you awoke. Unsurprisingly, your mate’s side of the bed was already made up, and cold. Azriel had obviously woken up long before you to go about his daily tasks. That man and his routine. Even a century hadn’t been enough for you to change that. However the absolutely mouth watering smells coming from the kitchen told you that your mate was busy preparing breakfast. Your heart swelled. It never failed to make your heart melt how considerate Azriel was. The little things he did for you made you love the man even more.

Pulling on his shirt from last night, you walked out of your room to the kitchen below. And low and behold, there he stood. Your mate was clad in nothing but loose trousers, chest laid bare for you to stare at. His hair was all ruffled up, partially due to your roaming hands from last night, but it only seemed to make him even more adorable. He didn’t turn to you but you knew he was aware of your presence due to the small shadow that raced out to wrap itself around your wrist.

You walked over to hug your mate from behind. His soothing scent instantly calmed your very being.

“Look who finally woke up,” he remarked. It was a testament to the fact that you knew him so well, you could feel the smile blooming on his face without even opening your eyes.

“Well I was getting rather hungry in bed. And my mate is just such a talented cook, all these aromas are making my mouth water.”

“Is that all I am good for?” he snapped back, a mock frown on his face. Eyebrows furrowing in a way that you had always found cute.

“Hmmm there’s that handsome, handsome face of yours as well,” you started but were interrupted by your own shriek as Azriel turned around and picked you up.

“You naughty, naughty little minx. Why must you always be like this?” he said as he put you down on the counter. Despite his remarks, smiled down at you fondly. Cupping your face in his hands, he kissed your forehead and your heart exploded. It always did whenever Azriel did this. With everyone else he was always so reserved and quiet but with you he was so open and expressive. He always wore his heart on his sleeve and his glistening, gold-hazel eyes always held such love and adoration whenever he looked at you.

The two of you spent the morning just like that; wrapped up in each other, enjoying the delicious arrays of food your mate had prepared. No matter how much you would have loved to spend the entire day with your mate in bed, you knew the two of you had to leave for the House of Wind soon. Cassian would have both your asses if you didn’t show again, especially yours, since he thought you were mostly to blame for keeping Az away from the training ring. If only he knew of his brother’s greedy hands and even naughtier shadows.

Nonetheless you both got ready after a long, long shower. This time however you were truly to blame. Azriel’s glorious body laid bare before you was just too much temptation for you to ignore. Now you sat on the bed, braiding your hair as Az strapped up all his knives. You were too clad in your own leathers and stood to join him when a sudden wave of nausea rolled over you.

At first you thought your head must be spinning because of getting up too fast but then the wave returned once again, ten times stronger now. All of a sudden you had the urge to throw up all your breakfast. Before you could so all over your bedroom floor, you rushed to the bathroom. You had barely reached the toilet when your body decided to hurl your guts out. Everything you had ate came rushing out as you threw up with your head in the toilet seat. A second later you felt your mate’s steady arms around you, his hands gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

After what seemed like ages, you stopped throwing up. Although the sick, nauseous feeling didn’t pass so you lingered there some while more, in case you threw up again. You got up, with Azriel’s arms wrapped around you because you were sure you would fall if you tried to stand on your own.

He sat you down on the bed and kneeled before you, running his hands up and down your arms in an attempt to soothe you.

“Hey, are you okay? What happened?” Az inquired, concern etched across his face. Great. You hated it when he worried so much, about you or anyone else. Leave it you to ruin last night’s good mood.

“I don’t know Az. It just… came over me all of a sudden,” you replied slowly, not having the energy to even form full sentences.

Your head was spinning so bad. Everything was blurred. Putting your feet up, you laid back on the pillow and closed your eyes, trying to appease your aching head. When it didn’t work, you turned to your mate. Azriel was still kneeling in his previous position, the worry flowing from him through the bond melted your heart. Knowing Azriel, he would make you stay in bed all day just so he could take care of you and make sure you were okay. And while that thought was extremely endearing, you were also aware of your mate’s innate anxiousness. He would worry himself a fever of his own if he stayed home all day. So you sat up and got ready to leave once again,

“Well whatever it was, I’m fine now. Let’s go. We’re late already and you know Cassian’s going to start whining if we’re not there soon.”

