Elriel Month Day 1: fairytale
Beyond the windows, darkness had indeed fallen. The longest night of the year. I found Elain studying it, beautiful in her amethyst-colored gown. I made to move toward her, but someone beat me to it. The shadowsinger was clad in a black jacket and pants similar to Rhysand's—the fabric immaculately tailored and built to fit his wings.
He still wore his Siphons atop either hand, and shadows trailed his footsteps, curling like swirled embers, but there was little sign of the warrior otherwise. Especially as he gently said to my sister, "Happy Solstice."
Elain turned from the snow falling in the darkness beyond and smiled slightly. "I've never participated in one of these."
It was three by the time the others went to bed. (...)
Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she'd sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. Whether he cared about such things, I had no idea, but I sent him a silent prayer of thanks for his kindness before Rhys and I slipped upstairs.
"And I think Elain—Elain would like it, too. Though she'd probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet." I smiled at the thought—at how handsome they would be together.
Shadows darkened his eyes, full of enough pain that she couldn't stop herself from touching his shoulder. Letting him see that she understood why he stood in the doorway, why he wouldn't go near the fire.
His secret to tell, never hers.
He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. "It will serve you well."
"I—I don't know how to use it—“
But as a black blade broke through the king's throat, spraying blood, I realized someone else had. Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king's neck as she snarled in his ear, "Don't you touch my sister."
Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain's face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.
Nesta started, not having heard her sister approach. She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she'd been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friends.
Elain was in her nightgown. Gagged, wrists wrapped in steel that glowed violet. Her eyes went wide as she saw us—Azriel and me—I shifted my face back into my own, raising a hand to my lips as Azriel knelt before her. I kept up my litany of praying, beseeching the Cauldron to make my womb fruitful, on and on—
Azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. "Are you hurt?"
She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. "You came for me."
The shadowsinger only inclined his head. (....) "We don't have time'" Azriel murmured. "He's coming." The screaming and shouting began. Azriel scooped up Elain, looping her bound arms around his neck. "Hold tight," he ordered her, "and don't make a sound."
“Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them.
Azriel's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut.
He nearly groaned with relief and need as he lowered his head toward hers.
To be continued Oct 2026💙🩷