A.N. I had a dream the other day where Azriel was with someone else and that was when I knew that I shipped Elriel more than Elucien. I'll see you all in hell.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything SJM has written.


In the Dark

Feyre watched them through the kitchen window. She liked to see Elain happy, liked to know she was recovering, and she liked to see Elain outside, tending the flowers and laughing at whatever Azriel said.

Feyre liked to watch them together.

And when she saw Elain stumble over the limbs she was still getting used to, or trip over a tool she was using or a crack in the ground, Feyre would watch Azriel catch her arm to steady her, Elain blushing as she leaned against the shadowslinger's body for balance.

Feyre would watch Elain look up and smile at him, uttering her apologies and gratitude, watch as Azriel's hand lingered on Elain's arm as she moved to pull away, watch as Azriel nodded, returning his hand to his side.


Rhys stumbled upon Elain and Azriel in the kitchen. Elain was baking with Nuala and Cerridwen, and Azriel was sitting at the table, smiling faintly at Elain's reassurances that he would have his bread soon, they just had to clean up their mess and start again, just one moment, we'll start over, it's okay. Elain laughed, and the shadows writhing around Azriel flickered for a moment, almost as if they were going to disappear—

—but they returned, and Rhys lingered in the doorway, watching Elain make the twins smile, waiting for Azriel to smile again, but he never did.


Amren found them walking around Velaris looking for somewhere to eat lunch. She heard Elain telling Azriel about the places—though limited—she used to eat at in her human village, and Azriel tensed, as if fearing Elain would fall back into her sadness and despair, but though her eyes shaded, she continued talking about her old village.

A few steps behind but not hiding her presence, Amren followed the pair and continued to study their interactions. Amren watched as Elain pointed at restaurants and asked if they had good food, as Azriel nodded or shook his head, offering few words. Amren watched as another couple walking down the street almost ran into them, watched as Elain moved out of their way, closer to Azriel, as Azriel glanced down at Elain before shifting his arm out of the way so she wouldn't be flush against him—

—watched as Elain, still apologizing to the couple that ran into them, leaned closer to Azriel, until their arms touched, until she looked over at him and smiled, linking their arms, and said that they should eat whatever smelled so good, what is that? Is it meat? It smells heavenly.

Amren scrutinized the black shadows hovering around Azriel, watched them move as if to touch Elain's shoulder, watched them move away.


Nesta saw them in the library. She did not like the shadowslinger so close to her sister, but she hesitated in interrupting them at the sound of Elain's laugh.

Hidden between the shelves, Nesta glanced at the pair and saw them sitting side-by-side, Elain still giggling at whatever Azriel just said, reprimanding him for lying to her, that's not what that says, I know it, are you sure you can read this language or did you just say that to impress me?

Azriel bowed his head in apology, saying he must have interpreted something wrong, and Elain, beaming, told him to continue. Nesta watched as Elain sat back in her chair and listened to whatever the Illyrian was reading to her, and when Elain's eyes started to close and her head started to list to the side, Azriel's voice quieted, softened, disappeared, and he lowered the book to his lap and stared at Elain for a moment, another, before he sat the book on the table and made to stand up.

Nesta watched as Elain's hand shot out, resting on top of his scarred hand. Elain didn't say anything, and after a minute, Azriel sat back down. She didn't move her hand, just shifted until she held Azriel's palm against her own, and then she closed her eyes again and Azriel didn't move, didn't breathe, didn't look at her again until she stirred a half hour later, asking if he was tired.

Nesta watched as the shadowslinger remained silent, tried to tug his hand away, watched as Elain brought his hand to her lips and dropped a soft kiss on the back of his scars, saying it was okay, it's okay, it's okay, and Azriel just disappeared, just left, and Elain was alone, her hand poised close to her mouth, holding the air.


Cassian discovered them on the roof of the townhouse on a warm spring day. They both lazed under the sun, Elain reading a book and Azriel staring out at the city, his wings sprawled and soaking in the sun. Just as Cassian was about to join them, he watched as Azriel turned from viewing Velaris and instead stared at Elain. A shift in position had Elain squinting through the sun's rays now piercing her face, and Cassian watched as Azriel lifted a wing and encased Elain in shadows so she could read undisturbed.

Elain looked up at the wing, up at Azriel, back at the wing, back at Azriel. Cassian watched as Elain closed her book and told Azriel he didn't have to do that, I like feeling the sun on my face, it's okay, are you just going to hold it there the whole time while I read?

Azriel didn't reply and Elain faced his wing again, and Cassian watched as she brought up a tentative hand and ran a finger along the wing in front of her face.

Cassian watched as Azriel closed his eyes.

Elain glanced up at the Illyrian before returning her attention to his wing, where she continued to gently trace lines and he continued to keep still, his eyes closed, barely breathing.

Eventually, Elain lowered her hand, and Cassian thought her expression looked sad. Tired. She shifted, not even looking at Azriel, until her head rested on his upper thigh, her body curled into a ball beside him. Cassian heard her sigh, heard Azriel stop breathing, and watched as Elain fell asleep, and Azriel waited until her breathing evened out before he gently dropped his wing, before he raised an unsteady hand and hovered it above Elain's head, a few strands of her golden brown hair spilling into his lap.

Another minute and Azriel finally placed his palm on Elain's head, his shadows curling. He lightly rested his hand there for a moment, and then Cassian watched as his brother stroked Elain's hair, soft and slow, soft and sweet, fingers weaving through the strands, until she woke up, sun shining on her face.


Mor noticed them alone together in the living room of the townhouse. She meant to leave so Azriel would not have to worry about her while he was with Elain, but Mor heard the word "kiss" and decided to linger.

From her vantage point, Mor could see their reflection through the window of the living room, the night sky making the glass almost as reflective as a mirror. Mor listened while Elain described some trivial tradition in the human realm where people caught under a certain type of plant must kiss. She heard Azriel snort—and Elain must have heard it, too, because she defended the tradition, saying she thought it was lovely to be kissed for no reason, don't you have something like that here, too? Mor watched Azriel shake his head, a smile on his lips.

Mor thought Elain would have fought for her point more, but instead Elain just returned Azriel's smile and made as if she was going to sit down, and Azriel mirrored her, and as he bent to sit on the couch, Elain lurched forward and planted a kiss on his cheek, giggling when he straightened with a flush on his cheeks.

She laughed harder when he scowled at her, and Mor watched as he took a step forward, watched as Elain stopped laughing, stopped smiling, stopped breathing—

—watched as Azriel put a hand under her chin and tilted her head, up and to the side, and he leaned in close to her ear—Mor held her breath—and placed a soft kiss on Elain's cheek, close to her ear. And then another, closer to her jaw, where he lingered for two seconds before he dropped his hand and took a step back, and another, and then he winnowed away, and Mor watched as Elain put a hand to her chest and uttered a breathless oh, and Mor could do nothing but agree.