But Azriel grabbed your arm before you had even gotten up fully and instead started reprimanding you,

“There is no way you’re going to train today. You’re sick, you should rest. I’ll go get Madja as well.”

You knew this would happen. And you also knew that convincing Azriel would be a nightmare. But you truly wanted to go to training today. You missed training with the Valkyries, despite Cassian’s incessant whining.

“Az, I’m fine. I swear. It was just morning sickness, probably because of something I ate..”

Instantly Azriel’s eyes widened. It took you to a second to realize just what you had said, and before you could take back your words, Azriel shot out, voice laced in panic,

“Are you saying the food I made, made you sick?! But… I ate it as well…Everything was fresh..”

“No, no, no. Azriel, baby that’s not what I meant. There was nothing wrong with breakfast alright? It was delicious. If anything I probably ate too much of those heavenly waffles of yours,” you tried to convince him.

“So let me go and get Madja. She’ll tell us for sure what happened,” he repeated.

“Azriel, I promise I’m fine. Truly. Come on, let’s go.”

Azriel didn’t say anything but his eyes showed crystal clear just how much he wanted to protest. At this moment, concern was ebbed into every inch of his beautiful face. And you hated it.

“Az, please. I know you’re worried, but I am completely okay. Whatever that was, it’s gone now. And training is only going to make me feel better. You know how Cassian always says, being active is always the best cure.”

“So you’re quoting Cassian now? I never thought I would see this day,” Azriel taunted.

“Ugh, I am using Cassian’s lines aren’t I? Please don’t tell him. He would never let me live it down,” you begged. You knew Cassian’s ego would become bigger than the mountains around Velaris. Azriel sighed,

“You’re such a hypocrite you know? If I was sick you would have locked me up at home and forced me to rest.”

“That’s because you always push yourself beyond your limits and burn yourself out. I, on the other hand, am perfectly rested and just threw up once,” you tried to reason. Azriel took a minute before asking,

“You promise you’ll take it easy? And you’ll let me know if you get tired?”

“Yes. Yes. I swear.”

Azriel took your hands in his before kissing them both and stood to winnow the two of you to the House of Wind.

………………………………………………………………………………………

As you had expected, Cassian had started yelling as soon as the two of you walked in.

“You know I can’t really think of anything that was so important that you two had to show up an hour late,” the general barked out.

In response you only smirked and replied,

“I can think of a few things, but I can imagine why you can’t.”

Nesta and the others snickered in the corner and so did Azriel before Cassian told you to go warm up. He was deciding what to practice today with Azriel in a corner while you stretched with the girls. All the while you could feel your mate’s watchful gaze. Rolling your eyes, you turned to yet again reassure him that you were fine when you saw his expression turn sour, before he said something to Cassian who only nodded and moved over to the girls waiting. Curious, you walked over to Azriel to ask why he wasn’t joining you guys for training today,

“Everything alright?”

“It’s Rhys. He wants me to go to Ironcrest with him for a meeting,” Az replied dismally. You were well aware of your mate’s aversion of the Illyrian camps and had even worked with him to get over that strong hate of his. And he seemed to be getting over it slowly as well so this moodiness really confused you.

“It’s only for a day, Az. You’ll be fine you big bat,” you joked, trying to lighten his mood.

“It’s not that…” If it wasn’t the Illyrians bothering him, then what was…Oh.

“Azriel, darling. How many times do I have to tell you, I am fine. Do you want me to write it down for you?”

Azriel shot you a glare at your words. You knew he was worried but going to Ironcrest might actually be good for him. If anything it would take his mind off of what happened this morning.

“Are you sure you’re alright? Truly?” he asked slowly. You only nodded.

“And you’ll tell me if you feel sick again?”

“Yes, Azriel. Now go work you overbearing bat!” you answered.

Azriel kissed you one last time before winnowing away. You slowly walked over to the others when Cassian remarked,

“The two of you are really useless whenever you’re together, just like a bunch of horny teenagers!”

Feeling particularly snarky, you shot back,

“Why must you take your frustrations out on the rest of us just because you don’t get any action Cassian.”

