hi there. welcome to my thingy, otherwise known as hell. i like music, softball, reading, and field hockey. follow me if ya want ig. keep livin life ✌️ (she/her)
“But what does Grover bring to the table? He’s just the comedy relief character.” Grover is juggling the role of babysitter, mediator, and emotional manipulator and he cracks jokes too? Give him a BREAK
Summary: a mistake on a mission causes you to lose your memories from the last five years, including the new mating bond between you and Azriel. Can he help you get your memories back, or will you never remember the past five years?
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Author’s note: this has been a wip since October I really hope you guys like it. It’s also my longest fic to date - so please enjoy! 💕
“Stealth missions are so boring,” Cassian states from behind you.
“Maybe that’s why you usually don’t get assigned on stealth missions, dummy,” you reply while looking through the desk drawers.
“I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to be looking for. Sometimes Azriel talks and I just tune him out.” Cassian mimes with his hands a talking motion and rolls his eyes.
“Cassian, why are you even on this mission if you don’t know what we’re looking for and you don’t like stealth missions?” You ask not looking up at him as you search through the papers on the desk.
“Hmm,” he says, pretending to search through the papers as he drops his voice, “it’s been a while since we’ve hung out the two of us.”
You pause and turn to look at him, a big grin overtaking your face.
“You missed me,” you say, delight coating your voice.
“No, I didn’t say that. You’re twisting my words,” he says, pretending to be annoyed, going to search a different part of the room.
You had been a part of the inner circle for about three years when the mating bond snapped into place. All throughout those three years Cassian did everything he could think of to put you and Azriel together. He’d constantly ask you two to dinner and be ‘sick’ and then magically be okay the next day. He’d force you two to sit next to each other during every dinner, solstice, lunch, breakfast, meeting. Any event where you had to sit down, you had to sit next to each other. Anytime you had to be flown somewhere, Cassian would mysteriously have flown away, leaving Azriel to fly you. The cauldron works hard, but Cassian works harder.
No one else could figure out Cassian’s borderline obsession with the two of you. Whenever Rhys or Feyre or anyone would ask him, he’d simply shrug and say “I have a hunch” or, if he was feeling particularly chatty, “I think they’d have stunning children”.
The truth was Cassian loved the both of you so much that he wanted to see you two happy. He also knew there was something between the two of you, he just didn’t know what. He was there the day you and Azriel were introduced, and he felt something. He wasn’t sure if it was possible to feel someone else’s mating bond, but he could feel the potential between you two.
You laugh as you continue rifling through the desk. “You know Cassian if you want to spend time together all you had to do was ask-“
You’re cut off by a cloud of pink dust coming out of a drawer you opened and covering your face. You start coughing and backing away.
“Shit,” Cassian says, coming over to you. He starts looking you over, assessing for damage.
“I’m fine,” you say, in between coughs, “dusty old drawer.”
Cassian looks skeptical. “Yes, because pink dust is so common.”
You roll your eyes. “We’ve searched the room, there’s nothing here. Let’s go home.”
The mission debrief was short - not much to report. The two of you searched an abandoned outpost, seeing if anything of interest was left behind, finding nothing of value or interest.
You enjoyed stealth missions, but you especially loved coming home to your overly protective mate. You two had a tradition - your own personal debrief, where Azriel would inspect every inch of you for any sign of injury. Wherever you were injured, whether it be bruise, scrap, or cut, he would place long kisses on the spot.
“Better than a healer,” he’d say.
The length of the mission would determine how long the two of you stayed locked up in each other. You two usually spent double the length of the mission together uninterrupted.
Once, after a four day long mission, no one had seen either of you for a week. Rhys had to send a telepathic message to find proof of life from either of you.
That night, Azriel checked your wounds, which you’re not even sure you had any. You considered even “accidentally” cutting your finger, but decided against it.
-
You woke up to a dark room, feeling a heavy presence wrapped around you. Whoever it was was massive, incredibly warm, and had quite the grip on you.
You’re not crazy about casual flings, but it’s not too unheard of, especially considering you spent last night drinking with Cassian and Mor at Rita’s. Mor loved playing matchmaker with you, trying to set you up with the most eligible males she could find.
You look around the room, the realization of being naked hitting you. You spot a pile of clothes on the floor and gently lift the arm off of you and slip out from under the male. You grab the clothes, putting the shirt on first. It seems to be the mystery male’s - it’s incredibly long on you, smelling of pine and mist.
