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Chapter Text

The stars seemed both brighter and somehow quieter in Velaris tonight. They were swaddled in soft tendrils of light in brilliant shades of soft blue and gentle gold. It seemed as though they almost danced in the soft summer breeze. The gossamer floor to ceiling curtains danced in the breeze like soft tendrils of smoke from a recently extinguished candle, the deep violet seeming to cradle the soft silver shimmer within its folds.

Elain sighed as she spun to retire to the exquisite quarters her sister had painstakingly designed with and for her. At the time, she adored every part of it: the soft violet down duvet littered with night blooming jasmine was one of her favorite things, despite it being a very small part of her choices.

What Feyre hadn't noticed was that for every part of her quarters that screamed Elain, the details were often articulated with a smokey cobalt: a color that she much preferred since just before every choice she had ever made was stripped from her and she became... this. A seer.

She was better off when everyone thought she was lost in her mind. Now, despite their best efforts, she saw the way they looked at her. Nesta herself had said what everyone thought; "Maybe you will become interesting at last."

Unfortunately, seeing the future meant that she saw many possible futures.

The thing about futures; everyone desires to secure their own by any means necessary. Although she loved her newfound family, they themselves were not innocent of their ambitions. She couldn't blame them of course, but what she had come to understand in the past few years was that though ambition keeps you alive, you become comfortable and perhaps even obsessed with control.

Each step she took back towards her quarters left her breathless with her shoulders tightening, like the small porcelain ballerina within her music box in her childhood bedroom. She remembered staring at its pristine, stiff beauty and hearing her mother proclaim "Elain shall wed for love and beauty." Now she imagined she was that ballerina, stuck in the guilded cage of her music box, subjected to a fate of dancing whenever whatever master she had wound her tight enough.

Her old master; Poverty. Feyre and her spring prince had cracked the bars of that prison, and she had planned to secure her freedom by shackling herself to a provider.

Master number two; Grayson came along, and at least he pretended to love her. She gave herself to him, and at the first test of honor, he left her to the wolves. Thinking back to their final encounter at the manor with her new family in tow, a shudder escaped from the deepest part of her soul. At least he had no knowledge of-she wouldn't dare think of that tonight.

Crossing the guilded threshold of her spectacular cage, the soft curtain wrapped around her leg, causing her to stumble, stuck in it's starry violet grasp.

What a parallel to her loving brother, she mused. He, of course grew to care for her in his own way, but she knew he had a soft leash on her. How he thought she wouldn't know about his meddling in her love life, she couldn't fathom. Five centuries of existence, a calculating demeanor, and he hadn't figured that much out. How he thought he could hide all of it from a seer was absolutely beyond her. She gently released herself from the soft fabric, placing it back in its resting place. She was grateful for her brother, and he was a wonderful friend, but would never be a trusted confidant. Even he had expectations and uses for her.

The only person who didn't was... him.

She shuffled from the cold wood of the floor to her plush carpet in front of her ornate cherry wood four poster bed. Leaning against one of the posts, her fingers trailed the swirls of vines that danced down the length of it, adorned with tiny flowers that slightly extended out from the vines themselves. The pastel cerulean satin robe hugging her shoulders was stifling in the August heat, and she slipped out of it, slinging the delicate material over the edge of her violet bedspread.

The summer breeze again drifted through the large french doors of her balcony causing the satin of her remaining nightgown to billow around her, emphasizing her noticeably curvy hips. She often hid her pear shape under larger clothing, but the humid feeling that only summer can bring had her picking a riskier option this evening. It certainly helped that Azriel was due back from the continent any moment of this silent, gentle night.