Later you would find that perhaps you should have kept your mouth shut. Perhaps you shouldn’t have taunted your general and trainer so much. As it turns out Cassian’s response to your jokes would not be another taunt, no, no. That sadistic son of a bitch made all of you train five times harder than you usually did. More laps to be run, more obstacle courses, basically more of everything.

Everyone was getting tired and you could feel some of the priestesses throw you some nasty glares, probably because they blamed you for today’s extra work. Even Gwyn and Nesta, the ones with the biggest mouths, had said,

“You just couldn’t keep quite could you.” As a response, you had only shrugged and continued your exercise.

Now Cassian was having all of you run laps around the training arena, which seemed to expand after every lap. Your legs started to numb and you were becoming more light headed by the second. And you had promised Azriel to take it easy today. Maybe the Shadowsinger was right. Maybe you couldn’t be trusted to take care of yourself.

So after what seemed like your hundredth lap around the arena, you walked over to Cassian. The task difficult in and of itself. By now you were sweating buckets and you could swear your vision was blurring.

“C'mon Cass. I’m sorry okay? We’ve had enough for the day, everyone’s tired. We can train more tomorrow,” you tried to reason with the general.

“You should of thought of that before running your mouth,” he snapped.

“Then let us take a break…”

“Nope. And last I checked you still have ten laps left,” Cassian threw back without remorse.

“Cass I’m serious. I’m really tired. At least let me get some water,” you cried.

“Like I said, ten more laps. Then you can get your water,” Cassian said shortly. Frustrated and tired, you merely flipped him off before running to join the others.

You had managed only one more lap when it happened. Everything was blurred all of a sudden, the voices around you too muffled to comprehend. Your legs numb, too weak to hold up your weight. Darkness started creeping up in the corners of your vision. A sharp pain pierced through your abdomen and you hit the ground.

Nesta had been the one closest to you and had just turned around to make a joke about your slow speed when she saw you crumple to the floor. Yelling your name, she ran to your side.

Upon reaching you, she saw how drained you looked. Your skin that was always glowing and sun kissed was now too pale to be normal. Despite the scorching heat you were cold to the touch. Fear coursed through her very being as she yelled for Cassian on the other side of the arena. Hearing her anguished cry, Cassian turned to them and his eyes widened at the sight before him. The general had been beside them in an instant and after trying to shake you awake, had picked you up and flew you down to the House to get Madja. The valkyries not far behind him.

All the while, guilt and fear seemed to take turns gnawing at his heart. You had told him you were tired, that you needed a break. He had done this to you. Shit. Azriel was going to kill him. After five centuries he was going to die at his brother’s hand. It wasn’t the worst death possible per se. If Azriel went easy on him, that is. Which he probably wouldn’t.

………………………………………………………………………………………

Azriel knew something was wrong as soon they walked out of the suffocating cabin of the Illyrian lords. An ice cold feeling rushed through him and his heart felt as if it had been stabbed with an ashwood arrow. The feeling nearly making him lose his balance as he grabbed the nearest railing for support. His mind jumped to all the worst conclusions. The bond between him and his mate was pulled tight as if trying to hold itself together. The complete and utter silence from you didn’t help either. He quickly sent a message to Rhys that he was leaving and without waiting for a reply, winnowed back to Velaris.

As soon as he arrived, he rushed to where his shadows told him. Instead of seeing you, he was met with Cassian and Nesta, along with Gwyn and Emerie. Nesta opened her mouth to say something but he beat her to it,

“What happened?” His tone laced with deadly iced, only concerned with the well being of his mate, nothing else. It was Nesta who answered yet again,

“Well we were training and running laps when she fainted. She must have gotten tired…”

Although he interrupted her once again as he turned to Cassian and spat at him,

“Damn it Cassian! I asked one thing from you. One fucking thing. I told you to take it easy on her today!”

The general didn’t even have the courage to look his brother in the eye, knowing full well that it was because of him that the woman, who was by all means his sister, was in this state. Although his silence only seemed to enrage the Shadowsinger even more. Azriel moved to probably punch the shit out of him when the door opened and Madja walked out.

Azriel was by her side in a second, asking a thousand questions. But Madja silenced him by only saying,

“She’s perfectly alright Azriel. Go, she’s waiting for you.”

