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Chapter Text

Eris watched the sunset from the armchair in his office. Exhaustion fell over him after a long day of holding court, redacting a document for a new trading agreement with the Night Court, and supervising the army’s training. Although it had been four years now since his father’s death, the Autumn Court still had a long way to go. Prejudices, conservatism, and stubbornness were some of the things that gave him terrible headaches during the meetings with those nobles. The magic of the High Lord had chosen him of all his four remaining brothers, of whom he knew nothing of their whereabouts.

Only Lucien had come around, and they had cleared the tension between them a while after he’d settled into his new position. As the heir to the Day Court, his younger brother was both a powerful ally and someone he could rely on, one of the few people he actually trusted. He had worked hard to build relationships with the other High Lords, trying to mend the terrible impressions his father had left of Autumn, but in order to do so, he had to control those loyal to Beron, who seemed determined to see his downfall and one of his spiteful brothers take his place. They would be just a puppet under their command if that were to happen.

Eris was no fool, though. He had changed the laws, and those who dared go back to their old ways would face consequences. There was a reason he had such a cruel reputation throughout Prythian. He didn’t want to resort to it, but he would if need be. Not with his people, but with the upper class, the ones who thought they had a say in how he ruled.

He needed a solution for the politics of his court, but the more he thought about it, the clueless he became. He needed a vacation. Cauldron, he deserved it after working nonstop for years now. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d let himself have fun, to enjoy his court’s events, the restaurants, the cafes, the taverns his father rarely allowed him to frequent. Now, there was no one to stop him, and yet he himself hadn’t taken the time to do so.

He took a long breath, turning to his desk and staring at the pile of papers still waiting for his signature. His eyes traveled back to the window until he heard someone knock on the door.

“Come in,” he said, without turning back. “Lucien, you—”

“I thought you’d still be here,” said that voice that made him shiver. His eyes fell on the male across from him, on the large body and shoulder-length chestnut brown hair, on the casual stance and crossed arms. There was a smirk on the male’s face, as always. A know-it-all smirk, one that he’d come to fear and despise at the same time.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He snapped, scowling.

“So aggressive, sweetheart,” the male drawled, and Eris wanted to send a fireball to his face. “Don’t look at me like that, I know you’re happy to see me.”

As if, Eris thought. Eddar Thornhill was precisely what his name suggested: a thorn in his foot, one he seemed unable to get rid of. He had taken his father’s position as one of the noble counselors of the Autumn Court, right after his father had rebelled against Eris taking the throne. Unfortunately, killing him would look bad, since he was one of his greatest supporters in the council, and always voted in his favor.

What got to his nerves, though, was that the male thought he had the right to peek into his private life, and what was worse, to press him into marrying someone. More specifically, him.

“What do you want, Eddar?” Eris said, sighing and pinching the space between his brows.

“Cold. Call me Eddie, like the old times. What are you doing tonight? Let’s hang out.”

“I have work to do, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to go back to it,” Eris said with a boring expression, straightening himself on the armchair.

“Am I to understand you are avoiding me, baby?” The fucker winked at him, reaching closer.

“Stop calling me that,” Eris cut in. “You have no right to think I’ll ever have anything with you again.”

“You wound me, Eris,” Eddar said with a hand over his heart. “I told you why I had to break up with you then. But now that our Court has new laws, there’s no one to say you can’t marry me.”

The fucking guts he had… Eris’s eyes pierced him like daggers. He absolutely hated how the male referred to the Autumn Court as ‘our’, as if it were theirs to rule. He truly had no shame in suggesting such a thing after what he had done.

“It’s not happening,” Eris rasped. “Not with you. Ever.”

Eddar reached closer, and Eris’s body went on high alert. He always had that damned reaction when he was near, his body still remembered what he’d endured because of him, and it pissed Eris off to not being able to kill him. He was a fucking High Lord, and he couldn’t kill this one male, the one who’d given him a permanent mark, on his body, in his soul.

“You are going to need to marry someday, you know that? Why not me? You wanted it, then,” Eddar reminded him.

“I was a foolish brat to think what we had was true. That you had feelings for me. You only want the position; you and I know that. So spare me the speech, it’s not going to happen,” Eris stated.

Eddar lunged forward, grasping Eris’s throat, and his eyes widened. “Is there someone else?” He snarled, and the redhead’s fire reacted, sending the male a good feet away from him.

“Even if there was, I wouldn’t tell you,” Eris growled. “You lost the right to know anything about me.” He stood, circling his desk, and forcing his body not to flinch, not to coil in fear as he stared down at the male. “Touch me like that again, and I won’t hold back next time. I’ll show what exactly my reputation is, Eddar.”

Eddar only smirked at him. “You’re incapable of hurting me, Eris. If you could, you would have already done so. It’s fine, I’ll wait, sweetheart. Until you’re ready.”

With a mocking bow as farewell, the Lord left his office, and Eris sighed in relief. Thank the Mother, his heart hadn’t raced this time. His attention fell back to the window, watching the beginning of the night fall. He couldn’t keep on living like that, only working and letting himself dwell in a past he wanted to forget. He needed to think about himself, too.

With that in mind, the High Lord of the Autumn Court grabbed his coat from the hanger and closed the door behind him as he left the room. Let him go to that tavern that his father so explicitly forbade him to go to, have some drinks, and enjoy dancing. He wouldn’t complain if the night turned out to be one of pleasure, either. He needed a distraction.

• • • • • • - - * - * - - - * - * - - - * - * - *-

[Song: Hands on - Austin Giorgio]

Azriel stirred the liquid in his glass with a lazy hand. The loud music in the Autumn tavern threatened to burst his ears, but he didn’t care. That was precisely why he kept coming to this place, one he had found out about a year ago. He stared at the bottles by his side, unable to count how many he had drunk. Good. That way, he wouldn’t remember a thing the next day. Oblivion was a merciful God for people like him, so desperate to get rid of the thoughts in his mind, so pathetically taken by fear and a taunted past.

He had no perspective at this point in his life. War was over, the Seven Courts were closer to reaching good terms. Even Tamlin had risen back to his position, seeming to get better from the darkness that had engulfed him for years. The only other Court to give them any trouble had been the Autumn Court, which was now under Eris’s command. However, since taking the position, the male had changed a bunch of things in the Court after his father’s death, and Autumn was now changing into a better place. The cool, yet warm weather of Autumn had always been Azriel’s favorite season of the year, and so, he had started coming more often now that the borders weren’t so strict anymore.

The world was calm, finally breathing after enduring such destruction under power-hungry rulers. But for Azriel, that peace, although good and desired, was not good. No, it erased his goals; it took purpose away from him. There was not much to protect these days, people to spy on, or stirring trouble. Thus, he had nothing but time on his hands to decide for himself how to put it to use. Boredom was an unfamiliar feeling, one that made him feel numb, useless, and disposable. He had nothing better to do with his life, no purpose other than sharpening his skills and protecting his friends.

That peace was good for everyone but him. He didn’t know how to live in a world that wasn’t chaotic. Chaos was his long-term friend, a companion to give his days meaning. Without it, his existence was pointless. For the past year, his life had gone down a path he didn’t know how to rise from anymore. Drinking past his senses, fucking strangers, female or male, playing games until dawn, lunging into fights. What a waste of life. Who was he to judge Nesta a few years ago if he had done worse? Well, at least he was putting all that absurd amount of money Rhysand insisted was his paycheck to use.

Azriel raised his hand to order another bottle, but ended up changing his mind. If he put his body into motion, the alcohol would disperse a bit, and then it would be perfect to start another round. He looked around to find a victim for his fists. One punch to a random person, and then a circle would form around them to watch the fight. His eyes settled on a red dot in the dancing crowd, swaying a long braid around. The male’s figure was strong, judging by the tight wine red clothes that hugged his body, and that was all he needed to place before heading there.

His eyes were unfocused, and he was unable to discern facial features as he pushed his way into the crowd. His fist was ready to punch that face when the male’s hand grabbed his curled fingers, as if he had sensed his attack long before. Azriel cursed the alcohol; the hell would something like that have stopped him in the past, so he tried locking his ankle around the redhead’s leg to make him lose balance and fall. Instead, the male entered a rock-like stance, spinning him and locking both the shadowsinger’s arms around his waist.

Azriel was stunned for a while, stumbling as the male started to move to the rhythm of the song, pressing his back against the shadowsinger’s chest. The Illyrian tried to pull off, but he hissed when that curvy ass rubbed against him, the sway of those hips sensual and seductive. His breaths became ragged as he changed his goal for the night, for he had just found a prey, though one of a different kind.

He released his hands from the stranger’s and dragged them along his waist, bringing his head down to the male’s neck, licking his skin and swinging his hips along with him. It suddenly struck him, the male’s scent. He sniffed a few times, trying to decipher what he smelled like. It was a mixture of spice and sweet, something like caramel? No, maybe vanilla. He bit the male’s neck, earning a groan that awakened a feral desire in him. He moved his tongue and sucked, entranced by that scent. There was definitely cinnamon and clove, too. It was the richest smell he’d ever sniffed, and that made Azriel decide he was taking this male to bed tonight.

Wanting to check if he tasted that lusciously, the shadowsinger turned the male in his arms, grabbing the back of his head and taking him in a kiss. Oh, fuck. That mouth was pure sin, and as Azriel parted his full lips to lace their tongues together, he let a moan out at the confirmation that, yes, he tasted the same as he smelled, even better. He devoured the male’s mouth, tunneling his fingers in that long braid, pulling it slightly to bend his head back and deepen the kiss. Azriel growled as he felt the male was hard, their bodies pressing together and rubbing against each other, only peaking his arousal.

There were rooms upstairs, he knew that. Had been there a few times, with different people. He abandoned the male’s lips, only to pull him towards the staircase. Without climbing the first step, Azriel lunged for his mouth again, pressing the redhead against the wall and gripping his ass, drinking in his grunts. He wished to lift him and carry him the rest of the way, just so their bodies didn’t need to untangle, but Azriel wasn’t sure his legs wouldn’t wobble. The alcohol still fogged his senses, so he grabbed the male’s hand and dragged him up.

They hadn’t spoken a single word, but the shadowsinger preferred it that way. He would probably not remember the guy the next morning, anyway. Some of the lovers he’d taken enjoyed talking and tried to get to know him, but the Illyrian was unfazed. He found good ways to keep their mouths shut, but it seemed that tonight he wouldn’t have to worry about it. All he wanted to hear were the sounds of pleasure, and this male’s groans had Azriel wanting to find out what he sounded like moaning aloud.

They entered the private room, and Azriel locked the door behind him before spinning the male and pressing him on the wood as he launched for that ivory neck, biting and sucking the skin. The redhead moved his hands to Azriel’s shoulders and suddenly asked, “Do you know who I am?”

His voice was elegant, and the low tone in which he spoke made the hairs on Azriel’s arm rise.

“I don’t care,” he muffled against his throat, licking the male’s Adam’s apple. “I don’t need to know you to fuck you.”

“You seriously don’t recognize me?” He asked again.

Azriel grabbed his chin and said, “Less talking, more action.”

He slid his tongue into the male’s mouth again, groaning at his delicious taste, wishing to put his mouth on the rest of his body.

“Hm, in that case…” The redhead drawled as he parted the kiss, biting Azriel’s lower lip. “May I do as I please? Is there something I’m not allowed to do?”

“Anything but the wings. Don’t touch them,” he warned, gripping that curvy ass.

He felt a shiver when the redhead suddenly laced his waist and pushed him back, making Azriel stumble until he fell on the bed. The male came above him, smirking, and said, “Alright, no wings.”

Azriel grabbed him and kissed him hard, opening his thighs to fit the redhead between them, locking his ankles at his middle, grunting as the male pulled his hair back and moved his mouth down to his neck, sucking his skin while his hands rid him of his clothes. One by one, pieces of fabric pooled on the floor, and the shadowsinger drowned in the redhead’s warmth, overwhelmed by the pleasure he felt at every place their bodies touched.

The male left a trail of kisses on Azriel’s chest as he descended, sucking his nipples, licking his abs, until he reached his hard cock, leaking with precum already, anxious for a nice blow job. Azriel moaned when the redhead closed his mouth around his dick, taking half of him in and sucking him hard. It was wet and soft, and the shadowsinger gripped at his red hair as the male flicked his tongue on his cock. His mouth was so warm that Azriel arched his back, tightening his grip, bumping his hips up to meet each sucking.

Pleased by his body’s reaction, the male licked his cock and his hand took his mouth’s place. His tongue slid down on him, playing with his balls while those long fingers stroked his erection. His hand was warm, and the roughness of that callous palm fisting him made him hiss. Another moan escaped him when the male’s wet touches reached his entrance. The redhead inserted his tongue into him, slicking his ass, then breached him with a finger, curling it up slightly, moving in and out while sucking his balls.

Azriel had been on both ends, though he was usually on top when he lay with males. Yet, this one seemed to know what he was doing, because that finger wasn’t just stretching him. No, it was hitting precisely where he liked, and once the male studied his reactions, once he got hold of how to make him moan more, he thrusted a second finger inside. The shadowsinger released his hair to grab the sheets by his sides, closing his eyes and losing himself in those sensations. To his delight, the redhead swallowed his cock whole while fucking his ass, plunging into him and learning his body. Breathing in hard, Azriel contorted as the male took control of his body, and as release built up, he spurted in his mouth, unable to hold back, his whole body trembling as the orgasm took him.

The male came up to face him, holding his chin. “You’re beautiful,” he said. “I can’t decide if I take you right now or let you fuck me first.”

Azriel pulled him for a kiss, tasting himself in his mouth, enjoying more than he would admit to kissing that male, to be enveloped by that spice-sweet scent.

“I’ll fuck you later, now finish the job,” he ordered.

He heard a chuckle, then the redhead moved to his ear and whispered, “Remember that you asked for this, Azriel.”

He didn’t know how the male knew his name, although many people all over Prythian might recognize him. However, he didn’t care right now. He wanted to delve into pleasure and forget all the rest. He watched as the redhead pumped his own cock, slicking it with oil, and positioned himself between his legs.

He wasn’t ready for the strike as the male’s cock found his prostate in the first thrust in, and Azriel screamed, lunging his head back, biting his lips as the redhead started moving inside him. He closed his eyes, feeling every inch of that cock stretching him, the faint pain giving place to unprecedent desire. It was so rare to find a good lover, someone who took time to find out his weak spots and heighten his pleasure. This male was good, very good at what he was doing.

He seized Azriel’s waist and slammed hard into him, that elegant voice echoing his moans as their bodies met each other. The shadowsinger moved his hips along with him, yearning for more, wanting to see how much better that male could make him feel, wanting to get lost in that body, wanting to taste more of him.

He pulled the male down, wrapping his arms around his neck and searching for his lips, for his perfect taste. Azriel kissed him, his tongue exploring every inch of the male’s mouth. His legs were folded back, and the Illyrian moaned louder as the redhead’s cock reached deeper into him. The male gripped his thighs while they ravished each other’s mouths, and Azriel dragged his teeth along his lips, his chin, biting him there, huffing as he watched the male’s face sunk in pleasure.

