Prompt: Would love request a fic that incorporates the language of flowers! Like Elain and Az use flowers or bouquets to communicate while secretly being together in order to not get caught 😏
Like I imagine Az giving Elain a bouquet of lily of the valley as an apology after he does something stupid, or a miscommunication where Az meant to gift her carnations for luck but accidentally gave two-toned ones that mean “I cannot be with you”.
Hi Anon!! Thank you so much for giving me an excuse to look at flowers ☺️. I hope you enjoy this fic 💖
Major shoutout to my friend @thefangirlofhp for her amazing input 💖💖
Word Count: 3k.
Warnings: Language
It started with a rose.
Elain had been having a cup of tea one restless night where nothing felt right. She laid there tossing and turning, willing herself to fall asleep, but everytime she closed her eyes she was assaulted by ugly thoughts creeping into her dreams. She tried the breathing techniques she had learned after almost drowning in the cauldron, but even those did nothing to quiet her mind.
As soon as she sat down she became aware of a shadowy figure in the corner of the kitchen.
“Azriel? You’re back?”
Elain watched as the shadow slowly transformed into a weary, worn, and dusty Azriel. His wings were more limp than she had ever seen them and she tried to ignore how handsome the scruff on his face made him, how rugged he looked, as she jumped up from her seat and exclaimed, “I’ll get you some tea. The water is still warm. Please, sit down.”
She motioned towards the table as she busied herself by preparing the tea for him. She had his favorite tea memorized: No cream, three sugars. She was overcome by the bone-melting, all-consuming feel of nostalgia. One of the first times she had ever felt true peace as a fae was when Azriel had reached out to her; Elain longed for the days where they could sit in the iron chairs of the garden, both of them bathing in the sunlight, and simply enjoy each other's company while sipping tea. Azriel would sun his wings, and Elain would make sure that he was eating the snacks she prepared for him. Occasionally she would be working in the garden and Azriel would come by, tea fully prepared, and ask her if she wanted to join him.
She never said no.
If she tried hard enough, then she could still feel the way her heart would stop and start at the sight of him in broad daylight, carrying a tray while his shadows were nowhere in sight.
As she stirred the sugar into the amber liquid, Elain ignored the last time they were together this late at night.
“Thank you.” Azriel said as Elain placed the steaming cup in front of him.
“You’re welcome,” Elain muttered as she sat down next to him. “How was your mission?”
“Long,” Azriel said, closing his eyes as he took a slow sip of his tea. The gutteral sound he made as the liquid reached his tongue caused Elain to blush — there were only so many reasons why a male would be making those noises, and apparently hot tea after a mission was one of them. Elain bit her lip and found herself wondering when else he would make those sounds. “And muddy. No one ever remembers the mud when they talk about the Autumn Court. They blather on about the leaves for days, but the mud,” A small pop ricocheted through the kitchen as he cracked his neck, and his wings stretched and fluttered before sinking into relaxation. Elain’s eyes devoured every movement. “It’s good to be home.”
“I missed you,” Elain said before she could stop herself. “It’s not the same without you here,” Azriel’s eyes opened and landed on her face. “And I know it was a simple reconnaissance mission, but I was still worried.”
She took a sip of her tea to calm herself, but she knew he was aware of the way her hands were shaking.
“I got you something.” Azriel said, still sprawled in his chair and Elain secretly wondered what would happen if she crawled into his lap. He sat up a little straighter, gathered his shadows around, and then slowly pulled out a single red rose and handed it to her. All of the thorns on the stem had been removed, and Elain was in awe of how effervescent the red petals were in nothing but the dim faelight.
“It’s beautiful,” She said softly and took a deep breath, letting the perfume of the flower wash over her senses. “Thank you so much,” Her eyes met his bashfully. “And thank you for thinking of me.”
“I’m always thinking of you,” Azriel admitted in a low, gruff voice, and for a moment Elain’s brain froze. “It’s thought–'' He cleared his throat. “It’s thought that flowers have a language all their own,” He leaned closer to her, placing one bent arm on the table and bringing the other to the flower. He hesitated for a moment before placing his hand on top of hers, and Elain thought she would combust at the contact. “Roses, for example, are a declaration of… love.”
His voice was thick and warm and full like honey.
It became hard to breathe and Elain found herself gasping for air.
Her hand tightened around the stem of the rose, and she stared at his beautiful hand on hers before lifting her gaze up to his burning eyes.
She leaned closer to him, wet her dry lips, and asked, “Do you remember the bouquet I gifted you of the camellias?” Azriel nodded his head. Somehow they had drifted close enough that their noses touched at the slightest move. “They have a meaning too,” She swallowed as she recalled the memory. Elain had been walking down the streets of Velaris one lazy afternoon, passing by her favorite florist when she saw blooming pink, red, and white camellias — she had always thought them exquisite, like a cross between peonies and roses — and had the overwhelming urge to buy them for Azriel. She was so nervous when she handed them to him, her palms were sweaty and she could barely meet his eyes because she thought that he was going to find her out. “The pink camellias mean ‘I long for you’, and the white are ‘you’re adorable’,” Azriel let out a scoff at that one, but he was. The fearsome shadowsinger and spymaster was nothing short of adorable when he held his nephew and entertained Nyx with his shadows. Elain could feel the echo of her heart pounding in her entire body, her blood was pulsating in her veins, and little stars were forming in the corner of her eyes. “The red,” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “The red camellias mean ‘you’re a flame in my heart’.”
