@starfallweek 2025 March 23rd Prompt: It’s a Starfall mating ceremony, the dreamiest night of the year!
A/N: I originally wasn’t going to do this one, but I decided to try and it ended up grabbing my hand and running away with it! I hope you enjoy! Also, I need more platonic! Rhys fics in my life.
It was only the beginning of the week leading up to Starfall, and you were already exhausted. The entire world wanted a piece of you. You were stuck in meeting after meeting around Velaris for your duties, everyone wanting things handled immediately so they wouldn’t have to work the rest of the week. Never mind that you were having more and more things piled onto your plate by them, but such is the burden of the Inner Circle this time of year.
You were already stretched thin, wanting nothing more than to return home to Azriel, your mate, for some much needed cuddly comfort. You two hadn’t accepted the bond yet, but had every intention to. Starfall being so close to when things snapped for you both, you’d wanted it to be special. After everything the two of you had been through, both together and apart, romantically and not, you both thought you deserved the happily ever after treatment.
Your mistake had been telling Rhys that.
No sooner had you walked through the door of the townhouse, intent on dropping your stuff on the nearest surface and collapsing into the nearest soft thing, Rhysand poked his head out into the foyer.
His face lit up, star filled in its own right, and immediately pulled you into his arms, saying your name with childlike excitement. “Just the female I wanted to see.”
“Hi Rhys,” you said, unable to keep the exhaustion from your voice. Likely your mind as well, you hadn’t thought about your shields in a long time.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your and Azriel’s ceremony.”
A wave of tiredness rolled through you at the thought of yet another discussion. “Rhys,” you pleaded, “when I told you-“
Rhys was not paying attention, it did not even appear he had heard you. “I have so many ideas to run by you. You were right, you both deserve something special, and I want to help you make it perfect.”
He looked down at you with shiny eyes and you faltered for a minute. Curse your loving heart.
With a failing social battery, you tried the one card you had. Feyre would understand you, she always did. If you could get Feyre to rein him in… “Wouldn’t Feyre want to help as well?”
“The studio’s awfully busy this week I’m afraid. I know you know the feeling, and I do apologize for that, love. Think of this as my apology to my soon-to-be sister-in-law?” The last part came out like a question and your flimsy resolve broke.
You sighed, “okay, Rhys.”
He beamed, simultaneously lifting your spirits and raising your apprehension, before grabbing your shoulders and winnowing you two away.
Unbeknownst to you, Azriel had arrived upstairs moments before.
He’d sensed your sheer exhaustion and strangled acquiescence and had tried to get to you as soon as he could. You had been here, not too long ago if your scent was still this strong in the house. He’d almost believed you were still here, calling out your name until he picked up on Rhys’s as well.
A groan worked its way unbidden from his throat.
Of course. Rhysand had intercepted you before he could get here. The High Lord had told him how excited he was for the two of you. Azriel should have assumed something like this would happen. He’d likely been waiting for you to get home, eager to make preparations.
Azriel trudged downstairs, lightly agitated. His shadows flickered along his back, flared in response to his emotions. He picked up your discarded work bag and returned it to the place you always kept it in your room. As he held the strap, felt the weight of it, his heart sank. Tiredness radiated out from your side of the bond. He had half a mind to wrench you from his brother’s clutches and return you safely home.
But he knew you. Knew you wanted to make everyone else happy, even to your own detriment. It was something he simultaneously loved and hated about you. He knew the earful he’d receive if he pulled you out.
But oh, that little protective impulse.
Little. Who was he kidding?
When he saw you tonight he’d talk to you about that little habit of yours. Then hopefully, you’d finally let yourself get some sleep.
He sent a pulse of adoration over to you, pleased at the weak - but very much there - echo of it you sent back.
Just a little longer, he told himself, then no one will be seeing either of us for months. He didn’t just mean the frenzy, either. Both of you could more than use the time off relishing in the arms of the one you love.
A soothing pulse reached his chest and he realized he’d been gripping the strap of your bag with white knuckles. He must have projected his protectiveness through the bond to you. You were reminding him to relax.
