Potions & Shadows (Part II)

Potions & Shadows (Part II)

Summary: An old neighbor of Feyre's is revealed to be not who they seemed when Feyre was a child. Leadign to Feyre needing the once village apothecaries help. Inspired by Frieren: Beyond Journey's End.

A/n: This part is more background heavy to build up the plot a bit. Hybern in the books doesn't have a lot to build off of so I'm going to try to make him a greater villain tbh. At least make him a bit more feared. Thank you all for 100 follows btw!

Word Count: 3k

Part One, part two, part three. part four

Warmings: Mini trauma dump on Azriel, mentions of death.

Taglist: @cherry-cin, @sassybluebird, @aehllitas-blog

I shouldn’t enjoy doing this. what the hell is wrong with me

Is what Azriel had thought as he stared at the documents laid out before him in the middle of the night. Rhysand assigned him to look into you the moment you arrived in the night court. Of course, Rhysand trusted his mate that you were a good person. But one could not be too eager about letting someone foreign into the court. Also, it wasn’t like Azriel wasn’t curious about you. In fact, you were currently his muse. As you were easy to find information about, and perhaps in the future would inform you not to leave such an easy paper trail.

The sound of ruffling papers filled the room as he scanned the documents. 

By all means, you were an outstanding citizen. You were top of your class at a prestigious mage academy on a sponsorship a hundred years ago. You kept your mage certification current and renewed it before it expired. Initially, Azriel had thought that your adventurer guild meant you would be a mercenary, however, he was wrong. As he sifted through the quests you took on, he saw that they were for small rewards- helping farmers, rebuilding villages. You paid your taxes on time and your home in Feyre’s village is fully paid for. Mother above, there was no hidden information about you except for an eighty-year period where he couldn’t find a single piece of evidence that you existed anywhere, aside from word of mouth that a young elf lived alone in the woods.

A deep sigh escaped his lips as he rubbed his face. You were too sweet—not even a small fine for failing to pay a toll. There was nothing bad about you, yet here he was, investigating your whole life, feeling like it was more for his own sake than for Rhysand's. A report sat in his hands that he had written about you for Rhysand, perhaps Rhysand would offer you a position in the inner circle. It wasn’t like a court mage would be bad, in fact, mages in Prythian were rare.  A knock pulled him out of his thoughts. He opened the door to reveal Elain standing in the doorway.

“Elain, you should be asleep, it’s the middle of the night,” Azriel spoke lowly as he shifted to lean against the doorway, one of his wings blocking her view of the room behind him. It was a subtle gesture that would go unnoticed by her, as she spoke softly. 

“I couldn’t sleep and I saw your light, so I figured I would come to check on you, you seemed distracted at dinner tonight,” Elain looked nervous as she looked up at Azriel whose eyes softened. Perhaps he was getting a soft spot for mortals. Yet, neither of you was truly mortal. You smelled like one, with a faint scent of blossoms, you seemed fragile like one but your eyes spoke of an immortality of knowledge. Had he been staring for too long into the distance because Elain’s soft voice pulled him away again, “Azriel? I asked if you wanted to walk with me to the gardens?” Azriel brought himself to look at the once mortal in front of him. There was no doubt she was beautiful, becoming fae just heightened those features and the way she looked at him, spoke something. Yet, when he looked at her, he had wished it were you asking him to escort you to the gardens or whatever hell you tasked him to do. 

What in the hells have you done to him, he had just met you yet he felt like something was pulling him to you. 

“I cannot tonight,” Azriel offered a small smile, one that caused Elain to stiffen as she looked away, a gesture that did not go unnoticed, “When I return from the camps tomorrow, I will join you though” he answered softly as she nodded and offered a goodnight before she went back to her quarters. Azriel gently closed the door, his shadows caressing his frame and mentions of sleep in their whispers. Azriel rubbed his eyes before finishing the report and heading to a short slumber. 

**** 

In the morning when Azriel walked out of his quarters strapped in his Illyrian leathers, Cassian was waiting down the hallway, leaning against the wall.

“You hate the camps, is this healer cute or something” Cassian flashed a grin, but his expression changed when he noticed Azriel flash him an annoyed look, “Given her race, I don’t want her to have trouble at the camps. If those potions break, we will be behind schedule for the war. It has nothing to do with how ‘cute’ she is” Azriel mentioned with a smile tugging his lips as he gave Cassian a gentle nudge with his wing as he made his way past to head out for the day. 

Cassian nodded a small smile still on his face, though Azirel sensed that his brother wasn’t waiting for him this morning. Cassian’s eyes flicked towards the eldest Archeron sister’s room, perhaps Cassian was waiting for a meeting with a viper. 

****

Meanwhile, at the healer’s cottage, you were carefully packing potions and elixirs into crates. With your staff in hand, you guided various bottles to float gently into three crates, the soft clinks of glass filling the room. As you worked, Madja entered.

“One of the members of the court is going to escort you. These Illyrians can be… unwelcoming to folk like yourself. Better safe than sorry kid,” she said, her tone awkward. She avoided meeting your gaze, but you understood her concern. You knew you were different and that the Fae in these parts might not be kind to you. Offering Madja a soft smile and a nod, you continued your preparations.

Once the crates were filled and securely clasped shut, you used your magic to float them into the main room of the cottage. Madja followed quietly as the front door opened, revealing Azriel and his shadows. His wings were tucked in tightly as he entered, his gaze immediately locking onto you and your staff. Your watercolor eyes met his golden ones that hid behind his dark curls that fell just above his eyes as you gently set the crates down and desummoned your staff.

Azriel felt his heart tug when he saw you. His shadows seemed intrigued, attempting to pull away from his grasp and head towards you. Azriel just held onto them tighter, not letting them dare touch you. 

So pretty, pretty little mage, the shadows whispered to him. They spoke of your mixed heritage, and your connection with nature, and reminded him of your humanity. So fragile their whispers ceased when he waved them off. As he looked at you, he did not have a clue what you were thinking as you gazed at the talons on top of his wings. 

“You probably might want to winnow, I fear flying will be a bit difficult. Even with your mage magic y/n,” Madja said, nodding your way. However Azriel was not paying attention as once he finally heard your name, it sung like a prayer in his mind. Finally a name for that pretty face. Azriel picked up the three crates with ease.

