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Happy Free Day @azrielshadowsingerweek!! I've had this fic idea in my head for a while and decided to share it for the last day of Azriel week. It's heavily inspired by a few Friends episodes combined into one. Let me know what you think! Constructive criticism is always welcome. Negative and rude comments are not tolerated. 💙
My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics
My ao3 account: tswaney17
Trigger warnings: language
Word Count: 4,914
Elain wanted to just crawl under a rock and let the world go on without her. Because how did one move on when the man they loved was marrying somebody else? Every time she thought about the fact that her best friend, A.K.A. the love of her life, running off to the Illyrian Steppes tomorrow to marry his fiancé, she felt this pain in her chest, like a dagger was trying to puncture its way out and made it hard for her to breathe.
Her family ran around her to finalize their packing when said male stopped directly in her line of vision.
His warm, scarred palms gripped her upper arms, thumbs brushing over the exposed skin from her t-shirt. “I can’t believe you aren’t coming to my wedding.” Azriel’s face looked almost disappointed.
Well, that made two of them. Actually, she was far past disappointed.
She was devastated.
“I know, I’m sorry.” Elain wasn’t. Not sorry in the slightest. She couldn’t go watch him marry somebody else.
“Come to Illyria with us. Please? I want you there.”
His words cut her straight to the heart and she had to choke down the ache in her throat that threatened to make tears run down her cheeks. “I can’t.”
Those hazel eyes pleaded with her. “You can. I can’t not have my best friend at my wedding, El. Please come.”
Fuck him and trying to manipulate her with that comment. Elain pulled herself from his grasp. “I can’t. I have to work,” she said stubbornly.
Challenge flared on his face. “Call in sick. You’re only missing two days.”
The room went silent as their family watched their little interaction. Elain hated this the most. How he chose to do this in front of everyone else instead of in private. It was unlike him, to pick a time when the others were present and bring this conversation up. He must’ve thought he could convince her to come if she felt pressured to go with everyone observing.
It only made her double down on her reservations.
“No. I can’t just leave Ceriddwen and Nuala on their own. You know how my boss is. Besides, Feyre needs me. Rhys hates leaving her behind but she can’t fly at seven months pregnant. She needs me here.”
Elain saw the defeat pass over his expression.
Azriel sighed, eyes looking sad. “Fine. I’ll see you when I get back.” Seemingly without thought, he brushed his thumb over the apple of her cheek and then swept from the apartment like a shadow on the breeze.
Her face tingled from where he touched her and she felt every single pair of eyes branding on the back of her figure. Not able to take the sad looks, the pity of her family, Elain went into her bedroom without a word and silently clicked the door shut behind her. Only once she was securely inside did she let the tears fall as she wept for her broken heart.
~~~
Elain and Feyre ate the Cassian special—two pizzas—in silence, having already gone through the argument of if they should talk about that conversation with Azriel before he had left.
“I’m just saying, it seemed like it hurt him to not have you there,” Feyre queried, taking another slice of pizza from the box.
She scoffed. “Well, I guess we can’t all get what we want now, can we.”
Her sister blinked at the hostility. “What’s going on with you, Ellie?”
Fuck her, she didn’t want to talk about this. “Nothing.”
“Cut the bullshit. We had all thought that when Az told you that he loved you, you two—”
“When he what?” she cut her off, gaping.
Feyre blinked. “At your birthday last year. He was planning on telling you he loved you.” Her face went from realization to utter horror. “Oh my god, he didn’t tell you because you showed up with—”
“With Lucien,” Elain breathed, her stomach turning with nausea. The red-headed man had been nothing but a mistake that lasted five months. They weren’t compatible in the slightest romantic-wise, but they did make out to be good friends. “Azriel was going to tell me he loved me?”
“Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that. Oh my, he is going to kill me.” Feyre buried her face in her hands.
She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. Her heart was beating so fast she thought it might go into cardiac arrest. Azriel loved her. Was going to tell her he loved her. But he didn’t, because she had been so blindingly stupid. And by the time she ended things with Lucien, he had met her.
Gwyn.
A nice girl.
Nesta’s friend.
Elain had no real particular feelings for her. Other than the fact that she was marrying the man she loved.
And she needed to stop it.
She didn’t think, she just moved, running for her room and started throwing things into her bag. Clothes, undergarments, a dress, shoes, toiletries. Whatever she could find, she packed. Grabbing her passport, she emerged from her bedroom to a wide-eyed Feyre.
“What—where are you going?” she demanded.
“I have to tell him I love him,” she said determined as she made her way towards the door.
Her sister gaped. “Elain! He’s marrying somebody else! Somebody he loves! You can’t do this to him.”
She whirled. “He deserves to know!”
A very pregnant Feyre pushed herself off the couch and advanced on her. “What do you think is going to happen? That he’s going to end things with Gwyn? That he’ll tell you that he loves you too?”
“I’ll figure it out when I get there,” she told her, voice clouding with emotion. She had to do this. She had to tell him before it was too late.
Feyre’s eyes turned hard. “You’re just going to hurt him, Elain. You’re not a cruel person, but doing this, going there to tell him now…this is cruel.”
She felt the words like her sister had struck her. Tears welled in her eyes even as her heart told her she had to do this—had to see him. “I have avoided my heart for too long, Feyre. I’m finally going to listen to it. And you’re not going to stop me.”
Without another word, she slammed the apartment door behind her.
~~~
Elain found the temple on top of Mount Ramiel easily enough. She wasn’t expecting half of it to be crumbling like it was being torn down, but she disregarded that as she searched for Azriel.
She knew Feyre likely had called Rhys and told her she was on the way and that both he and Cassian would try and stop her in her endeavors to tell Azriel how she felt. So, as she made her way through the temple, she kept to the shadows, crept down the halls, and avoided anyone who would alert them to her presence.
But when she found him, all of her plans came to a screeching halt. Because there he was, in his tux looking as handsome as ever, hugging Gwyn in the middle of where the ceremony was going to take place.
Her stomach dropped at seeing the special, intimate moment between them, but she was frozen—couldn’t seem to get her feet to move, to turn around and leave before he saw her.
“Oh!” Gwyn seemed to realize what she was doing. “You aren’t supposed to see the bride in her wedding gown before the ceremony. It’s bad luck.”
Az chuckled, and gods, it was the sound she loved so much. It cut her straight to the heart, though it wasn’t nearly the same sound that Elain was able to pull from him. “I think we can call this the ‘first look’ and avoid that issue, can’t we?”
She reached out to touch his cheek, a soft smile playing on her lips. “I think that will work.” Her fingers brushed his jaw. “I’ll see you at the altar.” Gwyn strode for the door behind her, not having seen her.
Azriel watched her go, smiling before he turned and halted, mouth hanging open as he finally saw her standing there.
“Elain,” he breathed like he couldn’t believe it. “You’re here.”
She swallowed the horrid lump in her throat. Feyre had been right. This was a mistake. An awful, huge, horrendous mistake. “I am,” she choked out.
He took three long strides and swept her into his arms, hugging her like he hadn’t seen a more wonderful sight in years.
