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 rosalynnart on DeviantArt

Summary: As a member of the Inner Circle, Rhys has requested you accompany them for their routine visit to the Court of Nightmares. You’re terrified - enter protective Azriel.

Warnings: crappy parents, brief mentions of violence

Word Count: 5,000

A/N: I love Azriel, that’s all. Requests are still open, and my request guidelines are linked on my masterlist. I hope you enjoy, please consider liking/following and all those things! :)

You hated the Court of Nightmares.

It was the place you’d been born and raised, tormented by your greedy parents and their fake friends. It hadn’t taken long for you to become disillusioned and disgusted by life in the Hewn City; you hated the way everyone was watched and judged, the way any and all relationships could be sabotaged in a matter of seconds all for a little bit of power.

You ran away when you turned 18, right as the War began. Everyone important (including your parents) was preoccupied with funding and logistics, and so no one chased after you. You weren’t surprised, you hadn’t expected them to send a cavalry after you. Of course you were a little hurt by their lack of interest in you, but it only reminded you why you were leaving in the first place.

You walked for days with hardly any food or water, until you were so exhausted you thought you might collapse in the woods and die. So be it, you had thought, I’d prefer death to living in that Cauldron-forsaken city, anyways. 

It was pure luck that you stumbled upon a camp of Night Court soldiers, all of whom were shocked by the appearance of your starving, disheveled self. None of them had jumped to help you, save for one Illyrian soldier with long hair and bright red siphons. He’d caught you as you all but collapsed onto him, carrying you to the healers’ tent and then to his own, where he fed you a really disgusting, genuinely awful stew.

“At least it’s warm,” he said with a shrug, handing you a bowl of steaming grayish slop.

You frowned, prodding a particularly chunky bit with your spoon. “What’s this supposed to be?” you asked, pointing to one of the lumps.

“Rabbit? Maybe deer?” he tried. “I have no idea, I’ve stopped asking.” You sighed, shaking your head as you brought the spoon to your mouth.

And that was how you met Cassian. Though it took all your effort not to throw up whatever it was he’d given you, you were still grateful for the meal, learning a little while later he’d given you his only dinner ration for that night. You were being honest when you told him that was the kindest thing anyone had ever done for you.

Cassian convinced his commander to let you stay with the legion. You were more than happy to help the healers tend to the many wounded, often collecting herbs for them since they had very little time to do so.

After a few months you began to befriend the seemingly brute soldiers, all of whom were actually quite funny and caring in their own way. You had assumed wrongly that they were only fighting out of obligation to the Night Court - on the contrary, many of them genuinely cared about freeing the humans, and were willing to fight and die for such a cause.

You began helping them advocate for themselves, acting as a messenger between them and their superiors whenever they needed anything. They’d been moved when you convinced the commander to get them waterproof bedding. You were just happy to help your new friends.

As the war progressed your legion became quite well known for its strength and enthusiasm in battle. Eventually, they caught the attention of the High Lord, who was eager to know how your commander kept them all so motivated. Your commander never told you that in his response, he attributed the soldiers’ high morale to you.

You didn’t find out about it until the High Lord himself summoned you to his encampment, wanting to meet you for himself.

“Y/N, is it?” he asked. You gulped and nodded, hating the way all the High Lord’s advisors were just staring at you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, walking over to you and clasping your hand. “You’ve made quite a name for yourself.”

“Oh, not really,” you replied dismissively.

“On the contrary, your commander attributed most of your legion’s success to you,” the High Lord said. Your eyes widened.

“He did?” you asked meekly.

“Yes, he did.” The High Lord led you over to the large table in the middle of the tent, covered in various maps and reports. You quickly recognized the different markings noting the enemy’s various armies in relation to your own.

“Their reinforcements are closer than I thought they were,” you said, pointing to an enemy group only half a day’s travel away from the front lines.

“Straight to the point, eh?” he chucked. You shrugged.

“Their proximity is worrying since our own reinforcements are two days away,” he continued. “I’m hoping my son will be able to urge them faster.”

“Your son?” you inquired. The High Lord nodded.

