GUYS can someone explain how i can be in love with both Azriel x Gwen and Azriel x Elain ships. They both are so cute like i can’t pick and i know this is going to cause pain because someone is gonna be hurt
Azriel is sitting out on the back porch of the cottage style home that him and Elain moved into right after they got married three years ago. The backyard is currently filled with kids running around and chasing each other, well all but one child that is.
Next to Az on the porch is his four year old nephew, Emerson who’s the oldest of Cassian and Nesta’s children. He’s a lot like his mom and isn’t much for people or social events. So he just watches the three families gathered at Az’s house with his uncle.
It’s the last weekend of the summer before sending the kids back to preschool and kindergarten for Emerson. Elain had decided to host a cookout as a last little get to getter before all their lives got crazy again. Not that Elain’s business hasn’t been keeping her very busy.
When Elain finally opened her shop a few years ago she already had a waiting list of orders and the business has only grown since. Last year she opened a second location in another part of Velaris and now she’s working on another location in the capital of Winter, where Vivianne moved two years ago to be with her boyfriend recently turned husband.
Due to the growth Azriel decided to step back from Rhy’s law firm and focus on new goals that he started to grow passionate about alongside Elain. Now he runs a non-profit Rhys helped him build from the ground up and at the beginning of the year they finally were able to open up the office.
The charity focuses on helping victims of abuse whether it’s with a partner, parent, or even a stranger. Az even hosted the first event for the charity in the spring where they held an auction and donated the proceeds to several women’s shelters in Velaris. In October he’ll host a Halloween party filled with rides and haunted houses and games for all ages. Then in December he’ll partner with Rhys at the Starlight ball as well.
On top of all the success Elain and Az have both accomplished in their work lives there’s also been rewards in their personal lives. A few months after they got married Elain discovered she was pregnant with their daughter, Hope. Then six months ago they welcomed their second little girl, June.
Currently Hope is running around playing with Rhys and Feyre’s oldest, Hunter. The two were born three weeks apart, Hunter being the older one and since then they’ve been inseparable. As for June she’s currently playing with the other babies by their mother’s.
Feyre is pulling a car toy out of her daughter, Rose’s mouth while Nesta is yelling at her third child who takes after her father. Marley is currently two years old and in the middle of her first prank war of many with Cassian. Oliver, Nesta and Cassian’s youngest is laughing as he watches his troublesome sister.
Azriel chuckles as he watches the failed prank Marley attempts on Cassian who likes to call himself the King of Pranks. When he catches his daughter she shrieks and runs away only to have her father race after her. Those two are going to be trouble, Az thinks as he takes a sip of the mixed drink Feyre had made for all of them.
“Mom’s going to lose her voice again,” Emerson says, watching his little sister be caught by their dad. “She just got it back too.” Nesta had always been the one to yell when she gets mad and ever since Marley learned to crawl Nesta’s been losing her voice every few weeks.
“Yeah but it’ll only get worse if Oliver takes after those two,” Az responds. He can only imagine how much Nesta will start drinking if she ends up with two meddlesome kids, especially considering Cassian is trying to convince her to have another baby within the next year.
“That’s why Marley won’t be allowed to influence my brother,” Emerson says sternly. He’s definitely like his mom, Az thinks as he watches the young boy next to him. Emerson may act like his mother but he looks just like his father. He has the say dark hair, skin tone, and grin as Cassian the only difference is the eyes, those are grey like Nesta’s.
Rhys, who’s been manning the grill calls out that the burgers and hot dogs are done. The kids rush to their seats, even Emerson who has the same love for food as Cassian. Azriel walks over to his wife and takes June from her so she can run into the house and grab the side dishes.
There’s already potatoes and corn out on the table but Elain had made a salad and chopped up some fruit before everyone came over. Az puts June in her high chair they had set in between him and Elain’s seats. Strapping her in putting a bib around her neck Az shakes out a bag of cereal for her to snack on.
His wife comes back out and adds some fruit to June’s tray as well before sitting down and grabbing her own food. Bowls and trays of food get passed around the table as they all make their plates for themselves and their children.
Once everyone is settled the conversations start. There’s talk of the kids which is everyone’s favorite topic. Then there’s talk of work and some charity events Az hopes to do throughout the next year. They also talk about the little things that have taken place throughout their lives.
“Sometimes I wish we took a page out of Amren’s book and waited to have kids,” Nesta tells her husband as the conversation switches topics once again. Amren who is Nesta’s closest friend has spent the past year travelling the world with her fiance, Varian before getting married and settling down.
“If you went the Amren route you probably would never have kids,” Rhys comments knowing his former partner. When Amren got back together with Varian she decided to leave Rhys’s firm and work at a different one in Adriata.
“That’s very true and why would you want to miss out on this cuteness?” Cassian says as he bounces Oliver on his lap, their son having scarfed down his dinner. Oliver realizing that people are looking at him, smiles and babbles as he looks up at his mother.
Nesta smiles widely at her youngest. “Yeah I guess you’re right for once,” she tells her husband as she takes Oliver from him. Hugging her son close. Elain is smiling just like everyone around the table who all know what Nesta went through to get where she is now.
“So does that mean we can have another?” Cassian says hoping he’s finally broken through to his wife.
“Ask me when he’s one,” Nesta responds, rocking Oliver who’s starting to doze off.
“Deal,” Cassian says lovingly watching his wife and son. Az knows his friend is also thinking about what he did in a past life to deserve this.
“Anyone else want more kids?” Feyre asks curiously.
“Maybe in another couple of years,” Elain says looking over at Azriel.
“Sounds good to me,” he tells his wife with a smile. Back when they had first started talking about a family Azriel had told her he didn’t care how many kids they had as long as she wanted them.
“You want another baby darling?” Rhys asks his wife using her nickname.
“I don’t know,” Feyre says honestly. Rhys nods, smiling.
“Well whatever you decide I’ll support you all the way,” Rhys reaches down into Feyre’s lap for her hand bringing it to his mouth for a kiss. Feyre smiles.
“Even if she asks you to get a vasectomy?” Cassian asks with a shudder.
“Yes because I actually listen to my wife,” Rhys combats.
“Hey I listen to Nesta!” Cassian argues.
“Rarely,” Nesta mumbles, causing Cassian to huff in annoyance mostly because he knows it’s true.
Az laughs as he watches his friends, his family and appreciating that this is his life. It’s a life he never thought he would get to hold. Then a woman with the kindest soul moved into his building and made him crave a life like this one.
Looking over at the woman that changed everything for him, his love, his wife, his Elain Az can’t hold back his smile. It’s a smile she reads easily and returns knowing that he changed her life just as much as she did his.
“I love you,” Elain whispers to her husband, all the unsaid feelings and emotions wrapped in those three words and he’s hit with it all as he grasps and squeezes her hand.
“I love you,” Azriel whispers right back with the same impact as Elain’s own whispered words.
They both hang on to each other as the banter between their family continues until it starts to grow dark and the children grow restless along with the dimming light. Saying goodbye they watch as Nesta and Cassian drive back to their home as well as Feyre and Rhys.
Elain and Azriel walked back into the house, hand in hand with Hope running ahead and June knocked out on her father’s shoulder.
Laughing Elain follows her oldest into Hope’s room while Az puts June in her crib. With the girls in bed they head to their own bed together.
“I still can’t believe I get to do this every night forever,” Az whispers into the darkness as he pulls his wife into his arms. She rests a hand on his chest and smiles at her husband.
“We have to be up early,” Azriel tells her as she continues down his body.
“I don’t care,” Az chuckles before pulling his wife back up and flipping her onto her back.
“Well then I guess it’s about to be a long night,” he whispers in Elain’s ear, rocking his erection against her sensitive core. Elain moans into a searing kiss.
This is the dream, Azriel thinks as he kisses his wife and pours all the love he feels for her and all the love she’s given him into one beginning kiss.
Elain woke up the next morning to the smell of coffee and what could only be homemade waffles. Stretching herself out she threw herself out of bed and headed for the kitchen. The kitchen she now officially owned with Azriel.
After they had unpacked some last night once their friends and her sisters had left Az had gone down to turn in the papers he had previously signed. Technically he was supposed to sign them this morning but he hadn’t wanted to wait so he went down to their landlord after they moved all of Elain’s stuff into his place.
Heading down the hallway that leads to their now shared bedroom Elain finds Az holding a bowl of batter that he’s pouring into the griddle. Smiling at her boyfriend she leans against the wall, arms folded and relaxed. It’s hard to believe that just within a week their lives have taken a complete turn for the better.
There was a time when Elain believed she would never get to feel this happiness with her best friend let alone anyone else. Yet here she stands watching Azriel as he makes them breakfast and there’s no doubt in her mind that he’s as much hers as she is his.
“You just want to stare at me all morning?” Azriel askss, smirking at her as he closes the waffle maker and let’s it cook. “I mean I don’t blame I’m a very attractive view.”
“And a very cocky one as well it seems,” Elain responds with a smile that Az returns. Pushing off the wall she makes her way around the counter and to his side where he tucks her in under his arm.
“How was your first night in our apartment?” Azriel asks as he plays with a strand of her messy hair.
“Very restful,” Elain responds, her fingers trailing the band of his grey sweatpants.
“I see you’ve also found my side of the closet,” Az says as he tugs on the shirt Elain had pulled on in the middle of the night when she got up to use the bathroom. It’s one of her favorites he notices as well. Most of his closet is made up of dark and plain t-shirts but this is one of the few graphic shirts he owns. It’s also the one Elain had talked him into buying when they went to a music festival last summer with a few friends.
“Well it is our closet,” Elain smirks, looking up at him with her innocent little face.
“So does that mean I can wear your dresses?” Azriel asks, teasing her. Elain laughs, still smiling up at him. The look fills him with warmth and happiness, something he hasn’t felt since before his mom passed.
“If you really want to,” Elain says just before the timer dings. She moves to the other side of the island as Az takes the waffle out and sets it on a plate. He pushes the plate in front of her along with the syrup, a fork, and a glass of fruit punch because it’s the only type of juice she will drink.
With a smile Elain starts cutting up her waffle as Azriel pours more batter to make his own. Once it’s done he sits next to his girlfriend and they enjoy a peaceful breakfast together. Elain cleans up breakfast once the waffles are consumed and Az goes to get dressed.
They’re planning on having dinner with some friends tonight but until then they have the day to themselves. Azriel pulls up the website for the local drive-in theater to see what they might be showing this afternoon.
Turns out today is a flashback theater today where there’s a showing of Gone with the Wind, which Elain hates. Then there’s The Wizard of Oz which is a favorite of his, and lastly Dirty Dancing.
“Feel like going to the drive-in theater for a showing of The Wizard of Oz?” Azriel asks, taking a seat on a barstool and watching his girlfriend in the kitchen. He can’t get enough of calling her that even if it’s only in his head.
“That sounds like fun,” Elain says as she hangs the towel she used to dry her hands once again. “You grab snacks and drinks while I go get dressed.”
“Deal,” Azriel says. With a bright smile on her face Elain runs off into their bedroom while Az grabs a couple of bags for snacks and drinks. Starting with the cooler bag he grabs some water and a few of the lemonade flavored sparkling waters that he knows Elain loves. He also adds some fruit from the fridge and an energy drink or two for himself.
Zipping that bag up Azriel heads for the small pantry in the corner of the kitchen. He tends to keep the pantry fairly stocked with a variety of snacks considering how Cassian is always radding his food supply. There’s a few snack sized caramel corn popcorn bags which Az grabs because how could they go to a movie without popcorn.
There’s also sour gummy worms that he adds to the bag. It’s a big bag but Azriel always finds himself craving the candy in the middle of the night. Lastly, he adds a couple big bags of unopened chips from a party he had gone to a couple weeks ago.
“Got everything?” Elain asks, walking out of the bedroom in one of her many sundresses. This one is yellow and white in a plaid pattern, which is her second favorite right after floral. She’s pulling her hair back into a ponytail as she walks back into the kitchen.
“Yeah, ready?” Azriel asks, shouldering both the bags onto his shoulders. Elain smiles with a nod before heading to the small entrance hall where a pair of brown sandals wait for her to slip on her feet. Elain then grabs her purse off the hook Az had installed on the back of the front door.
Opening the door they head out and down to the parking garage where they decide to take Azriel’s truck, having more room for them to lay out the blankets and pillows they had grabbed from Elain’s car beforehand.
It’s quiet for a bit as Azriel drives. The theater is on the outskirts of the city in the more rural area of Velaris. It’s a place he knows Elain is very familiar with as she gets antsy when she’s in the city too long.
“So I’ve been thinking,” Elain says, breaking the silence. Az turns down the music he had put on so he can hear her better. “Since I know longer have to pay full rent and with the bonus I’m expecting soon it might be time to start my business.”
“Really?” Az asked, a little surprised. Elain had been saying that she wanted to wait another year before looking into renting out a space in downtown Velaris for her floral arrangements shop. “You don’t want to wait any longer?”
“Some events have taken place recently in my life that are causing me to rethink things,” Elain says, smiling over at him. He knows she’s talking about their recent relationship status. “I don’t want to wait any longer and I plan on starting small.”
“What do you mean?” Azriel asked. He’s smiling, feeling the joy and happiness along with her at finally being able to kickstart her dream.
“I’ll start as an assistant with a local floral shop in order to learn everything else I don’t already know,” Elain says. “The owner wants to help me so she’ll help create my website and even let me start independent orders as I learn.”
“That sounds amazing,” Azriel says, taking the exit ramp that’ll lead to the drive-in theater. “What about after that?”
“Well I’m thinking I’ll do this through the winter and look for my own space to rent and hopefully by spring I’ll be set up in said space and ready for the summer season,” Elain explains.
“Also known as wedding season,” Elain smiles at him, loving that he knows that little tidbit.
“It’ll be the perfect time to start,” she says.
“Well I can’t wait to watch you succeed.” They’re both smiling as Azriel pulls into the drive-in and pays for the movie. Pulling into the lot where the movie is set up he finds a space right in the center of the lot.
Elain sets up the bed of his truck with the pillows and blankets while he unpacks the snacks and drinks. Settling down together Az kisses the top of her head as he tucks her into his side.
The movie starts and Elain’s focus is on the black and white opening scene while Az watches her intently. A part of him still doesn’t believe that she is his and yet here they are finally in each other’s arms. And all he can think is that he can’t wait for more moments like this throughout the rest of his life.
I think a lot of people are poorly misunderstanding Rhys’ question to Az about deserving Elain here. It really bothers me that people started to freak out about Rhys and Az’s dynamic after (mis)reading this one conversation. There seems to be a couple of issues causing the confusion:
Interpreting the words
Context
The first half of all the confusion seems to be a problem of language. Sarah might’ve chosen a less ambiguous word here but, alas, here we are.
So.
Deserve: to have earned or to be given something because of the way you have behaved or the qualities you have. (Cambridge Dictionary)
Deserve: do something or have or show qualities worthy of (a reaction which rewards or punishes as appropriate). (Oxford Dictionary)
Obviously both these definitions are different and you can probably see where this is going.
In the same vein, two synonymous phrases to ‘deserve’ are ‘to be entitled to’and‘to be worthy of’. We see that the word can be used to describe either of those attitudes. For the latter, Rhys asking Az if he actually believes he’s worthy of Elain would be so, so bad - and also completely and ridiculously out of character. Rhys constantly talks about how much it hurts him to see Az (and Cassian) believe that he’s a worthless bastard and even expresses this to Feyre on multiple occasions. So for him to to turn around and imply that Az wasn’t worthy of Elain would be so uncharacteristic of Rhys’ personality. But Rhys asking Az if he thinks he’s entitled to Elain’s affection makes much more sense in this context - and also how we’d expect Rhys to respond to Az’s words just before this question: “What if the Cauldron was wrong?… The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it’s possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another.” To which Rhys responds: “You believe you deserve to be her mate?” The context of the conversation makes it obvious that Rhys is freaked out because it sounds like Az feels he’s entitled to the third sister because of some sort of Cauldron-math - not the possibility that Elain herself might choose Az. Azriel never even mentions considering Elain’s choice in this whole conversation, even if he might have thought about it privately. So it seems obvious where Rhys’ line of thought would go, what he would be concerned about. He was obviously making a point about how fucked up it would be if Az were to think he deserves Elain as if she were an object. Like one would deserve a trophy or prize. As if Elain’s affection is EXPECTED to be directed at Az by the Cauldron/fate because HE thinks so. That he is somehow entitled to Elain.