Suddenly, the redhead retreated and sat on the edge of the bed. His eyes found Azriel’s as he pointed to his erected cock and commanded, “Ride me.”

Aching with desire, the shadowsinger stood, sitting on the male’s lap, his back turned to him, and grabbed the hard dick under him, guiding it to his entrance. Without a warning, Azriel slid down on his cock and moaned, hissing as the redhead grasped his waist and lunged up, meeting him halfway there. The thwack of his ass colliding against his hips made Azriel see starts, for the Cauldron, he didn’t remember the last time sex had felt this good.

He rode the male’s cock, letting instinct guide him, bucking his hips and supporting himself on the redhead’s knees while he moved. He loved the sensation of those heated hands traveling along his back and abs, their warmth making his body feel more sensitive, and his arousal crawled at his skin. Soon. He was going to cum again, and it was going to be intense, he wasn’t ready for it.

As if sensing it, the male lunged forward, making him stand, grabbing Azriel’s arms and holding them back, thrusting into him roughly and fast. The shadowsinger cried out, wishing his legs didn’t fail him now.

“W-wait,” he tried to say, but the male snarled, plunging his cock harder, working him faster, and as he was fucked like that, as that dick reached so fucking deep into his most sensitive spot, Azriel’s release erupted, his cries of pleasure taking the room as his spill shooted on the floor. Waves of pleasure coursed through him as the male moaned and kept going, kept slamming into him until hot gushes filled his ass, gorging him full.

Azriel felt like his body would collapse, so he moved forward. The redhead’s cock plucked out, cum leaking between his legs, but the shadowsinger wasn’t embarrassed nor ashamed. Why would he, when he didn’t remember the last time he’d had an orgasm like that? He lay on the bed and gestured to the male to join him there.

It wasn’t usually what he did in the pauses between rounds, but for some reason, Azriel found himself cuddling with the male, wrapping his arms around him and nuzzling his nose on the top of his head, taking in his scent. His fingers went for the redhead’s braid, untying it, and he marveled at how soft the red strands were. He tunneled his hand into his silky hair, sniffing it while the male’s hands traveled along his chest, pressing against him. He was warm, and Azriel felt a sense of calmness he’d long forgotten.

It might be the alcohol playing with his dizziness, and as he waited for his body to get ready again, he moved his mouth down to the redhead’s neck, licking it slowly, provoking him, pulling his hair back as his tongue explored his skin. Azriel thrived at the low moans the male let out, which made him feel more committed to the task. He kept trailing the redhead’s neck and ear, passing an arm under his head to hold his chin. The other slid down on his chest, pinching his nipples, palming his abdominal muscles, drawing each of his curves until he found his way between the male’s butt cheeks.

Azriel sucked his finger and carefully breached the redhead’s entrance, drowning in his moan. He seized the male’s throat, holding him still as he sucked and bit his neck, his finger moving in and out. Azriel growled when that tight ass squeezed him, feeling his cock hardening once more. That body, that scent, those moans, all of it was too tempting, and so, the shadowsinger had a second finger plunging into the redhead, anxious to fill him with something bigger.

The Illyrian removed his fingers and grabbed the male’s thigh, lifting it, and said, “Hold here.” The redhead did so, and Azriel bit his neck hard as three fingers thrust into him. The male cried out, panting hard as the shadowsinger stretched him. Azriel snarled in his ear, “Your voice… let me hear it. It’s sexy as hell.”

“Azriel,” the male pleaded, giving him exactly what he wanted, and Gods, the sound of his name moaned like that was his undoing. The shadowsinger removed his fingers and pumped himself, getting ready to go in. The male gave him the vial of oil he’d used before, and without delay, he slurped his cock. He fit himself into the male’s entrance, then grabbed his thigh from under his knee and plunged all his length into him.

“Ah!” The redhead cried out, his head falling against Azriel’s chest, and the shadowsinger held him firmly by the throat, ducking his cock deep, hissing at the tightness. The male was so fucking warm, his interior squeezing him so hard that Azriel had to hold on a bit, he had almost cummed. “Move,” the male snarled, “Fuck me.” Yeah, there would be no slowing down

For the mother… Azriel snarled, speeding his plunges, forgetting about everything, too taken by that male’s body and scent and moans, too lost in that pleasure. Too bad he didn’t sleep with the same person more than once, because this one, he might want to. Many times. He didn’t think he would get enough with just a night, but he burried that thought down as he fucked him hard, sinking his teeth on the redhead’s neck, breathing in his scent.

It was not enough; he needed to be deeper, needed those moans to get louder, untamed. Azriel unplucked himself and brought the male to lie on his stomach, bucking those nice hips for him. The shadowsinger parted his butt cheeks and buried his face there, licking the hole he’d been fucking, penetrating it with his tongue, drinking in the strangled sounds the male let out. Gods, he tasted delicious, he could spend a good few hours sliding his tongue on all of him. His grip on his ass tightened, and he flicked his tongue, soaking the male’s entrance.

Azriel stood on his knees and spread the male’s legs, positioning himself behind him, growling as the redhead swayed his hips as if anxious to take his cock in again, taunting him.

“AH!” With one thrust, the shadowsinger buried his cock to the base, moaning aloud as he heard the male scream. Something awakened inside him, something feral and primitive, and unleashing his control, Azriel grasped those hips and lunged into him, fast, rough, and wild, letting go of any restraint.

There was nothing on his mind but this pleasure, nothing in his heart but desire, nothing in his body but that ache, that need to find release, that urge for the relaxation that came after amazing sex. Azriel fucked the red-haired male like he rarely allowed himself, for very few people could make his arousal reach such a level, make him want to surrender to pleasure like this. This male had something about him that made Azriel burn inside, something about his warmth and toned body that had him want to burst into flames.

Azriel’s hand went for the male’s cock, and he fisted him roughly as he kept slamming his length into him, feeling release building up again, his body trembling in expectation. The redhead spread his legs more, opening up for him, his head lying on the mattress and his hair disheveled on the sheets, making Azriel more anxious to spill into him. The Illyrian bent down, pressing his chest against the male’s back, gripping the redhead’s throat and holding his face as he inhaled that spice-sweet scent, burying his cock deep as his hand pumped the male’s dick.

The redhead started shaking under him, his hands fisting the sheets, and Azriel kept fucking him hard, the fwop of his hips hitting the male’s ass sending throbs along his spine. A loud, dragged moan filled the room, and the redhead came hard, spilling himself again and again in Azriel’s hand, shivering as pleasure engulfed him. At that, the Illyrian could hold on no more. He retreated, and grasping the male’s hips, he fucked him hard, thrusting again and again until his orgasm exploded, until there was no cum left to pour, until the male was full with his seed.

Azriel sat on the bed, trying to get hold of his breathing, satisfaction coursing through him at his cum pooling on the mattress. He pulled the male up, who was still a bit disoriented, and plopped on the pillows with him again. He didn’t know when his lids started to feel so heavy, nor did he feel sleep come easily. All he hoped for was that this numbness lasted, and for the first night in a long, long time, Azriel slept like a rock.

Chapter Text

Eris opened his eyes and blinked a few times to adjust to the light filling the room. He felt a weight over him, a heavy arm over his waist, and a rich scent of pine and snow reached his nostrils. The High Lord looked to the right, taking in the male lying by his side. The shadowsinger was deep in sleep, his mouth half-open, his features soft, and his body splayed on the bed, occupying almost all of it with those large wings. He could have admired his sleepy face, were it not for the fact that Eris was almost falling off the mattress.

He untangled his body from Azriel’s arm, sitting at the edge and studying the Illyrian’s features, so different from how he usually saw him. It had been his first time taking a winged lover, and surely, Eris had never expected it to be him. Azriel hated him, even in the years after everything with Morrigan had been cleared out and their Courts had made amends, the spymaster was not his biggest fan. He didn’t mind, of course, he was used to people despising him.

Last night, though, it seemed that his decision to enjoy himself had been taken seriously by the Mother, because not only had Eris had fun dancing, he had found an excellent sex partner. He didn’t remember the last time he had been that satisfied after lying with a male. He tried to stand, but his legs wobbled and he fell back on the bed. Eris felt his ass hurt slightly, the reminiscent of their night of pleasure fucking each other now coming with the bill. A soft curl of lips was all he allowed himself before standing up again.

The High Lord dressed himself and combed his long hair, taking some time to untangle the knots, and still, Azriel hadn’t woken up. Eris watched his handsome face, wondering how much he had to drink last night, since the male hadn’t recognized him. He should have, at least his voice, but the shadowsinger hadn’t cared, and when he had kissed him, Eris didn’t find it in him to push him away. Azriel was very attractive, toned as he liked, his dark hair and hazel eyes gave his elegant features a sexy air, which was why the redhead had gone with him to the bedroom. He wouldn’t deny that he had let his imagination run there in the past, when he and Azriel crossed paths. There was something about him that made Eris curious. He'd always been drawn to mysteries.

He welcomed that distraction, had enjoyed their night to the fullest, but now it was time to come back to reality. He had no idea of how Azriel would react once he woke up and found him there. Eris didn’t want to deal with his anger or with pointed fingers as if he’d done something wrong, as the Illyrian usually did. So he decided to spare Azriel and himself from an unpleasant reencounter. He summoned a paper and a brush and left a message for the male before heading out of the bedroom.

The tavern’s owner immediately recognized him when he reached the bottom of the staircase, and Eris waved the male off when he started to bow. “Please, there’s no need,” he said. “Is there anything still to be paid for?”

“Your companion, My Lord, but he always pays, you don’t need to worry,” the owner rushed.

“How much?” Eris required, then placed a bunch of gold coins on the counter. Curiosity sparked through him as he asked, “Does he come here often?”

The male averted his eyes, not sure if he should share information about his customers, but Eris was the High Lord, after all. So he replied, “Not frequently, but I’ve seen him here a few times in the past year to remember him. He usually knocks himself out drinking or starts a fight at the bar, or ends up going upstairs with someone.”

Eris’s brows knitted. The shadowsinger surely was a peculiar character, he would have never guessed he led this kind of life apart from his missions. Eris had quick reflexes and saw when the male was about to punch him out of nowhere. Was that truly necessary? What did he expect to achieve by fighting him? Eris had been stunned when the male suddenly accepted dancing with him instead, starting to tease him and run his hands along his body. Making out in public with a male showed him that Azriel didn’t care about others seeing him, however, he wondered if the Illyrian was coming to this tavern for the same reason Eris had. To get a distraction, to forget about things.

Eris left the tavern and, instead of winnowing back home, he decided to go for a walk. People recognized him, some waved in greeting, some averted their eyes and avoided him, some smiled, some watched in wariness. Eris didn’t mind being stared at, he knew his people were still afraid of him because their last High Lord had set clear boundaries regarding the commoners. Beron hadn’t mixed with the rabble, and he looked down on everyone who didn’t have noble blood coursing through their veins.

What would he think of Eris going to bed with a bastard, then? He smiled, enjoying the thought of his father’s raging face at that. The High Lord entered one of the cafes that had just opened, taking a table by the window to appreciate the view of the maple leaves falling from the trees. He ordered, then summoned a book while he waited for his breakfast to arrive, enjoying the peace of that morning. His body felt relaxed and at ease, and he was secretly thankful for Azriel. He hoped the male got home well later. It wasn’t long before someone stopped by his table and sat in front of him. Eris looked at his brother, whose lips were slightly curled up.

“Look who has decided to take the night off,” Lucien said, propping his chin and resting his elbow on the surface. “Had a great time? You look renewed.”

Eris closed his eyes, smirking. “I found unexpected company last night. You’d be shocked.”

“Care to share?” Lucien’s russet eye studied him intently.

“I will keep this one for myself,” Eris winked. “Don’t be such a gossip.”

Lucien shrugged, thanking the attendant who brought their coffees and sipping from his cup. “There hasn’t been much to learn about your life, you’re becoming so boring, brother. What do you do other than work these days? I already offered a hand, and you still keep doing it all by yourself,” he pointed out.

“I’ve waited for so long to be in my current position that now I’m afraid that, if I stop, everything will crumble,” Eris admitted, appreciating the creamy coffee he’d ordered.

“Things take time to change, and you won’t get to it faster by exhausting yourself to the bones. You can manage both your personal and work life if you decide so. I was able to switch between three roles and still took time for myself. You need to learn to do it,” Lucien raised a brow at him.

“I know how to do it, I just didn’t want to,” Eris replied, crossing his arms. “But I get your point. Yesterday I realized that I need some time off. Forcing a solution to come to mind when I’m full of worries might not lead to what I wish, so perhaps I could take a vacation.”

Lucien smiled, “Sure you can. I’ll oversee things in your stead. Elain and I can stay in Autumn for the time being,” his brother offered.

“I thought of something this morning,” Eris said, playing with a strand of his hair. “Would you rule in my place if I decided to take a sabbatical year?” He asked, and Lucien’s eyes widened. “I was thinking about traveling for a while, getting to know other places, how they work, their culture, their laws, getting inspiration everywhere for what the Autumn Court can become. And since you are quite the traveler yourself, I’m sure your ideas would do wonders for the Court while I’m away.”

“I… I’m honored you think me suitable for the job, but what of the nobles you’ve been having trouble with?” Lucien asked, worried.

“We’ll be in touch, brother. Send word, and I’ll come back to deal with them if they step out of line. You can always ask your father’s help, if need be. He’s experienced in these matters.”

“Right. Where will you go, then?” Lucien inquired.

“No idea yet. You can make a list of suggestions,” Eris said, holding his brother’s gaze. “But perhaps I’ll ask Rhysand for a quick stay in Velaris as my first stop. I never got to see the city after years of our agreement.”

“Not sure if you’ll like it, but it is a beautiful city. It’s worth a shot,” Lucien nodded. “Are you really doing this, then?”

Eris stared at the street, drinking in the view of the Capital. He loved his Court, but being some time apart might be good. He needed to distance himself from the things that reminded him of his past, of those nobles who stressed him, of Eddar’s persistence in getting back together. He needed quality time alone to enjoy the beauty of the world before he came back to his role.

His eyes fell on Lucien again as he said, “I will. But I’ll leave everything in order for you, and whatever you need, I’ll be just a message away.”

Lucien saw his determination and understood his need to get away from this place, at least for now. He knew his brother had enjoyed his position of emissary precisely because the constant moving around helped him heal from his past, helped him open his mind to the possibilities. Now it was Eris’s time to see the world and what it had to offer.

--------------------

Azriel grunted at the first awakening movements of his body. His head throbbed like hell, and the room smelled like sex. He dragged his arms up and tucked them under the pillow, hiding his face from the light. What time was it?

He turned his head to the side, noticing that no one was on the bed with him. He had no recollection of how he had gotten here, whom he had picked from that crowd this time. But judging by how well he had slept, how relaxed he felt, it must have been good. When he flipped to sit, though, his ass ached. Ah… A male, then. He studied the room, finding his clothes pooled on the floor and a piece of paper on the nightstand. Azriel grabbed it and found a message for him.