“My son Rhysand is the commander of this legion,” he said, pointing to one of the markers on the map. “He does a good job, though his troops are not as eager to fight as yours are.”

“Our soldiers want to see the humans freed,” you said. “Many of them have told me they would willingly die to win this war. I believe that has helped them stay strong when the fighting gets rough.”

“Very admirable of them,” the High Lord said thoughtfully. “I wish all our troops thought similarly.”

You nodded, still looking down at the table. “This map is very impressive, sir.”

“Thank you,” he replied. “It’s the most accurate information we have.”

“How often do you update it?” you asked, looking up at him.

“We track the enemy’s movements down to the hour. Every shift, every change is reflected here.”

“Down to the hour?” you exclaimed, eyes wide. “How do you accomplish such a thing?”

“You’d have to ask him,” the High Lord replied, gesturing behind you.

You turned around, eyes landing on an Illyrian man clad in black leather. His hair was shorter than Cassian’s, wielding blue siphons instead of red. The biggest difference between the two, however, were the dark shadows that circled around him slowly. Your cheeks flushed as his gaze met yours, hazel eyes piercing. You smiled and gave him a small wave, but his face remained the same.

“That’s Azriel, the official shadowsinger of the Night Court,” explained the High Lord. You nodded slowly, turning back towards the table.

“Go introduce yourself, if you’d like,” he added. “He’s quiet, but perhaps he’ll enjoy some conversation.”

“Yes sir,” you said with a nod, looking again at the shadowsinger and walking in his direction, pushing through the swarm of advisors and generals.

“Hello,” you said softly as you stopped in front of him, craning your neck upwards a bit to meet his eyes. “I’m Y/N.” His eyes widened as he looked down at you.

You bit your lip nervously and offered him your hand, though he kept his clasped firmly behind his back. You dropped your arm awkwardly, grabbing at the bottom of your shirt.

“I’m from the western legion,” you added, trying to make conversation. His eyes softened somewhat at that.

“Do you know a Cassian?” he asked quietly, voice deep and rumbling.
“Yes!” you replied brightly, trying to ignore the way your stomach had flip-flopped when he spoke. “He was the one who rescued me, actually, and convinced our commander to let me stay. He’s a close friend of mine.”

“Rescue?” he inquired. You nodded, not really wanting to elaborate.

“Well, any friend of Cassian’s a friend of mine,” he said, giving you a small smile. “I’m Azriel.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Azriel,” you said with a grin.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Y/N.”

You met Rhysand a little while after as he’d been giving a report to his father. When you returned to your legion and asked Cassian about both of them, he told you the story of how they’d met and became friends. You were shocked by all the horrors they’d endured, and a little mad at the High Lord for separating them.

“We probably could’ve won this war months ago if he let you all fight together,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Damn right, Y/N,” Cassian replied.

When the war ended, you were there to watch their reunion. You’d become a little emotional at the sight of them together, all smiling brighter than you’d ever seen before (even Azriel). You had tried to hide your teary eyes from them, only to start bawling when they grabbed you and pulled you into the group hug.

Rhysand had left soon after for the Court of Nightmares with his father. You’d urged Cassian and Azriel to go with him, insisting they needed some time to catch up with each other. You had opted to stay with the soldiers, helping them sort through their belongings and figure out where to go next. Like you, not all of them wanted to return to where they were from. You’d ended up in a small Illyrian camp with several of the soldiers from your legion, where you helped them settle in and begin navigating the ins and outs of running what was essentially a small town.

The next time you saw Rhysand, he was High Lord.

With his father dead, Rhysand was appointing a new Inner Circle with different values and morals than the one before it. He had asked you to be his advisor for social affairs, and you’d very emotionally accepted (“Do you cry at everything?” he teased, wrapping you in a hug as you nodded dramatically).

You were thrilled to learn Cassian and Azriel were also a part of the Inner Circle, as well as Rhysand’s cousin Morrigan and friend Amren. You were thrilled to have female friends for the first time in your entire life.

You also loved your job. As social advisor, you helped the various camps and smaller settlements throughout the court communicate with the High Lord, negotiating financial agreements and the like. It also meant you got to visit all your old friends, many of whom were starting families and working to change social standards in their towns.