“Can you winnow?” He asked, Azriel was unfamiliar with mages as they were quite rare in Prythian, their magic was different than the fae, as mages were limited to spells. You shook your head in response. Azriel simply balanced the three crates in one hand, as he extended his other hand to you. 

“I can winnow us to a point, but it will be a mile or two of walking. Can you handle that?” Azriel stated softly. You seemed so fragile as you placed your small hand into his large one. He had been around full-blood humans in the past and knew how fragile they were. Elves weren’t much different besides their mana making them only somewhat stronger than humans. Azriel wondered where you may lay between the two. 

“I’ll be okay, I’m used to traveling,” offering him a reassuring smile. Within seconds, shadows swirled around you both as you winnowed to the middle of the woods a few miles outside the Illyrian camp. 

You stood a couple feet smaller than him, his shadows whispered, So petite, so fragile. With a wave of your hand, you summoned your staff, a crescent moon on top of with a glittering blue stone hanging from the crest. The magic lifted the crates from his arms as you both walked. A smile tugged Azriel’s lips as he clasped his hands behind his back slowing his pace to match your stride.

Time to fill in the gaps of his knowledge about you. He struck up a conversation, an interrogation of sorts, “How did you become a mage?” Azriel spoke softly, his voice a melody to your ears as you sheepishly glanced back at him. You feared that if you looked at him for too long, you would fall for this deadly presence, for whatever reason every instinct in your body feared him yet a part of you wanted to be closer. A new emotion seemed to fill you with every glance you sent his way. 

You released a sigh as your gaze shifted to the large pine trees that grew along the dirt path, “When I was young, I was saved by a human mage,” Human mages were something that had only occurred in the continent. The continent had a more progressive approach by human and fae standards, allowing humans to practice magic if they had the mana for it. Meanwhile, the human villages in Prythian still feared the presence of magic. 

“Saved?” Azriel echoed as he glanced at you. He knew most of the Elven villages were burned by Hybern centuries ago, by the thousands, Hybern had sought to eradicate most of the elves because of their high amounts of mana, a possible threat to fae kind. Whoever wasn’t killed, he had them as slaves wearing collars that stripped them of their mana. 

“Hybern’s generals still wreak havoc in the continent,” you murmured with your gaze still on the path, “My entire village was slaughtered one night when one of his generals arrived, many of the people in my village were half-breeds like myself, my mentor, the human mage found me that night after the war party had left,” 

Azriel looked at your face, expecting to see a sad expression. Instead, he found a look that was unreadable, devoid of emotion. Not even your eyes revealed your thoughts. 

“I never got your name,” You spoke as your gaze shifted to meet his lingering one, “or what you do for the court.” Azriel looked ahead to the path. They were nearing the camp soon enough. 

“It’s Azriel. My position, however, is a secret,” he said quietly, bringing a finger to his lips. “You can just assume that I do a lot of paperwork. A boring position, really.”

A lie, you thought as you looked into his eyes. From your time as an adventurer, you had learned to read people. One thing you learned was to look into a person’s eyes to discern who they truly were. Azriel’s eyes revealed much more; they showed that he had done many unsavory acts, perhaps with killing being the least brutal. His golden eyes, like a pot of honey, hid a sinister predator behind their warm facade.

One of his shadows moved to twirl around your wrist at his command. You jumped a little at the cool, silk-like touch of the shadow. “We are nearing the camp. I will take the crates to the camp leader. You will stay here by this tree,” Azriel commanded. He was not asking you to stay; he was telling you to. The shadow seemed to serve as either a way for him to track your location or to signal that you were his companion in case any other Illyrians came near. You made a mental note that Illyrians seemed to be territorial or overprotective.

You desummoned your staff as Azriel grabbed the crates and carried them the rest of the way to camp. Sitting down next to a tree, you waited for him. Around half an hour later, you felt a brush of wind against you as Azriel landed. His wings outstretched before tucking in behind him, instilling a sense of awe within you.

“You don’t have fae senses, do you?” he asked quietly. You shook your head as he helped you up from the ground. If you did, you would have sensed him the moment he was within a few feet of you. “Can you detect scents either?” he asked. Another shake of your head. You mentioned that you could detect mana, but only if it was from another mage or a magical creature. Azriel made a note of that, perhaps feeling thankful for your lack of senses. This way, you couldn’t sense how his heart pounded every time you met his gaze.

“Would you like a tour of Velaris?” he asked, “I promise I won’t drop you in flight,” he added with a hint of amusement. You looked at him and then at his wings as he stretched them slightly. A fear still instilled within you.

“I should help Madja with preparations…” you whispered. Azriel listened to your soft voice, noting the fear behind your words. He smiled—a genuine smile that he reserved only for his family. A smile that heightened his beautiful features, causing you to look away. “I promise I will go slow. It won’t be so bad, I assure you,” Azriel said, hearing your heart pounding. You were nervous. Were you scared to be near him?

“Another time,” you responded finally, grabbing his hand without a thought. “For now, can you winnow me back to the healer’s cottage?”

“Of course,” he said. With that, he led you back to the cottage, shadows swirling around you both as you disappeared from the forest and reappeared at the healer’s door. You waved him goodbye as he bowed slightly at the waist, causing a warmth to form on your cheeks when you saw his dark curls fall above his eyes that seemed to pierce you.

“Until next time, y/n,” Azriel spoke softly before he took off into the skies, his wings outstretched as if they were big enough to block the afternoon sun, powerful enough to rustle the trees. Such a powerful creature, you thought as you entered the cottage.

*****

Azriel took off to Rhysand’s office to drop off the report on the new healer. As he arrived, he found Rhysand at his desk, poring over piles of paperwork in preparation for the upcoming High Lords' meeting. Azriel observed the signs of stress on Rhysand—his disheveled hair, evidence of having run his fingers through it one too many times, and the dark circles under his violet eyes.

Rhysand glanced up as Azriel entered the room. “How was the camp?” he mused with a hint of amusement. “And the healer?”

Azriel smirked as he took a seat across from Rhysand, crossing one leg over the other and letting his wings drape behind him. “Camp was decent. Devlon scented her on the bottles and was asking if the humans were slaves again,” Azriel said, rolling his eyes. The healer's intoxicating scent still lingered on him, not that he minded. Rhysand muttered "Illyrian bastards" under his breath as he signed another document.