Bear in mind that Rhys is a male who’s obsessed with choice (because his own was taken away) and who himself didn’t ever allow himself to believe that he was entitled to his own mate’s love. There are plenty of men who believe themselves entitled to a woman for all sorts of reasons - so it’s not a stretch that Rhys would be disturbed to hear something that sounds similar to entitlement in Az’s words. Especially since it’s obvious that Az is in a dark place (not sleeping, sad eyes, standing in the doorway throughout Solstice celebrations) and Rhys has obviously noted this. People can try to justify all sorts of attitudes when they’re in such a dark place (See: Nesta).
All this context is important to this conversation, guys!
Remember when I said I should’ve turned the Headcanon Oh Baby into an actual fic…? Well, here we are! I decided to use @elriel-month as the opportunity to do so, as there may or may not be a part 2 coming out next week to wrap up the month celebration (can you believe we’re at the end already? ). Anyways, this has some small differences to the original HC, but follows it fairly closely. Hope you enjoy it. I truly adore this little family.
Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome.
Trigger warnings: tooth-rotting fluff
Word Count: 3,080
Azriel remembered the day Elain got pregnant was the day everything in his life changed. Their morning had started normal, waking with the dawn, making love in their bed. Twice—it was always multiple rounds with them—before rising out of bed to get ready for the day. He had left to tend to some stuff for Rhys and returned to find Elain hunched in the garden.
He landed on their terrace as she was walking towards the house. A breeze shifted her hair, sending her honey and jasmine scent floating over to him. Az inhaled it deeply, and went ramrod straight, staring at her.
“Azriel?” she called out to him, head cocked to the side. “Are you quite all right?”
Shadows swarmed out of him, flitting to her side, around her protectively. They sang the news in his ear, but he already knew. He could smell the beautiful, innocent, new scent that had delicately weaved with hers. His eyes flicked over her body, looking for any changes he knew were too soon to be seen, but sought out anyways. And then he was moving towards her, dropping to his knees before her as some sappy, pathetic sound came out of the Night Court’s deadly shadowsinger.
She seemed startled by his actions but gripped him tightly, offering him comfort for whatever was wrong just the same.
“Elain,” he choked out, tears welling in his eyes. “You’re pregnant.”
The Seer blinked down at him, hands settling on his shoulders. “I—what?”
His arms wrapped around her waist, fingers splaying across her lower back. “You’re pregnant, Elain. We’re going to have a baby.”
Silver lined her brown eyes, the golden strands reflecting the sun’s rays. “A baby?” she reiterated.
He nodded, rubbing his hands up and down her hips. “A baby.”
They had talked about kids but never made any official plans about actively trying to have any. The Mother, it seemed, continued to gift her favorite Archeron.
Elain threaded her fingers through his hair. “Oh, Az,” she cried, falling to her knees with him. “You’ve made me so happy.” She kissed him, tugging him down on top of her right there on the grassy pathway of her garden.
Fingers laced and the sun high in the sky, Azriel made love to his beautiful, pregnant wife in the middle of her garden.
The next month when Elain returned to Illyria with him to continue her volunteer work at Rhys and Feyre’s orphanage was an ordeal in itself. They had decided to take a month off to get themselves situated, let their family know of the news, and help prepare Azriel for overcoming that territorial nature ingrained into him.
It wasn’t easy.
The moment they landed in Devlon’s camp, he went full Illyrian—as she so kindly put it. Snarling and snapping at anyone who got too close to his Elain and the new life she then carried.
Most of the Illyrians took in her new scent and the shadowsinger’s wrathful stare and kept a healthy distance away from her. But there were a few that dared to toe that line and came out worse for wear as a result.
Elain couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the antics, muttering Illyrians under her breath as she made her way into the orphanage.
In the few years that she helped out here, she had taken to the young children, but one more so than the rest.
Little Kaden couldn’t have been more than four years old but was much smaller than the other children his age. She had suspected of malnourishment before he was brought in, something she made Azriel aware of. Kaden was incredibly shy, kept to the back of the group, and never spoke.
To anyone.
About three months into her pregnancy, still not even showing at this point, she approached the little boy, clutching a tattered book to his chest. “Hi Kaden,” she greeted, squatting down to put herself at eye level with him. “What do you have there? A book?”
A small nod was her only response, not that it had surprised her. Elain smiled at the little Illyrian. “Would you like me to read it to you?” she asked, sitting down on the floor.
The boy hesitated but eventually caved and crawled into her lap, falling asleep within a couple of minutes of her reading. Her motherly instincts had her cradling his sleeping form to her chest, carding her fingers through his hair that was as dark as her husband’s was.
That was how Azriel found his wife that afternoon when he returned to the orphanage—holding the snoozing Illyrian child, his small hand clutching the front of her dress. He looked at them fondly, seeing the beginnings of this beautiful bond between the Seer and the little one. His heart swelled with pride not just for the work his wife was doing at the orphanage, but also for giving these children a maternal love they never had.
Over the next several months, Kaden seemed to be glued to Elain’s side. Even in the presence of Azriel—the fearsome shadowsinger held a reputation even amongst the children—Kaden stuck by her side, little hand gripping the swaths of her dress. She had asked him one night if that was common in Illyrian culture, to cling that tightly to someone.
It wasn’t. He worried that Kaden appeared afraid that Elain would be taken from him and that was why he was so attached to her.
“That’s awful,” she had said over dinner. “Do you think it has anything to do with his history and how he came to the orphanage? Why he’s there?”
Azriel took a sip of his wine. “It could be. There isn’t much information on him.”
“I’ve been reading to him for months. Spending time with him. And he still won’t speak to me. I’m worried about his development. Isn’t there anything we can do? Try to find?” Her hand rubbed her rounded stomach, growing with new life.
He smiled softly at her. “Of course, my love. I’ll see what I can find. I’ll ask a couple of my sources to look into it. See what they come up with.”
Unfortunately, the information doesn’t come before Elain becomes too pregnant to continue volunteering at the orphanage.
“I’m sorry, Lady Elain, but you’re nine months pregnant and measuring ahead of schedule. Having you outside of Velaris is risky should you go into labor,” Thea, her preferred Healer had told her. “That is my recommendation, but I will leave the decision up to you and your husband.”
With that, she bid them goodbye and let them hash out their plans.
“What about Kaden?” Elain worried.
The shadowsinger’s lips curled up. He cupped her face, thumb brushing over her cheek. “You are a good female, my love. A kind, generous, lovable, beautiful, female. And you will make the best mother—that I have no doubt.” Leaning in, he kissed her softly. “I will check in with the little one.” His thumb stroked her cheek again. “Stay here with the twins. Settle in and prepare for the baby. Let me handle what’s left on the to-do list outside of the house.”
She huffed out a breath. “Well, when you put it that way.” Elain pushed her way off the sofa, her husband instantly there to help her up. “If I can’t go back, then I need to give you something to take to Kaden,” she announced, padding her way over to the kitchen.
Though he knew Kaden would be looking for his wife, Azriel is still surprised to feel the tug on the pant leg of his leathers the next morning when he shows up at the Orphanage without Elain. He smiles, kneeling to make himself less imposing for the little Illyrian. “Hello, Kaden.”
As expected, he gets no vocal response, but he knows exactly what the child wants to know. “I’m sorry Kaden. Elain is too pregnant to come to visit right now. But she did give me something to give to you.” He pulled out the wrapped cookie, baked with love and devotion by his beautiful wife the night before.
Kaden gave him a toothy grin, took the cookie from his outstretched hand, and mumbled the smallest “Tank you,” the t-h sound not coming through.
Azriel is stunned into silence, especially when Kaden threw his arms around his neck before running off to enjoy his treat. Still kneeling, he watched as the little one disappeared, running through all the possible individuals in his head that he could ask to look into his past. He needed to know—for his sake, for his wife’s. For Kaden’s. He needed to know how he ended up here, what happened to his parents, and how they could help him.
“I can’t believe he spoke to you!” Elain complained, sitting against the headboard of their bed, arms crossed over the heavy swells of her breasts. “I’ve spent months with him. Months, Azriel! You bring him one of my cookies and he speaks!”
Azriel chuckled, striding in from the bathing chamber to their bedroom in a pair of his drawers, his golden-tan, tattooed skin on display. He crawled over her, trapping her in the strength of his arms, his body, and kissed her; let his tongue stroke hers. When he pulled back slightly, he smirked at her. “Guess he just likes me more.”
Elain’s face scrunched in disdain and she placed a palm on his chest, shoving him over to his side of the bed. “I dislike you,” she muttered.
He barked out a laugh. “Now that’s a lie and we both know it.” Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her snugly against his chest, letting her rest her belly on his stomach to offer her some relief. His beautiful wife, the mother of his child. They drifted together into a blissful sleep cocooned by his wing and the scent of their nearly arrived baby.
~~~
Two weeks later, Az was in the kitchen preparing breakfast when his shadows went wildly out of control. He flipped everything off as one curled around his ear, whispering in that singsong voice of it, Elain.
Panic erupted in him like nothing he’d ever felt before. “Elain!” he called out, running through the house.
And then he heard it—her screams of pain.
The shadowsinger tore through their home, finding her at the back in the library. She was hunched over the table there, hand gripping the side of her stomach. A small puddle of clear fluid was on the floor beneath her. His eyes widened as he took in the scene. “El,” he murmured.
She was panting heavily. “Az.” Her eyes were shining.
This was it. The baby was coming. He sent a thought to Rhys down their mental bridge that he left open for him, asking him to summon the healer, then swooped down to lift her into his arms and carried her to their bedroom. He stripped her dress off her, leaving her in her shift, and then gently laid her on the bed, propping her up with pillows to make her as comfortable as possible.
Elain touched his cheek, catching his attention. “You ready to be a father,” she asked, a lovely smile growing on her face.
He gripped her hand in his fist, a watery laugh bubbling out of him. “We’re having a baby.” Leaning down, he rested his brow against hers, savoring that last moment before they became parents.
A short while later, an exhausted yet elated Elain placed a beautiful, healthy baby Illyrian girl in his arms—the Cauldron once again blessing its favorite Archeron with a relatively easy birth.
With her father’s dark hair and skin tone and her mother’s eyes, she was easily the most beautiful thing Azriel had ever seen, and he sobbed in utter joy as he held his newborn daughter for the first time. “Hello little one, my little love,” he wept to her. “Daddy loves you so damnmuch.”
Elain swiped the pad of her fingertip over her daughter’s plump cheek, letting her husband have his moment with her.
Those hazel eyes, filled with tears, love, and so much happiness gazed down at his wife. “Have you settled on a name?” he finally asked. They had gone back and forth on two for weeks now until Azriel decided that Elain could decide after the birth.
She smiled nodding, propping her chin on his bicep. “I have. Rosalie Archeron.”
“Rosalie,” he repeated, letting the name curl off his tongue. “It’s perfect. She’s perfect.” Leaning down, he kissed Elain slowly, deeply. “You did so well, my love. Thank you for this. For giving me this life—this gift,” his gaze shifted back to the sleeping baby in his arms, so tiny in comparison to their size.
Elain snuggled into his side as they just stared at their daughter, peacefully dozing in her father’s presence.
They spend the next month on a babymoon at their cottage, sending both Rhys and Cassian to the orphanage to check in on Kaden, though neither was successful in their attempts.
When Elain finally returned to the orphanage, she immediately went in search of him, a pink bundle still in her arms.
The Illyrian brightened immediately at the sight of her, running to grab at her skirts.
“Hi, Kaden,” she said, kneeling in front of him to bring her daughter to his eye level. “I’ve missed you.”
But the little one’s hazel eyes are glued to the face he can see through the swath of blankets. “What’s her name?” he asked in a voice so soft that Elain almost missed it.
She’s so surprised by it that it takes her a second to answer. Once she shook off her stupor, she told him, “Kaden, this is Rosalie.” Elain tilted her daughter up a little more so he could see her better.
“Wosawie,” he repeated, his r’s sounding more like w’s.
It tugged at her heartstrings, seeing how intently he looked at her, how he tried to pronounce her name. She carefully watched as his fingers traced over the soft fabric of her blanket, not daring to touch the baby herself. From the entrance, Elain felt a shadowed figure observing them, the Night Court’s spymaster keeping watch over the intimate moment between his wife, daughter, and the little Illyrian.
Elain ruffled Kaden’s hair. “I need to get some work done if you want to help me,” she announced, setting Rosalie down in one of the cribs. A single shadow lurked beneath the swaths of blankets, Azriel’s form of protection when he was away. As she made her way to the doorway, she realized he hadn’t followed her. Turning around, Elain saw Kaden was still standing by her daughter’s crib, guarding it like her own little protector. She cocked her head to the side but left him to it.
Over the next several weeks, Kaden watched over the Seer and the shadowsinger’s daughter like it was his duty. Elain stood hip propped against the door jam as she studied them when she felt her husband appear at her side. “Do you think they’re mates?” she asked, curiously but also concerned knowing her first mate wasn’t a good match.
Azriel crossed his arms. “No, they’re too young for it to be a mate thing.”
Some underlying worry whooshed out of her at that. She looked at him. “You know something.”
His jaw feathered. “Kaden’s mother was forced into a marriage with his father. They had him early on. She ended up falling in love with another male and got pregnant. When his father found out, he killed her and the unborn child in a fit of rage.”
“Oh my god,” Elain breathed, horror coiling in her gut. That poor female. Her brown eyes found Kaden across the room; looked at him with sorrow.
“He dropped Kaden off here afterward, not wanting anything connected to his unfaithful wife,” Az continued. Tension radiated off him in waves of pure, untamed, fury.
“Was Kaden present for it? The killing of his mother?” she asked, though Elain had a feeling she already knew the answer.
“Yes, he was.” It was barely controlled rage in her husband’s tone. Shadows swirled around his ankles, the talons of his wings. “I think Kaden could smell your pregnancy and clung to you, afraid that you would be ripped from him like his mother was. And now he’s watching over Rosalie.”
The sibling he never got.
Elain was struggling not to cry—something that wasn’t a result of the hormones still raging in her body. “Is his father still alive?”
Azriel was looking at the two children when he answered, “For now.” He had to release a breath, turning to face his wife who watched the children with sorrow. “You want to take him home.” It wasn’t a question. Az had a knack for reading her so well.
She took his scarred hand in hers, looking up at his face. “Yes. He adores Rosalie and I adore him.”
The wrath on the shadowsinger’s face from earlier vanished at her words. “And I adore you,” he whispered, pulling her closer to kiss her. “Two kids. Do you think we’re ready?”
“There’s nothing we can’t do, my love,” Elain breathed, taking his face in her hands and pressing her lips to his again, further proving just how much their love could conquer all.
“I’ll go speak with the head mother of the orphanage. Go wait with them and we’ll tell him together.”
Elain squeezed his hands. “I love you, Azriel. So much.”
“I love you, too, Elain. And I love this family. Thank you, my love, for giving me this.” He threw an arm around her waist, tugging her close to him. The Seer and the shadowsinger watched over the two children with awe on their faces and love in their hearts as their family of three became four.
Now Azriel stood in the doorway of the nursery, watching as Elain rocked their children in the large rocking chair, Kaden perched in her lap against her chest, Rosalie already fast asleep in the crook of her arm. She was reading one of their son’s favorite bedtime stories. He smiled as took in the scene in front of him. Az never thought he’d get this life. Have this beautiful, chosen family with the love of his life. And the Mother knew he would never change a thing.
~~~~~
Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it.
I’m not doing a tag list anymore because they’re really more trouble than their worth. For notifications, you can follow and subscribe to my fanfic account where I will be reblogging updates and snippets only. You can also find me on ao3.