Thank you for the night.
I’ve already paid the check.
I don’t know if you will remember me when you wake up, but I’ll surely remember it, Azriel.
P.S. You look cute when you sleep. E.

Oh, great. The guy knew his name. He just hoped it wasn’t someone irrational who started drooling after him because of a night together. Whoever this ‘E’ was, Azriel had no intention of repeating what they’d done. Sleeping more than once with someone only led to emotional attachment, and he was sick of it. It never ended well for him.

He analyzed that handwriting, and he could swear he had seen it before. He didn’t know why he folded the piece of paper and slipped it into his pants’ pocket. The shadowsinger rose to his feet, put on his clothes, and winnowed out.

.

The midday sun saluted him as Azriel landed in his apartment in Velaris, a quiet place close to the mountain. He’d picked one close enough to the House of Wind and Rhysand and Feyre’s residence to make it easier to fly or winnow there should there be an emergency. He went straight to the bathroom to get the fluids of last night out of him, but as he removed his shirt, there was a lingering scent there, one he couldn’t help but want to sniff again.

Flashes of the night came to him as that spice-sweet smell filled his nostrils. He remembered the male had long red hair, remembered the sound of his moans, and somehow, his body heated. Azriel didn’t warm the water as he entered the bathtub and sank into the cold, holding his breath, then emerging after a few seconds. He cooled down, and he remained in there until his hands started crinkling from the water.

A while later, as Azriel was sitting on the living room’s couch, staring and staring at the ceiling as if an answer to his boredom would suddenly appear there, a dark presence reached for his mind. Rhysand.

“Are you home?” His brother asked, and there was concern in his tone.

Azriel hated to make anyone worry about him, but he hadn’t been able to hide his miserable state from Rhys and Cassian. It had always been like that; his brothers pushed, tried to get him to talk, but the shadowsinger didn’t let his emotions be a topic in their conversations. He didn’t want to hear life guidance advice, nor how he could find happiness if he did this or that. He didn’t work like that; forming bonds with people was unnatural, and letting them get too close was unthinkable. He didn’t know how he’d managed to make such good friends, but the person he was as a young Illyrian was far too distant from the person he was now.

The way he saw things, his remaining friends were from his youth. He hadn’t been able to make new acquaintances other than Feyre’s sisters, nor did he really care. As his past weighed on him, Azriel was sure there wouldn’t be many people willing to be friends with him should they know what he could do, what he had done. Very few people didn’t balk at his mere presence, at the shadows lurking around him. Cruelty was splayed all over him, and for that reason, this peaceful world seemed to have no place for him. He would only taint its light with his darkness. For someone like him, chaos outside settled the chaos on the inside, sharpening his focus. Peace, though, made that internal chaos rot him his soul.

He finally replied to his brother. “Yes, I am.”

“Come to the House. Everyone is here,” Rhysand said. “Have lunch with us.”

Azriel sighed. He didn’t want to see them. He loved his friends, his family, but lately, it had become too overwhelming to see their happiness. He was the only one to remain single, even some of the priestesses in the library, after becoming Valkyries, had started to open up to love. Going to events with them was like a slap on his face. He wouldn’t admit that he envied their joined hands on the couch, their frequent smiles to each other, or the casual, affectionate touches.

Who would want to do that with him, anyway? Everyone he had ever considered trying had already picked someone else. Mor, after centuries of hiding her sexuality, had found out Emerie to be her mate, and since then, she had come out to them. Azriel didn’t understand why he had been the only one surprised at the fact. Elain, although there was a time the shadowsinger spotted her glancing at him and thought it was a love interest, it turned out to be mere lust. After pushing Lucien away for so long, the female had decided to give her mate a chance, and she was now living with Lucien in the Day Court.

“…Alright. I’ll be there in five.” Azriel answered, and Rhysand’s darkness faded from his mind.

It was wiser to go and pretend he was fine than avoid them and risk people banging at his door later. Cassian would be the first in line to check on him, and the shadowsinger wasn’t willing to go through a scolding session.

He checked his outfit in the mirror before flying out of his house, and soon, he was at the sparring ring of the House of Wind. There was laughter coming from the dining room, and Azriel mentally prepared himself. Perhaps he would need another distraction later, to help silence those thoughts, that raging envy, that ugliness inside him.

He descended the steps and found the dinner table full. Nine pairs of eyes fell on him as he came into view, and Cassian was the first to wave at him and point to a seat by his right. On the other side was Mor, who offered him a smile. Azriel walked to take his place on the table, noticing the talking from before was now more discreet and contained. He wondered why they had stopped.

He briefly studied the people at the table, seeing Mor and Emerie, Rhys and Feyre, Cassian and Nesta, Amren and Varian, and then Gwyn. The red-haired female was alone, but it might be because Tarquin had been busy. Every time Azriel tried to piece that relationship together, he was sure he would be forever alone, because how come even Gwyn, after everything she had endured, and being still so young, had won the heart of the High Lord of the Summer Court? The female he’d saved in Sangravah years ago was far away from the vibrant version of her now, full of goals and dreams.

When he looked at himself, he felt pitiful. More than five centuries on his shoulders, and not once had he been able to build a relationship. He didn’t even know how to start. There must be something wrong with him, for all that fear of commitment, of truly give himself to someone in the way his brothers did to their mates. It was too scary to let anyone see all of him, to talk about his past. He knew it was necessary in a long-term thing, but he wasn’t really open to it. So all he had managed throughout the years was having feelings for people out of his reach, because that put him in a spot that basically annulated any kind of future. Watching from a distance, yearning for it but not really taking any step forward, was some sort of comfort zone for him. He knew the people he chose wouldn’t choose him back, since the beginning. It was great, because it was predictable. It was nice to know what to expect, to have control, even though he never got what he wanted. What he wanted didn’t matter at this point. Why bother?

Azriel kept silent most of the meal. He had no news, nothing to update them with, no curiosity or anything fun to add to the conversation. So he listened to them talking, forcing himself to endure it a little bit more. He could do it for them, give them a sense of normality before returning to his silent bubble at his apartment, until night fell. Then he would let the beast out.

--------------

Two weeks later, Eris had a full year planned for the Autumn Court’s management delivered to Lucien, who gawked at the file in his hand.

“You are scarily good at this,” his brother pointed out, and Eris offered him a mocking smile.

“I do have more than five centuries of experience, little brother. I never waste time,” the High Lord stated, crossing one leg over the other and reclining on his armchair. “You know how to contact me should you need anything.”

Lucien nodded, making the folder disappear in the air. He then looked at Eris and asked, “When are you departing?”

“Probably tomorrow, or later this week, I’ll see. Still need to figure out a route,” Eris replied.

His brother chuckled, “You don’t need to plan the whole trip, you know. You can just go and figure it out along the way.”

The High Lord didn’t bother to tell him that planning was so wedged into his being that just “letting go” wasn’t a possibility. Planning was all he had ever had as a line of defense, a way to fight inside his father’s rotten Court, and he had been doing it for so long now that even for daily tasks, he simply had to plan his day beforehand. He needed at least an idea of where he was going and what he would need.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and at his permission to enter, a sentinel barged in.

“I’m sorry for interrupting, My Lord, but there has been an issue,” the male said, his eyes on the floor as he bowed to Eris and waited.

“Rise, Alden,” he commanded, and the male obeyed. “What is the matter?”

“A building has just crumbled downtown, and the owners demand payment.”

Eris frowned. What now… “And who was responsible for this particular incident?” He asked, playing with a loose thread on his black embroidered coat.

“I wasn’t informed, My Lord, but they claim it wasn’t an Autumn Citizen, that’s why they are requesting your presence,” Alden replied, his body stiffening as if afraid to bother him with a trivial matter.

“I can go in your stead,” Lucien offered, but Eris waved him off.

“I’ll deal with it. Let’s see who dares trouble the peace.” With that, Eris gestured for the two males to follow behind him as they headed outside. “Let’s get the horses.”

--------------

Ok, maybe he had gone over the edge this time.

As dust faded around him, Azriel studied the damage he had caused, and he was sure he would be banished from the Autumn Court as soon as word got to their ruler. The shadowsinger could only guess how Eris would react once he saw what had become of a four-level building, full of galleries and small shops in the city’s center. And what the High Lord would do with him.

He cursed his bad temper these last days, but now, there was no turning back. He had no excuse, no explanation for his reckless behavior, so all there was to do was to take responsibility. Would he be able to afford it? Gods, he hoped so, he didn’t need Rhysand to get word of it.

A crowd was gathered around the debris and crumbled stone, analyzing the situation, keeping a good distance from him, from his shadows. He had kept to himself in a shadowy corner, his dark presence enough to cause uneasiness in everyone, and as he’d expected, someone had already come to fetch the High Lord to assess the situation and decide his punishment.

He heard the clip-clop of horses approaching, and his eyes fell on the three red-haired males coming into view as the crowd parted for them. The black stallions were of the purest breed, proper for a Court’s ruler, standing proud as they stopped in front of the crashed building. The two males flanking the one in the center dismounted first, studying the damage. One of them, Azriel recognized, was Lucien. The other might be a sentinel or a Lord, he didn’t care. What did catch his attention was the last male, still atop his horse, his black clothes trimmed with gold in an elegant cut, sharpening his figure. His amber eyes flickered in flames, his face cool and vicious.

Azriel felt his stomach drop at the long, braided hair falling over the male’s right shoulder. No, it couldn’t be… It had to be someone else wearing a braid that night. He watched the High Lord of the Autumn Court dismount, adjusting his black gloves as he came between his escorts.

“Someone care to explain what happened here?” Eris asked, his elegant presence emanating heat and power. The shadowsinger gulped. He didn’t like that male, and he hated the fact that he held all the power to make his life miserable. However, his hands were tied.

A tall male came forward, and Azriel snarled as he saw the bastard he had mopped the floor with until minutes ago. He explained the situation to Eris, pointing to Azriel, lying that the Illyrian had started the fight, conveniently leaving out that he’d tried to humiliate him for being a bastard. When the male offended his mother, Azriel saw red. He might have thrown the first punch, but it hadn’t been unprovoked. Who was he kiding, he was no better than the Illyrians who came to places like this, raging beasts with no self-control. He despised being one of them, and yet had been shamelessly acting like a brute.

Eris listened, his left brow rising in a question, but then he scanned the place, his eyes finding Azriel at the end of the crowd. A corner of his lips tugged up as the High Lord studied him with a feline look.

“I hadn’t taken you for a troublemaker, shadowsinger. You used to have such an impeccable reputation,” the High Lord started, crossing his arms. “Is what this male says true? Have you crashed this building with one punch? I don’t know if I should feel perplexed or concerned.”

Azriel stepped out of the shadows and came into the light, walking to where Eris stood. People parted for him, scurring away from his dark aura, but the High Lord was not impressed by it. When had he ever? The redhead was tall and lean, his body toned and built for battle, yet all Azriel saw was that braid, trying to piece his fragmented memory together as he stared at the High Lord with raging eyes, his lips pursing together in annoyance.

The shadowsinger used his two extra inches to his advantage to pierce the redhead’s gaze. “I won’t deny that the crumbling is my fault. But one, its structure was already fragile, full of cracks along the walls. And two, I don’t take offenses lightly. Ask him what he said.”

Azriel could swear there was wicked amusement in the High Lord’s eyes as he studied him. “Temperamental, I see. Both of you, for the looks of it.” Eris turned to the owner of the building, to the storekeepers who had lost their businesses in the blink of an eye. “Do you have the sum of what was lost?” He asked.

One of the owners gave Eris a paper with their calculations, and the redhead ran his eyes through it, his lips pressing together sensuality. The shadowsinger hadn’t paid attention to the shape of Eris's mouth before, and he didn't know why he was getting sidetracked by it now.

Eris looked up at Azriel and said, “I don’t think you’ll be able to pay for this. Twenty businesses were running inside the building, and all these people have lost their jobs. All because you two brainless, so-called grown-up males couldn’t keep your cool around each other.” Eris tsked, shaking his head in disbelief. “I should lock you up to reflect on your behavior for a few years, but instead, I’ll make you two useful. Those angry fists have just earned you hard labor, congratulations.” A mocking smirk crossed his lips swiftly. “You will help rebuild this in record time. You have two weeks to rise this place back anew, or there will be consequences,” the High Lord threatened, and his fire magic crackled around them. “Especially for you, shadowsinger. Wouldn’t want to put your High Lord in a tight spot regarding our alliance, if I were you, so don’t test my patience.”

“And if I refuse?” Azriel dared, clenching his fists by his sides.

Eris gave him a bored look. “Let’s hope the brute can use his brain for once. You are in no position to do so.” The male reached closer, coming face to face with him, and Azriel felt as if lightning had struck his head when the redhead’s scent reached his nostrils. Holy fuck. His eyes widened, and Eris smirked at him. Of course, the bastard knew. He'd said he would remember. Azriel should have recognized his face, his voice, even his handwriting. How drunk had he been, for fuck's sake?

“You are in my Court, and you’ll answer to our laws. And I am the law here. Which means, Azriel,” he dragged his name, and the shadowsinger pressed his lips together as flashes of a few nights ago popped in his mind. “That you’ll do as I say. Unless you want to pay two hundred thousand gold marks for the damage you caused.”

The Illyrian cursed himself, closing his eyes and sighing. He found Eris’s gaze again, wanting to rip that arrogant smile off his face, to make him swallow his cockiness. To tame him and make that face crumble under him, make him scream. He stopped that line of thought. He had a self-imposed rule of not sleeping with the same person more than once, and sure enough, he absolutely didn’t want to repeat it with Eris, not even to prove a point. Having slept with the High Lord of Autumn was already bad enough.

When he didn’t reply, Eris chuckled, grinning to both him and the fucker behind him. “I expect you both to be here at dawn, starting tomorrow,” he said, and with that, the High Lord turned and headed back to his black stallion. Taking control of the reins, Eris mounted and looked down at Azriel, whose eyes still shot daggers at him. He opened a cruel smile as he stated, “Don’t be late.”

Chapter Text

Azriel felt sweat dripping from his back and tickling his skin as he raised a large block and set it atop the structure he had been building for the last days. Since Eris had defined that they had two weeks to get that work done, the shadowsinger had just accepted his fate. He arrived every day before dawn, following the plan of the new building as the stonemason instructed them. It wasn’t as if he could sleep more than four or five hours at night, so he had welcomed the physical tiredness that came with lifting bricks and flying with heavy things from one place to another.

His magic was depleted by the fourth day from being used nonstop, and now, only brute strength remained. Azriel barely rested, though. Exhaustion meant silencing his mind, meant a dreamless night of sleep. And it was healthier than drinking himself to oblivion and picking fights with strangers. He should learn from this situation, try to do better, and yet, there was nothing he truly wished to do, nothing he felt a slight interest in.

The son of a bitch working with him kept his distance, dragging piles of wood and paint on the other side. Asshole. Of course, he’d let all the heavy, rough work for Azriel to do, but it wasn’t as if he could complain. That was his punishment, and he was sure the High Lord of Autumn would find something even worse to torture him with should he learn of his annoyance.