Madja left soon after ushering the rest of them along, without saying anything more to Azriel, only giving him a kind smile. This confused the male even more. Surely if anything was wrong, the healer would have let him know right? While it should have reassured him, the tension slammed back into him like a tidal wave when he re-entered the room and saw you staring blankly at the wall, your hand bunched up in the sheets. Immediately he was by your side. The anxiousness only increased when he put his hands around your face to get your attention but you still stayed silent.

“Darling what’s wrong?” he asked apprehensively. Silence.

“You’re scaring me, love. What did Madja say? Is everything alright? Do you want to see another healer? I can…”

Your heart had dropped when Madja had given you the news. Although you still hadn’t decided whether it had been in a good way or bad way. It’s not like you didn’t want kids. On the contrary, you loved children and had always wanted some of your own. It was just…honestly you don’t even know what’s bothering you. The war with Hybern had been over for almost ten years now. Prythian has been relishing in hard won peace. Sure there were small conflicts here and there between the courts, but even those were on a diplomatic level.

But still… both your jobs were highly dangerous, especially Azriel’s. It was an honour to work for the High Lord of the Night Court, but it came with an inevitable list of enemies who would go to any length to hurt you or your mate. Was it even safe to have a child in such conditions? Was it even fair considering they could be orphaned any day?

And Azriel…what would he think? Would he want this? The two of you had many conversations about having children but it was always in the distant future, never a set time. Some day. Some year. Never had the two of you actually decided when you would start trying.

“I’m pregnant,” was all you let out, in a whisper so low he almost thought he had imagined it. Almost.

“What?”

“I…I’m pregnant,” you repeated.

It was his turn to go silent now. This was… not what he had been expecting. However his silence seemed to have instilled a certain fear in you as you pulled your hands away from him instantly. God, he was an idiot.

You not only pulled your hand away but physically recoiled as you got up and started pacing the room. He remained still where he was. Pregnant. You were pregnant. His mind was thinking a million different things at the same time, trying to process the news you had just given him. It wasn’t like he was against having children. Not at all. It was just that the news was so sudden and had come out of nowhere. But he soon realised he needed to push his own uncertainty aside as he saw tears making their way down your face.

He was instantly at your side, bringing you once again to sit at the bed.

“Hey, its okay. You’re fine. Everything’s fine,” he tried reassuring you. But as a result you only cried harder.

“Darling, what’s wrong? Are you not happy? You don’t have to do this if you feel like you’re not ready…”

“What? No! No. I thought you… I thought you weren’t happy because you didn’t say anything,” you cried out.

“Of course I want this. I’ve wanted a family with you ever since we first got together. I was just shocked, that’s it. Of course I’m happy you idiot!” he exclaimed before leaning forward and kissing your forehead. The two of you stayed like that for God knows how long; hands intertwined and foreheads together.

“We’re having a baby,” he whispered, like a secret. A secret so sacred that the thought of sharing it felt like sacrilege.

“We’re having a baby,” you whispered right back.

………………………………………………………………………………………

While the two of you were happier than you had ever been, and it was increasingly difficult to contain said happiness, you both decided that you would keep this from everyone else. At least for the time being. You had made the excuse that you hadn’t been sleeping well which is why you had passed out from exhaustion. Whether or not they had believed you was another story altogether. Although considering everyone knew of how often you and your mate got busy with your activities, the excuse wasn’t entirely unbelievable.

The two of you stayed home together, too overjoyed and overwhelmed with the news to deal with anyone right now. The brilliant orange and yellow of the sky were giving way to the endless black of the night sky as the stars started to appear from behind the clouds. The two of you simply held each other in bed, trying to process and come to terms with the events of the day.

Bringing a baby into this world was a huge deal… the responsibility, the risks. It was all so much. To say you were terrified would be an understatement. But Azriel wanted this and so did you. After the two of you had processed the initial shock, he had kissed you hard and told you just how happy he was, how he was going to be at your side no matter what. It wasn’t like you were having second thoughts, no, you were just scared and uncertain of your abilities.

You turned to look over at your mate. Even though his eyes were closed, you knew he wasn’t sleeping. The moonlight filtering in from the windows cast an ethereal glow over him and made him look even more beautiful than usual, which you didn’t think was possible. Azriel was perfect, in every way that mattered. Even if he disagreed. To you Azriel was the beauty of angels personified for the world to enjoy.

