I’ll Crawl Home To Her (Azriel x Reader)
AN: This was supposed to be based off But Daddy I Love Him but it morphed into something else but I'm kinda happy about it.
Summary: The story of how the princess of Velaris and the shadowsinger came to be.
Warnings: blood, injury, dickhead dads, bit of smut but it's not too descriptive (It's for the plot), angst, fluffy ending.
Word count: 8053
As a princess I was told that “hate” is a very strong word. Consequently, there weren’t a lot of things that I hated. For example, I greatly disliked when my tea came with too much milk, and I absolutely despised corsets. But if there was one thing I hated, and I mean truly hated, it was my father.
If it wasn’t for the way he treated my mother and older brother then it would be the way he treated me. How he kept me from my beloved, my brother's best friend, the shadowsinger, my Azriel.
Azriel had been mine long before my father ever knew about it. When I grew to be 207 my mother finally convinced my father to let me go to Windhaven with her to visit Rhys. I hadn’t seen my brother in years, as he had begun training with the Illyrians.
He wrote me letters of course, detailing friends and enemies he made along the way. Two of which stood out to me, Cassian and Azriel. However these letters never made up for him in the flesh, which is why during my first trip to Windhaven I had never been so excited. To this day I still remember it…
The winter wind stung my cheeks as snow clung to the furs of my cloak. It was as if no matter how many layers I wore the wind found its way to barrel through and nip at my skin.
I found myself walking along the edge of the camp, where the light of the fires couldn't reach me and only the moon gave me the ability to see. When my mother and I arrived at the little cabin Rhys was not there, after speaking to Devlon we found he was on assignment and would be home soon.
After a few hours in the cabin I began to feel claustrophobic, so I took a walk around the heavily wooded area. There was something magic about the first snow of the season. The way the snow covered the ground and crunched under my boots. White capped trees that looked like they were frosted by the gods, and the still silence that came from the insulation the blanket of white provided.
“It’s a little cold out don’t you-” a voice crooned behind me and stopped abruptly as I turned to face him.
Standing frozen just a few feet from me was an Illyrian male with his mouth agape at the sight of me. He was large, his wings the biggest I had ever seen. Inky black hair framed his carved face as his hazel eyes frozen in shock as if he had just seen a ghost.
“Forgive me,” he said, shaking his head a bit, as if to clear the fog from his mind. “It’s just that I don’t see many beautiful things up here, you startled me.”
My cheeks flush and I pray he thinks it's from the cold and not the butterflies in my stomach.
“I find that hard to believe when this is your view,” I smile, gesturing to the snow valley below us. “There’s nothing more beautiful than the first snowfall of the year.”
Footsteps crunch behind me as he comes up on my right, “Perhaps, but it pales in comparison to you,” he smirks and this time I know he can tell he’s the reason my cheeks are pink. “Might I have the honor of knowing your name?”
I turn to meet his gaze once more but before I can answer back I hear a shout coming from far away.
“Y/N!” my brother shouts charging towards me.
“Rhys!” I call back running into his embrace.
He lets out a groan as I leap into his arms, a pile of furs and wool as I pull him into me. The scent of sea salt and citrus filling my nose, the warmth of him seeping through my clothes.
“Ahh little sister I’ve missed you,” Rhys says, setting me down to get a good look at me.
“Little sister?” called the male behind me, his snow crunching footsteps coming towards Rhysand and I’s side.
“It seems you’ve already met her, this is my little sister, y/n.”Rhys beams, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Y/n this is my very good friend, Azriel.”
“Azriel,” I blink, holding out my hand for the shadowsinger to shake. How had I not realized? Rhysand’s letters spoke of his shadowsinger friend, now that I looked at him, and I mean really looked at him, I could see the dark matter swirling around him.
“Princess,” he says, bowing his head and pressing a kiss to my hand. “It is an honor to meet you. You’ll have to forgive my previous informality, I didn’t know who you were.”
Rhysand let out a hearty laugh behind me, “Azriel my friend there is no need for such formalities, in fact my sister detests them.” he smiles.
“It’s true, you can just call me y/n, I’m sure that we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other in the years to come.” I smile hoping I was speaking the truth into existence.
“Come, mother has made dinner for all of us and you have yet to meet Cassian,” Rhys said enthusiastically, throwing an arm over my shoulder.
From that day forward I found myself spending more and more time at Windhaven, in hopes of seeing Azriel. Sometimes I would see him for only a minute or so, other times he would be able to stay and have dinner with my mother, myself and of course Rhys and Cass.