Azriel continued, “As for the healer, I have my report done. She’s a bit more closed off in person but leaves a paper trail. Overall, a good citizen. Only eighty years after her mage exam is left without any trail of her existence.” Azriel glanced at the document Rhysand was reading—something about budgets. “I have a feeling that was around the time her mentor passed away. Her mentor was human, after all.”

“From the continent then? Do you feel like she’s strong? From what Madja has praised, she’s a damn good healer,” Rhysand said, looking up.

Azriel nodded before continuing, “A first-class mage, one of the six that still remain. I can’t sense any magic or mana on her. I have a feeling she is suppressing it at all times—a skill even most fae can’t master.” Azriel smirked slightly. A damn good mage indeed.

“Your call then, Az,” Rhysand replied. “Is she a threat? Feyre wants her to come to dinner. Perhaps it would make her sisters feel more at ease with someone familiar around. Preferably Nesta,” Rhysand grimaced slightly with his last comment. 

Azriel looked at his scarred hand that once held your soft, dainty one. “Not a threat at all,” he murmured.

A City of Dreams [Part Two]

Series Summary: ModernAU of ACOTAR, Azriel breaks away from the small town of Windhaven to escape his toxic family and chase his dreams with his newfound family. Leaving behind his small-town life for new ventures in Velaris. 

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three-Coming soon!]

Word Count: 2.1k

Trigger warnings: Pet names (lil fawn), drinking, clubbing, let me knew if I'm missing any!

A sigh of relief escaped you as you finally beat the morning coffee rush, rolling your shoulders back as you leaned against the counter. Your managers handled the coffee order today, so it should be an easy day. The summertime menu was soon ready with your next shipment of strawberries. That meant strawberry pastries and strawberry lattes, your favorite time of the year.

The bell connected to the door chimed as it swung open to reveal Feyre approaching you with heavy steps. She released a deep sigh as she ran her hands through her shimmering brown hair—how does someone have that much volume? You will never understand.

"I just got the rejection email," Feyre sighed heavily as she took a spot next to the coffee bar, laying her head on the table. Deciding to whip her up a matcha latte with vanilla cold foam, you could always tell what type of drinks suited people. Feyre was a not-too-sweet individual, and Matcha complimented her. Something about Feyre was calming enough but had bitter undertones like Matcha; it can be sweet or bitter. A soft hum escaped your lips as you made her drink. "Did it say why you got rejected?" you murmured as you whisked the green powder with warm water.

"I don’t meet the five fluent language criteria. I mean, who knows five languages, y/n?" Feyre exclaimed through a frustrated sigh as she pressed her forehead on the counter. "What kind of personal assistant does that guy need?"

Handing Feyre the drink, you couldn’t help but notice the exhaustion etched in your friend’s features. Watching Feyre take a sip, her silver-blue eyes reflecting a mixture of frustration and resignation. 

"Let’s go out tonight, close early, I want to get trashed," Feyre sighed. "I’m now a single, jobless, freelance artist. Who can’t even manage to meet the requirements for a stupid personal assistant position."

You reassured her, “The guy was probably a jerk anyways," as you cleaned up the counters. "You probably would have hated it. Anyways, yeah, I could always close early tonight. Let’s go to Rita’s?" Looking over your shoulder, you noticed Feyre on her phone staring at a photo of her and Tamlin. "You could always go back to him, you know? He seemed kind of obsessed over you."

Feyre deleted the photo after finishing her latte but didn’t say a word. You couldn’t imagine what she was thinking. You took the glass from her, and she stayed for a while making small talk with you before mentioning that she would see you at home later tonight. Leaving with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. 

******* 

Azriel finished his shower with a towel wrapped around his waist. A few more hours of code, and he should be done for the day. His phone chimed, a text from Rhysand in their group chat:

"Rita’s tonight 🍻🍾 to celebrate the new update."

An annoyed sigh escaped Azriel’s lips as he put the phone back down and got dressed. After getting ready, he took a seat at his computer and began working on code for what felt like hours. The eye bags under his eyes seemed to only get heavier.  

*******

The club pulsed with energy, the bass thumping in time with the pounding of your heart. Neon lights danced across the walls, casting kaleidoscopic patterns on the writhing bodies on the dance floor. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol, sweat, and perfume, punctuated by bursts of laughter and the occasional shout. Yep, a typical Friday night at Rita’s. 

Feyre was wearing one of the skimpiest dresses you’ve ever seen her wear, and she was rocking it, of course. You opted for a black tight dress that hugged your body. Feyre held your hand, guiding you to a spot at the bar, where she ordered you both drinks. Both of which were fruity cocktails that you both downed the second they touched your hands. Setting them on the bar, you both left to go dancing.

"Tonight! We put past all of our worries; tomorrow will be a new, better day," Feyre laughed as she danced before you.

You both danced, feeling the rhythm of the bumping club music. The lights strobing, intoxicating both of you. Clubbing in Velaris was a whole other level compared to both of your small-town lives. People here were here to be seen; everything was about who or what you knew in Velaris. While dancing, neither of you realized the violet eyes piercing Feyre as she swayed her hips. It wasn’t until a waitress tapped on Feyre’s shoulder and pointed to a table on the second floor, claiming a man up there was requesting you both to meet him.

You weren’t sure if it was the environment, the drinks, or the way Feyre was blushing when she caught the gaze of the man. He was breathtakingly handsome, the typical rich guy with tailored clothes that seemed to hug his silhouette. As he manspread at the table drinking a glass of whiskey, his friends chatted amongst themselves. When Feyre began walking over to the table, he set down his glass in one swift motion and came up to her, grabbing her hand and planting a soft kiss on top of it.

"You are absolutely divine," He said in a sultry voice as his violet eyes met her silvery blue ones. A blush crept onto Feyre’s face as she met his eyes.

"Thank you," she muttered sheepishly as he guided her to sit down next to him. The man’s name was Rhysand; by the looks of it, the man was loaded. For someone so young, he seemed accomplished and fascinated by Feyre. Before you knew it, he bought a bottle for the table.

You sat next to her, of course, being cautious of your friend. You hear stories all the time of attractive men leading women to their doom. You sip on your drink, keeping a watchful gaze at Rhysand’s hands, who seemed to be kept on his lap.