“Going somewhere?” the male asks, rising up from the bed to meet you where you stand.
“Yes, I’m uh I’m so sorry but I don’t remember getting here, so I’m just going to head home.” You say, walking backwards towards the door. As the male comes closer, you recognize him.
“Azriel?” You ask.
“Yes, who else would I be?” Azriel replies, a hint of confusion dancing in his eyes, “come back to bed, you’re probably just confused after a dream.”
“Uh, wow, um I-“ you dart your eyes around the room “I’m so sorry but I don’t remember how I got here, let me go back to my room.”
He stops, all signs of playfulness gone. “You don’t have a room. This is your room. This is our room.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Sweetheart, you moved into my room a few years ago. Your room is just another guest room now.”
You blush at the nickname. Despite your best efforts, he had hardly said much to you in the time you’ve known him. Despite the nickname, the weight of his words starts to settle on you.
“Um, no I have a room here. This isn’t a very good joke, Az.” You say, opening the door to go to your room across the hall. Your feet carry you to your room, your hand resting on the knob as Azriel reaches for you, calling for you. You’re not sure why there’s such confusion in his tone. You open the door to what used to be your room, only to find it devoid of any signs you had lived in it.
The room looked like it had the day you moved in, sans the welcome basket Feyre and Rhys had assembled for you and left on the bed. The blue barren walls stare back at you, the four poster bed neatly made.
No hearth in the fire, no books on the nightstand, no flowers on the desk. Even your beloved stuffed wolf that Cassian teased you about was nowhere to be seen.
“Azriel, where is my stuff?”
Azriel stares at you, in utter shock and disbelief. He grabs your hand, leading you through the house. You’re forced to follow him, due to both his tight but gentle grip on you and your curiosity at where all of your things went. The sounds of his footsteps echo through the hall, a level of noise you’ve never heard from him. Usually he glides through these halls, not a trace of noise made to alert anyone of his presence.
“Azriel, what’s wrong?” You keep asking, and he won’t reply until you’re face to face with Rhys’s bedroom door, where Azriel starts banging fiercely on it.
Cassian is the first to poke his head out, his door down the hall from Rhys’s. Once he sees Azriel is the one causing all the commotion, he comes out into the hall, looking around for any unseen threats.
Rhys opens the door, a pair of sweatpants hastily put on as he allows the three of you entry. You assume Rhys had the same reaction to Cassian, annoyance quickly changing to concern at Azriel’s tone.
You assume that Azriel, Rhys, and Feyre are all communicating telepathically because it is dead silent in the room until Feyre comes up and tells you to have a seat in one of their chairs by the fire.
“Okay, now tell me, what happened?” Rhys asked, putting his hands on your shoulders in reassurance.
“Well I um think I’m missing a few pieces but uh last night I went to Rita’s with Cassian and Mor, I got pretty drunk, and I woke up naked in Azriel’s room. I woke up, I tried to leave, only to find out my room is gone.”
Cassian looks at you, concern etching his face, “we went to Rita’s?” He asks, pointing a finger between you and him.
“Yeah,” you say, “you had been out to see Devlen and when you came back you asked if Mor and I wanted to go out with you. No one else was here.” You look to Feyre and Rhys, becoming even more confused. “Why are you guys all back so early?”
“What do you mean “back early”?”
“Well, Azriel had some mission on the continent, and Feyre and Rhys were visiting the summer court with Amren.”
“Mother help us,” Cassian muttered, as he realized his error, dragging a hand across his face. “On our mission yesterday, she breathed in an unknown powder. It had slipped my mind, she seemed so fine, I didn’t think anything of it.”
You could feel the anger vibrating off of Azriel as he turned to Cassian, spitting “What do you mean you didn’t think anything of it? You didn’t think anything of my mate on your mission?”
Azriel’s words don’t register with you as you were too focused on Cassian’s. “But I didn’t go on any missions yesterday. I spent the day at the library, doing research. Cassian found me, asked me to go to Rita’s, and I told him I’d pay for all of his drinks if he went down to the bottom level of the library.”
“Oh, Mother.” Cassian muttered. “Let’s stop for a moment.” Rhys said, crouching in front of you. His violet eyes shone with kindness and concern as he tells you, “Feyre and I went to the summer court with Amren five years ago.”