Azriel rested his forehead against hers, and Elain could feel his breath dance across her face. Somehow her eyes had fallen shut, and they stayed closed to savor the feel of his fingers trailing gently over jaw, and almost fell apart at the contact. The hand that laid atop of hers was scorching and anchored her to the fact that this was real, that they were touching, that she had in fact said what she couldn’t when she handed the bouquet to him a month ago.
It wasn’t until something wet splashed against her cheek that she opened her eyes and saw two tears streaming down Azriel’s face. Elain raised her free hand and gently wiped the tears away, but her hand lingered against his jaw and slowly brought his lips to hers.
Elain felt herself sink into the kiss and she felt like how clouds must feel drifting along on a sunny day — light and airy and surrounded in the soft warmth of the sun. That was what Azriel felt like, the sun. The male that had spent his entire childhood in shadows had somehow become the sun.
***
“Do you really have to go?” Elain asked, stepping onto her balcony.
Azriel stood at the far corner of the balcony, the silvery moonlight illuminated his wings while shadows swirled his dark frame. The shadows were his only tell. His face was perfectly impassive, in fact a pleasant smile graced his lips, but the shadows only appeared when he was uneasy.
She wrapped her robe tighter around her as the wind tangled her hair. It felt like she had somehow stumbled into the Winter Court, she tried to suppress her shivers, but Azriel still saw them anyway and pulled her into his arms. Her entire body relaxed as his warmth wrapped around her and seeped into her bones.
“Yes,” Azriel said into her ear, his hands rubbing circles onto her back. Elain resisted for all of one second before melting into his embrace. “I shouldn’t be gone for more than two weeks.”
He slowly pivoted them in a circle so that he was blocking the wind with his body while one of his hands came up to lay against the back of her head, cradling her into his chest.
“That’s two week too long,” Elain grumbled, burrowing deeper into his embrace, she didn’t care about the creases that would appear on her face from his armor, and she didn’t care about the fact that she’d have to bathe yet again to get his scent off of her. All she cared about was getting as close as she possibly could to him. “Why can’t we just go someplace, just the two of us, and have two weeks to ourselves. Away from all this nonsense. You can have your shadows investigate the human lands while we spend all day in bed.”
Azriel groaned deeply into her ear and Elain felt more shivers course through her body, ones that brought warmth and pleasure.
“As tempting as that sounds,” Azriel said, his lips brushing against her ear. “I’m afraid this is actually important. If my reports are accurate, then Koschei is one the move, or at least his pawns are on the move.”
“I don’t like you being in danger.” Elain whispered as if she was afraid of jinxing him. His arms tightened around her. Sniffling, she pulled back slightly, “I have something for you,” She felt the weight of his eyes on her as she pulled out a brilliant purple sprig of phlox from the pocket of her robe. “It means —”
He raised one hand, tenderly cutting her off.
Azriel allowed her to place the flower in the palm of his hand. Last time Elain had gifted him a flower that he grabbed, Azriel had accidentally crushed it and watched in horror as the delicate petals flew away with the wind.
“Let me try,” His hazel eyes stared at the bundle in his hand. A crease appeared between his brows, and Elain couldn’t help but be endeared at his effort. “Pansies?”
She gently shook her head and said, “Phlox. It’s not nearly as common as most flowers, and it took me forever to track it down.”
His eyes narrowed at her slightly, but the smile that tugged at his lips gave him away. His facade always crumbled when she was around. Ever since they had finally admitted to each other how they felt, Azriel allowed her to see every emotion.
“That seems like a trick.” Azriel teased, and Elain felt herself smiling at him.
“Maybe you’ll finally get around to studying that book.”
“I’ve read the entire thing, more than once. It’s not my fault it was illustrated by a two year old.”
Elain couldn’t stop the laughter that ballooned in her throat.
Flowers had become their way of sending messages to each other. Everyday Elain would wake up to a new flower on her vanity: Roses when Azriel was going to spend the night, lilies appeared when Azriel couldn't get away from work, daisies when he was going to meet her in the garden, and sometimes he would send her flowers with little messages asking what they were and what they meant. Eventually, Elain had gotten him a book that depicted various flowers and their meanings, and slowly they were understanding the language of flowers together.
“It’s not that bad,” Elain said, her laughter slowly fading. “Do you remember what this one represents?”
They looked at each other for a moment and the smallest of smiles graced Azriel’s lips, and though it was small it was enough to cause her heart to tumble in her chest.
“Our souls are united.” Azriel replied, his head dipping towards hers.
“Good job.” Elain said breathlessly. Her lips brushed against his words.
Azriel made a small sound of acknowledgement before their lips met.
***
Elain stared at the flower sitting at her vanity.
A yellow carnation.
Disappointment. Rejection.