At least he was respectful.

You felt a piercing gaze at you from across the table, meeting a pair of hazel eyes that had dark undereye bags underneath them. You recognized the look. It was the man from earlier. Instead, now you could see his whole face.

Rhysand was a different type of handsome, like what you would expect a CEO to look like or some actor that would star as the male lead. The man before you looked like a tired prince or even an idol. Soft black curls covered his face just below the brow, and he had these full dark lips…that you couldn’t stop staring at. Why couldn’t you stop staring at them? Was it the drinking? A smile tugged his lips as he moved closer to you.

A low voice, almost a whisper in your ear, "You live down the hall? What a small world we are meeting here." His breath was hot, sending shivers down your body. Instead of responding, you took a sip of the champagne that Rhysand bought for the table—champagne you would normally never be able to afford. You finally gathered the courage to meet his gaze, his hazel eyes held warmth.

"Yeah…about two doors down from you, I’m assuming," you mutter sheepishly. He was so intimidating, yet you felt comfortable enough that if he asked you a question, you would be able to answer it without hesitation. You couldn’t help but notice his hands. Burn markings scattered all over them.

"Azriel, that’s my name. What’s yours?" He followed your gaze before setting his drink on the table and folding his hands over his lap. A stutter spurred from your lips, "Y/n, a pleasure to meet you Azriel," you look at him, yet your eyes are once again drawn to his lips.

An amused smile tugged his lips as he looked over at you up and down. "Y/n, pretty name for a little fawn like you. You don’t seem like the clubbing type," Azriel’s gaze met your eyes again as he tilted his head. "What brought you here tonight?"

"Celebrating losses, to say the least." You gave a slight nod to Feyre, who seemed to be laughing at Rhysand’s joke as she leaned against him. You looked around the room and back at him. "How about you? You looked exhausted."

Azriel leaned a bit closer; you both were touching at this point. "Celebrating losses? Well, I suppose we are opposites because we're celebrating wins." A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned to grab his drink from the table and took a sip. Not breaking eye contact with you. "What’d you lose, little fawn?"

"Personally, I didn’t lose anything, just supporting my friend- who is getting very comfortable with your friend over there," You glance at him as he notices them with a smile on his face. "She needed a little pick me up, rough day for her."

"Hopefully tonight will be better for her then," He smiled. "Also, don’t worry about Rhysand; taking home drunk girls was in his early twenties. He was captivated by her dancing. Wait til he finds out, she lives down the hall from him." a teasing tone in his voice. "Clubs are nice and all, but do you want to get out of here? Maybe grab some food?"

Was he asking you out, was he expecting more, is it okay to have a playful fling with your extremely attractive neighbor?

As Azriel’s gaze bore into yours, your mind raced with questions and doubts. Was he asking you out? Did you want him to? The alcohol buzzed in your veins, clouding your thoughts and judgments. Loosening your inhibitions. “Yes” escaped your lips without a second guess, the words hanging in the air like an unspoken promise. 

The two of you left; Rhysand had given you his number and said that he would take Feyre home and he would text you when he did. Nice guy, especially for paying for your drinks the whole night.

Azriel took your hand, his large hands grabbing your soft ones. The callouses from working out rubbing against your soft palm. A part of you wondered what they would feel like around your… no, no naughty thoughts, you barely just met the guy. He had guided you outside the club.

"Do you like ramen?" He asked as he looked down at you; he was nearly a foot taller than you. You gave a small nod, and he guided you to a place he knew down the street from your apartment. You were starting to limp, your heels scraping the back of your ankles causing a blister. Azriel looked down and noticed before stopping at a bench.

"Sit here, I’ll be right back," He said with a smile before doing a slight jog to the nearby convenience store. The cold breeze made you slightly shiver. A curious glance at the back of Azriel as he entered the store a block away. Perhaps, he was getting beer?

Moments later, Azriel came back with a bag. He pulled out a package of bandaids and bent down on one knee. Looking up at you he murmured in a soft voice, "Can I touch you?" a blush met your cheeks as you nodded. His warm hands took off your high heels and placed a bandaid on the blisters. His touch was gentle. "There," he said softly "I can carry you if you want?" He looked up at you, his eyes that once seemed intimidating, almost seemed like a puppy full of concern.

"It’s fine," you responded bashfully, "You didn’t have to do that, you know," looking away from his gaze.

"I wanted to, I can imagine that high heels alone don’t feel good, much less with the addition of blisters. How about we postpone ramen and instead get you home," He smiled before reaching for your phone. “I’ll add my number, so make sure you save the date.”

Azriel even took a selfie for the contact photo, a gift honestly to see this man’s angelic face.

After placing his contact information in your phone, he put your high heels back on and stood up, reaching for your hand. “Let’s get going, shall we?” You nodded and took his hand, feeling the scars. Perhaps one day, you’ll learn about them.

Tag list: @lilah-asteria, @brieflyclassymortal

A City of Dreamers [Part One]

Series Summary: ModernAU of ACOTAR, Azriel breaks away from the small town of Windhaven to escape his toxic family and chase his dreams with his newfound family. Leaving behind his small-town life for new ventures in Velaris. 

[Part One]{Part Two]

Work Count: 1.5K

Trigger warnings: Tabaco use and trauma mentioned, I think that's it!

Another night, another nightmare. Azriel awoke to the gentle sunlight creeping through his window, emitting a small groan as he stretched amidst the boxes littering his bedroom, remnants of his recent move taking a toll on him. Another task he needed to complete to a list that already seemed endless. 

Three years prior, Rhysand, fresh out of university, pitched the idea of starting a tech company called ‘Night Corp.’ Rhysand’s father, a real estate mogul, agreed to fund the venture under the condition it operated in Velaris. As the company prospered, they moved into an apartment closer to work. 

The company ‘Night Corp’ is the biggest in technology. Booming after a year of the three of the ‘brothers’ working eighty-hour weeks. Azriel running the programming and hardware side. Cassian working on management and dealing with the paperwork. While Rhysand was the face, he made sure to bring in the investors and funding. Over time, the company grew larger and larger. Which led to the boys moving into an apartment closer to work. 

The apartment boasted amenities, including separate bathrooms and balconies for each room. Azriel found solace in his smoke breaks on the balcony, appreciating the alone time overlooking the city with a faint scent of tobacco in the air. Cassian however would always chastise him for smoking, but old habits are hard to die out. 

