The Last Queen (An ACOTAR / Azriel fanfiction)

The Questions

When he emerged from the room hours later, Azriel found Daggerheart in the kitchen. He had suspected a few servants, since there was already tea when they came to the house but he soon found out it was  all curtesy to Daggerheart's magic. If he would have been able to see the sun, he would have found it shining overhead but the rain was still pouring down and the wind was still raging.

He heard the sound of clinking and feet shuffling in the kitchen which told him that someone else was in the kitchen with Daggerheart. He had never been able to hear her footsteps.

Then, as he plucked his still damp shirt from where it was still sticking to his chest, he heard her voice, "Have you not bothered me enough, you big banana head?" Doubtlessly, Daggerheart had chosen someone else to be the victim of her creative insults.

He blinked a few times, "Big banana head."
Then, he walked around the sofas to go and see who was at the mercy of her sharp tongue.

Every muscle in his body grew tense as he saw the face of the one man who he least expected, and wanted, to see.

Eris however, was barely holding onto his dignity by pinching his lips in a thin line. Azriel thought he would have the same reaction if Daggerheart had given him that same look and called him a "big banana head". 

He leaned against the wall and watched Eris look at him with a newfound expression of shock. Then, as if realising something, he smiled and Azriel leveled  his best glare at him.

Then, he opened his damned mouth, "I should really sent Julian to do the talking the next time." He said to Daggerheart.

"Send whoever you want to, but don't show me your face ever again or the Autumn Court will not have a new High Lord for a very long time." Daggerheart crossed her arms over chest. Azriel noticed she had changed into a gray nightgown.

Eris smiled wolfishlu at Azriel this time, "I'm sure if you can put up with warmongers, you can keep up with a High Lord."

Daggerheart stepped forward slowly, "I am a warmonger so I can keep up with them. I am no High Lord or Lady. I will tear your head off and hang it over the mantle in my study." Then, she clicked her tongue, "It would make a fine specimen. Perhaps, then the Fae would know not to wander into places they had no business being in."

"She keeps her word." Azriel twisted a blade in his hand.

"Of course." Eris said. "You would know." He eyed the nightgown Daggerheart was wearing.

Daggerheart sighed, "Truly, you are most tiresome sort of man. I can not think of a single person who could tolerate you if not for you being the son of a High Lord." She shook her head in irritation and her dark hair fell over her shoulders in luscious curls. Azriel fleetingly noticed that this was the first time he had actually seen her with her hair loose.

"You are-" Eris started harshly and Azriel stepped forward with full intention of breaking every bone in his fine face but Daggerheart cut him off.

"No." She snapped. "I have no obligation to listen to you. I ran this land before you were even  born. Do not presume to tell me what to do. If you and your band of friends want to talk to me, you ask for a time and place. If you ever crossed my threshold again, your father will be collecting what remains of you in a matchbox."

With this, she pushed her hair back and turned around, letting them fall smoothly over her half bare back and Eris clenched his jaw. Another glare from Azriel and he made the wise decision of leaving by himself.

Once he was out of the door, Azriel strapped his dagger back in it's place.

"And what are you doing standing there all damp?" This time she snapped at him.

"I am very nearly dry." He hastily said.

"Are you? I don't see it." She did a once over of his clothes and pointed at the fireplace. "Go sit there."

He was quick to seat himself and pour another cup of tea for himself.

As he drank the tea in small sips, he drank in Daggerheart in larger gulps. She was still angry and mumbling something under her breath as she pushed all the books on her dining table to one side and pulled a single large one out.

She stormed over to the small table by his side where the tea was and poured herself another cup. Her almost dry hair brushed against the now-very-visible curve of her waist. Some strands were still sticking to her forehead and the corners of her lips were turned down in a frown that made him imagine different ways he could kill Eris.

"Are all men in Prythian this detestable?" She said in an irritated voice.

He glanced up but looked away once he decided the painful press of his heart against his rib cage was not worth it. "Not all. You've met Cassian."

Then, she nodded a little and he watched the folds of her nightgown near her feet and the smooth grace with which she carried herself as she walked over to the table, pulled a chair and seated herself.

"I suppose-" she stopped his train of thoughts before it went too astray. "- that the High Lady's lover is agreeable as well." She swirled her tea.

"Rhysand is the High Lord."

"So he is not the High Lady's lover?" She raised her eyebrows.

"He is her mate." He explained.

"So, a lover?" She furrowed her brows and Azriel sighed.

"Yes. A lover."

She looked at him smugly. "I know who he is. I was here before he became the High Lord. But at the end of the day-" she shrugged and opened the book. "- he is but the High Lady's lover."

"You were alive then?" Azriel remembered her words to Eris. "How old are you?"

"Old." She took another sip of her tea.

"How old?" He pressed.

"More than you."

That can't be right. He thought. She worked for the Queens, she wasn't a queen until a year ago. She was not supposed to live for so long. But why would she be his mate if she wasn't supposed to be live for so long? He watched her flip a few pages before she cradled her face in her palms and began reading. How does she have magic? Wings?

The rain beat against the window and the wind howled outside as he sat and watched her lips move as she read silently. Occasionally, she would smile at the book and sometimes clasped a hand over mouth to stop herself from laughing.

Azriel made a mental note to ask someone in the library of Velaris for books that people enjoyed the most. He watched her as her hair eventually dried and she gathered them so they stopped blowing Into her face. Then, he watched her shoo him away after he burned a pan in an attempt to help her cook the dinner.

He hadn't even realised it had rained all day until she got up, gathered her books and asked him about dinner.

He watched her leaning over her plate of  food and her cup without a handle. He realised it was handmade.

Later, when he went to bed under her roof, and heard the soft click of a door being shut and the flap of wings, he asked the dark empty house, "What are you Daggerheart? Someone like you is not supposed to exist. What have you done?"