“That’s not possible” you scoff, “you guys just left three days ago.”
You look towards Azriel, his usual stoicism a thing of comfort in times like this. Instead you’re met with deep despair as he looks back at you, and somehow you can feel that despair deep in your chest.
Rhys moves away from you as Azriel walks towards you and crouches down in front of you, looking at you like you hold his entire life in the palm of your hands, “Sweetheart,” he starts, “what am I to you?”
Your cheeks flare with heat. You start stammering, his gaze overwhelming. He wants some specific answer, this you know. His gaze is piercing and you can’t look away.
“When we were in the summer court,” Feyre starts musing, “that was… before, right?”
“Before what?” You ask, while Azriel nods his head, confirming Feyre’s question.
The room has grown silent again, before Azriel takes your hands and says “before we became mates.”
Your cheeks are on fire now, wishing you could be having this conversation in private, instead of in front of your family.
“Wait, is that why you came back early? You realized we were mates when you were on the continent?” You whisper the last part as of it’s a secret.
As if Azriel’s face couldn’t show you anymore devastation, he replies, “Sweetheart, we’ve been mated for two years.”
You couldn’t have heard him correctly. “I’m sorry,” you say, “have you been keeping it from me for two years? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Rhys steps in, sparing Azriel the pain of further explaining this to you, “you two have been mates for two years. The war with Hybern is over.”
You look into everyone’s eyes, trying to find a trace of humor, “this isn’t a funny joke, it’s quite cruel.”
“No one is joking,” Cassian says. You stand up, beginning to pace the room.
“No no no, you have to be, because either Mor thought this would be a funny joke because of my crush on Azriel or I’ve forgotten the last five years of my life, including getting a mate and surviving the war.”
You look around the room, everyone looking at either you or Azriel, not a trace of humor in the room.
“This has to be a joke because how cruel would it be for Azriel to find a mate just for them to forget everything about him. Five years! Five years of my life are gone! Up to this point in time, Azriel has said maybe five words to me!”
You are hyperventilating by this point, pacing the room, shaking.
“Rhys,” Azriel says, “please.”
Rhys envelops you in a hug, and everything goes dark for you as you slump into his arms. He picks you up, gently laying you on their couch, draping a blanket over you.
Everyone in the room is just staring at you, praying for you to just jump up and tell them this was all a joke. Azriel just sits on the floor next to you, holding your hand, tears streaming down his face.
“I-“ he starts saying quietly, “I-uh I always wondered how the Cauldron would make me suffer for making her my mate. I always knew it would take her away from me in the end, but not like this. I never could have dreamt of this outcome. I never.. never could have imagined how painful it’d be to see her forget me.”
No one is dry-eyed. Everyone is devastated for you, but especially for Azriel. Cassian, Feyre, and Rhys leave the bedroom, allowing Azriel to stay with you while Rhys keeps you under. They all head to Rhys’ study.
“There is some good news in this.”
Cassian and Feyre snap their heads to look at him, urging him to continue.
“When I was in her mind to sedate her, I could tell she still had memories of the past five years. Some of them were memories so ingrained to her that she has no idea what they are. Another thing is that I could tell the memories were there, they’re just… locked up.”
“Locked up? Like a prisoner?” Feyre asks.
“Yes,” Rhys replies, “like a prisoner.”
“So this powder is keeping her memories hostage?”
He sighs, looking towards the door, thinking about his brother’s face. “It would appear that way.”
Madja was called to look over you in your unconscious state, and after she found nothing wrong, they decided to wake you back up.
While you were unconscious, they decided that Mor and Cassian would watch over you unless you ask otherwise. Rhys wakes you up gently, asking if you need anything. After you decline, he leaves you alone with Mor and Cassian.
“So, um..” you start, not sure where to begin. “Five years?”
Mor nods.
“The war is over?”
Cassian smiles solemnly and nods.
“And Az and I?”
Cassian’s grin widens as he looks at you, thinking about the love you share with his brother. You play with your thumbs, unsure what to ask.
“What do you guys, uh, think of us? Do we seem happy?”
Cassian snorts while Mor replies, “oh we adore the two of you. Cassian is convinced he knew of your mating bond the day you two met.”
Cassian puffs out his chest in pride. “I most certainly knew, years before they did.”
“What made you know?” You ask, curiosity filling your eyes as you sat up.