He hadn’t seen Eris since that day. It had been Lucien who stopped by sporadically to watch over their work, glaring at Azriel as if disappointed. Fuck him. He had everything already, his years of suffering now long gone and filled with the happiness he could share with his mate. The shadowsinger had never thought there would come a day in which he would feel envious of Lucien, of all people, after pitying the male’s tragic past.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead, removing his shirt and using it to dry his face. He tied it to his waist and turned to grab another large brick when his eyes found a polished pair of boots in front of him. His gaze trailed up the body standing before him, all dressed in black and wine red, trying to grasp why his shadows hadn’t warned him of a presence, until he stared at fiery amber eyes and a crooked smile.

“Having fun?” Eris teased, crossing his arms, his eyes drifting aside to study the half-built structure.

“What are you doing here?” Azriel replied as he followed his way past the High Lord, his voice devoid of emotion, cold and indifferent. “Don’t you have High Lordly things to do?”

Eris found a seat atop the pile of bricks, crossing his legs elegantly while he watched the Illyrian from above. “Actually, I don’t. I’m about to start a long vacation,” he let out.

“Good for you,” Azriel said with mockery, and carried the block and set it next to the last one, peering at the High Lord. “So you came to say goodbye? Just be gone,” he sneered without turning to the male, tracing his steps back to continue his task.

“I’ve delayed it for a few days. Wouldn’t want to miss your daily torture,” Eris winked.

“I’m glad you find it so amusing,” Azriel replied coldly, but wore a cruel smirk as he said, “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were here to peek at my body covered in sweat.”

Eris chuckled, toying with his long hair falling as a silk curtain on his chest. “Exactly. It’s very satisfactory to be able to both torture and take a nice look at you.”

“I don’t take anyone to bed twice,” Azriel cut in, but his body went on alert as he felt observed.

“Who said anything about that?” Eris replied, crossing his arms in amusement. “You may be pleasant to look at, but you lack a decent personality for me to wish to repeat it, shadowsinger. You ruin the mood.”

“Oh, because your personality isn’t twisted,” Azriel snapped, scowling.

“Never said it wasn’t,” the male replied, shrugging. “Aren’t you done hating me?” He suddenly asked, and Azriel turned to face him.

“Why, does it bother you?” He sneered.

“Nope. Just curious, though, why you hate someone who hasn’t done anything to you.”

“This ‘job’ suggests otherwise,” Azriel ground his teeth.

“You dug your own grave with this one, don’t get me started,” Eris pointed, lifting his chin. “You know very well I could’ve done much worse.”

“How merciful,” Azriel taunted. “I think I just realized what it is that I hate about you.”

Eris arched a brow. “Oh? And what is it?”

“The fact that you always need to have the upper hand, the final word. Your shitty arrogance makes your presence spiteful,” the Illyrian declared, rage flowing through his words. Yeah, he should be watchful when offending a High Lord, but screw that. He didn’t care.

“You didn’t seem to find my presence spiteful some nights ago,” Eris smirked, unaffected by his words.

Azriel wanted to rip that cocky smile off Eris’s face, if only because the male had a point. It had been amazing sex, after all. However, had he recognized the redhead, he wouldn’t have acted so recklessly, let alone taken him to bed. But he knew better than to attack a High Lord. He didn’t want to extend his punishment for another week.

“It seems to me that you are the one who hates to lose, Azriel,” Eris continued. “I’ll say, winning does feel nice, but winning against you is even better. The fact that you are so annoyed only makes it more enticing.”

The shadowsinger didn’t deign to reply, focusing on his sore muscles and the feel of dirt and stone powder covering his chest and arms. Silence dragged for a while, until Eris dropped to the floor and stood on his feet again, tapping his ass to remove the dirt. Azriel pretended his eyes didn’t fall on the High Lord’s backside, pretended a flash of his bare back hadn’t popped up in his mind.

“Take the day off tomorrow,” Eris broke the silence, stopping in front of him. “All this could be done with magic, and you are depleted. Rest up, then come back.”

“No need,” the shadowsinger snapped. “I just want to get it over with and be free of you pestering me like this.”

“Let me rephrase that,” Eris smirked, giving one step closer, his eyes blazing with that savage fire that threatened to burst out of his skin. The power emanating from him made Azriel shiver, his instincts telling him to bend, and he hated it. “It’s not a suggestion, it’s an order. If I see your face here tomorrow, I’ll drag you to a cell and lock you there until your magic is recovered. You’re not going to do a shitty job here when there are people who depend on this building.” Eris turned on his heels and trailed away, sliding his hands into his pockets. “You’re off tomorrow, Azriel.”

Azriel burned the male’s back with his stare, but he didn’t reply. It would be pointless. Eris didn’t understand. He didn’t get his urge to push himself to the limit until numbness took him to a comfortable, drowsy state. He didn’t know what it was like to want to crawl out of his own skin and never return. But the shadowsinger resumed his work. This would be over in a week, and he wouldn’t have to deal with Eris Vanserra again.

--------

Eris stood in front of a rucksack and neatly folded clothes and tools to bring along on his trip. Although he could use his magic should he forget anything at home, he wanted to feel what it was like to rely on fewer things, to feel like an ordinary traveler. He studied the newly bought compass, the binoculars, the maps, and his most treasured object: a symphodisk.

Ever since his mother had gotten back with Helion, the High Lord of Day had gifted him one of his Court’s last developments. A symphonia, but a new version of it. It was a round device whose magic trapped the songs inside, but differently from the original symphonia, the symphodisk came with two earplugs, which played the music only for him to listen.

Eris truly enjoyed that device; it was his best companion in his busy days, when he couldn’t spare time to frequent the theater or watch the Autumn Orchestra in person. He smiled to himself as he set his mind on his priorities for that trip: enjoy music from all Courts, from the continent, from every place he had never been to. This device would capture them all, and the High Lord would treasure it forever.

He packed everything he would need, then strapped a few of his favorite knives to his waist and leg. Not that he would need them in a fight, but he liked to be prepared. He looked at the window, the mid-afternoon sun filtering through the maple leaves and painting the earthy floor red, making him feel homesick. He would miss his Court, this place that awakened his fire and lit his soul, despite all the terrible things that had happened to him. No, the Autumn Court was not to blame for his tainted past. Some bad people weren’t enough to change how much he loved his Court, and to preserve its beauty, to make it bloom again, Eris would travel.

He would learn and study and observe all there was to know about this world. He was finally free, and immortality beckoned to him with a warm invitation to live. To experience things. There was nothing more that he desired. Eris pulled the thread to close the pack and threw it over his shoulder, then headed to the door. He would stop by his office to say farewell to his brother before departing for his first destination.

When he opened his door, though, he wished he had just winnowed out.

Eddar opened a smirk as he studied his outfit, his pack, and his braided hair. “Going somewhere, darling?”

Eris pushed past him, closing his door and lifting a shield around his bedroom. He knew better than to let people peek into his private things. The brown-haired male followed behind him, unfazed by his non-answer.

“I heard that Lucien is taking hold of things during our High Lord’s sudden absence,” Eddar started, walking by his side now. “Where are you going?”

There was a subtle threat in his tone, one that very few people would notice. But Eris knew Eddar better than anyone. The male thought of people as his possessions. When he set his eyes upon someone, he would act like the charming Lord he had been raised to be, pouring flattery and gifts and honeyed words until the person fell for him. However, once in his grasp, you were no better than a toy for him to play with until he got bored with you and found a new entertainment.

Even after years of their breakup, Eris still cursed himself for having fallen for someone like that. He should have seen past the pretense, but that part of him that wished to be loved had been too weak to resist the male at the time. He had truly believed in the future Eddar promised him, that his change in behavior after making him fall in love was due to the Court’s pressure, that it would get better, that everything would get better once they were married, once they eliminated all the threats.

That had given Eris reasons to endure that relationship as it was. But Eddar was a future faker. He had had no intention of keeping his empty promises; all he wanted was an easy prey, someone with power for him to control, to manipulate into getting him what he wished. Eddar had seen how caring Eris was and had used it against him. He had used his loyalty and compassion to play with his feelings, to mine his self-esteem for years.

The worst was that Eris would have let him keep doing it weren’t it for that day he had found out the male had been cheating on him for a while. Eddar held a firm grasp on Eris’s leash; he wasn’t allowed to even spare a look at another male, and yet, Eddar was constantly flirting around, then denied it, making the redhead question what he saw and heard. That mental exhaustion and self-doubt had nearly broken him, and he had no wish to return to that dark place.

Now, years later, Eris wished to laugh at his stupidity. How come he had once felt like he had no purpose in life anymore because of a male? When had it come to that point? It was laughable and pitiful at the same time. Lucien had asked him many times why he hadn’t killed Eddar for all he had done, and he questioned himself sometimes for the same reason.

The answer was that, even though Eddar had hurt him, he had played a part in his life in helping him be who he was today. Without him, Eris might have let fear and pain take his life away, and so, he couldn’t kill the male out of gratitude. He chose to see the good in him, for the male cared for the Autumn Court and was skilled in many things. He just wasn’t husband material, nor a good choice for a partner.

Eris finally answered back, “None of your business. I count on you to support my brother in the council while I’m away.”

Eddar grabbed his wrist and spun the High Lord to face him. “Where are you going, Eris?”

Eris snatched his hand away, scowling at him for his boldness in continuing to touch him like that. “You don’t get to know where I go anymore. You’ve lost that right a long time ago. You should try your luck with Stella again. Perhaps she’ll take you back now that she’s queen,” he said with acid in his words.

Eddar reached closer, his chestnut brown eyes darker as he snarled, “Don’t say that bitch’s name. She meant nothing. You mean everything. You’re mine, Eris. No matter where you go, I’ll find you.”

“I’d think twice before threatening me,” Eris retorted, trying to keep his voice calm, but his body shivered at the ice in Eddar’s voice.

“And I’d think twice before running away, darling. Everything I did was for you. You can throw your tantrum now, but I know you’ll come back to me.” A cruel smile spread on his face. “You always do, in the end. It’s fine, don’t tell me where you’re going. I’ll find out on my own. I do like to hunt my prey.”

Eddar didn’t give him a chance to respond before he winnowed away, leaving a shaking Eris planted in the corridor. The High Lord clenched his fists, rage coursing through him. He was tired of being weak in Eddar’s presence. Tired of letting his body show how scared of him he was. But no matter how much he tried to hide it or to use his authority, Eddar still saw him as a small child pretending to be a grown-up.

For that male, his being the High Lord meant nothing. It was a title Eddar wanted for himself, he saw it unfit for someone like Eris, so “softhearted”. Even the reputation Eris had built for himself as a cruel torturer didn’t work on him. Eddar knew who he was at his core, and he saw past Eris. For that reason, Eris felt caged, threatened by him.

It was time to heal from that, to be away and free himself from the shackles of his past.

--------

At the end of the two weeks, Azriel could take no more of the dust and pebbles getting stuck inside his clothes. He silently offered a thankful prayer to the Mother for ending that torture as he watched the result of his hard work. Despite the exhaustion, the building was back anew, it was even beautiful in that beige tone, contrasting with the crossed pillars of wood of the classic Autumn architecture. Azriel wouldn’t admit to anyone that he found those kinds of buildings charming.

Eris hadn’t passed by, so the shadowsinger guessed he might have started his so-called vacation. Another blessing. He waited for the owner of the place to dismiss him, and in moments, he was back at his apartment. His nose crinkled at the smell of two weeks without a good cleaning, without doing the laundry or washing the dishes. His depleted magic and tiredness hadn’t allowed him to do anything other than shove the first thing he saw down his throat, take a cold shower, and faint on his bed.

He could have hired someone to do the house chores, however, he hated bringing people there. He had never invited anyone to his apartment, not even his family. That place was his hideaway, where he let his ugliness out, and having strangers see things he didn’t want to show them, well, that wasn’t an option.

His sore muscles screamed as he started piling up that mess, starting with the dirty laundry, then the kitchen, then the floor. It took him four hours to have his house back on livable again, which could have taken one hour if he had his magic. He stretched his neck, went to his bedroom, and took out a set of clean clothes for the night. He should sleep, should have something sustainable to eat, should rest. But he didn’t want to linger at home when those thoughts would assolate him.

He filled the bathtub and added a fragrant salt of pine tree to the water. Another thing he wouldn’t let anyone know about him, that he liked scented stuff. His house being smelly was rare, for he couldn’t stand weird scents for long. The bath was one of the few moments he enjoyed in his day, for those fragrances calmed and relaxed his mind.

He dressed up and took a quick look at the mirror before strapping his boots and heading to the door. The cool night breeze kissed his face as he stepped outside, unfurling his hair. He hadn’t bothered taming it, it never stayed put for more than five minutes. He prowled the neighborhood, coming alive as the City of Starlight’s night attractions started.

The shadowsinger pondered what he should do, where to go. For some reason, that night he didn’t feel like going to a tavern and falling into oblivion. He found his feet taking him to the Palace of Moonlight, to watch the orchestra that played there at least twice a week. The large dome in the amphitheater amplified the sounds of the instruments, which enriched the songs, making them echo throughout the chamber.

But again, no one knew he liked going there, that music was such an essential part of him. Going alone meant he could let go of his emotions and feel whatever needed to get out as the songs were played, be it bad or good things.

He walked along the streets with his hands in his pockets, looking up at the sky as millions of stars stared back at him. Would his life ever get better? Would he ever find something to fuel him again, to give him purpose, to make him wish to live? This city, this place he’d helped protect for so long, he wanted it to feel like home as it used to. However, he couldn’t explain why he felt like something was missing, and that Velaris couldn’t give it to him.

He was one of the last expectants to arrive, finding a seat in the last row at the back of the amphitheater. He got into a comfortable position as the lights went out and the conductor swung the baton, calling the musicians to action. The sound of the instruments tuning together made the hairs on his arms stand up. He loved that part, the expectation it awakened in him.

[Song: The Legend of Ashitaka]

The drums pounded in a strong beat. A short silence. Another beat. Then the cellos and the bass entered, followed by the oboes and low choral voices, voices in the background, echoed. Azriel almost let tears fall as violins, flutes, and all the other instruments came along together, filling the entire space with one of the most beautiful songs he’d ever heard.

Trumpets sounded, and music flowed, into him, out of him, around him, touching his soul, calling him to a long forgotten place, to that small part of him that held beauty, that bloomed whenever music was played. He closed his eyes, humming quietly the melody along, unable to keep his voice fully contained. He wanted to join those voices behind the instruments, wanted to release his baritone as he sang and sang like there was no tomorrow.

He let himself float in those notes of wonder, imagining what kind of story they might be telling, what had come to the composer’s mind as he wrote the sheets for that song, joining so many instruments with such perfect harmony. That song sounded like a calling, like a lulling melody, but also one that invited him to board a boat in the sky, to explore the vastness of the world.

Go, live, it seemed to say. See the wonders, ride the clouds, welcome the unknown.

