A Court of Shadows and Thunder // AzrielxOC SlowBurn Romance, ACOTAR FanFiction

Chapter 47 - Restraint

Perhaps indulging Brianna with what she wanted was a horrible idea, but Azriel felt as though he had lost all reason.

Going back to Windhaven camp was a horrible idea - that much the shadowsinger was sure of. But when Brianna had asked, simply asked, not even begged, not even more than once, he had accepted, without even giving a second thought.

What she had told him of Lyvia, what bruises she had seen on her, what fear had resonated in the Illyrian female's eyes when she had looked at Drakar... All Azriel knew was that something had to be done. Something needed to be done.

The Illyrians had always had a horrible reputation, and a reputation doesn't form without there being some truth to it. That they were brutes, savages, warriors who knew no mercy, who did as they willed, who bowed to no one, and who'd rather meet the end of a blade than to show even a hint of compassion.

Azriel would be a liar if he said he hadn't known of the awful happenings in the various camps, the villages, or even the Lords' mansions. He would have to be deaf to ignore to the rumours, blind to turn an eye to the reality of what could happen. Of what the males would do to the females, of the violations they committed. Of how powerful the males were brought up to be, how worthless the females were always told they were.

When Brianna had asked him about it, Azriel was clear on his stance. It was something Azriel hated, something that he, Cassian and Rhysand had long fought to eradicate.

There had been laws placed, punishments ensued, but the command of their General Commander often went ignored, even the words of their High Lord were dismissed. The Illyrians had their own ways, so deeply ingrained, so deeply fed with hatred and misogyny, and so often that not all whispers of their crimes made their way to the ears of the shadowsinger.

"They do not see reason to change," Azriel had told her, watching her as she combed through her wet hair with strong, abrupt strokes, "Even with the consequences staked against them, they have always believed to be in power."

"You only believe you are power until you've been told otherwise," Brianna had said plainly, setting the comb down with a loud thud, spinning to look at Azriel in the eyes, "Strip that away, and you'll see how they'll bend to change."

Azriel's mind had wandered to what she might have meant, had questioned what she would do to put those words into action. But he didn't say anything more, for she had put her hand out for him to hold, and the shadowsinger had winnowed them both into Windhaven camp.

The night had already come, only remnants of the setting sun beginning to disappear above the mountain tops. The wind was cold, and that much Azriel had expected, and he glanced over to Brianna who did not look dressed for the weather whatsoever. Only in her plain, cotton two piece, her midriff bare, her arms in full view. He should have told her to wear something warmer, he should have grabbed a coat or a sweater for her.

But Brianna had been impatient, and whatever plan in her mind had already been set into motion, and she walked through the camp as though the wind did not affect her. Even if time the winds felt as though they carried more bite, that this time the rain it sent down had sent shivers down Azriel's spine. And with Brianna walking by his side, he wondered if the winds had changed in her favour, wondered if the cold mirrored the look on her face.

While she kept her expression blank, Azriel was aware of what burned within. He could feel it, a fire churning within the pit of his stomach, a twisting of pain and anger curling in his chest, crawling up into his throat.

Again, his mind went to what she was going to do. It went and wandered to all that he had come to know of her, to all that he now knew she was capable of.