Struggling with the sleepless nights fueled by long coding sessions and haunting memories, Azriel joined Cassian in the kitchen. Finding Cassian making breakfast and doing a small dance as he jammed out to his booming music. 

Azriel moved past him to start his morning coffee, much deserved from the late night he had. Cassian shot him a big grin. 

“There’s a boxing gym nearby if you want to check it out with me later today,” Cassian mentioned as he removed his headphones. 

Azriel shook his head, his messy dark curls bouncing. “I need to ensure the program is fine for the next big launch. Security reasons” Azriel shrugged. “I’ll check it out later with you some other time.” 

Cassian raised a brow. “You know, Az, you don’t have to work yourself to the bone anymore. We’ve got a solid team now. Gone are the days of us slaving away in Rhys’ mom’s basement. Remember, you hired the best from Velaris Tech. Let them shoulder some of the load.”

Azriel shrugged, pouring his coffee and taking a sip. “I’ll think about it” 

It’s true, that Azriel did seek out some of the best programmers for the business. A business that started in a business that now had several major buildings around Prythian. While Velaris remains to be headquarters. 

Rhysand, already at the office, tasked Mor, who was already busy as the marketing director, to find him a personal assistant. Signaling the start of yet another busy day at Night Corp. 

*****

In an apartment two doors down from the boys lived Feyre and Y/n. Childhood best friends who grew up in a small town together that later reconnected. Both of them had faced their challenges.

Feyre is one of three sisters. The oldest was Nesta a famous ballet dancer, one of the best in all of Prythian who frequently traveled, rarely visited unless for the holidays. The middle child, Elaine, worked as a florist in the Springs. However, she did visit more frequently than Nesta. Feyre was the youngest and unfortunately, her father already exhausted most of his income on his other two daughters, leaving Feyre to figure her life out on her own.  

Feyre never was able to go to college unless she wanted copious amounts of debt. Though her artwork was enough to pay for rent, her income wasn’t stable enough. Some months were better than others, leaving Feyre in the middle of applying for a position as a personal assistant, there was no guarantee she would even get an interview without a degree. She was still going to give it her best shot. The job paid well enough that she could start saving up for her studio and be able to pay rent. 

Y/n on the other hand, inherited her parents' coffee shop. After they had passed away, left her with nothing but the deed to a business that she never knew her folks owned. Y/n spent her days tirelessly researching how to even run a business and while sorting through her emotions of losing her parents- cleaned up the place. From time to time Feyre would come and help. Painting the walls, even including a beautiful mural of the Sidra River on one of the walls. After a year of opening the business, the income was stable enough that she could hire a full staff.

The coffee house was unique in a way that instead of being open in the early hours of the morning, the cafe would instead be open late into the night. Allowing night owls like herself to feel the comfort of a good cup of coffee.

It was late afternoon when y/n woke up, she had worked a double late night shift after one of her managers called out. Climbing out of bed, groggy, hoping that her staff could handle the shipment coming in today, reluctantly checked her phone. Finding no calls from the afternoon staff, she considered it to be a small success, a small smile appeared on her face before walking into the living room to find Feyre on her ancient laptop typing away at her resume. 

“Morning” Feyre murmured with her brows furrowed in concentration as she slowly typed away. 

“Morning. Didn’t Tamlin get you the latest model from Night Corp?” y/n murmured sleepily. Taking a spot next to Feyre on the couch. 

“He did, but…” A deep sigh escaped Feyre’s lips “We broke up” she reluctantly met y/n gaze. “He proposed and I said no…” her face showed regret as she didn’t meet y/n’s curious glance. 

Y/n gazed at her, a look of pity for her friend on her face as she leaned her head onto Feyre’s shoulder. “I’m sorry Feyre. What made you turn him down?” 

“Funny thing is, Tam wanted a traditional housewife. Someone to plan parties, wear fancy dresses, and be pampered” Feyre explained, her tone tinged with sadness. “That’s just not me, I need room to grow. He was kind, but I think I really hurt him y/n” She shook off the sadness and continued with determination “So, I’m applying to Night Corp for a personal assistant position. How hard could it be?” 

“I’m here for you if you need anything…with the whole Tamlin situation. But I have to say, I’m proud of you for coming to that conclusion about what you want in life. That wasn’t an easy decision I’m sure.” Y/n gave her a soft smile before laughing softly. “You? Applying to a tech company, Feyre you had to ask me the other day how to download an app on your phone. Feyre you still use BuzzFeed!” Feyre playfully nudged y/n. 

“Buzzfeed will always have a special place in my heart, how else am I supposed to know what kind of pizza my zodiac sign is?” Feyre said with a chuckle “But seriously, the job pays well, and it can’t be that challenging, right? Plus, they’re on the rise. Word on the street is that their main office has a slide! How cool is that?” 

“I wish you the best of luck, I know you would nail that interview” Y/n grinned before getting up to get ready for her shift. “I have to be in early today, to help with the truck order. Let me know if you get a call from them, we can go celebrate!” Feyre gave a warm smile before slowly typing away at her cover letter. Feyre was absolutely awful with anything technology-based. 

After an hour of getting ready, y/n waved goodbye to Feyre and headed out the door. Locking the door to the apartment and heading down the hallway. Scrolling through her phone she bumped into someone. 

“Sorry,” she stammered before peering up at the man before her. Dark raven black hair with a slight curl that almost covered his eyes, a black face mask that hid most of his face, and hazel eyes that resembled burnt honey. He was beautiful, a classically handsome man. The man peered down at her roughly a whole foot taller and said in a voice that was so deep it sounded sinful. 

“You’re alright,” he murmured before gliding past her down the hallway back to his apartment. The sultry voice sent shivers down her spine. A blush had warmed her cheeks before she made her way to the elevator, their brief encounter replaying in her mind. Seemingly hypnotized by the deep voice, a melody she deeply wanted to hear again. 

Azriel returning from his run, sliding in the front door of the shared apartment, couldn’t shake the comforting scent of vanilla and coffee the girl exuded. 

Potions & Shadows (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: An old neighbor of Feyre's is revealed to be not who they seemed when Feyre was a child. Leadign to Feyre needing the once village apothecaries help. Inspired by Frieren: Beyond Journey's End.

