Tender Jar: An Elriel Experiment Masterlist
“Like a jar you housed infinite tenderness, and the infinite tenderness shattered you like ajar”
Synopsis: Six months after the war, Elain is still mourning all that the cauldron took from her, and it’s only Azriel she trusts not to judge her for her brokenness. However, when she has a vision concerning both Lucien and Graysen, she steals her courage and braves first the Spring Court and then the Mortal World, Azriel at her side. When lines are drawn and Elain is pushed to her emotional limit, she must decide whether she will let her past shatter her or give in to the desires of her tender heart.
Warnings: Elriel with brief Elucien. NSFW. Contains some graphic depictions of sex and foul language.
Part I: Elain sat, hidden, on the second story balcony of the townhouse’s palatial library, twisting Graysen’s ring around her slim finger and listening as Feyre’s inner circle discussed her like a problem to be solved. Like a taxing, overdue problem they had to solve.
Part II: “I—“ Elain began, throat suddenly dry. “I’ll go. Tamlin has no real reason to dislike me, and it would be bad form to deny me access to my mate.”
Part III: “I think Tamlin’s going to find you’re a more skilled opponent then he’s anticipating.”
Elain glanced up to find Azriel giving her a soft, reassuring smile, full lips curved into a perfect bow. For a second she wanted to reach out and touch them, suddenly desperate to know if they were as soft as they looked.
Part IV: Azriel considered this, and her, eyes skating across her face before falling to her hands and watching her twist the iron ring around and around.
“He’s wrong about you,” he said. “You’re no one’s prize. You belong to yourself and no one else.”
Part V: Elain could feel herself wandering deeper and deeper into the distance Azriel always kept between them, but somehow she couldn’t find it in her to care. She craved his company, quickly found herself needing it, and if this was all she could have from him, she would gladly take it.
Part VI, Azriel: “I—“ Azriel began, nearly gagging on the three words he was dying to say to her. He made the mistake of glancing down at her devastating beauty, at the heart-rending warmth in her eyes. If he told her, she would try and forgive him for it, tell him it didn’t matter, and he couldn’t bear it.
Part VII: Lucien shook his head in disgust.
“Don’t push this back on me, Illyrian. Even if Elain weren’t my mate, I would keep her as far from you as I could manage. You are spoiled goods. Your brothers may tolerate you, but no female ever will.”
Part VIII: Azriel gave a soft, sad smile, brushing a tear away with his knuckle.
“To die for you would not be so terrible a thing.”
“You do not have my leave to die,” she said, reaching blindly up to tangle her fingers with his outstretched ones. “Do you hear me, Shadowsinger?”
Part IX: Could it be there was more to Elain’s gift than simple foresight? No, it was impossible; one could not alter their gifts. But then—Nesta had. Nesta had clawed the very heart of the cauldron out with nothing but sheer force of will. Elain would never pretend that she had even a fraction of her sister’s nerve, but she knew she had to try.
Part X: Then Elain Archeron had been made, and he thought he’d found someone at last who saw him. Found, he thought bitterly, and lost. He should have pushed harder that night in Vassa’s castle, should have told her how he felt before everything went to ashen Hell.
Part XI: Yes, he was coming home, but it was so much more than brick and stone. It was her. It was his Elain that have finally given him a place in the world, and for that he would be eternally grateful.
IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE TAGGED, LET ME KNOW. :D
gummygunk
2087
prguitarman
annaxmalina
theartofmadeline
germansingergirl
yousharknotpass
areudirty
