Azriel wasted absolutely no time, winnowing from a fall directly into Haven. Nesta's eyes fell upon him in a second. "Azriel, I'm surprised at you. Winnowing into a female's bedroom." She tsked playfully.
"I didn't want to wait at the door." He admitted with a soft smirk.
"Impatient or eager?" She inquired.
His eyes appreciatively roamed across her. "Both."
She seemed satisfied with such an answer. "Then you're in good company." She laughed, quickly finding her way into his arms. Hesitating before she could kiss him, she sighed. "It wasn't too unpleasant?"
He shrugged. "It was unpleasant enough, but I made myself clear. I am without a regret."
"Likewise." She grinned before kissing him fervently.
Her enthusiasm was entirely matched, as if neither one wanted to squander another moment in ignorance of each other; leaving them drunk on a feeling. It didn't take long for the obstacle of clothing to be abandoned as they made their way to her bed.
Something in his touch struck her; there was a tenderness reaching for her, but his motions were fueled with an enticing force, powerful magic flowing through his veins, pulsing to the sound of her ragged breaths. It was unlike any caress she'd ever known, anticipating her desires before they could even manifest in a thought. His soft, lonesome lips were agony against the hollow of her throat as her exhales continued to build.
Nesta couldn't help but treasure the textured scars of his hands as they discovered her body; introducing themselves with her thighs, becoming nimbly acquainted with the peaks of her chest, finally memorizing the furthest depths of her that he could reach.
Tentatively, Nesta sought to traverse the lines and ridges in his skin. When her hands found his chest, she smirked just in time for her lips to be reunited with his own. His heart pounded beneath her splayed fingers and she felt intoxicated by the entrancing percussion.
His body joined her own and she was overwhelmed in the seamless fit, biting his lip to keep from crying his name. He moaned against her mouth and it was the most sensuous sound she'd ever heard, bringing her a delicious pride to have been the cause. Though her hands had originally stalled at the feel of him, she was hungry for more.
Battle scars provided intricate landmarks of both his body, as well as the history of Prythian. Her voracious fingers searched out his massive ebony wings in the darkness and she could taste the catch in his breath. Testing her way along, Nesta's heartbeat picked up every time he rewarded her exploration with a deep guttural hum of approval.
Azriel wasn't sure if it had been hours or seconds; all his mind could comprehend was Nesta. The future was irrelevant, the past insignificant, but her breath, her touch, that was endless. When his wings felt her eager blessing, it seemed as though his heart might seize, until she bellowed his name against his lips.
His body fought against oblivion, greedily stealing as many moments of her tantalizing flesh as he could hope to earn. His lips found their way to her neck again and marveled at the sensation of the steady throb against his mouth. Whilst her pulse pushed back, kissing his lips, he could taste the building pressure of her body.
Nesta's breaths impatiently interrupted themselves, collapsing atop one another with growing speed as she became desperate to come undone. His torturous touch kept her dangling precariously over the edge and just when she couldn't stand it any longer, he spoke. "Come for me, Nesta."
She wasn't sure if genuine magic was the cause for the desired outcome to his command or if it was merely the feel of his husky voice gnawing at the tender skin of her neck, but Nesta willingly obeyed. Air refused to enter or exit her lungs; only shallow pointless breaths made it just beyond her lips, supplying the bare minimum of oxygen as her body quivered around him with a cry.
It was ultimately Nesta's euphoric expression in her release that caused Azriel to follow quite soon after.
"I'll have to disappear by dawn." He spoke into her shoulder with a kiss.
She looked his way, feeling the soft designs he was tracing into her midsection underneath the blanket. "For how long?"
He smirked. "No more than a few hours it would seem. Rhys has tasked us with the work of overseeing changes in the war camps."
Turning on her side, she looked at him with soft, cobalt eyes. "Can't stay far for too long?"
"From you?" He shook his head. "Why would I want to?"
"You'll be exhausted in the morning." She warned.
He offered a pensive expression. "I'm incapable of mourning sleep that is lost to your attentive company."
She grinned. "I'll have a hot cup of coffee awaiting your return."
Just before dawn, Azriel kissed Nesta's sleeping forehead and winnowed himself back to Velaris. Rhys found him the moment he entered the House of Wind and Azriel could see from the High Lord's expression that Cassian had not lost any time before relaying the news. He quickly nudged him into the library without a word.