Her chest fractured. She shouldn’t have come. And now she couldn’t do anything but lie to his face. “I couldn’t miss my best friend getting married, now could I?” The words were like acid on her tongue. She wanted to take them back, tell him how she felt. But after seeing that moment with Gwyn, Elain knew she couldn’t. It was wrong. He was happy. And how could she be the one to break that?
So, she’d break hers instead.
But Azriel knew her better than she knew herself. His hazel eyes assessed her face, mouth drew into a frown. “Are you all right? You look upset.”
Damn him. “Fine.” She begged her lips to quirk up a bit. “Just jetlagged.”
It looked like he wanted to pick at it more, but somebody else called her name.
“Elain.” Pure, unrelenting command filled that voice.
They looked up to find Rhys staring at them, his eyes regarding their closeness carefully.
She knew what he was trying to figure out. If she had told Azriel the truth. So, she pulled back. “I’m going to freshen up before the ceremony. Don’t want to smell like an airplane on your big day. I’ll see you soon.” Elain left Azriel standing there and went towards her brother-in-law, who put his arm around her shoulder to guide her from the room.
Once out of earshot, he asked her, “Did you tell him?”
“No.”
Rhys let out a breath. “I’m sorry, Elain.”
Not wanting to talk about her failed love life, she kept her mouth shut and let her tears fall down her cheeks.
He escorted her to the groomsmen’s area so she could change and clean herself up. At the door was Cassian. He shot her a sympathetic smile—one she did not return. “Please keep him out," Elain requested before sequestering herself inside the room.
A half-hour later, she was sitting in her spot, watching Gwyn float down the aisle towards her future husband. She looked beautiful in her white gown, but Elain couldn’t help but think it should’ve been her walking down. That she should’ve been the one to be marrying Azriel. It killed her on the inside to see him marrying somebody else.
But he looked happy as he watched Gwyn approach. That was the only thing Elain ever wanted for him, knowing Azriel came from such a shitty life—a horrible childhood. He deserved to have that happiness. Even if it was with somebody else.
And it was time for her to make some happiness for herself.
She had yet to tell her family that a job opportunity had presented itself to her overseas. Elain hadn’t decided before, but now she had. She couldn’t be around Azriel anymore. Not with him married and likely to start a family soon. She needed a fresh start somewhere else. Where nobody knew who she was.
Elain would tell them when she returned home. She’d have to leave immediately—before he even got back. It was better this way. Perhaps now she’d be able to get over the pain of losing him. Could you technically lose something you’d never had?
“And now for the vows,” the minister announced. He turned towards Gwyn. “Gwyneth, repeat after me. ‘I Gwyneth, take you, Azriel, to be my lawful, wedded husband. In sickness and in health, until death parts us.’”
Gwyn repeated his words, teal eyes shining bright. She and Azriel were facing each other, though they had yet to touch. She thought it odd that they weren’t at least holding hands, but perhaps it was because Az disliked contact and hand-holding.
He really only ever let her touch his hands, now that she’d come to think of it.
Elain glanced at her sister, Nesta—Gwyn’s maid of honor. She looked so happy for her friend. Their other friend, Emerie a step behind her.
The minister then turned towards Azriel and began again.
Her heartbeat thumped wildly in her chest, against her throat. She thought she might get sick.
“Repeat after me. ‘I Azriel.’”
“I Azriel,” he said, midnight voice slithering over her bones.
“Take you, Gwyneth.”
“Take you, Elain.”
The entire room turned to ice as a deafening silence settled over them.
Elain’s blood roared in her ears, her breathing becoming unsteady. Did he—
Rhys and Cassian gaped at their brother, unsure of what to do.
Her stomach somersaulted. A mistake like that was so unlike Azriel. It had to do with her presence. She had fucked up coming here. Now, all she wanted was for the ground to completely swallow her whole.
Please don’t look at me. Please don’t look at me.
Elain chanted the mantra in her head, but it seemed like that only encouraged him to do it more. Because Azriel turned his head and locked eyes with her, pinning her on the spot. She felt several other sets warily turn in her direction, regarding her, judging her. Her face heated, but she kept her focus on him. Watched him watching her.
And then he turned back to Gwyn and slowly took a step back. To others, his face would’ve remained impassive, but Elain could read it perfectly.
It was panic.
No.
She royally fucked up. Tears were already streaming down her face when Nesta caught her eye. She looked torn between going to her sister in the crowd or staying put next to the one she stood beside.
Elain swallowed and realized, she couldn’t breathe. She had to get out before she began hyperventilating. Rising from her seat, she ignored the gasp from one of the other attendees and slipped out onto the aisle. She didn’t need to look back at the altar to know those hazel eyes were once again glued on her retreating figure. She felt them on her back the entire way as she excused herself from the temple, quickly grabbing her bag from where she left it in the groomsmen’s room, and fled, taking her shattered heart with her.
~~~~~
Azriel fucked up. Oh, gods, he had fucked up so badly. Not just in saying the wrong name at the altar, but in the many, many, many decisions he had made that got him to this point. He knew he had a choice to make.
No, that wasn’t true.
He had already made his choice when he saw Elain get up and walk out of that temple. His eyes flicked back to his fiancé, finding Gwyn watching him with a look of hurt on her face.
Gods, he was such a fucking asshole. But he had to end this.
Az took another small step back. “I’m so sorry, Gwyn.” And he meant it with every fiber of his being. “I’m sorry that I cannot give you my heart because it is not mine to give anymore.” Tears lined her teal eyes, but he steeled himself to get through this. He had to get out his apologies to her. Az owed her that much. “I gave it away a long time ago to somebody else, and I don’t think I realized that I never got it back. I don’t think she even realizes that she has it, but you don’t deserve to be with someone who cannot fully love you in the way that they should. And I am so sorry that I’m doing this to you now, that I didn’t figure this out before this very moment, but marrying you would be dishonest. I will always regret putting you through this because you deserve better than that. Better than me.”
Gwyn scoffed, wiping at the tears running down her face. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.” She shook her head. “But I’m not going to stop you from following your heart.” Her fingers wrapped around the ring on her left hand. Sliding it off, she held it out to him. “Here, take it.”
She dropped the ring into his scarred palm. “I really am sorry, Gwyn.”
“Just go, Azriel.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. Bolting down the aisle, he chased after the love of his life when he heard two sets of steps sounding behind him and then…
“Az!”
Whirling, he found Rhys and Cassian had followed him. “What?”
“Groomsmen’s room. That’s where she got ready and likely where she went to get her bag,” Rhys said, panting.
He was running. Running for her, hoping, praying, she didn’t slam the door in his face. He’d give anything to make it right with her. Gods, he should’ve just told her that night on her birthday that he loved her as he had planned, new boyfriend be damned. Az threw open the door to where he and his brothers had gotten ready and found it, empty.
Utterly and completely empty.
“Elain!” he called out in a panic. She had to be here. Where else could she have gone? His brothers followed him in, Cassian making a straight beeline to the window. “Elain, are you here?” he called out again, looking in the bathroom.
“Az!” Cassian hollered, his eyes wild with regret.