As I write this, it saddens me to know that this is my last @elriel-month fic. This month went by so quickly, and there was such amazing content produced from it. I want to recognize all of the fantastic people who participated in Elriel Month, both in producing content and those who consistently like, comment, reblog, share, etc. the work that is produced. It’s been such a fun month, and a huge thank you to all of those who put it on. A lot of time, effort, and work goes on behind the scenes to keep these appreciation monthsrunning. Y'all are amazing.
Now on to the fic. This is part 2 of Little One. I’ve had this fic written for months and I’m super excited to share it with you. Please let me know your thoughts!
Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome.
Trigger warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, some descriptions of canon-typical violence, very minor adult descriptions
Word Count: 4,127
Elain sat at their kitchen table, a gurgling Rosalie tucked in the crook of her arm, Kaden sat across from her munching on some freshly baked pastries, cured meats, and sipping on fruit juice. A cup of tea rested against her palm as she smiled down at her son who happily hummed while eating his breakfast, bare feet kicking under his chair. It was just the three of them this morning, Azriel having been called away by their High Lord for an urgent meeting at nearly the crack of dawn.
He apologized profusely for not only waking her so early but also for having to leave her, to which he made up for with his head between her legs as the sun broke the horizon, casting an orange glow into their bedroom.
“How do you like your pastries, Kaden?” she asked, readjusting her swaddled daughter who had started to fuss in her arms. Though thoroughly sated, once the shadowsinger left their bed this morning, Elain knew she wasn’t going back to sleep and decided to get up and try out a new pastry recipe for breakfast.
The little Illyrian flashed her a big, toothy grin. “I wuv them, momma!” he shouted excitedly, crumbs smeared on his pink lips.
Elain couldn’t help the way her heart swelled at being called momma by him. It had taken quite a while for Kaden to grow comfortable in his new home. He had been living with them for right around five months now and had only begun calling her “momma” a few weeks ago. He had yet to bless Azriel with a fatherly name, much to his dismay, but they both knew that with Kaden’s early childhood ordeal, his attachment to Illyrian males would be a slow one. It would come, he just needed to be patient she assured him.
They also took introducing Kaden to his new family slowly, only allowing them over one at a time so as to not overwhelm him. Meeting Elain’s sisters and Mor went easily enough, but that wasn’t where they were concerned. Though Rhys was the High Lord and half Illyrian, Kaden was clearly more intimidated by Cassian’s larger stature and permanent presence of wings. The general, hoping to bond with the little one, proceeded to sit on the floor with their son for an hour and played with the stuffed bear he brought with him. It wasn’t until Nesta showed up looking for her husband that Cassian departed, happily receiving a shy hug on his one leg before he left.
“I’m glad, sweetie. Maybe next time I make them, you can help momma? Would you like to do that?”
Little hands hit the table in excitement. “Yes! Yes, pwease momma, can we?”
She smiled down at him with so much love. “Of course, baby.” Elain propped Rosalie on her shoulder, running a soothing hand down her back as the terrace door opened and her husband entered. “Look, Kaden. Daddy’s home. Why don’t you go get dressed now so we can head out soon?”
Despite not calling Azriel “daddy” yet, both he and Elain had decided to refer to each other by paternal names in hopes that it would encourage him to make the connection as to who he was to them, and who they were to him.
He was their son.
And they were his parents.
No matter the blood or lineage, nothing would change that.
“Okay!” He wiggled from his chair and made a mad dash from the table to his bedroom as the shadowsinger approached, a soft smile on his face watching Kaden run from the kitchen.
Azriel dropped a kiss to her lips, and then one to the top of Rosalie’s head, his fingers brushing her rogue wisps of curls. “Good morning, my little love,” he whispered.
She couldn’t help but smile at their daughter’s coo of greeting. “What did Rhys need you for so early this morning?” Elain asked as they began clearing the table of the breakfast spread.
Hazel eyes met her gaze and something twisted in her stomach at the worry she saw there. “There’s been a scuffle at one of the Illyrian camps,” he stated, setting dishes in the sink.
Elain’s brows furrowed. “How bad?”
“Rhys, Cassian, and I are about to head there to handle the situation.”
The inflection of his voice told her that there was information left unsaid. “There’s something else.”
Azriel huffed, leaning back against the counter. His strong arms crossed over his broad chest. “It’s the camp that Kaden’s biological father is at.”
The thought of that awful male made Elain want to find her son, cradle him in her lap, and never let go. “Do you think we should be concerned?”
He ran a scarred hand through his inky locks. “He’s a camp Lord and we are within the twenty-four-hour window of the Blood Rite, which means he has magic and can winnow. I don’t think that’s a coincidence.” Those golden irises blazed in fury.
“Lorenzo didn’t want anything to do with him. Why would he be making a fuss now?” It didn’t make sense. That male lost any right to claim Kaden as his son when he dropped him off at that orphanage and didn’t come back. Elain had later learned that her son had been there going on a year now and the Lord hadn’t made a peep about his child. It was both heartbreak and rage that had warred within her at that knowledge.
The shadowsinger shrugged. “Maybe word got back to him that he was adopted?”
“He left him at an orphanage!” she hissed, patting Rosalie’s back when she started to squirm.
Azriel took a step closer to her, his hand touching the back of his daughter’s head. “I think it could be about who adopted him too,” he said a bit quietly.
Elain’s heart twisted. She knew what he was hinting at. That the camp Lord wouldn’t deem Az worthy enough to raise even a child he gave up. “If he believes you unworthy to love that boy then I’ll kill him myself.”
The corner of his lips turned up briefly. “I will never stop being grateful for your devotion to me, my love.” He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “I know you don’t like to be sidelined and that you can protect yourself, but I think you and the kids should stay away from Illyria today. I just—” a frustrated hand ran through his hair. “I can help but worry that the scuffle at the camp is to pull me away from you three at the orphanage.”
“Az,” she breathed, reaching out to grip his forearm, thumb swiping soothing strokes over his tanned, tattooed skin. “You’re scared.” It wasn’t a question.
He ducked his head. “Of course, I’m scared. He’s my son. Our son. I will do anything to protect him, Rosalie, and you.”
Elain nodded in agreement. “We don’t take chances here, not when it comes to our children. If you think there’s a risk with the three of us going to the camps, no matter how small, we won’t go. I won’t put our babies in danger.”
Her husband let out a sigh of relief, tugging her and Rosalie into his arms. He kissed her softly, conveying all his love and emotion for her and their little family from his lips. When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers. “Feyre said she has a morning class with some younger children at the studio today and that you’re more than welcome to bring Kaden by to paint.”
“I think he would like that. Maybe we’ll take a stroll through the Rainbow and the park by the Sidra, too.”
It was rare to see the Night Court spymaster drop all his masks and show his true self. A male so full of love, joy, and devotion. But since the birth of Rosalie, and the adoption of Kaden, Elain had seen it more and more on Azriel’s face. It was her favorite look on him, one he tended to wear when he fed and rocked his little girl to sleep, or when he’d peek in on his son as he slept, checking to make sure he was okay. It was the same look he wore now.
“I think that sounds like a wonderful idea.”
Padded feet tore down the hallway and slid into the kitchen. Both parents turned to look at a disheveled Kaden.
“Azweel! Can you but-tin my wing slots, pweeze?”
A low chuckle rumbled from Azriel’s chest as he stepped out of her embrace. “Sure buddy, come here.”
Kaden’s undeveloped magic prevented him from being able to button the flaps of his shirt around his wings alone. He’d be able to eventually, but for now, either she or Az would have to help him, not that they minded.
“Wings up,” Azriel said, reaching underneath the membranes to snap the flaps together.
“Where are your shoes?” Elain asked, once his shirt was secured.
Little, tanned toes fluttered on the stone floor. “By the door, momma.”
Her husband helped Kaden tug on his shoes as Elain secured a now sleeping Rosalie to her chest, allowing both her arms to be free. It was a wrap that Feyre swore by when she had Nyx, and Elain was inclined to agree. Having both arms available while she ran errands was indeed a lifesaver.
After explaining the change of plans to Kaden, he reached up and took Azriel’s ring and pinky finger in his small hand. “Are you coming with us?”
Her husband knelt, “Sorry, buddy. Uncle Rhys needs daddy’s help right now.”
Kaden’s lower lip jutted out in a way that Elain knew Azriel struggled to say no to. Even now, she could see the war of his vow to his High Lord and the need to protect his son dance across his face with his desire to stay with them.
He cleared his throat. “Tell you what; as soon as I’m finished with your uncle, I’ll meet up with you guys and we’ll spend the rest of the day together. How does that sound?”
The little Illyrian brightened, and he shouted in glee.
Az tugged him to his chest, kissing him on the top of his black hair. “I’ll see you later, son. I love you.”
“I wuv you too, Azweel.”
He stood, turning back to her.
“Be safe,” Elain said lowly enough to not let Kaden overhear them.
Az nodded. “I will. I’ll come home as soon as I can.” He slid a hand to her jaw to kiss her, careful of their daughter between them, then pecked the top of Rosalie’s head. “I love you,” he whispered to them both, before vanishing into the shadows.
Elain’s stomach turned restlessly. Something about the whole situation still didn’t feel right, but she would stay strong for both her husband and her son. Swallowing her nerves, she took Kaden’s hand to make their way into the bustling streets of Velaris.
~~~
The three of them strolled through the park along the glittering waters of the Sidra River having finished their painting session earlier and a delicious lunch at a small café moments ago. Kaden’s painting was sitting at Feyre’s studio, which Elain was to go pick up in a few days once it was dry. It was mostly strokes of colors and handprints, but she still thought it was the most beautiful artwork, biased or not.
Warm rays of the sun beat down on them, bringing about a flush of color on her skin and the golden hues on both of her children’s darker complexions.
Kaden had taken off, chasing after a colorful butterfly.
Elain followed the sounds of his giggles. “Stay close, Kaden!” she called when he got a bit too far for her comfort.
Ever the good listener, he rounded back towards her, stopping to look at a small coping of rose bushes. “Look, momma! Woses!” he shouted, the r sound still coming out like a w. It was something they were working on with him.
“Yes, they are, good job!” she said back, stopping beneath a shaded tree for some much-needed cooling. Kaden had taken to her garden and she took the time to teach him the names of the various plants and flowers she was growing.
Elain placed a hand on the top of Rosalie’s head, feeling the warmth of it. It was an unusually balmy spring day, one that predicted the early onset of summer.
A blip on the horizon caught her eye. She watched it as it came closer, membranous wings flapping to send it hurtling through the sky towards her.
Elain’s head cocked as she studied the movement, so unlike her husband’s elegance, Cassian’s strong presence, or even Rhys’s regal grace. Brown eyes widened as she realized who, exactly, was flying towards her.
Towards her son.
She was moving then. “Kaden!” she screamed, “Kaden, come here, right now!”
At his mother’s distressed voice, he turned, running towards her.
With a hand holding onto the back of Rosalie, Elain cradled Kaden’s head and shoved him behind her just as the Illyrian male slammed into the ground in front of them. She felt the impact through her feet.
The park was fairly empty, but the few fae present took off at the sight of the unknown Illyrian, leaving her utterly alone with him.
Kaden’s fists gripped the skirts of her lilac dress, and though every instinct in her told her never to back down from a threat, she would not risk it with both of her children in the line of fire. Elain stepped back, moving her son with her.
The male, a version of what her son may one day have features of, savagely grinned down at her. A sharp jaw, high cheekbones with a long nose. His hair was worn similar to how Cassian kept his, but a shade or two lighter. He wasn’t as large as her husband, she realized. Az had him beat by several inches and his shoulders weren’t nearly as broad. But even with that knowledge, everything about the male in front of her screamed warrior.
Dangerous.
Threat.
Her magic rumbled in her chest in response. The siphon on her ring flared once, throwing up a thin barrier between them and him—Azriel’s magic sealed away for when she needed it. The shadow that adorned her finger as a wedding band vanished.
“So,” he drawled, sounding utterly bored. “I finally get to meet the pretty, little pet that has captured the heart of the bastard-born shadowsinger.”
Elain snarled at the taunt. “Watch your tongue, Lorenzo,” she snapped.
That malicious grin grew. “And you’ve heard of me. Perfect. Hand over my son, and I’ll be on my way.”
She angled herself, shielding Kaden further behind her. “He is not your son. Unless you have a death wish, I suggest you flap your way back to where you came from.”
The smirk faded and something far deadlier took its place. “My blood runs through his veins—”
“Blood doesn’t make you a father,” she spat, vehemently. “You lost your right to claim him when you left him at that orphanage. Kaden is mine and Azriel’s son. Now and forever.”
“If you think I’m going to let you and that pathetic excuse of an Illyrian raise—”
Her blood raged like a weathered storm. One that toppled the largest of ships and swept armies into the depths of the sea. Her magic responded in kind, light bursting out of her and shoving him back a step. His eyes widened at the surprise drop she got on him. “That pathetic excuse of an Illyrian is a thousand times more of a male than you could ever dream of being. And if you say one more thing like that about my husband, I will gut you here in this park.”
The red siphon flickered on his chest in response to her attack. “Do you have any idea who you’re speaking to?” he demanded, voice edging dangerously close to levels Elain knew meant he was about to lose his temper.
She curled the corner of her mouth up. “A low-level camp lord with a single siphon? Yes, I know exactly who I’m speaking to.” She threw as much disdain in her voice as she could muster. “I think the better question is, do you know who you’re speaking to?” At his silence, she grinned. “Cauldron-blessed Seer. The Mother reincarnated. And what are you here doing? Trying to take a child away from his mother. Believe me when I say I won’t let that happen.”
“I’ll end you and your brat if need be,” he countered, taking a step forward to try and intimidate her.
But Elain had felt another’s presence as he neared. Saw in her peripheral vision the dark swath of shadows above their heads. “You hurt me or my daughter, you take my son, and I can promise you that you won’t make it out of Velaris alive.”
Before he could respond, a solid mass of muscle and wings dropped from the sky, forcing Lorenzo to take a step back lest he wanted to be smashed beneath Azriel’s large frame. Her husband’s knees bent as he landed, absorbing the impact. As he stood to his full height, his wings stretched out, blocking her and their children from the other male’s view.
The ground shook from his landing, and Elain felt Kaden push himself further into her legs. She brushed her thumb over the back of his head, hoping to soothe him with her touch.
“Get back,” Azriel growled, voice colder than what he used as the Night Court spymaster. Shadows skittered out, flitting around her and the kids, searching for any signs of injury. When they finished their assessment, they turned their attention back on Lorenzo, swirling like shards of ice, pushing him back, back, back. “Stay away from myson.”
“He is not your son.”
“We adopted him. We took him into our home. We fed him, and clothed him, and loved him. He is as much our son as our daughter is and nobody is going to take that away from us.” He took several steps forward, forcing the male backward again.
With the added space between them, Elain felt the shield in front of her reinforce itself.
“Momma,” Kaden croaked through the plaits of her skirts. Large tears filled his hazel eyes.
Her hand swept through his hair. “It’s okay, Kaden. You’re safe.” She pulled him closer to her hip, letting her other hand come down to rest protectively on his cheek. Her thumb brushed away the tears that spilled over his dark lashes.
Kaden buried his face back into swaths of her dress.
Thunder cracked like two boulders crashing together.
Elain’s head snapped to the side to see Rhys step out of rolling darkness, decked in his full Illyrian leathers. His lack of normal attire told her he had come ready for bloodshed.
“Lorenzo,” the High Lord drawled. “You’re far from home.”
The other Illyrian, seeing he was now outnumbered, grew even more furious. “I came to take what was is mine,” he fumed, reaching back for the sword sheathed across his back.
“He is not some object for you to collect,” Az stated furiously.
“He is mine,” the Lord shot back.
Azriel tensed, glancing back at her and then looking down at Kaden who was peeking at them behind her skirts.
Elain saw his hand twitch for the legendary dagger strapped to his thigh, but he didn’t grab it.
He returned his gaze to Lorenzo. “I’m not going to end your life here, no matter that you deserve it. My son has already seen enough bloodshed in his short life because of you. I won’t add to that.”
The camp Lord just smiled, “Then you’re only going to make him as weak as you are.” And then he struck, the Illyrian metal singing as it aimed for a killing blow—decapitation.