“Well,” Cassian says, “the two of you didn’t interact much the first few years. Azriel needs time to warm up to people, and he’s worried he’ll scare people off if he comes on too strong. But I could just tell that he so desperately wanted to be your friend.”
“Hmm,” you muse, looking at Cassian in a confused way, “I always assumed he didn’t like me.”
Cassian looks at you quizzically, “and why is that?”
You sigh. “I always thought he found me… too soft. Too delicate.” You look out the window, and Cassian feels a pang of guilt. He knew Azriel could be a bit icy at times, but he hadn’t remembered what it felt like to not have that friendship.
Cassian studies you, “Why’d you think that?”
“I don’t know, it was just little things, I suppose. He’d never laugh at my jokes or talk to me much. Once you had paired us to be sparring partners and he just told you no and walked away to work with someone else.”
You remember a version of Azriel who hardly knew you. You’ve been placed in time right before Cassian started forcing you two to spend time together. For you, Azriel is practically a stranger.
Tears start rolling down your cheeks, “I don’t know him,” you say, “but it’s like my body knows him. I don’t.. know him.”
You take a deep breath, looking around the room to avoid Cassian’s sad face. “But I want him here. I don’t know why, maybe it’s the bond, but I just… want him here.”
You look down sighing, “I feel so bad that this is happening to him, he doesn’t deserve this. Even if I don’t know him.”
Cassian didn’t think his heart could break anymore, but he was wrong. Watching you cry over Azriel’s predicament but not your own gutted him. He moved to sit next to you on the couch and pulled you into his lap, letting you cry for a while.
After several hours of sitting with Mor and Cassian, Elain had recommended you get some fresh air, take a walk in the gardens. You ask if Azriel can join you, so he is staying near you, keeping an eye on you, but not too close.
You walked slowly, not sure if you wanted Azriel to catch up to you or to stay back. You felt gutted that this would happen to Azriel, despite your next to non-existent relationship with him up to this point.
The male trailed behind you, keeping the same distance in spite of your constantly changing pace. Your thoughts whirled and swirled, much like the shadows that dance around your mate. Your mate. You have a mate. And he’s here. That realization caused you to take some deep breaths, trying to keep yourself from spiraling into a panic.
Your brain can’t recall these things, but your body calls for him, wanting you to reach out and grab his hand. It is telling you that you stand on his left normally, allowing free range of motion for his dominant hand. It is telling you to let him lay on top of you, resting his head on your chest while he dozes off to nap. It is telling you to reach out and cup his jaw, that he will smile as you do so and pull you closer to him.
You don’t have memories of him, you have imprints of him, leaving whispers into your skin of how you were made for him. The yearning becomes too much and you need to hear him, so you turn to him and ask, “who did it snap for first?”
He blinks, a bit taken aback by your talking to him. He hasn’t heard you speak since the realization in Rhys’s office, much less speak to him directly. He takes longer strides, catching up to you quickly. He clears his throat and looks at you, “it snapped for me first, and I got to watch it snap for you.”
A soft smile graces his lips as he recalls the moment, so clearly in his memories he wishes he could send it directly to you. He can, he thinks, deciding that if you don’t have your memories, he’ll provide them for you.
“I bought you a locket for your birthday. A bit presumptuous, I know, but I had Feyre do a tiny portrait of myself to put in the locket. I also had a tiny piece of one of my siphons placed in the center so you could carry a piece of me everywhere.
“Your face lit up, but I was so nervous. I was trembling as I gave it to you. I almost dropped it when you asked me to clasp it around your neck. You hugged me so tightly, the locket pressing to my chest siphon and my siphon glowed.”
He smiles and reaches for your hand out of instinct, and you don’t pull away. When he notices what he’s done, he goes to retract his hand, but you clasp onto him harder.
“You had told me you would carry your loved ones in your pocket if you could and I got you the closest thing I could to that. I also had a shadow stay in the locket, they rotate who gets to be in the locket, but they like being close to you too. And in case of emergency they can slip out and find me.”
He pulls at the collar of his shirt, pulling out his own chain with a heart locket at the end. “You gave me one a week later. No siphon, but you used some of your light magic to embue a tiny stone so that it will glow forever.”
The locket looks so familiar, as if it was in a fairy tale you had read as a child. Your hand twitches, as if it wants to touch the locket. “You gave me the locket and when you saw it on my chest, your eyes lit up and I could feel you in my chest.”