His stomach plummeted when he looked back at his brother and saw him point out the window. His gaze drifted out the glass and he saw her, golden-brown hair blowing in the breeze. She looked stunning in her pink dress, even with her back to him. But that the slump of her shoulders told him that she was upset.
And then he saw the absolute worst thing possible. A car pulled up in front of her and Elain climbed into the backseat.
“No. Elain!” he pounded a hand on the window, surprised it didn’t shatter under the force of his palm. His heart slammed against his ribcage as he took off running again. Down the hallway, he took the stairs two at a time, leaping the last four steps until he burst out into the courtyard of the temple only to find her car gone. “No, no, no! Fuck!” His hands slid into his hair, gripping the strands in frustration.
“Come on!” Cassian grabbed his shoulder. “I’ve got the rental car over here.”
His eyes widened. “Where are we going?”
His brother shook him in disbelief. “The airport, you dumbfuck! Where do you think? If you’re going to go after her and admit your feelings, you’re going to do it right. Now let’s go.”
They drove as fast as they could to the Illyrian international airport. After having to purchase three tickets to get through the gates, they managed to find the boarding plane for Velaris.
“I don’t see her,” he panicked. “Where is she?”
The three of them searched the crowd until they saw her short stature; golden-brown hair bobbing into the tunnel.
“Elain!” he shouted. “Elain!” Az ran over towards where she was, but she had disappeared out of sight. His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. He had missed her. He missed his chance.
Until Cassian cupped his mouth and bellowed, “EEEELLLLAAAIIINNNNNN!!!!!!”
He and Rhys turned to look at him incredulously.
“Dude, the fuck?” Rhys said.
But it worked, because there she was, standing at the entrance of the terminal. Her eyes were wide, shocked.
Az just moved towards her, like a moth to a flame. A magnet. A man under a spell. His feet ate up the ground between them in a few strides until she had to crane her neck back to look up at him. Those eyes—those incredibly, beautiful, doe eyes blinked at him.
“What,” she breathed, “What are you doing here?” she asked when he reached out and took her arm to gently move her out of the way of the other passengers.
He opened his mouth, a heavy breath heaving from his chest in a great whoosh. “El, I have been such a stupid male. A stupid, stupid male. Because I have been searching for the right person to share my life with and I’ve always known it should be you.” Her body started to shake, so he tightened his grip on her elbow. “You are my best friend, the one person I choose to seek out to spend time with. You bring me comfort and joy and happiness in a way I never imagined myself finding.” He brushed her hair behind her ear, let his knuckles graze her cheek, and then cupped the side of her face. “I love you, Elain. I am in love with you. Fuck, it’s always been you.”
Tears were flowing down her face. Shit, he made two women cry today. He really was an asshole. Her eyes flicked between his.
Az was able to read Elain well for most of the time that he had known her, but at that moment, that critical spot in time, he couldn’t. He couldn’t tell if it was hope or pain or happiness or anguish or anything else on her face. And the realization scared him to death because he didn’t know what to expect her to say.
“Azriel.”
Oh god, no. Not his full name. She may as well as stuck a dagger in his gut and left him to bleed out on the floor of the airport.
“What are you doing?” she asked, shaking her head.
He licked his lips, wetting them and giving himself a moment to process her question. “I came for you.”
“What about Gwyn?”
“It’s over between us, El.” She visibly flinched at the name. “Please, Elain. Please believe me when I tell you that I love you.”
A sob tore from her throat and she placed her palm on his chest. Had to feel his rapidly beating heart beneath her splayed fingers. “But would you have realized you loved me had I not shown up?”
“But you did, El, you did. I just needed that reminder—the wake-up call. I have always loved you, Elain. And I wanted to tell you—”
“On my birthday,” she frowned.
He gaped. “How did you…Feyre.” He sighed, more to himself. “Yes, I wanted to tell you on your birthday, but you showed up with Lucien and you looked happy with him. How could I ruin that when I only wanted you to be happy?” He stepped closer to her, crowding her until she avoided his gaze and looked down at their feet. “Why did you show up at my wedding, Elain?”
Her head snapped up, but she didn’t respond.
“What did you want to tell me before you caught me and Gwyn? I know you didn’t just decide to come.”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now.”
Like hell was he taking that for an answer. He took both her hands between his and squeezed them. “It matters to me. Tell me, Elain.”
Another shake of her head sent her hair swaying. “It doesn’t matter because I’m leaving Velaris.”
Every thought in his head went silent. The world around him stilled. “What?”
She swallowed. “I got a job offer for an amazing pastry place overseas and I’m taking it. I leave in a few days to meet with the owner.”
Final boarding call for flight 617 to Velaris.
Elain glanced over her shoulder at the open archway of the terminal.
Was she actually considering leaving? He tightened his grip on her hands. “Elain, please don’t get on that plane right now. We can fly home tomorrow. Together.” Azriel had a feeling if she left right now, she’d be gone before he got home.
She began trying to pull away. “I’m sorry, Az. I can’t do this. I—I just can’t. I’m sorry.” Her fingers slipped away and he stood there rooted on the spot as he watched her walk away from him.
He was too late.
~~~
The car ride back to the temple and then to the hotel had been brutal. Azriel said maybe three words to his brothers who had watched the whole interaction with Elain. Both had offered him their condolences like he’d lost a loved one. Which, he supposed he had. Arriving back at the temple made it even worse, especially when Nesta came up and shoved him.
“How dare you do this to them!” she screamed.
Cassian snatched her around the waist, but in all honesty, he’d love to have her just beat the shit out of him. Maybe that would’ve made him feel better.
“Nesta, not now,” Cassian stated.
“Not now?” she screeched. “Should I do it after I take the non-bride-to-be back to the hotel? And where is my sister?”
Az looked at the eldest Archeron. “She left.”
Realization donned her face. “Well, I hope you’re happy now, Azriel.” Turning on her heel, she left the three males out in the parking lot. He deserved her fury, he reminded himself. Az had hurt her friend and her sister. Nesta had every right to hate him.
Now in his hotel room alone, he nursed a glass of whiskey, his bowtie undone and hanging around his neck. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he turned it back on and waited for his notifications to come up.
And then one popped up that had his heart racing. A voicemail from Elain.
He sat up straight, set his glass and phone down on the table, and pressed the speaker button to play the recording.
Her beautiful voice filled the room.
“Hi, Az. It’s me. I just got back on the plane and I’m thinking about everything. I hated leaving things the way we did. You came to me saying all these things and I wasn’t expecting you to show up like that, and I was just afraid of getting hurt again. So, I fled, and I know I hurt you in the process. And I’m so sorry because that was never my intention.” She sniffed and gods, it hurt him to hear her upset again. “And I didn’t even get to tell you that I love you too. Because I do, I love you.”
He made a soft, pathetic sound. His throat ached with unshed tears and he had to tip his head back against the couch.
“I love you,” she said again. “I love you. What am I doing? I love you. I love you. I need to see you. I have to get off this plane.”
“Oh my god,” he breathed, looking down at his phone sitting on the tabletop. He heard some rummaging around and then—
“I have to get off this plane.”
“Ma’am sit down.”
“Miss, please. I just need to tell somebody that I love them.”
