A Realization (Elriel Fluff)
Written for this prompt from @tinylittlebluebird: ‘Azriel slowly starting to realise how he feels about Elaine but does not know how to approach her if at all.’
It took Azriel far too long to realize what was going on. He’d always thought that love happened fast – that when you fell, you fell hard and in an instant. After all, when Mor had come into his life, it had been a like a lightening strike in his chest. Mor, who’d been beautiful and confident and free even as a young woman trapped by her family. Mor, who’d teased him and danced with him and saw him as something other than a monster.
Cauldron, he’d loved her so fast. She’d been the first female to give him the light of day. And he’d hoped, for so long, that whatever it was between would extend past friendship.
A beautiful dream, really. But an impossible one, he would later realize. In the end, this friendship between him and Mor was more than enough. He still loved her, of course. (How could he not? Mor was entirely unique and a genuinely good person, through and through.) But he was no longer in love with her – he’d had to let that part of himself go until it became nothing more than another facet of their complicated but treasured history.
Considering this, it was no surprise that he had trouble recognizing the feeling that had so slowly built in his chest. It was just so dissimilar from what he thought he knew of love. Because when Azriel was around Elain, it wasn’t like lightning under his skin… no, it was a softer, gentler thing, though by no means any less potent. It felt like flying on a clear day, when he knew his wings would carry him true but the thrill of the fall was never far away.
Elain hadn’t sprung on him suddenly; his feelings for her hadn’t hit him in an instant. Instead, they had grown without him realizing – grown in the presence of her sweet smiles, in the fierce spirit that many didn’t see, in the strength with which she fought against her more violent visions. They grew with every passing day, with every happy look she sent his way, with every time she sought his company above all others. And Azriel hadn’t had a word to describe why that pleased him so.
It was love, of course. That had been the word he’d been looking for this entire time. Love.
(He was in love, truly in love – Azriel could hardly fathom it.)
Still, now that he knew what this feeling was, this ache deep in his chest… now that he understood the true depth of his love for Elain, he had no idea how to act around her. He clearly wasn’t as observant as he liked to think, considering that in five centuries at Mor’s side he hadn’t seen where her desires lie. What if Elain didn’t feel the same? What if she wasn’t interested in anything other than his friendship? His quiet companionship?
She was a woman who had just given up a mating bond, after all. And if Lucien Vanserra wasn’t worthy of her, how could he claim to be any better? He didn’t have a Cauldron-given connection to Elain.
But still, that feeling persisted. And sometimes, just sometimes, he saw something in the way Elain looked at him… and he thought that maybe this look was a mirror of his own. But how could he be sure? After Mor? After his long and lonely history?
He didn't… he didn’t want to risk loosing Elain. Perhaps it was best to simply remain friends. She didn’t need him pushing his affections on her unwarranted. Certainly not after that bastard of a fiancé had so cruelly turned her away. Nor after she and Lucien had tried so earnestly to accept their bond, only for it to end in disappointment.
So he tried his best to act normally around her, as he had always done. But this new awareness he had of her, of his feelings for her, made it nigh on impossible. (Which, really, was just ridiculous – he was the spymaster, his entire life revolved around being able to charm others, to lie through his teeth so he could get the information he needed. Why should this be any different? Why couldn’t he pretend now?)
(Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous… But, Cauldron, Azriel wouldn’t change it for the world.)
He shouldn’t be freezing up every time she put a gentle hand on his arm, her brown eyes all lit with excitement as she explained a new discovery to him. He shouldn’t be hesitating at the entrance to the garden whenever he saw she was already there, kneeling amidst the grass without a care. He shouldn’t be avoiding her when he knew she was looking for him… He shouldn’t be hesitating to pick her up and carry her to her bedroom after a particularly bad vision, the kind that made her collapse in exhaustion.
These were all things he’d done before, before the realization that had blind-sided him so completely he couldn’t even look at Elain without that awareness filling his very blood.
And now, walking around Velaris, he definitely shouldn’t have locked up completely when Elain hooked her arm through his. It was an innocent gesture, one she’d done dozens of times before – whenever they explored the city together, really. (Elain had started this tradition with him back in the early days, when they’d all still been healing from the events of Hybern. She’d wanted some time away from the house and away from her well-meaning but oftentimes overbearing sisters. What better way to do that than explore the City of Starlight with a new friend? Cauldron, Azriel had enjoyed those days… had enjoyed showing Elain the wonders of his home, making her smile with delight, the fog of her gaze momentarily lifting…)
(In hindsight, perhaps his feelings had been obvious for a while.)
Elain froze beside him, almost in tandem with him. She glanced up at him worriedly, her brow scrunched slightly. Azriel was all too tempted thumb that concerned crease away, to trail his fingers from the side of her brow bone to the delicate point of her chin.
“Are you all right, Azriel?” she asked him, big eyes still focused on him. He liked how she said his name – always Azriel, never Az or another nickname. His full name had always reminded him of the dark dungeon he had spent so much of his childhood in, of his brothers’ mocking voices as they set his hands ablaze. (‘Little Azriel is crying, but what else could we expect from a pathetic half-blood bastard?’) But Elain brought something good to his name, said it with such tenderness. From her, his name felt like a blessing, not a curse.