The only part you did not like were the mandatory visits to the Hewn City once every few months, just to make sure everything there was running smoothly. For the many years you’d been working for Rhysand you’d managed to get out of every single visit, claiming you had scheduled trips to check up on camps and emergency meetings with different war-lords.

You had, however, run out of excuses.

“Y/N, I cannot allow you to miss another one of these trips,” Rhysand said sternly over breakfast. You glared pointedly at the plate of eggs in front of you, refusing to make eye contact with Rhys. Azriel and Cassian were sitting silently at the table, watching the two of you argue.

“Don’t you think,” you seethed, “that after years of trying to avoid this, I might have some reason not to go?”

“All of us have reasons not to go,” Rhysand said plainly. “No one enjoys these visits, but they’re mandatory. And you’re the only member of the Inner Circle who’s never visited. People have started talking.”

“Let them talk,” you scoffed, stuffing a forkful of eggs in your mouth.
“I don’t want to let them talk,” Rhys countered. “I don’t like them calling members of my Inner Circle weak, or negligent, or cowardly.”

“Well, I don’t care what they think of me,” you dismissed with a wave of your hand. “Amren hasn’t gone on the last few trips, either. I hope you’re planning on having this conversation with her as well.”

“First of all, I’d be a damn fool to try and tell Amren what to do,” Rhys stated, Cassian and Azriel nodding in agreement. “Second, she’s been to the Court of Nightmares before. Like I said, you’re the only one who hasn’t gone.”

You sat in silence, staring blankly in front of you. Rhys sighed.

“Y/N, I’m going to have to remove you from the Inner Circle if you don’t make this next trip,” he said finally. Your head snapped up, staring at him with wide eyes.

“You wouldn’t,” you hissed.

“Rhys,” Azriel warned softly, glancing between the two of you.

“I won’t have anyone thinking my Inner Circle is weak,” Rhys said, throwing his hands up. “I don’t want to remove you, but don’t think I won’t do it.”

You sat back in your chair in defeat, thoughts of your childhood and parents racing through your mind. Your breaths became faster, the three Illyrians at the table looked at you in concern.

“Y/N-” Cassian started, but you stood up abruptly, hoping they wouldn’t notice the tears forming in your eyes.
“Fine,” you choked. “Fuck you, Rhys.” You stormed out of the room, racing up the stairs, leaving the three of them staring after you in alarmed confusion.

You didn’t talk to anyone until the day of the trip, when you met them downstairs to leave. You were wearing a tight black dress that draped down to the floor, hair and makeup done nicely. You would be able to fit in without calling too much attention to yourself.

“Hi,” Rhysand started hopefully, but you just stared at the ground in front of you, refusing to acknowledge him. He sighed.

“I’m sure you know already, but you’ll have to play the part when we get there. Acting all cunning and ruthless, bowing to me, those sorts of things.”

“I’ll behave,” you replied numbly. Azriel moved next to you, grabbing your hand as you prepared to winnow. You didn’t miss the slight rub of his thumb against the back of your hand, the slight squeeze as you closed your eyes.

When you opened them, you were standing in a dimly lit room, stone walls covered in black banners, no windows to be seen. You breathed heavily, hoping Azriel hadn’t noticed how much your hands were shaking.

“Mor will send for us when the Court’s assembled in the throne area,” Rhysand said, taking a seat in a large plush chair.

“Y/N are you alright?” Cassian asked, concern evident in his voice. You hadn’t once looked up from your feet.

You shook your head, no you were not alright. In fact, you were far from alright, seeing as you were back in the one place you’d never wanted to return to.

You stiffened as Azriel wrapped his arm behind you, rubbing your shoulder comfortingly. You relaxed immediately, leaning into his side.

The room remained silent for a few minutes, Azriel trying his best to comfort you. You were almost sad when he pulled away as Mor walked into the room. You could’ve stayed nestled against him for hours.

“They’re ready for us,” Mor started. “Y/N, your parents are waiting outside. They want to talk to you.”