“I can’t let you off this plane.”
Az, in his own world, shouted, “Let her off the plane!”
“Please, you don’t understand!”
“Try to understand!” he cried.
“Oh, come on, miss! Isn’t there any way you can just let me off—”
The line went dead as the voicemail cut out. “No, no, no! Did she get off the plane?” He tapped his screen like it would hold all the answers.
“I got off the plane.”
He whirled around, and there she stood, keycard in hand. Azriel didn’t utter a sound. No, he just moved to her. His long legs swallowed up the space between them in a few strides until shoved the door behind her shut, cradled her gorgeous face between his scarred palms, and kissed her senselessly.
Elain melted, whimpering against his mouth. She dropped her bag and the keycard on the ground in favor of sliding her fingers into the hair at his nape, securing him to her.
His lips worshiped hers, tongue tracing the seam and begging for entry. When she granted him access, he took every advantage, sweeping in to claim her mouth. He kissed her until every thought eddied from either of them. Until they were panting for breath. Until he knew he conveyed every emotion, every feeling of his love for her into that single encounter with her.
She pulled back, resting her forehead on his. “I’m so sorry, Az. I’m sorry I left you there.”
He shushed her. “You’re here now. I’m sorry it took me so long to have the balls to tell you that I love you.”
Elain chuckled, eyes lined with tears. “We have a lot to figure out.”
“We will,” he told her earnestly, taking one of her hands from his neck and spreading her palm across his chest. “Together. Because I’m never letting you go again, Elain. I’m all in. If you’re moving overseas for a new job, then I’m going with you.”
She gaped at him. “What about your job?”
He shrugged. “I’ll get a new one. The point is, is that whatever and wherever life takes you, just know that I want to be right by your side. Forever.”
Elain let out a choked sound. “I love you, Azriel.”
His thumb stroked her cheek, wiping the tear that fell. “I love you too, Elain.” When he kissed her again, Az saw his entire future line up in front of him and finally, it felt right.
~~~~~~
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This chapter begins at the end of chapter 79 of ACOSF and immediately continues into the aftermath of Cassian’s conversation with Eris in the Hewn City, when Eris receives another visitor. Seven months later, Rhys calls Azriel to the war room in the middle of the night.
Fic Summary:
Like a cloak of heat and flame, the power of the Autumn Court settled on his shoulders. The air crackled and sparked as the very foundations of the Forest House trembled beneath the blood spattered boots of the new High Lord.
Eris Vanserra opened his eyes, expecting the world to be shrouded in fire. Instead he saw the Shadowsinger standing near the foot of the dais, wreathed in wisps of darkness. The Illyrian's green-bronze eyes glinted with curiosity and caution and flecks of burnished gold. Gold.
There was only gold. A golden thread spooled out of his chest towards the winged male. The one who'd been his sworn enemy for over five-hundred years. Rhysand's spymaster. The feared Shadowsinger. Azriel. His... mate.
[from chapter 2]
Read here on AO3 :) I hope you all enjoy Azris as much as I do.
Posting this for @azrielshadowsingerweek Free Day!
Warnings: Fluff, talks of building a sex room, sex toys, no one under the age of 18, swearing
Description: After being married for several years and having two beautiful girls Az and Elain decide they need to build themselves a sex room and turn to Day and Night Designs for help.
A/N: This is based on the Netflix show "How to Build a Sex Room". Some friends and I were talking and the idea was born. And this actually wasn't supposed to be the fic for the free day but it was the only one I could come up with an actual story for so I decided to use it.
@azrielshadowsingerweek
Ribbons. Rope. Chains. Oh my.
The way Azriel’s head was spinning as Emerie led him and Elain through the sex shop. Azriel had only been in a sex shop a handful of times before and those were back in his younger years. Now he was a father to two beautiful girls and hadn’t thought about coming to a place like this since he was in his twenties. Elain seemed equally as uncomfortable, but he could see the curiousness in her eyes as Emerie led them through the shop and showed them different vibrators, oral toys, and even furniture.
The pair had gone to Day and Night Designs a few weeks prior when they wanted to build themselves a sex room. After having two kids their sex life had diminished and their room just wasn’t cutting it anymore. One night when their girls were at a sleepover at their aunt and uncle’s house so Azriel and Elain could get some alone time for once. He had noticed Elain was fidgeting some as she cleaned the dishes and it seemed like she had something on her mind. He had always been able to read her better than anyone.
“What’s on your mind, El?” He had asked as he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.
There was nothing wrong with their marriage, both of them were happy and they were still touchy-feely with one another. Elain turned so that she could look him in the eyes and said, “What if we built a sex room?”
He had to admit that that was the last thing he had expected to hear out of her. “Like 50 Shades?”
She smacked his chest playfully, “I’m not saying we go full BDSM, but just a place where you and I can have some intimate alone time. The girls are getting old, they burst into our room less now. If there are nights when we want to sneak in a little adult time then either redoing our bedroom or turning part of the basement into a sex room would be perfect.”
“I gotta know, where did this idea come from?”
“Pinterest,” she admitted. “I was looking for some new room ideas for my office and apparently this is not an uncommon thing. I even found a design agency that specializes in these types of rooms.”
Azriel couldn’t lie his interest was piqued. “Okay, show me.”
Her eyes lit up and she rushed to get her computer, he smiled as he watched her go. The absolute excitement on his wife’s face warmed his heart. She returned a second later, her laptop already powering up. “We can do whatever suits our needs,” she began explaining. “Toys, furniture, the whole nine yards.”
She pulled up Pinterest and together they ran through the photos she had saved to a secret board and discussed what to do. Azriel liked the idea of putting in a secret room in the basement that was just meant for them. Something where they could hopefully be as loud as they needed and their girls wouldn’t hear.
Now they were in the sex shop and looking at bondage because Elain had admitted in one of her solo meetings with Emerie that she liked the thought of Azriel tying her up or even tying him up. She was currently fingering a pretty pink ribbon and usually, he hated the damn things, but he had to admit there was something exciting about the thought of what Elain would look like with them on.
He found he couldn’t wait to see her tied to the bed, ribbons artfully adorning her body.
Or maybe not a bed, who knew what was going into the room Emerie and Helion were designing for them, maybe it’d be a sofa, a chair, or even that St. Andrew’s cross that they had shown them when they had taken them to meet a dom a few weeks ago. Honestly, he didn’t care at this point all he wanted was to see her tied up, his fingers digging into her hips as he slowly started to tease her until she was begging for him to go harder.
He could already see her on a leather sofa, him buried between her thighs as she screamed his name in a way he hadn’t heard since the girls had been born. Maybe he’d tie her hands and tell her to keep them above her head–
Sweet Jesus, was it suddenly getting hot in here?
He had to get away from that train of thought so he didn’t become hard in public. But it was so hard to think straight when his wife was looking at everything like she couldn’t wait to try these things out with him later.
“Az?” Elain’s voice brought him back to the present and he looked at her, her cheeks were tinted pink as well, and he wondered if her mind had gone to similar places. “Would you like to pick out something you like?”