How desperately Azriel wanted to wrap this song to replay it later, to perhaps let it help him start his days, see if this feeling could remain with him for a while longer. As the last beat of the drums echoed and the song came to an end, a round of applause followed, little lights floating above the orchestra, illuminating the spectacle.

Another song started, but Azriel caught a sparkle by his side at the corner of his eye. He turned to his left. His expression might have been one of shock and perplexity as he stared at the smirking face of the High Lord of Autumn, sitting on the chair next to his. He was dressed casually for once, in a black shirt and white trousers tucked into long black boots. It did nothing to hide the male’s elegance, though. Eris swayed his braid back as he tilted his head to the side, studying the shadowsinger’s attire, but he said nothing.

“Why are you here?” Azriel murmured, scowling at him.

“Same reason as you, shadowsinger,” he replied lazily.

“Not here. In Velaris,” he added, narrowing his eyes.

“Don’t worry, I was told you finished your job. I’m not here to drag you to my court or anything. I’m just appreciating the music, no need for you to be so defensive,” Eris pointed out, arching a brow at him as he leaned on the chair’s armrest, propping up his chin.

Azriel noticed the male held something gleaming on his lap, his eyes wary at the strange round device.

“What is that?” He asked, his gaze locking with Eris’s in a threat not to cause trouble.

Eris smiled, even though the look Azriel gave him was anything but pleasant, and for a moment, the shadowsinger lingered on those lined white teeth, on the beautiful curve of his lips.

“My song collector. I’ve been trapping music for my personal collection now that I’m on vacation,” the male shared, a lilt of excitement in his voice.

“Hm…” Azriel mumbled. He couldn’t help himself as curiosity made him open his mouth again. “How does it work?”

“You tap here,” Eris pointed to the small circumference under the device. “And it will record the songs you want. Once you’re done, you press it again, and then touch the top. But it only plays on the two eardrums that come with it,” he explained. “Unfortunately, I don’t have them here now to show you, but you attach them in your ears and only you can hear the songs.”

Azriel was in awe and now very interested in purchasing one for himself. “Where did you get it?”

Eris chuckled at the interest in his eyes. “They are not sold. I got it from one of my acquaintances.”

“Ah…” Azriel said, lowering his eyes as disappointment crushed his expectations of having such an amazing asset.

“It’s the first time you’ve spoken to me without a threat or teasing,” Eris remarked, and the shadowsinger looked back at him. “So you can be civilized,” he taunted.

“Don’t force it,” Azriel retorted, frowning at him.

Eris let out a low laugh. “If you wish, I can lend it to you for one day while I stay in the city,” the High Lord offered. “As a thank you for your hard work in raising that building.”

Azriel watched him, crossing his arms. “You being nice kind of scares me,” he said, shaking his head.

“And how would you know how nice I can be when you’re always snapping at me?” The male replied with a smirk.

“Hm. I didn’t think you had it in you,” the shadowsinger shrugged.

“You know nothing about me, Azriel.” There was something to the way the redhead spoke his name, something raw as his voice reached Azriel, sounding somewhat different. He wouldn’t admit to having liked hearing his name come out of the High Lord’s mouth, ever. “Truce?” Eris inquired, extending a hand to him. “While I’m in Velaris?”

The shadowsinger stared at him for a while, absorbing the male’s figure, and indeed, there was nothing wicked about him. It hadn’t been since he’d become High Lord, if Azriel was being sincere. But despite still having his doubts about Eris, he was very much interested in getting one of those song collectors. He could… try… to be nice to him for a while until he got what he wanted.

With that, Azriel gripped the hand Eris offered him, squeezing it as he replied. “Truce. For the time being.”

Chapter Text

The crowd slowly dissipated after the spectacle was over. Azriel and Eris waited for the people to leave, not wanting to be squeezed in the middle of them. The shadowsinger glanced at the High Lord, who tucked that song-trapping disk into his pocket and rose to his feet, straightening his shirt.

“You heading out somewhere after here?” The redhead asked him.

“Home,” was all Azriel offered. He was exhausted, and the songs had helped soothe his internal chaos enough for him to get a good night’s sleep.

“No dinner?” Eris insisted. “I doubt you ate anything before the concert,” he remarked.

“Mind your own business, Eris,” the shadowsinger retorted with a scowl, not wanting to prolong the conversation, if only for irritation not to crawl back into him.

“Geez, alright. I would just grab a bite on the way back to the apartment I’m renting for the month,” the High Lord explained. Oh, great. A month of risking crossing paths with him in Velaris.

“Hm,” Azriel mumbled, then started walking towards the exit.

Eris trailed after him, and they turned onto the street to the left.

“Do you enjoy concerts like this?” The redhead asked, strolling by his side.

“Hm,” the Illyrian agreed, giving him a curt nod.

“Have you seen the Autumn Orchestra?” Azriel shook his head, and Eris went on, “You should definitely go someday. I’ve been sparing funds for the theater, and since last year, the performances have been spectacular.”

Azriel could tell how much Eris enjoyed music for the excitement in his tone, the curl of his lips, and the light in his eyes as he spoke.

“I thought you would banish me from your Court after the recent events,” the spymaster reminded him.

“If you’ve learned your lesson, there’s no need for it,” the High Lord shrugged. “I don’t want the Autumn Court to go back to being isolated. The borders are open now, and will remain so.”

Azriel didn’t reply, letting those words linger. It was generous of him, but he wouldn’t say so. He then realized that the male kept following him, so the shadowsinger turned to him with a cold expression.

“Why are you stuck in my shadow?” He asked.

“My apartment is this way. Am I not allowed to use the same street as you?” Eris replied with an arched brow.

“Where are you staying?” Azriel inquired, narrowing his eyes.

“What was it you said? Mind your own business.” The mocking tone didn’t go unnoticed, but Azriel let go. He was too tired to argue.

Halfway down the next street, they arrived at a bustling square. The High Lord stopped at one of the food stalls to order something to take home, apparently, and Azriel didn’t know why he’d bothered to linger in the corner, waiting for the redhead. He needed to know where the male’s apartment was so that he could avoid it. Or barge in to ask for the disk as Eris had promised.

Ten minutes later, Eris traced his steps back to where Azriel was, with two bags in hand.

The High Lord smirked. “Still snooping around, hm? Can’t lose the habit?”

“I’m just making sure you’re not doing anything stupid,” the shadowsinger pointed out, resuming his walk.

“Right, because I’m the one crushing buildings and picking up fights with strangers,” the redhead remarked, shaking his head. “Who left you unsupervised, Azriel?” He asked. A snarl was the shadowsinger’s only response, and Eris chuckled. “It didn’t used to be so easy to get under your skin. Where’s the stone-faced male who constantly threatened me?”

If only I knew, Azriel thought, his eyes locked on the path ahead. Since he remained silent, Eris didn’t make any more comments, getting the message. He didn’t want to talk. A while later, Azriel stood in front of his building, and was about to climb the stairs when he noticed Eris was still following him.

“Aren’t you headed to your place?” The Illyrian asked in confusion.

“I am. This is my building,” the High Lord replied, pointing a finger at it.

Azriel murmured a curse. It couldn’t get any worse, could it? How would he avoid Eris if he had picked the very same building he lived in?! Clenching his fists, he took the stairs without looking back, reaching the last floor where his apartment was. For his despair, steps sounded behind him, and he spun on his heels to watch Eris unlocking the door to the apartment next door. Oh fuck.

“Seems like we’ll be neighbors,” the High Lord grinned, but it wasn’t his usual mocking tone. Eris raised one of the bags he was carrying and offered it to Azriel. “Since you’re so stubborn to eat, here.” He grasped the shadowsinger’s arm and placed the package in his hand. Before entering his place, Eris winked at him. “Have a nice rest, Azriel.”

With that, the door closed, and Azriel remained still in the corridor, looking at the bag in his hand. For some reason, his chest warmed at the gesture. He stared at the door of Eris’s apartment, asking himself why the male had done such a thing. He had been nothing but unpleasant and rude to him. Hadn’t shown him any kindness. And yet, the High Lord had bought him food despite his refusal earlier, had offered to lend his device. Why had he bothered?

Azriel closed the door behind him and headed to the kitchen, grabbing a plate, silverware, and a glass of water before settling atop one of the tall stools on the counter. He didn’t have a table there, nor did he have tables for eating with other people anywhere in his house. The two matching stools here were a set, and the Illyrian had only bought them because they weren’t sold individually, and that design had caught his attention.

He only lit a single faelight as he opened the bag and unwrapped the two boxes inside. His stomach growled at the smell of fresh food, and Azriel’s mouth watered as he beheld the meat risotto in front of him, a generous portion. The other box, he realized, was a slice of cranberry cheesecake, creamy and crunchy if its aspect was suggestive enough.

Azriel wasn’t a big fan of sweets. Though since this had been a gesture of kindness, he should at least finish the whole meal. He ate slowly, and the faelight started to gradually fade. When the risotto was gone, the shadowsinger sat in complete darkness, only the moonlight filtering through the windows illuminating his living room.

He stared at that slice of pie and took a bite of it. A tear rolled down his face at the creamy taste, reminding him of a distant past, when someone made him such sweets, caressed his cheek, and whispered I love you to him. Another tear fell as he kept eating, almost with rage as he shoved the cheesecake down his throat. A scream was lodged there, but he wouldn’t let it out, not again. It was painful enough to have to live with that knowledge, to know his mother might never do or say those things to him again.

He shut down his thoughts. Tonight was supposed to be a good one, but as soon as he was left alone, as soon as darkness had fallen around him, the beauty of the music didn’t last long enough for him to fight against it. He was pathetically weak. Strong enough to crush dozens of enemies at once, but weak against his fractured mind, weak against dealing with his feelings and the feelings of others.

After so many centuries, after all he’d experienced, he should be able to raise a wall around himself, to detach from what others felt. But he was too weak. Too sensitive. Too affected by what he was told, by how he was stared at.

Where’s the stone-faced male who constantly threatened me? Eris had asked.

He never existed, Azriel thought. A stone face was the only thing he could manage to defend himself against the suffering in the world, against pain and cruelty. He’d never told his brothers how he vomited his guts out after every time he had to torture someone, especially the ones who knew nothing or were truly innocent. He’d never liked that part of his job, but it was a way to make himself useful and help his Court, help protect good people. Better for one person to carry this burden than many people tainting their souls with blood and anger.

Better this burden fell on him, someone without any personal dreams or goals, someone willing to be used as a tool, than on those with a whole life planned. Azriel had tried and failed to kill that part of him that felt too much, cared too much, to the point his own life didn’t matter. He would willingly sacrifice himself for another’s future.

Now, there were no more sacrifices to be made. No people to torture. And all the ugliness from the past centuries had finally crashed onto him, had drowned him in his self-hate and wrath. He had reached a limit he hadn’t even known existed. He thought he could keep shoving everything down, down and down, never to be dealt with, never to be let out. However, everything had a bottom. And Azriel had reached far past it, so much so that it was as if a black ocean wanted to roar out of him, to get free.

He had also been avoiding his friends because of this. Because their happiness awakened the monster inside him, a monster that would yell and growl and roar at their perfect lives, at how unfair it felt that only he suffered so much. His family didn’t deserve to be treated like that, it wasn’t their fault. Distancing himself and finding a way, any way, to get rid of this was the best alternative.

Azriel sobbed silently that night. No scream ripped from his chest. No sound left his mouth. He lay on his bed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep, even though his body protested with exhaustion. He only prayed that, at some point along the wee hours, he could pass out. Even better if he didn’t wake up at all the next day.

.

Eris slept in for the first time in a good while. Cauldron, he didn’t remember the last time he’d woken up past nine, and without anything else to do but have the day to do whatever he wanted. He got up and dressed for the day, choosing a black fighting suit for after breakfast. He’d chosen this apartment because of the training facilities it had on the last floor, he needed to keep his shape even on vacation. Also, a silent neighborhood was best if he were to escape from the bustling city; he enjoyed calmness at the end of the day.

He headed to the kitchen to make himself breakfast, until he remembered he hadn’t gone grocery shopping yet. He’d arrived yesterday and gone straight to that theater once he heard of the music events in the Palace of Moonlight; he could go shopping later if it meant filling his symphodisk with new songs to enjoy during his stay.

Eris laced his boots and grabbed a pouch of gold before going to his door. When he was about to close it, though, there was a bag hanging on the knob. He untangled it and reached for its content, bringing out a wrapped sandwich and a small pot with a creamy, sweet mousse, for the looks of it. His lips curled up at the gesture. It seemed like, although the shadowsinger was gloomy and serious all the time, he did care. There might be kindness beneath that harshly carved exterior.

The High Lord went back inside, gripping a spoon to eat the mousse. Yes, always the sweets first. A cup of coffee would’ve been nice, but he would deal with this particular problem later today. For now, he needed to put his body into motion, so as soon as he finished the sandwich, Eris went back outside, striding towards the gym at the end of the corridor.

It surprised him to find no one in the room, no one but one figure in the corner, swinging a sword in beautiful arcs and slices through the air. The male turned to look at him, surprise flickering in his eyes for a moment before he masked it under his neutral face.

“Don’t people come to train here? I thought it would be buzzing at this hour,” Eris said, going for the rack and grabbing a slim sword for himself.

“It is,” the shadowsinger replied from where he stood. “But they leave when I’m here.”

Cold dripped from his words, and Eris approached him, studying Azriel’s face.

“Why? Are they scared of you?” He inquired. He got no response, for the Illyrian merely went back to brandishing his sword. The High Lord wondered if he had seen it right, if the fact that people ran scared of him bothered the male deep down. Eris stopped across from Azriel, staring at him with a smirk. “Afraid of a harmless bat. What’s there to be scared of?”

Azriel deadpanned him. “You don’t want to get on my bad side,” the male warned him.

“What bad side?” Eris retorted with a crooked smile. “You bickered with me all night yesterday, just to leave me a snack for breakfast today. I’d say you’re soft under that broody face.”

“I was merely returning the favor,” the shadowsinger replied with a scowl. “There’s nothing soft about me.”

“Hm, if you say so. That’s not what I see, though. Although if you’re willing to prove you’re not soft, Azriel… Why don’t you spar with me?” The High Lord challenged, pointing his sword at him.

Azriel scoffed. “You can’t win against me in a sword fight.”

Cocky bastard, Eris thought. He kept the smirk on his face as he replied, “Bold of you to say something like that to a High Lord. Especially one you’ve never fought against.”

Azriel only shrugged and was about to turn his back, dismissing Eris just like that, when the redhead lunged for him. The shadowsinger blocked his sword, his features sharp as he stared Eris down.

“You don’t want to fight against me, Eris. This is my last warning,” Azriel growled, pressing his body forward to force his retreat.

“You don’t want to refuse a High Lord’s invitation, Azriel. I’m not scared of you, come at me,” he provoked.

Indeed, Eris wasn’t afraid. Had never been afraid of Azriel, for some reason. He was the only one in Rhysand’s inner circle who felt… off, different. His aura was something the High Lord had never been able to decipher, to read between the lines. Or that was how it used to be. The male in front of him now was too easy to read, so focused on trying to keep a mask on that he forgot to watch his body. Eris was good at body language, and from the stiffness on the shadowsinger’s limbs, from the chest raising and falling unevenly, he could see the unease, could see Azriel was keeping a tight leash on himself for some reason.