You motion to a bench in the garden, and the two of you sit underneath a beautiful cherry blossom tree, its petals falling in the wind.
He moves his collar to tuck the necklace back in, pats it to his chest, then asks, “I’m guessing this is a lot to take in?”
You nod, “I mean it’s just been what five years? I have a hot mate that up until now he’s had no idea I’m hopelessly in love with him, the war is over, I missed Feyre and Rhys’s mating ceremony. It’s all sunshines and rainbows.”
He looks at you, “if it makes you feel better, they snuck out and did the ceremony in secret.”
He hears you grumble, “bastards” under your breath, making him chuckle.
“As for the hot mate who had no idea you were in love with him,” he pauses, watching your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, “he was the same way.”
You gape at him, hitting him on the shoulder, “don’t tell me things just to try to make me feel better!”
He laughs, “I’m not lying!”
You scoff, “You’ve spoken to me three times! One of those times you had asked me to move.”
He looks down, “okay maybe I wasn’t great at conveying it to you, but I thought about you constantly.”
You scoff again, thumping his chest, “you did not!”
“I did so!” He replies, just as childishly as you, “I spent so much of my energy trying to keep my shadows from harassing you at all hours. They kept pulling me, trying to coerce me into rooms you were in.”
He turns to look at you, your eyes a gateway to the before.
“I thought you were so pretty when you first showed up, I forgot how to breathe.”
Your cheeks heat as you look down at the ground, Azriel’s undivided attention being too much.
You look up at him, “okay, well if you were soooo in love with me, how come you refused to spar with me?”
You cross your arms over your chest, looking at the shadowsinger next to you, unable to believe that he’s your mate.
His wings flare ever so slightly, as he quietly tells you, “because being that close to you was too much.”
You look at him quizically, not quite getting what he’s referencing.
Azriel, for all his credit, is trying to be as coy as possible. The you from the present has an absolutely filthy mouth, the dirty talk between you two could strip paint off of walls. But this version of you? It feels wrong, violating almost. You’re not some innocent doe, far from it, but the way you two speak now was built on years of trust, a foundation that doesn’t exist for the version of you he’s looking at.
He sighs, coughing as he says, “I knew if I were to get that close to you, I’d have a hard time and I didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of you.”
You bring your hand up to your mouth, giggling. “Aww the big, scary shadowsinger is afraid he’ll get a hard on while sparring. Do you have these fears with anyone else? Cassian, perhaps?”
He laughs, the first genuine laugh since you woke up yesterday morning. “Can’t say I’ve ever had that concern with him.” He shakes his head, “but also Cassian isn’t a pretty female.”
You smile, “no, I guess not. He’s not pretty, not like you.” You clamp your mouth shut, despite knowing you’ve been seeing him for years. Parts of you know this, but other parts feel the newness, the uncertainty.
He smiles, looking at you through the side of his eye. “You think I’m pretty?” It’s a sentiment you’ve told him before, but this version of you thinking it too is fascinating.
“Oh yeah, prettiest male I’ve ever seen.” You blush, deciding to tell him everything, “I uh- I asked Mor to make sure I can always sit next to you when we go out.”
Your confession causes him to pause, something he never knew about you. “Oh?” He asks, curious about this new information.
“Yeah, once she even pushed Cassian out of a seat so I could make it in time.” You laugh, remembering the shock on his face as he laid on the ground and you quickly grabbed his seat. “I thought if I sat next to you, you’d uh- fall in love with me.” You rush out the last part, your voice going quiet.
“But uh, I actually told her to forget about it, just last night. Or whenever that was….” You trail off, remembering your current predicament.
But Azriel was stuck in the past, stuck on your latest admission. “Wait, why did you tell her to let it go?”
You sigh, picking up a dandelion out of the grass, “well, I’d try really hard to get you to notice me or talk to me, but you never did.” You pick at the petals of the flower. “I figured I was annoying you, or you hated that I was keeping other girls from being able to chat you up. So I told her to let it go.”
Azriel balks at your admission, having no idea the extent of his effect on you. “I had no idea how to talk to you! You were so pretty, especially whenever we were at Rita’s.” He sighs, remembering how he’d overanalyze how to reapond to you, only to never say anything.
“It wasn’t until… Cassian.” He pauses, trailing off. “Cassian what?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest at the slight breeze.