Seven blue siphons flared. Lorenzo went flying backward, his sword ripped from his hand by shadows.
“Daddy!”
“Kaden!” Elain screamed, reaching out to try and stop the little Illyrian from running into the fray, but it was too late.
His little legs carried him fast over the ground and Azriel barely had a chance to whip around before a little body tackled him. “Daddy!” he cried again, clutching at his leathers with small fists.
A blue shield shot up, enclosing her husband and her son in a protective barrier. He wasted no time lifting Kaden into his arms, a scarred hand threading through his black tresses to hold him close.
Tiny arms went around his neck as Kaden pressed his damp face above the collar of his Illyrian leathers. “I don’t wanna go,” he whimpered into his shoulder.
Azriel moved his hand from the back of his head to between his wings, rubbing strokes like he would when his son would wake with nightmares. “You’re not going anywhere, Kaden. Nobody is taking you from us.” He kissed the side of his head, allowing a few minutes to comfort his son.
Elain’s heart ached, wanting to go to them, but also not wanting to let a second child get too close to Lorenzo’s unhinged state again.
Azriel nodded towards her, assuring her that their son was safe.
It sent a wave of relief rushing through her.
He turned, finding Rhys hauling Lorenzo to his feet.
The disgust on the Illyrian male’s face at her husband holding their son made her hackles rise, enough so that her magic rumbled in response. She dampened it, not wanting to wake her daughter that somehow had stayed asleep through everything so far.
The look of the spymaster replaced Az’s hardened features. “I granted you a chance to walk away. I want you to remember that when your High Lord winnows you back to the camp to face him and your general. But if you come after my family again, you even have thoughts about my son, your life is forfeited.” Azriel gave his brother a curt nod, watching as the High Lord and Lorenzo winnowed away.
Shields lowered and both parents were striding for each other. Tears pricked her eyes as her husband embraced her and Rosalie with one arm, still holding Kaden in his other. Scarred fingers found her jaw, tilting her head up to bring their mouths together in a desperate kiss, needing to feel her presence. “Are you hurt?” he asked, his eyes darting to check over their daughter.
“We’re fine,” she breathed, her hand reaching up to lay it on Kaden’s lower back, rubbing it. She glanced back up at her husband’s face, seeing a look of awe that had settled there.
He called me daddy, he mouthed at her, silver lining his eyes. He had been waiting for Kaden’s willingness to grace him with that name—had been getting antsy for it.
Elain let out a choked sound, gripping her husband’s wrist with her other hand. I know, she mouthed back.
Kaden twisted his head, propping his cheek on Azriel’s shoulder, his arms were still wrapped around his neck.
The shadowsinger dropped a kiss to his forehead as Elain let her nails scratch at his back. “I was going to suggest we go get a frozen treat after our walk,” she started, catching her son’s eyes. There was a far-off look that she didn’t like seeing. “Does that sound good to you, Kaden?”
The little Illyrian nodded, though he gave no vocal response.
It worried her, his unwillingness to speak. They had broken through so many barriers in getting him to open up after he came home with them—she hated the idea of this setting him back. “Do you want to see if daddy can join us?” she tried, seeing how he clung to his father, though she knew Az had no intentions of leaving them alone.
Not for a while.
She also knew Az was well aware of what she was trying to do too.
Kaden was silent for a moment, but both parents waited patiently, giving him the time to voice his thoughts. “Can you, daddy?” he finally whispered.
The shadowsinger visibly hugged him tighter, resting his cheek on the top of his head. “Of course, we can,” he choked out. The emotional vulnerability rang clear in his voice. Lifting Kaden higher up on his hip, Azriel took Elain’s hand in his scarred one and brushed a light kiss over her knuckles.
Her heart swelled. Resting a hand on the back of a still sleeping Rosalie, the family of four strolled through the park and spent the rest of the day enjoying treats and each other’s company.
~~~~~
Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it.
I’m not doing a tag list anymore because they’re really more trouble than their worth. For notifications, you can follow and subscribe to my fanfic account where I will be reblogging updates and snippets only. You can also find me on ao3.
Elain felt jubilation and joy course through Azriel only a few minutes later, not quite understanding what it meant.
It contrasted so deeply with the sorrow and anguish she’d felt so recently that she wondered if the Siphon had not cracked under the strain she’d put on using it today.
She pulled the polished stone out of her pocket, turning it over between her fingers.
Whole. It was whole. As lustrous and beautiful and endlessly blue as last night when Azriel had given it to her.
If you are a fan of the ACOTAR series, this is really a truly amazing fan fiction that is a blend of the actual work with fantastic new perspectives from the view of Elain & Azriel. Love it!!
Last part! I know I said this would be 6/7 parts, but I realized I have no idea what the fuck I had planned to write in those parts, so it’s 5 instead hahah. didn’t edit the ending whoops
We’re laying in bed, and even though I should asleep like the man next to me, I can’t stop thinking about how little time we have left.
How has the past month gone by so fast?
It feels like yesterday I was standing on my stoop, watching Azriel open up and tell me things he’s since admitted he’s never told another person.
It feels like yesterday since I decided that I care for him more than I care about what he does.
But it wasn’t yesterday; it was a month ago.
A month that’s been filled with dinner dates, soft smiles, laughter, and enough tender moments my heart feels full. He’s a
The plane ticket hidden in the bottom of my purse is a constant reminder that this is just a summer fling, that it isn’t supposed to mean anything. Two weeks from now, I’m supposed to get on that flight and never look back.
Except it feels impossible.
It broke my heart when I walked away from him a month ago, and that was before he told me the details of his life.
Now I know him.
I know about the way he smiles in the morning and how he shakes his head when he laughs, like he can’t believe he’s doing so. I’ve learned how ticklish his ribs are, how he likes his coffee, his favorite type of cigarettes.
I know about his family, how his mother died giving birth to him and his father resented him from the day it happened. I know about the first man he killed, how it made him sick. I know what his tattoos really mean.
And what I never could’ve expected is that everything I’ve learned,the good andthe bad, have tied me to him in a way that feels permanent.
How am I supposed to just walk away from that?
The thought of never seeing his smile, never feeling his rough hands cup my face with a gentleness he doesn’t show the world… it feels like missing a part of me.
And it worries me enough I haven’t been able to sleep for the past two nights. Like I’m incapable of wasting a minute, I spend the nights watching him sleep.
Which is why I’m perfectly awake when he pulls me close in his sleep and whispers two words that ruin me.
Ti amo.
Tears well in my eyes as I stay perfectly still, replaying the moment over and over.
He loves me.
It’s something I knew–something we both probably knew–ever since that day in the rain, but I think we both never said it because we knew our time is limited.
It’s been in every touch, every kiss, every moment where we get caught up just staring at each other.
But I want to tell him, I haveto tell him, because however good it makes me feel to hear that from him… I know he needs it more.
He’s never been loved–never been anyone’s first choice, but he’s mine, and I want him to know. And I don’t want to be just one more person that leaves him and makes him wondering if he’ll ever be enough.
So I start to plan.
~A week later, Azriel~
Well, the worst has happened.
I love the fucking woman.
Now my biggest weakness now walks outside my body, with soft brown eyes and dirty blonde hair and bright smiles that light up the world.
And she’s leaving in a week.
It scares the shit out of me.
Shescares the shit out of me.
Honestly, I hadn’t even realized I was in so deep until she said the words “We’re done.”
All I remember about that day is feeling I’d been stabbed in the chest and looking down to find the blade but not seeing anything but my own hands.
One moment I was convinced I was dying, the next I was in front of her on her stoop, telling her shit I’ve never told a living soul.
It wasn’t then that I realized I love her, but that was when I realized something maybe even more important. I trust her.
Rule 3’s been thrown out the window, and I don’t even remember when it happened. Was it when she told me I’m not a monster? Or the first time I noticed the way her lips turn up every time I tell her she’s beautiful?
Or maybe it was the first time I laid eyes on her as she stumbled into that opera booth, looking like everything I never knew I wanted.
Either way, I’m about a mile up shit’s creek with no fucking paddle.
I trust her, loveher, and I’ve only known her ten weeks. Which reminds me, she’s leaving.
Which is irritating, because while the mere thought of watching her leave makes me want to level a building, she’s currently acting like nothing’s wrong.
She’s in the bathroom, putting on red lipstick in a slow, taunting way that makes me want to mess it up. I’m sitting in the chair next to my bed, trying to stay calm.
She’s watching me watch her in the mirror, and her eyes meet mine for a split second before she looks away, making me suspicious.
That look… I’ve seen that look before, more times than I can count.
But never from her.
It’s a secret.
She looks like she’s hiding something.
“Something you need to tell me?” I ask, putting a hand behind my head to prop it up.
Nodding, she comes to stand at the foot of the bed. “Yep.”
I raise a brow. “What is it?”
“I’ll tell you tonight if you meet me for dinner.”
Suspicion and curiosity make me ask, “Where?”
“La Rosa,” she responds casually, making me narrow my eyes. It’s outside of the city a bit, a small place on the coast I’ve never had an interest in owning or visiting.
“I’ve never been there.”
“New experiences are good for the soul,” she quips, sliding on her sandals. “Just say you’ll meet me.”
There’s a hint of nerves in her voice, so I say, “Of course, dolce mia.”
She smiles, victorious. Then she’s bounding over, taking my face between her palms, and pressing her mouth to mine.
Before I can ask what she’s up to, she’s out the door, calling over her shoulder, “Seven o'clock! I’ll meet you there.”
I get up and slide my jacket on, slipping my hand in the pocket and toying with the piece of metal I’ve been carrying around for a month.
Sighing, I take it out and throw it on the counter, knowing that if this life has taught me one thing, it’s that it won’t make a difference.
~
When seven o'clock rolls around, I’m seated at a table, frowning at my surroundings.
I’ve definitely never been here.
No man has, I’m willing to bet. At least not on his own volition.
There are flowers everywhere. Spilling out of vases, growing on the vines surrounding the open windows, lining the doors that are open to the patio out back.
Besides that, I guess the place isn’t too bad, actually. The lights are soft, the weather’s nice, and by the smells coming from tables around me, the food will be good.
Elain’s running a few minutes late, but she called and told me to go ahead and order.
Apparently, she’s come here before, because she told me what to order her. Odd.
A few minutes after I relay the information to the waitress, I spot her coming in the front door and wave her over.
She’s a little flushed, her eyes are bright, and the smile on her face gives no doubt she’s excited.
I stand up when she reaches me, kiss her, then ask, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she says too quickly. “Did you order?”
“Yeah. Have you been here before or something?”
She nods, diverting her eyes down and to the right in the classic tell of a lie.
I sigh, frustration getting the better of me. “Elain, what are you hiding from me?”
Before she can answer, the food comes. Two plates of pasta are set in front of us, and I know instantly I was right about the food being good.
But no matter how good it looks, there’s only one thing on my mind.
“Elain.”
She waves a hand. “Just eat, Azriel. I promise I’ll tell you in like five minutes.”
“Why not just tell me now?”
“It’s more dramatic this way,” she explains, making me sigh again.
Women.
She’s going to give me a fucking heart attack with her drama.
A little aggressively, I stab the fork in the pasta, taking a huge bite.
I feel her eyes on me, watching me eat, but I act like I don’t notice, mentally counting down the seconds until five minutes is up.
I’m at 263 when she asks, “Do you like it?”
“What?”
Rolling her eyes, she gestures to the plate in front of me. “Do you like it?”
“It’s good,” I reply honestly, a little surprised. I’ve lived here long enough to know the best places to eat, and I’ve never heard more than a decent review about this place.
“I’m glad,” she says, full lips tilting up. “Since I made it.”
I don’t get it. Did she bring it with her? Is that why she was late?
Also, why did we come to a restaurant if she was going to cook?
“What? Why?”
She tilts her head, smile growing.
Right as my still-counting subconscious gets to five minutes, she explains, “Because I work here.”
~Elain~
He stares at me, bite of pasta halfway between his mouth and the plate.
I’ve been almost bursting at the seems the past four days trying to keep the secret.
I mean, given what the man does for a living, I didn’t think I’d make it more than an hour. And while he’s definitely been suspicious, I made it.
“What?” he finally asks, dark brows furrowing as he leans in.
“I have a lot to say,” I tell him. “So don’t interrupt me.”
His eyes narrow like they always do when I tell him what to do, but I ignore it and start listing off the different secrets I’ve been keeping.
I start with the most important.
“First, I love you.”
The fork clangs against the plate as he drops it.
I smile, biting my lip and trying not to cry at the look on his face.
“I think I have since that first night when we danced in the bar. Or maybe when you took me to the beach. I don’t know.” Taking a deep breath, I say, “I tried to stop, when I found out… everything. But it was useless, because I was as in love with you then as I am now.”
He shakes his head, almost like he’s panicked, but I keep going.
“I love you, Azriel. I want to be with you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. And I can’t bear the thought of leaving you. I don’t want to.”
Gesturing around us, I say, “I got a job here, and my landlord said she can draw up a lease. And before you say anything, I’m not giving anything up. The past months have felt like paradise, and I love it here. I liked my job in New York, but it wasn’t anything I’ll miss.”
His eyes are so wide, it’d be a little funny if I wasn’t so serious.
I take a sip of wine and try to puta brave face on. A lump forms in my throat, but I manage to say, “But we never talked about anything long term, so if this isn’t what you want… I’ll go. I promise. I just wanted you to know that you’re… it for me. You’re everything to me. I choose you.”
He shudders, closing his eyes, and I take in how tight his jaw is, how close he seems to coming unraveled.
Is he freaking out? I definitely am.
After a few moments, I realize he’s still waiting on me, so I laugh and say, “You can talk now.”
He doesn’t.
He just opens his eyes and stares at me, the shock in his gaze clear to read.
Nerves blossom. I was so sure he’d be happy, but maybe he isn’t ready. Voice turning shaky, I ask, “Is this what you want?”
Slowly, he shakes his head, but before I can panic, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key, holding it out between us. “I want you to live with me, not at the townhouse.”
All the nerves fly out the door, and I laugh, not quite able to believe it.
How long has he been carrying this around?
The tears finally spilling over as I take the key from him. “Okay.”
He brushes my cheeks off with his thumb, looking at me like he’s never seen anything more beautiful.
Azriel’s quiet for a moment, and I give him time, knowing that whatever he wants to say is hard for him.
“Ti amo. Mi spaventa così tanto.”
I love you. So much is scares me.
“You? Scared? I don’t believe it.”
I’m trying to joke and lighten the mood, but he’s completely serious as he shakes his head, cupping my jaw with his hand. “You scare the shit out of me, Elain.”
My heart clenches, and I fight a fresh wave of tears as I lean into his touch. “You scare me, too.”
“But you’re not leaving.”
It’s said like a hopeful promise, like something he needs to hear again and again to accept it’s true.
I shake my head. “I’m not leaving,” I whisper.
He finally smiles, that big smile I’m positive he only gives me, and leans over the table to kiss me softly. “Say it again.”
“I love you.”
He kisses me again, and I slide my hands in his hair and kiss him back, feeling like everything before now has led up to this. He’s the grand finale, the one I didn’t know I was waiting for.
I pull back a little, just far enough to see his reaction as I whisper, “Meet me in the bathroom.”
His eyes flare and his mouth drops open, and I laugh as I get up from my seat and try to walk nonchalantly towards the back.
This hadn’t been part of the plan, but I’ve told him I love him, and now… I want to prove it.
Plus, I don’t know what it is about him, but he feeds the adventurous side of me like nothing else.
I can feel him watching me from the table as I make my way across the restaurant.
Thankfully, the place is busy tonight, so I don’t think anyone notices when, as soon as I shut the bathroom door, he rises to follow me.
A moment later, he slips in with me, taking in the dim lights, closed stall, low music. He flips the lock, and it’s like it snaps the thread between us, descending us into chaos.
He’s on me in a second, arms wrapping around me and lifting me. My legs bracket his hips as he pushes me up against the wall and traps my hands above my head.
“Say it again,” he demands breathlessly, eyes bright and full of heat.
I nip his lower lip, then kiss it softly. “I love you, Azriel.”