“Sure,” his voice was rough as he numbly walked forward trying to think of unsexy things. Rhys’s and Cassian’s bare asses, puppies, kittens, Elain in that cobalt thong – no, no wait that didn’t belong in unsexy things. Get it together, Azriel chastised himself.
“Emerie, could you give us a moment?” Elain asked with a polite smile. The two women shared a knowing look and Emerie said she was going to go looking for a few surprises for them. Elain took Azriel’s hand and asked, “You doing okay, sweetheart?”
“I feel like I’m a goddamn teenager again,” he muttered as he fingered a beautiful red rope.
Elain giggled, “I can tell.” He felt his cheeks heat. “It’s nice to know that I can turn you on in public,” her hand squeezed his. She stood on her toes and whispered, “Just think in a few weeks you get to use all this stuff on me.”
“Babe,” he groaned. “I’m going to need to be doused in cold water if you keep this up.”
“All right, all right,” she kissed his cheek. “Let’s go find Emerie and tell her what we want before heading out. This is the last thing on her and Helion’s agenda before they begin working on our room.”
They found Emerie and gave her the list of things they wouldn’t mind finding in their sex room before they went their separate ways. When they got home they still had a little bit of time before their girls got home and Azriel wasted no time giving Elain a little preview of what it would be like once their room was finished.
Several weeks passed and both Emerie and Helion appeared in Elain and Azriel’s home. The four of them were practically buzzing with excitement, the design duo ready to show off the room they had crafted while the married couple couldn’t wait to break it in. Helion clapped his hands together and said, “We built the two of you a relaxing space in your basement that is hidden and soundproof so your girls won’t accidentally wander in or hear the two of you when you want to engage in adult time. It’s relaxing and calming as you wanted with a few surprises as well.”
“Are you ready to see it?” Emerie asked.
“We are,” Elain said.
They headed downstairs and Helion and Emerie led them through the Murphy doors into their secret room. The walls were a pretty off-white with the boudoir photos Elain had taken as a surprise for Azriel. She was wearing various lingerie sets and was posed in coy ways like a 1950s boudoir photoshoot. There was a dresser in the corner on top were several of the toys they had picked out along with a pretty vase of peonies to add a pop of color.
Lamps and lights hanging from the wall cast a warm glow over the room giving it a relaxing vibe. There was even a small, crystal chandelier above them that caused little rainbows to dance across the room. Azriel was tempted to start sleeping down here with how cozy everything was. You could almost forget that it was a sex room.
“We added both a bed and a couch for whatever you’d like to do. Maybe a striptease the other watches while lounging on the couch, maybe you want a quickie and can’t make it to the bed,” Helion began. “We also added in the St. Andrew’s cross as well since the two of you showed interest in that.”
Emerie pointed to the wall closest to the bed, “I took the liberty of getting several types of ropes and ribbons. And in the dresser you will find lingerie, sensory toys, a few blindfolds, and anything you may need or a place to store any future toys. There are also speakers so that if you wish to listen to music you can connect your phones and listen to your playlist.”
Azriel couldn’t believe how beautiful the room was, how calming. When he had tried picturing what it would look like it certainly hadn’t been this. He looked at the duo and said, “Thank you for doing this for us, it’s perfect.”
Elain agreed with her husband, “It’s better than we could have imagined.”
Helion and Emerie were pleased that their clients were happy. “Our job here is done then,” Helion said. “We had a lot of fun doing this for the two of you and have fun.”
Emerie gave Elain a hug, “Let us know if there is ever anything else the two of you need from us.”
“We will,” Elain said as she and Azriel led them up the stairs and out of the house, waving as the pair pulled out of their driveway.
When they were gone Azriel pulled Elain into his arms and asked, “So what do you want to try first?”
“Why don’t we try out that ribbon, you seemed awfully interested in it that day in the sex shop,” Elain teased.
Azriel chuckled and picked Elain up, putting her over his shoulder as she let out a little squeal. “Maybe I’ll let you christen the room first and let you tie me up.”
She groaned, “Don’t tempt me with a good time.”
They made their way to their newest room and spent the next several hours christening it. A man of his word he let his wife tie him to the bed first and she went a step further and blindfolded him making him tense with anticipation as he felt her fingers trailing over different parts of his body. She took her time teasing him and it felt good knowing no one was going to interrupt them or that they could be as loud as they pleased.
They spent several long hours together, trying out the different toys and items Emerie and Helion had gotten for them and making mental notes of what they liked the best. That evening when they were making dinner Azriel snuck a peak at Elain and found she was staring off into space as she stirred the dough that would become biscuits, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. He went back to chopping his vegetables, grinning to himself as he tried to imagine what she was thinking about.
Unable to sleep, Gwyn goes to the training ring. She's not surprised to find Azriel already there. What does surprise her is that the Shadowsinger has stolen her favorite dagger for his own use.
You can read this Gwynriel drabble (just over 1k words) below or you can find it on AO3.
“It’s late, shouldn’t you be asleep?” Gwyn didn’t even slow her steps as she moved from the stairwell and crossed the training ring to the equipment chest. It’s like part of her knew he would be here, wanted him to be here.
Azriel kept his focus on the target, the moonlight highlighting the elegant plains of his face, intensifying his look of concentration. But he still took a moment to acknowledge her.
“I could say the same to you.” The dagger flew through the air, striking the dummy with a solid ‘thunk.’ Gwyn didn’t need to look to know it had struck true.
She shrugged in reply, as though to say it was of no concern to her, and then kneeled before the chest to search for her favorite dagger. If Azriel was taking target practice, she would too. If neither of them could sleep tonight, at least they could spend it with a kindred spirit.
Her favorite dagger isn’t where it should be. Gwyn frowned. She was certain she put it right there earlier. She combed the chest looking for it. There were plenty of daggers, but none were the one she wanted. The one that seemed to fit just right in her hand. The one that was weighted perfectly, helping her strike true more often than not. The one that…
“Looking for this?”
Gwyn turned and looked up to her left. Azriel feigned innocence as he held out the dagger in his hand, angling it just so for her inspection. And not just any dagger; her dagger.
“That’s my favorite dagger,” she told him. His mouth curled into a positive feline grin. She narrowed her eyes slightly. “But you knew that already.”
“I might have.” Azriel tossed the dagger up in the air. It flipped over twice before he caught the hilt in his waiting palm. He twisted it in his hand, so that the handle was pointing at her. Az bent slightly at the waist, in a sketch of a bow, and offered it to her.
Gwyn stood, eyes locked on his. She took a half step toward him, hand out to grasp the dagger he offered. But then she dropped her hand to his side and removed his dagger from the scabbard strapped there. Gwyn stepped away and to the side, bringing her prize with her, much to Az’s surprise.
Truth-Teller. The legendary blade was as dark as the night sky around them.
“Well played, Valkyrie,” Azriel praised. “The magic blade for the mundane; smart choice.”
Gwyn inspected the dagger: eyes and fingers running hungrily over the blade, the hilt. She openly admired it with wonder. “They say it always strikes true.”
Azriel modestly shrugged a shoulder. “It has never failed me.”
