Azriel woke the instant his shadows alerted him to the presence of somebody in the hallway outside his bedroom. He was on high alert; no one ever disturbed him in his own room at the river house, nor had he been to anyone else's except Rhys and Feyre's. He relaxed, however, as he caught scent of the person inching his door open, and allowed a small smile to curl at his lips as light footsteps crossed the floor. When the mattress dipped beside him he pounced, rolling so that the intruder was pinned below him and he was looking into the startled gray eyes of his High Lady.
"Good morning, Feyre," he purred, propping himself up on one elbow. "You're up early."
Having gotten over her initial shock, Feyre pouted up at him. "I was going to wake you up nicely" - she emphasized the word with a roll of her hips against his - "and this is the thanks I get?" She looked so put out that Azriel chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.
"I told you you wouldn't be able to sneak up on him," came Rhys's voice from the doorway. "You'd probably have to winnow directly on top of him in order to do that." Azriel looked over his shoulder to find the High Lord wearing his usual smirk as he added mentally, "Do I get a good morning kiss too?"
"Maybe if you planned a nice wake up surprise, you would," Azriel thought back, and Rhys's eyes twinkled with a mixture of mirth and desire. "To what do I owe the honor of this early morning visit from my High Lord and Lady?" he asked, turning his attention back to the female beneath him.
Feyre flashed a grin at his sarcasm before her expression became apologetic. "Actually," she began, "we come bearing bad news. Which is why," she continued, running a finger down Azriel's bare chest to the waistband of his sleep pants, "I thought you might want to start the day with something fun."
Azriel's heart dropped to his toes as his shadows swirled anxiously. His mind raced; what could the bad news be? He had just heard from both Cassian and Mor and they were fine, and his spies across Prythian told him that things were relatively peaceful within and among the other courts, so -
"Since I know you're currently spiraling," Rhys interrupted his train of thought, "don't worry, everyone is fine." Azriel's shadows froze, even as his body relaxed a fraction and breathing seemed to come easier. "We have to pay a visit to the Court of Nightmares today."
"We knew you'd insist on coming," Feyre said as she cupped his face with her hands.
"When?" he asked, already running through mental lists of all of his spies, their locations, and which ones he could potentially meet.
"We need to leave in an hour," Rhys replied, and Azriel nodded, still holding Feyre's gaze.
"Is that enough time to do whatever it is you had planned, Feyre?" he asked, shifting against her so she could feel the hardness straining at his pants.
She huffed. "Well it was," she began with mock irritation, "but then you ruined it by already being awake, so I guess we'd better just get ready to go."
She tried to push him aside, but he tightened his grip and lowered his face to hers. "Wouldn't you at least tell me what you were going to do?" he wheedled, nibbling on her earlobe.
"You're the Spymaster," she replied with a grin, pushing at him again. This time he relented, allowing her to roll off the bed to stand. "I'm sure you can figure it out." With a wink, she swept past Rhys out the door.
Azriel watched her go, laughing ruefully as he ran a hand through his hair. Rhys remained in his doorway, watching as he swung his legs off the edge of the bed and reached for the Siphons sitting on his bedside table. "Aren't you going to need the full hour to primp?" he asked as he stood, intending to head to his closet to get dressed.
"Oh, undoubtedly," Rhys replied good-naturedly as he crossed the few feet between them. Azriel raised a questioning eyebrow, but Rhys ignored it as he grabbed the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss, running his tongue over Azriel's bottom lip before releasing him. "I just had to do that first."
With a wicked grin, Rhys vanished, winnowing away presumably to prepare for their departure. Azriel felt his presence in his mind, though, and opened a small hole in his shields. "I'm sure there will be time after the Court of Nightmares for whatever it is she wanted to do," Rhys promised, and Azriel felt a shiver down his spine as his desire stirred once again.
Azriel was dressed and ready to go within five minutes, so he headed down to the kitchen to search for Nuala and Cerridwen. In addition to getting some breakfast, he wanted to check in with the half-wraiths to see what they had heard from their own sources within the Hewn City. He was greeted with a large plate of eggs and toast, but not much news as he sat down to eat.
"Keir is as terrible as ever," said Nuala, "but we haven't heard of anything out of the ordinary from our sources."
"Would you like us to come with you?" asked Cerridwen, and Azriel seriously considered the offer before shaking his head. He knew that the 49 years Under the Mountain had been difficult for them as well, and was in no hurry to send them into the depravity of the Court of Nightmares without good cause.
"That won't be necessary," he said, and he could have sworn a flicker of relief passed across their faces. He finished eating quickly and returned to his room, still having plenty of time to read Mor's most recent reports on the Court of Nightmares. He had just finished the one from the month prior to her departure to the continent when he felt a tapping in his mind, signaling that Rhys and Feyre were ready to depart.