His mouth crashes into mine, unrestrained and demanding and deep enough I lose myself in him.
My hands are in his hair, his are pushing up the hem of my dress.
There’s a brief moment of adjusting, and then he’s easing into me. His eyes are on me, his lips are parted, and as I tighten around him, he makes a deep rumbling sound. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
“You’re mine,” I tell him, tilting my hips to take him deeper. “And I’m yours.”
He shudders, eyes going black. “You’re mine.”
His hips claim mine, then, pulling out and thrusting back in, moving me up the wall. I tighten my fingers in his hair as he hits a spot deep inside me, and he groans.
Moving his hands to my hips, he brings me down as he thrusts up, and I moan, then slap a hand over my mouth.
Iworkhere, for God’s sake.
“This is not very professional,” I mutter, smiling when his lips twitch.
“No,” he agrees, thrusting into me harder. “And it’s definitely inappropriate.”
I clamp my lips together, pressing my hand to my mouth again to stifle the involuntary whimper I let out.
Azriel grins, tugging on my earlobe with his teeth and whispering, “You might need to go to confessional again.”
Rolling my eyes, I move my hands to his shoulders, then lean in to lick up the column of his neck. “Between the two of us, I’d say you’re more likely to end up on your knees tonight.”
He laughs, tugging my head back to kiss me again. His tongue meets mine in a wet, deep slide that makes me shiver. His hips brush mine. His hands hold me just right, keeping me against him.
Pulling back, he brushes his lips over mine and whispers, “I love you.”
The easy, conversational pace is abandoned, and we’re moving harder against each other, the only sounds our labored breathing and muffled moans.
He brings a hand to cover my mouth, and I cover his with mine, and we’re in tandem, both of us lost in the other.
He comes when I do, driving deeply into me and stilling, his head buried in my neck.
We spend a while like that, and when I eventually slide down the wall, we take our time adjusting our clothes. He keeps stopping me to kiss my shoulder or brow, and I waste too much time just looking at him.
When we’re both ready, he extends a hand and grins. “Let’s go home.”
I smile, unable to help it. “Let’s go home.”
_____________________________________________
Thank you for reading! This is the last part, although I might do an epilogue one day (don’t hold your breath lol).
God help yall this shit was a rollercoaster to write
________________________________________________
~Elain~
For a second, no one breathes, let alone moves.
Azriel’s hands are steady as he grips the gun, body lined with tension, eyes so cold I shiver. The barrel’s close enough that if I leaned forward an inch, it’d brush my forehead.
The man next to him holds a cigarette halfway to his mouth, looking at me like he’s never seen a woman before and has absolutely no idea what to do.
And me? I’m frozen in place, horror rushing through my veins and mixing with the shock to create a nauseating cocktail I’m not sure I’ll survive.
It’s the brutalized man in the chair slumping over and hitting the floor with a loud thud that finally snaps us out of our momentary haze.
Azriel blinks and throws the gun to the side so hard it makes a dent in the wall, the stranger drops his cigarette and reaches for me, and I sprint like my fucking life depends on it. Because at this point, I’m pretty sure it might.
What the hell did I walk into?
I race up the stairs toward the garage, where less than a minute ago, I’d heard Azriel’s voice and gone to surprise him. By the look on his face when he turned around, I’d at least succeeded in that.
I can practically feelthe man behind me, can tell he’s reaching a hand out to grab me.
I’ve never been a violent person in my life, but with the amount of adrenaline coursing through me, I don’t even question the urge to use the wine bottle in my hands as a weapon.
It breaks over the man’s head, but unlike in the movies, he doesn’t go down immediately. However, he does lose his balance enough that with a firm shove to his chest, he goes crashing back down to the hellhole I’m running from.
I make it to the garage and slam the door to the basement closed, locking it for good measure. Then I drag the heavy workbench next to the line of pristine cars over in front of it for even bettermeasure.
I refuse to let myself stop and think, because I’m pretty sure if I do, I’ll break down into a pool of tears and never get up. I’m running on nothing but adrenaline, and I know I’ll crash soon, but I force myself to keep going.
For a moment, I’m tempted to steal one of the cars to get away, but the sound of angry Italian shouts behind the locked door makes me hesitant to waste any more time.
I also definitely don’t have time to call the cab driver that dropped me off and beg him to come back.
The fear and terror don’t give me time to doubt myself as I take my heels off, take off up the driveway, and pray I’m fast enough to escape the devil on my trail.
~Azriel~
“Get that goddamn door open,” I shout at Luca, who’s dripping wine all over the place and has a gash on his forehead from where little Elain Archeron shoved him down the stairs.
I almost fucking shot her in the head. Her.
Dolcezza mia. The girl I’m stupidly obsessed with. The one who’s always quick to smile–the same one who sighs when I kiss her and lights up when I walk into the room.
I almost shot her between those beautiful brown eyes, almost snuffed them out forever.
I run a hand over my face, listening to the sound of Luca throwing himself into the door repeatedly. “I’m trying, boss, but I think she pulled something in front of the door.”
Smart.
Fucking annoying as hell, but smart.
If I wasn’t so damn pissed at myself for not locking the basement door behind me and allowing her to find us down here, I’d be mildly impressed.
Two of the most dangerous men in Italy, trapped in the basement like idiots.
I pull up the app to track her phone–which was originally for her safety, not because I’m a complete stalker–and see that she’s on foot, going behind the houses instead of down the road. She probably thinks I’ll drive by her while she gets away right under my nose.
“Fuck,” I mutter, sending out a text to all my neighbors to tell them notto shoot the beautiful young woman trespassing through their properties. She has no idea the people around us have security systems better than the President’s. “Luca!”
“Working on it,” he grunts back.
“If that shit isn’t open in the next twenty seconds, you’re going in the incinerator after this asshole,” I warn, nudging the dead body on the floor with a boot.
The threat must work, because a second later, there’s a loud bang and the telltale sound of the workbench from my garage toppling over. “Got it!”
I storm up the stairs and tell him, “Run interference with the neighbors and local police. Anyone talks-”
“Got it,” he interrupts, grabbing his phone to start threatening people.
Pulling up the app again, I track the path she’s on, curse when I see she’s headed to the bus station about a mile from here, and take off after her.
Technically, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if she got away. She’d probably go to the police and tell them what she saw, not knowing that Marco, the deputy on duty, has been on my payroll since the day he passed the police entrance exam.
Having done her civic duty, she’d probably try to recover from the trauma of what she saw, eventually finish her classes and move on, and leave. Forgetting all about me in the process.
Technically, for her, this option would not be the worst thing in the world.
But in my head, it feels worse than being stabbed. In my head, there isn’t a question about it.
I’m going after her.
There’s this weird, itchy feeling in my chest I’ve never felt before as I run and run and try not to think about the look on her face as she saw the body fall to the floor.
I realize the feeling in my chest as panic, something I haven’t felt since I was a teenager getting booked for stealing my first car.
She knows.
She knows, and the look on her face… she looked at me like I’m a monster.
And fuck, maybe that’s true. Maybe I am beyond saving.
But having her look at me, and having her take away the easy smiles and bright eyes I’d grown strangely accustomed to… it feels like being robbed.
And it makes me panic.
So I’ll chase her, and catch her, and do whatever I have to do to get her back.
Because I needher, and damn if I’m going at this alone.
After a surprising amount of time, I see the thin outline of her off in the distance, sprinting like the devil himself is chasing her.
I take a deep breath and try to stay quiet, but it’s hopeless. Like she’s the one with the tracker on me, she can tell the second I’m close. I can see it from the way her shoulders go stiff and her pace increases.
“Elain!”
I call out again for her to stop, because I don’t want to tackle her and risk hurting her. She ignores me and keeps running, turning behind the coroner of one of my dealer’s house.
That sticky, awful, panicky feeling in my chest grows as she disappears from sight, and without thinking, I follow.
Which, if I had been thinking, I never would’ve done, because shit like this leaves you open to attack.
Which reminds me: I’ve now broken all three rules for this woman, because I don’t have a single weapon on me to defend us if something happens.
I hit the ground hard enough the wind rushes out of me and my stupid brain rattles around in my stupid skull.
Blinking through the blur, I look up to find Elain standing over me with an empty metal trashcan raised like a bat, ready to strike again.
I need to explain, need to talk to her, but all I can seem to say is her name.
“Elain,” I croak, trying to force air down my lungs.
As my vision clears, I notice she’s crying, beautiful face streaked with tears and dirt.
She pauses and looks at me, like the sight of me knocked on my ass hurts her just as much as it does me, then shakes her head to clear it.
She throws the trash can at me and turns to flee, but I know I can’t let her go, at least not like this. Grabbing her ankle, I yank her down to me, making sure she lands on me instead of the ground.
She screams, the sound scraping away another layer of the trust we’d built, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so desperate in my life. Elain flails around, but I use my weight to pin her, trying not to hurt her.
She has to let me explain. She hasto.
I hate what I’m about to do, but the only other option I have is making her pass out the old fashion way, which I know I could never bring myself to do.
The second the needle goes into her neck, she goes stiff underneath me, looking at me with wide, panicked eyes.
“You drugged me,” she sobs, the betrayal in her voice making my chest hurt.
I brush the hair off her face, press my forehead to hers, and start telling her things I haven’t told another living soul.
I’ll never hurt you.
I’m sorry.
~Elain~
Am I dead?
Why does it feel like I got hit by a bus?
Where am I?
These three questions rattle around in my brain at the same time, all demanding answers, as soon as I open my eyes.
And the weird part is… I don’t have any.
I have no idea if I’m alive or dead, but the headache I have that seems permanently settled behind my eyes points to the latter.
I blink the haze in my brain away and realize I’m at my house in bed, but my extend of knowledge seems to stop there.
There’s a voice in my head whispering something, but it’s too quiet for me to understand what she’s saying. All I know is that I feel like I need to dosomething, need to get out of here.
I rub my sore eyes and see there’s a note on the bedside table, written in precise, calm handwriting I recognize better than my own.
Come downstairs.
He’s here? I thought I went to his house, not the other way around.
The blinds are closed, but when I make my way to the window and peak out, I see a dark night sky, the moon reflecting off the water and making everything seen calm.
What the hell happened to me?
I start to leave the room, intent on going downstairs and asking Azriel that very question.
Except as I’m passing by my closet, I see something.
Something small and so inconsequential, I almost don’t think anything about it.
Like I’m in a dream, I feel myself walk over to the corner of the room. I feel my knees hit the floor, see my finger extend to the floor and touch the tiny drop of liquid that caught my eye.
I pull back and look, and somehow, I’m not surprised to see that it’s blood.
The floors are dark enough I shouldn’t have been able to see it from so far away, but it’s like a part of me was lookingfor it.
And that’s when it comes back to me.
Coming to surprise him, seeing the door in his garage, going downstairs… I press a hand to my mouth and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to fight the tidal wave of nausea washing over me.
I remember seeing the blood first and wondering if someone was hurt, then coming further into the room to find myself in the middle of a nightmare. If I wasn’t so strangely sure it had been real, I would think it was a horror movie.
The man strapped down had been so brutalized, I doubt I would’ve recognized him even if I’d known him my whole life.
I remember running without a thought more, giving into the fight or flight impulse to get the hell out of there.
I remember hitting Azriel, seeing him fall to the ground and looking up at me with those deep, wounded eyes that will haunt me more than the torture he inflicted on that poor man.
Eyes that told me everything and nothing at the same time.
I remember looking into those eyes and crying at the pain in them that was surely reflected in my own.
And then nothing.
Why don’t I remember? How did I get back here?
I’m sorry.
I finally recall that last whispered promise, and if I hadn’t already been sitting on the floor, I would’ve fallen to my knees as I realize what happened.
He drugged me.
Azriel, the same man who slow-danced with me in an empty restaurant and drove me along the coast and held me in his sleep, drugged me.
And he’s downstairs.
I start to hyperventilate, because I don’t know what to do or what he’splanning to do. Why is he still here?
What am I going to do? Should I call the cops?
I realize I don’t have my phone, probably a countermeasure on his part.
I also realize there’s no way for me to run. I remember how fast he’d caught me, how easy it had been for him to render me useless.
There’s no escaping him. Not if he’s already down there waiting, evil plan cooking in his mind.
I have no other option, unless I want to stay in this room for the rest of my life.
So with confidence I don’t feel, I walk downstairs.
I find him sitting at my breakfast table, leaning back casually and sipping a cup of coffee despite the late hour.
The moonlight clings to him like it loves him, playing off of his sharp cheekbones and illuminating his features. His face is carefully blank, but there’s a flicker of something as he looks at me, something that seems almost like relief.
He’s calm and collected and everything I’m not, and it pisses me off. My world’s on fire, yet he’s sitting here like nothing’s wrong? And he’s drinking my coffee?
I stomp over to grab the stolen drink, then sit across from him and cross my arms.
And wait.
Because I sure as hell am not talking first.
He stayed because hehas something to say. I don’t have anything to say to him.
For a long time, we just stare at each other, because he’s apparently playing by the same rules.
Then he accepts his defeat, sighs, and asks, “Why did you come to my house last night?”
I purse my lips, narrow my eyes, and try to stop myself from throwing the coffee in his face.
Because he said that almost like an accusation.
Like the problem is that I came over unannounced, not that he was torturingsomeone.
“I’m not justifying that with a response,” I eventually tell him.
He gives me a hard look. “Answer the question.”
Something about the entirely male way he demanded that, like he expects a response immediately, makes me tilt my head and ask so sweetly I almost choke, “Why? Are you going to torture me if I don’t?”
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, showing the first sign of imperfection I’ve ever seen from him. “What you saw-”
“Was horrifying, and I don’t want to talk about it.”
He acts like I didn’t even speak. “-was something I meant to keep private from you.”
I don’t tell him that’s pretty fucking obvious at this point.
Instead I ask, “Why?”
I’m not sure why I want to know, but it suddenly feels important.
He doesn’t takes his eyes off of me as he says, “Because you’re you.You shine so brightly it should be illegal, and you look at the world like it isn’t a terrible place. I didn’t want to take that from you.”
My throat feels uncomfortably tight all the sudden, but I clear it and say, “Well, you did.”
His jaw clenches, and he looks down. “I know. If I could go back and walk away, I would. Shit, I told myself I would more times than I can count. But I just… couldn’t. And I couldn’t tell you either. I wanted to, but I didn’t know how, Elain.”
The sound of my name on his lips makes my heart finally start beating again, but I still call him on his lie. “That isn’t why you never told me. You never told me because you knew I’d hate you the second you did.”
“Maybe,” he admits, looking back up at me. “But now you know, and I’m glad you do. You know everything now.”
It’s my turn to look down, because while I’d wanted to know the real him, I’d never imagined I’d find something like this.
“No, I don’t. I don’t know anything, because you haven’t explainedanything.”
He tilts his head. “What needs explaining?”
I ask the obvious question. “Who do you work for?”
“Myself.”
Once again, I don’t feel like justifying that with a response. He still isn’t saying anything that explains what I saw or why he’d do that to someone.
If he isn’t going to say anything meaningful, I’m not having this conversation.
Eventually, he seems to realize this. Because he says, “I’m Capo of the Sicilian Outfit of the Cosa Nostra, Elain.”
I bite my lip so hard I taste blood, trying to keep my emotions in check. I don’t know how to feel, other than confused and angry.
“Any other questions?”
“Why did you drug me?”
If he just wanted to talk, he could’ve dragged me back to his place or maybe just saythat. Not chase me down like a rapid animal.
“You were panicked, and I didn’t want to hurt you. I needed time to explain, needed to tell you this was never the plan.”
There’s something else there, and I narrow my eyes in a silent demand for him to continue.
Azriel sighs and admits, “My neighbors are business associates-” aka fellow criminals, “and I didn’t want them to hear you yelling and come to… investigate-” aka kill me, “or watch me get knocked unconscious by a twenty-four year old woman with a trash can.”
I give him a smug smile, more than ready to give him a repeat of that show, and try to decide what else to ask.
But before I get the chance, he says, “I don’t see why this changes anything.”
My mouth falls open.
He doesn’t see- is he serious? “You’re joking.”
