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Chapter 12: you kiss mе and it stops time
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"Stop being mean to them," Oriana said, her amusement pouring all the bond, all over him.
This he loved more than he probably could say. no longer wondering what was going on in that head of hers, just immediately feeling what she was feeling.
They could shield against the bond, even her. He had never outright asked her if she had been trained against a daemati abilities, but it was obvious in the way she handel her mental shields. If she pulled them up, he could feel nothing.
But they weren't up right now. Right now it was just the two of them.
He looked up from where he had been having a staring contest with his own shadows. They took that as permission to creep back all over Oriana.
He glared at her, lounging in their bed, sheets haphazardly thrown over her body.
To say that both of them were a complete and utter mess...well, that was an understatement.
Oriana had indeed been right that the whole mating business came in waves. Once they had sated themselves in each other's bodies, they could just about manage to find a bite to eat, to nap curled together for an hour or two...and then, the need rose again to a fever pitch, making it impossible for either of them to do anything else but go back to sate themselves.
Not that he was ever going to protest about sating himself with his mate's willing and warm body. Nothing mattered as long as he could press himself into her and her body welcomed him in, wet and warm, her moans in his ear as whatever he did pleased her. The feeling of her fluttering around him, her pleasure flooding his mind and her senses...
It was all there. All there.
He had never loved anything more.
For a couple of days, his shadows had disappeared, had left him alone with Oriana, left him to find way after way to bring her to her peak, to have her drench his finger and his mouth in her slick...but today, they showed back up again, poised to crawl all over his mate.
And he didn't like it.
"I am not being mean," he gave back sharply but Oriana only raised a single brow at them. And then she was reaching out a hand towards his shadows, welcoming a tendril that wrapped itself around her wrist, higher and higher.
He tried not to frown at them happily ignoring him in favour of her.
"Don't be jealous of your own shadows, Sweetling," Oriana said, her voice soft. "I love them because they belong to you." And then to his shadows, "Welcome back. I missed you."
He could feel their pleasure at her words and his resolve melted away.
"You are the only person they ever tried to talk to, you know," he said softly, waving to them, giving them his tacit approval. The darkness seemingly heaved as more and more descended onto Oriana, tugging at her hair and the sheet that covered her, making her laugh.
"I am your mate," she responded, losing her tug of war with his shadows and he watched as they prowled all over her naked form. "They are a part of you."
"They are," he agreed. That was the only reason why he even let them crawl all over his naked mate after all. "They do listen to you," he said, still watching them, still watching Oriana playfully flap her hand at them and the shadows responded, tugging at her wrist. She was playing with them. He had seen her do that a few times, the shadows always responding.
It was ridiculous to see the shadows that had helped him torture people and gave him advice on how to inflect the most pain, turn into puppies before his mate, playing with her fingers and tugging at her hair just because.
He had never seen them do anything like that before.
Become so active, so mischievous. Just because.
"I don't command them. I ask them," she corrected him.
Mistress does, the shadows agreed.
"Why do you call her that?" Azriel asked aloud because he had always wondered where that had come from. They tended to speak to everybody with some kind of honorific. He was Master, Rhys was The High Lord, Feyre The High Lady, Cassian The General. Nesta Lady Death...Nyx was The Prince these days, while Amren got The Drake. Morrigan of couse, got The Morrigan...Lucien The Fox. Elain The Seer.
But Oriana had always been Mistress. Never anything connected to Fire. Never anything else, like His Mate.
She's yours, Master. Ours, the shadows responded. We serve at her pleasure, Master.
Oh.
Oriana shuddered at the words. He met her eyes, fire flickering brightly.
"Go on then," he said aloud, watching his mate.
She swallowed. The wave of pure arousal that poured over the bond made him shudder as well.
It was all the agreement his shadows needed as their playful grip on her solidified into something else, as they kept a grip on her that was impossible to escape.
"Alright?" he asked, carefully, watching as the shadows sprawled her out on the bed, spread out for his viewing pleasure. He was ready to call them back in a moment's response. But Oriana made no appearance of wanting that.