He slowly opened his eyes and took you in,

“Why aren’t you sleeping my love?,” he asked.

“Just thinking,” you answered, intertwining your hands in his. Running your fingers through the scars and ridges, you brought his hand to your mouth and placed a delicate kiss on his knuckles. Though you didn’t miss the shudder that went through him as you did.

“About what?”

“Everything I guess…”you murmured, “Like how are we going to tell everyone?”

“Cauldron, they’re all going to freak out,” Azriel groaned.

“Especially Cassian and Rhysand. Those two are going to go nuts,” you laughed out, truly amused as you tried to imagine your family’s reaction. You knew the two Illyrians would go ballistic at the thought of becoming uncles. Considering the two of you are the first out of the inner circle to have children, it’s not completely unrealistic that they would all be excited.

“Maybe we should just tell Cassian. He would go crazy over it and go tell everyone else. We wouldn’t even have to do anything,” you offered but were met with only silence.

You turned to your mate and saw all the mirth that was there only a few seconds ago, was gone. Now his eyes looked hollow and deep in thought. Despite him not saying anything, you could practically hear the screws twisting and turning in his head, a tell tale sign that he was overthinking. Not wanting to startle him, you nudged him lightly to get his attention,

“What’s wrong, Az? And don’t say nothing,”

He simply turned to you with his sad gaze. The two of you were now laying on your sides, facing each other. You brought your hand to his cheek to comfort him and were relieved when he leaned into the touch. He simply stared at you, as if trying to peer into your soul. Although he didn’t have to try too hard if he ever wanted to. The mating bond the two of you shared was an ever-growing bridge of light between your very beings. After a moment of silence he spoke up,

“I’m scared, my love.”

“I’m scared too darling but I know we can do this together. We..”

“No, you don’t get it. I have no doubts that you’ll be an amazing mother. You’re brave and kind and intelligent… you’re amazing. I… I’m worried I won’t be a good father,” Azriel stated simply. And it was his resigned tone that worried you. As if he truly believed he would be a bad father.

“Why would you ever think something like that?”

“Well it’s not completely unthinkable now is it?” he put forward dejectedly. “I mean you know how my father was. No matter how much I try to deny it, I am his son aren’t I? Who’s to say I won’t turn out like him?”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. It seemed unthinkable yet inevitable that Azriel’s mind would wander down that road of self loathing and doubt. In an instant you removed yourself from his embrace and sat up. Turning to him and taking his hands in yours you said,

“Azriel, listen to me. You are nothing like that man. You never have been and never will be. You’re so kind and brave.”

“But what if I am? You know me, you know the things I’ve done, the things I’ve been seen. What if after everything that I have been through, something has broken inside me? What if I become like him.” Azriel laid out all his worries and fears, and each one ripped your soul to shreds. It pained you to see the man you loved, who you thought to be the Mother’s blessing to you, think of himself as such.

“You’re right Az. I do know you. And it is because I know you that I am saying that you are nothing like that monster. Someone like your father wouldn’t love and care for me as you do, wouldn’t be so devoted and loyal to his family like you. You’re perfect as you are my darling. You are not broken. I can say this without a shadow of a doubt because I know your soul, Azriel. It’s bright and warm and loving, just like you. It may have a few cracks but so does mine and so does everyone else’s. But you know why I’m not afraid of that? Because I know you will be there to hold me together if I ever fall apart, just like I would for you, darling.”

Tears made their way down Az’s face. Adoration and gratitude shining in his eyes. You had been aware of Azriel’s self depreciating tendencies even before the mating bond clicked for the either of you. Even then, when the two of you were nothing more than close friends, you had vowed to yourself that you would help Azriel overcome this pointless hatred and see just how brilliant he was.

“I love you, you know that? I love you, Always and Forever,” Azriel whispered between tears. Your heart swelled as Azriel repeated your mating vow. One that has always been special out of all the others.