Holding her head high, Gwyn strode over to the target dummy. She blew out two long, steady breaths, taking aim at the dummy down range. As she released her third breath, she let Truth-Teller fly. The blade struck the wooden form dead center in the painted heart.
She turned to Azriel with a smirk. “Hasn’t failed me either.”
“Once. You threw it once, Berdara.” There was a hint of a laugh in his voice.
“Maybe I need to keep it then. Practice with it some more. Just to be sure.” Gwyn walked to the dummy in order to retrieve Truth Teller. Azriel’s hand closed over hers just as she grasped the hilt. Her eyes flew to his. She hadn’t seen him approaching; hadn’t been expecting him to touch her. They never touched, except for when it was absolutely necessary. She wasn’t expecting it. But she didn’t mind his touch. She wasn’t expecting that either.
Gwyn and Az were frozen in place in front of the dummy for the space of a few heartbeats. Then Azriel seemed to remember himself. He dropped his hand and stepped back. Gwyn acutely felt the loss of his scarred fingers against hers.
“That’s my favorite dagger,” he told her, slowly. As though he was surprised by his own impulsiveness.
She swallowed thickly, considering her next move. “I suppose it would be cruel to keep it. Seeing as you can’t sleep without it.”
Even though it was dark, Gwyn swore that a blush briefly crossed his cheeks before he offered her a crooked smile. “You remembered that?”
“I learned all sorts of fascinating things about you that evening, Shadowsinger. I’m not likely to forget any of them.” Gwyn punctuated this by pulling Truth-Teller free.
Azriel’s eyes searched hers. She wondered what he was looking for, if he would find it. She would gladly give him whatever answers he wanted, if he would only ask his questions.
“Dagger for a dagger then?” he offered at last.
Gwyn shook her head. “Dagger for a song.”
“You drive a hard bargain.” Azriel grinned. This might be the most she had ever seen him smile. “Did you have a particular song in mind?”
Gwyn handed Truth Teller back to him. Azriel sheathed it at his side immediately, patting it twice as though to reassure himself that it was there, it was safe. A comfort to every growing child. She bit her lip to keep from smiling at the memory.
“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
Azriel considered their bargain for a moment before he drew in a deep breath. His voice, normally low and almost flat, came to life as he sang. It rose, soared; it seemed to transport Gwyn to the stars themselves. It even seemed to extend to his shadows. The male before her allowed his soul out to play.
She wondered how long it had been since he last sang. If he had been alone then, or had he an audience. If his brothers, Cassian and Rhys, had ever heard him. But then Gwyn realized her time would be better spent listening, experiencing, and savoring rather than wondering.
Her eyes slipped closed as Azriel’s song seeped into her at last, her soul finally succumbing to its spell. And there, in the training ring, as Azriel sang, something sparked inside Gwyn’s chest. It glowed deep inside her heart, nurtured by his song.
I need a scene where Azriel and Lucien are in the same room (before we get any broken bonds). Then Elain sees Azriel and runs straight into his arms. In front of everyone. Ugh I NEED this to happen. I need this not only for Elain, but for Azriel.
Ash arrows rained down but he somehow managed to use the reserves in his siphons to shield him and Lucien as they ran. Whoever gave them away in the Autumn Court would die.
Slowly.
Painfully.
By the blade of the dagger strapped to his thigh.
But he’d deal with that later. Because right now, he just needed to get him and Lucien back to Velaris. “We’ve got to get out of here,” he barked out as they tore through the trees. Branches bit at their skin and clothes.
Lucien’s head snapped in his direction. “And how do you want to do that while we’re being fired upon, shadowsinger?” he panted.
Azriel bit back his retort as he edged closer to the Autumn Lord and grabbed him by the forearm. Mustering as much power as he could, he pulled them both into the shadows, the winds tearing at their bodies and faces until they landed on the terrace of Rhys and Feyre’s estate.
“Fucking hell. I’ll never get used to that,” Lucien muttered.
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, we didn’t have time for you to winnow forty times across Prythian.”
The other male snarled at the insult. Their relationship was tenuous at best, especially given the fact that Azriel was in love with Lucien’s mate and the redhead had no idea.
Entering the sitting room, they were ambushed by his High Lord and Lady. Azriel launched into a quick debrief when he heard her feet—knew she made it purposeful. Elain could be silent when she wanted to be.
The door was thrown open and there she was. Beautiful as he remembered with golden-brown hair and stunning doe eyes. Eyes that swept over his form and took in every bump, scrape, and bruise on his skin. She marked everything, noting what she would need to apply a salve to later.
His possessive side warmed at the fact that she didn’t even bother glancing at the other male in the room.
A sound came out of her and then she was running right for him.
Azriel caught her; barely managed to throw his wings out, knocking a vase off a shelf in his attempt to steady them as she launched into his arms, legs around his waist, hands sliding around his shoulders to secure herself to him.
“You’re home,” she cried into his neck, her tears dampening his skin.
He gripped her under one thigh, the other around her back as he buried his face into her hair to inhale her luscious honey and jasmine scent. Azriel didn’t care that they had an audience, or that nobody knew of their relationship. He only cared about his girl. His love in his arms right now. “I’m home,” he murmured.
A scoff broke through his happiness and he turned to find Lucien staring at him. “Well, that’s one way to tell me you’re sleeping with her.”
Az snarled, tightening his grip on Elain’s thigh. She clung tightly to him as his shadows swirled around them protectively. He’d fight like hell if it came down to it. Both her mate and his brother who was glaring at him.
But Lucien just waved a hand. “Relax. I could smell the jasmine on you and was just waiting for you to tell me.” He nodded at the Shadowsinger. “I’m sure you can give them the details of the mission for now. I’d like to bathe first.” His attention fixed on Elain and Azriel couldn’t help but flex his wings—peacocking as she so politely called it. A small, known smile crept on Lucien’s face. “We’ll talk later, Elain.” Without another word, he strode from the room.
He didn’t dare look at his brother, not wanting to have that conversation tonight. But he could feel his gaze like a brand on his skin.
Feyre, sensing the shift in the mood, grabbed Rhys by the arm. “We’ll let you two get reacquainted. We can discuss tomorrow.”
After dragging an unwilling High Lord from the room, they were finally alone. “I missed you,” Elain whispered burrowing further into his embrace.
He softly smiled. “I missed you, too.” Kissing her deeply, Azriel realized that when he was with Elain, he never felt more at home.
@azrielshadowsingerweek Day 6: Wishes for the Future
Ribbon & Rocks finds Azriel post-canon working with Gwyn on the final item on the list of all the mistakes the Valkyries had made during the Blood Rite. You can find this drabble (just over 1k words) on AO3 or you can keep reading below!
Cassian had suggested they draw straws, and while Azriel had rolled his eyes at the time, he was starting to think that he shouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss the idea.
They had made a list of all the mistakes the Valkyries had made during the Blood Rite. Gwyn, in particular, seemed to be offended by the sheer length of it, and had wanted to argue several of the points. But Azriel had refused to budge. Just as he refused to admit how scared he had been during the Rite. Scared for her.