Those were always my favorite nights when he and I would share stolen glances across the table. Sometimes we might brush hands reaching for the carafe of wine, other times I would feel his boot brush my ankle under the table. Both of us danced around the other like flickering flames.
It wasn’t until a few years later when all three of them conquered the blood rite that Azriel and I were finally able to admit our feelings for one another…
We stood behind one of the many rows of cabins, the sound of laughing warriors celebrating their victories or mourning their losses ran through the camp. Before he even spoke I knew why he asked me to meet him back here, I could feel the tension between us both.
“I’m tired of acting like I don’t care about you. I’m tired of saying “nothing” whenever Rhys and Cassian ask me what’s on my mind. I’m tired of trying to hide that everytime I come back to camp that I’m looking for you and hoping I can see you for just one second. I’m tired of pretending I don’t love you,” Azriel confesses, caging me against the back wall of a cabin.
“Azriel I-” I begin but he cuts me off.
“When we were on the mountain, there was a moment where there was a dagger to my throat and I thought I was going to die. I thought I would leave this world without telling you how much I loved you. If it wasn’t for Cassian that would’ve been the case. I won’t make the same mistakes twice,” he finished.
“Azriel, I love you too,” I shuddered a sigh, aware of how close he was to me.
The second the words left my mouth he was on me, large hands encircling my waist as I felt every inch of his body pressed against mine. His breath was hot on my face, contrasting the bitter cold of the night air.
“Can I kiss you?” he breathed, lips mere inches from mine.
“Please,” I begged, but once again the word hung in the air for mere seconds before his mouth was on mine.
Every part of it felt so right. His hands on my waist, my fingers in his hair, his lips on mine claiming me in a way that made my head spin. My arms pulled him as close as possible, needing to feel him, smell that scent of rain, leather and whatever intoxicating cologne he was wearing. I was so drunk on him that I was shaken when I heard a hearty laugh ring out through the camp.
I pulled back immediately realizing what was happening, “Oh my gods, we can’t do this here, my brother he-”
“Shhh, shhh,” he cooed, brushing a stray hair behind my ear. “I talked to Rhys about it, I have his blessing to court you. He took it rather well, he actually seemed excited.” Azriel laughed, pressing a kiss to my forehead as he held me closer, his body blocking the wind from seeping into my clothes.
“Oh Azriel,” I smile, kissing him hard as I feel him lifting me into the air, my head spinning just as fast as he spun me.
We spent the rest of that night lying on a blanket in a field away from the world. The sound of distant celebrations making us laugh every now and then. At some point I could’ve sworn I heard Cassian singing a tale of an old drunk warrior.
I had tried to tell Azriel that he should join his brothers in their celebration but he insisted that he would much rather spend his few moments of peace with me. It was one of the best nights of my life.
Our relationship was kept secret from everyone but Rhys and Cassian. Even my mother, who always accompanied me to Windhaven, was kept in the dark. No one with close ties to my father could know. That being said, it was hard for Azriel and I to find quiet moments together.
Most of the time we met in the woods behind camp. Azriel would go away and bring me little trinkets, pretty rocks and feathers he found while in the mountains. In the spring he always came with a freshly picked bouquet of wildflowers. We always ended up making out and getting carried away, on more than one occasion I tried to take things further but he never let me.
“I won’t have the first time I bed you in the woods. You’re a princess, you deserve a soft bed to be worshiped on.”
Was what he always said to me. While I appreciated the sentiment, I couldn’t help but wish for more.
It wasn’t until a few months later that I finally saw an opening. Father and mother were going to be at a meeting in the Winter Court, leaving Velaris in the care of Rhys. More importantly the cabin at Windhaven would be empty. That night was truly the best night of my life.
My back hits the warm sheets below me as Azriel looks at my bare body with hungry eyes. I had never been with a male before, my father and mother dead set on having me intact for whatever husband they shackled me to. But Azriel would be my husband, even if he wasn’t noble or the son of a High Lord he was mine, and I was his. I didn’t care how many rules I had to break to have him.
“My beautiful, beautiful princess,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to my neck.
His hands wander the expanse of my bare skin, both warming and leaving goosebumps wherever they trail. I arch my back into him, needing more, needing the very essence of him branded into me.
“Azriel I need more,” I breathe tugging on the ends of his hair.
He had already stripped me bare and kissed every square inch of me before falling to his knees and feasting on me like I was his last meal. I had read about such sinful touches before, dreamt about experiencing those sensations with him at night. None of it compared to the real thing.
“Are you sure about this?” He asks me once more, brushing the hair from my face.