“I’m not known for my humor.”
I’m still stunned into silence, so he tilts his head and asks, “Why does it matter? Why does what I do make me a different person?”
When I don’t answer, he says, “It doesn’t. Nothing I do will ever come near you. You won’t ever have to see it again. I promise.”
“It’s not about seeingit! It’s about knowing what you do when we’re not together. You kiss me goodbye, then go home and… there is absolutely no way I can go back to what we were doing before. You killedsomeone, Azriel.”
He straightens his cufflinks and shoots back, “He deserved it, Elain.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”
“First off, murder is illegal. So is torture, which from the way that man looked, you’d definitely been inflicting on him. Not only is it illegal, it’s wrong! He was an innocent human being-”
“He wasn’t innocent.”
I keep going. “You aren’t judge, jury, and executioner! You-”
He’s on me before I can finish, sliding a hand over my mouth and leaning over my chair.
God,the man is fast. Has he always been that fast, or have I just never noticed?
“Let me explain something to you, Elain. On this island, I am. I decide who’s guilty, which he confessed to being.I decide the punishment, which was a bullet to the brain. I’m the executioner, and I pull the trigger myself, because I’m not a fucking coward.”
I fight his hold, trying to push him away, but he doesn’t even budge.
“I play by different rules, bellissima. Just because you’ve never been exposed to them, or my world, doesn’t mean it hasn’t always existed. I’m the judge, jury, executioner, and the goddamn king.”
A shiver goes down my spine at his words.
He pushes my head back, forcing me to meet his eyes. “And it doesn’t matter.”
I shake my head, bite his finger, push at his chest. But it doesn’t do any good.
“It doesn’t matter, because like I said, we live in two different worlds. I’d never let mine impact yours.”
I want to tell him that isn’t the problem, but his hand is still on my mouth.
“Have you even asked yourself why you’re not afraid?” he asks out of the blue, surprising me.
I stare blankly at him, no longer fighting, waiting for whatever he’s about to say.
“You’re scared of what I do, but you aren’t scared of me. Not really. If you were, you never would’ve come down those stairs.”
That’s why he looked relieved, I realize. He was worried I’d be scared of him.
Everything he’s saying makes sense, which makes no sense at all.
Because if he’s right, and he certainly seems to think he is, it begs the question… why aren’t I scared of him?
He seems to see my ask myself that, because he answers it a second later.
Eyes growing softer, he murmurs, “It’s because you know I’d never hurt you, nor would I let anyone else.”
I remember him whispering that right before I passed out. I’ll never hurt you.
He comes so close I can see the individual flecks of green in his dark hazel eyes. “I may do terrible things, and I’d do terrible things for you, Elain, but I’d never do them toyou.”
“So you aren’t afraid. Just angry,” he concludes. Then he looks at me like he did the other day in the sea behind his house, right before he called me his. “Do you know why you’re angry, Elain?”
Currently, it’s because he’s explaining my emotions to me, which has to be the most male, obnoxious thing that’s ever happened in all of history.
But I have a feeling that isn’t what he’s talking about.
And I have another feeling that I’m not going to like what he’s about to say.
I take another glance at the look in his eyes and realize what he means, starting to fight again. I push at his chest and hands and try to get him to not say the words I know he’s going to.
It doesn’t work.
“You’re upset,” he says a moment later, slow and sure like always, “because I lied to you. You feel betrayed, like you don’t know me. But that isn’t why you’re angry.”
One hand on my face, the other in my hair, he holds me perfectly still as he whispers, “You’re angry because you were falling for me.”
I press my eyes closed, trying not to hear the words he’s saying as if that’ll make them any less true.
But it doesn’t, because they aretrue.
Every easy smile, midnight whisper, and lingering kiss he’s given me in the past month has given him a permanent place in my heart, and it hurts to have that all feel like a lie.
It hurts to look at him and not know if I recognize the person holding me.
A sob escapes me, which seems to confirm what he said, and he takes his hand off my mouth to wipe away a tear.
His brow comes to rest against mine, and I breathe him in, unable to stop myself.
There’s a war happening inside me, and it distracts me enough I don’t stop him from pulling me closer.
My heart plays me a montage of the past month, showing me countless moments where I’d been so positive I’d found paradise, so positive I’d found someone I could trust completely. It tells me Azriel has always felt like home,like something so inexplicably right I don’t even know how to describe it.
But my brain reminds me the hands cupping my cheeks softly are covered in blood and gunsmoke and victims’ tears. It tells me I’ve never really known the man I’m currently begging myself not to have feelings for.
The battle inside of me rages on, and I cry harder, not even knowing who I want to win.
It only gets harder to choose as he murmurs, “Ance io mi sto innamorando di te.”
I’m falling for you, too.
I don’t know what to do or feel or think, and I’m so helplessly confused it makes me want to scream.
Yet even though I’m confused, something about this makes sense. Something about knowing what he really does for a living makes everything in my head just click.
The way he’d redirect the conversation whenever I asked about his job. The way I’d always suspected him of hiding something about himself from me. The way every movement he’s ever made with me has been lined with restraint.
He could hurt me, has had the opportunity for months, but he never has. He’s always been careful with me, has always held and looked at me like I’m something precious to him.
My brain starts shifting to his side of the argument, and I can feel my morality ripping to shreds under his hands.
Before I can think, I shove him away, getting to my feet to point at the door. “Get out.You lied to me. You’re a murderer. A monster.”
Feelings or not, I know I can’t do this. I can’t just ignore what I saw, what he’ll continue to do. So he needs to leave.
He doesn’t.
Azriel just leans against the kitchen island counter and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it as he watches me for a long moment.
“Maybe I am,” he says eventually around a mouthful of smoke. “But just because I’m a monster, Elain, doesn’t mean I can’t give you what we both know you need. Nothing has to change.”
It already has.
“I don’t need anything from you.”
“No?”
“No.”
He prowls toward me, the intent shining so clear in his eyes I take a step back for every one he takes forward. My back hits a wall, and he traps me between it and himself, caging me in with strong arms.
The line between right and wrong, good and evil, seems to blur as he gets closer and closer, and by the time we’re sharing air, I don’t know which way is up. All I know is him.
He takes a deep inhale of his cigarette, tips my head back with his thumb, and then breathes the smoke into my mouth.
It should be disgusting, considering I don’t smoke and make it a point to avoid cancer-causing products in general.
It should be. But it isn’t.
It’s the opposite of disgusting.
There’s a buzz in my veins that has nothing to do with the nicotine, and I realize too late that he’sthe vice I can’t quit.
I’m too far gone, too addicted already.
He pulls back slightly, tucking the still-burningcigarette behind his ear. His eyes burn with intensity, and his dark hair and shoulders are surrounded by the smoke clinging to his shoulders like a shadow.
He looks like the villain of a movie I never even knew I wanted to watch, and it physically pains me to have him this close and not be touching him, so I put my hands on his chest, fingers fisting in the expensive material of his suit.
His are on the wall by my head, bracing himself as he leans in and slowly licks a line across my lower lip, like he’s tasting me.
My want for him is a tangible thing, and I have to ask myself if he’s right. Does it matter what he does, when he makes me feel like no one else ever has? Do I care enough to stay away from him?
“You don’t need me?” he asks again, so close his lips brush against mine.
I shake my head, even though I know it isn’t the truth. I doneed him, and that’s why this hurts so damn bad. Why this betrayal cuts so deep.
Even though we’re so close he’s nothing but a blur, I can feel his eyes on me, burning a hole through me.
And then he says something that changes everything.
“Well, I need you,” he whispers, so softly it breaks my heart.
I’m lost.
I’m so goddamn lost in him, I forget everything we were talking about, forget everything he’s done.
My knees go weak, and I cling to him, pulling him into me as I slip down the wall.
His lips crash against mine, and I know instantly that this is him.This is all of him. I finally know exactly who he is, and he doesn’t have to hide anymore.
It’s probably our hundredth kiss, but it feels like the first, and I’m drunk on it, drunk on him.
Hands in my hair, he kisses me like he wasn’t lying–like he needsme.
My hands pull tighter, until there’s not an inch between us, and he makes a low sound in his throat. His are on my waist, gripping me tightly and telling me he wants this just as much as I do.
The restraint from before is all but gone, and I tremble at how much power is in his grasp, how small and fragile it makes me feel in comparison.
My willpower crumples further, like a napkin in his fist, as his tongue teases mine, making me chase him for more.
Azriel pulls my lower lip between his teeth, pulling it between us as he draws back. It’ll be bruised tomorrow, but a sick part of me likes that he’s leaving his mark on me.
“Say it,” he say roughly, voice deep and scratchy with lust.
I don’t get a change to say it, or anything else, before he’s kissing me again, running his hands up my back and into my hair.
“Say it,” he demands again.
Maybe I’m not as lost as I thought, because I know what he wants but stay silent, refusing to give it to him.
Because I can’t.
Everything he said tonight makes sense, but I just… can’t.
He kisses me again, a lingering kiss that makes my chest ache, and almost pleads, “Say it, Elain. Say it doesn’t matter. Say you need me.”
The air grows thick as I stay silent, because it’s response enough.
His eyes narrow, and even though everything inside me begs me to, I don’t stop him as he steps away.
“Only two more months here, and you want to spend them lying to yourself?”
I hadn’t even thought about the fact that I’m leaving so soon, but I don’t let myself get distracted. “I’m not lying to anyone.”
Except it feels like I am.
A smile pulls on his lips, but it isn’t friendly. “You’re fucking lying, and you know it. You know it doesn’t matter, you just can’t admit it, because then you’d be like me.”
Heart pounding, I shake my head, but he keeps going. “Fucking a monsterwould becondoning the devil’s work, right?”
He takes a step in, catching my wrists as I try to push him back, pinning them above my head, and laughing.
“You saying you don’t want me is the most pathetic lie I’ve ever heard, carro.”
“Azriel-”
Mouth next to my ear, he growls, “You’re really telling me if I slip my hand between your pretty thighs, I won’t find you wet and ready for me?”
I push against his hands and look away, all the confirmation he needs.
He tsks, feigning disappointment.
I close my eyes and fight my response to him with everything I have. I try to tell myself it matters, that what he does disgusts me, but it doesn’t sound believable to even myself at this point.
“I could prove it to you, make you come right here and now, but I don’t think I will.”
I’m breathing heavily, two seconds from passing out at the intensity and violence in his voice.
“I think the next time I fuck you, Elain, you’re going to have to tell me you need me just as much as I need you. You’re going to tell me you want me, and you’re going to begme for more.” He licks up the side of my neck, and I press my lips together to hold in the moan that wants to escape. “You’re going to tell the goddamn truth, and you’re going to fucking apologize for lying to me in the first place.”
I glare at him, silently conveying that that will neverhappen.Helied to me. I’m not apologizing for shit.
He sees that and everything else in my gaze, and he shakes his head slowly.
“I’ll get your confession, Elain,” he promises, going to the door and almost ripping it off its hinges as he opens it. “I always do.”
Azriel being obsessed with Elain’s neck is the content I’m here for honestly.
“She halted, her breath catching in her throat.”
“He watched her swallow.”
“…she exposed her back, sweeping her hair up in one hand to bare her long creamy neck.”
“Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture.”
“Azriel’s fingers lingered at her nape, atop the first knob of her spine. Slowly, Elain pivoted into his touch. Until his palm lay flat against her neck.”
“He needed to know what the skin of her neck tasted like.”
“…his thumb sweeping in long strokes along the side of her throat.”
“He’d beg on his knees for a chance to taste it. But Azriel just stroked her neck again.”
“Azriel’s hand slid up her neck, burying it in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it.”
This man has an Elain neck fetish, and I am 100% here for it.
Hot fucking damn.
God I can’t wait ti see the neck worshipping
I needed to add more gifs to this because I’m here for the neck worshipping.
Just adding to the gifs because why not? Can’t wait for Elriel’s book to add more canon scenes to the list
Oh, is this going to become a thing? Because I’m so on board to just having a collect of “neck gifs” for Elriel.
just adding to this thread
Today is National Elriel Neck Fetish Day. We will be celebrating with gifs
This is the content I like to see on this hell site. This makes it all worth it.
I’ve been wanting an in depth fanart of this Elriel scene from the moment I read it. That iconic coloring book one comes close, but I just knew I wanted to honor the Elriel fandom & Captain Feyre herself with something worthy of the scene…I think this is it. I hope you love this one as it’s my first commission and done by sweetest artist @/carasalexandraon instagram. She listened to every wish I had and honored it beautifully. Give her some love on her page!
I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. The only bridge of connection … that knife.
The ideas for this week’s prompt were endless! But I knew I wanted to play with the foreshadowing of Elain becoming a spy! Also with the idea of light/dark and how they complement each other!
This stunning art was created by the incredible talented @emsdrawsthings
Emi! It has been an absolute dream and a pleasure to work with you! Your attention to detail is mesmerizing! I had so much fun playing with this idea with you so thank you so much for helping me bring this to life.
This theory was written in honor of #elrielmonth and combines prompts from weeks 1-3. Okay, so week 3 might be a stretch but gardening on a grander scale is proposed and I think it counts. Spoilers for other Sarah J. Maas series, including TOG and CC.
Two Secret-Keepers
Sarah has talked about planting secrets for the next ACOTAR book, so naturally my mind turns to our notorious secret-keepers: Azriel, the spymaster, and Elain, the seer. Both are, as Sarah explicitly points out for us, skilled in the art of uncovering and keeping secrets.
Feyre smiled. “Elain was the only one who guessed. She caught me vomiting two mornings in a row.” She nodded toward Azriel. “I think she’s got you beat for secret-keeping.”
Azriel’s got no shortage of lovers, though, don’t worry. He’s better at keeping them secret than we are, but … he has them.”
On a Forbidden Adventure
Not only are both matched in secrecy, but they are also forbidden from doing what they want.
“Then go off on adventures,” Nesta said. “Go drink and fuck strangers. Butstay away from the Cauldron.”
Rhys bared his teeth. “So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to the pleasure hall and pay for it, butstay away from her.”
But, you see, they have a tendency to challenge commands (even if that is a more recent development for Elain, I think it’s here to stay):
Elain remained in the doorway, her face pale but her expression harder than Nesta had ever seen it. “You do notdecide what I can and cannot do, Nesta.”
“Youcan’torderme to do that.”
I believe these parallels are designed to set up an adventure for Azriel and Elain that involve the sacred sister peaks. Both Feyre and Nesta have overcome challenges in these mountains, so it would make sense for our spymaster and seer to continue this trend with a different kind of mission that suits their powers: together, they can explore and unearth the forbiddensecretsthat lie beneath the sacred peaks.
Once again, @wingedblooms, your mind! I love the parallels you draw, and the way they all seem to flow perfectly, weaving in and out of each other.
Spoilers:for CC, TOG and ACOTAR books to date.
It seems interesting that the Middle is so frequently described with language that suggests it’s deVoid of life, when this sounds like a different sort of lifeform is present; perhaps one whose sustenance depends on the slow death of other beings, as you already suggested.
I had previously suggested that the mountains could not just contain underground palaces, but also be defunct or inactive portals to other worlds. What if the Middle is more than just a portal (UTM), but a possible former bastion of Hel in Prythian? Could the Illyrians have once guarded it, as well, before rejoining their people in what we currently know as the Night Court? Was this after they were confident that the placement of the Weaver, Koschei and the Bone Carver, in their respective prisons, would keep the portals drained and sealed?
“The Middle is a place where wild magic still dwells and thrives and feeds. We respect it as its own entity, and do not wish to provoke its wrath by revealing its mysteries.”
As an aside, “slow deaths” reminds me of Anneith from TOG. Anneith, whose consort was Hellas, who in turn could very likely have once held a throne in Hel, or perhaps presided over all (assuming they are truly dead). This is admittedly an extremely vague and obscure connection, but what if the Middle is not only where Elain and Azriel’s hypothetical adventure - or even Elain’s own “wanderings” that her inner Sight grants her - will take them, or her, as you suggested, but what if they will wake up, and perhaps provoke, the wrathful entity/entities who live there?