You felt Azriel tense up next to you as Rhys and Cass looked at you with wide eyes. You felt like breaking something, rage quickly replacing your fear. How dare they want to speak with you, after letting you walk out of their lives into a war?

“I’m going to wring their necks,” you muttered, stalking past Mor with Azriel following closely behind you. You didn’t need her to lead you to the throne room, you knew well enough where everything was in this damned city yourself.

You kept your eyes focused in front of you as you walked through the doorway, shoulders pushed back, features neutral. You ignored the figures waiting by the wall, ignored the calls of your name.

“You filthy runaway!” you heard your mother shriek from behind you. You ground your teeth, refusing to acknowledge her. Azriel caught up to you within a few strides, moving beside you as you continued forward.

“I didn’t know you had family here,” he said, eyes fixed forward just as yours were. Everything was a careful performance here.

“I was born here,” you said coldly. Azriel was silent next to you.

“I had no idea,” he replied finally.

“I never told anyone.”. The entrance to the throne room was now in sight. You could sense Cassian coming up behind you, moving to flank your other side.

“I’m sorry,” Azriel added. He glanced at you, grabbing your hand and squeezing it before dropping it quickly. “I would’ve argued with Rhys about you coming if I had known.”

“I know you would’ve,” you said, watching him adopt the emotionless soldier persona once again. “Thank you.”

The three of you entered the throne room together, walking in sync past the crowds of Hewn City residents to the opposite wall. They fell silent as you approached. It almost made you smile, them at least pretending to respect you for the first time ever. You almost hoped someone would dare to say something out of line, just to see what Rhys and Cassian and Azriel might do. At the same time, you wanted to curl up into a ball in your bed and never see anyone again. Your confidence, as convincing as it was, was still an act.

You stood between them, waiting for Rhys to enter. You watched Mor saunter past her parents, giving them a taunting smirk. Maybe one day you’d be able to do the same.

You straightened as Rhys walked in behind her, purple eyes gleaming despite the terrible lighting of Hewn City.

“Your High Lord, ladies and gentlemen,” Mor announced, dropping to one knee as he sauntered into the room. You did the same, admiring the way Rhys emanated power and control. A quick glance to your left and you made brief eye contact with Azriel, whose muscular thighs were only accentuated by his kneeling. Your eyes widened, gulping as you looked back towards Rhys.

“My subjects,” he drawled with a grin, making his way up to the throne and sitting down casually. He scanned the room for a moment, then nodded. “Rise.”

You stood up slowly, watching Mor’s father step forward to deliver his report on city happenings. You weren’t really paying attention, choosing instead to let your gaze wander over to Azriel again. He was wearing all of his siphons, wings folded behind his back neatly. He looked somewhat relaxed, though his hands were positioned to draw his weapons if needed.

You loved Az’s hands, the hands he had tried to hide from you for months. When you finally asked him why he hid his scars, he’d reluctantly told you about his childhood. He’d been surprised when your reaction was not one of pity, but rather one of immense anger. How dare anyone do that to him? Azriel, who was so selfless and giving, did not deserve such pain.

“You’re staring,” Az muttered, a small smirk on his face.

“Am not,” you replied with a glare, fixing your eyes in front of you as your face heated up.

“Are too,” he teased. You rolled your eyes, hoping he didn’t notice the blush tinging your cheeks.

Kier was just finishing up his dull speech. Rhys looked beyond bored, though you knew it was all just a front. He would probably spend hours reviewing whatever information Kier had told him when you returned home.

“My Lord,” Mor’s father drawled. “I noticed the sixth member of your Inner Circle has joined you today.”

You stiffened as the whole room glanced in your direction.

“Y/N?” Rhys said, gesturing to you. You took a step forward and bowed, quickly returning to your place between Az and Cass.

“Welcome home, Y/N,” Kier said, a twisted grin on his face. “We missed you.”

“I’m sure,” you replied cooly, voice echoing off the stone walls. You picked out your parents rather quickly in the crowd, almost shuddering at the way they were glaring at you. You raised your eyebrows, taunting them to say something. They remained silent.

“If there is nothing more to discuss, I’ll be going now,” Rhys announced, pushing himself up from his seat and making his way towards the door. “Thank you for this, truly. You’re all dismissed.”

