The Pain of Falling for You - Part 4
Azriel x F!Reader
Summary: Azriel refuses to leave your side after the Valkyrie training, which is all well and good until a certain High Lord shows up unannounced.
A/N: Almost there! Next part is Az finding out, I promise! I honestly didn't expect this part to take so long to come out. Thank you all so much for your patience. I don't know why, but writing every scene with Rhys so far has been like pulling teeth. Thank you all for your patience. Some stuff came up with my job that took over the past month of my life, but it should be over now, or at least calmed down (but I'm not promising anything).
This will probably be the shortest part, besides possibly the epilogue. There is a possibility that what is now part 5 will be split, but I'm not sure yet (the reveal will happen in the next chapter no matter what, don't you worry).
Word Count: 4.5K ish
Warnings: Reader has chronic pain (I'm trying to keep it accurate, but just in case: any medical inaccuracies are due to the fact that Reader is fae and not human and should be attributed to the biological differences between the two species), semi-unreliable narrators, feeling insecure, more angst, talk of pregnancies and complications during pregnancies (see previous note about medical inaccuracies, but with more fae and magic nonsense), past child abandonment, Rhysand means well
Part 3 | Part 5
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Azriel's wing coils gently behind you, its warmth seeping through the back of the couch, soothing some of your aching muscles. The shadows curl lazily about the room, humming contentedly. A soft smile pulls at your lips, eyes lethargically following their swirling movements. Azriel's arm drapes around you, his touch light, leaning into you as much as you are him. He insisted on taking you to his apartment after you reunited in the garden, keeping you close as you and the parents-to-be arranged a time for their appointment in a few days.
The two of you barely said a word when you arrived; Azriel discarding his leathers before sitting next to you on the couch, the shadows depositing warm mugs of tea in your hands. Your fingers flex gently around the mug, the contents seemingly charmed to remain the perfect temperature. Azriel takes a long, slow sip, eyes never leaving you.
The soft cushions relieve some of the stress on your spine, muscles still throbbing after spasming earlier. During the kiss. Just the thought has your smile growing and warmth rushing up your neck. You have only been kissed a handful of times, but they weren't… like that. A spark of warmth filling every part of you, the need to feel him more important than breathing, all your pain momentarily forgotten. It was the first time the bond flared so brightly since it snapped, the only time it brought a gentle warmth and love and acceptance and no pain.
Azriel nuzzles your hair softly, you can feel his smile against your scalp. "What are you thinking about that has you blushing so prettily?" he hums.
You turn to him slightly, flush deepening. "Just you," you admit in a whisper.
Azriel's smile broadens. "Oh, yeah?" he murmurs, amusement dripping from his voice. "What about me?"
Ducking, you hide your face in his shoulder. "The garden," you whisper.
He hums, pecking the crown of your head. "I meant every word."
You still, his words breathed into your skin hours ago echoing in your mind.
You are everything. So perfect.
I love you so much. My beloved.
I'm yours.
Your pulse climbs into your throat and you draw your hands in until you can feel the warmth of your tea on your stomach, almost enough to disguise the void opening there. You could feel the sincerity in his words, his earnestness flowed through the bond. You want so desperately to believe them, and you had for a brief, perfect moment.
Then your lower spine spasmed and reality flooded back. You aren't perfect, by any stretch of the imagination. He only calls you such things because you keep a part of yourself from him, a part that dictates your entire life. Such sweet nothings will die on his lips the moment he learns, as they have for everyone else in your life.
"Hey," Azriel murmurs, tenderly guiding your face out of his shirt. He studies you with a quiet intensity. "Where did you go?"
You try to force a smile, but it's shaky. "Nowhere," you try. Azriel hums, unconvinced, eyes not leaving yours. You take a deep breath, gaze sliding to a shadow curling serenely on his shoulder. "I- I didn't mean to ruin everything with your family," you breathe.
His brows cinch, eyes flickering between yours. "Oh, my love," he whispers, voice soft and thick. Shaking his head, he leans in slowly until his forehead rests on yours. "You didn't ruin anything," he vows, the words gentle but heavy.
"But… the Hight Lord–" you start.
"Was wrong," he finishes gently, running his thumb across your cheek. "He never should've spoken to you that way. He knew those questions were inappropriate and asked anyway. If anyone ruined anything, it was him, not you."
You purse your lips, taking a shaky breath. The High Lord may have asked the questions, but only in response to you, your job, your trip to the Dawn Court. It was still your fault in that way, but you knew Azriel would never see it that way.
Your eyes drop to his chest. "I'm sorry about this morning," you breathe, shifting to try to relieve the ache from your twisting spine.
