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elriel
Elriel. Drawing to order.
Individual drawing @to.fantasy.and.beyond
Aelin with some hawk lol
Finished this absolute beast of a novel 2 days ago and haven't had a moment of peace since. 4/5 stars! An amazing conclusion to such a rich, vibrant world. My primary issue with the last two books was that there wasn't enough character development- well this book brought a LOT of development and plot twists that made it a delight to read. Might have to revise my view on Sarah J. Maas... Add me on goodreads if you want to see what I'm reading/more in-depth reviews ❤️🔥 goodreads.com/adeitystudies #booktok #book #books #acotar #acomaf #acowar #sarajmaas #feyre #feyrearcheron #nestaarcheron #elainarcheron #rhys #rhysand #tamlin #lucienvanserra #cassian #azriel #bookstagram #booktokbooks https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn3UJZBuoIe/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
“I came to claim the one I love.”
Under the Mountain
Aesthetic.
His Return
The small cottage came into view. Azriel slowed down, his feet touching the cobblestone path without a sound. The balmy summer air was a welcome compared to the near-constant freeze of the Winter Court, even if it made him soak his leathers through with sweat. He had built the cottage for Elain as a gift when they got married; built it in a field of wildflowers outside of Velaris. He remembered her smile as he flew her there and surprised her with it.
It has been three weeks since he stepped into his own house, the smell of peonies and sunshine wafted around him- his wife’s scent. Three weeks without his wife. He was sorely tempted to wake her up and makeup for all of that lost time. He let her sleep, she needed it and he needed to hone the whirl-wind of thoughts flying through him.
The last three weeks were spent interrogating spies caught trying to cross the border between the Night and Winter Courts. Spies from the Continent. They were apprehended in Winter, but Kallias allowed Rhys the courtesy of his own interrogation… as long as it was in Winter. Rhys stayed a week, using his daemati gifts to quicken the process. After the week, Rhys left him with Lucien to try to open up the last two spies who had been shields. Fae gifted with protection against daemati.
Walking to the dining room, he noticed a light yellow rug with a floral print. Bright and cheery against the dark wood floors. How very Elain, he thought. In fact, he started noticing all of the details added since he left. The wedding portrait that Feyre had painted of them, rested on the mantle. Vases of flowers and other feminime touches graced the house. It was perfect. It reminded him of Elain, who made anywhere she was- home to him.
They've only been in the cottage for six weeks- married that long too. He hated himself for being gone for half of their marriage, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make to keep her safe.
Azriel poured himself a drink at the small copper bar cart near the kitchen, using a glass - not bothering with a shot glass. Ugly. That’s what those last weeks were. As a favor to his Highlord, Azriel begrudgingly worked with Lucien. When Elain had chosen the shadowsinger over her mate, the townhouse nearly collapsed due to the fight that took place. Lucien was still silently seething over the matter while they worked. Azriel’s shadows picking up the wrath thumping underneath the fox’s golden skin.
As much as Azriel hated to admit it, he was angry too. Angry at Vanserra. Angry at whatever force decided to tie Elain and Lucien’s souls together for eternity.
Pulling out a chair to face the three paned window, he took a seat at the end of the mahogany dining table. A gift from Cas, his reasoning being that the happy couple needed a big enough for both their families. Family. That’s what he and Elain wove themselves together to become.
Staring at the starry night sky, whiskey burned down his throat as he his mind circled back to that comment Lucien made to him when he found out Elain wouldn’t be accompanying them to Winter. Accused him of cloistering Elain, saying that the cottage Azriel had built her was nothing more than a gilded cage meant to keep her bound to him.
He wanted to bring Elain with him. Wanted to take her gliding over the iced over ponds hidden in the Winter Court’s forests, to show her the snow-blooming flowers that flourished in the cold… He would take her one day. Where he could give her all of his attention, she deserved it.