He would. He just had to find a way for both of you to.
Having errands of his own to run, he did not return home again until much later. He made his way softly to the room you two had taken to sharing. He was the Spymaster, so he made no sound at all as he entered the room, expecting to find you asleep in bed.
Instead, you were at the desk with a candle burned down nearly to the bottom of the jar that contained it. Paperwork was strewn about as your head lay on some of them. Ink stained your fingers in little wisps, either smudged where your hands brushed it when it had been wet or simply there due to your frenzied writing style. Shadows of a sort.
You were knocked out though. He sighed, tilting his head. His shadows reached for you, more indicative of his longing for you than creatures of their own.
He wiped the ink off your fingers, careful not to disturb your much needed rest, before moving you to the bed. You didn’t wake as he pulled you to him, hugging you close like a teddy bear. He draped a wing over you and pressed a kiss to your forehead before joining you in the realms of sleep.
You were awoken by Rhys’s voice in your head. “Rise and shine! You and Feyre have a seamstress appointment!”
Had you really been that out of it that he could just barge into your brain and wake you up?
“Apparently, yes. She’s waiting for you downstairs. She didn’t want to bother you.”
Huh. Maybe someone could learn a thing or two from his mate.
His laughter reverberated in your mind. “Hurtful. She’s got the day off and so do you. Only ceremony planning today, and I mean it. Have fun!”
Thanks. Then you built your mental walls back up. Days off are great when you aren’t behind on work and aren’t forced into planning an elaborate mating ceremony, you thought privately. Anxiety itched around your mind.
You slowly realized your surroundings now that you were more awake. You were exactly where you wanted to be, in Azriel’s arms. But Feyre was waiting downstairs, waiting to help you find your dress. You couldn’t just leave her. Tired as you were, they truly did mean well. This was something you needed to do. Along with everything else you had on your to-do list.
So, you tried to pull yourself from Azriel’s hold. Predictably, he groaned and pulled you closer, wrapping his arms tighter around you. It was adorable, but you’d made up your mind to leave. He was not helping.
“Az, love, I’ve gotta go.”
He buried his head further into your neck. “No you don’t.”
“Yes I do,” you chuckled.
“Sort of. Feyre’s waiting for me downstairs.”
“Ceremony stuff?” his muffled voice said.
“You would really deny me the presence of my mate?”
You chuckled, “we aren’t mated yet, Az.”
Your heart squeezed. You kissed the crown of his head and said, “two more days.”
He reluctantly let you go, shadows chasing half-heartedly after you.
“Have fun being the artist’s dress up doll,” he teased as he leaned in the doorway, you in the hall.
You smirked back at him, “be careful how you speak of my High Lady.”
“Sense of humor, yet another reason to love you.”
You shook your head. “I know what you’re trying to do and it won’t work.”
“That flush suggests otherwise.”
He held his hands up in surrender, “can you blame a male in love for trying?”
Feyre could hear you both from the stairs by now and snickered at your, “good-bye, Azriel.”
He watched you go from the door of the house, feeling the weight of the world bearing down on you. He knew you wanted things to be perfect, both for Starfall and the ceremony, but he couldn’t care less for that perfection, least of which when it affected you like this. To him, it would be perfect just because of you. He’d have everything he’d want for the ceremony anyway. Just you. He didn’t need you wearing the perfect dress, didn’t need the perfect decorations, the perfect food. He’d eat the crumbs off your plate if you’d offered them to him.
Maybe that had been his mistake. He’d assumed you’d known that. Maybe he should’ve told you. He still could. Put an end to the massive undertaking his family had turned your wishes into. He loved that they wanted to help, but this was getting out of hand.
That was a conversation he needed to have. The next time he saw you, that’s what he’d do.
He, unfortunately, did not have the opportunity. After spending three hours trying on dresses before you found one you liked, Feyre pulled you around for another two hours with additional ceremony prep. Then after that, you were running around catching up on the work you hadn’t completed the previous day. You barely stopped to eat as Velaris became your personal obstacle course.