“I’m sure, I want it to be you,” I nod running my hands through his hair again.
The wild twinkle in his eyes was enough to make my toes curl as he smiled at me, “I promise to be gentle, to make you feel good,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my lips.
“I trust you Az,” I nod and his lips kick up again at his nickname.
I feel him nudge and my entrance and my breath hitches as he inches himself inside. The stretch was painful, but the sting faded as he peppered kisses all over my face, whispering sweet nothings to me.
“Shh you’re doing so well princess…”
“You’re so beautiful…”
“Can you feel me? Can you feel us?”
“I love you…”
I must’ve seen stars a million times that night. His gentle nature only made me fall deeper in love with him. It wasn’t the brutal fucking I had heard about in taverns and from drunk men at balls. He had taken his time, and been even more gentle than he had promised me.
We made love a dozen times that night. Kissed and touched and worshiped until I fell asleep, bathed and warm in his arms.
The next morning was hard to face. Knowing we had to leave the cabin and act as if we didn’t spend the entire night exchanging souls, and tangled in eachothers arms.
Az especially was on edge, so much so that when a younger male offered to tie my boot for me Azriel marched over and pushed him into the mud before pulling my foot onto his bent knee and tying it himself.
Of course I yelled at him for being an Illyrian baby while Rhys and Cassian laughed and poked fun at their friend. Azriel just huffed and shot a warning glance at the poor male who had tried to tie my boot.
From there on out we spent every possible moment together. I would tell my father that I was visiting friends in other courts just so I could see Azriel, which wasn’t often. As the war between humans and fae grew more iminanent I saw less and less of the shadowsinger. Our meetings became more fervent, and well…passionate. We became careless and it’s what ended up tearing him away from me for good.
My back was pressed against the cabin wall, my hands pinned by my head as Azriel’s lips consumed mine. We had no longer than an hour together before he would be set back to scout for Hybern’s troops, but we intended to make the most of it.
“I missed you,” he breathed into my neck.
“I missed you too, two weeks is too long,” I murmured, breathing in his scent. He always left me one of his many shirts to sleep in but it never did compare to the real thing.
“I don’t have much time, they’re sending me to the border to scout for Hybern’s troops,” he says in between kisses.
Scarred hands drift over my waist and graze my bum as I feel him collecting fist fulls of my skirt. Before my dress can be pushed up much further than my knees the door to the cabin barges open, startling both of us. Azriel placed his hand on one of the daggers strapped to his side, but not even he could defend me from who stepped through the threshold.
“What the hells is going on here?” My father’s voice boomed from the doorway, the cold air from outside seeping into the place that was once our own.
I peek out from behind Azriel’s shoulder to find not only my father but Lord Devlon standing before us. My fathers eyes locked on mine, and white hot fear seared my nerves.
“What are you doing with my daughter?!” My father roared, his power slamming Azriel aside.
“Father no!” I scream, clinging to his arm to interrupt his antics.
Devlon screamed for backup to come as Azriel’s feet hit the floor again. The commotion outside beginning to stir.
“My lord, I-” Azriel starts to explain but my father cuts him off.
“You will not speak unless spoken to, you bastard born brute!” my father screams as Devlon’s men come to detain the Shadowsinger.
“Father stop it! He didn’t take advantage of me, we’ve been seeing each other.” I plead with my father as tears start to well up in my eyes.
“What?!” he scoffed, looking at me like I was a common whore. “You are promised to one of the sons of Spring and yet you soil yourself with filth of his kind?”
“He’s not filth. He’s Rhys’ friend, and he’s good, brave and kind.” I beseech him as I hear Azriel struggle against the men who have him bound.
My father takes a deep breath and turns his gaze from me. The sound of his boots crossing the wooden floors to stand before Azriel are the loudest most impending sound I had ever heard. He stands before my shadowsinger before raising his hand and letting his fist collide with that beautiful face I had spent so long kissing.
My gasp reverberates through the room but Azriel doesn’t make a sound, as if he’s challenging my father, or proving his worth.
“What should we do with him?” my father asks, not taking his eyes off Az.
“The boy has completed the rite, we can send him to one of the battalions on the border. Perhaps the trash will take itself out,” Devlon laughs. I had known that the Lord had a chip on his shoulder for my brother and his friends. But sending him to the slaughter?
“Father please I love him!” I cry falling to my knees before my father, grasping his hand. I would never beg my father for anything, never fall to my knees for anyone. But for this I would… for Azriel, I would die on my knees.