The question is, given that the Asteri/Daglan, death gods and Hel princes have all been associated with the Void… will these beings be friend or foe?
* I wrote this jetlagged, so please forgive me for any glaring errors.
Great points, @offtorivendell. I emphasized the more hopeful side of Elain and Azriel’s adventures in the sacred peaks, but I agree with you. I think there’s a reason an ancient council forbid others from discovering the mysteries of the Middle and it could lead to more danger. Or it could be, as we’ve discussed before, that the mysteries are keeping the portals hidden and therefore, Prythian safe from an Asteri invasion.
As you are well aware (haha), I’ve been a little obsessed with the connections between the sacred trio (particularly the Cauldron), Void, and Elain’s powers, so it struck me that the sister peaks are described similarly. And that rather than building palaces on top, the Daglan created underground palaces—maybe another indication, like you said, of their association with Hel and/or Void. They remind me of parasites, actually, with the way they drank power from the land, such as sacred spaces like Oorid and the peaks (where they ruled). Like leeches latching onto and consuming the lifeblood of the earth until it dies and they need to find another source to feed from (as with the Asteri). It would make sense that their palaces would bear the deepest scars of their presence.
And you know I have wondered about Hel’s intentions, even though they appear to be allies. Are they trying to remove competition for a coveted food source (power/life), or is it just an old debt they want to settle? I’d like to think the fae and princes of Hel can be permanent allies, but we shall have to see.
Regardless of what is hidden beneath those peaks, and particularly in the Middle, I think Elain and Azriel will need to merge their powers to uncover it. Their powers center on secrecy, so this role makes the most sense for them. And understanding the events of the past, in my mind, is the key to not only protecting themselves from Asteri invasion and oppression, but also fully healing the land and beings who depend upon it. That is why they are gilded with the dawn and will be pivotal players in creating a more hopeful future.
As it happened with last week’s prompt the ideas for this third week were endless! But I knew I wanted to play with the foreshadowing of Rosehall and all the moments Elriel had in the garden! So the idea of a relaxing picnic as the sun set came up!
This stunning art was created by the amazingly talented @emsdrawsthings
Emi! It is always an absolute dream and a pleasure to work with you! Your attention to detail in this Rosehall pice left me speechless! I had so much fun playing with this idea with you so thank you so much for helping me bring this to life.
I have a theory, so, for everyone who‘s read the book and Azriel‘s POV:
We know how Az is feeling towards Elain & we also know that his shadows were dancing around him, when he spoke to Gwyn.
When Az gave Gwyn’s gift to Clotho it said: „He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn‘s teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason… he could see it.“
And then: „But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly.“
I‘m just gonna point out that SJM said „glowed“ & „for whatever reason he could see it“.
So, I‘m assuming that - just like Elain has a mate - Azriel & Gwyn might be mates as well. And I‘m also thinking that Elriel might be the ship that SJM uses to show that you don’t have to be with your mate in order for you to be in love & happy. These two might be the ones not choosing the mating bond, but their love & affection for each other.
I’m getting her back. Even if I die while doing so. I don’t care. As long as I save her.
Azriel when Gwyn is kidnapped:
Let’s save Eris instead. She’s fine.
The thing that makes me laugh the most about the whole “gwynriel” argument is that, the whole Blood Rite situation happened after Solstice.
You know? Those three pages where people started to believe they’re mates and what not?…After the scene that everyone started shipping them because before that no one gave a damn?
So… if you’re argument is that they’re mates or that he might feel something for her, then his reaction was 100% hilarious compared to his reaction when Elain (a woman who’s mated to another male) got kidnapped. Also… the “Elain was a damsel in distress” blah blah is honestly stupid. First of all… Gwyn was saved by Nesta and Emerie.. she didn’t survive the Blood Rite alone. She was “training” for what? Three months?
Elain “the damsel in distress” who hated war…who had no training and never ever ever picked up a weapon.. ended up stabbing the King of Hybern. Yeah.. she did that. Alone.
Say you only ship Gwynriel because you hate Elain and pack it up.
Also.. friendly reminder… neither Elain nor Gwyn is a device to help “fix” Azriel. Or make him better… of softer.. or any of that bullshit.
It’s 2021…is about time you guys stop using female characters to fix men. Fuck that.
Also… I havent tagged neither Gwynriel or Gwyn so I dont know why you’ll coming to my post to make some dumbass comments.
Elriel shippers have been minding their own business for like 4 books… leave us alone, we like peace but we do know how to throw hands.
ACOTAR:I ship Feylin. Although I dont know Rhysand if I should hate you or not. You’re giving me mixed vibes.
ACOMAF:Never mind, I think I’m going with Feysand. And add a bit of Nessian. And hello Elriel… I see some glimpse there.
ACOWAR:Definitely Feysand…DEFINITELY NESSIAN.. and oh my.. that Elriel is fully blasting now but add some Elucien to spice it up. I can see it. Amren… I really like your vibe with Varian, he’s hot and I dig it.
ACOFAS:Jeez I’m so done with Feysand, cute.. but done. And oh gods how much Nessian hurt. Elucien… what are we even doing in here? Elriel… are you going for it or not!?
ACOSF: Alright.. Nessian I love you… you’re my forever otp. Jeez Elriel… we are doing this then. Wait… I see some glimpse of Moerie going on. Lucien, just say you like Vassa.. I see you. Elucien where are you? Gwynriel trying to come out.
The fandom ending up confused asf after Acosf.
Dear Sarah, if you thought we would be at peace now that half of the ships are done… then let me tell you something:
First of all… dont come at me with the “But Azriel’s shadows danced with Gwyn but they disappear when he’s with Elain” bullshit because let me tell you something:
HIS SHADOWS DO NOT LIKE THE LIGHT.
THEY DONT LIKE SUNLIGHT.
THEY TEND TO DISSAPEAR WHEN IS BRIGHT DAY.
Az said, his shadows lingering in the archway, as if fearful of the bright sunlight in the ring.
A shadow curled around Azriel’s neck, the only one brave enough to face the sunlight.
Because his shadows were born in the dark, in that dark cell when he was a kid.
Born in a lightless, airless prison meant to break him. Instead, he had learned its language.
In the centuries I’d known him, he’d said little about his life, those years in his father’s keep, locked in darkness. Perhaps the shadowsinger gift had come to him then, perhaps he’d taught himself the language of shadow and wind and stone.
But what was it one thing that he desperately needed when he was in that cell? More than his mother? More than a friend?
LIGHT
And who is always described as the sun? As the day? Who’s always described as full of light?
ELAIN
Why do his shadows disappear when he’s with Elain?
Because she’s the light he needs the most.
Because his shadows are not needed.
He doesn’t need to hide from her.
He doesn’t need his shadows to help him get through her company. To protect himself.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing on that face, on his scent. The shadows, whatever the hell they were, hid too well.
The shadows gathered around his shoulders, like they were indeed whispering to him, shielding him, perhaps.
And don’t get it twisted… his shadows might take some time off when he’s in her company but they are always ready to throw hands to protect Elain.
They’re always ready to strike, ready to help him protect her.
Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.
And this scene here makes me think she used Azriel’s shadows. There’s no more explanation.
Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”
Why Elain’s actions are always compared to Azriel or his shadows? Unless…… unless she might have her own and this is all foreshadowing.
“Don’t,” Elain said flatly, starting once more into a walk, veils of steam drifting past her shoulders from the roasted rosemary potatoes in her hands, as if they were Azriel’s shadows. “She won’t listen.”
And why Azriel’s shadows always try to hide his emotions when Elain’s is brought up?
“You and Nesta are wanted down there.” “Because of the shit with Elain?”
Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?”
Cassian waved a hand. “A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened.
Cassian blew out a breath. “I take that as a no regarding the meeting topic, then.”
“It’s about what I discovered. Rhys said he requires you both there.”
“It’s bad, then.” Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az.
“You all right?” His brother nodded. “Fine.” But shadows still swarmed him. Cassian knew it was a lie, but didn’t push it. Az would speak when he was ready, and Cassian would have better success convincing a mountain to move than getting Az to open up.
Not you all out there trying to convice yourself and others that these two are not endgame.
I get it but I also think it could go the other way w Gwyn. that his shadows are intrigued by her and want to get to know her, and that his shadows are an extension of him and how he feels (that’s pretty obvious simply by what you’ve laid out). it’s not like Sarah didn’t use very interesting if not particular language when describing Azriel’s shadows interacting with Gwyn. I really think it could go both ways. that maybe Elain and Az try out a relationship and realize they’re incompatible for whatever reason, or Az and Gwyn just develop a deep understanding of each other and grow to be close friends. either way, we can’t act like Sarah didn’t purposely throw us into a tailspin.
We still don’t know enough about Azriel’s shadows. for all we know, they don’t feel the need to be around Elain bc they don’t sense danger of the need to be alert and that’s why they leave, bc that’s what it seems like based on what you’ve laid out.
on the other hand, Sarah could go the route that Az’s shadows are always a part of him, always there, and that they feel as though they can simply exist when they’re around Gwyn. no need to strike, no need to be defensive, but coexist with Az and Gwyn in a state almost like serenity. I have quotes below to that show this. that maybe sometimes they do hide around Elain and it’s not a good thing bc his shadows are a part of him, and him being w Elain would almost be like him chasing a part of himself away. not necessarily saying I agree w that, just using it to say that Sarah can do damn near anything with Az and his shadows. at this point, she can make them out to mean anything, and we still don’t really know that much about them.
we also need to keep in mind that we have a lot about Azriel’s shadows vs. Elain bc we’ve had both characters over the course of a few books. Gwyn is a completely new character, newer even than Emerie, and this Az and Gwyn stuff is the newest of anything in the books, and yet we’ve already seen an honestly shocking amount regarding his shadows interacting w Gwyn just in the span of 3 pages alone. that can’t be ignored just bc Elain’s been around for much longer and has therefore had more opportunity to interact with Az’s shadows in the first place. it also can’t be ignored that his shadows interact w Gwyn in a way we’ve never seen them act before. it’s very peculiar. refusing to warn Az that Gwyn was there (he would’ve left if he had known, so maybe they WANTED him to speak to her, to see her. maybe they wanted to see her)
“He found it already occupied. His shadows had not warned him. It was too late to bank without appearing like he was running.”
and they interact in an almost childlike way with Gwyn…
“Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music.”
and before that,
“The young priestess smiled—and Azriel thought it might have been directed at his curious shadows.”
they’re curious, intrigued by her.
not only curious, but…
“Azriel dipped his head in a sketch of a bow, something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed. As if content to lounge on his shoulders and watch.”
But—sleep. He needed to at least attempt to get some.
hell, he had to deny his own shadows the desire to stay awake, when on the very first page of the deleted scene, they were asking him to…
Sleep, they seemed to whisper in his ear. Sleep.
And as Azriel left,
“he could have sworn a faint, beautiful singing followed him. Could have sworn his shadows sang in answer.”
throughout this WHOLE interaction, which was literally just 3 pages long, his shadows seem figuratively light. they’re shadows, literally, but they’re not defensive like usual, ready for a fight. they’re curious. they like Gwyn. they want to get to know her more.
not only that, but Nesta’s friendship bracelet, made by Emerie, was navy blue, crimson, and silver. crimson, the color of Cassian’s Siphons. we always hear blue and silver associated with Nesta, crimson was a new one, and clearly tied to Cassian.
what did Nesta pick for Gwyn? blue, white, and teal. blue, the color of Azriel’s Siphons. and before you’re tempted to say that blue is for her eyes, nope! Gwyn’s eyes are described as teal multiple times in the book, including in Az’s chapter. maybe you’re thinking the blue is for her stone she has as a priestess? could be, but maybe not! at first the the stone is described as just a blue stone, but then it’s described in such a way that
“Gwyn’s eyes matched her stone almost perfectly”
which, again, her eyes are def very teal. so it could be her Invoking Stone, OR it’s Azriel’s Siphons.
that’s ignoring all the laughing, smiling, and warmth Azriel felt with Gwyn. we’ve seen a greater range of emotion from Azriel with Gwyn in the span of 4 pages (where he was only directly interacting with her in 3) so far than we have with Elain (although that could be bc they share them more in private and we haven’t seen much of them in private).
we aren’t sure what his shadows mean with regards to Elain vs. Gwyn, especially since some people theorize that Gwyn is a lightsinger (like how Az is a shadowsinger) and that it would be “bad” for Az bc his shadows hide from the light.
however, if (according to Elriel shippers) Gwyn being a lightsinger would be bad for Az’s shadows, then this theory that Elain is the light that Azriel needs wouldn’t make any sense.
Basically, there are some VERY conflicting theories in the fandom. some say the light is good, some say the light is bad (for Az and his shadows). some say the shadows disappearing are good or bad, and some say the shadows dancing and taking an interest to Gwyn are good or bad.
Sarah can do some fun shit theory-wise with Az’s shadows, and I think we need to remember that. We also need to remember that she showed Azriel in a very imperfect light (no pun intended) in his chapter in a couple of ways. She’s priming him for an incredible amount of character development, so things can change very drastically in the next book.
All I’m saying is that there is a huge difference between the way Azriel’s shadows react with Gwyn and Elain, and they seem to really, really like Gwyn. it’s not nearly as clearcut as it seems with Elriel, NOT when Az’s shadows are acting very peculiarly with Gwyn - and not in a bad way.
editing to add: not only were his shadows described as “curious,” but Az notes that Gwyn seemed to recognize it. that she was smiling at them too, not just Az, or maybe even only at them. she seems kind to his shadows and she doesn’t even know them. it’s as if she respects them not simply as his shadows, but as Azriel’s friends, his companions, these things that are a part of him but also have a personality separate from Az.
I like your theory… and I raise it one bar:
Azriel is competitive as hell and he doesn’t like to lose. He doesn’t like to let things go easily and he fights until the last second to get what he wants.
“Whoever lands the next blow wins.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Az panted back. “We go until one of us eats dirt.”
Az had a vicious competitive streak. It wasn’t boastful and arrogant, the way Cassian knew he himself was prone to be, or possessive and terrifying like Amren’s. No, it was quiet and cruel and utterly lethal. Cassian had lost track of how many games they’d played over the centuries, with one of them certain of a win, only for Az to reveal some master strategy. Or how many games had been reduced to only Rhys and Az left standing, battling it out over cards or chess until the middle of the night, when Cassian and Mor had given up and and started drinking.
You think he would give up on Elain so easily? Considering how he has wanted her since day one? Considering he’s been in love with the same woman for the past 500yrs?
Would he fights for her and then realise that it wasn’t meant to be? Maybe.
Would the events on last solstice push Elain to Lucien thinking Azriel has rejected her? Maybe.
Would Azriel think that Elain has no interest in him anymore now that she has decided to give Lucien a chance and therefore pushing him into Gwyn direction? Maybe.
Could Elain and Lucien realise that the mating bond means nothing to them and therefore decide to be just friends? Maybe.
Could Azriel see Gwyn just like a little sister that he wants to protect? And maybe decide to stay as friends? Maybe.
Could Elain use her seer powers and get into a missions with Azriel and have them both airing up their misunderstandings from that night? Maybe.
The possibilities of where their story might headed are infinite.
But so far… I’m enjoying theorising and seeing the fandom burn.
I’ve been an Elriel shipper since the moment Azriel stepped into their home when they were human. When he smiled at seeing her cluth the fork so tight her knuckles turned white. When she honestly was thinking to stab Cassian with it. I loved Azriel’s reaction. And I’m weak for the Hades/Persephone vibes. They also give me strong Elide/Lorcan vibes (which is my only favourite couple in TOG series).
I like Elain and Azriel separately. But together they have such an amazing potential. I love Lucien but Elain is not the one for him. For the way he described Jesminda… she’s similar to Vassa and that’s the kind of personality he’s attracted to. I love Gwyn.. but I cant help to see her as a child, as a teenager that is just starting to know what life out of that library looks like. I think is unfair to push her into Azriel and his more than 500yrs of unresolved trauma. And I think he also sees her as a child, if Cassian’s first thought of her was Gwyn being a little girl… I have no doubts Azriel sees her that way too.
