The Last Queen (An ACOTAR / Azriel fanfiction)

Daggerheart

Daggerheart felt the cool edge of the scissor brush her back and the faint chopping of her hair as she sat silently on the floor.

"I thought you liked them longer." She commented.

Azriel paused, perhaps startled that she knew, " I did not." He continued.

"Yes you did." She insisted.

"I liked....." He stopped. "It was not the length I liked, though it was a nice addition."

"What did you like then?" She asked.

"Were they so long because you couldn't use a mirror?"

"Yes. Now answer my question." She prodded.

Azriel sighed, "They were just very soft. They still are, but then it was nicer.....on my scars." He said the last part quietly.

They both sat in silence for a long while and Daggerheart focused on the pitter-patter of rain before he offered, "If you want someone to cut them for you, you can just ask me."

Daggerheart smiled, "You don't want to know why I cannot see myself?"

He nodded, "I do. Will you tell me?"

She shook her head with the same smile and he nodded in understanding. Then, out of nowhere, she said, "Tell me about Elain Archerone."

Azriel's hands stopped. He let the scissors hang from his finger. "What are you, really?"

She turned around, "Would you rather have this conversation go some other way?"

He shook his head, "Yes, actually. I haven't seen her in a while, because of reasons that you might know." He said pointedly and she laughed. "But yes, tell me about something else."

She sat thinking for a second before saying, "I'm bad at this."

Azriel laughed, "That makes two of us." Then, after a bit of chin tapping, he asked, "How are you immortal if you're not fae?"

She raised her eyebrows and he said, "I had to start somewhere!" Defensively.

"I suppose so." She again turned around and sat quietly for a while before speaking softly, "My father loved me a great deal. I was his only child after all. He was one of the people who rose against the fae first. That's where he met my mother. They were both brilliant, brilliant people as you might be able to tell."She gestured to herself and he snorted. She continued, "I was twenty one and hiding with the rebels when my father started working for the queens. He trained me for the war but I never got to fight in it after my mother was killed during an attack before it could start. I replaced my mother and slowly my father as he worked farther and father away from us. Eventually, I became too precious to lose." She sighed. "Then, they made me drink something. It was awful. My insides burned and my mouth bled. Blood was pouring out of my eyes and ears for hours and then I fainted. I don't remember the moment I woke up but they later told me that I killed fourteen of them." She shrugged. Azriel had stopped cutting her hair long ago. He listened intently. "I don't know how they did it but they charged me into something else. I'm neither human nor fae. I haven't been able to see myself since then." Then, she smiled sadly, "I wonder if I look the same."

"What about your father?" Azriel asked quietly.

"He died like mortals do. He was content though. He thought he was leaving me in safe hands." She genuinely smiled at the memory of him.

Azriel, not knowing what to say, sat with her in the comfortable silence of her room "Daggerheart?"

She hummed a response.

"I don't know you."

"You do, Azriel. Didn't you know that I would like my hair cut every once in a while?" She mused.

He made a face at that, "That's not called knowing someone."

"I don't know if you've noticed but I don't particularly care about definitions." She stood up and faced him.

He looked up at her from the edge of the bed. "Well then, what else do you like?"

She smiled, "Books."

"I gathered that." He chuckled.

She pressed her palm to his heart and he held her hand. "I also like pottery."

"You make those handle less mugs yourself?" He asked, amused.

"Of course." She nodded. "I also like cake."

He laughed, "I'll learn to bake one, if that's what you want. Don't ever lie to me about it again." He set the scissors aside.

"I won't. I also like thunderstorms."

"I know. You fell asleep with your window open today. I had to close it." He shook his head with a smile.

She narrowed her eyes, "I was half-naked. What were you doing flying up to my bedroom window?"

He hooked one arm around her waist. "I've seen you completely naked before."

She poked his chest, "And you still felt the need to fly up here."

He pulled her forward, "I've seen the moon a thousand times too. What about it?"

She sucked in a breath and put her hand against his cheek. He pulled her down and flipped her over so she was on the bed. Her hair spilled onto the bedsheets like ink and her hands were on both sides of her head.

His eyes travelled over her gold freckled eyes, the delicate planes of her face, her parted lips as she said, "You will regret this in the morning."

"The question is-" he said, "- will you regret this?" His fingers traced the curve of her hips through the sheer fabric of her nightgown.

"I don't do things I regret." She said. "Is this your revenge on me?"

"Perhaps." He toyed with one her thin sleeves. "I cannot own your body but I can seep into your skin until you can't tell your scent from mine." He looked into her eyes, "Will you let me?"

She laced her arms around his neck. "Gladly. Sometimes the revenge is worth it."

As his lips roamed over the lushness of her body, she mumbled, "You won't be able to get rid of me either, Azriel. Don't forget that."

He lifted his mouth, his breath heavy, and said, "I don't care."

"Aren't you scared? You have someone out there you could loose."

He pulled her cold body closer, "You make me brave."

She held onto a fistful of bedsheet when he lowered his mouth between her legs. His tongue moved in luxurious strokes and she arched her back. He tugged at her and whispered firmly, "Look at me."

She gulped and looked into his golden eyes as he lowered himself again. Everytime She closed her eye, he stopped and waited for her to look at him again. She whispered his name, not finding any other word in her mind in the moment.

Her body shook and she pushed herself against his mouth.

Her nails dug into his shoulders and she left tiny love bites all over his chest as he moved inside of her. As warmth collected at her core, she whimpered and he rasped out her name. "It's okay." He whispered into her ear and pulled her closer. "You're marvellous."

Later, she slept on his chest and mumbled against his sweaty skin, "You smell more like me than I do like you."