A/n: I posted a preview a week or two ago. I enjoyed writing this one, I've been super busy at work and with a family wedding so probably won't have a part two anytime soon. Hope you enjoy! Thank you all for the support on my last few fics! :)

Word Count: 2.5k

Part two, Part Three, Part Four

Warmings: None? Let me know if there's any.

Feyre would often find herself lost in memories of their old neighbor, a mysterious figure from her childhood spent in the manor with her sisters. Little did she know, her encounter with the apothecary would soon unveil new mysteries. Years later, as Feyre bid farewell before their departure, she decided to revisit the familiar door, hoping to uncover the enigma of the past.

In the hustle of their impoverished days and the chaos of her transition to fae life, Feyre scarcely pondered the mystery. It wasn't until Nesta mentioned seeing the apothecary, unchanged from their childhood encounter, right before the human queen's arrival, that Feyre's curiosity stirred. She made a mental note to pay a quick visit to the apothecary's cottage down the road after their business with the queens concluded.

The meeting with the human queens did not end too well, though they did manage to secure the book. With Rhysand somewhat strict on their schedule, Feyre knew she couldn't risk being late. The crunch of the dirt path under her feet felt oddly familiar yet different in her new fae form. The smells of the pine trees now heightened, and the distant streams seemed closer than ever. Pulling her out of her trance, she arrived at the apothecary’s cottage.

The moss on the roof indicated the cottage had been there for centuries, perhaps even when the village was being built. Feyre walked up and knocked on the door, her heart pounding with anticipation. The shuffling of footsteps inside signaled someone approaching. When the door creaked open, Feyre was met with a familiar face.

A short woman stood before her, her scent unmistakably human, yet intertwined with a hint of something elusive. Her hazel green eyes, flecked with gold and blue hues, seemed to hold secrets as deep as the mountains' morning dew. The apothecary wiped her hands on her apron, stained with various herbs and powders, and greeted Feyre with a small sigh and a bright smile.

"It's you... but different?" she remarked, tilting her head curiously. Feyre released a breathy laugh. "Yeah, you could say I am a bit different... you're back," she whispered.

The apothecary moved aside, inviting Feyre into the familiar interior of the cottage. Bookshelves lined the walls, while towers of books stood around tables filled with bottles and concoctions. The atmosphere was comforting yet tinged with a sense of mystery. As the apothecary made tea, Feyre couldn't help but notice the intricate organization amidst the apparent chaos.

"No longer human, now a fae?" the apothecary mused as she prepared the tea. "Haven't seen that before." She smiled to herself, lost in thought for a moment before continuing. "I always thought you were human, I mean you don't seem fae," Feyre whispered.

"That's because I'm not fae, though I am considered a fae creature," the apothecary explained with a soft smile. "Long story short, as I have a feeling your companions only gave you a few moments to visit. I am half human, half-elven... one of the last of my kind."

Feyre looked puzzled before asking, "How come you don't age? I mean the human counterpart should... make you age, right?" The apothecary poured the tea, the pink hue swirling in the cup, before joining Feyre at the table. "You're right, I should age, but there's this thing called the 'settling.' It's based on mana. The more mana you have, the more likely to reach immortality."

The apothecary glanced up at Feyre with a soft smile. "I stopped aging around... don't know, maybe 19 or 20 years old?" Feyre looked at her in astonishment, trying to reconcile the fragile appearance with the revelation of her age. "How old are you now?" she asked softly.

You smiled, reminiscing about your past travels as you glanced at your spellbooks and then back at Feyre while taking a sip of your tea. "I am roughly 300 years old this year, give or take a few," you admitted with a hint of nostalgia. "You tend to lose count on the road."

Brushing your long hair aside, you pulled up your sleeve, revealing the insignia of an adventurer guild—a small blossom marking. "This is from my guild," you explained. "I'm a mage, so I embark on journeys from time to time. It's how I honed my skills in concocting medicines and remedies."

Feyre looked taken aback, unable to sense any magic radiating from you despite your mage status and half-elven heritage. She was filled with questions, but time was fleeting, and there was much to be done.

As Feyre finished her tea, she felt a sense of urgency creeping in. "Listen... there's something that might be coming, would you watch my sisters?" The apothecary met her gaze with a reassuring smile. "I leave tonight for another quest, but the wards should be stable around their house. I'll reinforce them before I leave."

With a nod of gratitude, Feyre rose from her seat, her mind buzzing with newfound revelations. Little did she know, her visit to the apothecary would mark the beginning of a journey fraught with unforeseen challenges.

******

Certainly, unforeseen challenges indeed. In fact, the wards failed to hold as Hybern seized Feyre’s sisters while you were away on your travels seeking new spell books, a hobby of yours. Across the continent, whispers of war spread like wildfire. Perhaps this was what Feyre had alluded to—a war brewing on the horizon? After completing your quest, you returned home to find a letter from Feyre—a proposition of sorts.

“War is coming, we need healers like you to join us. Let me know your response when you see this.” 

Magic paper? Intriguing, something you will inquire about later on. You write your response. Perhaps, a new adventure wouldn’t be bad. You’ve never visited Prythian before. Given that elves used to be seen as slaves there, that elves were seen to be just one step above humans, being a half-breed who know’s where that would place you. Feyre was kind though, you knew that from the moment you met her. A war would be brutal, if the fae were asking for help, that meant it would be serious enough to involve others. 

“Sure, I’ll give my commitment for a few years,” you wrote. The paper vanished almost instantly, leaving behind a faint scent of smoke—a curious phenomenon indeed. Moments later, a message appeared, promising someone would visit you at the cottage within hours. With a shrug, you began to pack your belongings, including spell books, herbs, clothes, and trinkets. You were prepared.

That's when you met Mor, a lively fae whose energy belied her formidable power. She winnowed you to the healer’s cottage, where Madja, the head healer, resided. Mor apologized and hurriedly departed, leaving you to converse with Madja. The healer welcomed you warmly, showing you to a modest room furnished with essentials. The bed with white bedding and an old green quilt laid on top. Madja pointed out that the nights here might be too cold for creatures like yourself. 

"Haven't seen a human in years," she remarked as she led you to the apothecary storage room. "But I sense something else about you," a twinkle in Madja’s eye hinted at her awareness of your half-elven heritage. You responded with a smile, "Most don’t catch on too quickly," you murmured.