The list was a good thing; it was designed to show the females what to correct, what to learn, what to improve if they wanted to be true Valkyries, true warriors. Azriel knew that he and Cassian had trained them well, but there was always something else, some skill they could share, some knowledge they could pass on. Because you never knew what little thing might stand between you and death.
The final item on the list was wilderness survival training. How to navigate across terrain and live off the land. Cassian had suggested flying the females into the Illyrian steeps one by one, supplying them with nothing more than a knife, and letting them find their way back to Windhaven. One of them would follow and observe. No interference was allowed.
Azriel felt that Cassian shouldn’t accompany Nesta, given their mating bond. Azriel would be the one to follow her while Cassian took Emerie on a different day. That only left Gwyn. Azriel wanted to be the one to take her into the wilderness. He had to. It was the only way he wouldn’t worry. But he was wary of showing his hand to Cassian.
So, when Cassian had suggested drawing straws to see who was stuck with the opinionated, stubborn, determined Priestess, Azriel had waived him off. Pretending to be a martyr, pretending to take one for the team, Azriel had agreed to accompany Gwyn. But in reality, he was relieved. He wouldn’t have to worry about her. He wouldn’t be stuck on the outside again, wondering if she was safe. He wouldn’t have to feel helpless, like he had during the Rite.
Azriel hadn’t felt helplessness like that since he had been a child. His fear for Gwyn had been like a vice around his soul, squeezing and squeezing, until he was sure his heart was about to burst. His mind had raced and his shadows had given him no peace. Gwyn, there had only been thoughts of Gwyn. He knew she wasn’t weak. He knew she wouldn’t fail. Unfortunately, none of that knowledge soothed his fears at the time.
But now, that he was actually out here in the woods with her, Azriel was beginning to think they should have drawn straws. Because Gwyn seemed determined not to take the lesson seriously.
“You don’t have to walk behind me you know,” she called over her shoulder to him.
“Just imagine that I’m not here.”
“That’s a little difficult to do with your shadows hovering.”
Azriel hadn’t been able to get them to stay with him today. They seemed to prefer her company to his. Not that he blamed them. He’d rather be with her rather than pretending to be invisible.
“Come walk beside me,” Gwyn offers.
“This isn’t a date, Berdara.” More a reminder for him than her.
“I’m not asking to hold your hand, Shadowsinger,” she counters. “I just think it’s silly to pretend that I’m alone when clearly I’m not.”
Azriel lets out a little sigh. “If I walk with you, will you promise to behave?”
“Cross my heart.”
Gwyn pauses to let Azriel catch up. Crouching down as she waits; she picks up a few small rocks from the forest floor and slips them into her pocket. She straightens up as he draws alongside of her.
"Much better," she observes approvingly. “Now, what’s next in this diabolical test of yours?”
“I don’t have any tricks up my sleeve. I’m just here to watch as you walk back to Windhaven. To make sure you can find your way, that you can locate food and water, and that you can build a shelter and a fire.”
“Or is that what you just want me to think?” Gwyn offers him an irreverent wink before she begins walking again.
They fall into silence now that they are walking side-by-side. After a while, Gwyn reaches up to untie the white Valkyrie ribbon she is wearing around her head. Using her knife, she cuts it in half, and then pockets it. Azriel wonders why but doesn’t ask, reminding himself that he is here to observe only.
A short distance on, Gwyn stops at the top of a small rise. Leaning down, she plants her booted foot on top of a rock and uses her knife to remove the top portion of the leather from the tongue. She pokes two holes on opposite edges with the tip of the blade before stowing it back in the sheath. Next, Gwyn takes the two lengths of ribbon from her pocket. Humming, she threads one through the hole she just made and ties it off. Then she does the same on the other side with the other half before tying a loop in the end of the ribbon.
Azriel wants to complement her on her ingenuity, but Gwyn walks on, down the hill, eyes on the trees, seemingly ignoring his existence. She’s still humming to herself. Azriel’s shadows pick up her song and join in. Then suddenly, she stops.
“What are–“
She promptly shushes Azriel. Slowly reaching into her pocket, Gwyn retrieves one of the rocks she picked up earlier. She places it into the small pouch made by the piece of leather. Then, slipping the loop of ribbon over her finger and holding tight to the other end, Gwyn steps forward and begins swinging the rock over her head. Her slingshot propels the rock high up into the trees, where is strikes a squirrel. The furry creature falls to the forest floor, dead.
“One task down. Four to go,” Gwyn says with glee. “I look forward to claiming my prize, Shadowsinger.”
“Gwyn, this isn’t a competition. And there isn’t a prize.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” And as she walks away to retrieve the squirrel, Azriel is suddenly glad that they didn’t draw straws after all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@azrielshadowsingerweek @vikingmagic33 (thanks for the killer title card bestie!) @hlizr50 @mystical-blaise @booknerd87 @ofduskanddreams @damedechance
My wishes for the future are that Azriel is able to find peace for himself. The poor man has just been going nonstop for centuries. I just want him to be able to be fully himself with everyone and not feel like he needs to hide certain aspects of himself. Az is very closed off and I can understand why. I would like to see the brooding man soften, maybe those headaches he always seems to have will finally ease up and leave him be. Maybe he can take less responsibility and train a new generation so that he can spend more time with those that he loves. I just want him to be able to have some form of peace and stability in his life that he may not have at this current moment in the series.
request! for the secret dating au heheheheh: elain finding her dream engagement ring on pinterest and showing it to azriel as a joke (or him seeing it on accident) and then him proposing with it months later 🥰🥰🥰?????
Thank you so much for sending this prompt! I hope you like where I took it, and I think it fits in nicely for day six of Azriel Week: wishes for the future 🥰
~
Azriel cracked open his eyes slowly, letting them gradually adjust to the buttery morning light streaming in from behind his blinds. Instinctively reaching out in the direction he knew his girlfriend would be, his fingers explored the rumpled sheets, the stirring in his chest settling contentedly as he finally located her smooth curves. Grazing his palm along her waist, yearning for the contact of her skin in the morning, he tugged her body across the sheets toward him. Rolling onto his side, he wound his thick arms around her middle, enveloping her snuggly into the cradle of his chest.
Elain’s hair was a wild tangle of curls, her thick mane tickling his face as he buried himself deeper in the golden tresses, breathing her familiar jasmine shampoo into his lungs.
“Morning, peanut butt,” Azriel murmured sleepily.
Elain, snorted at the nickname. Always with the ridiculous nicknames. “Morning, water weasel,” she replied.
Azriel huffed a laugh, his breath warm on her neck. “Water weasel?”
“Ahuh, I like them. They zoom about, making everything wet,” she answered slyly, distractedly scrolling through her phone.
A wicked grin bloomed across his face. “They sure do…” Azriel purred, his hands spreading low on her belly as he pulled her body more solidly into his front.
Elain shook with silent laughter.
“Mmm what are you looking at so early in the morning,” he croaked, his voice still warming up.
“Just scrolling the socials.”
“Oh yeah? Anything interesting?”
“Feyre and Rhys just got to Paris.”
Azriel hummed absentmindedly behind her, his hands exploring the soft skin of her belly beneath the oversized t-shirt she wore to bed. One of his.
