Trial and Error (9)
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: You came to Velaris under duress five years ago—pregnant, alone, and in hiding from something, or someone, too dangerous to even speak aloud. When your daughter begged you to go to school years after settling down in the apartment above a worn-down apothecary, you obliged her. But things still didn't feel safe. Azriel was going to do everything in his power to give you that safety. At least, he would try.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Angst, references to an abusive family, death, and pregnancy, Azriel's POV and this guy is panicking most of the time
a/n: Hiii if you've been waiting for this series ilysm and we are to be married <3 I hope you like part 9!! I have no idea how many parts are left but I always love writing this series so who knowss ❤️
Series Masterlist (all parts)
Main Masterlist ♡
~~
A pause blanketed the room, and Azriel wasn’t sure, but he thought he might have stopped breathing. Because that couldn’t be right—you being Beron’s daughter. Beron had sons. He couldn’t remember how many right now. Azriel could hardly remember much of anything.
His fingers squeezed yours. “What?”
He watched you close your eyes for a brief moment, a deep breath collecting your thoughts. “Beron is my father. Biologically. I don’t know who my mother is—some unnamed Autumn Court woman that Beron sent away after my birth. I was raised under a Lord. I was supposed to be a secret until I served the court best.”
Azriel took in each fact that fell from your lips. You recited them as if they were pieces of history you had learned in school—emotionally detached with a purpose.
“When it became clear that Spring was…teetering, Beron found the opening. Our marriage announcement was also going to announce my lineage. He was going to play it off as some long-lost daughter trope and say he never knew until then. And then I would unite the courts in some twisted sort of way.”
“And you knew of this plan?” Azriel softly asked. He still found his thumb brushing your hand in his confused state.
You scoffed out a laugh, the first sign of emotion since you’d begun reciting your truths. “The entire family knew of it. My brothers—Beron’s sons—all knew. His wife knew, and I’m sure she hated me for it. It was all very theatrical behind the scenes. In public, I was just a court lady.”
You pulled your hands from his to run them through your hair. Azriel caught himself reaching for you again, eager to calm some of your agitation, but he stopped himself. You needed a moment. You needed to think, and his touch might only distract you. Azriel tucked his hands in by his knees and fought against his shadows that reached for you.
With a slight shake of your head, you continued. “I’d known that my father wasn’t really my father since I was 6 years old. That was the age they put me in lessons and refused to let me play with other children. And then I was 10 and they decided I was old enough to know my future and… be okay with it, I guess. I didn’t understand what it meant. I don’t think I actually understood any of it until I met the man I was supposed to marry and watched Beron look at me like livestock. I think that’s why I did what I did. I wasn’t thinking and—”
Your face twisted as your words failed. Azriel felt something sharp slice through his chest as he heard your shaking breath catch in your throat.
This was awful.
Before knowing his mate, Azriel had cared for others. He understood how it felt to have empathy and worry and to experience the pain of another. He had thought his connection with his family meant he understood love and devotion to its fullest potential. He had thought he knew it most with Mor all those years ago, feeling so sure that he was in love with her and the gravity of what that meant.
But he hadn’t.
Looking at you now—taking in the few tears that fell into your lap—Azriel knew that he had only scratched the surface of those feelings.
Through the bond, he felt your sadness and conflict, and it ate at him. He wanted to wrap you in his arms and hide you from anything that could happen and everything that already had. Azriel felt as though his lungs were failing him because it hurt to breathe to see you so upset. It made him angry and desperate, and he felt it all so deeply that it created a branch of emotions he hadn’t yet experienced, but thought he had.
The echo of your voice was still there, reminding him of the pivotal truths you were revealing, but he couldn’t fight back the rampage of his feelings—his devotion to you. You could tell him anything, admit to anything, and he wouldn’t care. He never would have left you, even at the beginning. Even if you had told him of the most nefarious origins.
The thought scared him, in a small sense, but then you dragged in another hiccuping breath, and that fear disintegrated.
Azriel bit back his anger and the drive to protect you from the unseen, and he sighed out a breath. He unfurled his fingers from the fists he’d created atop his things and blinked several times to rid himself of his own haze. And then he turned to you once more, and he did what instinct called him to.
“It’s alright, my love,” Azriel comforted, speaking his thoughts into a single word he hadn’t yet confessed to. He shifted his wings to bring you into his lap, leaning back into an overstuffed cushion and holding you against him. “It’s alright. Take your time.”
Your hands had covered your face at some point, the action lost to his tirade of emotions. Azriel kissed the side of your head as you stayed there, and he realized, briefly, that barely any shock had registered at your reveal. He figured it might process later.
Or, he might never actually care about anything other than you, Melanie, and the two of you being safe and near him ever again.
He kept his lips near your ear as you settled, muttering things that he couldn’t recall even as he said them. He held you close, and it comforted him just as much as he hoped for you. Azriel understood then, in some small way, that as he came to know you more, the feelings would never stop. He would never be able to stop this growing canyon carving itself into his being.
He was in love with you.
But he knew that was inevitable.