You crashed on the couch, but woke up in bed again, Azriel next to you. You pulled yourself out of bed, not waking him this time, and left him a note. There was still a lot for you to do the day of Starfall. You’d see him that night, when the work was all over.
Cassian had been your chosen mode of transportation up to the House of Wind for the events of the day, once all your work was done. You’d managed to get everything done just before sunset and found Cassian with renewed energy and enthusiasm.
He’d grinned at you, ribbing you over the events of the evening and ferried you up to the house with the two of you laughing the whole way.
Once deposited, you walked inside the house, finding your family setting up your decorations. Gwyn had kindly offered to officiate the ceremony tonight and the rest of the family were helping with the decorations.
“Alright,” you said, rubbing your hands together, “what still needs doing?”
“You need to get ready, and that’s all we’re allowing you to do,” Feyre said, firmly.
Amren dropped the decoration she had been fighting against and spun you around. “Out, girl.”
With her pushing you out of the room by your back, you could not see her, but you could feel the glare she was sending you and promptly shut up.
You teetered slightly on your feet, attempting to find some kind of excuse so you could still help, but found none. Your family sent you soft and amused smiles and you were silently on your way.
The laces on the back of your dress had been giving you trouble, and just as you were getting frustrated, emotions of the day still pulling at you, the door opened.
You turned. Feyre was not the one who’d entered the room.
He was dressed up, at least as far as he was likely willing to. The deep blue outfit was not anywhere near Rhys level, but it was beautiful. He was beautiful.
His eyes were wide, staring at you in such awe that you had to look away.
“It’s too much isn’t it? I thought so. I had a feeling about the other one. It’s all too much isn’t it? Everything’s-“
Azriel stopped you by reaching forward, holding your chin with his thumb and forefinger, gently stroking the bottom of your lip.
“You look stunning. It’s not too much. It’s not too little.” He punctuated this sentence with a soft, passionate kiss.
“It’s perfect.” Another kiss, this one longer than the first.
“Any type of ceremony, any timing, any and all details in any configuration, would be perfect. You want to know something?”
Words could not find you, so you nodded.
“There is no way this night could be anything other than perfect for me, because it’s you. You are everything I want, everything I could ever need. I couldn’t care what you’re wearing or what the room looks like, so long as I get to look at you.”
Tears lined your eyes as you said, “Me too.”
“That being said, let’s go enjoy the work you did. Just promise me you won’t run yourself into the ground over details again, okay? I don’t take kindly to my mate buried under mountains of work.”
“I promise,” you said, kissing him, “so long as you promise me the same.”
“And help me lace up the back of this?”
You both exited the room and slowly walked to the now fully decorated room. Your family noticed your quiet smiles and followed your lead, sobering the whole affair a bit. It was quiet and soft, but in a good way. The feeling you get as you open a brand new book. The feeling of lying down in your bed and staring at the ceiling.
There was a dreamy quality about the whole thing as you all moved to the balcony. Rhys and Feyre’s smiles were twinged with apologies but you waved them off, Azriel’s steady hand on your shoulder.
In the anticipation of Starfall before you, you both softly said your vows to each other, your family watching on with wistful smiles. You had planned something elaborate, in terms of the food you wanted to offer. A recreation of the meal you shared on your first date. It would have taken awhile, and was meant to be symbolic, but at the last minute, you decided to swap it out in favor of a spare cookie the two of you had made together the weekend before. It wasn’t perfect, but it was food the two of you had laughed over when you shared the experience of making it. Indicative of your love and a promise of what your future would be. Maybe it was perfect after all.
You each offered each other a bite as Gwyn guided you through the ceremony.
“Why were they so dry?” Azriel said, humorously, despite himself.
“I swore we put the right amount of milk in,” you laughed.
Gwyn smiled at the two of you as she slowly bound your hands together with a ribbon. As she concluded, lights began to flash across the sky. You watched it for a moment before you leaned in and shared a kiss, this time as mates. It was everything you could have wanted. It was perfect.