"Never felt safer," Oriana answered, honesty bleeding into her voice.
Not a single bit of tension in any of her muscles. She relaxed against the hold they had on her, seemingly allowing herself to sink into it like a hot bath. Not even a thought in her head about trying to fight them, to escape them.
It was everything...everything he had ever wanted and didn't even know to want it.
It was...It was everything.
She was everything.
"You are so beautiful," he breathed as he finally allowed himself to pounce on her prone form, unable to escape any of his attentions until he pulled back his shadows. Completely at his mercy.
She shuddered once more. He kissed her fiercely, her mouth immediately opening underneath his attention, her hips bucking up, until another shadow slipped between them anchoring her to the bed.
Oriana made a noise, somewhere between a laugh and a groan.
"You wanted to play with them," he pointed out reasonably, as he pressed a kiss against her forehead, then over her temple.
"I know," she sighed, relaxing again, even as he peppered kisses against her temple, her cheeks, and her nose, which she scrunched up in response, looking adorable for just a moment. She turned her head, arching her throat, giving him better access if he wanted it, but he ignored that, in favour of her jaw, the shell of her ear...
"I think they like you better than they like me," he said, only half joking, finally kissing down her neck, feeling her throat move as she swallowed.
"Well, I am nicer," she responded, slightly breathlessly, her body flexing against the bonds and his weight. He ignored that in favour of gently biting at her skin, nothing more than the suggestion of his teeth...nothing more than that. He didn't want to hurt her. He never wanted to hurt her.
"I could argue that point," he said against her skin and she snorted.
"I am not making you half crazy with desire right now," she told him pointedly and he felt it slip over the bond, her want to have him, completely and utterly.
"I am always half crazy with desire for you," he responded, kissing downward further, until he reached one full breast, heaving with her breath. Without further preamble, he sucked one rosy nipple in his mouth and she whimpered.
Her body shuddered again, a broken-off moan and he could smell the slick that would already be dripping out of her, making her body clench with desire, making her wet and ready for him.
Azriel looked up to see her, watching the shadows seemingly sink into her skin and her body relax under his ministrations, even when her desire was apparent.
She wallowed in her pleasure, in his shadows.
There were no other words for her.
Everybody else in his life flinched away from them, not understanding them. And the unknown meant fear. They respected what they and he could do but they never...
Oriana saw them as a part of him and still separated, respected them as a separate entity and also loved them simply because they belonged to Azriel.
She had never flinched from them, never done anything but accepted him like he was, accepted them.
Other people saw them as instruments of torture, as bearers of horror, and everything bad in the world...and Oriana...she saw them as harbingers of pleasure.
She twisted against their bonds and trusted them to hold her, not to bruise her, not to hurt her. She trusted them to curl around her wrist and be nothing but another bangle in her eclectic collection...she let them curl themselves around her elegant twisted updos and even sometimes, around her throat.
Her throat, where they could kill her in seconds. And she never once hesitated about it.
All of it with all the trust in the world that they would never do anything to bring harm to her.
He didn't think they ever would.
They protected her as they always had protected him.
Saw her as an extension of Azriel himself. And so when she shuddered through her first peak, the shadows watched, caressing against her skin and Azriel could even feel their faint, tacit approval.
She was theirs just as much as she was his.
And that was all he had ever wanted.
He wrung every bit of pleasure from her as he could until she was a babbling, trembling mess that begged him to fuck her, and really, he would never say no to this.
Never.
Not when that meant that he could sink himself inside her, her body fluttering around him...when the shadows let go of her in favour of enveloping them both into darkness until there was only her and him and the fire of her eyes, the mingling of their breaths, the sound of gasps and broken off moans.
Later, when the sweat had cooled down on their bodies when they had caught their breath when he could wrap himself around her, cocooned them away from the world, hold her hand in his, the shadows had disappeared again. Maybe they thought their job was done for the moment.
"I need a bath," Oriana said softly, fingers running through his hair. She wasn't the only one. He did too. And the bed needed clean sheets.