Once inside, Rhys sternly looked at his friend. "Azriel, do you realize what you're doing?"
He nodded. "With the utmost clarity."
"What about Cassian?" He challenged.
Azriel shook his head, trying not to show the true extent of his impatience. "That questions hold no validity."
The reply baffled Rhys. "What?"
The Shadowsinger exhaled. "He had the chance to be something for her, but he kept his distance when she needed him most. He could've been her choice if only he had been there for her. If he had," Azriel paused. "We wouldn't be where we are."
"Don't you care what this is doing to him?"
Azriel's patience officially snapped as his voice raised in frustration. "Why am I the only one expected to hurt for others? Do you think Cassian ever asked himself that same question, do you think my past pain was even a fleeting thought of his? Did you see fit to step in then or only now do you change your policy to meddle into others' affairs?"
Rhys had never seen Azriel so transparently upset. "It's not the same thing."
"You're right." Azriel sighed, a warmth filling his eyes as his voice softened. "It is different. I love Nesta." Rhys's eyes widened. "I'm in love with Nesta."
"I don't understand."
"You don't have to, but you need to respect it." Rhys opened his mouth, but Azriel held his hand up to stop him and continued. "Rhys, for the first time in my life, I'm happy, not complacent or content, but actually happy and it's because of her, who she is, how she makes me feel."
Rhys was entirely at a loss for words, but he couldn't argue when he could see the truth drenching his brother's once-pained eyes. An edge suddenly filled his amber orbs. "Now think about what you're asking me to do by walking away?" Not that he would or could, but still he needed Rhys to understand the hypocrisy and cruelty of such a request. "He chose to abandon her; I won't do the same, regardless of how uncomfortable it might make anyone."
"You won't waver on this?" Despite the inflection, it was clear that he wasn't really asking a question.
"No and I won't apologize either."
Rhys nodded. "It seems there is nothing else to be said."
"I couldn't agree more." He said with a nod, stretching his wings for the impending flight before them.
The tour was unappealing for Azriel, but he took some solace from the silence afforded him by his entirely speechless companions. He didn't secure lodgings with his brothers and though the action made the quiet feel even more strained, nothing was said or done. He winnowed for Haven the moment they were dismissed that evening and found Nesta sitting at a table with Velara and Kale.
The former was beaming as she displayed a beautiful, ornately carved walking-staff the woodworker had clearly made for her. It was of bust height with an ivy engraving, a star etched at the top. Even as she sat, the thoughtful present rested against her shoulder as if in bittersweet irony of its function.
The small group brightened as the Shadowsinger entered. "Azriel," Nesta beamed tenderly while approaching him. "We were just discussing the benefits of a soft re-opening tomorrow."
He nodded and kissed her on the cheek. "Do you need any assistance in that regard?"
She shook her head. "You're already working on your own project."
He shrugged. "That doesn't mean I can't help with this one."
She waved him off. "Just let me know when you have the time to start working on that sign."
Kale opened his mouth, but Nesta interrupted his thought with one word: "Bookshelves." He nodded immediately and stayed quiet as Azriel laughed at the brief interaction.
He bowed his head slightly. "I'm entirely at your service, Miss Archeron."
Later that night, after their friends had left, Nesta wrapped her arms around Azriel and soothed something deep inside him. It was hard to believe he had lived so long without a comfort such as her embrace.
It was odd, but somehow Nesta felt that Azriel's kindness and silent consideration had comfortably aged her into her now immeasurable existence.
It was just before dawn when she had captured his hands in her own, while an exhausted, slurred thought slipped from her mouth. "How long does immortality stretch?"
His thumbs caressed the soft skin of her hands, greatly juxtaposed with the mangled scars marring his own; so different, yet undeniably similar in the strength of their unwavering hold. His eyes were drawn to her own and he thought he could drown in the reciprocated affection and there was no other way he wanted to perish. He spoke simply, a permanent smile now affixed to his eyes. "Forever."
*A/N: Thank you so much for reading this story. I hope you were able to find something to enjoy in it. In all honesty, I've regretted not posting this just because of my Nessian fics. Still, I'm curious to know what you thought. I will be posting a pre-Prequels Star Wars fic within the next week. -Nikki