You waited until him and Mor had left to follow, making your way through the crowd with Azriel and Cassian on your heels. You failed to see your mother stalking towards you as you approached the doorway, failed to see her until she was right beside you. She grabbed your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks and turning you to face her forcefully.

Your heart skidded to a stop, face palling at the furious look on her face.

“You ungrateful child,” she hissed, nails digging into the skin on your shoulder.

“Let go of me,” you whispered. “Let go.” The whole room had stopped to watch the two of you.

“Howdareyou align yourself with him,” she screeched. You pulled away from her, heart pounding as she continued moving towards you.

“You’re pathetic,” you spat defensively, wanting nothing more than to push her away from you. She only cackled, eyes blazing as she lunged at you.

You gritted your teeth, bracing yourself for impact, but a leather-clad arm reached out from beside you before she could reach you.

Azriel, who you’d almost forgotten was with you, had grabbed your mother mid-air, pinning her to his side as she struggled in his grip.

He looked more furious than you’d ever seen him, a rarity for the shadowsinger who hid his emotions like secrets. His massive wings were unfurled, jaw clenched as he looked down at her like she was a criminal Rhys had asked him to torture. You almost smiled at how fearful she looked as she glanced up at him, powerless.

“If you touch her,” he said, his voice a deadly whisper, “I will gut you, and throw you off the mountain again and again until you stop screaming.”

Her face blanched, looking around nervously as she tried to get away. Azriel did not let her budge.

“Let me go,” she asked, voice shaking. “Please, let-”

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t break every bone in your body right here in front of everyone,” he said, voice calm despite the rage so clear on his face.

“Please,” she begged again. “Please.”

He looked back at you and you nodded, watching as he threw her to the ground in front of you. She let out a shaky breath, carefully drawing herself up from the floor…

She was not expecting your punch, eyes widening as your fist connected with the side of your face. Neither was Azriel, if his look of pleasant shock was anything to go by. You admired the way her body crumpled back onto the ground, grinned openly at the frightened look she gave you.

“I hope you die a painful death,” you said, almost cheerily. You turned, seeking out your father in the crowd and pointing to him. “You too,” you shouted, watching as he paled.

You turned on your heel and stalked out of the room, giving Mor a thumbs up as you passed her in the doorway. She gave you a small smile and an approving nod.

You waited until Rhys winnowed you all back to Velaris to let yourself relax, your shoulders slumping as you collapsed into a chair. You were exhausted.

“I’m fucking starving,” Cassian grumbled, lumbering out of the room just as quickly as you arrived. You smiled a bit, opening your eyes to see Rhys watching you intently.

“Y/N,” he started, but you raised a hand to silence him.

“I don’t want you to say anything,” you said flatly.

“I had no idea,” he continued anyway. “I would have let you stay…”

“What’s done is done,” you sighed. “Besides, if I hadn’t gone I never would’ve gotten to punch the shit out of my mom.” He chuckled and you gave him a sick grin.

“I can arrange to have Azriel torture them, if you’d like,” Rhys offered, the same option he’d given Mor when she’d returned to the Court of Nightmares. Azriel nodded earnestly, as if he’d be happy to do it.

“Thanks, but I’d like to do it myself, when the time is right,” you replied. The two of them nodded in understanding. Rhys gave you a small smile and disappeared from view, probably to join Cassian.

Azriel walked over towards you carefully, sitting down in a chair next to yours. He reached his hand out, slowly brushing a stray hair out of your face. You hummed and leaned into his touch, so soft and caring despite the scars.

“I wasn’t expecting you to punch her,” he said quietly. You chucked.

“I wasn’t either, but I’m glad I did,” you replied, opening your eyes and finding his hazel ones gazing at you fondly.

“You’re staring,” you teased lightly, quoting him. He smiled but didn’t look away. You blushed, biting your lip and looking down at your lap.

“Thank you for keeping her away from me,” you almost whispered. “I don’t know what I would’ve done had she actually, you know…” You trailed off, remembering the fear you had felt when she grabbed at you. “It was like I was frozen, I couldn’t move.”