They did manage it into the bathroom, into the oversized bathtub that had been worked into the floor, and was big enough to hold at least 4 people, more if they were friendly and willing to touch each other...and then he ended up lapping up his own spend from her that still trickled out of her hole, her thighs trembling against his hands.
It was filthy and absolutely glorious.
After that little episode, they did actually manage to get clean. The bed got clean sheets. For the first time in days, Oriana put on clothing. Granted, it was nothing but a silky dressing gown, cobalt blue held in place by a single tie that he knew he could undo with one single tug...but it was something.
She sat down on the edge of her bed, her hairbrush with her and started pulling it through her hair.
It was so strangely domestic that his heart constricted.
He had never seen her do that before.
He had seen her hair in every which state, from braided away from her face and after hours in the forge when curls loosened from her tight updo she kept it in usually...one long braid down her back, and loose all around her, a perfect, pitch back curtain that fell over her back in waves, rippling like the ocean.
He had seen it all.
But he had never seen it damp, seen her brush it out, her movements gentle and thorough, doing it like she didn't even think that he was in the same room as her.
It was strangely personal.
"Can I...May I?" he asked hesitantly and she turned towards him, looking at him questioningly. "Your hair," he clarified. "May I?"
"Of course," she agreed, handing him the brush.
It was a beautiful thing, made out of gold, inlaid with stones glittering every which colour. He needed a moment until he saw her own initial worked into the back of it, the stylised O.
"Did you make that?" he asked her as he started to pull it through her hair, starting at the ends. It was surprisingly meditative. He hadn't expected that.
"Yes, I enchanted it," Oriana answered softly. "You can't use a drying charm on naturally curly hair or you end up with...very big hair. This dries my hair without any hassle," she explained.
He was quite sure that that was one of the things that she had a patent on and still made money from. Sometimes he was in awe of how Oriana saw the world around her. Seeing problems that he had never even considered and finding a solution for them. And then acting like it was nothing special, even when he knew that there was just a handful of people that could do the same as she did.
Putting her in a forge and letting her make nothing but bracelets and necklaces all day was a damn shame.
"You could do so much more," he said softly as he continued brushing her hair. "Are you...Don't you ever get bored?" he asked her, half curious, half dreading the answer.
"Bored of what?" she asked him, sounding curious.
"Of all of us normal beings that run around not being half as smart as you," he gave back, not even joking. "Of your life outside the mountain. You said you used to run experiments every day, worked on projects, invented things and enchantments...you did all of that. And nowadays you make earrings to sell."
"I like making earrings to sell," her voice had taken a warning tone that he had only heard her take with him once. "Just because it's less difficult does not make it less worthwhile. And no, I do not tend to think of you as stupid."
His hands froze at that as she continued. "I liked my job in the mountains. But the freedom I have nowadays...that's worth more to me. I was thinking of maybe taking on the work of a few other goldsmiths to sell in the shop," she admitted, her voice turning thoughtfully. "I have less work to sell these days with all the freelance work I take on." Translation: All the things that she fixed for him that she never wanted money for. "I like the freelance work I do these days much more," she quipped.
He went back to brushing her hair, mulling over her words.
"And you aren't thinking of going back into the mountain?" he finally asked her, hesitantly. It was there, in the back of her mind, of what to do if Oriana decided that the mountain was where she felt most like herself. She clearly had enjoyed her stay there the last time she had gone, even with all the necklace business happening. She loved her family, she wrote them letters every week...
"You would hate it there. No room to fly whatsoever," Oriana quipped. Then she sighed. "No, Azriel. I'll go there to visit my family. Nothing more, nothing less. I am quite happy here in Velaris. With you."
"I'll never understand why," he whispered softly.
"Because I love you. And I'll spend the rest of our lives telling you that you deserve it."
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The waves of desire seemed to have settled down enough that they didn't end up ripping each other's clothing away again.
Which was a good thing, because she wasn't quite sure how much more sex her body could stand before pleasant soreness was going to turn unpleasant or even painful. And so, that evening, they got to lounge around in their bed, between fresh meats, a board of cheese and cured meat between them.