There was something eating at him. The dark circles under his eyes suggested he wasn't sleeping that well. Were it the male from his past, the cold, calculating spymaster, then perhaps Eris might lose to him in a fight. This version of him, though, unrested and unkept, darker than usual, was no match for Eris.

The High Lord steadied himself in a fighting stance and waited for the attack. “Come. I can take whatever it is you think might hurt me,” he dared with a smirk, and Azriel ground his teeth.

Eris felt his body vibrate with the impact when Azriel’s sword collided with his, the strength of the blow waking all his senses. It had been a while since he had fought against someone who came at him without holding back, with such raw anger. Eris dodged and blocked each slice of the shadowsinger’s blade, quick on his feet, barely able to keep the smile away from his face.

He thrived in this fight, also wanting to come alive, to throw all of himself on the swings of his sword. Eris spun and sliced, grinning at the surprise in Azriel’s eyes at the sudden attack, barely avoided. Determination and some of that cold focus returned to the Illyrian’s gaze as he narrowed his eyes and struck again, faster, harder, making the clanging of the weapons resonate in the room.

Eris met each attack with precision, excitement coursing through his veins as they battled, clashing and retreating again and again, spinning and swinging in their own dance of arms and feet. The High Lord caught the slight curl on the left of Azriel’s lips, as if he, too, was having fun, having found a worthy opponent.

“You’re good, I’ll give you that,” the shadowsinger uttered.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Eris retorted. “It’d been a while since I had a fighting partner not going easy on me.”

Azriel snorted. “Oh, so you can take more?”

“I can take you for hours,” Eris replied, chuckling at the scowl on the male’s face from the double meaning in his sentence. He also noticed the way Azriel’s eyes ran through his body before reaching back to his face.

“There are plenty of places in Velaris where you can find this kind of entertainment,” the shadowsinger remarked, dodging his blow.

“Why give myself the trouble when there’s entertainment right in front of me?” Eris drawled, enjoying more than he should to tease the Illyrian.

“As I said,” Azriel panted, spinning. “I don’t sleep with the same person twice.”

“What a stupid rule,” the High Lord retorted, retreating from a blow that nearly cut a strand of his hair. “May I ask why?”

“I don’t get emotionally attached, and people don’t understand that. I don’t like being forced into feeling things for someone, so it's easier to keep it a one-night thing,” the male answered, and Eris was taken by surprise at the revelation.

“Hm, that is a good point. But I am not interested in emotional connections right now. It’s too complicated for someone in my position.” Azriel's eyes were fixed on him as he deflected his slice. “You can guess how many greedy people seek the power my role would give them, and I just want to enjoy my vacation. You and I could have some fun while I’m here,” the High Lord said, lowering his sword and traveling his eyes over the shadowsinger’s body, as he had done with his.

Azriel’s eyes lowered to his mouth as Eris walked closer, but the male shook his head in denial. “Let’s not go down that road. I shouldn’t have slept with you that night. I was drunk. Forget about it, alright?”

“Even if I wished to forget, why would I erase the memory of my first night bedding a winged male?” A naughty smirk spread on Eris’s face. “One that made me feel…” he dragged the words, lowering his lids and staring at Azriel’s mouth with second intentions. “Quite satiated. I’m the kind to explore sex with one partner rather than with many in a row. One time isn’t enough to learn all there is to know of a body’s secrets.”

Azriel swallowed hard, the bump in his throat bobbing as his eyes were fixed on the High Lord, fighting against the desire evident in his gaze.

“Why are you set on me?” The Illyrian asked.

“Many reasons,” Eris replied. “First, I know you're not seeking my hand,” a wink at the shadowsinger, who arched a brow at him. “Second, I have already tested and know it's worth my time. And third, you're not a stranger. You're not some crazy mongrel who would go behind my back or threaten my life.”

“I've threatened your life many times,” Azriel remarked.

“I guess I am on your soft side, in the end,” Eris retorted with amusement. “We both know you're not stupid enough to try and kill me now, not when it would end your life as well.”

Something shifted in the shadowsinger’s expression. Desire vanished from his eyes as the lines of his face tightened, and Azriel turned his back to him, walking away to return his sword to the rack. Eris followed him there to do the same, curiosity sparking through him as to what might have caused that sudden change in his face.

“What are you doing today?”

Azriel’s brows knitted as he glanced at him. “Has anyone ever told you how nosy you are?”

“I got the message already. If you don't want it, then it's your loss,” he shrugged. “If you’re not busy, I need an extra pair of arms to carry my bags while I go shopping today.”

“Do you take me for a servant? Go by yourself!” Azriel barked.

“Don’t you know what ‘making company’ means, shadowsinger?” Eris laughed. “I only meant that you could make use of those muscles and help me settle in for the next days. I won’t bother you after that if you’re truly that annoyed with my presence.”

“Do you swear you will stop nagging at me if I accompany you?” Azriel inquired, crossing his arms.

“I won’t need to,” Eris replied, braiding his hair to the side. “I’ll find someone who wants me around. But if you help me today,” he lifted a finger and smiled. “I’ll treat you to a meal. I’ll cook.”

“And risk you poisoning me? Since when do you cook?”

Eris rolled his eyes. “Sure, because I have nothing better to do with my day than secretly plot your death. Come on. And since when? Since I needed to learn it to survive.” His gaze was sharp on Azriel for a second, and the male kept his mouth shut. “I'm going to change. See you downstairs in ten.”

Chapter Text

What level of boredom had he reached? Had his life truly become that empty if his only source of entertainment was making Eris company? He was only doing this for the sake of the truce he’d agreed to yesterday, he mumbled to himself. There was no other reason why Azriel trailed after the redhead, holding bags with food supplies and whatever other trinkets the High Lord had decided to bring home. Eris had said something about trying a new hobby, but the shadowsinger had stopped listening after a while, so the male had fallen silent and let him be.

He was like a black shadow behind Eris, who was a blotch of color in the crowd. Azriel could stay a few miles away and still find him among the faeries, his hair shone like living fire under the sunlight. Azriel wouldn’t admit he found it stunning, nor that he wanted to touch those strands again, to run his fingers through them. He had dismissed the High Lord’s proposal earlier, so now he could only stare.

The Illyrian watched from under an awning as the redhead engaged in conversation with the shop owner of a music gallery, gesturing with his hands and earning smiles from the male he talked to. Azriel didn’t know Eris was that talkative, nor that he could look so lively. The male he remembered from his past, always in Beron’s shadow, had been cold and cruel, and only opened his mouth to say unpleasantness or taunt others to stir up trouble.

The one in front of him now still bore that imposing aura, still commanded respect, but there was something more about him, something that left Azriel unable to tear his eyes from him, even though he’d tried to divert his attention somewhere else. Perhaps Eris was yet another person who enjoyed this peaceful world, someone who had been blessed by its calmness.

Eris bade the shop owner farewell and strolled out of the gallery, meeting Azriel across the street. “One more stop, and we go home,” he said. “I need to stop by the spices’ shop and, since you’re here, is there any wine you would recommend from your Court?”

Azriel pondered, his mind wandering to Rhysand’s wine cellar and the bottles he saved up there for special occasions. “Hm, there might be. What kind is more to your liking?” He asked.

“I’m up to trying anything,” Eris remarked, his lips curling slightly, which dragged the shadowsinger’s attention to his mouth, against his will, of course. “But I tend to go with sparkling drinks… I like the prickling sensation on my tongue,” He added, licking his lower lip. His eyes danced with amusement as he noticed Azriel shift his weight on his feet to hide his discomfort.

The Illyrian shoved the mental picture to the dark corners of his mind. “I know of something you might find interesting.”

They followed down the street, and Azriel tucked in his wings, trying to make them less visible, less threatening. He rarely walked around during daylight for that precise reason. Gasps of fright, curious gazes, or sharp stares, everywhere they passed by, people looked and judged. Azriel felt Eris glancing over him, but the High Lord didn’t comment, keeping to himself in silence as they’d been all afternoon.

“Az?”

He turned toward the voice, meeting Cassian and Nesta’s gazes as he and Eris entered the winery. His brother had two wrapped bottles in his hand, the other casually around Nesta’s shoulders as his eyes studied him and the High Lord by his side.

He wasn’t expecting to see any of his friends, let alone in a situation like this. Instinct screamed at him to get away, to hide and be spared from giving them explanations he didn’t have.

“It’s been so long since we last saw you,” Cassian said. “How have you been?”

No one knew he had been in the Autumn Court facing his punishment for the last two weeks, and Azriel wanted to keep his distance. But saying that to his friends, opening up to them, wasn’t an option. They wouldn’t understand, and there were things too painful for him to even think about.

“I’m fine,” was all he said.

Cassian studied the bags in his arms, then the High Lord at his side, who observed them with a bland face, as if bored by their conversation.

“What are you doing here, Eris?” His brother asked, but although there wasn’t rudeness in his tone, his arm tightened around his mate. Nesta rolled her eyes, but Azriel saw her lean more into Cassian’s touch, as if to reassure him.

Eris noticed that, too, and scoffed. “Oh for fuck’s sake, it’s been four years. Spare me the territorial male act,” he remarked. “And just so you know, Cassian, that, although beautiful,” Eris said, pointing to Nesta, “is not the fruit I like.”

His brother’s eyes widened, and a low laugh followed. “So this is the fruit you like?” He asked, pointing to himself.

Eris stared him head to toe. “Nah, you wish. Although you fit into the specimen, I’m afraid my taste is more refined.”

Azriel’s lips curled up involuntarily, and it surprised him when he caught himself in the act. Cassian immediately noticed the change in his expression and smirked. “What are you smiling at, Az?”

“He might think of himself as a rare specimen, don’t you agree, General?” Eris inquired, walking to the counter to make his order. He turned to them, winking at Azriel. “He must think he has a chance with me by the look on his face.”

The shadowsinger’s eyes shot daggers at him, wanting to rip that smile off Eris’s handsome face.

Cassian snorted. “He is indeed quite prideful. Though not as much as I thought,” he said, dragging his eyes to the bags the shadowsinger held. “Since he’s carrying your stuff around.”

Eris reclined lazily on the counter, playing with his braid. “I offered him a good treat,” he teased.

Cassian spied the contents of the bags, and Azriel narrowed his eyes on him. “For the looks of it, you’re staying for a while. Do you have someone to show you around?”

Eris merely pointed to Azriel while asking the vendor which beverage he wanted.

“I didn’t agree to that,” Azriel snapped, reaching closer to the High Lord.

“Ah, yes, I forgot to ask first,” Eris drawled.

“We can arrange for someone to be your guide,” his friend offered.

Indeed, anyone would be better suited to accompany the High Lord throughout the city. Anyone would be a better company than him, who didn’t want to talk and kept a scowl glued to his face all day. Eris had said he would find someone who wanted him around, anyway. Azriel averted his eyes, staring at the wall, gripping the paper bags. The High Lord of Autumn would blend well with his friends, talking with Cassian with such ease, as if there had never been a grudge between them in the past.

Azriel remembered his brother’s dropped jaw when Eris had cleared up the misunderstanding with Mor, what he’d saved her from by letting her in the woods. Ever since then, Eris had made amends with the Night Court, and the past remained in the past. The shadowsinger sank into himself as he thought that even Eris, someone from another court, fit better in his circle of friends than himself. What a joke.

But Eris waved a hand. “Don’t trouble yourself, Cassian. I’ve already found everything I need.” A wicked smile spread on his lips. “Unfortunately for Azriel, he’s too good a source of entertainment for me to let go of pestering him. It might be worth spending my vacation time here coming up with different ways to piss him off.”

“You’re such a dick,” Azriel bit the words to the High Lord.

Eris chuckled as he replied, “Well, it’s as they say, you are what you eat.”

Cassian roared in laughter, and although Azriel wanted to throttle Eris for being so annoying… He also felt seen. He felt… He didn’t know why his words had meant something to him.

“I like this version of you much better,” his brother remarked, then looked at the shadowsinger, grasping his shoulder. “And good luck, rare specimen. I wouldn’t want a fire torch on my trail. You must have pissed off the Mother.”

Definitely, he thought as he watched Cassian and Nesta wave at them and cross the threshold toward the street. His stare fell back on Eris, who paid for the bottles and approached him.

“Let’s go home, Azriel.” The way he said his name had Azriel’s breath caught up in his throat, had him yearning to be called again. It was never like that for him. He preferred not to draw attention, to erase his existence in a room whenever he could. And yet, when it came out of Eris’s lips, his name sounded like music. The High Lord walked past him and turned at the door with a taunting grin. “I have to feed you properly.”

--------

“I’ll start cooking after a quick bath,” Eris said as they dropped the bags at the center table in his apartment. Azriel looked around, taking in the carpeted floor, the modern, wooden furniture, the spacious kitchen, and the plants and paintings scattered all over the walls and corners. The green matched well with the shades of brown and beige, and it made Eris feel at peace, giving him the sensation of being home. “Do you want to come back when I’m finished or…” he paused, dragging Azriel’s attention to him. “Hang out while I cook and listen to some nice music?”

Eris didn’t know why, but he felt like being gentle with Azriel, even though the shadowsinger snapped at him every three sentences. He had been observing the male ever since he worked on rebuilding what he’d destroyed. Lucien had filled him in on the progress, pointing out that Azriel didn’t make pauses for lunch, and that he stayed there even after work hours had ended. And since he’d arrived yesterday, he couldn’t piece the broody male who bickered at him with that… hollow look in his eyes while they’d walked around Velaris, with the hurt he tried to hide behind a mask of indifference at the stares he got on the streets, nor with the desperation he’d seen in Azriel during that concert as he hummed along the songs.

It intrigued him, to say the least. He couldn’t turn his back on someone who seemed desperate to both hide and run away, and also be seen. What had happened to Azriel in those past years? What ate at his soul to make him lead a destructive way of living?

Eris knew well what that was like, had felt it in his bones, that urge to feel things intensely, to remind people he was alive, but to also want to cower before the crushing stares, before those more powerful than him. His invitation to have a meal together hadn’t been for the help earlier. No, something inside him hurt to see Azriel in such a state, so similar to his past self. He’d had no one to drag him out of that black pit. He would have wished someone to offer up a hand out of that, to show him there was more to his immortal life than sadness and pain.

However, kindness wasn’t always the solution to approach someone who felt broken. Eris doubted Azriel’s friends hadn’t tried that already. For some people, kindness felt too cruel, undeserving. But it could be carefully woven into gestures and words if he played right.

He didn’t know why he cared. This kindness toward others had caused him so much pain already, and yet here he was, unable to go against his nature. Well, it wasn’t as if he would get involved with the shadowsinger anyway; he’d be in a different city in a few weeks. He hoped the male would overcome his issues and lead a better life upon his departure.

Azriel’s eyes followed him as he organized the items he’d bought in the cabinets, then answered, “I’ll be back in half an hour.” He winnowed out, and Eris smiled to himself. Time to put his plan into action.