Despite my pleading my fathers gaze never falters from where it is fixed on Azriel. As if he’s trying to decide if he should slit his throat now or let him die on a battlefield. Azriel’s face remains steadfast and strong, showing no signs of weakness, like he will accept whatever punishment befalls him with the grace of a warrior.
“Send him,” he says resolutely before turning away.
“NO PLEASE!” I beseech as my father hauls me to my feets again, but my knees are giving out under me.
“It is done,” his gruff voice says in my ear as I watch them haul Azriel to his feet. “One day you’ll thank me.”
I watch as they pull Azriel toward the door. Dragging him unnecessarily letting his wings drape across the ground. It was all happening so fast and could be the last time I ever saw his face.
“Let me say goodbye! Please let me say goodbye!” I shouted thrashing in my fathers grasp. Needing to touch Az one last time, needing one more moment with him.
Azriel’s eyes were frantic as he heard my screams, as he watched my father use his strength to detain me.
“Listen! Listen!” he called trying to get me to stop my frantic blubbering, the guards pulling him out the door. “You have to be strong princess. I love you , and I will find you again, if not in this life than in the next!” he shouts as he is hauled past the threshold of the cabin.
“Azriel!” I scream, my voice cracking under the weight of my tears.
“I love you!” he shouts again from the outside of the cabin.
“I love you!” I call back to him, not knowing if I’ll ever get another chance to say it.
That was six months ago...
Since then the war had gotten more and more bloody, and unavoidable. As far as I knew Azriel was still alive. I hadn’t seen him since the night he was ripped from my arms, a night I often had nightmares about. I sent him letters whenever possible and every so often I would get one back.
I could tell he had tried to send more, as every date on the ones that did make it through were skewed. The most recent one, dated two months ago, burned a hole in the pocket of my dress. The folds were so worn from reading that I feared they may fall apart the next time I opened it.
My love,
I am alive and well, though my battalion has suffered great losses. More and more Illyrians are sent to the frontlines every day to take the place of the dead. There are times I wonder if a wide eyed recruit will ever take my place…
At night I lie in bed and dream of you lying next to me, your warmth. Or the way your hair looks sprawled in swirling over the green grass when you’re under me. The sound of your voice calling my attention. The softness of your hands. The night you came undone for me in the cabin.
My only consolation is that when I look up at the night sky. I know you are looking at those same stars. And if what I’m doing is keeping you safe. Keeping you fed and swathed in those blue silks that drive me crazy. Then I will sleep in this tent and fight alongside my peers happily. My love is safe and warm because of me.
I love you, and I will return to you.
Yours eternally,
Azriel
I fold the tattered parchment with gloved hands and tuck it securely into the pocket of my dress. The shouts of men and the clash of swords outside my tent drown out the peace I had struggled to preserve.
Hybern’s army had marched on Velaris and while the border hadn’t been breached, my father decided it was unsafe to leave my mother and I there. My mother was sent to a camp with my father where he would watch over her, I was sent to Rhys’ camp.
The flap of the tent is thrown open, my brother charges in wearing his leathers, his hair disheveled and a letter in hand.
“What is it?” I stand upon seeing the worry gracing his face.
Armies had been marching upon another camp a few miles away. If they had breached the encampment that would mean they were coming for us next. We would have just minutes to evacuate and find a safe place.
“The men were able to hold the front lines,” he says, setting down his swords with a sigh that told me that there was still news to be revealed.
“Then what is it?” I asked quietly, unsure of whether or not I wanted to know the truth he had to say.
Violet eyes met my own, in them, a sorrow and worry I had not yet seen from my brother, “It’s Azriel.” he said.
My heart stopped and my world quieted as I perched myself on a nearby chair, not trusting my legs to keep me upright. Not when my heart lay in the balance, the very reason I was alive.
“He was injured, severely. He may be dying y/n.” he said sadly, coming to stand before me.
May be dying. Which meant he was alive, which meant there was still a chance.
My head snaps up to him, a new fire in my gaze that no one had seen in six months.
“Take me to him,” I ordered my brother as I stood to collect my cloak.
“You’re asking me to take you, my sister, to the front lines. I won’t do it.” Rhys shakes his head.
“I am going with or without you Rhys,” I say firmly, wrapping my cloak around my shoulders.
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair before picking his swords up again and strapping them to his sides. With my hood over my head and my brother's hand at my back we made our way out into the night. Once we reached the wards at the edge of the camp we winnowed to the encampment near the frontlines.
Immediately as we walked through the rows of tents and campfires I could tell that these males had seen hell. All of them looked significantly worse than the males at the camp we had just come from. Most of them were caked in mud and blood, some were drunk on whatever filled their cups. All of them were loud and rowdy and most likely celebrating their last nights in this life.