"Y/N," he whispers reverently, his voice catching. His other hand cups your jaw, his tea disappearing into the shadows. "That was not your fault. None of this is your fault." Gently, he tilts your head up, ducking to catch your eyes.
"But, if… if I wasn't there it wouldn't have happened. She never would have been kicked out," you insist quakily.
Taking a deep breath, Azriel closes his eyes. Your pulse thunders, hot tears burning behind her eyes. It really shouldn't surprise you; despite his flowery language, he can't deny that. Still, the jagged bond writhes in your chest, the hollowness in your stomach growing.
"Y/N," he says softly, his eyes opening, lined with silver tears. "My kind, sweet, beautiful, selfless Y/N." He smiles shakily as your face heats. He forces himself to take another deep breath, his eyes locked on yours. "Your presence may have been a catalyst, but her actions, her words, are hers and hers alone. It is her responsibility to bear, my beloved. Not yours. Never yours."
Your breath picks up, faster and shallower than before. Azriel's fingers tense against your cheeks, his jaw ticking as he studies your face. Stiffly, you force yourself to nod once, just to put him at ease. It works, his hands and shoulders relax a fraction, a sigh escaping him.
"It looked like you wanted to kill her," you breathe, voice steadier than you felt.
Azriel tenses again, eyes widening as they flicker across your face. You know of his job, of course, heard the stories that circulate about the… less savory aspects. Today was the first time seeing him fight, watching as the kind, gentle shadowsinger morphed into the deadly Spymaster. You thought it would scare you, distantly you were aware it should scare you, but it hadn't. Fear had been coursing through your veins, but Azriel was never the cause. Rather, it had fascinated you in a way you don't think it should; it made somewhere deep inside of you feel… safe.
You keep your face neutral, waiting patiently. It was a part of himself he hasn't shared with you and you aren't going to force him. You know all too well what it must feel like, to keep something secret for fear of rejection. But it was different, you reason; he has a family who has stuck by his side, while you… The only constant you have is Madja and you suspect she only tolerates you because you pay for her tonics.
"I… I considered it," Azriel admits in a tight breath.
Your lips pull upward in a small, shaky smile, his eyes track the movement, brows furrowing. Slowly, you lean in, watching him closely, your lips pressing softly onto his cheek when he doesn't pull away. His body shudders, wings twitching from the slots carved in the couch.
You pull back a fraction, smile steadying, his head turning slightly, your eyes meeting his hazel ones again. Mentally, you map every line, ridge, diamond, and fleck, noting the hundreds of colors that appear to glow in the sunlight.
Hesitantly, you lean in again, gaze flickering to his lips. His fingers tense against your cheeks, a soft breath escapes him as his lips twitch upwards. For a moment, your lips just brush each other, both your breaths already quickening in the shared air. The touch sent a painful shiver up your spine that you ignore. The shadows dance excitedly, urging you both closer. Time seems to slow, your very being gravitating to him, the bond clawing in your chest, begging for your mate's touch.
Drifting forward, your lips slot perfectly in his. You both sigh in relief, lips languidly beginning to move as one. The shadows take your tea and your hands immediately come to lightly grip his shirt, pulling his body flush to yours. The bond roars in triumph, heat pouring into your stomach and somewhere lower, demanding more. Carefully, you pull back before the need fully overtakes you, the bond screaming in protest.
Leaning your forehead against his, you both smile, cheeks flush. "I'll be honest," Azriel pants, a hand tucking a small lock of your hair back, "that's not how I thought you would react."
Your brows furrow, smile dimming slightly. "It wasn't too much, was it?" you ask quickly, trying to pull away.
Azriel's grip keeps you in place, shaking his head as your mouth opens again. "It was perfect," he breathes, pressing forward until his lips meet yours again for a brief moment. "You are perfect."
You relax into him, eyes fluttering closed, limbs heavy, even as your mind spirals, fighting against his words. Once he finds out about your condition, about the bond, this… fantasy he made of you will crash and he will leave. You're sure of it. Everyone has before him. Why should he stoop so low as to accept you? You who are weak, uneducated, poor, who has spent the past 24 hours ruining different parts of his life. How he was not embarrassed by you already, you don't know. It was only a matter of time, you concluded the night you met him in Madja's clinic, before he left you for someone better, as is his right.
"I wish I got to meet your family," Azriel murmurs, breaking your thoughts.
Your eyes snap open, pulling back sharply, wincing at the shooting pain up your spine. "W-what?" you breathe.