Neither had been in the mood to cook and this was definitely easier. it also didn't need to be warmed up so if they once again had...one of their...trysts, they could go right back at it.
And she was ravenous.
"I made you something," she finally told Azriel, between bites of cheese that were being traded between them, gentle fingers offering one morsel or another to her lips. She took them all, unable to turn him away.
"You made me something?" he asked her, sounding curious.
Oriana nodded. "I did..Tartera...they mark all the important events in their life with jewellery," she explained. There were pieces that she wore every day, the bracelet her father had given her for her coming-of-age ceremony, a pair of earrings her mother had passed down to her...other pieces were stashed away in her jewellery box, pulled out for special occasions. Other pieces she had made herself just because she found them beautiful. But still, often she came back to the jewellery that told the story of her life. "The birth of a child, a coming of age ceremony...a courtship, a marriage...a mating. I never gave you any. So I figured I should rectify that," she said with a grin.
She could see the expression on his face something close to horror, before it smoothed over. Clearly, he tried not to hurt her feelings, but the idea of wearing a gem-encrusted necklace was there in her mind. She tried not to laugh at the mental image, of Azriel draped in rubies and sapphires and diamonds and emeralds. He would look beautiful in it, of course, he would, but he would be incredibly uncomfortable with it. And that made her not even entertain the thought for much longer.
"Have a little trust in me, Sweetling. You didn't seem like the type for diamonds," she quipped as she rolled over to her bedside table to pull what she had made from the drawer.
"I...I should have bought you something," Azriel said suddenly. She freed the box, hesitating for a moment.
"You don't need to give me something. It's the tradition of my people, not of yours," she corrected him softly. It wasn't like she wouldn't wear whatever he wanted her to wear, but she was also the first one to admit that the work of most goldsmiths that weren't Tartera by nature was shoddy at best to her eyes. Of course she would still wear it if Azriel gave it to her, but...
"You said that you would respect me and my people as much as you respect yourself," Azriel said quietly. "When you met my mother."
"I did," she agreed.
"Then the same should also go for me," Azriel said, his resolve tightening. "If it's a tradition that is important to you...You need to tell me so that we can both respect it."
She couldn't help but reach out for him, and press another kiss against his lips. "Only if you do the same," she bargained. "You know...you know what I really want? Instead of another wedding necklace? Or a bracelet or a ring that you buy somewhere?" she asked and he shook his head. "I want one of your shadows. With me, like they always were. A piece of you."
She could feel the whisper-soft touch of one of them showing up again, could feel Azriel giving a wordless command to the tendril and then felt it wrap itself around her throat.
"You'll have that," he promised her, hazel eyes earnest. "As long as I am alive, you'll have that," he promised her.
She kissed him again, her tongue pressing in his mouth, hands twining behind his neck. "But I still want to see you in blue gems," Azriel said softly.
She laughed, a grin overcoming her face. She could do that. She definitely could do that.
"I bought some when I went home. Blue Opals. Opals are the stone of my family," she explained. "Still, back to your present."
She freed the bracelet from the box she had put it in and then offered it to him with a flat hand.
"It's a bracelet?" he asked her, picking it up to look at it. It was deceptively simple. A black band. covered in a pattern that one would only see if you really looked for it. For everybody else, it was nothing but a black band.
"I didn't think you would like a necklace and rings would interfere with weapons...so a bracelet," she explained. She had thought about it for a long time. "Do you like it?" she asked him, biting back the amusement that wanted to overcome her.
She was giddy with excitement.
"It's...pretty?" Azriel offered. "You made it, so of course, it's beautiful," he assured her.
"You didn't actually think that I was going to give you a bracelet that can't do anything, did you?" Oriana said with a grin. "It's enchanted."
Azriel's eyes widened at that.
"What can it do?" he wondered.
"Stand up," she told him, sitting up properly, and taking the bracelet from him. He listened and held out his right arm for her. She tightened the bracelet on it. "Just...don't freak out. It's not going to hurt you, I swear," she warned him, as she pushed with her magic.
