Chapter Text
Azriel had always liked Starfall.
Even he could enjoy one night a year where they danced and were merry…where they pretended that everything was just fine.
Just that this year…he couldn’t quite manage it.
Feyre had invited Lucien.
A year after that catastrophic Winter Solstice.
And for the very first time, Elain…Elain seemed not just willing but genuinely happy to converse with her mate.
*Keep away from her,* Rhys had repeated his order that morning, making it very clear what he wanted his spymaster to do. And Azriel…well, he had acquiesced.
Of course, he did.
Nobody had even noticed when he had slipped away…Nobody had wanted to notice. Why should they? They were all content...they were all happy.
Mor's mating bond with Emerie had snapped just weeks before and that had...everybody was so very pleased for her.
*You are not going to ruin this for Mor,* Rhys had snapped into his mind. *She has been through enough.*
Azriel wasn't going to ruin it.
So he pretended that everything was normal. And then he disappeared silently, and launched himself off the balcony and went flying. He didn't need to think when he did that. Even the shadows kept silent.
The night sky was a velvety black, speckled with countless glittering stars.
Azriel loved to fly, loved the rush of the wind buffeting his body, the exhilarating feeling of power and freedom. He soared high into the sky, basking in the cool breeze on his face.
At least he had this .
As a child it was all he had wanted. And now...now it was...now it was seemingly the one thing that gave him something close to peace. The last few green sparkling streaks on the sky...Skyfall was nearly over, once again.
He basked in it for a little while. Until he felt the scratch of Rhys' mental claws against his walls.
*Azriel,* Rhys' voice was harsh, sharp, demanding. *Where are you?*
* Out. * Azriel answered simply. * Flying. *
*Come back,* Rhys ordered with a sigh. *Look, I get it. You are angry at me.*
Azriel didn't even bother answering to that, swooping lower and then pushing higher again, revelling in the cold night air.
*Elain and Lucien are figuring things out,* Rhys continued.
* Good for them, * Azriel replied, his tone still bland. * Is there anything else? *
Rhys let out an exasperated breath.
*Azriel...I am sorry,* his brother apologised. *Be angry at me all you like. This would have only ended in heartbreak for you anyway.*
*That should have been my decision to make,* Azriel's voice was cold, curt, brooking no argument.
Rhys sighed. *Not if the political ramifications could have upset an already strained peace,* Rhys snapped. *Be reasonable, Azriel.*
* Are you done? * he asked Rhys drily.
*Azriel... * Rhys' voice was exasperated. *Fine. Be angry with me, if it makes you feel better,* his brother snorted. *If you want to throw a tantrum like a child, be my guest.*
Azriel gritted his teeth. This was not a tantrum. *Great. Thanks.* he shot back at Rhys nonetheless.
*Elain is happy, Azriel,* Rhys said softly. *And you should be happy for her.*
* Fine, * he said, voice toneless. * I am happy for her. What else do you want from me, Rhys? *
*For you to stop sulking,* Rhys replied. *And to come back to the Party.*
*No,* Azriel said simply, making another loop in the sky, feeling the wind rushing past him.
*Azriel,* Rhys growled, his temper shortening. I mean it.
*I think I'll go to that pleasure hall near the harbour instead,* Azriel said, his voice cold. * After all, if I want to fuck somebody, I should go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, right? *
*Azriel!* his brother snapped, clearly irritated. *That is enough.*
* What? I am just following your orders, High Lord, * Azriel gave back icily.
*You sound like a petulant child.* Rhys snapped.
* Go back to your party, * Azriel said drily. * I'll be just fine. *
Rhys let out a huffing breath. *Fine. Go and pout some more.*
Azriel ignored his brother, closing the connection and feeling his walls snap back into place.He would pout some more. Thank you very much.
Azriel flew higher, ignoring the party, ignoring everything. He pushed his wings faster, harder, revelling in the wind, in the silence, in the stars above him.
The only sound he could hear was his heartbeat, pulsing in his ears, matching the beating of his wings as he flew. He flew and flew and flew, until his muscles ached, until his wings felt heavy.
It was nice. He liked it. He loved it, in fact.
There was a reason he loved flying so much. It was freedom, it was a rush, but most of all it was quiet.
He did go back to the House of Wind…even when he had no plans to go back to that party. He would go to his room and pout some more. Maybe write some more reports.
Do whatever the High Lord expected the Spymaster to do.
He landed one one of the many, many balconies, recognising the Priestesses’ herb garden with a start.
"Spymaster."
Azriel froze for a heartbeat, closing his eyes, cursing mentally. He had wanted to come back unnoticed, to slip in silently. But apparently he wasn’t the lucky.