Azriel made his way down to the foyer, trying not to gawk openly at his lovers as he took them in. Rhys, as always, was dressed head to toe in blackest black, a crown of stars on his brow. Feyre's dress was very similar to the one she had worn on her first visit to the Hewn City, cut low in the front with large swaths of the creamy skin of her thighs exposed. A silver diadem perched on her head, the feminine twin to her mate's, and Azriel felt a familiar surge of self-consciousness as he smoothed down the front of his own leather armor.
The mischievous grin Feyre gave him was blinding as she caught sight of him, and he allowed a shadow to twirl around her waist affectionately as he gave her a small smile in return. "Ready?" she asked, reaching out a hand which he enveloped in his own. He felt Rhys grab his other hand as he nodded, and the three of them disappeared from Velaris to land moments later in the moonstone palace atop the Hewn City.
Azriel did a quick sweep of the balcony where they had landed, venturing into the hallway beyond, before he motioned that all was well to Feyre and Rhys. "I expect we'll need a couple of hours to deal with whatever it is that Keir wants," Rhys said, and Azriel nodded as he began planning out all the places within the city he would visit in that time.
"Just give me a warning when you're almost done," he replied, and Rhys gave him a firm nod in response.
"Since Mor isn't here, will you announce us?"
Azriel's wings rustled nervously as he nodded, sliding into the icy place within him where he always retreated when he came to this Court. He felt his features harden into a brutal mask as Rhys and Feyre did the same. He led the way down the mountain toward the throne room, slipping farther and farther into the character he had to play as his High Lord and Lady fell back to give him enough time to properly warn the courtiers of their arrival.
His lip curled with distaste as he strode into the vast chamber, his shadows swirling ominously around his person. None dared make eye contact with him as he approached the dais where two thrones now sat, his Siphons flaring any time anyone even looked in his direction. When he reached the dais he turned back toward the door, where he could already see tendrils of darkness curling. "Your High Lord and High Lady approach," he announced in a cold, carrying voice, before dropping into a kneel, followed by the rest of the court.
Less than a minute later, he felt Rhys and Feyre enter the room, raising his eyes from the floor to monitor the crowd as their rulers swept past. All were too cowardly, of course, to attempt any sort of attack, but his hand hovered within reach of Truth-Teller as he kept watch. His eyes met Feyre's briefly, and a heartbeat later he heard her voice through the crack he kept open in his mental shield.
"Have I ever told you how much I like having a male on his knees for me?" she asked, and it took all five centuries of his training for Azriel to keep his blank expression in place as he was shocked out of his usual Court of Nightmares persona. He shot his attention back to her, noticing a miniscule curl of her lips and twinkle in her eye. Well. Two could certainly play this game.
"Any male, My Lady, or just some in particular?" he replied, even as he fought to keep his body's reaction to her words in check.
"I'm sure, if pressed, I could pick a favorite or two," she responded, the fabric of her gown brushing lightly against his wing as she and Rhys strode past him to their thrones. He repressed a shudder, returning his attention to the room, even as he began to plot. That was two times today she had teased him, and he vowed to himself there wouldn't be a third.
Azriel rose to his feet with the rest of the Court, shooting a quick glance at the High Lord and High Lady as Keir approached them before wrapping his shadows around himself and disappearing. He began his usual rounds of the room, blanketed in shadows, to listen to the courtiers discuss the latest gossip, which seemed to be some small scandal about a lord's son being found in bed with his mother-in-law. He spent the better part of half an hour roaming the room unseen, but the only other exciting information he picked up was that there were a surprising number of both males and females who were scheming up ways to be invited to the High Lord and Lady's bed.
With a small, self-satisfied smirk, Azriel left to wander the city, sending his shadows off to locate his various informants as he himself headed for the dungeons. A few centuries ago Keir had developed an unfortunate habit of imprisoning anyone who so much as disagreed with him, and the Spymaster still liked to check that he hadn't fallen back into his old ways. Luckily for the Steward, the Dungeon Master informed Azriel that all had been quiet in recent months, with the only new additions admitted for actual crimes.
Having finished this task and not yet hearing from Rhys and Feyre, Azriel headed to his usual meeting spot with his informants: a dark alley behind a butcher's shop. The blood and viscera masked their scents better than any magic could, and discrete monthly payments to the butcher ensured his silence. One of his informants was already waiting when he arrived. She had been a maid in Keir's household since Mor was young, and so devoted to the young female that it had been easy to convince her to pass along information. She too had nothing of note to report; Azriel assumed that Keir was keeping everyone on their best behavior (relatively speaking) since another scheduled trip to Velaris was coming up and he didn't want to jeopardize it.
He dismissed the maid and waited another quarter of an hour, but none of his other informants arrived before Rhys reached out mind-to-mind. "We're just wrapping up here," came his voice. "Meet us up in the palace?"