The doors were left ajar as if beckoning for him in the distance in case he saw fit to visit this evening. His presence never an intrusion the way he convinced himself it would be. She sighed as she drifted to the vanity and sat on the velvet stool. Out of the enemies that Azriel had collected over the centuries, he himself was certainly the worst.
Grabbing two small crystal glasses and a decanter filled with amber liquid, she summoned any courage she could drag from her shaky hands. Warm breath skittered out between her lips as the crystal stopper gleamed in the light. The soft trickle of the whiskey broke her from her negative reverie, and she recalled the vision from earlier today. Her chest tightened as she glanced out the window, noting the position of the moon and the placement of the shadows cast across the balcony. Running her fingers through her silky golden brown waves, she kept her small vigil. Unlike her sisters, her hair was fine and wispy-wavy; A perfect combination for the snarls she got by the nape of her neck. The unruly snarls did little to calm her anxiety- What would she say to Azriel when she saw him?

They had been seeing each other for nearly six months- a year and a half since that disastrous solstice, which Azriel had repeatedly apologized for. She didn't hold it against him, but she was not above jokingly bringing it up to get her way on some small trivial matter such as requesting a rare flower from wherever his duties sent him. Azriel, not one to accept defeat would take it a step further and bring her massive bouquets absolutely overflowing with rich and rare flora. His spies, it seemed, knew a wonderful florist in every region.

The corners of her lips twitched. she was eager to see the new blooms he brought back. but most importantly, she was eager to see him.

As the moon continued to climb in the sky, the watchful stars continued to increase their light, the tendrils that cradled them growing more vivid. It was like witnessing a private symphony of moonlight and a late August breeze. Her reflection looked like one of Feyres portraits that littered the halls, and the sparkling stars behind her took her breath away-her silhouette an insignificant footnote in the eternal symphony of creation. The stars indeed sung an inaudible song of ages. What she would give to hear the songs of the shadows who belonged to them.

She smoothed her loose tendrils when she saw some trick of the light. Turning to peer out on the balcony, she did not see any shadows out of place. Her nerves were absolutely shot. Before she had the chance to think about her actions, both glasses were drained, leaving a burning sensation in their wake, though it did nothing to loosen the tightening of her shoulders and chest.

The sound of crystal smacking on wood seemed to reverberate as she put both hands on her heart, willing it to remain in her chest and catching her breath. "Be still, foolish thing!" she hissed at her reflection.

A disembodied chuckle seemed to crescendo as it became audible through the ether. "Well, it must be foolish to be waiting for me."

Elain jumped on the stool, knocking a crystal glass onto the rug in her surprise. Shadows swirled around her, caressing her skin like the soft brush of a rose petal. They snaked across the floor to a single spot, and Azriel slowly appeared in the room with an appreciative look in his eyes, which darkened as they raked across her silken nightgown. The crystal glass shimmered as he reached to lift it off the oriental Amethyst rug. "I missed you too, my love."

Chapter Text

Azriel stood there and Elain somehow saw him both as if he never left. and as though he had been gone for centuries. A foot taller than her. she quickly closed the distance collapsing into him. A strangled squeek came out of her as she melted into his scaled armor. He wrapped her in his warm embrace and pressed a barely perceptible kiss to the crown of her head. Perhaps it was moments, or hours later, Azriel pulled back about arms length and raised an eyebrow at her choice of outfit.

"Oh! Well, you see, I was strolling by the Sidra with Feyre one evening, and the fae lights over the road continued farther down. We decided to follow them and we found such sweet little shops. There was a small garden shop, a book shop, a bakery-you would love their pastries-a toy shop, and a small boutique." Elain recalled the warm twinkle of the cascading orbs that draped over the street like the stars themselves reached down to cradle the small groups of fae who spread out down the street. The nightgown and robe were visible in the window of the small boutique. The gentle champagne-gold shift of the light cerulean satin of the dress glowed in the incandescent light, and she had found herself staring intently through the window, and Feyre urged her to pick up the beautiful set, teasing Elain about finding someone to wear it for. If only Feyre knew.

“I was not originally going to get it, but my sister convinced me. I could not tear my eyes from it." She ran her palms along the fabric, as Azriel reached to do the same. “I will have to give our High Lady my thanks. You look radiant as a clear sky after weeks of rain." Elain's eyes gave a good-natured roll “And you say that you don't have to resort to poetry." A purely male smirk bloomed across his face. “I don't, but it does make your face turn a lovely shade of rose."