One of the Priestesses was sitting on the balcony’s ledge. He wasn’t scared that she was going to jup, simply because the balconies were spelled to prevent exactly that.
Sitting there, wrapped in a thick knitted blanket, with dark brown hair reached her waist was Irena.
Clotho’s right hand. The one in charge of seemingly all the paperwork that involved the library. All the bureaucracy went over Irena’s desk, all the accounts and acquisitions…
She was the daughter of one merchant of the midlands, married off to another richer merchant as soon as she had been barely old enough.
Azriel had met her for the first time two centuries ago. There had been a string of disappearances of young girls in the surrounding areas and his shadows had very quickly found the culprit.
Azriel had killed her husband…before he could kill Irena. Her husband had had a taste for violence…his young, beautiful wife had been one of his long-suffering victims.
Azriel had brought her to the library. He hadn’t really thought that she would bloom here as she had…hadn’t thought that a girl raised with a silver spoon in her mouth would be content with in the library. But she was.
And Irena turned out to be one of those scarily efficient people that could do the job of three people. In two hundred years, she had actually managed to make the House of Wind cost Rhys nearly nothing in upkeep anymore. Thanks to the gardens of the priestesses that kept them in fruits and vegetables and herbs…some of them sold to the vendors in Velaris, some turned into creams and potions in the stillroom, that were also sold…the library was just one thing the priestesses did. Some preferred the stillroom or the gardens or even needle work, knitted sweaters that were handed out to the needy in Velaris.
She had done that. Had bloomed and flourished here.
"Irena," he finally brought out, his voice hoarse.
She turned to face him for the first time. She had just grown more beautiful over the years…with long dark hair and dark doe eyes sat in a delicate face.
But all of that didn’t matter anymore. The moment their eyes met...suddenly everything changed.
His priorities were rearranged. All he cared about anymore was her. Was the priestess wrapped in her wool blanket sitting on that balcony ledge…
Irena.
She was his mate .
" Oh ," she breathed, her brown doe eyes widening near comically large.
Azriel just stared at her, feeling as though even the world had stopped breathing.
His mate .
His mate was sitting in front of him.
Irena .
Irena was his mate.
"Azriel," she whispered, her voice was soft, barely more than a whisper.
They just stared at each other for a long, long time. He stepped closer to her, wanting to touch her, wanting to feel her soft skin beneath his fingers, her soft lips against his. He wanted to pull her close...he wanted...
But Azriel didn't reach out. he didn't want to scare her. Didn't want to corner her. So he simply leant next to the railing a little bit away from her, still staring at her. "I..." he stuttered, trying to come up with he perfect sentence to tell his mate.
"I...I didn't expect that," Irena whispered.
"Me neither," Azriel said quietly, still slightly breathless, the information slowly sinking in.
"But it's not... unwelcome ?" Irena offered next.
"Absolutely not," Azriel said immediately. "I mean..." he said. She looked so small, sitting there on the ledge, wrapped into her blanket. One delicate shoulder poked out of it, only covered by white, near translucent cotton. She must only be wearing her nightdress, he realised suddenly.
She looked…so young right at that moment.
"Are you okay?" he asked her quietly, still staring at her, a soft, tender feeling spreading through him.
His . She was his .
Irena closed her eyes with a heavy breath, before nodding hesitantly. "I just....this was..." she said slowly, not daring to look at him. "It was unexpected."
"For both of us," Azriel said quietly, trying to read her expression. Was it...was she happy? Was she upset ?
She nodded, and then bit her lip. "I..." she started and his eyes lingered at that small, plump lip of hers, wishing that he would be the one biting it.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly and he instantly snapped his eyes back up to her face. "Sorry?" he echoed, frowning, because...what was she apologizing for?
"I mean," she continued, her dark brows knitting together as she bit her lip. Oh dear god, Azriel had never wanted to be a lip so much in his life. "I... I don't think I'm what you were expecting ."
Azriel took a breath, ready to assure her that he was positively delighted at the prospect of her being his mate but the words didn't quite leave his lips because...
"Are you dissappointed?" he managed, his hands clenching around the railing. He was scared what her answer would be.
She finally looked at him. Looked into his eyes and Azriel felt the world slow down for a moment, felt his throat tighten as she searched his expression, searching for something.
Whatever she was searching for, she seemed to find it though because she let out a sigh of relief, her lips quirking into a small, self-depreciating smile. "No," she said honestly. Azriel's breath caught at the Genuity on her face. "No, I'm not. But I...I don't know what...if I can ever give you..." Irena said weakly.
He shook his head. "We have time," Azriel promised her fiercely. All the time. They could figure this out at their own pace.
"Time," Irena echoed softly, looking towards the vast, twinkling night sky, the stars reflected in her eyes.