“I think I would’ve actually killed her if she had gotten to you,” he said. You glanced up at him, his face carefully neutral as he thought about his words. “I was just…so mad at her, for calling you filthy and ungrateful, for insulting you in front of everyone.” He met your gaze and his face softened.

“Az,” you said gently, reaching out and gently taking his hands in your own.

“I’m sorry if it was out of line-”

“No,” you interrupted, “no, thank you for doing it. It gave me enough time to remember how little I care about her opinion of me.”

“She still shouldn’t call you such things,” he said, jaw clenching. “You’re one of the bravest people I know, running away from home and joining an Illyrian war camp, of all places.” You laughed, giving his hands a small squeeze.

“That place wasn’t home,” you said with a shake of your head. “That’s why I ran away, I wanted to find a place where people actually cared about me.”

“Did you?” he asked softly, eyes darting nervously between your face and your hands, still intertwined with his.

“Yes,” you whispered, heart surging as he smiled at you.

“You don’t have to go back, ever,” he said, looking at you intently. “I won’t let him force you again. I promise.”

“Thank you, Az,” you said gratefully.

“And I swear,” he continued, “if either of your parents steps one toe out of line I’ll make them regret every minute of their lives.” You grinned.

“Well, if that happens let me know,” you said, “I wouldn’t want to miss any of the fun.”

He laughed then, truly laughed, scooting his chair closer to yours.

“I won’t let anyone touch you,” he murmured, your heart almost stopping as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against yours.

“Az,” you breathed, stomach fluttering.

“Y/N,” he replied, voice husky with some emotion that made your head swirl.

“Az,” you giggled, sticking your tongue out, licking the tip of his nose.

His eyes widened, a smile spreading across his face. “Gross,” he joked, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. His eyes became serious, searching your face for any hesitation.

You leaned forward, closing your eyes as you pressed your lips against his. You could’ve sworn you felt his heart leap as he began to kiss you back, reaching around you to pull your body onto his lap. You couldn’t ignore the sparks of joy you felt as his hands roamed your back, nose pressed against your cheek as his lips molded against yours again and again.

You were the first one to pull away, needing air, heart melting as you opened your eyes and saw Azriel watching you with such obvious adoration. You admired the small smile on his face, the flush of his cheeks and his tousled hair, the quickened rising and falling of his chest…

And then something clicked, something deep inside you, and your eyes widened with immediate realization.

“It’s…it’s you,” you gasped, overcome with emotion. He gulped and nodded, looking at you hopefully.

“Yes,” he breathed. “Yes.” He paused, panting heavily. “Is that…okay?” he asked, looking more nervous than you’d ever seen him before.

“It’s perfect,” you choked out, grabbing his face and pulling him in again. He groaned, your stomach doing flip flops as his hands came up to cradle the back of your head. He tucked his thumbs under your ears, claiming your mouth as his own.

“How…how long have you known?” you asked between kisses, your hands exploring the firm expanse of his chest.

“Since the first day I met you,” he mumbled against your lips, breathing heavily as you pulled back again.

“You’ve known for that long?” you asked incredulously, eyes wide. He nodded, grinning like he was the happiest man alive. “And you still waited for me?” You were touched.

“I would’ve waited until the end of time for you,” he said, ducking his head down and nuzzling your neck with his nose. “Though, I will say, it took you forever to realize.”

You swatted his shoulder playfully, resting your chin on the top of his head and closing your eyes. “I’ll cook dinner tonight, okay?” you said softly. You felt his whole body tense.

“Are…are you sure?” he asked thickly, as if you still might reject the mating bond.

But how could you ever think of such a thing, when you were sitting in the lap of the most protecting and caring person you’d ever met?

“I’m positive,” you murmured, tilting his head upwards and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Well in that case, I’m quite fond of chicken,” he teased.

“You’ll get whatever I feel like making,” you huffed, relishing in the way his whole body vibrated as he laughed.

“And I will happily eat whatever that is,” he replied lovingly.

“Even toast?” you asked.

“Even toast,” he grinned, capturing your lips in another kiss.

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.

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