Azriel's brows furrow, his hands dropping. You had told him that you grew up at the Silver Oaks Orphanage when he asked about your family in the past. The words had stuttered out, face flushed with shame. Az had simply taken your hands, gently explaining how the Lady Nyssa had all but adopted both him and the General. He had never pushed or asked for an explanation.
His soft smile remains, a hand gently reaching up to grasp your wrist, thumb running tender circles along your pulse point. "Your parents, my love," he tries again. "I wish I could meet the fae who blessed me with you."
Heat flares up your neck and cheeks, you shift away, the shadows stilling around the room. You don't remember much about your parents, but you remember their voices, the disappointment, the disbelief, the yelling. They still echo through your dreams, along with your begging; begging them to believe you, that you weren't trying to get out of work. Mostly, you remember their silence, their disbelief in Madja's diagnoses. Then they were gone, leaving you with the old healer, refusing to take you back.
You still see them every once in a while, your parents and siblings, selling their crops in the market. You're always careful to stay away from their stall.
A tear burns a path down your cheek, you pull your hands away from him, furiously wiping your face. Azriel's smile fades. "If- if you truly want to, then we can- I mean, you are- if they–" you stammer, breaths coming too fast, too shallow, before you stop yourself.
They don't want you, never have, why would that change now? And if they told Azriel why they left you behind, he would just follow suit. Your breath shudders, the bond roiling at the thought.
"Hey, hey," Azriel chides gently, taking your hands in his, guiding them away from your face. "Breathe, my love," he commands softly. Shadows press in around you, whispering against your skin, a light grounding weight on the back of your neck. They pulse against you, slow and steady, miming a deep breath.
You do your best to copy, focusing on their steady weight against you, on the light brush of Azriel's thumb on the back of your hand. It takes several moments, but your breathing does start to even, although your heart continues to pound against your ribs. "That's it, beloved. That's it," he encourages. "What were you trying to say?"
Lips trembling, you force a steady breath, eyes focusing on where his hands hold yours. "It's just…" you push past the lump in your throat. "They own a farm, maybe two hours from the city. It- if you t-truly want to meet…" you trail off as his hands tense around yours.
His brows cinch, a muscle in his jaw flexing. "They're still alive?" He asks, voice almost a growl. Flinching slightly, you nod. "And… you were raised at Silver Oaks?" he asks, trying to keep his voice steady, but it remains low.
Slowly, you nod, breath shuddering again. "They- I–" you stammer. "I was six when… when they…" you couldn't get the words out, eyes closing as more tears fall, missing how Azriel's eyes darken.
"Oh, sweetheart," he breathes, voice cracking.
Slowly, he gathers you into his arms, drawing you to his chest. Placing a tender kiss on your hair, he holds you as you attempt to keep your breathing even. "I was too much," you admit thickly through your tears. Azriel goes still beneath you, but you keep your eyes closed, basking in his warmth, his wing curling around you. "I couldn't help on the farm, so I wasn’t worth keeping," you repeat, the threat constantly thrown your way until they made good on that promise.
Azriel's breathing picks up slightly, but he stays eerily still beneath you. You take another breath, the shadows nudging you encouragingly. Exhaustion pulls on the edges of your mind, dampening the walls you normally keep around the memories. "I- I was no use to them," you heard yourself saying, "not after Madja–"
A loud knock echoes through the apartment. Your words die as you stiffen in Azriel's hold, eyes snapping open. The shadows still around you, their indistinct voice shifting from soft whispers to a harsh hiss. Azriel tenses beneath you, blinking the silver from his eyes, gaze hardening at the door.
You are both silent for a long moment, barely breathing before the knock sounds again. "Az," the High Lord's voice is dampened through the wood, low and hoarse, almost tired, "it's me."
You scramble in Azriel's hold, sitting up as much as you can, ignoring the rippling pain along your spine. Azriel's arms remain firm, not caging you, but keeping you close. Your heart thunders, eyes flickering wildly across the room. Instinctively, you grip tightly onto Azriel, pressing back into him. Your breath comes fast and shallow, a few hot tears burning your cheeks. The shadows flock to you even as their swirling ceases.
Azriel pulls you back into his chest. You don't resist, nearly collapsing back into him. Your body trembles in his hold, the High Lord's accusations from the night before echoing in your head. Rubbing a hand along your arm, Azriel gently shushes you, his shadows running along your body. "It's okay, my love," he hushes, voice barely a breath. "If he doesn't hear us, he might just leave." Azriel tries to add some levity to his voice, but it remains tense.
Your gaze slides to him, blinking rapidly. "Does that normally work?" you whisper, breathing shakily.