.

When the shadowsinger knocked at his door a while later, Eris had just started cooking. He stepped aside to let Azriel come in, noticing how he’d dressed up more formally. The black shirt rolled up to his elbows hugged his toned arms, and the also black pants lined his ass, reminding Eris of how that butt had felt in his grasp a while ago.

“Are all your clothes black?” He asked, closing the door behind him and heading back to the kitchen, waving for the Illyrian to follow him. “So gloomy.”

“Black doesn’t draw attention,” Azriel replied, settling atop a stool on the counter, leaning his forearms on it.

Eris lifted a brow, stirring a pan while he looked at the male. “Hm, sorry to say that it does nothing to hide you.” When Azriel looked down at his hands and didn’t reply, the redhead said, “Anyway, fetch me that silver egg to your left.” The shadowsinger grabbed the oval device and handed it to him. “I also have a symphonia. What do you want to hear?”

Azriel shrugged. “Anything is fine.”

Eris then touched the top to turn the device on and wove his magic to make all the songs inside appear in a light square. Yes, he had altered it to his liking because he didn’t always enjoy listening to the songs in the same order, so he’d learned how to imbue the symphonia with his magic. He noticed Azriel’s curious eyes on the object, something like boyish wonder twinkled in his gaze. It softened the male’s usual scowl, the lines on his face, and Eris caught himself wondering what Azriel would look like when he smiled.

[Song: The Sea of Irish Dream]

He chose one of his favorite Autumn ballads from a tavern he’d gone to a few days before arriving in Velaris, to have a piece of home along his trip. When music erupted, a joining of violins and a guitar, his eyes fell on the shadowsinger again, hovering on his closed lids, on how concentrated the male seemed in the sounds.

Eris’s lips curled up, and he didn’t say anything else as he went back to the stove, focusing on using his skills to make something good. He hoped he wasn’t too rusty in the kitchen, since it’d been a while since he’d last cooked a full meal.

The playlist went on, and at some point, Eris spied Azriel leaning on his arms, resting his head on them as he reached closer to the symphonia. His mind seemed to wander as two of his fingers drummed on the counter’s surface and his head moved slightly to the song’s rhythm.

The steam escaping the pans soon filled the room, and Eris felt proud of himself as he checked the taste of the stroganoff, almost ready.

“Here, have a taste and tell me how the seasoning is,” Eris said, offering Azriel a spoon with some of the sauce. The shadowsinger was about to decline when the High Lord plunged the spoon into his mouth, then withdrew it with a grin as he watched the Illyrian’s wide eyes. “Good?”

Azriel cleared his throat, licking his lips and pressing them together. “It’s… decent.”

Eris laughed, setting the spoon in the sink and blowing out the fire on the stove.

“Dinner is ready. Help me set the table,” he asked, handing Azriel the plates and silverware. He then brought the two pans and the tray to the dining room, placing them in the center of the medium-sized wooden table with four seats. “Glasses are on that cabinet,” he pointed to the shadowsinger while he went for one of the bottles he’d bought earlier.

When all was as he liked, he set a jar of flowers at the end of the table.

“When did you buy that?” Azriel asked, taking a seat.

“When your mind went elsewhere,” Eris answered, finishing the arrangement before dragging back the chair across from the Illyrian. “Well, I hope you like it. Be my guest.”

Azriel looked at him with a strange expression, one he could not read. The male opened the lids and served his plate with rice, stroganoff, and the baked potatoes Eris always bragged to Lucien were his specialty. It smelled delicious, and the High Lord couldn’t refrain his lips from curling up as he watched Azriel take the first mouthful and stop chewing for a second. He’d liked it, but Eris knew he wouldn’t admit it that easily. He’d never heard the male offer anyone a compliment.

Eris served himself and studied the shadowsinger dig into his plate as if he’d been starving. “You can repeat if you wish,” he declared, and Azriel seemed to remember he wasn’t alone.

He swallowed his food and asked, “Where are you going after this month? Back to Autumn?”

Eris took a sip from the sparkling cider he’d poured, groaning at the flavor. “This is good stuff,” he grinned at Azriel, whose eyes studied his face intently. The High Lord pretended he didn’t see it, that the look didn’t make him want to kiss the shadowsinger. He shot the thought down and answered, “No, I’m taking a sabbatical year. Lucien will rule until I’m back, so I don’t know what the next destination is. Perhaps the Day Court to see my mother for a few days.”

“Hm,” Azriel replied. “Are you sure your court won’t crumble without you there?”

“I’ve already planned the whole year for him,” Eris winked at him. “All there is to do is execute what I left, so technically, it’s still me in command,” he shrugged. “I’ll go back if need be, though I hope my vacation isn’t interrupted.”

“What will you do with so much free time?” Azriel asked, and something shifted in his expression. “Won’t you get bored?”

“Bored?” Eris inquired, choking on a laugh as he set his glass on the table. “If you could see how fast my mind wanders with ideas, Azriel, you’d never ask me that question.”

“Such as…?” He went on, and the High Lord’s eyes glinted at his interest, at the feeling of normalcy between them.

“For starters, I’d like to try crochet,” he lifted a finger, and he saw Azriel’s brow raise. “It’s an excuse to listen to the songs I intend to collect and relax,” he explained. “Then I might try painting, I’ve heard your High Lady has a studio in the Artists’ Quarters. I also ordered a new Cello in the music gallery today, it’ll arrive next week, so I’ll resume my practice.”

“You… play?” Azriel asked in surprise, propping his chin on his hand, appearing very interested in the conversation.

“I do,” Eris smirked at him. “I’d play for you if you wanted, but you asked me to leave you alone this morning.” A shrug, and the High Lord hid his laugh at the frown in the shadowsinger’s face. “Unless you don’t find my presence that spiteful anymore.”

Azriel stared at him, as if fighting an internal conflict between swallowing his pride and giving in to his curiosity. He didn’t reply, though, pressing his lips together not to embarrass himself.

Eris chuckled. “You really like music, don’t you?” He asked, stirring the liquid in his glass. “You let me know when you want me to lend you the symphodisk.”

“Why are you being nice to me?” Azriel asked, and Eris saw the defence in his gaze.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He retorted, pouring himself more of the sparkling drink. “I have nothing against you, and even though you’re rude, I find you entertaining.”

Azriel averted his eyes. “You’re weird.”

Eris snorted. “If only you knew… As I said, shadowsinger, you know nothing about me,” he remarked, locking eyes with the Illyrian, staring at him intently. “The male you knew was never me. Don’t we all wear masks in order to survive in this world? Well, I don’t need them as often now. This is who I am. I’m carefree and blunt. I don’t like to waste time.”

Azriel studied him, his eyes flickering with some emotion Eris couldn’t place. What did that look mean? The symphonia still played songs in the background as silence fell.

“Let’s play something,” Eris blurted when he finished his dinner, startling the shadowsinger.

“I should go back,” Azriel started, but the redhead lifted a finger.

“It’s up to you, but there’s still dessert,” he shared, a cocky smile curling on his lips. “It will be ready in an hour in the ice cellar, so why don’t we pass the time playing cards?”

That sparked the Illyrian’s attention, and Eris took a note about another interest he’d just found out about. Seeing that Azriel kept staring at him, the High Lord summoned a deck of cards and shuffled them, smirking at the male.

“So? What do you say?” He challenged. “Whoever loses the most matches does the dishes.”

--------

Azriel cursed internally as he washed the pans from the dinner. How come he’d only won two matches of twelve against Eris?! It was as outrageous as it was shameful. He’d never lost so many times in a row, and he couldn’t school his features as Eris slithered along the kitchen with that victorious smirk, picking up the bowls for the lemon mousse he’d made for dessert. Azriel’s mouth watered against his will, wondering if it would taste as good as his food. His mother would’ve scolded him for not offering a proper thanks or a compliment, but saying such a thing to the Autumn High Lord felt like losing a battle. He couldn’t explain why.

“This plate is already cleaned, you know,” Eris said against his ear, and Azriel almost jumped on his feet with his proximity. How had he approached him so silently? The redhead stepped to his side, arching a brow at him and reclining against the sink to watch. He opened another wicked smile. “I didn’t know you were such a sore loser. I’ll let you win the next one if it makes you feel better,” he teased.

Azriel deadpanned him. “Prick.”

Eris laughed, and the shadowsinger’s eyes lingered on him, on his striking figure. The long braid falling over his shoulder, the intense red shirt unbuttoned on his collar, the brown trousers clinging to his thighs, all made the High Lord one of the most handsome males Azriel had ever seen. Looking at him all night had stirred up that desire inside him, and the mere curl of Eris’s lips had his mind wandering to a dangerous road, one he didn’t feel inclined to go down.

“You have to stop staring at me like that,” Eris brought him back to the present, and only then did Azriel notice that water overflowed in the glass he was washing. Embarrassment took him as he gulped, averting his eyes back to his task. “I don’t get you,” Eris went on, circling behind him like a feline approaching prey. Azriel’s arm hairs rose. “You didn’t accept my proposal, and yet your eyes keep sending me mixed signals, Azriel.”

The shadowsinger trembled when Eris’s fingers trailed his waist, pressing it slightly as he wrapped an arm around his middle and stopped at his other side. Azriel didn’t find it in him to push him away. It was like his body had its own will, yearning for that male to be closer.

Eris turned off the faucet and took the glass from his hand, placing it on the dish drainer before turning the shadowsinger’s body to him, pressing him against the sink and trapping him between his arms. His eyes traveled on him, and Azriel’s mouth parted, sucking in a breath as he stared at the High Lord’s lips.

“See, that look,” Eris purred. “I know you want to do it again, so why not go for it?” He asked, running a hand on Azriel’s abs, tugging at the shirt tossed in his pants.

“I don’t break the rules I set for myself,” he managed to say, but he gasped as Eris gripped at his cock over his pants.

“Why do you cage yourself on such a tight leash?” The redhead asked, pressing his chest against his, and Azriel felt his breath lock in his throat at the closeness, at the way his hands ached to touch Eris again, to undo that braid and shovel a hand through his hair. The High Lord then smirked, retreating, leaving the shadowsinger stiff against the sink. “How about a bet?”

“A bet?” Azriel repeated.

“You like games, so think of it this way: this is technically the first time, since you were too drunk to remember the actual one,” Eris said, lifting a finger. “And the bet is, if I make you cum four times tonight, you have to make an exception to your rule for me. If I can’t, then this will be the last time. And if there’s a draw… well, whoever comes first in the fifth, loses. We’ll take turns as to who takes the lead.”

“What if I make you cum four times?” Azriel asked, crossing his arms.

Eris laughed. “You seem confident,” he pointed out, licking his lips, and Azriel’s throat bobbed. “Name your terms.”

“I want one of those symphodisks.”

The High Lord snorted, then replied, “Deal.” Eris started unbuttoning his shirt as he slowly headed to the living room. “I’ll give you the upperhand to make me cum first.”

Azriel then turned on the ‘fuck off’ button and snatched the male back to him. He wrapped an arm around his waist and seized Eris’s hair, making the High Lord look at him. “I’ll take you on this very table, Eris.”

And then he joined their mouths in a kiss he had restrained himself from all day long.

Chapter Text

Eris’s mouth was truly a sin. When their lips collided, there was no turning back, for all Azriel wanted was to get lost in that taste, in his scent. He devoured him in that kiss, pouring all of his desire on it, groaning as Eris gripped at him, running his hands on his chest, and tangled his tongue against his, meeting stroke after stroke as if he, too, had wanted to do that all day.

Azriel grabbed him from under his ass and lifted him, setting Eris on the table without letting go of his lips. He started unbuttoning the rest of the High Lord’s shirt while Eris ran his hands on his dark hair, pulling the strands slightly to seize his moves and take him in deeper. The shadowsinger didn’t know a kiss could feel that good, that arousing, that a mouth could fit so perfectly on his.

He bent down as he splayed Eris on the table, fitting himself between his legs. If he had the upper hand, then he better use it. He really wanted that device, and if this was how he could get it, then he would do his best. It wasn't as if he didn’t want to, anyway, but he wouldn’t admit it to the redhead under him, biting his lips as Azriel’s mouth went down on his jaw.

Azriel licked the column of his neck and sucked the skin. He remembered the feeling from that one time, the wish to spend hours licking and biting him. It burned up inside him as his mouth trailed down the High Lord’s chest, finding his nipples already peaked. He sucked the right one as his fingers pinched the other, and his cock throbed in his pants when Eris moaned, grasping his hair.

His tongue teased the sensitive buttons, wanting to drag more of those sounds from the redhead, and so he continued down on his abs, licking Eris’s muscles and grabbing his thighs. When he reached his navel, Azriel unbuttoned the male’s pants, locking eyes with him. He liked that face very much, and liked even more to see the burning desire in Eris’s eyes as he watched the shadowsinger take off his boots and pants.

Eris gasped when Azriel bit his cock over his underwear, sucking it over the fabric, then pressing wet kisses on the High Lord’s thighs. His skin was soft, and Azriel rasped his teeth there, moving up to his knee and then back to his inner thigh, repeating the motion on the other leg.

“We have all night for foreplay, Azriel,” Eris darted, leaning on his elbows to watch him. Then he smirked, “Can you guess what I want?”

Azriel moved back up, grabbing the male’s neck with a hand and his cock with the other. “I’ll wipe that smirk off your face once I give you what you want,” he snarled.

Eris chuckled, not a bit scared of being at his mercy. “I look forward to it,” and the bastard winked at him, summoning a vial of oil and handing it to him. “Now, let’s see if you’re about action or just about words.”

Azriel growled at the challenge. He would make Eris scream so loud that he’d have to swallow those words very, very soon. The shadowsinger took off Eris’s underwear and then got rid of his own clothes. The High Lord’s gaze traveled along his torso, his abs, and stationed at his cock, hard and pulsing.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a beautiful cock?” Eris asked, and for some reason, Azriel felt embarrassed under his stare, eating him with his eyes. Somehow, even though he had been praised for his good looks, it felt… different when Eris said that.“Because I must say, I’m salivating for it right now,” the redhead declared, biting his lower lip.

A shiver ran through his spine, and Azriel’s cock pulsed in response, remembering the High Lord’s mouth sucking him that time. He craved for feeling it again today, and he would enjoy every second of those lips wrapped around his dick, taking all of him in.

Azriel bent over him, running a hand on Eris’s abs and reaching his ear. “I'll give it to you later, since you're so eager to suck me,” he murmured, then bit the male’s earlobe. “I’ll make sure to keep your mouth busy if you keep pestering me.”

Eris snorted, wrapping his arms around Azriel’s shoulders. “I wonder how mad you will be if I don’t stop,” he muttered, biting the shadowsinger’s lower lip and pulling it. “Get me ready, Azriel,” he whispered, and his mouth covered his in a searing kiss, making the Illyrian forget their bickering for a second as Eris’s taste engulfed him.