"Actually," Azriel replied, "can you both stay in the throne room and kick everyone out?"
Rhys's curiosity was evident in his response. "Of course we can. Why, though?" Azriel smirked as he replayed Feyre's earlier words from their entrance to the chamber for Rhys, then showed him exactly what he had planned. "In that case," said Rhys, a smile in his voice, "I'll have everyone out of here in five minutes."
Azriel gave him a mental salute as he pulled his shadows around himself and began his walk back through the city. He kept to dark areas, making him virtually invisible to passers-by, shedding the mental trappings of the Spymaster of the Night Court with each step and becoming merely Azriel once again. By the time he reached the throne room ten minutes later, he felt like the male who had been sharing Rhys and Feyre's bed for the last several months rather than one of their many monstrous subjects. His shadows assured him that the hall was indeed empty of everyone except the High Lord and Lady, so he pushed open the doors and strode in.
Feyre and Rhys lounged on their thrones as he approached the dais, his footsteps echoing through the now-empty chamber. They, too, had shed their Court of Nightmares personas, and gazed at him with warmth as he neared. "Ready to go home, Az?" Feyre called, and Azriel schooled his features into a serious expression.
"Not quite, Feyre," he replied. "Unfortunately, there's still another piece of information I need to acquire before we leave."
"And what would that be?" she asked as he arrived at the dais, climbing up it to drop to his knees in front of her.
"I seem to recall," he began, leaning in to brush his lips across her throat as he spoke, "that a certain High Lady challenged a certain Spymaster to find out what she had planned for him this morning." He was delighted to hear her pulse quicken, her chest heaving as the scent of her desire hit him.
"Is that so?" she asked breathily as he trailed a hand slowly up her leg. "And how, exactly, do you plan to get that information?"
Azriel gave her a wicked grin as he sent two of his shadows to twine around her wrists, binding them to the arms of her throne. He pulled her legs apart, shuffling forward to keep her from closing them as he brought his hand under the barely-there fabric of her skirt to the apex of her thighs. "I've found that interrogation is usually the most effective tactic," he said, circling a finger around her entrance before slipping it inside. With his other hand, he slid the straps of her dress down her shoulders, exposing her breasts and leaning down to capture a nipple in his teeth.
Feyre arched involuntarily, seeking more friction from his hand, but he moved with her, denying her the additional stimulation. "And do you think the High Lord is just going to let you interrogate his mate?" she asked, her eyes rolling back in pleasure undermining the authoritative tone she was going for.
"Oh, undoubtedly," Azriel replied, removing his mouth from her breast. "In fact, the High Lord often likes to watch me work." He looked over to Rhys to see that the other male had indeed unbuttoned his pants and was stroking himself as Azriel worked on Feyre.
"I am very curious myself, Darling," Rhys interjected, and Feyre frowned as she realized she was outnumbered.
"So Feyre," Azriel continued, punctuating his words with the addition of another finger inside her, "are you going to tell me what I want to know?" She whimpered as he dragged his thumb across her sensitive bundle of nerves, but didn't say anything. "You can tell me this way, if you prefer," Azriel thought as he flitted a shadow across her exposed breasts. Still, she stayed obstinately silent, so he withdrew his fingers almost completely and gave her nipple a sharp pinch with his other hand.
Feyre groaned, trying to grind against Azriel's hand, but he bit down on her other nipple and she let up. She was panting hard, and even her mental voice sounded breathless when she finally gave in. "I was going to wake you up by rubbing your wings," she began, and Azriel rewarded her by replacing his teeth with his tongue, soothing where he had bitten.
"And what were you going to do once I was awake?" he encouraged, slipping his fingers back into her completely. Judging from the sounds coming from Rhys's throne, he was enjoying this as much as Azriel was.
"I was going to have you lie on your back," she gasped, "and have you lick me while Rhys used his mouth on you."
Azriel rewarded this admission by resuming small, tight circles with his thumb while continuing to drive two fingers into her. "There, Feyre, was that so hard?" he crooned. She whined in response, and he leaned up to capture the sound in his mouth. "Now be a good girl and tell Rhys what you just told me."
Her eyes closed again as Azriel flicked her nipple, but evidently she did as he said because out of the corner of his eye, Azriel saw Rhys increase his pace as he stroked himself. "That sounds like an excellent idea, Darling," Rhys said aloud, and Azriel curled his fingers in a way that he knew would send Feyre hurtling toward her release. Indeed, just a few moments later, her muscles were spasming around his hand as she let out a long moan, her fists clenching on the arms of her throne where his shadows still held her restrained. He worked her through her climax, only stopping when her breathing slowed and her eyes opened again.