In truth, Azriel didn’t want Elain to see this part of him. He couldn't fathom sharing a bed with her mere hours after he tortured fae barely out of boyhood. Resting his elbows on his knees, he cradled his face in his hands, the scars and calluses scraping against the light stubble that began to form on his jaw. He thought about gentle Elain watching her husband break trained warriors apart, watching someone usually so caring and loving to her- turn to violence and bloodshed. She knew what he did, what was required of him to keep the Night Court safe. He would not allow her to see that part of him. Not anytime soon.
“Az, is that you?” a gentle voice behind him flowed like water. He turned around to see Elain standing at the stop of the staircase. A cream shaw was wrapped around her shoulders, over the pale pink nightgown edged with cream lace - another wedding present from Feyre. He had blushed when Elain opened up the trunk full of scraps of lace and satin and then rolled his eyes at the note that Feyre had left him:
“A gift for the groom. - your sister in-law”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Didn’t mean to, but he was elated to see her. Graceful as a doe, she glided down the stairs- towards him.
“It’s okay. I have trouble sleeping without you anyways.” A smile touched her lips as she talked. His heart ached at the thought that she had problems sleeping. The first night they shared a bed, she had told him that it was the first time she slept without nightmares. Did she not feel safe without him here? He had placed wards around the house before he left and even told her to sleepover at Rhy and Feyre’s if she was scared. Azriel would ask her about it tomorrow.
Placing his hands on her hips. He pulled her towards him, so that she was standing in between his legs. Resting his head between her breasts and wrapping his arms around her slim waist, he breathed her in.
“I missed you.” He whispered to her. So very, very much, he thought. Elain threaded her fingers in his midnight hair and began playing with it. Twirling his locks around her thin, small fingers.
“I’m so glad you're safe.” she said. “That is quite a nightcap you’ve made yourself.” She let out a chuckle at the large glass of whiskey sitting on the table. “I’ll make you some tea to wash it down.”
“It’s fine, you don’t have to.” he responded, but she already untangled herself from him and was walking towards the kitchen. Azriel was content to just watch her. Placing the copper kettle on the stove, she turned and gave him the sweetest smile as she pulled out two mint mugs from the cabinet. She stirred extra honey into his tea, making a remark about how she heard it helps prevent hangovers.
She placed both mugs on the table and was about to sit down, until he pulled her onto his lap- so that she was straddling him. Elain let out a giggle as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
“I like what you’ve done with the place.” he whispered into ear, pressing a kiss right below it, as he eyed the velvet blue curtains enclosing the window.
“Cassian helped me hang them up. He said the blue would go with your siphons.” She ran her fingers over the one in the center of his chest, before picking up his mug of tea and bringing it to his lips. “Drink.” He did what she said.
“Delicious, from your garden?” he inquired as he took the mug from her small hands and held it to her lips. He tilted it up as she took a sip.
“Yes, I starting growing herbs that help with sore muscles and fatigue… for you.” she said shyly, looking down. Azriel put the mug back on the table and then tilted Elain’s chin up with his hand.
“Thank you.” he said as he stared into her chocolate eyes. Thank you for everything, for taking care of me, for loving me, he thought, hoping that his eyes conveyed what he felt.
‘She is thinking you’re welcome.’ a wisp of a shadow whispered in his ear. One of the reasons he loved Elain was that she didn’t push him to talk. The two of them seemed to exude their thoughts and feelings to each other without words.
Azriel released her chin, running his hands over the silky material of the nightgown, he pulled her flush to his chest- into a passionate kiss. The shaw around her shoulders, fell to the floor forgotten. Her soft, doll lips parted allowing their tongues to intertwine along with their souls. Her hands stroking his chest, his shoulders, his wings. Desire flooded his loins.
He moved his hands over the curve of her hips, down to her knees. Then he moved them back up over her creamy thighs, up to the hem of her nightgown which was pushed up from straddling his lap. Lips parting, she began to pepper kisses along his jaw and neck.