“Always and Forever,” you mirrored back against his lips as he pulled you in for another kiss. And just like that Azriel spent the entire night reminding you just how much he loved you, the mating bond between your very souls glowing like a bridge of pure light.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Now when all is said and done, you wished you had listened to Azriel. You wish you had not been so damn stubborn for just once in your life and had stayed home. But no. You just had to be thick headed and difficult. It had been almost a week since the two of you found out about the pregnancy and no one else knew yet, your shields had ensured that. Azriel had been by your side for every second of the day and it had been all the more endearing, seeing him so flustered and concerned. Concerned, but happy. He had also been indirectly putting off any missions outside of Velaris. Between your break from training and his from his work, it had become a running gag between the two of you. At night you would retreat to your home and laugh about how long it would take for your family to figure it out.

You had insisted to go out to Velaris with Nesta. The two of you had been wanting to visit a new bookstore that had just opened in the Rainbow. Rumour has it, it held some of the steamiest romance novels in the city, which had pulled the two of you in like moths to a flame. What you hadn’t been aware was that fire pulled in other things as well. Things one would do anything to avoid.

Having purchased nearly half the store, the two of you were well worn out. Well that and you remembered that you had promised Azriel you would stop if you felt yourself beginning to tire, which is why the two of you stopped at a cafe to have lunch. If Azriel had so much of a speckle of doubt that you were over straining yourself, that fussy mother hen wouldn’t let you go anywhere alone for the next nine months. Perhaps you should have shared his sentiments. Perhaps it was you taking this utter blessing for granted that had led to this.

It all happened so fast that you don’t even recall what exactly did happen. Nesta had gone to order the two of you some ice cream and brownies from the cafe while you sat at the table outside with your books, giving your sore feet some well desired rest. However the heat started getting to your head and the though of the absolutely exquisite, freezing chocolate ice cream felt as relieving as an oasis in a desert. Riddled with impatience, you threw your bag in a corner and stood to follow the brunette into the cafe.

You had taken merely a couple steps from your table when a pair of arms wrapped around you. Your body froze at the intrusion and before you could scream, the instigator clasped their hand over your mouth, rendering you speechless. Thrashing against them proved pointless, not that you wanted it to escalate to a physical fight. Though you would have had no qualms about teaching this bastard a lesson, you knew things were now different. You could not risk your baby no matter what. As a second resort you tried to call on your powers but an ice cold rush of fear went through your body when nothing came. Nothing. You could feel nothing. Not an ounce of that soaring spark you always felt as your power flew to the surface.

Fear became a tangible, living force that crept over you like some hungry beast, immobilizing you; your brain, holding you captive. You were paralysed as you realised you couldn’t escape. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not when you and your mate had just gotten this good news.

As a pathetic last resort, you thrashed against the person holding you once again, a cry of panic made its way out but was muffled once again. All of a sudden a piece of cloth was put to your face. Disgusted by the utter stench of it, you tried to recoil but were only pushed further into it. Whatever it was, it was working. In the end you had been right. It really was too dangerous for you and Azriel to have a baby. The two of you had too many enemies, though some distant part of your mind wondered which one you were faced with now, and how they had found out. Your muscles started numbing and your vision darkened.

And everything went black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:@mooncleaver@cheshmetkoshgele@elegantranchcowboytree@bibliophilelife124

A man of actions

Summary: Azriel has never been good with words. He sets out to show his care and affection in the only ways he knows. Gwyn and Azriel’s love language is Acts of Service. Inspired by the beautiful work of @headcanonheadcase and the idea by @yazthebookish

Read on AO3

“I think and feel you, every moment in every action, always you are there.”

It became a game of sorts between them. A game of making the day easier for each other in small subtle ways. They were friends who cared deeply about each other. Friends who had gone through unimaginable horrors. Friends who were too afraid of their feelings and too scared to speak their hearts. So, they understood, that sometimes actions spoke louder than words.

One bright morning, Azriel prepared his coffee and heard Gwyn’s approaching footsteps. He poured her a cup and handed it to her as she walked into the room. Azriel loved the way her eyes lit up. Her groan of pleasure was deeply fascinating to him. He felt all the smugness of satisfaction when she proclaimed that it was “the best cup of coffee.” The next morning, he poured two cups again. Then, the next day, the day after that, and every day until it became instinct. His two hands reached for two cups to start the day together.