“Cassian told me he spent a lot of time trying to seat us next to each other, to get me to talk to you. I wonder if he… got the idea after talking to you last night about it.”
You shake your head, “no, I only told Mor that - no way he knows.”
Azriel looks at you, “And how is the biggest gossip and busybody you know?”
Your eyes widen, realization hitting you, “oh my god,” you whine. “He heard me! He heard how pathetic I am!”
Azriel rolls his eyes, but you continue, “I was so drunk! I kept talking about you - and how you smell, and your hands, and your legs, oh my god.”
Your cheeks flare in heat, and your voice drops to a whisper. “I told Mor I had a dirty dream about you the other day - in detail!”
He smirks, “and what were we doing in this dirty dream?”
Your cheeks flame tomato red, as he laughs at you. “I guarantee you, sweetheart, whatever it was, we’ve done dirtier.”
He’s always enjoyed making you flustered, but this is an opportunity to fluster past you, one he will not let go to waste.
“About that,” you start, a sheepish grin adorning the cherry red of your cheeks. “How is our sex life? Is it good?” You ask, your voice lowered.
He laughs, “we make Cassian look like a prude with the amount of sex we have.” You gasp, approval for this future version of yourself. He leans in close to your ear, and whispers, “genuinely the best sex of my life.”
You bite your lip, but he continues. “Our general rule is for every night I’m gone on a mission, when I come back I have to make you finish at least once per day I’m gone.”
He chuckles low, the memory coming to him so easily. “I was once gone for twelve nights.” He pulled back, looking into your eyes. “And yes, all in one night.”
Your eyes widen, and you take a quick glimpse down towards his crotch. He watches you check him out, a smile ghosting on his lips.
You spent several days like that, most of your time spent with Azriel. You asked him about your lives together - where you two lived, what your days looked like together, what your lives with the Inner Circle looked like.
“Have I been able to convince you to take a day off?” You ask, the two of you eating at your favorite cafe in Velaris. Rhys had encouraged you to explore the city, hopeful it’s constant changing is able to jog something in you.
He smiles at you, chewing his croissant. “Actually, yes.” He says after swallowing. “We actually took a vacation to Summer during this past winter.”
You gasp, your eyes widening in excitement. “I’ve always wanted to go to Summer! How was it? Did we see any mermaids?”
He chuckles, “no, much to your disappointment.”
You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Can’t believe I didn’t get to see a mermaid.”
He smiles at your childish antics, looking at your pouting face. He still couldn’t process it - this was you, but it wasn’t his mate. You weren’t taking a bite of his croissant for yourself, you weren’t touching his knee with yours, you weren’t making up terrible excuses to hold his hand in yours.
Looking at you was excruciating, questions plagueing his mind as he looked. Will you ever remember him? Your life together? The late nights, the early mornings, the small moments that made up your relationship?
Or were you destined to be this past version of yourself forever? Would you develop new habits? Would you even fall in love with him, this version of himself who knows everything about you?
“Did we have a mating ceremony?”
He’s jolted back to the present, his mind finding itself in the past that your mind resides in. He smiles, warmth flooding his heart at the meer mention of that day. He gazes at you, telling you all about it. How all of Velaris loved you so much the town was covered in flowers, much to Cassian’s annoyance.
“I was so nervous, the whole day my hands kept shaking. The minutes before I saw you it got so bad my wings started shaking.”
“Why were you nervous?”
He breathes in deeply, surprised that tidbit came out of his mouth. He had never told you how nervous he had been - he didn’t want you to misconstrue it as reservations about you or your relationship.
He exhales, looking at his empty plate. “Being so vulnerable so publicly, declaring for everyone to know that I am yours and you are mine, felt so… intimidating.”
He grabs a napkin and starts shredding it, an effort to keep his hands occupied to keep them from shaking like they did that day. The shadowsinger rarely showed such nerves, but he always allowed you to see past the cool exterior he usually wore. “I was so scared. No one has ever loved me as openly as you do. My brothers love me, Feyre, Nesta, Mor - they love me. Elain, the Valkyries. All of them love me, but you wear your love on your sleeve. It’s practically on your face.”
He laughs as your hands reach up to your face, as if there was some physical marking there conveying your deep love.
“I’ve never had that. It made me a little scared.”
Without meaning to your hand reaches out to his, halting his napkin shredding. It’s the first time you’ve touched him since you woke up five days ago, and it lights Azriel’s heart aglow. He hadn’t realized how much he had been needing your soothing touch, the one way to know you were here with him.
