Under The Stars | Azriel x reader
summary: years ago you made a pact with Azriel that if the two of you were single in 20 years, you'd marry each other. As you two reflect on this promise years later, Azriel admits something that he has been hiding since that day.
warnings: none!
Azriel stood on the balcony of the House of Wind, his elbows resting on the railing as he gazed up at the stars. You could see the tightness in his shoulders, the way his posture was just a little too stiff. It was clear that he was in pain, his heart breaking in a way that made yours ache for him. You had no idea why, though. He had been upset the whole day and refused to speak with anyone.
You moved quietly to his side, mirroring his stance, and offered a gentle, “Hey.”
“Hey,” he replied, his voice soft but carrying a depth of sadness that cut through you.
Looking up at the night sky, you ventured, “Wanna tell me why you’re sad?”
Azriel inhaled deeply and after a couple of seconds spoke so softly you barely heard him. “What if I can’t find anyone? What if no one likes me?”
Furrowing your brows, you turned to him. “Why would you think that?” you asked.
Azriel shrugged, mumbling, “I don’t know,” while looking down at his hands. “Maybe I’ll always be too much of a weirdo for love,” he let out a hollow laugh.
“You’re not too much of a weirdo,” you said softly. “You’re just the right amount of weird, Az. I’m sure one of these days, someone will come along who will love you exactly as you are. They won’t try to change you or ask you to give more than you have, and they won’t give you for the world.”
Azriel gave a hollow laugh, the sound devoid of true humour. “It’s been five centuries. I can’t imagine a miracle happening now.”
Your heart twisted further at the weight of his words. The pain etched into his features and the hopelessness in his eyes were almost too much to bear. You took a deep breath and decided to offer a glimmer of light.
“Hey,” you said, trying to sound more upbeat, “if things don’t work out, we could always marry each other.”
He turned to you, a surprised smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “What?”
“I’m serious!” you insisted, trying to keep the mood light. “If, in 20 years, we’re both still single, let’s make a pact. We’ll marry each other.”
Azriel’s gaze was sceptical but intrigued. “Why would you want that?”
You took a moment to consider your answer, glancing up at the stars once more before meeting his eyes. “Well, we’ve been friends for over a century. We know each other well, and we get along great. We live in the same house, so there’s really nothing we don’t know about each other. And,” you added softly, “I care about you, Az.”
His eyes softened, and a warmth spread through his gaze as he looked at you. “I care about you, too, Y/n.”
A genuine smile broke across your face at his words. “So it’s settled, then! In 20 years, if we’re still single, we’ll marry each other.” You extended your hand toward him, hoping he would agree.
Azriel hesitated for a moment, a mixture of scepticism and amusement dancing across his features. Then he reached out, his hand clasping yours firmly. “Deal,” he said with a small, hopeful smile.
You squeezed his hand and gave him a reassuring look. “I won’t let you die alone, Shadowsinger,” you whispered. “You’re much too precious for that.”
At that moment, Azriel looked at you as if you had hung the stars in the sky. He pulled you into a tight hug and you felt the tension leave his shoulders.
You chuckled softly as Liam animatedly recounted the stories from your date. When you reached your door, he gave you a wistful smile, the kind that suggested he wished the evening could last a bit longer.
“So is this where the night ends?” he asked, his tone betraying a hint of disappointment.
You mirrored his expression, nodding solemnly. “It’s not goodbye,” you ventured, a soft smile touching your lips. “We will see each other again.”
Liam’s face brightened slightly. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek, his lips warm and lingering for a brief moment. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” he called cheerfully as he turned and walked away, his steps echoing softly down the hallway.
Smiling, you winnowed inside the House of Wind, the familiar warmth of the house wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. The house was quiet, as expected. Cassian and Nesta had gone away for the weekend to a secluded cabin to celebrate their first anniversary, leaving just you and Azriel behind. You assumed Azriel had gone out too since he hadn’t mentioned any plans, and fatigue from your date was beginning to weigh on you.
As you made your way to your room, the muffled sounds of grunting and punching reached your ears. Curious and concerned, you realized that Azriel was on the rooftop training.
Deciding to check on him, you headed towards the roof. The cool, crisp night air hit your face as you stepped into the open training ring. The sight before you was striking: Azriel stood in the centre of the ring, his hands clenched into fists, his focus fixed intently on the punching bag. The bag swung with each of his forceful strikes, and his movements were charged with a pent-up intensity that made the air around him almost crackle.