I’m not going to get involved in the AGE GROUP drama thing because I could be here for ages. Yes, she’s 28 and Elain 25… but Elain matured as human before turning into Fae. She was a grown ass woman about to be married and starting her own family. She was an adult. Gwyn is half High Fae, half nymph (which is considered lesser fae) and they mature later.
Yes… Rhysand’s mother was 19 when she was mated to his father. And again… she was just a child. Same as Mor when she was sold to Eris. You’re not helping your point.
Those three pages of them interacting gave me such a different vibe than romantically. I just see her as a child, she wants to learn things, she’s curious, she’s starting to have friends, to want to live. I think she admires Azriel because he saved her, because she can learn how to fight from him. But all I see is her meeting her hero, and Az feeling good about having a fan.
If Sjm decides to take another direction with their interactions then I’d get on with it… I’d think is a waste of such potential couple but at the end of the day… she’s the boss, she decides.
We’re here to enjoy! And I love conunter arguments! As long as we keep it respectful. I love debating and this is why I love these serie.
First of all… dont come at me with the “But Azriel’s shadows danced with Gwyn but they disappear when he’s with Elain” bullshit because let me tell you something:
HIS SHADOWS DO NOT LIKE THE LIGHT.
THEY DONT LIKE SUNLIGHT.
THEY TEND TO DISSAPEAR WHEN IS BRIGHT DAY.
Az said, his shadows lingering in the archway, as if fearful of the bright sunlight in the ring.
A shadow curled around Azriel’s neck, the only one brave enough to face the sunlight.
Because his shadows were born in the dark, in that dark cell when he was a kid.
Born in a lightless, airless prison meant to break him. Instead, he had learned its language.
In the centuries I’d known him, he’d said little about his life, those years in his father’s keep, locked in darkness. Perhaps the shadowsinger gift had come to him then, perhaps he’d taught himself the language of shadow and wind and stone.
But what was it one thing that he desperately needed when he was in that cell? More than his mother? More than a friend?
LIGHT
And who is always described as the sun? As the day? Who’s always described as full of light?
ELAIN
Why do his shadows disappear when he’s with Elain?
Because she’s the light he needs the most.
Because his shadows are not needed.
He doesn’t need to hide from her.
He doesn’t need his shadows to help him get through her company. To protect himself.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing on that face, on his scent. The shadows, whatever the hell they were, hid too well.
The shadows gathered around his shoulders, like they were indeed whispering to him, shielding him, perhaps.
And don’t get it twisted… his shadows might take some time off when he’s in her company but they are always ready to throw hands to protect Elain.
They’re always ready to strike, ready to help him protect her.
Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.
And this scene here makes me think she used Azriel’s shadows. There’s no more explanation.
Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”
Why Elain’s actions are always compared to Azriel or his shadows? Unless…… unless she might have her own and this is all foreshadowing.
“Don’t,” Elain said flatly, starting once more into a walk, veils of steam drifting past her shoulders from the roasted rosemary potatoes in her hands, as if they were Azriel’s shadows. “She won’t listen.”
And why Azriel’s shadows always try to hide his emotions when Elain’s is brought up?
“You and Nesta are wanted down there.” “Because of the shit with Elain?”
Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?”
Cassian waved a hand. “A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened.
Cassian blew out a breath. “I take that as a no regarding the meeting topic, then.”
“It’s about what I discovered. Rhys said he requires you both there.”
“It’s bad, then.” Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az.
“You all right?” His brother nodded. “Fine.” But shadows still swarmed him. Cassian knew it was a lie, but didn’t push it. Az would speak when he was ready, and Cassian would have better success convincing a mountain to move than getting Az to open up.
Not you all out there trying to convice yourself and others that these two are not endgame.
There’s something that people missed from Sjm interviews regarding Acosf timeline towards the rest of the books in the serie.
The reason we barely got any Elain, Azriel, Mor or even Lucien interactions or development in this book is because they’re meant to have their own stories which will be happening at the same time of the events that are happening in Acosf.
For example:
Mor spending huge amounts of time in the other continent, yet we dont get to know what she’s doing. That’s cause is left for her own part in the next books.
Lucien’s conversations with Feyre every time he visits Velaris and his shown annoyance at Julian and Vassa constantly fighting. We saw some glimpse from Cassian’s perspective but we’ll get full show once we get his side of the story. Same as how he really feel about Elain’s as his mate.
Elain and her secret rendezvous that she has going on…there’s loads of secrecy around her and we had loads of hints about her being stealthy.. could be that she’s secretly training with the twins.
Azriel and his job. Rhys and Feyre keep repeating that he has lots on his plate at the beginning of Acosf, so we should be able to get more insight into his missions and what’s really bothering him beyond his feelings for Elain.
We need to remember that from now on all acotar books will be stand alones that will cover one couple each.
My money is on:
Elain + Azriel
Lucien + Vassa
Mor + Emmerie
Eris + ??? (I honestly think Gwyn will have something to do with the Autumn Court)
The next books will either pick up where Acosf was left off and then fill the gaps with flashbacks or will explain from the start of Acosf.
But the second male, the more classically beautiful of the two … Even the light shied from the elegant planes of his face. With good reason. Beautiful, but near-unreadable.
He’d be the one to look out for—the knife in the dark.
Indeed, an obsidian-hilted hunting knife was sheathed at his thigh, its dark scabbard embossed with a line of silver runes I’d never seen before. Rhys said, “This is Azriel—my spymaster.” Not surprising. Some buried instinct had me checking that my mental shields were intact. Just in case.
Elain in Acowar:
Elainstepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neckas she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”
“Don’t,” Elain said flatly, starting once more into a walk, veils of steam drifting past her shoulders from the roasted rosemary potatoes in her hands, as if they were Azriel’s shadows. “She won’t listen.”
“You came,” Elain said behind her, and Nesta started, not having heard her sister approach. She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friends.
Not sure how many more evidences we can give of Elain becoming a spymaster in the future or having shadowsingers powers. Or Elriel happening. Like is so painfully clear.
“Do you deny that you separated a young couple who loved each other, exposing your friend to censure of the world for caprice and my sister to derision for disappointed hopes, involving them both in misery of the acutest kind?”
Shots are on me if Feyre says this to Rhys when she finds out he forbid Azriel to act on his feelings for Elain.
“How could you do it?”
“Because I believed your sister indifferent to him”
“Indifferent?”
“I watched them most carefully and realised his attachment was deeper than hers.”
“That’s because she’s shy.”
“Azriel too, is modest and was persuaded she didn’t feel strongly for him”.
“Because you suggested it.”
“I did it for his own good.”
“My sister hardly shows her true feelings to me.”
If book 5 doesn’t go along the lines of this when it comes to Eriel, then I dont want it.
I know this snippet is not exactly new but now that SJM confirmed that Azriel sings… it made me think a lot about this theory:
So in ACOMAF when the inner circle gets hold of the second half of the Book of the Breathing, said book starts singing some curious things. If you dont know what I’m talking about, here’s the little snipet:
Each line, each description relates to a sister:
Life and death and rebirth. Feyre after she died and was reborn as a Fae.
Sun and moon and dark. Nesta and her death powers.
Rot and bloom and bones. Elain, and the bones most definitely represent the fourth trove that links it with Koschei.
(“There was a fourth object in the vision, but it was in shadow—was there ever a fourth part of the Trove? All I could make out was a bit of ancient bone.”).
Lady of Night.Feyre
Princess of Decay.Nesta
Trembling Fawn. Elain
Sweet Thing. Mor
Fanged Beast. Rhysand
Love me. This represents Feysand. Rhysand’s biggest fear was that Feyre could never love him, and how they express their love but saying it to each other again and again because none of them ever thinks would be enough.
Touch me. This represents Nessian. They only managed to express their love through touching. Cassian and Nesta know how to express love through physical contact.
Sing me. This most definitely represents Elriel. We know now that Azriel sings. So what are the bets that it would link together at the end of their book? I mean.. is self explanatory at this point.
We know Elain will be linked to Koschei, I mean she was the one that found out about Vassa in the first place. We also saw how Azriel confronted Koschei.
How is it hard to believe that the next book wouldn’t be about Elriel!???!? Even if let’s say by some twist of the universe, SJM decides that they won’t end up as a couple, you cant deny they would be the main characters in the next book! Like come on now! All the clues are there!!
I guess I’m the only one who sees Gwyn being a best friend to Az.
Like she could become a little sister to him because she reminds him a lot to what happened to Mor so he would want to protect her. And what happened to his mother.
He’s the one who rescued her three years ago so he’s happy that she’s finally moving on from her nightmares and seeing her overcome her fears and become a warrior must make him feel proud of her.
But that’s all. I dont see them romantically involved. Everyone is making a big fuss because his shadows danced with her. Yes, they dance with everyone they’re curious about, we know that his shadows can sense people’s emotions and tell him who’s friend and who’s foe. Hence why he’s a goddamn spy.
His shadows act as an entire entity. They report to him, they whisper to him. They are his friends, his companion. Sometimes said shadows act as a buffer and he uses them quite a lot to hide his feelings and emotions. (Hence why he’s so good at playing card games). They always appear when he’s angry, or want to hide his feelings or he’s about to get into fighting mode.
Let’s remember that he wasnt born with them, but being in that dark cell during his childhood… they were born out of necessity. They were his sole companionship, the reason why he didnt go mad. The shadows helped to take care of him, to nurture him and I think they act as protector. They will always keep him company, specially when he feels alone.
I feel like Gwyn might be the friend that would make Azriel grow from his shadows… to make him realise he doesnt need them anymore and give him the realisation to fight for Elain.
Is funny because it’s mentioned all the time throughout the books how his shadows dont like bright sunlight, how they tend to disappear when light surrounds him.
“In the blinding sun off the turquoise water, his shadows were gone, his face stark and clear. More … human than I had ever seen him”.
“His shadows lingering in the archway, as if fearful of the bright sunlight in the ring”.
Also… Azriel’s shadows do show up in front of Elain. But they dont do it often because he doesnt need them when he’s with her.
“Shadows gathered around Azriel, Elain at his side, wide-eyes at the spymaster’s display.”
“I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulders. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of two.” (I dont think we talk about this scene enough. When Azriel gave her Truth-teller. Not just the fact he gave her his most priced dagger but how the picture of them together looked like).
Also… this little pearl here. During the last battle with Hybern, Rhys speech to the Inner Circle. Towards Cassian he said: “If I had not meet an Illyrian warrior-in-training, I would not have known the true depths of strength, of resilience, of honour and loyalty”. After reading ACOSF, we know that was the main theme of the book. We know now not only Cassian but also Nesta showed that to us.
And then he said to Azriel: “If I had not met a Shadowsinger, I would not have known that it is the family you make, not the one you are born into, that matters. I would not have known what it is to truly hope, even when the world tells you to despair.”
Which is funny because this is how Feyre describes Elain: “Elain had always been gentle and sweet —and I had considered it a different sort of strength. A better strength. To look at the hardness of the world and choose, over and over, to love, to be kind. She had been always so full of light.
“What now?” Elain mused. That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room.
Elain is not afraid of darkness or shadows. She works and is best friends with Nuala and Cerriden who also have their own darkness/shadows powers and use it wuite a lot in front of her.
Let’s also not forget that his shadows literally burned when he walked to Elain to wish her “Happy Solstice”.
“He still wore his Syphons atop either hand and shadows trailed his footsteps, curling like swirled embers, but there was little sign of the warrior otherwise.”
Not adding the little detail that Azriel has indeed kept for more than a year that little glass bottle Elain gifted him, without using it just so he could look at it every night before falling asleep.
Also.. he literally told Clotho, “If there’s another priestess here who might appreciate it, give it to them. But I’m not taking that necklace with me when I leave”. So he gave the necklace to Gwyn because he knew her more.. but he couldnt give two shits who the necklace ended up with as long as he didnt have to take it back.
Let’s talk about the necklace though. He gave her a necklace with a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible. A thing if secret, lovely beauty.” Am I the only one who thinks this describes him? That once he’s not under the darkness of his shadows, his true beauty would show up?
Also but excuse me… you dont go to that depht of detail for a gift just for a simple night stand. Just because you’re horny for someone.
And just in case you missed it:
Feyre painted little roses on her drawer.
Elain’s father gifted her a small rose carved since it was winter and she missed the flowers. Which Nesta found before the solstice events. Which makes me wonder if Azriel might have known of it and took inspiration by it. Or maybe not and it was his own mind working to find the the perfect gift.
Azriel’s book would be about his healing, his journey. How he overcome his guilt, his actions, his past events. And I have the feeling by the end of it, we will see a side of Azriel where he wont need to hold onto his shadows anymore, where he wont depend on them because he finally walked towards the light.
Would Elain help in his journey? Perhaps… I just find such coincidence the whole build up between them. How we had zero scenes between her and Lucien and yet we had all these breadcrumbs between Az and Elain.
When Azriel asked why the cauldron chose three sisters and two of his brothers are mated to them but yet the third was given to another.. I dont think he spoke like he was entitled to her. More like sad… and frustrated because if he was Elain’s mate.. they would have been together already. It would have been so much easier for him to take the mating bond and say “She’s my mate and no one cant say we can’t be together”.
I think it was sad because things never come easily for him… he always thinks he deserves nothing. But, wouldnt be just fucking great if Elain breaks the bond and chooses him!? That someone broke the most holy thing for faes and chose to love him, to be with him, CHOSE HIM above everything!? Instead of just giving him a mate, someone to just be thrown at him? I’d personally find that fascinating. That Elain chooses him. She didn’t accept him because he’s her mate. But she chooses him despise everything, she chooses to love him.
Elain’s mother said to Nesta “Elain shall wed for love and beauty, but you, my cunning little queen… You shall wed for conquest.” And I can’t erase from my mind that the first time she saw his hands she called them beautiful, the first time she heard him talking about flying, she called it beautiful. And when his POV talked about the necklace “A thing of secret, lovely beauty.”
So yes, I thought it made sense his claim. He loves her… from the moment he met her as human he was curious about her, he liked her company. This is Azriel we’re talking about, if he doesnt want to be there.. he won’t. If he doesn’t want to talk to you, he won’t. He doesnt give a shit about ranks and he doesn’t give a shit who you are.
We have seen from Acowar and Acofas how he gets annoyed at Lucien… and Greysen. He hates it and he try to stay away but he cant avoid it because he likes her. And he knows she likes him too which makes things worse.
With Mor it was easier.. he loved her but she didnt. So he never tried, he never confessed his feelings, he was happy to stay in the shadows and let his love burn.
With Elain is a different story. She wants him too, she cares about him, she likes to talk with him, to spend time together and she’s reciprocate his feelings so that makes the whole thing dangerous. Because he knows if he goes to her… she would be there waiting for him.
But unfortunately… Rhysand had said no. One on side I understand his motivations:
If Azriel killed Lucien, it would give ammunition to Beron to declare war, for Vassa and Jurian to break alliances but mostly.. if Helion finds out Lucien it’s his son and someone from the Night court killed him, he won’t hesitate to declare war. And we know Helion is somehow now Rhysand’s best friend. We know that only Feyre knows about Lucien true paternity.
However… as Rhysand like to always boast about.. I thought the Night Court was all about having choices. But it seems choices are only accepted when they benefit him.
So I gess we will see what happens on his book.
But please dont tell me all of this will be simple erased after one conversation with a stranger. Come on now.
People freaking out with Azriel’s thoughts of Elain like….baby, did you miss the memo where ACOTAR serie is turning into adult books?
Because if you didn’t get that hint with ACOSF, then I suggest you to get out of this train now because his book is going to be dirty, dirty, dirty.
The guy has been thirsting over Elain for over two years now. And I can bet you my soul that Elain is not as sweet and innocent as everyone thinks. Considering she has already slept with Greysen. You think she hasn’t thought of Azriel that way too?
I can tell you now, by the way she was turned on by Az… she has.
But we havent been in her head yet.
You all out there looking like clowns talking shit about a guy who has been into a woman for over two years and when he finally got the chance to be so close to her, to the point where she gave him permission to go ahead because she wanted it too, he let his imagination fly.
Cant wait to see you all after his book is out, clutching your pearls.