Rhys led me through the camp, until we arrived at a lonely tent in the center. It was large and from the outside I could practically smell Azriel. I bolted for the entrance and threw open the flaps, my heart racing, unsure if I would find him alive or dead.
But there he was, breathing. Leaning against the back of his bed with a large bandage over his left thigh. He was awake and refreshingly himself, as if nothing was truly wrong and most importantly he was alive.
I run to him throwing my arms around his neck, “Oh Azriel,” I coo breathing him in.
“Y/n?” he says, his mind clearly still foggy.
I pull back to cup his face, whoever had healed him has cleaned him up, the small cut above his eyebrow already starting to heal, “Az,” I breathe.
His hand comes to cup my face, “How are you here? This can’t be real,” his eyes search my face as if to try and wake up from a dream.
I place a kiss on his lips, “I’m real, I’m here,” I assure him as tears spill from my eyes. “They told me you were dying.”
“I am well, it was a deep cut but the healers say I’ll be okay,” he assures me as his eyes continue to take me in.
I let my eyes do the same, taking in every cut and bruise on him, even the patched holes in his wings no doubt from arrows piercing the beautiful, leathery flesh.
“Faebane?” Rhys’ voice croons from the entrance of the tent as he watches us, it seemed that his nerves were also settled upon seeing Azriel well.
“Yep,” Azriel said nonchalantly, but his eyes told the truth of how happy he was to see my brother, or maybe how relieved.
“Hurts like a bitch doesn’t it?” Rhys chuckles stepping into the tent and closing the flap.
My eyes widened at his causal tone, “How can you both be so docile about this? He could’ve died.” I exclaim, looking Azriel over once more in case I missed any lingering wounds.
Azriel's chest rumbles with a chuckle, “Shhh my love. Everything will be alright.” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “But what are you doing here? It isn’t safe.”
“The border of Velaris is almost breached,” Rhys started from behind me. “We couldn’t leave her and my mother there, it wasn’t safe.”
“Mother is with father and I’m with Rhys. We found out you were injured and just a camp away and I asked him to take me to you.” I continue Rhys’ explanation.
Azriel cuts Rhys a somewhat harsh look as if to say ‘why the hell would you take her somewhere so dangerous?’
“You needed to see each other,” Rhys explains further. “If anything were to happen to you and I didn’t let you two say goodbye, I would never forgive myself.”
Azriel’s shoulders softened in understanding before turning to me once more, “You have to go princess,” he said, eyes full of sorrow.
My breath hitches as I stumble back a little from where I sit next to him, “What? No, I won’t leave you,” I say resolutely.
He cups the side of my face, “Please it’s not safe here,” he eyes pleading as his voice falters.
I go to argue but Rhys speaks up behind me, “He’s right y/n, It’s the most vulnerable camp we have.” my brother says, his words solemn.
“I don’t care!” I exclaim turning back to brush Azriel’s hair from his face. “I’m not leaving him Rhys, we will be okay.”
Azriel’s eyes flare, “Look at me!” he shouts gesturing to his leg. “I can’t protect you here,” his voice is laced with frustration, not at my unwillingness to leave, but his inability to do the one thing he swore to always do, protect me.
“Then I’ll die here with you!” I proclaim, fiercely. “If you cannot protect me, then you cannot protect yourself. Please Azriel, please don’t make me leave.” I cry lying down on his chest, gripping the leathers there, as if it might keep my brother from ripping me away.
“I can’t,” I sob as my words get caught in my throat. “I can’t lose you again I-”
“Shhh,” Azriel coos, his hand stroking my hair as he pulls me into his chest. “You’ll stay here in my arms.” he assures me and I’m finally able to relax into his touch.
“Y/n, I can’t stay here. I need to go back to my own troops and prepare them for tomorrow,” my brother said softly, not trying to persuade me to return, but to inform me of the increasing danger.
“I understand,” I say standing to say goodbye.
“I’ll come back for you tomorrow morning, before the troops march,” he said, his words tinged with sorrow.
I take in the sight of my brother looking defeated, a look I so rarely saw on him. It broke me to realize I might never see him after this. If the enemy marched on this camp there would be no one to keep Azriel and I from the slaughter given his injury.
“Okay,” I whispered, my voice cracking as I threw myself onto my beloved brother.
Rhys said his goodbyes to Azriel, both of them not wanting to get too deep, say too much, for fear of manifesting defeat on both sides. When my brother exited the tent I took my spot next to Azriel on his large cot and waited for either death or the sunrise.