Madja returned your smile, her expression warm yet knowing. "You're probably the last of your kind," she remarked casually, her tone tinged with humor. "Your kind was always more focused on mana and magic than finding love. Perhaps your human side will help you with that," she teased, reaching for a mortar and pestle.

"Now, kid," Madja continued, her demeanor shifting to business-like. "I want to see what you're capable of. Make a few hundred healing potions—some for minor cuts and bruises, and others for those foolish soldiers who find themselves impaled one too many times."

You immersed yourself in your work, with Madja checking in every few minutes to monitor your progress. Impressed by your efficiency, she peppered you with compliments, acknowledging your skill. Together, you labored until late afternoon, the sun casting long shadows across the cottage.

Feyre stopped by to offer a brief greeting before departing to attend to war preparations and assist her newly transformed sisters. Their transformation weighed heavily on your conscience—if only your wards had been stronger, perhaps you could have prevented their fate. Pushing aside the guilt, you ground a few more herbs, determined to focus on the task at hand. Or perhaps you were trying to push that guilt away by keeping yourself distracted. 

The soothing scent of herbs filled the room, mingling with Madja’s quiet humming—a melody unfamiliar to you yet strangely comforting. You found solace in the routine of potion-making, a respite from the chaos of the outside world.

As you worked, memories of your travels surfaced—the thrill of discovering new spells, the camaraderie of fellow adventurers, and the satisfaction of aiding those in need. Though your main quest was to collect spells, you found fulfillment in helping others, a testament to your kind-hearted nature.

Completing the last batch of potions, Madja introduced you to the other healers, who welcomed you with open arms. Over dinner, you exchanged stories of your respective lives—Madja sharing tales of her long existence, while you recounted your travels across distant lands. The other healers listened in awe, their curiosity piqued by your adventures beyond Velaris. Constantly asking questions of your adventures, asking about the dragons you’ve came across. About the handsome warriors that you went through dungeons with. A smile tugged your lips as you bid them goodnight and headed to your room. 

As you lay on your bed, enveloped by the chill of the night air, you found comfort in the warmth of the quilt that Madja had provided. Retrieving a book about defensive magic from your bedside table, you delved into its pages, seeking solace in the familiar words until sleep claimed you. 

****

As the end of the first week approached, you found yourself manning the desk, processing orders for sleeping tonics, stomach remedies, and various other mundane requests. It was the less exciting aspect of your work, but you understood the necessity of attending to such matters. After all, not every day could be spent brewing exotic potions and elixirs. Madja had left to replenish the inventory and wouldn't return until nightfall. Before her departure, she mentioned that someone from the court would be coming to collect a 'private' order and instructed you not to charge them.

As you cleaned the countertop, the door creaked open, and a chilling breeze swept into the room, carrying with it the scent of mist and cedar, tinged with a hint of blood. You looked up and found yourself locking eyes with a figure standing in the doorway. My stars, he was strikingly handsome in a deadly sort of way—a sight that momentarily stole your breath away. You recognized him as an Illyrian, though you had never seen one before. There was something about his wings that instilled a sense of fear in you, even though they remained folded tightly against his back, shrouding his features in shadows.

Azriel dipped his head in acknowledgment, his golden gaze piercing as he spoke in a low, almost hypnotic tone. "I am here to pick up a prescription," he stated, his voice like a captivating melody that seemed to draw you in.

You nodded, trying to maintain your composure as you retrieved the bag containing the requested item. It was a rare occurrence for you to feel flustered, especially in the presence of another. As you handed him the bag, your hands brushed briefly, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth flood your cheeks. The label on the bag revealed its contents—a contraceptive tonic. Oh... he was an active male too.

Azriel murmured his thanks before casting a lingering gaze over you, his expression unreadable behind his hand. As he turned to leave, you couldn't shake the feeling of self-consciousness. Did you smell bad? Was your human heritage too obvious to the fae? Such thoughts raced through your mind as the door closed behind him, leaving you to ponder the encounter long after he had gone.

****

Azriel departed for the House of Wind, where a family dinner awaited. Elaine had begun emerging from her room, while Nesta remained ensconced in her moody disposition. Lucien had ventured to the continent, leaving an absence felt at the table. Feyre was already seated next to Rhys when Azriel arrived, discreetly passing the tonic to Cassian, who muttered a quick thanks before Azriel settled in beside him.

"I didn’t realize Madja had taken on a new apprentice," Azriel murmured, his gaze shifting to Mor as she joined Cassian. Feyre glanced at Azriel, her curiosity piqued. "You met her today? She’s a friend of mine from the village. I knew her growing up," she explained. Azriel took a sip of the wine passed to him by Cassian, his mind wandering to the petite healer who had left such an impression on him.

Elaine's transformation from human to fae had only heightened Azriel's attraction to her, raising questions about his preferences. Was he developing a preference for humans? Could he handle the brevity of their lifespans? Feyre's voice broke through his reverie, drawing his attention back to the conversation. "She’s half-elf too, are they rare?" she inquired.

Rhysand nodded, his expression softening as he delved into the history of elves and their dwindling numbers. "They used to be slaves for the Fae, around the same time as the humans," he began. "Perhaps that's why she has never been to Prythian until now."

He paused, his tone softening even further. "Also, the elves were known to lack emotions, which led to them not reproducing that often, ultimately to their demise. There’s a few around, but not many anymore."

As food was placed on the table, Azriel found himself consumed by thoughts of the healer. Her scent lingered in his mind, reminiscent of cherry blossoms on a warm day. Though he had only met her briefly, he felt an inexplicable pull toward her that tugged at his heartstrings. It was a feeling he had never experienced before.

An idea struck him. "Don’t we need to deliver the potions to the camps? I could help with that tomorrow, I finished the reports," Azriel suggested, turning to Rhysand. A smirk danced on the high lord’s lips—a silent understanding passed between them. "If you want," Rhysand replied casually, gesturing with a wave of his hand. "Perhaps show her around Velaris while you’re at it."

Azriel nodded, anticipation stirring within him. Tomorrow promised to be an intriguing day, his shadows seemed almost restless to meet the little healer again. A new sort of feeling fueled both him and his shadows.