Two scarred hands cradled her face as he ran rough, calloused hands over her hot cheeks. Her hands moved to cover his as she closed her eyes and breathed in his intoxicating scent of smokey cedar and night-chilled mist. She thought about how his scent became deeper when he was caressing her in the hours that only the moon watched. Elain grabbed Azriel's hand and brought him over to the bed." come and rest with me, my love. Your travels must have been exhausting."

Gone were her trembling hands, comforted by the very one who made them shake in his extended absence. Elain thought her recent overwhelming well of emotions strange. They crashed like the tempest waves of the sea, which she longed to visit in a time of peace. Perhaps she would ask Azriel if he was ever able to have leave of his duties, which were many as of late.

After she led him to the bed, he began undressing to the base layers beneath his armor, removing his shirt entirely. Crossing the ornate violet rug, she once again removed the stopper on the whiskey decanter, pouring a very minuscule amount for herself and a far more generous glass for him. While filling his glass, she turned to him." so, what horrible cesspool of evil has our dear friend, Koschei, been holed up in all this time?" Evidently, she had hit a sore spot in the shadow singer's trip. "If only I knew. Each time I have a lead, the shadows go silent. All I know is that his lair is perhaps in the secluded foothills of Rask or Monteserre. I find it odd that the land is all the same through there, there should be slight variations in the rock or wildflowers and yet, it is all eerily similar. A magical barrier is the most likely explanation, however, there is nothing I like less than wasting my precious time with you on court drama. Besides, we have no plan to confront the threat yet, so it's just surveillance at this point."

The cold crystal glass met the heat of his hand and his throat bobbed as he took a gulp of the bitter liquid within, gingerly placing it on the nightstand. Hazel eyes met her own, and he extended his hand towards her. “Come, love. Let me look upon you as I have longed to in the sanctuary of my mind since the last time I laid eyes on you." Her cheeks once again displayed the gentle rose color that only his 'poetry' could draw out of her. Drawing nearer to his warmth, she smirked at him. “Male with the voice of shadows, however would you charm me so if your voice ceased?" She had him with her pretty words this time, she was certain. These fancy words traded were always a silly challenge.

Not noticing that his own hand guided her own to his mouth, which left a heartbreakingly gentle kiss on her hand. A wicked smirk stretched across his visage as his eyes met hers, her hand still suspended an inch beneath the point of his chin, which was littered with the stubble that she loved. “Why Seer of Worlds, Lady of Visions, Keeper of Fates Unknown, did you forget? I have other ways of using my tongue to honor you." He punctuated each title with a kiss to her hand. "... and honor you I shall." His eyes darkened as his tongue left his mouth and trailed up her arm to her collarbone, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

******

The moon sunk considerably in the sky. Elain and Azriel drifted in and out of sleep, exhausted from the hour, Azriel's mission, and of course their greeting to each other. A soft tranquility had settled upon Elain like a gentle sunrise with a promise of the day to come. It was hard to resist the pull of his windswept curls, which imi­tated his shadows in every way.

Elain raked her slender fingers through the spymaster’s hair, and he stirred, wings stiffening just slightly. The soft sound of his inhale through his nostrils whispered in the comfort of the down bedspread. “The flowers that you put in here smell absolutely heavenly. I'm not sure why you picked some when you know that I always save some for you."

Elain's brow knit, she didn't recall arranging a bouquet, but she smelled it as well. The rich floral scent smelled like midnight orchids and... Wisteria? That couldn't be right. Wisteria was not in season.

Elain flipped onto her back, flipping the sheets so she could sit up. The scent was overwhelming now-from her. She did not have any soaps or perfumes scented like that. Azriel sleepily continued his line of questioning; “Did you put on per-"

A tiny, rapid thudding was nearly inaudible and deafening at the same time. Ever so slowly, she turned towards Azriel as his nostrils flared and wings twitched. Drowning in an excess of air, everything was too much and not enough at the same time.

“Well, this-this changes things." She reached for her bedspread and covered her midsection as a single tear escaped. Her hands reached up and concealed her face as the room began to spin.