Rhys, too, had found his release, and cleaned himself off with a wave of his hand as Azriel had his shadows release Feyre's wrists. The shadowsinger gently withdrew his hands from between Feyre's legs, licking his fingers clean before tenderly sliding the straps of her dress back up her shoulders. He gave her a self-satisfied smirk as she finally opened her eyes, and she mumbled a weak "Arrogant prick," before leaning forward to run her fingers through his hair and pull him into a kiss.
"I think it's probably time to take this party elsewhere," Rhys said, tucking himself back into his pants and rising gracefully to stand. Azriel stood as well, his lower legs tingling from having been on his knees on the hard floor so long, but he ignored the sensation as he helped Feyre to her feet. Rhys took both of their hands, and moments later they were standing not in the throne room at the Court of Nightmares but in Rhys and Feyre's spacious bedroom in Velaris.
Azriel reluctantly released his grip on their hands, unsure whether they were done with him, although fervently hoping they were not. Seemingly picking up on his predicament, Feyre gave him a wicked grin. "Strip," she ordered, and he gladly obeyed. With a tap of his Siphons, his black armor disappeared, leaving him clad in only a soft shirt and pair of undershorts, which were quickly discarded and the evidence of his arousal left in plain view.
"Lie down." This time the command came from Rhys, and Azriel dutifully strode to the bed and settled on his back. Looking over to the High Lord and Lady, Azriel was just in time to watch Feyre unbuckle the belt at her waist, sliding the fabric of her dress off her shoulders and to the floor in one motion, leaving her completely bare. Lust clouded his vision as she sauntered over to him, kissing him passionately before swinging her leg around to straddle his face, her feet just touching the sensitive tops of his wings.
"What are you waiting for?" Feyre demanded in his mind, and he smiled against her inner thigh before licking a long, leisurely swipe up her center. She let out a gratifying moan, and Azriel wasted no time wrapping his hands around her hips and pulling her tighter to him as he attacked her with his tongue.
"I hope you remember what happens next," Rhys whispered mentally as the bed dipped and Azriel felt large hands on his thighs. He groaned as he felt something warm and wet travel the length of his member, flicking a few times at the sensitive head before Rhys took him fully into his mouth. He began a slow, tantalizing pace, taking Azriel slightly deeper with each bob of his head, but it was the running commentary that had Azriel desperately trying to hold back his release and redoubling his efforts on Feyre.
"I'm sure you already know what a pleasure it is to watch you work," Rhys teased, sending him a mental image of Azriel knuckle-deep in Feyre with her breast in his mouth. Azriel jerked as Rhys swallowed his full length, bringing a hand trailing down his groin toward his rear entrance. He felt Feyre's fingers wind into his hair as she ground down on his face, searching for her second climax, as Rhys continued. "I wonder if we should tie you up and see how you like it."
"Fuck," was all Azriel could manage as Rhys slipped the tip of his finger inside him and Feyre began trembling atop him. Between her taste on his tongue and Rhys's mouth and finger expertly working him, he was no longer able to hold back his climax. He spilled into Rhys's mouth with a groan, tightening his grip on Feyre's hips just to have something to ground him to reality.
When he returned fully to his senses, Feyre was stroking his hair soothingly, and he loosened his grip to allow her to roll off to the side. Rhys had licked him clean, and was now sitting between his legs, absently tracing shapes on the membrane of his wing. "So tell me, Azriel," he began, "would you prefer ropes or chains when Feyre and I decide to have our way with you?"
Azriel groaned and flung an arm over his eyes, his body betraying him as he became half-hard once again. Feyre let out a surprised squeak, and Rhys laughed as he explained to her the silent conversation they had been having. "You're a menace," Azriel replied, and Rhys chuckled as Feyre tugged his arm away and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her.
"You certainly opened my eyes to how… effective… certain interrogation tactics can be," she said with a grin. "I guess I know how to get you to tell me what my Solstice present will be this year," she added with a wink, and he huffed a laugh as he sat up and pulled her across his lap.
"Do you worst, High Lady," he murmured as he pressed a kiss to her temple, "but I promise Rhys will give in to your brand of torture before I do." Even as he said the words, he wasn't sure they were true, not anymore, but he pushed that particular realization deep back behind his mental shields to deal with another day.
Rhys looked affronted, but his indignation was somewhat undercut by the straining at the front of the pants he had not yet removed, and Azriel shot him a triumphant smirk as he shifted Feyre back onto the bed and leaned forward to push Rhys onto his back. "Allow me to return the favor, High Lord," he teased, popping the pant buttons open as he captured Rhys's lips with his own. Then it was Rhys's turn to groan and writhe as Azriel's mouth moved south and Feyre sent them both mental images of the picture they made together on the bed, and Azriel found himself thinking that he would let these two do anything at all with him, so long as it was they who were doing it.