"Az, I know you're in there," the High Lord sighs, his voice echoing through the quiet apartment. "Please, can we talk?"
Azriel lets out a long, controlled breath. "Worth a shot," he mumbles. You try to laugh, it coming out a huff through your tight chest.
Slowly, carefully, Azriel shifts to settle you on the couch next to him. Grabbing your hands in one of his, he gently tilts your head until you're looking him in the eyes. "Listen to me, my love," he whispers, his gaze searching yours. "You don't owe him anything. You don't have to talk to him or even see him if you don't want to." You swallow thickly, forcing yourself to nod. A muscle feathers in his jaw. He leans in, pressing a long, gentle kiss to your cheek. "I'll deal with him," he says, voice low as he pulls away.
Slowly, Azriel stands, stalking towards the door. The shadows surround you tightly, whispering against your skin. Your hands shake, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you force your breath to remain calm. You stand, mostly unaware of the action, turning towards the door, drawing the shawl around you tightly.
The door swings open silently, and you have to take a step to the side to see around Azriel. The High Lord stood in the doorway, dark circles under his eyes, a hand running through his hair. Azriel studies him, keeping his wings drawn tight. Rhysand lets out a relieved breath, smiling weakly at his brother. "I wasn't sure you were going to answer," he admits softly.
"I almost didn't," Azriel retorts, crossing his arms over his chest.
Rhysand nods slowly, licking his lips. "I…" he starts, sighing softly. "I want to apologize."
You watch in silence, hugging yourself in the shadows' embrace as Azriel scoffs. "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."
"I know," Rhysand says, pursing his lips. "But, showing up at her place unannounced didn't seem like the best course of action," he chuckles breathlessly.
Azriel growls, taking a step towards his High Lord. Rhysand's voice fades and he tenses, squaring his shoulders, almost like he's preparing for an attack. "And you thought showing up here unannounced was better?"
The High Lord flinches slightly. "I was wrong. I shouldn't have… fuck," he breathes, running his hand through his hair again. "Can I please just speak with her? To apologize and explain."
Your breathing is still heavy and your pulse echoes in your ears, even as the shadows attempt to guide you towards the couch again. "What is there to explain, Rhys?" Azriel snarls, hands clenching at his sides. "You made your opinion very clear last night."
Rhysand lets out a heavy breath, nodding slowly. "I–"
"She doesn't want to see you," Azriel continues, cutting him off. Your grip on your shawl tightens.
"But–"
"No," Azriel barks, wings extending slightly, blocking your view of the male he considers a brother. "She does not want to see you. You don't get to argue your way out of that, Rhysand. If you have something you want to say to her, then tell me and I can pass it along."
You take a step back, your calves hitting the low coffee table behind you. The shadows rush to stabilize you, the soft thud echoing through the apartment. Azriel stills, head whipping towards you, his hard expression softening slightly, his wings extending further, almost hitting the walls. A hand flies to your mouth as if that will soften the sound, neck and cheeks heating, your back protesting the shock. Gently, the shadows guide you away from the table, but you can't bring yourself to sit despite their prompting, so you stand next to the couch, eyes fixed on the rug beneath you that doesn't look like it's from the Night Court; Summer Court maybe, or Day.
"She's here," Rhys breathes, somewhere between a statement and a question. Azriel's gaze returns to him, a low growl rumbling through his chest.
You can hear the High Lord shifting on the other side of Azriel as your mate squares his shoulders. "Just say what you came here to say, Rhysand," he demands, forcing his wings to fold just enough to provide you a sliver to see the High Lord.
Rhysand tracks the movement, eyes finding you almost immediately, a long, careful breath escaping him. "Look, I… I am sorry. Truly. I jumped to a conclusion and refused to be swayed when it turned out to be wrong. I never should have spoken to you like that, never should have… interrogated in such a way, never… well, there are quite a few things I should have done differently," he admits, just loud enough for you to hear. Your grip tightens around your shawl, the other hand coming down to wrap around your middle, eyes stinging.
"It's just…" he continues, voice bordering on desperate, "you have to understand. I've known Az since we were children. He's my brother in all but blood. In many ways, I know him better than I know myself. And I know that when he loves, he does so with his whole self, willing to put everything on the line for those he cares for," Rhysand pauses, taking another breath, eyes flickering to Azriel. "And there… there have been times when that has been used against him, against the Court." Your eyes jump to Azriel, his back still turned to you, wings almost fully tucked in, but his shoulders tense.