“Arms up.”
Elain obeyed. Lifting her arms up, as he pulled the nightgown over her head and let it drop to the floor. Unconcerned of where it landed. She wouldn't be needing it for the rest of the night.
The primal, fae part of him hummed with pleasure at the bare skin before him. The moon beams streaking through the glass windows behind her, making her pale skin glow like back-lit alabaster. Clad only in a pair of pink lace panties, she whispered his name. Beautiful, Beautiful, Beautiful, the word echoed in his head as his eyes roamed over his wife’s body- exposed only for him.
Lips meeting once again, Azriel cupped her breasts, his thumbs moving in circles over her nipples- peaking them. She moaned into his mouth as her hips began to move in a soft rhythm against his own. Reminding his body that they spent three weeks without touching each other. Those days apart had left him ravenous.
He trailed one finger down the valley of her breasts, the center of her naval- until he got to the waistband of that scrap of lace she wore. Perhaps she expected his return tonight with those seer powers of hers, he thought, that would explain the… ensemble.
A purely male smirk appeared on his face, as he realized that she was soaked through. Before he could insert a finger into that wet heat of hers, she crawled off his lap to pull off her underwear. The shadowsinger sat back and enjoyed the sight. Stepping out of them, she kneeled before him. Kneeled before death incarnate.
Her nimble fingers began pulling at the laces of his leather pants. A groan escaped his lips, as his aching length sprang into her awaiting hand. He nearly lost his mind when she kissed the tip. Unable to wait any longer, Azriel hauled her up onto his lap and buried himself deep inside her in one smooth stroke.
All five hundred of those years he had spent in heartbreak and trapped in lust, had been worth it. He would have waited an eternity to wait for her. His one true love.
Azriel thrust up into her, still clad in his fighting leathers, while she writhed atop him naked. Her head dropped to the nook of his shoulder, her sweet little moans and gasps echoing in his ear.
Inside her, he forgot his sins. Forget the dark shadows of his past that leeched on his very existence- she burned them away. Outshining every star in the sky.
Azriel would give her everything.
Bringing his hand to that bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs, she fell off that shimmering edge into a pool of starlight. And as she gasped his name as she found her release, he stood up- wrapping her thin legs around his waist.
When the tremor in her stilled, he pulled himself out of her and sat her at the edge of that giant table. Pushing her shoulders so that she laid flat on her back, knees bent, legs spread and feet perched at the end of the table. Exactly where he wanted her.
“Az?”
“Soon, love.” pressing a chaste kiss to her mouth to quiet her.
Before he could take what he needed, he began unstrapping the armor from his shoulders and forearms and unbuckled the leather tunic. And as he threw the tunic to the ground, he leaned over her, guiding himself into her. His pants slung low over his chiseled hips.
Enjoying the feeling of her small bare breasts crushed against his chestt, he set a punishing pace that would take them both over the edge. Elain’s small hands traced over his back, feeling the muscles flex and tighten as he thrust into her. Azriel grabbed her wrists, twinning their fingers together as he pinned her hands by her head.
No language could describe how good it felt to share this intimacy with her. But gods, he tried. Whispering in her ear about how much she pleased him, how amazing she felt wrapped around him. A blush spread from her dimpled cheeks to those perfect tits of hers.
And as her fingers tightened around his own, release found her again that night. At the sight of his wife moaning his name below him, he found his. His siphons flaring as he spilled himself into her.
Elain wrapped her legs around him, holding him close as pleasure shot up his spine. Foreheads pressed together, noses touching, he pressed an open mouth kiss to her swollen lips.
“I love you.” she said. “So very much.”
Azriel hoped that he was enough to keep her safe, strong enough to make sure they had nights like this again and again.
Circe, process
“Once upon a time, in a land long since burned to ash, there lived a young princess who loved her kingdom…” -Kingdom of Ash