Later in the night, the raucous from outside got louder and louder disturbing my sleep. When I raised my head from Azriel’s chest I found that his eyes remained open and fixed on the tent entrance, like he was ready to challenge anyone who dared to walk through despite his inability to walk.
“Hey,” I smiled weakly, my voice shaky from sleep.
“Hey,” he smiled back, pushing a hair from my face.
I moved back the blanket to check the gash in his thigh. Lifting the white bandage, I could see that it was almost completely soaked through, if I left it that way he would never get better.
I throw my legs over the edge of the cot and search for my discarded cloak, “You need fresh bandages or you’ll get an infection. I’m going to go get you some.”
“Y/n don’t you dare leave this tent. There are war bound men out there looking for one last lay before they leave this world,” he pleads, reaching for my hand that’s just out of reach.
“I’ll only be a moment Az,” I assure him before raising my hood and slipping out of the tent.
I can hear him shouting my name as I exit, but his protests are quickly drowned out by the sound of drunken men. Azriel was right, these men were drunk and not in their right mind. But if that wound got infected and he died I would never forgive myself. So I kept my head down walking towards the medic tent I passed on my way in, ignoring rambunctious cheers and stumbling men.
The light of the medic tent comes into view and relief washes over me swiftly before the rug is pulled out from under me and I run smack into a broad chest.
“Well what do we have here?” laughs a drunken male. I can smell the sweat and alcohol on him.
“Looks like we have a little birdy who lost her way,” laughs a male from my right.
My feet take two steps back before bumping into another mountain of a male. His hand comes up to rip the hood off my head, if all three of them recognized me as their princess they didn’t show it. My pulse began to race as I frantically looked for a way out of this hell.
“What’s a beauty like you doing out here?” crooned the male behind me.
I put on a stoic face, “I’m leaving if you’ll excuse me,” I state, but before I can even take my first step I feel large hands grasping my shoulders holding me in place.
“Whoever bought you for the night must’ve paid a pretty penny,” jested the man to my right.
“What do ya say darlin? Are you gonna give these brave men a proper send off?” the man behind me says low into my ear as he grabs me around the middle, plucking me off the ground.
I start kicking trying to break free, my screamed muffled by his hand over my mouth. All the trashing in the world wasn’t enough to break their hold as the other two males descended upon me, as if they were willing to take me right there in the middle of camp.
“I’ll thank you to take your hands off my princess,” drawled a voice from behind me.
The eyes of the three men surrounding me went wide at whatever figure stood behind us, all three of them scurrying off to gods knew where. I turn slowly to face whoever my rescuer was, and I’m met with a mountain of sheer muscle and bright red siphons.
“Cassian!” I cried running to throw my arms around the burly warrior, I hadn’t seen him in over a year.
He hugs me tighter, the kind of bear hug only he could provide. It was clear to me that he missed me just as much as I had missed him. When he releases me he bends down to cup my face, and wipe away the tears I didn’t know had fallen.
“Princess, what are you doing here? Where is your brother?” he asked, brows furrowed.
“Rhys brought me here but he’s gone now, he’s gone back to his own camp but he’ll be back tomorrow,” I say as Cassian continues to wipe away the fresh tears, this time tears of happiness and not fear.
Cassain stands up as if to assess for danger before tossing an arm around me, “Stay with me, I’ll keep you safe. Where is Azriel? I was told he was injured,” he asks, remaining vigilant.
“He’s okay, I was just getting him fresh bandages,” I report, pointing Cassian towards the medic tent.
“He let you leave his tent?!” he balks corralling me inside the tent.
“Uh, no. Not really,” I laugh nervously.
He rolls his eyes and grabs a few armfuls of bandages before shoving them into my arms. We weave through drunken men who do a good job of staying at least three feet away from me, no doubt seeing The Lord of Bloodshed trailing me.
I throw open the flap of Azriel’s tent, running to his side at once.
“Oh thank the mother,” he sighs in relief upon seeing me.
I laugh at his fussing and begin dressing his wound, “Look who I found,” I say nodding my head to where Cassian stands behind me.
“I believe I found you,” Cassian corrects me, sheer amusement in his voice.
“Cass!” Azriel beams as his brother gives him an affectionate smack on the shoulder.
“Brother you look a little worse for wear,” Cassian chuckles looking at the wound I was currently cleaning.
“I’ve been better,” Azriel winces as I wrap the wound in a clean bandage.
“I heard what happened and came as soon as I could. Ran right into your princess here, causing trouble as usual,” the warrior chortles beside me making me roll my eyes.