Pursing his lips, Rhysand looks back to you, your wide eyes meeting his for a brief moment before they drop again. "I will always do what I need to, to protect my family and my Court. So, when I recognized you as the one who had the private meeting with Theason, I wrongfully assumed the past was repeating. I pushed because I thought I could catch you in what I assumed to be a lie. And when one of the first things you answered was something we were explicitly told by our healer not to do, I thought I had."
Rhysand's eyes close for a moment, his lips pursed. Your breath picks up slightly, a few tears falling. "But then, you went into your reasonings and… either you were a really good liar, or you were telling the truth and Feyre, my mate, suffered from something with such a simple solution because we…. because I refused to look in the right places. I needed you to be lying just to prove that we didn't miss anything, that we did all we could, that what happened to Feyre was inevitable, and the only thing I could point to was your meeting with Thesan."
The High Lord chuckles drily, running a hand over his face. "Of course you can't tell us specifics of what you spoke about with him. I know how confidentiality works, and I used that against you. I am deeply sorry."
Quiet breaths shake your frame. Azriel turns slowly, watching you with a carefully neutral expression, hands still clenched at his sides. You don't even hear him move, just feel the shadows split apart before his arms wrap around you. You lean into his chest, letting his scent engulf you as you try to control your breathing, keeping your gaze fixed on the rug.
"I am not saying any of this to excuse my words," Rhysand continues. "What I did was inexcusable, but I did just want to give you a bit more context so, hopefully, you can understand where I was coming from. What happened last night, what I did and said, had nothing to do with you and should never have happened. I don't think there are words to express how sorry I am."
Your breath shudders in your chest, Azriel's arm tightening slightly around your waist, and you force yourself to nod, unable to find words. Your head hurts, dry tear tracks mar your face, your thoughts moving like molasses. The muscles in your back rage, begging you to lie down, even Azriel's support only offering slight relief, and all you can focus on is how much you want this to be over.
Rhysand takes another deep breath, nodding stiffly. "You should go," Azriel says, the gentle rumble soothing your frayed nerves.
"Yeah, of course," Rhysand agrees. His eyes find you once more. "We are having a birthday dinner for Az next week. You are welcome to come, Y/N. Only if you want, we understand if not." He gives you a sheepish smile before turning to leave. The shadows make quick work of closing the door behind him.
Your body falls into Azriel, knees buckling beneath you. Azriel doesn't flinch, gingerly guiding you back to the couch and gathering you into his lap. Your muscles ease slightly, but are still tense in his hold. Azriel sits too still beneath you; his only movements are his careful breaths and a hand rubbing soft circles along your upper back.
Everything around you feels distant and out of focus. The feel of your mate's body and his scent are the only things that feel real. Distantly, you are aware of what emotions you should be feeling: disbelief, anger, guilt, and shame, but it all feels so far away. Azriel's voice cuts through the fog gently. "I'm sorry," he breathes into your hair. "I've got you, my love."
The shadows trace gentle patterns up your arms and around your neck, and you melt further into the haze, taking comfort in the nothingness. Somewhere out there you feel the shadows guide Azriel's hands to better support your strained back, although even the pain in your back feels distant; it wasn't often that you are able to remove yourself so fully, so you embrace the opportunity.
Exhaustion pulls on your mind as you nestle further into your mate's chest. The High Lord's voice echoes through your mind, most of it disjointed and muffled, but one part breaks through. "Someone hurt you?" you ask, tongue heavy in your mouth, your words barely a breath.
For a moment, you don't think Azriel hears you. He doesn't react, tracing soft circles along your back and arms. Azriel stiffens slightly after a few seconds, the meaning of your words dawning on him, his hands hesitating for a brief moment before continuing on their paths. "Out of everything Rhys said, that is your first question?" he asks teasingly, but his voice is strained. Your grip on him tightens and Azriel lets out a long, slow breath. "It was a long time ago, my love," he admits softly, his arms tightening around you.
Carefully, you turn your head to look up at him, the odd angle angering your already inflamed muscles. "Where are they now?" you demand in a whisper.
Azriel looks down at you, wetting his lips, eyes softening. "Gone."
"Gone?" you repeat.
Studying you carefully, Azriel nods slowly. "Dead," he amends, voice clipped, adjusting his hold on you but not letting go. "She's dead."
Something odd settles in your chest at his words: relief and satisfaction and something almost protective. Nodding stiffly, you settle your head back on his chest, eyes fluttering closed. "Good."
————
Fun fact: the original plan was to have Rhys appear unannounced at her door. But then I thought about it and realized Az wouldn't leave her alone after the dinner and the training, so… here we are. The conversation had to be reworked with Az, but it gets us where we need to go in the end.
Thank you all so much for reading!
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