Azris Drabble- pre-bethrothal meetcute
The strange fae holds himself like Rhys does, back straight and chin lifted as to look taller and older than he truly was. Azriel thinks heās asking for directions, not properly listening since heās never seen hair this red before. His skin tooā speckled and whiter than snow. Then, the bell rings.
āFuck off.ā Azriel says evenly, ignoring the High Fae and instead, plans the fastest route to the Western Tower. His fingers grow shakier around the documents in his hands- he hasnāt been late yet for a report and his stomach begins to sink at the thought of the Spymasterās anger. A gentle draft blows between his wings and his next few minutes fall into place once he sees the open window.
ā-no manner to treat a guest- what are you doing?ā
With his legs already through and perched awkwardly on the window sill, he looks back for his arms and asks, surprised, āYouāre still here?ā
āI would rather not be.ā
Azriel nods at this and the High Fae scowls even more, āCan you fly?ā
āWhat are you talking about? Do you even work here-ā The other splitters, his noble indignity very familiar to the Illyrian now. Thatās a no. He looks carefully againā the male is lean and tall, with long limbs. He asks, āCan you climb good?ā
āWell. Can you climb well.ā The stranger snaps but then loses his aggression, face softening and looking incredibly young and glowing, āYes.ā
He grabs the Faeās wrist, this time unable to ignore how the male balks when Azrielās scar tissue touches his unbelievably soft skin. He fights Azriel trying to wrestle his head through the window, swiping forcefully anywhere he could when his red hair is tugged at.
āThe dining hall.ā He points to the series of windows that began ten panes right of the fountain and ended ten panes to the left, āYou enter from the right.ā
āYou want me to climb my way there?ā
āHalfway. You could run through the courtyard for most of it anyways.ā Azriel snaps impatiently, now standing on the window sill precariously and stretching his wings for flight. āYou run good?ā
The High Fae stares at him and Azriel suddenly feels very self- conscious. Window sills arenāt ideal perches with mason walls taking up all the space one could need. It wouldnāt be the most elegant take-off, Azriel despairs, but he supposes heāll never see the pretty fae again so perhaps he could let this first impression sink.
Suddenly the fae smiles and itās a horrible thing- Azriel feels sick to his stomach and too nervous to jump off 50 metres. The other male presses the documents Azriel had forgotten to pick up when he was getting himself through. Gratitude is on his lips when suddenly, all the air is knocked out of him and heās free falling on his back.
Bye, gold eyes seem to say and finally, Azrielā shadows catch up to him when the wind finally catches his wings and he makes it off to the Western Tower. Morriganās fiance is late- Morrigan anxious- Keir impatient. Autumn Prince. Eris Vanserra.