“What?” Azriel asked, more alert than he previously was.
“You were right, the men out there are assholes,” I scoff, tying off the fresh bandage.
“Did they touch you?” he inquired, his eyes ablaze.
“Az it’s fine Cass was there,” I assure him placing a hand on his shoulder feeling the palpable tension there, like he was ready to pounce.
“Y/n did they put their hands on you?” he asks again, this time more unyielding than before.
“Yes but look at me, I'm fine!” I say with an exasperated sigh.
Azriel’s eyes flit to Cassian as he extends his hand to his brother, like he needs support.
“Cassian help me up,” he orders, already scooting to the edge of the cot.
“Azriel don’t you dare!” I shout smacking his chest. “Enough with the territorial, Illyrian nonsense! You’re injured, you’re going to get yourself killed!”
The shadowsingers body slumps back into bed in defeat with a huff, clearly upset he couldn’t pummel the shit out of a couple of lowly males who weren’t worth it in the first place.
Cassian’s chuckle reverberated through the tent, “Good to see you two picking up right where you left off,” he joked, remembering all the times we had similar quarrels.
It was the early hours of morning, and while the sun was still hiding behind the mountains, it would be rearing its ugly head soon enough. The partying and cheering from outside the tent had died down. Men either passing out drunk or choosing sleep over thoughts of what might happen tomorrow.
Cassian snored softly in the corner of the tent in the chair he took up. He had elected to stay behind and watch over us at Azriel’s request and I was smart enough to not argue with two Illyrians.
I layed on Azriel’s chest, waiting for sleep to claim me but it never came. Sleep didn’t find Azriel as well, his hand twirling through the strands of my unbound hair as we sat in silence.
“You know what kept me alive out there on that battlefield after I was injured?” Azriel whispered into the night.
“A healer that I’ll be paying a very handsome bonus to?” I laugh squeezing my arms around him a bit.
“No, you” he said seriously rubbing my shoulder
“Me?” I gawk, sitting up so I could look him in the eye.
“Yes, you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “When I was downed they thought I was dead. Horses and men clamored over me. It was all so loud, such a blur but then I closed my eyes and there you were.” he said looking at the canopy of the tent, as if remembering the event.
“It was a memory from the first time I saw you, before I even knew who you were. You were standing in the snow waiting for Rhys and your mother and there was snow all over your hair. It was the first snow of the year and you were entranced just like you always are.” He chuckles, pulling me closer. “But I knew then and there that I had to open my eyes. Had to get up. Even if it was just to see your face one more time, kiss your lips, tell you I love you. I woke up in this tent reeling from it. I could’ve sworn you were here, in the vision I felt your touch. And then hours later you storm in here with your fussing and worrying.” he says.
I feel a tear roll down my face as I cup his face, pulling his gaze from the canopy to me. I pulled his letter out of my dress pocket, the paper flopping about from how many times it had been folded and unfolded.
“I kept this letter with me every single day. I must’ve read it a hundred times, hells I might even have it memorized.” I laugh, shaking the paper in my hands. “I never once gave up hope that I would see you again. No matter what happens after tonight I still won’t give up hope. I know I’ll find you again.”
Azriel chuckles, pressing his forehead to mine, “I’d crawl home to you if I had to princess,” he says resolutely.
I wake the next morning to the sound of men moving about outside the tent and an empty cot. The covers before me are still disheveled from where Azriel slipped out from under me. I threw the blankets off the bed and pulled my cloak from where I set it last night, fastening it to my shoulders.
When I toss open the flaps of the tent I’m momentarily blinded by the bright sun before the sight of men collecting their weapons and armor come into focus. My eyes darted frantically for a trace of Azriel, surely he couldn’t have gone far, surely he wasn’t going to fight today.
“Azriel!” I call out roaming around looking for a flash of a blue siphon.
Heavy footsteps come up behind me grabbing my arm and I turn around to be met with Cassian. I looked back to the tent and realized he had been keeping watch outside.
“Cass, where is he?” I ask him, but all I’m met with is a heavy gaze from Cassian.
“Y/n?” calls a voice from behind me and I turn to see my father, mother and brother walking towards us.
My mother runs over to me taking me into her arms and holding me close. It was clear to me that they had found Rhys and instantly questioned why I wasn’t under his care.
“Thank the gods,” my mother breathed taking in my unharmed appearance.
“You smell like that Illyrian brute,” my father sneered and I knew right away he ment Azriel.
“He could have been dying,” I reply with equal venom, my gaze narrowing at the man who went through such great lengths to keep us apart.
