A Court of Golden Shadow || Elain x Azriel

Chapter 2 - Mother Save Me

"Emerie." Nesta replied in a hushed tone. "Em won it off Gwyn in a game of poker the week we had the mini Pegasus in the house. After Solstice? Remember that? Cassian had gone to some training camp with the Illyrians. Ever since that party, Em wore it under her leathers, so maybe you didn't see it at practice, but I think she gave it to Mor to remember her during her trip to Vallahan. Mor and Emerie..." Nesta's explanation trailed off.

Azriel nodded his appreciation for the explanation before turning back to his wine, panic subsiding for the moment.

Emerie.

Mor.

Honestly, he was not surprised, especially having spent so much time with Emerie during Valkerie training. He always knew Mor had an... appreciation... for females, but her dalliances with males throughout the centuries had kept his hope alive that he could one day be graced with her affections. He didn't think Rhys or Cassian knew about her varied interests, but to think that he wouldn't be aware... come on. He was the gods damned Spymaster of the Night Court. He knew everything.

So Emerie and Mor were some sort of item. He had given the necklace to Gwyn who had lost it to Emerie, who had gifted it to Mor, who had now left Elain with the impression that Azriel had given it to Morrigan as some sort of romantic parting gift.

Fabulous.

Was the cauldron fucking with him, or was this just a result of his supreme idiocy?

Rallying his shadows, Azriel rose from the table, excusing himself and heading down the hall towards Elain's chambers. He rapped on her door lightly, before his shadows whispered that she was not present. Heading down the hallway and deeper into the mansion, Azriel caught a scent of honey and jasmine leading towards the garden.

He didn't know what he was going to say, but he had to come up with something.

ﾟ☆: *.☽ ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── ☽ .* :☆ﾟ

Striding into the fresh air of the gardens, Elain took a deep breath.

She had known that Azriel had a thing for Morrigan at one point. Feyre had mentioned it in passing. And although she had never witnessed any affections other than of the sibling variety between the two, she had no reason to doubt Feyre's interpretation of her family.

And now the proof was in the pudding. The necklace.

And it wasn't so much the fact that Azriel had clearly chosen Morrigan over Elain. It was the fact that a necklace that Elain had thought was chosen especially for her, to honor her love of roses and given with an almost-kiss on a special night of the fae calendar, could be so easily interchanged and gifted to another female.

Stupid stupid stupid.

She felt a hot tear spring up from within. Heaving a sigh and steadying herself with a hand on the back of a patio chair, Elain clutched her other hand to her stomach, breathing deeply of the warm night air, willing the tears back inside, collecting herself, one calculated breath at a time.

It was just a necklace.

Azriel clearly did not have feelings for her. He was with Morrigan. She had her family still. She had her gardens. She had Nyx, and immortality, and friends. She took another steadying breath, fixing her posture, and brushing away her bangs. 

She would be graceful. 

She would be elegant. 

Hells, she would even congratulate Morrigan on her stunning good fortune to have the most wonderful male in all of Prythian by her side.

She forced out another breath and pasted on a smile. She turned, reaching for the handle and deciding to head toward her rooms, when suddenly the door opened from the other side.

Darkness and shadows speared out from the interior: cedar, mist, and wings.

Flared wings.

Azriel.

Caught between wanting to run, wanting to hide, and an unearthly sense of longing, she blinked for a moment, staring into his eyes.

And it was as if another creature had possessed her body as Elain Archeron closed the distance between them. Striding forward, and grabbing his face with her hands, she pulled him down towards her, crushing his lips with her mouth. He froze momentarily before she felt him react, his wings springing up around them, his hands suddenly in her hair, reaching around her waist, his tongue pushing into her mouth. She felt all her propriety abandon her as she began pushing her hands into his hair as well, kissing, reaching, and grabbing at his leathers. Elain felt his hands clawing at her back, pulling at the buttons on her gown.

The desire began swallowing her whole as she moaned quietly, "Azriel."

To which the kissing ceased instantaneously, Azriel stepping back from her, untangling his hands from her hair and releasing the back of her gown which had started to tear under his grip. His wings drew away, sending a cold chill around her body, causing Elain to reluctantly open her eyes, as he pried her hand from his face. From his leathers.

"Elain," Azriel's voice was rough, holding both her small hands in his, looking up toward the stars, taking another small step backward. Away from her. Creating distance. "I don't think we should..."

And she knew it was coming. Another rejection. Another declaration that this was a mistake. Even though she could sense that he wanted her, she could smell him, feel his need match hers. It was just another mistake. Like Grayson, and Solstice, and in a way, like Lucien. And she just couldn't handle it. She just couldn't take another rejection.

Suddenly she felt sick. Azriel had never promised anything to her— had never proclaimed anything to her other than that the almost-kiss was a mistake, and here she was, crying in her damn garden over a necklace and an almost kiss only to find herself throwing herself at him like she was possessed with the spirit of the most desperate female in Prythian. She felt ridiculous: to be so hungrily desperate for a male who kept telling her it wasn't right. That they were a mistake... she was pathetic.

Bile began riding up from her stomach, and she found herself unable to meet his gaze. A light-headed sensation reaching her temples, she began backing away, creating more distance between them before bumping into the outdoor dining table, breath hitching and fresh tears threatening release. Smelling him, tasting him, seeing him so close to her... his wings flared, an apologetic expression on his beautiful face... shadows swirling... it was too much. She clamped her eyes shut.

She wanted to scream... wanted to disappear... wanted to jump through time and space and eternity to avoid his apologetic expression. To avoid his sympathy.

And as soon as the thoughts began pouring in, she sensed a roaring in her mind, the table under her hand disappearing, the ground around her ankles turning to light, and she closed her eyes, allowing the magic to take her.