Between Worlds Part IV

A/n: Sorry for the short chapter! I'm going to be really busy this week with work so I won't have another update til next week probably. Next week's update with be part two of "A City of Dreams" and part five for between worlds. Thank you everyone for the love on the last one. Hope you guys enjoy a bit of Azriel's pov. :))

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five: Coming soon!

Summary: Reader wakes up in ACOTAR a year after the war with Hybern. A bunch of events happen that leads to them waking up in a one night stand with Azriel.

Trigger Warnings? None!

Work Count: 1.2k

‎‧₊˚✧ Reader POV ✧˚₊‧

Azriel left nothing but his scent of night-chilled mist and cedar lingering in the air. After he departed, you made your way into the estate, feeling somewhat dazed as you traversed up the steps and through the doorway. give Thoughts of your recent conversation swirled in your mind. How could Azriel be so considerate? He seemed to accept the bargain without too much hesitation, despite gaining nothing from it. Azriel’s unexpected acceptance left you feeling uneasy. Did he have a plan, or was he simply indulging on a whim? It was hard to tell with someone as enigmatic as Azriel. After all, to the fae, three months might feel like a mere blink of an eye. 

As soon as you stepped into the hall of the estate, your maid who seemed to be in a frantic mood quickly intercepted you as she caught your eye, her expression tense as she guided you to your bedroom. “Where have you been?” she chided softly, her grip on her apron betraying her nerves. “You’ve never done anything like this before, in all twenty-six years of your life. If your parents found out…why they would never let you leave again.” 

“I’m sorry…I stayed the night with Hazel,” The lie seemed to slip out, almost like muscle memory. A few thoughts occurred to you.

But what if you told her the truth? Would she be excited? How long has she been your maid? What even if her name? 

A small huff pulled you away from lingering thoughts. 

“You smell like a drunken fool, you look like one too. Bath, now” Your maid instructed, her tone firm as she closed the bedroom door behind us. 

“Thank you for covering for me” your voice barely above a whisper, as you made your way to the bathroom attached to your bedroom quarters. The words felt hollow on your tongue, weighed down by the guilt of deceiving everyone around you. Yet, somehow beneath the surface, a sliver of relief flickered, knowing that you had someone you could trust somewhat. 

Before you began to strip off the dress, you looked over at your maid who was searching your closet for a dress. You simply stated. 

“Could you find me a journal? One with a lock or a ward?” Your maid gave you a quizzical look and shrugged with a nod. A wave of her hand ushered you to quickly bathe as there was much to do today. 

‎‧₊˚✧ Azriel POV ✧˚₊‧

I winnowed back to the outskirts of the House of Wind, the rush of air exhilarating as I took flight. My wings unfurled to their full span, casting long shadows across the ground as I landed softly in front of the house. As I made my way to my room, a deep sigh escaped my lips, the weight of recent events pressing down on me. 

My mate

The realization still felt surreal, after all these years of waiting. Yet, despite my excitement, doubts nagged at the edges of my mind. Was she afraid? Last night, she seemed drawn to me, but today, only fear and concern marred her features.

What was she hiding? 

I understand my reputation proceeds me, as I’ve done horrible things. I’ve killed, tortured, and manipulated in more ways than I could count. I know I’m undeserving of a mate, one that seemed so perfect. Yet, somehow, I feel as if she already knows of the horrible things that I’ve done. The way her fingers would brush across my scarred hands as if they weren’t… horrible as if they hadn’t caused pain and hurt to the world. 

The shadows… I never expected them to be so soft

You seemed to see his shadows as a part of him, something to be cherished and praised. While others thought of them as something to be feared, something people shunned besides his family. Yet, how often did you think about his shadows, especially since you both have never met before? 

The chances of you two meeting were slim, it could have happened in passing. Your father is one of the government officials for Velaris. A kind man, though he had only spoken to him maybe once or twice. Though, I could never forget her if we had met, the way her eyes seemed to gleam up at me like stars. Eyes that made him feel safe as if he could drown in them from the warmness they beheld. 

For once, he felt like he could let his guard down, and it was a surreal feeling, one he was hesitant to admit. Perhaps, that’s why he trusts her so much that he made a bargain that didn’t benefit him in the slightest. 

Why were you so intoxicating? Occupying his mind like a drug? We had only just met, yet I crave you. 

The urge to send a few of his shadows your way to at least know that you’re safe. You seemed so trusting and naive, what if someone used that against you? Though he knew the terms of the bargain as he rubbed the small marking on his wrist. Didn’t mean he liked the terms. 

Azirel also knew he didn’t have to wait three months to see you, but you looked desperate for something. As if you lacked time, you’re fae? Privileged fae…you had all the time in the world. Therefore, what was causing that pretty little mind of yours to hesitate to be his mate? What did you need to complete before you both could be mated together? 

A distraction is what he needed. 

A curse was under his breath as he knew he was behind on reports that he needed to complete before the Starfall event with his family. He couldn’t let himself go crazy thinking of y/n and what she was doing. Perhaps, he would send flowers, maybe even a little shadow, one that he would command not to report to him but just so she knew he was still here…that if she needed him, he was a whisper away. 

A deep sigh escaped his lips as he ran his fingers through his raven black hair grabbed a piece of paper and wrote a note. An awful idea really, but how harmful would it be? 

My Dearest Y/n,

How you have ensnared me in your spell, I cannot fathom. Your very presence is a symphony of enchantment, weaving its melody through the fibers of my soul. For you, my mate, I offer these flowers to brighten your hangover, accompanied by one of my shadows. Fear not for I have commanded them to honor our bargain, refraining from any prying or divulging of secrets. Should you ever need me, simply whisper to the shadow and I will come to you at a moment’s notice. 

In truth, I am not one to resort to poetry or love letters, but for you, I would humble myself before the Mother. 

With all my affection, 

Azriel, your mate 

With a flick of his wrist, a silent command, the shadow obediently trailed off, carrying the letter. Azriel had commanded it to bring flowers from Elain’s garden as well. As he watched the shadow disappear, a deep sigh along with a curse escaped his lips. Despite the tasks awaiting him, his mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of you.

Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe, @why4anne, @impossibelle, @lilah-asteria

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Hey!

My name is Snail, happy that you found my blog. Feel free to stay awhile. I only really plan on writing fics in my free time for ACOTAR & JJK :)

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