He doesn’t move, allowing you to process what you’ve done as you see fit. He expects you to pull your hand back, retreating back into yourself as you used to do in the early stages of your relationship.
Your hand stays on his, your eyes meeting his. Your thumb grazes over the scarred skin, as if you could soothe the injury from centuries ago with a delicate touch.
It is quiet between you two, the sounds of the other patrons filling his ears. The soft clinking of spoons on plates, the murmured chatter, the scraping of chairs against the floor.
You’re looking at him like you know him, like you remember it all. He feels his heart in his throat, hoping to hear those words from you. You open your mouth and tell him, “I’m sure I was nervous too.”
The moment is gone, you pull your hand away to stir your coffee once more. Suddenly the patrons are too loud, their conversations too idiotic, the smell of the coffee is overwhelming.
A few days later you wake up to an empty bed in a room you aren’t familiar with. It takes you a moment to remember that you’re in Azriel’s room.
Your room.
The room around you is proof that this wasn’t a dream, despite almost two weeks having passed since your memory was lost. You get up, your nightgown grazing your thighs as you take in the room. You walk in front of the bookshelves, fingers grazing the titles.
Azriel really likes detective novels, you think. You’re continuing through when you find some unmarked books. Opening them, you find your own handwriting back at you.
Entries dated 2 years into your future, 3 years in your past. You’re skimming through the journal, Cassian having done something to annoy you to write several paragraphs until you find a new paragraph.
“Azriel.
Azriel is my mate. My mate. He gave me a locket. We stood on the balcony, just watching the stars. He told me about how the stars led him through the depths of his childhood, and how he would spend most of his nights gazing at the moon, hoping, praying for better days.
“Did you find better days?” I had asked him, and he told me, “I found you, didn’t I?”
You shut the notebook, Azriel’s words invading your sense.
“I found you, didn’t I?”
You hear his voice and are transported back, back to that rooftop, back to that cool night where he laid everything bare for you. That cool night where he draped his wings over you to keep you warm, to keep you wrapped in his arms.
You two spent all night on that roof, talking, making out like two teenagers, staying until the sun began to rose and the citizens of Velaris began waking.
You can smell the scent of cedar and mist, a smell you recognize as Azriel. You can see the slight pink hue dusting his cheeks as you kissed his face, littering his cheeks with dozens of kisses.
It all comes flooding back to you as you drop your journal, racing out of your room. You take the stairs down, searching, needing to hold him.
Him.
Your precious mate.
The male who holds an infinite amount of patience for you.
You see him as you round the corner of the kitchen, launching yourself into his arms. He catches you with a soft oof as your legs wrap around his waist. He holds you there, breathing you in, and you whisper in his ear, “I found you, didn’t I?”
Azriel grip on you tightens, a soft sob escaping him as clutches you, holding you like the world could be collapsing around him and it wouldn’t matter.
“I would have done everything to make you fall in love with me again,” he tells you, kissing your cheeks, his tears mixing with yours.
“And I would have kept falling in love with you.” You grab his face, and kiss him, pouring everything into it and down the bond. He responds with his own love and adoration down the bond, his lips soft and delicate against yours as he does so.
You two hear a groan from the doorway, but don’t pull apart. “We make food in here!” Cassian groans, stepping past you two, “go somewhere else!” He picks up a piece of a cookie and throws it at you, hitting you in the forehead.
You grumble, turning to face him, your eyebrows knitted together and a scowl on your lips. Cassian gasps, “you remember!”
You jump off of Azriel and start running towards Cassian, throwing bits of cookie at him as he runs away, “I remember you telling my mate you wish it was your memories gone so you wouldn’t have to be reminded how annoying I am!”
You chase him around the house, threatening him as you do so, until Azriel reached an arm out, pulling you into his chest, and just holds you there.
Fuck it. Spread this post to every nook and cranny on tumblr. Prove to everyone that this site is ALIVE and FLOURISHING and that it will last for fucking DECADES
I need somebody to draw that scene after Lorcan killed the ilken where he's shirtless, covered in oil and black blood, legs spread, sitting in that wagon idly chewing a stalk of wheat, axe and sword by his side. Whoever draws this will be my hero.
prguitarman
gummygunk
turnnoffyourmind
snowghoul