Azriel fueled her mornings but it was Gwyn who warmed his nights. He was sitting in his office late at night. No chance of sleep, so he busied himself with reports spread all around him. Gwyn gently knocked on his door. The shadows had long ceased to warn him of her presence. She stepped in with two steaming mugs.

“I can’t sleep either. I made you some tea,” she smiled handing him the mug. Their hands lingered. Fingers warm and soft against the smooth surface of the mug. She did this night after night. She brought peppermint on cold stressful nights. Lemon balm with honey to sweeten their debates and rants. Chamomile when they desperately needed sleep. Sometimes they would read. Many nights they would laugh. On warm nights, they sat in silence watching the stars shine bright.

-

It was small and subtle things she always did. No one else noticed. That was Azriel’s job, to watch and see. Really, he was always paying attention to her. Gwyn filled the water stations, tidied up weapons, and he knew she was the one that swept the floor once a week. She asked him how to properly sharpen a blade. Gwyn was curious, intent, and absorbed his instructions like a sponge. Then, Azriel came to the training court the next morning to find all their weapons gleaming and sharpened to points. He was in awe of her. No one asked her to do any of it. It was just who she was.

Azriel was not a messy male. Despite their centuries of age and military discipline, his family was full of slobs. Azriel learned to embrace his role as Mother Hen. Living in the House of Wind was no different. It seemed he was always picking up Nesta’s book or Cassian’s weapons. He was particularly tired of finding Cassian’s socks and Nesta’s undergarments everywhere but their bedroom. He grumbled his annoyance to Gwyn as he washed a dirty plate.

Gwyn laughed at him, it was a sound that could only be described as sweet and bright. “They would never survive without you. None of us would.”

Then, the most curious thing happened the following week. Azriel found fewer weapons and not a single pair of underpants.

Nesta and Azriel sat in the living room. She was engrossed in a naughty romance novel. She excused herself to get ready for dinner. Not a minute later and she was back. Nesta began to pick up the stack of books on the table. “Gwyn’s gonna kill me if I don’t put these back.” Nesta sighed as she made her way out.

-

There were certain actions he took that were necessary. Vital. He would drop everything. Nothing else mattered.

Gwyn returned from a Valkyrie mission in Illyria bruised and flinching her arm in pain. Azriel’s chest filled with an unbelievable amount of anguish and rage. “We need to get you a healer, Berdara,” he said in a tone that was all business. He tried hard to mask the panic and concern in his voice.

“You should see the other guy,” she responded in that lighthearted way of hers. Deflecting was a skill mastered by Gwyneth Berdara. He gave her a look. She hated that look. Gwyn frowned. “Shadowsinger, I’m fine. It’ll heal on its own,” she protested. Gwyn could be unbelievably stubborn. Foolish and brave. Sometimes, Azriel just knew better. It was infuriating how little she cared for her own well-being. How easily she dismissed her own pain. Azriel could not stand it.

He crossed his arms and stepped closer to her. Azriel was unfazed. He could be stubborn, too. “Gwyneth, we need to get you to a healer.” He never used her full name.

They rarely got into serious fights. This was important. This was worth fighting her on. She continued to protest. He continued to push back until she stormed out of the room in quiet fury. Azriel ran a frustrated hand through his hair. His emotions roiled in waves of rage, panic, and concern. He took several deep, calming breaths — a technique he adopted courtesy of Gwyn’s Valkryie training.

Azriel’s rational mind and instincts kicked in. He opened his mind and called out for Rhys. “Please, get Madja and find Gwyn. I need to take care of something.”

Azriel disappeared in a cloud of smoke and shadow. Azriel found him easily. He knew every detail of the Valkyrie’s mission in Illyria. Icy rage coursed through his veins as he pressed Truthteller to the Illyrian’s throat. A brief smirk of pride tugged Azriel’s lips as he saw what Gwyn had done to the male. That pride was quickly taken over by pure rage. Gwyn had been merciful and left this brute with his life. Azriel was not so kind.

-

Gwyn didn’t come for coffee the next morning. That left him in a sulking and sad mood all morning. Even his shadows were upset. They were reduced to drooping wisps. They briefly spotted each other on opposite ends of the hallway. Her arm was bandaged and her bruises looked significantly better. Azriel was grateful for Madja. He wanted to go to Gwyn. Talk to her. Be next to her. Anything. But he didn’t have time. He was leaving for a scouting mission that would take most of the day and well into the night. He gathered his weapons and made his way to the balcony to fly out.