She looked back at him for a moment, and he could see an almost helpless expression in her eyes.
"I...I don't want to disappoint you,” she said quietly.
"You couldn’t," Azriel whispered, still staring at her, at the beautiful face of his mate. "Believe me, you never could disappoint me."
She gave him the tiniest smile. She didn't believe him, he knew that. Regardless of how ridiculous it was. She deserved more than him. More than scarred and battered and broken warrior.
"I will never...I will never force you," he promised her softly. "I will never..."
She nodded, but Azriel still saw something like relief flash over her face.
It broke his heart. "You are a good male," she whispered.
"No. I am not," Azriel immediately disagreed, because he knew he wasn't. He couldn't even begin to name all the things he had done, all the horrors he had committed.
He had killed her husband. That was just one of the things on his long, long list. “You deserve better than me,” he said weakly.
"You are my mate," Irena murmured softly. "There is nothing better."
"I...have...killed people," he protested. Killed her husband too. though he did think that that male deserved it.
"You did," she agreed. "You are a warrior. A protector. You were the one that saved me" she said quietly.
Irena took a deep breath, and then, slowly, reached out, touching his scarred fingers, running small, delicate fingertips over the back of his hands, and Azriel froze, completely still, hardly able to breath as she slowly traced the scars on his skin.
Her touch was light, but searing, making his skin tingle.
He slowly turned his hand, catching her fingers between his, squeezing gently as he intertwined their hands.
"I will never force you. I will never lay a finger on you. Whatever we do in the future, is your decision," he swore.
She stared up at him, the stars reflected in her eyes, her cheeks a faint pink.
Beautiful . Azriel thought, mesmerized and completely enraptured.
"I believe you," she whispered and Azriel's breath caught.
From her...that had been hurt so much...to hear that...it was...
"I will protect you," Azriel promised fiercely and her breath hitched as he lifted her hand, carefully, gently pressing his lips to the tips of her fingers. "I will protect you with my life."
She smiled at him then, a real smile, and Azriel felt as though his heart might stop. He had thought her beautiful before, but now, with her face illuminated in all its delicate beauty by the starry night sky...she was breathtaking .
"I...I will need some time to adjust," Irena said softly. Azriel just nodded dumbly, still a little star struck by her smile. "I...I haven't..." Irena said and she turned her head, looking out into the night sky, her hand still in his.
She hesitated, clearly struggling for words, and Azriel felt his heart seize up in his chest. Had he overwhelmed her? Had he pressured her?
"I haven't been with anyone in a long time." she admitted quietly. Irena didn't look at him, but Azriel was still looking at her, taking in her soft, almost angelic features, the slight blush on her cheeks.
He swallowed."I understand," Azriel whispered, and he did. He understood her hesitation, her uncertainty. And he would be patient...he would wait for as long as she needed.
"But...if you wanted to...you know where to find me," she said softly.
Azriel felt as though he was dreaming. He had found his mate, his beautiful, incredible mate, and she had welcomed him, wanted him even, and
Breathe . He told himself as he tried to calm the hammering of his heart. Breathe .
And slowly, carefully, he nodded, his fingers still interlaced with hers. "I will come to you," he said, his voice husky. "Whenever you want me too."
She was...a gift. A gift he didn't deserve but would treasure always.
Slowly...and so, so very carefully, Azriel stepped closer to her, still holding her hand, before lowering himself slowly down to sit next to her on the ledge. And this close he could sense just how much smaller she was than him, could feel the heat radiating from her body, smell her scent.
Poppies and something sweet and warm like…apple blossoms maybe?
Azriel wanted...gods, he wanted to kiss her.
But he didn't. He just held her hand, trying to memorize every small detail of hers. The curve of her cheek, the soft blush on her skin, her nose, the full lips.... The tiny flecks of gold in her eyes that reflected the stars above them.
She was breathtakingly beautiful
For a moment Azriel forgot where there were, forgot the cold air around them. For a moment there were only the two of them on this ledge, beneath the stars and a soft night sky. And it was...he felt peaceful .
It wasn't a feeling he had a lot. But here, on the ledge, his hand in hers, he felt at peace. And when Irena slowly rested her head on his shoulder, Azriel could feel nothing but utter contentment.
His heart swelled with affection for her, and he carefully rested his cheek against her head, taking a deep breath.
This was real. She was his mate.
She was truly, truly his.
His .
And nobody knew. Nobody had a clue. He could keep her all to himself.
And selfishly...that felt really good.
Nobody was going to have an opinion about them. Nobody needed to know now.
He wanted to keep her a secret. Gods, he wanted to.
She let out a soft, content sigh, her head still resting on his shoulder, and Azriel smiled to himself.