The new beginning
Pairing: Azriel x Female Reader (It's more OC daughter)
Summary: The brightest light is sometimes born from the darkest corner of the soul.
Warning: Angst, nostalgia, fluff. I think that’s all—let me know if there's anything else I should add.
Word Count: 2,198
Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this story about our boys. As always, feel free to share your thoughts, suggestions—everything is welcome as long as it's respectful and meant to help.
English is not my first language, so I apologize for any spelling or grammatical mistakes.
This is an original story, written by me. Please do not copy or plagiarize my work.
I truly appreciate every comment, reblog, and like I receive.
Happy reading!
Master list
The moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating the bed where Azriel sat. Between his scarred fingers, he held a shining ring with a blue gemstone, surrounded by tiny stones like stars—a symbol of the one he once called his wife. Nights like this were the ones that hurt the most. There were days when he felt he didn’t deserve to live, nights when he longed desperately for the warmth of her body beside his.
He held the beautiful ring up to his eyes; the tiny sparkles of the gem reminded him of the light in her eyes when she was happy, when he made her laugh. They were only fleeting glimmers he wished had lasted forever.
But that would never happen again. There was no longer a "forever" together—not after he watched the life leave his beloved’s body.
“Listen to me…” Azriel whispered, his voice breaking. “Listen to me and come back, come home. Come back to me,” he begged as he held her body, rocking back and forth.
The pain tearing through his heart was unlike anything he had ever felt in his long life. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and in a moment, his beloved’s face was bathed in those warm drops.
Her face, so serene… Nothing disturbed her in that sweet slumber. And all Azriel could feel was each piece of his heart being ripped from his chest, how his soul slowly stopped singing.
“Please,” he begged once more. “Please, come back to me.”
Please. Please. Please.
There was no response. Her heart had stopped beating. Her cold body was all Azriel could feel—not warmth… only cold.
He opened the top drawer of the nightstand. In his free hand, he held the small velvet box that protected the one-of-a-kind piece he had commissioned just for her. He crawled beneath the sheets, pain his only companion. His shadows lingered throughout the room, drifting through Y/N’s belongings like it was the only routine they knew since she had gone.
Azriel sighed and closed his eyes. All he could see was her—all the little things she did that reminded him why he had fallen in love with his wife, his mate, his best friend, the love of his life, and the mother of his daughter. She would never come back.
The rays of the sun announced a new day. The sound of the door opening made him roll to the other side; he clung to the sheets like a small child. He wanted to stay in bed, but the voice of the person who interrupted his sleep broke the silence.
“I know you're awake,” she whispered, her voice full of resignation. “Today’s the big day. Nyx is being crowned and you're not ready,” the woman continued. She stepped further into the room and yanked the sheets away, just like Azriel used to do when she was little.
“Nira, leave me alone,” his voice, rough and hoarse from sleep, made his daughter laugh.
“I used to say the same thing when I was eight. Consider it my revenge.”
She couldn’t help but remember those times with her father. Everything looked so different back then. Her hero’s sense of humor had faded as she grew older. Every time her face reflected her mother’s… with the only exception being her eyes—hazel, just like her father's.
“Dad, come on. Rhys is going to come, and you don’t want him dragging you out of bed,” she continued, trying to convince him.
Azriel opened his eyes and felt his heart stop for a second. His daughter’s silhouette, bathed in sunlight, glowed like gold—like the most precious treasure he had: the constant reminder that, at the end of the day, someone was waiting for him to tell them about their day. But his little girl wouldn’t be waiting for him anymore.
“Just ten minutes and I’ll be downstairs,” Azriel murmured, unable to take his eyes off his daughter. His little whirlwind. Just a few years ago she had cried in his arms with chubby cheeks, and he hadn’t known how to walk that road. And now, she was a grown woman, taking care of her aging father.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” she said with a smile before leaving the room.
The spymaster got out of bed and walked straight to the shelf where he kept a small, simple black box. Just like him. He gently placed it into the pocket of his tunic.
Azriel looked at his reflection. Despite all the centuries he had lived, he still wasn’t used to wearing fancy clothes. The black suit with subtle golden embroidery was perfect for the occasion. He walked down the hallway, step by step, searching for where his daughter might be. Her presence was as familiar to him as the beat of his own heart. When he reached her side, he took the small box from his coat. Simple, unadorned. But the weight inside was immense.
“I want to give you this,” he said, holding it out.
She looked at him, puzzled, but took the box. She opened it carefully… and her breath caught.
A pendant. A stone of pure starlight, captured in a teardrop of carved crystal with impossible delicacy. The chain was dark, the color of the sky before a storm, and etched with details so subtle only someone like her would notice: lines of ancient runes. For protection.
“What is this?” she whispered.
“A part of me,” Azriel replied softly. “It’s forged from a fragment of my shadows. The first ones I ever learned to control.”
She looked up at him, surprised.
“The first ones?”
“The most stubborn ones. The ones that stayed when all the others left,” he said with a half-smile, though his voice carried something deeper. “I thought they might be useful to you.”
She closed her fingers tightly around the pendant.
“Why now?”
Azriel turned his gaze toward the window.
“Because now you’re building your own world. Because you’re leaving, in a way. And I want you to carry something that reminds you… that you’ll always have a home. That you can always come back. That I’ll always be here, even when you no longer need me.”
His words hit her harder than she expected. The kind of things he didn’t say lightly. The kind of love that wasn’t shouted, but felt deep in the skin.
“Dad…” her voice trembled.
He looked at her then, straight in the eyes. And for a moment, she saw the warrior, the spymaster of the Night Court… unarmed.