“Fine,” he replied eventually, not-at-all convincing. “I’m fine.”
She bit her lip nervously. “Are you sure? You’ve been acting strange of late. Is it– Have I done something to offend you?”
“No. No, you haven’t.” Azriel replied vehemently, though Elain remained doubtful. He touched the hand she still had on his arm and tried to be lighthearted. “You are completely innocent of any supposed crime; that I can promise.”
She nodded, turning her hand over so she could tangle their fingers together. (A friendly gesture, Azriel had to remind his racing heart.) “Good. I was worried. I had thought–”
Azriel frowned at the abrupt stop. He gentled his voice. “Thought what?”
She gazed stubbornly at their hands, suddenly shy. Azriel stilled completely under her soft touch and waited; he had the odd feeling that whatever she would say now might change the course of their relationship forever. In his silence, he watched her closely. There was color high on her cheeks, her hair coming loose from where she had it gathered at the back of her neck. She kept her eyes away from him, lifting her free hand so she could hold his in between the both of hers. Elain smiled a little as he let her play with his fingers, though it was tempered by something anxious in her demeanor. Azriel was tempted to speak, to sooth away the nervous line of her brow, but felt that his speaking might make her retreat.
Still, his own nerves weren’t helped by the waiting. He could sneak into enemy territory without fear, could fight his way through the most of dangerous of battles without hesitation… but this? This connection? Putting his heart on the line? These were things he never truly understood how to do. Even after five hundred years of life, he didn’t really understand how to approach someone for something more than the simple pleasures of the flesh.
So, Azriel held his tongue and hoped and hoped and hoped.
Finally, she spoke. “I thought… I thought that maybe I was too forward. That you didn’t want me like I… like I want you.”
Azriel blinked in surprise. All attempts at calming his heart became futile, for it stuttered in his chest before racing faster than ever.
And then a smile bloomed on his face, unstoppable. Too forward? Want me like I want you? You are everything I want, Azrel thought in disbelief. But he didn’t say that. Not yet. Instead his grin widened as he slowly cupped Elain’s cheek with his free hand, tilting her head up until their eyes met. Suddenly, he knew exactly what to do, his free-falling heart guiding him true.
“I think the day that anyone thought you to be too forward, Elain Archeron, we would all die of shock,” Azriel said lightly, an almost imperceptible mischievousness in his voice.
“No, I– Wait. Are you teasing me?”
There’s that sparkle of delight I’ve been waiting for, he thought as he stared into her bright eyes. All hints of shyness had disappeared with his bad attempt at humor, her own lips pulling into that lovely, lovely smile of hers. She lifted a hand to cover the one he still had resting on her cheek.
“Only because you’ve made me an incredibly happy male,” he told her then, with raw honesty, uncaring that they were in the middle of the street, that anyone could see them. “How could I not want you, Elain? You are– You are everything.”
He couldn’t find the right words… but it didn’t seem to matter, as Elain’s smile became watery, overcome with emotion. And words seemed to fail her as well for a moment, her breathing faltering for the briefest second even as her eyes shined with a thousand different feelings that Azriel wanted to spend a lifetime deciphering.
She squeezed his hand tight and then rose to the tips of her toes, ever so slowly bracing herself against his body. “Azriel,” she whispered, barely audible, before slanting her lips over his.
And Azriel? He grinned wildly into her kiss, into Elain’s kiss. The free-fall feeling was back, the ache in his chest doubling, but for the moment he was unafraid. Because he wanted this. And he loved her… he loved her. So he tugged her against him, crushing them together and deepened their kiss, chasing her tongue with his.
When they finally pulled away from each other, Azriel couldn’t help but let out a chuckle even as his cheeks warmed slightly.
“What? Why are you laughing?” Elain asked curiously, a fond smile tugging at her kiss-bruised lips.
He tilted his head at all the people around them in the street, at the way they were all purposefully not looking at the two of them. “While I fully support where this was going, I think perhaps it might be prudent to wait a while. I don’t think the citizens of Velaris would appreciate the view.”
Elain’s cheeks soon matched his own, becoming a lovely rose color in her embarrassment. She hid her face in the soft fabric of his shirt, looping her arms around his waist. And yet her body shook lightly as she laughed at the revelation that they were still very much in public.
Mother above, I love her, Azriel couldn’t help but think.
Perhaps he should have told her then, said those three little words. But Azriel decided instead to wait. Although it had taken them a long time to get here, this was still new – fragile and precious even. And he wanted to learn her, to know her like he had known no other before. And he hoped she wanted to do the same with him.
Besides, Azriel was patient… and they had nothing but time.
Eventually, he spoke. “What do you say we finish what we came out here to do? There was that restaurant I wanted to show you.”
Elain lifted her head. “I like the sound of that,” she told him quietly.
Azriel couldn’t resist pressing a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth before he pulled away. Soon they were walking down the street again. Only this time Elain’s hand wasn’t placed in the crook of his elbow. This time, she kept her hand firmly in his.