The shadow had appeared in front of her this morning and only stuck around long enough to place the flower in front of her while she was brushing her hair. She didn’t even get to say thank you before the shadow disappeared.
Her smile froze on her face as she realized what the flower was.
Rejection
Icicles of dread started poking at her heart and all day she was fighting off the dread that scraped along her spine. She tried to battle her thoughts, her worries, and her anxieties that were screaming at her. Azriel loved her. He’s told her that. He told her that if it wasn’t for Rhysand, then they wouldn’t have to hide… but nothing has changed.
Five months and not a single thing had changed.
Except maybe Azriel’s mind.
His simple mission of two weeks turned into four, and only twice did Azriel send her flowers. The first, three days into his mission, was a tulip — a declaration of love — and the second was the carnation that sat on her vanity, mocking her.
She had told herself that it was just his work keeping him away, but Rhysand had been in almost constant contact with him, and every time he talked of the mission it was with ease. Rhys didn’t mince his words or mind his tongue, and it seemed as if every night at dinner he was updating them about Azriel’s progress and the information he’s obtained.
Logically, Elain knew that Azriel had other more important priorities that didn’t include finding flowers for her. She knew it was a pain to find the exact right flower with the exact right meaning, but this wasn’t the first time that Azriel had been away on a mission while they were together — it was the longest — and every other time he had managed to send her flowers with no issue. I’m longing for you. I’m thinking of you.
Maybe there was another reason Azriel didn’t bother with the flowers.
Maybe he had met someone else.
A female that wasn’t mated and was free to love him. A female that he didn’t have to hide in the shadows with. A female he could talk with opening, one that didn’t make him study books about flowers in order to communicate. A female that didn’t force her interests on him.
And then another nagging thought turned her blood into icy water.
Maybe he did meet someone else, and maybe Azriel had finally met his mate.
A single tear trailed down her cheek as she fingered the waxy, yellow petals.
***
“You’ve been avoiding me all night,” Azriel said, his voice dark and smooth. His footsteps were silent, but Elain knew his long legs were crossing the short distance between them. “Did I do something wrong?”
Her back was still turned towards him, facing the window that overlooked the glittering lights of Velaris. It took everything in Elain not to stare at him the entire night. She tried not to examine and analyze his every word and gesture.
The space between them was nothing more than a couple inches, but it felt like a massive canyon.
She could feel his hesitation, but he still reached a hand to grasp hers.
“Did I?” Elain whispered, trying not to imagine his hands on the skin of another female — running through her hair, caressing her lips, slipping between her-
“Of course not,” Azriel responded in a light voice, one that spoke of a weight lifted off of him. She didn’t protest and he pulled her into his side. “Tell me what’s on your mind, please.”
Her brown eyes never moved from the twinkling lights through the glass.
“The flower you sent a week ago. The yellow —”
“Fuck,” Azriel said, and Elain felt his his body tensed against her. “I knew I shouldn’t have—”
“Who is she?” Elain asked, cutting him off and breaking out of his embrace. “I don’t blame you, but please tell me how long it’s been going on. Is she…” The words were bitter on her tongue. “Is she your mate?”
The horrible irony wasn’t lost on her. She had spent days wondering if Azriel had found his mate while her own unwanted bond had been a dark cloud over their relationship.
Elain watched his expression slackened into nothing but pure surprise. His jaw had dropped and he started blinking furiously. She had never seen him look so gobsmacked before.
“My what?” Azriel asked, his voice high and squeaky.
“Your mate,” Elain said, her own eyes blinking to hold off the tears that were stinging her eyes. “I thought maybe you finally found someone and that’s why you rejected me—”
“Rejected you? I never —” Somehow his voice was squeakier than before.
“You sent me a yellow carnation and —”
“No I didn’t,” Azriel said, rushing to grasp her hands. “I sent you a yellow peony.”
The desperation in his voice caused her to pause.
“Azriel, you sent me a yellow carnation.”
Elain could see the realization set in as a light went off behind his eyes, and slowly his eyes widened in horror. “I didn’t mean — surely you didn’t think — fuck,” Azriel’s eyes screwed shut. “I thought I sent a yellow peony.”
A yellow peony. Azriel thought he sent a yellow peony and that meant,
“Happy marriage,” Elain said, awe dripping from her voice as relief spread through her body. “You sent me a flower that means happy marriage.”
Her hands shook, but his were there to steady them.
“I realize it’s a little early,” Azriel admitted, his thumbs tracing the pale blue veins in her hands. “But I wanted to be honest with how I felt, and I just, I wanted you to know that one day I could see us…” His voice trailed off as he took in Elain’s watery smile. “You thought I was with someone else?”
“I thought that maybe,” Elain said, pausing to swallow the ball of emotions lodged in her throat. “Maybe you found someone that wasn’t so complicated. Maybe you found your mate.”
“Elain,” Azriel said. Her heart stuttered at her name on his lips. “There is no one that I would rather be with, no matter how complicated it gets. I love you. And I’ve already found my mate,” His hand squeezed hers. “One that I got to choose for myself.”
—
Tagging: @thefangirlofhp @tswaney17 @elvery @stars-falling @sakurakittypeach @justheretoreadsposts