“Of course, why do you think I sent him to the frontlines again today?” he scoffed, already turning his attention to the hordes of men preparing for battle.
My blood turned to ice in my veins and my heart plummeted.
“What?” I cried looking at Rhys who wore a solemn look on his face. “Rhys, you knew?”
My brother lets out a shaky breath, “I knew before we even arrived last night. When he tried to get you to leave I used daemati to tell him he was being sent to the front lines. He knew it would be the last time he ever saw you.” he confessed.
He knew.
Haste clouds my mind and I turn to run in the same direction with the rest of the men, my father and brother joining their ranks without another word. My mother catches me around the shoulders and pulls me into her embrace as my knees hit the muddy ground beneath us.
“No, no, no, no no!” I scream trying to run to the front, as if I could keep Azriel from death myself.
“The battle is not yet over sweetheart, he may still live,” My mother coos stroking my hair.
“He was injured mother,” my words come out as sobs as I cling to her cloak.
“Have faith,” she pleads, kneeling on the ground with me, trying to calm me as best she can.
“Azriel,” I cry. “My Azriel.”
I give into my mothers embrace and after a while she ushers me toward a tent. She wipes my face with a cool towel trying to calm my swollen eyes, but it’s no use. Every war cry, and ear rupturing blast feels like the one that takes Azriel’s life. Each one sends me back into a mess of shallow breaths and tears.
Only when the battle cries fade, and the blasts of siphons and raw power cease do my tears stop. Soldiers and Illyrains come filtering back to the camp, some whole, some being carried by their peers. My brother and Cassain are the first to find us. Rhys was unharmed, but Cassian was wheeled to a healer immediately. Thankfully, she claimed he would be alright.
I took to the masses, weaving through men making their way back occasionally running into some as my eyes were focused on the skies. Searching amongst the hordes of Illyrians flying in. If Azriel was anywhere it would be there.
“Azriel!” I shouted, my voice going hoarse from the screaming I had been doing.
More and more Illyrians fly overhead, not one of them resembling my Azriel. If he was amongst them he would see me standing out like a sore thumb amongst the rabble, going against the grain of everyone before me.
“AZRIEL!” I call out even louder, cupping my hands around my mouth as if it will help.
“Y/N!”
I hear my voice being called, not from the skies, but from the ground. My eyes snap to the crowds before me before I see a pair of wings over the top of a million heads.
“AZRIEL?!” I call out moving in the direction of the voice that called to me.
Then I see him, my Azriel. The wound on his leg is split open and his wings are pierced with a dozen arrows which explains his inability to fly. But he’s there, and he’s whole, and alive.
“Y/n!” he calls out to me again.
I pick up the skirts of my dress running to him, my shoulders bumping into all the men I weave around. I jump into his arms feeling him pick me up, pulling me impossibly close.
“Oh Az,” I breathe running a hand through his hair as my feet hit the ground again, his eyes assessing me for any injury. “My love, I thought I would never see you again,” I cried.
His thumbs wipe away my tears as he cups my face, “Death, nor a thousand evil men could keep me from you,” he smiled before pulling me into his chest.
As we hold each other, the chaos around us fades into the background. For a moment, time stands still, and all that matters is that we are together. He was here, in my arms and he was alive. Both of us were, and there were many more years ahead of us. Many, many more years.
Epilogue: third person pov
Rhysand and Feyre stood in the living room of the townhouse. The world outside was near silent as Velaris slept, having spent the day celebrating solstice. Even the faelights in the home seemed to have dimmed. Members of the Inner Circle worked to clean the dessert plates off the table where they had their magnificent feast.
“And that’s their story,” Rhys finished saying to his mate, rubbing her shoulder as they continued to admire the scene before them.
On the large couch before them y/n was asleep on top of an even sleepier Azriel, his arms, legs and wings all but draping off the edges just to keep her comfortable.
When Feyre stumbled into the adorable scene it had occurred to her that she had never heard the story of how the two came to be. Rhysand was more than happy to tell her the tale of forbidden love and near death experiences.
“They’ve been through so much,” Feyre said, leaning into Rhysand’s touch.
“They truly have,” Rhys nods, pressing a kiss to his mate's temple. “But now they get to eat too much turkey every solstice and skip out on dish duty so I think it worked out okay.” he chuckles.
Feyre slaps him on the chest playfully but laughs right along with them watching as the pair lounges on the couch, mouths open and completely and utterly relaxed. The High Lord and Lady turn from the living room to rejoin the rest of their family in the kitchen. There would be time to make fun of the princess and the shadowsinger tomorrow.
They had all the time in the world.
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