Was bored at work so I wrote a little elriel fic just for fun! Not sure if I’ll add to it later or write anything else, but please lmk if you enjoy! 💗
Elain is unlike anyone Azriel had ever encountered. While subdued, her personality is absolutely radiant and magnetic. And if you didn’t pay attention, you’d miss it—the small quips that expose her true personality, the wittiness in her humor, and the unrelenting strength of her heart. But Azriel pays attention. He sees everything, especially when it comes to the doe-eyed dreamer.
Azriel couldn’t help but be drawn in by her gentle nature—her comforting presence. From the moment he saw her white-knuckled grip on her fork at their first meeting, he'd felt a shift. No, it was even before that. He remembers the ringing that echoed in his head shortly before, as he and Cassian first laid eyes upon Elain and Nesta. It had caused them to go utterly still. He had dismissed it then, still too captivated by his adolescent infatuation with Mor. But when Elain had asked him about flying with that innocent curiosity of hers, he couldn’t stop the words flowing from his mouth. She had that effect on people. One that compelled you to spout poetry just to make her smile. Or at least, for Azriel she did.
He can never stop his gaze from lingering on her whenever she is near. He noticed the way her smile always begins with a small tug on the right side of her lips, slowly blooming into a full grin that sucks the air right out of his chest, the way her eyes sparkle when she talks about her sisters or her garden plans, and the way a small crease appears in her brow any time she gets frustrated or concentrates. He has to fight the urge to plant a kiss there each time he sees it.
He often watches her from the second-story window as she toils in the garden. Her hands working the soil, Azriel’s eyes trace every delicate movement, every loving touch she places on her creations. He can’t help but feel the ghost of her soft touch on his skin that lingers from the times he led her out to that very same garden not long ago.
His eyes glance to his brutally scarred hands. She had once called them beautiful. He couldn’t understand what would make her believe such a thing, but a subtle heat warms his cheeks at the memory of her quiet affection, and he longs to take her hand in his once more.
The same longing comes calling when he catches glimpses of her baking in the kitchen with Nuala and Cerridwen. Clouds of flour forming in the air, he gazes at her hands kneading the dough, then slipping on oven mitts and softly placing her work in the hot oven.
He watches her decorate the various sweets and he notices how each time she finishes icing the last of a batch, she finally allows herself to take a taste. Azriel can’t tear his gaze away as she lifts her dainty fingers to her rosy lips, nor can he stop himself from imagining his tongue taking their place, from wanting that small taste of her.
Thanks for reading 🫰🏼 should I continue? 🤔