“You’ve become more than I ever dreamed of. Strong. Brilliant. Free. And now, you’re giving your life to someone else…” He paused. “But you’ll never stop being my little girl.”
The tear that slipped down her cheek was silent, but she didn’t hide it.
“No matter how much I grow, I’ll always need you.”
Azriel nodded. Then, he gently lifted the pendant and tied it around her neck. His fingers, hardened by training and time, were surprisingly soft.
“If you ever feel lost… touch it. My shadows will come to you.”
She hugged him. With enough strength to make his wings flare slightly, wrapping around her. As if they wanted to shield her from the entire universe. And he… he held her like he could still keep her safe in his arms. Like the world was a little less dark when she was near.
Father and daughter made their way to the Grand Palace for the celebration. Arms linked, for the last time.
The ceremony had already ended.
The night had stretched on with wine, soft music, and congratulations. The newlyweds were downstairs, surrounded by friends and family, but in one of the highest towers of the Palace, two shadows shared a glass of wine in silence.
Azriel didn’t drink much, but that night… that night, he did.
“I never thought we’d end up here,” Rhysand said, breaking the silence. “You giving your daughter away… and me gaining a daughter-in-law.”
Azriel shot him a sidelong glance, but the small curve of his lips betrayed his calm. The day he had to entrust his daughter to another man felt so distant now. That night when the light of his life was born was a memory he cherished more with each passing year, and now, the possibility of becoming a grandfather loomed closer.
“I never thought your son would survive his first training with Cassian.”
Rhys chuckled quietly, sipping from his glass. “He almost didn’t. But then he started flying before he turned two, and his mother didn’t let anyone take him away for weeks.”
“I remember,” Azriel said, turning the glass in his hands. “I remember when she spelled the nursery door so Cassian couldn’t sneak in and drag him off to train.”
Rhysand laughed again, but then fell silent. His expression grew more serious as he looked at his brother—not with the gaze of the High Lord, but just as Rhys. Simply Rhys.
“You know he’ll take care of her, right?”
Azriel took a second to answer. He’d known Nyx since he was a child; he had been just his nephew… until he wasn’t. Not once those blue eyes had landed on his little girl. From the moment they were old enough to admit their love.
“I know,” his rough voice betrayed him to Rhys. He didn’t know how long he could live in a house without the sound of Nira’s voice, her morning songs, and her nighttime jokes.
Rhys set his glass on the stone railing. “Nyx… he’s not like me. He’s softer in some ways. More of a dreamer. But when it comes to her, to your daughter… Azriel, I swear by the stars-damned sky, there is nothing he wouldn’t do for her.”
Azriel knew that. Even when his brother’s son had “saved her life” from an evil frog in the pond, or the time Nira scraped her knee from running too fast. That very afternoon, Nyx’s eyes hadn’t lied: the care in his hands as he helped her up, the way he healed her himself and told her everything would be okay… Azriel had known then.
“I saw it in his eyes. Since they were children.”
“You knew since then?”
“No,” he looked straight at him. “But one afternoon, I watched them from the window. My shadows confirmed it the next day.”
Rhys watched him in silence. There were so many unspoken words between them. Centuries of battles, of wounds and loyalties. But this… this was different. Their children would shape the next generation of the Night Court’s reign.
“She has your strength, Az,” Rhysand said softly. “But also your silence. Your way of seeing the world without saying a word… and still saying everything.”
Azriel looked up at the stars. They knew how often he’d begged them to give him the strength to keep going.
“It wasn’t always easy to care for her. Sometimes… it felt like she was the only thing anchoring me to the world. That if she ever disappeared, I would too.”
Rhys lowered his gaze in silent understanding. That night when Velaris had mourned those lost to that strange illness. The night his brother lost his wife and mate, and Rhysand lost a friend. A member of his family. Azriel had shut down completely. Feyre had cared for Nira until the spymaster was ready again.
“Now it’s time to let her fly.”
Azriel closed his eyes for a moment.
“I did, long ago. I was just pretending she was still by my side.”
Rhysand smiled—the smile of a father who understood how hard it was to let a child walk their own path, build their own life, follow their own destiny. And even though he was entrusting his legacy to his son, he knew it couldn’t compare to letting go of a daughter.
“You have the right to feel this, brother. But this isn’t a loss. It’s a new beginning—for all of us.”
Azriel took a deep breath. Then, for the first time in a long while, he set his glass down on the stone wall… and allowed himself to smile.
“I just hope Nyx is ready for her.”
“No one is,” Rhysand laughed. “But he’ll learn. And if not… he’s got two giant-winged, short-tempered fathers to put him in his place.”
They both laughed, though it didn’t last long. Azriel, lost in his grief, turned to the window again. The full moon bathed the palace in its cold light, as if it too mourned the absence of its mate on this special night.
The sound of footsteps echoed in the room, and the shadow of another Ilyrian warrior appeared:
“Brothers, the party’s downstairs. I bet Leif is about to finish off the wine.”
Azriel and Rhysand followed the feared warrior down the stairs, arms thrown around each other’s shoulders like when they were young. Cassian mumbled nonsense, fueled by the alcohol in his system. Azriel could only grunt every time his brother leaned more heavily on him.
And under the starry sky, the shadows and the night shared a moment of peace. Of pride. Of farewell.
Because their children were the future.
And they, though marked by darkness… had brought light into the world.
*divider by @cafekitsune , thank you <33.
A/N: I'm back. Sorry to keep you waiting, or maybe not. I've been busy with my degree paperwork, so I haven't had time to write, but today I'm back with this little story, and I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think. Kisses, love you guys.