Eventually, you calmed enough to pull back from his chest and puff your cheeks into a final breath. Your hands had settled along your thighs as they rested across him, and you turned to offer him a bittersweet sort of smile. It looked like Melanie’s, he thought—when she was guilty and trying to play it off like she wasn’t.
“Sorry,” you weakly laughed. “I try not to think about all of this. It’s odd, saying it out loud.”
“You don’t have to—”
But you were quick to cut him off—to interrupt his eagerness to make you comfortable. “No, Az. I’m basically done. I got through the worst part.” You ran your hands down your legs, looked to the ceiling, and then looked back down to him, your faces now only inches apart. “When the wedding date was set, I went to Eris. I begged him to make Beron see reason. Of course, that didn’t do much of anything at all, and Lucien was the only brother to actually listen to me, anyway. So…”
You mumbled out the last few words, picking at the bottom hem of Azriel’s sweater as you spoke. His shadows wove themselves between your fingers, and Azriel had to ignore the puffiness of your face right now because it was making him upset again.
“Did you know Lucien is here?” he asked, offering you distance from your retelling.
“He is?”
A spark of something other than sadness. Azriel clung to it. “Yes,” he nodded, brushing hair from your eyes. “Not all the time. But he’s part of the court, in a way. Do you think he knows what happened?”
“Bits and pieces, maybe. But he’d left for Spring years before. I only ever got letters to him. Nothing back.”
“Maybe I could bring him to you. To talk.” Something skeptical passed over your expression. Azriel quickly remedied it with another press of his lips. “His mate is here. In Velaris. You know him better than I do, but I can almost guarantee he has cut ties with Spring and Autumn completely.”
“Maybe,” you nodded. “But he doesn’t know about Melanie. I don’t—”
“She won’t be anywhere near anything unsure,” Azriel quickly assured, his voice becoming harder. “Melanie’s safety will never be a question.”
You looked at him then, eyes low under your wet lashes. With a slight tilt of your head and a steady square of your shoulders, you said, “I knew a noble boy growing up. He–he had always been kind to me. He didn’t know who I really was, but I think he knew what I was fated for. He saw how I was treated and who I wasn’t allowed to talk to. When… I couldn’t get Eris to listen, I went to him. That same night. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, and I didn’t think it would lead to this, but I had to ruin myself. I had to do something.”
Some of Azriel’s missing shock found him now. “Are you saying you had only been with a man once before Melanie?”
“I wasn’t allowed to speak to a man without Beron present. That was the first time.”
“But, for you to get pregnant—As fae—”
“I know,” you almost laughed. “Terrible luck, isn’t it? I didn’t even consider it a possibility. I told Beron what happened two weeks later when he set the date for me to leave for Spring. I figured it would buy time, but then I started throwing up every morning, and Beron was so angry. I thought I could take anything he threw at me, but when I confirmed I was pregnant, I wouldn’t allow myself to put her in danger like that.”
“What was he doing to you?” Azriel croaked out, afraid of the answer even when it happened so many years ago.
You shook your head slightly. “It doesn’t matter, Azriel. I just knew I had to protect her. I—I had to get out of Autumn and disappear, but it wasn’t that easy. Beron was watching me all the time, demanding to know who I had slept with—who had ruined me. I wouldn’t tell him. It wasn’t his fault, and I didn’t want that man killed, but I knew—” you paused, pressing your lips into a hard line. Your eyes dropped to a point on his chest. “You might hate me for this.”
“Impossible,” he quickly replied, nudging your chin up between his fingers. “Nothing you could say or do would ever make me hate you. You and Melanie are my life now. That is not changing.”
Tears returned to gloss your eyes. “I told him. I had to tell him to get away that night. I knew he would go after him, and I would be able to run, but that would be the only distraction that would work. My only opening. I don’t—Azriel, I don’t know if he’s still alive. I don’t know if I killed him.”
Azriel fought the blistering urge to ask if you had loved this man. It would be an easy conclusion with how broken you looked, but… that didn’t seem to be it. You may have loved him, yes, but it was the thought of having him killed that was torturing you.
So, Azriel pushed petty jealousy aside.
“You did what you had to do. You needed to protect yourself. To protect Melanie. You didn’t kill anyone, angel,” Azriel assured you, rubbing his hands over your arms as if to warm you.
“But it would be my fault,” you nodded, jaw quivering. “If he were dead. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into. And—and he might not be dead. I know Beron is still after me. They could be keeping him alive just to torture me and they could find Melanie if I ever tried to look and—”
Azriel gently shushed you, bringing your face into his chest. He ran his hands over your hair and rested his chin atop your head, staring hard into the wall of your tiny home.
There was very little Azriel could do about any of this.
Very little without your permission to tell others—to tell Rhysand and get you guaranteed safety.
Azriel wished Melanie was home.
He wanted to hold her, too.
~~
You had fallen asleep after another hour.
Neither of you had talked about your past any longer. It was clear the topic was wearing you out, and Azriel would have been lying if he said he didn’t feel the same. The onslaught of your emotions paired with the helplessness he felt was overwhelming. He held you until you fell asleep, tucked you into bed with his lips against your ear, and then left—against every instinct telling him to stay.