It reacted immediately. Just like she had planned it would. Just like she had tested.
It covered him with Adamantium from shin to throat, from wrist to wrist, the bracelet incorporated in the armour that grew over him like a second skin.
Covering him in black dragon scales, made out of Adamantium. Forged in the fire of the Eternal Flame.
She had spent weeks working on it and had tried and tested multiple different versions until she had settled on this one. And now she finally got to see it on the intended recipient.
"Oriana," Azriel said, his voice hoarse, staring at his forearms covered in the matte black metal.
"I know you said you can't wear proper armour because of your wings," she explained hurriedly. "So I made you proper armour that will work with your wings. It's Adamantium. It's thin enough to be flexible, to be light enough for you to wear. It will stretch and contract with every one of your movements," she explained and his wings stretched in response to her comment, his muscles shifting underneath the armour she had made for him.
"It looks like dragon scales," Azriel said, his voice hoarse, still staring at his covered arms.
"That was my inspiration," Oriana admitted. From a Folk's Tale of all things. "There are protective enchantments on it," she continued. "My magic powered them. So if anybody will try to stab you...they'll find themselves with a molten sword in their hand," she said with some amusement. "Anything but a mythical weapon won't be able to have any impact on it, I think. I didn't test it, beyond destroying a few forged weapons though," she admitted. "But all 5 of my swords melted away into nothing."
Another person who wasn't her probably would have lost their hand as well.
She had spent weeks working on it. Every scrap of time that she had. Once she had gotten it right to work on a small scale, she had just needed to get it to work on a bigger one. Crafting the full amour...that had taken the longest time, especially as she had needed to be so very careful with it. She had bathed it in the piece of the Eternal Flame it had given her as a final step.
And once she had done it, once she had broken open the sphere and let the fire have at her work...she could swear she had felt its approval.
Love him, cherish him, protect him. The traditional Tartera wedding vows.
Made into an object by her.
She never would feel comfortable forging weapons. Not anything more than a few simple daggers, a pair of hairpins with stiletto blades hidden within.
But protection? Protection for her mate?
Oriana would gladly forge that every day of her life. She would work on it and perfect it until nothing could happen to Azirel on her watch because she loved him. Because he was hers and she was his and she wanted him to live a long, long life with her.
She was selfish enough that she wanted to be surrounded by his love for her, bathe in the feeling of adoration that overcame him anytime he talked to her.
She wanted that.
And if her skillset, if her mind that had been trained from such a young age to make things and perfect them...if all of that could help her...well, then she would do that with every fibre of her heart.
And Azriel looked at her and she could see the love in these hazel eyes that seemingly glowed golden that evening in their bedroom as he stared at her, as she could feel the bond thrumming between them overwhelmed with feelings.
"How?" he finally asked her. "Oriana, how?" he wanted to know.
She didn't know how she had done it.
She knew that there would never be anything else she would forge quite on that level again. She would never be able to replicate the protection she had woven into every inch of that amour. For him. For Azriel. For her mate.
"Let's call it a labour of love, Azriel," she said softly. "A labour of love I won't ever be able to replicate."
Not because of the amount of time she put into it. Not even because of the Eternal Flame that she had forged this into...but because she had made it for him.
For this male. For the one that she loved more than she had ever loved anything and anybody else.
Who looked at her and saw her, without thinking about her family or her heritage, her past or anything else. He saw her. He loved her.
He accepted her with all her failings and all her bad habits and he still loved her.
And that...that was a gift so precious that Oriana didn't have the words for it.
"I love you. I cherish you. I protect you," she repeated once again. "With everything I was, I am and I will be."
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And with that, Something good and right and real comes to an end. But I promise you, it won't be the last story in this universe.
Next up: Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours
5 Times Cassian thought that Azriel had feelings for somebody and then the 1 time he finally met the girl his brother was in love with.
Also, if there is a specific scene/prompt you have for Azriel and Oriana or in this universe, TELL ME! I can always use more plot bunnies.