He gazed over her slim shoulder as Elain closed out of Instagram and opened Pinterest. Heavy-lidded hazel eyes inattentively watched as she scrolled around, pinning a few images to her collections, as he continued lazily stroking at her curves.
A few moments of comfortable silence passed before he heard a little involuntary gasp escape her lips. Glancing at her screen to see what had caught her attention, he noticed she had come across the image of an engagement ring.
It was simple. Elegant and understated, just like Elain. It had a light, rose gold band, so fine and dainty that he knew it would look perfect on her elegant finger. And crowned in the middle, was a single, solitaire oval diamond.
Hovering over it for a moment, her finger lingering at the edge of the screen, he watched her pause before eventually scrolling past.
Curious, Azriel asked, “Not worthy of your standards?”
“Hmm?” She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, not realising that he had been viewing her screen too.
“The ring,” he nodded toward her phone. “You didn’t like it?”
“No, it’s not that. It was absolutely stunning.”
“Why no little red heart then?”
She laughed, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “Oh, no reason. I just… don’t really let myself think about that stuff.”
Azriel pressed a quick kiss to her shoulder blade. “What stuff?”
“You know. Engagement rings, marriage…”
“You don’t want to get married?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just… don’t need it. I mean sure, the idea of promising yourself to one person forever and wearing a beautiful ring as a symbol of that vow is nice and all… but I’d rather have someone’s complete trust and loyalty, regardless of a piece of jewellery.”
He knew Elain came from a somewhat unconventional family. Her own parents’ marriage hadn’t been a particularly healthy one, and as a result, marriage wasn’t a constitution any of the Archeron girls seemed to be particularly concerned with. Having spent considerable time with Elain and her sisters since Rhys had introduced them, it seemed evident that the scars of their parents’ ineptitude had left each of their daughters with slightly varying desires within their own lives.
“What if you were offered both?”
A little huff of a chuckle left her throat. “Well, that’s best-case scenario now, isn’t it?”
Azriel hummed again, his hands now roving down to explore the soft flesh of her hips and thighs, his scars scraping deliciously along her creamy skin. She was always so soft in his arms, so perfectly warm and welcoming. Her body melding seamlessly against his, ensuring they fit together like two halves of a whole.
Trying to ignore his thundering heart and appear as nonchalant as possible, he asked, “If I asked you to marry me, would you say yes?”
He’d decided long ago that he was going to marry this girl. This smart, wickedly funny, kind-hearted girl. He’d be an absolute idiot not to. He just needed to find the perfect moment to give her the ring. The one that was currently hidden deep in his underwear drawer, almost identical to the one she had gasped over just moments before. He’d purchased it not long ago, having commissioned a jeweller to custom make the perfect ring he thought would feel like Elain. She deserved something that was truly hers. That fit her personality perfectly.
Initially, he’d had absolutely no idea there was so much to consider when it came to diamonds. But he’d become a damn near expert throughout the process. Apparently, the weight of carats wasn’t nearly as important as the clarity grade and colour rating. Never in his life would he have thought that he would care so much about jewellery or designing the perfect piece to gift the woman he loved. But, throughout the process, he’d realised that creating something that may seem ordinary, but have the true depth of its beauty revealed if you knew where to look, was exactly what Elain would appreciate. A thing of secret, lovely beauty.
He wasn’t in a rush to marry her, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was only ever going to be Elain for him. So, he had gone and put plans in place, so when the time came, he could make it happen.
Elain chuckled, thinking nothing of his question. They hadn’t even been dating for a year after all, and they still hadn’t told their family or friends they were together. Although they suspected some of them were starting to catch on…
“Have I ever managed to say no to you yet?”
Azriel hummed seductively, kissing her just behind her ear where she had a little beauty mark. He wondered if she knew of its existence. Azriel would happily spend all day mapping the constellation of freckles across her skin, trace each one with his mouth and tongue.
Elain threw her phone off to the side, inhaling deeply and angling her head to give him better access to her throat.
“I suppose not. Please don’t start now,” he whispered against the skin of her neck, his lips brushing her fluttering pulse.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she uttered, rolling onto her back and getting into a better position to capture Azriel’s lips with hers.
Threading her fingers into his hair, she slanted her lips across his and kissed him deeply, slowly. Languidly tasting every corner of his mouth, exploring with her tongue and lips. Azriel groaned, rolling onto his front and settling between her thighs, deepening the kiss.
Soon, so fucking soon, he’d ask Elain Archeron to marry him.
A very short bit of nonsense, posted for @azrielshadowsingerweek Day 5 - Hobbies. It could also work for Day 3 - Friends and Family.
Feyre stepped softly up the stairs to her now twelve month old son's room, looking forward to some cuddles after a long day meeting with Velaris' city planners, and hoping that Rhys had kept him up just a wee bit little later than usual so she wouldn't have to wake him. Nyx, a bright and cheerful child, was always happy to hug his Mama, but his mood did suffer a little the next morning if his sleep was interrupted.
Rounding the corner of the landing, she heard the dregs of a whispered suggestion, followed by some sort of deep, muffled question, and then a quick, "Do it, he loves the scary ones best," in her mate's night-kissed voice. Giggling cut through the silence of the river house, full of joy.
Curiosity piqued, she winnowed silently, landing just outside the doorway to Nyx's room, finding Rhys and Azriel inside. Rhys was lounging in the rocking chair, with two arms full of one very excited Nyx—who was clapping his hands and wings in time with each other, nearly smacking his father in the face—while Azriel was standing off to the side of the faelight set on the bedside table, using his shadows to create extravagant creatures against the wall.
She smiled at the sight.
Azriel must have been practising, because these animals were readily identifiable and even moved independently. A far cry from his earliest efforts.
As Feyre watched, she saw the wolf and puppies romping across the wall transform into a winged faerie, then five, with wings and talons spread as they flew across the wall—all Attors, she quickly realised. Concern for her son rose, as she didn't want to put him to bed primed for nightmares, but before she could say anything a soft, dark presence stroked at the edges of her mind.
It's okay, Rhys said, Nyx here seems to appreciate the fell beasts. The more horrific, the better.
Relaxing, Feyre sent a single message back down their bond: If he wakes up crying, I blame you.
Rhys chuckled, and Azriel, who had almost certainly known she was there from the moment she had entered the house, simply raised his eyebrows at his brother. "Silent conversations are rude when one person can't participate, you know."
Rhys raised one hand in apology as Feyre stepped into the room. "Alright, shadow master. What next?"
Feyre grinned wickedly, taking Nyx into her arms and perching herself on the tufted arm of the chair, dropping a kiss on the top of his soft, dark hair.
"Try Bryaxis."
~🦇🦇🦇~
Please excuse this short, fluffy nonsense. I just think it would mean a lot to Azriel to be able to use his powers for innocent fun. To know that his shadows, which might be considered scars of a sort - of his time in his father's dungeon, if that is truly when they came to him - are thought of as beautiful by his friends and family. That they, he, can create things of beauty, and bring joy.
"Azriel smiled faintly. ”Would you like me to show you the garden?” She seemes so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breadth of his shoulders. The wings peeking over them. But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded - just once. Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, ”Beautiful.” "
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