He needed to speak with Cassian.
Hours prior, Azriel had shoved Cassian into the wall of the House with a thinly-vailed threat and gritted teeth. He had told him to keep his mouth shut and then flown off to find you before you fled Velaris.
He had calmed some when he found you still very much at home, but the fear still lingered.
He needed to explain himself. To some extent.
Although you had given him a sort of permission, Azriel found himself completely uninclined to actually tell the Inner Circle about you. He had been begging you before, wanting your safety and to have you and Melanie be wholly connected to each part of his life. But, as time passed, he found himself more and more protective of the family he was creating. He still wanted you safe. He still wanted you to feel the love of those around him, but the desire to keep you both to himself was growing.
He needed to get over that.
He could picture you fitting so perfectly in his life, the support of his family surrounding you. Mel could grow up with Nyx, and you wouldn’t even have to think about Autumn again if you didn’t want to. You deserved the joy of connection. Of Velaris. Of feeling safe.
He could start with Cassian.
Azriel gritted his teeth and considered Feyre as a more preferable alternative, but Feyre was High Lady. A High Lady being your first introduction after all that you shared was not going to work. And it would be easier for you since you had already… met Cassian. An unfortunate meeting, but one that still happened.
Azriel found Cassian on the roof of the House.
His brother had finished training just recently, his shoulders still heaving as he unwrapped his hands and reached for water. Azriel saw Cassian tense slightly when he landed by the ring, but he only threw him an unimpressed glance following.
“You here to sock me again? Because I didn’t deserve it the first time and I don’t deserve another one.”
Azriel smirked despite himself. “You will always deserve a punch to the jaw.”
Cassian scoffed out a laugh, wiping his mouth to clear the water droplets. “Yeah, whatever. You gonna tell me what’s wrong?”
He wasn’t bringing you up. Cassian knew, of course he knew, and he was using discretion. Azriel felt a tinge of gratefulness spark for his Brother, something he had become familiar with dozens of times in the past.
“That woman,” Azriel began, vowels forming into your name to remind Cassian. “She is my mate.”
Cassian looked shocked, but only for a flickering second. Maybe not to scare Azriel off. Maybe to seem casual enough to get him to continue, because last time he took this seriously, you ran off and Azriel threatened his life.
“Really?” Cassian tried, a hint of sarcasm heightening his tone.
“I love her, Cassian.”
“Oh.”
Azriel wet his lips and moved back a step as Cassian exited the training ring. His wing almost got caught, but Cassian wasn’t looking. He wasn’t paying attention to anything but Azriel and the hard expression on his face.
When Azriel couldn’t find the words to continue, Cassian filled in. “Why—how long have you known her?”
“A few months. We met at the school.”
“Months? Azriel, why haven’t—forgive me for asking, but why not bring her around? Why tell me to forget I met her? She is yours, Azriel. That makes her ours, too, in a way.”
It was exactly what Azriel wanted to hear and exactly why he had kept you a secret. He’d known his family would feel this way, and he’d known that would scare you. He hadn’t realized just how frightening such a huge amount of affection would be for you until tonight, but he’d known enough.
Azriel clenched his jaw as he replayed your story in his head. He watched your expression crumble and remembered how close you clutched Melanie each time you held her.
“She’s private. She wanted to see if we would work out first. She has… obligations.”
“You mean her kid?”
“Cassian—” Azriel warned, but then stopped himself just as quickly. It wasn’t a crime to mention Melanie, but it felt like it was. To him. “Yes, her daughter. She didn’t want to introduce people to her daughter’s life if it wasn’t going to be long term.”
Cassian eyed his brother’s clenched fists and raised his own hands in a small show of surrender. “Okay. Got it. So it’s long term now?”
“Yes.”
“And you want to introduce her to everyone?”
“Just to you.”
“Just me?”
“And Lucien. When he’s here.”
Cassian let a beat of silence pass. And then another just long enough for its weight to be felt. “I’m going to agree to that only because you’re being extremely weird and hostile.”
“I am not being weird and hostile,” Azriel refuted.
“Az, that combination of people is weird. You’re being weird. And you haven’t moved a muscle since you started talking about her. It’s like you’re thinking about beating my ass again but have to keep stopping yourself.”
Azriel did not realize he was so easily read. With an insurmountable effort, Azriel relaxed his posture—about an inch.
“Don’t tell anyone yet. I want to do this slowly,” Azriel said, looking down as a shadow alerted him of your still sleeping form. He wanted to get back soon. “Can you promise that, Cassian?”
“Of course I can,” Cassian easily replied. “I just don’t understand—”
Azriel did not let him finish. With the reveal of your past so new and raw, Azriel’s nerves were on edge and he knew he was being hostile. It wasn’t the time for grand reveals or even casual conversations with his brother. Azriel needed to get back to you before the bond chaffed any longer.
“The hell is wrong with that guy?” Cassian muttered under his breath as wind kicked up in Azriel’s wake. Shadows relayed the message to a retreating Illyrian’s ear.