You took a moment to admire Azriel, appreciating his physicality—the way his muscles flexed with each punch, the fluidity of his movements, the raw strength he exuded. Though nothing romantic had ever happened between the two of you, you couldn’t deny that Azriel was strikingly handsome. His sharp, defined features, and dark hair contrasting with his light eyes, paired with his impressive physique, made him undeniably captivating.
“Hey there,” he greeted, his voice carrying a smirk as he glanced over at you.
You felt a flush of warmth spread across your cheeks but tried to maintain a casual demeanour. Leaning against the doorframe, you crossed your arms over your chest. “So what did the poor punching bag do to you? You’re hitting it like it stole your bride.”
Azriel chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. He hung his head slightly, shaking off the tension, and moved to the bench at the corner of the training area. He sank onto the bench, grabbing his water bottle with a sigh of relief. You followed and took a seat next to him.
“How’d the date go?” he asked, his voice a mix of casual curiosity and concern.
You sighed, staring at the starry night sky of Velaris. “It was okay,” you admitted, your voice carrying a note of resignation.
“Uh oh,” Azriel said, a teasing edge creeping into his tone. “Did he do something shitty? Did he say ‘pacifically’ instead of ‘specifically’?” he teased.
You laughed, shaking your head. “No, no, he was actually really nice. I just didn’t feel like he was right for me,” you said. “You know?”
“Yeah,” he murmured, nodding in understanding.
The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, gazing at the vast, twinkling expanse above. Your gaze eventually drifted to Azriel’s hands, and you noticed the bloodied and bruised knuckles, evidence of his intense training session.
“You’re bleeding,” you said, your voice gentle but laced with concern as you reached for his hand to inspect it up close. The sight of his battered knuckles tugged at your heart.
Azriel dismissed your concern with a casual wave. “It’s nothing. Just been at it for a while,” he said nonchalantly.
You frowned, disapproval evident in your eyes. Turning to his shadows, which had been hovering around you both, you whispered, “Can you bring me a first aid kit?” The shadows bobbed up and down as if nodding in agreement before darting out of the room.
Azriel looked at you and his shadows with surprise. “Since when do they listen to you?” he asked, his astonishment clear.
“They always have,” you replied with a shrug. “You didn’t know?”
He shook his head, clearly amazed.
The shadows soon returned, depositing a rectangular box in your lap. You opened it, retrieved the alcohol and cotton pads, and set the kit aside. Gently, you resumed tending to Azriel’s wounds, dabbing the alcohol-soaked cotton on his knuckles, slowly and carefully cleaning away the blood. As you worked, Azriel’s eyes remained fixed on your face—observing your concentration, the kindness in your eyes, and the tenderness of your touch.
“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
You looked up, offering him a soft smile. “It’s no problem,” you replied.
A comfortable silence settled between you, the only sound the rustling of the night wind and the occasional hum of the city below. You continued to work on his hands, your fingers brushing against his skin with a soothing touch, while Azriel turned his gaze back to the sky.
After a few moments, he spoke again, his voice reflective. “Do you remember 20 years ago when we were standing right over there?” He gestured toward the railing. “And we made that promise to each other—that if we were both single in 20 years, we’d marry each other?” His smile was wistful, a touch of nostalgia in his eyes.
You turned to look at the spot he indicated, your smile mirroring his. “Yeah,” you whispered. “Crazy how fast time flies.”
You finished cleaning his hands but didn’t let go. Instead, you held his hand gently between your own, your fingers tracing the lines of his scars with a delicate touch.
“So are you still down for it?” Azriel asked, his eyes softened by an earnest hope.
You were taken aback by the question but managed a soft smile. “Yeah, I am.”
Azriel sighed in relief, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “Because, truth be told, Y/n, I’ve been yours since the day we made that promise,” he confessed, his gaze unwavering as he looked deeply into your eyes.
Your breath caught in your throat, and you stared at him, stunned. “What?” you whispered, barely able to comprehend his words.
“It’s true,” he continued quietly. “I’ve avoided every long-term relationship with the hope that one day, we’d end up together, Y/n.”
For a moment, you were at a loss for words, your mind reeling. Then, with a shaky breath, you replied, “Well, if only you had said that 20 years ago, we could have been celebrating our 20th anniversary today.”
Azriel chuckled softly, his head hanging in a sheepish gesture. “Forgive me, my dear. I’m not the best at expressing my feelings.”
“No, you are not,” you agreed with a light laugh. “But I’d be happy to teach you,” you said softly, your voice filled with warmth.
“And there is no one else I’d rather learn from,” Azriel whispered before leaning in and capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and fervent, a culmination of all the years of unspoken feelings and promises.
Masterlist