“Shadowsinger, wait!!” Gwyn called out. He spun around as she came forward with a satchel in hand. She pressed it into his arms. Wordlessly, he opened it to find an assortment of cheese, bread, apples, jerky, and a cookie.

“Eat it all.” She grinned at him. “Please, be safe.”

-

They fell into an easy rhythm with each other. They continued their morning ritual and nightly tradition. They had even taken to working together. Gwyn would organize the new intel and help create detailed reports. He helped edit and proofread her work for Merrill and the Valkyries. Gwyn was wordy and loved run-on sentences. Azriel used words sparingly and lacked clarity.

“Az, this scouting report literally just says ‘Not good.’” He looked at her as if not understanding what the problem was. She rolled her eyes. “Can you elaborate?”

“The location near the Autumn Court border offered no vantage point, it was exposed on the west, and there was insufficient cover from trees. It was simply ‘not good.’”

Gwyn laughed as she shook her head. “You’re better than this.”

He pushed his hand through his hair, pressing it on his forehead. ”My mind was elsewhere on that day.”

It was thinking of Gwyn. It was always thinking of her.

The day felt unsettlingly quiet. Funny, he thought. He had always been fond of silence. Azriel had never been good with words. Not like Gwyn, who always had something to say and could make him laugh so easily with her words. Azriel had hit a lull in his duties and was forced to take a day to himself. He hated having nothing to do. This type of idleness was no good. This kind of quiet felt different. It made him restless. His mind raced. To make matters worse, his favorite distraction was off visiting Emerie with Nesta. No, he needed to stay busy. He needed to occupy his hands. He took a walk through the house and stopped at Gwyn’s room.

The House of Wind had recently celebrated the anniversary of the Valkryie’s completing the Blood Rite. This meant that there was an obscene amount of romance novels scattered throughout her room and the House. Rhys had gifted Gwyn enough books on history, politics and astronomy to fill a small library. Even Azriel had contributed to the piles on Gwyn’s floor. He had spent a small fortune on beautiful first editions of all her favorites. Money was nothing compared to the smile on Gwyn’s face. As he stared at the piles of books, the idea struck him.

He examined his piece of paper with the crude sketch and measurements. The hot sun beat down on his back. He stripped off his shirt. His face contorted in concentration as he worked the sharp edges of the saw down the pieces of wood. He wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hands. Then, he moved on to hammering.

”Az, what is all that noise? What in the world are you doing?” asked Cassian as he emerged onto the terrace.

Azriel had the end of a nail in his mouth. He merely grunted and gestured at the materials in front of him.

“Are you building something?” Cassian asked with bewildered amusement. Clearly, his brother was here to annoy him.

Azriel ignored him and continued to hammer away.

Cassian grabbed the paper with the sketch. He examined it closely. With total smugness, he said, ”And who is this bookcase for?”

Azriel looked up at his brother. Cassian was smirking and had one eyebrow raised. Cassian knew perfectly well who the bookcase was for. Azriel continued to ignore him and drowned out his chuckle with loud hammering.

“Gwyn’s going to love it,” he said. He stepped closer and rested a hand on Azriel’s back. In a soft and sincere voice, he said, “I like this side of you, Az. She makes you happy.”

It took Azriel the whole afternoon to finish. He patted the side of the finished bookcase and admired his handiwork. Cassian proved to be useful. He helped Azriel move the massive bookcase into Gwyn’s bedroom. Then, it was just a matter of organizing her books. His excitement built as he placed each book on the shelves.

-

“You built me a bookcase?” she said in total awe.

Azriel simply nodded. He gave her a lopsided grin.

“You built me a bookcase? With your bare hands?” Her eyes were searching his own and full of wonder.

“You know I’m not very good with words. But I do know how to use these.” He lifted his scarred palms up.

Gwyn reached for his hands and held them enclosed in her own. He went completely still. She lifted them up to her lips and pressed a soft tender kiss to each one. Her smile wrapped his heart in warmth and light. She was looking at him with pure adoration. He didn’t say anything as he wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. No words were necessary to understand what they felt for each other.