CHAPTER 5:
Rhysand left Azriel to think about recent events and to recollect his thoughts about what may be needed to be done next. Though it took a long time for the High Lord to leave his Shadowsinger alone, worried about his safety, and to if he might accidentally harm himself once more. He wouldn't though. Once his High Lord had pointed out what he had been doing to himself, he was shocked more than anything and he felt something else. Another feeling. He felt ashamed. He felt foolish. There was still so much that still needed to be done in the Night Court, Pythian. By the Cauldron, the world. Yet Azriel, he distracted his High Lord. Bastard. Why couldn't I just do this alone?
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It had been a week now since Rhys confronted Azriel on his harmful actions towards himself, and Azriel had responded. He made sure he was eating well, getting enough sleep, drinking. Hell, he even wound bandages around his hands when training to avoid his body taking too much of a beating. He trained with Cassian. With Rhysand. He still helped Feyre with her flying occasionally. He made sure that he wasn't alone whenever he was in the mindset of a battle, of fighting.
Pathetic. Do I need babysitting now?
One afternoon Azriel was sat outside reading one of his favourite novels, enjoying the last of the warmth for the season when Elain breezed onto the patio where the Shadowsinger was seated. Elain had always been the most classically beautiful of all three Archeron sisters. Granted, all of them were spectacular in their own way, but Elain was just the most appealing to Azriel. He guessed it was how both of them had the same inclination to keep themselves to themselves, he appreciated that particular trait. He sometimes wished his brothers would pick up on that.
"Hello. Feyre said you were out here, do you mind if I join you?" She asked, with a sweet tone. Elain never wanted to be rude or intrude on anyone's space, but Azriel hadn't spoken to her in what felt like a long time. He obliged. They sat together and talked. She opened up the basket she had been carrying and they shared a small loaf of rye bread she had baked earlier today. Once another conversation had come to a natural close, she started a more serious topic.
"Can I ask you something personal?"
"Of course." He replied almost instantly.
"I have been told little about your life, but I know the basics. I hope you don't think ill of me that I did not ask you directly, but from your mannerisms, I wasn't sure if you would be happy talking about it," Azriel nodded in confirmation, suddenly regretting his stance on this topic. "Ho-How did you manage to fit in?"
"Fit in?" He asked for clarification.
"With the other Fae and Illyrians. If you personally did not...feel like one of them." She responded, her voice becoming quieter as her sentence drew to a close. Azriel exhaled a long breath of air.
"That's difficult for me to answer."
"I kno- I'm sorry, that was inappropriate of me to ask."
"No no!" He articulated quickly. Gaging that she did not understand what he meant. "I mean, that would be difficult for me to answer as we all adapt in alternate ways, so ways I 'fit in' and ways you will are different. If I am correct in thinking that you are talking about yourself."
She nodded meekly.
"I just think," She exhaled. "Everyone here has someone. Feyre was born mortal, but she has Rhysand to feel like she belongs. Nesta flirts with Cassian, though she'll deny it until heavens knows when" They chuckled at the comment. "Even Amren, who wasn't born Fae has Varian. I just- I feel like I am being silly. I feel a little like I am intruding on someone else's land. On someone else's space." She finished. Azriel thought of a way to respond to this.
"It takes a long time to adapt to something like this. You were mortal, living to about 80 years old. But now, but now you are immortal with no average age span. That is a lot to comprehend. Feyre struggled a lot more than you know. I don't know how much you two have talked about things, but, she used to slip up on the wording of things, saying things like 'they' rather than 'we'. She still does occasionally. So do I," He admitted. "But I'll tell you what I told her. You get used to. There is no method I can teach you." He finished.
They continued to talk for a good while and Elain thanked him then politely excused herself to go to bed. Indeed, it was night time now. The stars shining down on Velaris, on the Rainbow. He smiled to himself. Maybe he needed to vent about things more than he thought.
Please give me your feedback. I know I am repeating myself a lot with this, but the only way I can improve is by constructive criticism. Plus, I have no idea where this story is headed, give me some ideas! - Jessica
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Azriel's Tale
FanfictionSet after A Court of Wings and Ruin. Rather than focusing on Rhysand and Feyre, this story is told in Azriel's narrative.