Without leaving his lips, Azriel slurped two fingers with the oil and found his way between Eris’s butt cheeks, rubbing his entrance and plunging a finger into him. He couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath as the High Lord groaned, swaying his hips in provocation. Azriel felt need crawl under his skin to take him, to hear more of those sounds of pleasure. Eris was so fucking hot, and the male knew it, used it to his advantage. And Azriel let that appeal ensnare his senses. There was no stopping him from ravishing the Autumn High Lord tonight.

Once two of his fingers went in and out easily, the shadowsinger couldn’t wait any longer. He slicked his cock under Eris’s intentful gaze, rubbing his shaft on the male’s entrance. With one thrust, he went all the way in, burying his face in Eris’s neck. The redhead's whimper made him growl, and Azriel grabbed his thighs as he felt that tight ass squeezing him.

“Fuck,” Eris moaned, his nails digging into Azriel’s back. “You’re big.”

The shadowsinger smiled against his skin, lifting his face to watch the High Lord under him. “If it’s a cock you want Eris, then take it,” he rasped, biting the redhead’s neck and thrusting into him, delighting in the moan he got in answer. He did it again, back and forth, testing to find that spot in Eris and make him go mad. “Take it as I fuck you, High Lord,” he snarled.

Eris’s ass clenched around him as he said that, and Azriel hissed, retreating to hold the male under his knees.

“You like to be called that, don’t you?” Azriel inquired, slamming his cock harder into Eris.

“In your voice, sure,” Eris grunted, holding the table's edges, its feet creaking at the shadowsinger’s steady thrusts. “Call me whatever you want.”

“I hadn't realized you were so thirsty for my cock,” Azriel snarled, biting his moan when the High Lord squished him, so tight that he felt like spilling into him right then and there. Eris wasn't ashamed of moaning loudly, arching his back and opening up to him, welcoming his every plunge.

“Azriel,” He cried out, and seeing him like that, with those legs spread for him as he moved in and out of him, had Azriel’s primitive beast woken up, had it roaring inside him to find release.

No, not yet. He had to hold it, had to make Eris cum first and win that game. He slowed down a bit, but Eris locked his legs around his waist, trapping him there. The High Lord then lifted, sustaining his weight on his hands, almost sitting on the table without unplucking his cock.

“Who said you could slow down?” He dared. “Didn’t you say you’d wipe the smile off my face?” Eris reminded him, smirking in provocation. “I’m still smiling, Azriel.”

The shadowsinger snarled, and he gripped Eris’s ass, lifting it and pulling him slightly off the table. All there was to hold the High Lord in place were his hands flattened on the surface, and when Azriel ducked his cock roughly into him, Eris cried out.

“Yes, that’s more like it,” he sneered, and sped up his thrusts, drinking in Eris’s moans, drowning in his face contorted in pleasure. Azriel reached closer, and Eris took him in a kiss, biting his lips, sucking his tongue, devouring every corner of his mouth as the shadowsinger fucked him hard.

The Illyrian parted the kiss and commanded, “Turn around that ass for me, Eris.” The male did as he asked, and Azriel folded one of his legs on the table, exposing his butt to him. He slapped it hard, and Eris groaned. “You said you offered me a treat,” he reminded as his hand collided against the redhead’s butt. “How generous of you to feed me two meals.”

Azriel didn’t warn him as he slammed his cock back inside at once, earning another scream from the High Lord, who clutched the edges of the table to keep himself in place as the shadowsinger took him from behind.

“You feel so fucking good around my cock,” Azriel said under his breath as he slapped Eris’s ass again and again, groaning as the male squeezed him tighter, release building into him as the High Lord started rocking his hips back against him. The shadowsinger grasped both sides of his waist, then snarled, “I’m going to cram you until there’s cum flowing down your legs, Eris.”

The plunges became frenetic, the swing of his hips unstopable, and Eris’s strangled sounds led Azriel to madness as he fucked and fucked the High Lord, his own moans ressonating along the redhead’s. Eris’s whole body trembled as he spilled himself on the floor, a lucious moan dragging as music to the shadowsinger’s ears, and at that, he finally let go of his release, gripping Eris’s waist tightly as he spurted into him, again and again.

He tried to catch his breath as he unplucked his cock and retreated, watching Eris while he turned to face him.

A naughty smile danced on his lips as he said, “Good job. One to one.”

The audacity he had… He sounded as if he hadn’t been crying out seconds ago, hadn't squeezed his cock harder at all of Azriel's provocative words. The High Lord slithered toward him, running a hand on his chest and locking their gazes.

“Now I take the lead,” he declared, and looked around. “There are many interesting places in here, but I think I’ll try something different.”

Eris pushed him toward the counter, dragging the stool and gesturing to it. “This, Azriel, is where I’ll make you come.”

The shadowsinger studied the stool, not really believing that position would be favorable, so he agreed. If he didn’t find release, then he would have one point of advantage.

“I love it that you think you’ll win this,” Eris drawled, grabbing his chin and pulling his face closer. “I’ll show you how a High Lord fucks.”

Azriel didn’t want to, but he quivered at the words, at the promise of pleasure in Eris’s voice. Their mouths met in a wet kiss, and Eris held the back of his neck as his tongue tangled against his. His spice-sweet scent reached Azriel hard, and he closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around the High Lord’s waist and pulling him closer. Eris’s mouth was addictive, and all the shadowsinger could do was part his lips more for him, to let his kisses awaken his body again.

Eris let go of his mouth and went for his neck, biting him there while tunneling his fingers in his hair, and Azriel moaned, feeling the dominance emanating from the redhead. The sensation of his hot tongue trailing all the way down his chest had instinct urging the Illyrian to bend, to open up for him, and so he did, spreading his legs to tangle his body with Eris’s.

Azriel moaned when Eris bent a knee in front of him and took his already hard cock into his mouth. He didn’t fight it as his fingers untied the braid and shoved a hand in that vibrant red hair. The locks were soft under his touch, and the shadowsinger gripped them close to Eris’s nape, which earned him a groan. So Eris liked it there. He did it again, scratching the High Lord at the back of his neck while he sucked his cock so deliciously, and the redhead muffled his moan against his dick, closing his eyes.

The Illyrian brought his other hand to Eris’s head, seizing his movements, and lunged his lips forward, meeting the High Lord’s lips each time his mouth covered his length, throwing his head back. Suddenly, the sensation changed. Heat spread on his cock, and Azriel hissed when he realized Eris’s tongue was hotter. Eris licked his shaft, winking at him and curving the corners of his mouth before wrapping his lips around him again.

“Holy Cauldron,” He cursed, heat enveloping his cock and driving him mad. He could have come with just watching that fucking sexy face, but he held it. He pulled Eris’s head away, bringing him back up and kissing him hard, stroking against his tongue in urgency. It felt good, too good for him ever to regret giving this a second try.

He broke the kiss and said, “Weren’t you saying you’d show me something?”

Eris chuckled, and his next words made something spark in Azriel’s chest. “Beautiful.” The redhead licked his lips, then turned him around and made him sit on the stool and hold on the counter, exposing his ass to him. A groan left his throat, and Azriel felt that hot tongue lick his entrance. “All of you.”

Azriel didn’t know why it felt different when Eris said it. For some reason, when it came from him, it sounded real, sincere, and a small part of him felt somewhat… shy that the male found him beautiful. He moaned at the strokes of the High Lord’s tongue in his ass, then at the first finger that breached him.

Eris rose to his feet, moving his finger in and out as his lips trailed along Azriel’s back, kisses and rasping teeth following up to his shoulders. Azriel trembled as the redhead breathed against the curve of his neck, nuzzling his nose behind his ear.

“Ah…” He let a moan out, and the High Lord pressed wet kisses on that area, which made the shadowsinger’s cock twitch in response.

“You’re delicious,” Eris said against his ear, his other hand running on his throat. A second finger found its way into him, and Azriel gripped the counter’s edges tightly, quivering as Eris’s fingers on his neck warmed, taunting his skin. Since when was he that sensitive? He bucked his hips on instinct, and he felt the High Lord smile against his nape.

Eris pressed a kiss there and murmured, “And I’m going to delight myself at taking your body, Azriel,” he drawled, and Azriel felt his stomach flutter.

Oh, Gods, why did his voice, his words, have such an effect on him? He didn’t remember ever feeling such things, and he didn’t have time to linger there when Eris’s cock filled him, going in inch by inch. He dragged his moan, relaxing his muscles, feeling Eris’s chest pressed against his back as the redhead waited. Eris grabbed his hip with a hand and brought Azriel’s face back for a kiss, grunting against his mouth when the shadowsinger clenched his dick inside.

Slowly, Eris parted the kiss and started to move inside him. Azriel felt all of his cock being pulled out and then slammed back into him in steady plunges, making his body tremble in ecstasy. A whining burst out when he felt something completely foreign at the center of his back. Eris’s tongue dallied where his wings joined his back and traveled along the curve of his left wing. It was as delicious as it was scary, for those were his most vulnerable limbs.

“I-I said not to touch them,” Azriel mumbled, but a shameful strangled sound left him when Eris’s hot tongue trailed the membrane at the same time he thrust his cock into him, reaching his prostate.

“You did say that,” Eris agreed, a warm hand seizing his waist while the other flattened on the shadowsinger’s abdomen. He stopped moving in him, but his cock pulsing inside still made Azriel feel horny as hell. “But you never said I couldn’t lick them.” His hot breath against his wing sent a throb down Azriel’s spine, and he moaned again.

“Mmn… mmn… ngh…” He whined as the High Lord pressed wet kisses on the membrane, and at each touch, Azriel felt shiver after shiver run through his body.

The hand on his stomach went up to his left nipple, warming up on his skin, and the Illyrian felt release bubbling up. Eris licked his right wing, flicking his tongue on the membrane’s joints, and as he taunted him there, the High Lord slammed his cock into him, snarling at the whimper Azriel let out. Eris did it again, matching the rhythm of his thrusts and the strokes of his tongue, slow but rough, and then, Azriel erupted. His splurts marked the wall under the counter, the floor, and his whole body shuddered as pleasure took him completely.

Eris was still inside him, running his hands on his skin as the shadowsinger sucked in shallow breaths. The High Lord brought him back against his chest and murmured in his ear, “I knew it. You are indeed soft, Azriel.” He nibbled his earlobe. “So sensitive…” He groaned as if pleased by his reactions. “It’s a shame you’re so against repeating it with the same person, you’d be baffled by what’s crossing my mind right now. The things I would do to you…”

His whole body shivered at that promise, and Azriel caught himself curious about how much more pleasure he might feel with Eris. The redhead retreated, then dragged Azriel to the living room, throwing him on the couch and coming over him. Eris pressed him against the backrest and folded his legs back before breaching him again, moaning as his cock filled Azriel once more.

The shadowsinger echoed his sounds, and as Eris sped up his thrusts, at some point, the Illyrian found himself wrapping his arms around the male’s shoulders and holding him tightly. He stopped caring if he looked too shameful, caring about Eris having a bad opinion, because as he stared at those fiery amber eyes, as their bodies moved against each other, there was no doubt the redhead felt as much pleasure as he did.

Eris looked at him as if he were the very object of his darkest desires, and Azriel beamed at that, at being so wanted. He locked his legs behind Eris’s middrift and rasped, “Fuck me harder.”

The High Lord growled, passing a hand under his back and the other under his ass as he sped up, fucking him so hard that Azriel’s moans became screams. They were muffled when Eris captured his lips and consumed him in a scorching kiss.

The feel of his mouth, of that spice-sweet taste in his tongue, the way Eris swung his hips against him, the way he held him in his arms, was too much. Azriel hadn’t had time to recover from his last orgasm when another shook his entire body, and he parted the kiss to drag the sound of his release, trapping the High Lord in his tight grip. Azriel arched his back as he felt hot gushes filling his ass, his mouth half-open as he watched Eris’s face drown in pleasure, spilling into him and huffing against his lips.

They stared at each other in silence for a while, still tangled, catching their breath. It stunned the shadowsinger when Eris caressed his face and pressed a peck to his lips. His eyes lit up, and for some reason, Azriel leaned into his warm palm. He hated physical contact other than necessary during sex, and affectionate touches made him flinch, even from his friends. This time, though, it didn't feel uncomfortable.

Eris touched the tip of their noses, and a different smile spread on his lips, as if he were delighted. Azriel liked that smile more than all the others he’d seen on the redhead’s face.

The shadowsinger withdrew his hands to the male’s chest, and Eris kept caressing his face. “It’s three to two for me,” he teased, and slowly plucked his cock out of him, to which Azriel mumbled a ‘prick’. “What about we have dessert before the next round?” He asked, standing on his feet and offering a hand to Azriel.

Azriel felt different around him after having sex; the usual scowl he used as self-defense was nowhere to be found. And he didn’t know why he took the male’s hand, or why he followed him back to the kitchen. Sex was mutual release, nothing more. Or it should be, because Azriel couldn’t remember any of it as Eris ate a spoonful of lemon mousse and kissed him.

It was unfair how no other kisses could compare to the ones he’d shared with Eris. “Where’d you learn to kiss like that?” He asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

Eris chuckled. “Why, Azriel, you like my mouth on yours?” He replied, taking another bite of the mousse. Azriel stared at his licking the spoon, and before he could process it, he was pulling Eris to him again, tangling his fingers in his hair as his tongue tasted the redhead’s mouth and the mousse they’d been eating. The High Lord parted the kiss and smirked. “I’ll take that as a yes. The only way for you to win against me is by making me cum twice next time, and even then it will be a draw.”

If he was being sincere, he didn’t care about it that much anymore. Both results of their bet favored him, so he would enjoy the night to its fullest. And maybe the morning.

--------

[Song: Apricity, J. T. Peterson]

Eris blinked as he felt sunlight touch his face. His eyes slowly adjusted to the clarity as he took in his room, and the being wrapped around him, sleeping soundly. His lips curled as he watched Azriel’s face, peaceful after the amazing night they’d had. A shiver coursed through him as he remembered the last turns.

He wasn’t expecting their bet to end in a draw, with not four, but five turns in which they both had reached pleasure. He didn’t even know he could cum that much in one night, and yet the shadowsinger had surpassed all his expectations. He hadn’t been wrong in insisting on him a bit more. He knew Azriel only needed a push to abandon that ridiculous rule.

He felt the Illyrian move atop him, but instead of waking up, his arms tightened more around him, and his face found a comfortable nest at the curve of his shoulder. It made something beam in his chest; the shadowsinger was full of surprises, and while most people might feel scared of him, all Eris could see now was a cute bat curling into him, seeking his warmth.

He also felt strange at the new feeling because no one had ever slept like that with him, nor clunged to him even while sleeping. With Eddar, it had always been the opposite, and the brown-haired male never opened up about inverting roles. Up until recent years, Eris had never tried being on top when going to bed with another male. Partly because he didn’t know if he would be good at it, his self-esteem was mined and crushed; and partly because he was afraid of Eddar finding out. What a silly fear to have.

And last night, Eris had felt something different. Something primal. Azriel was so responsive to his touches, so sensitive, and he had even allowed him to touch his wings, not only with his tongue, but with his hands when they went on the third round. For the looks of it, the male hadn’t tried that with anyone before, and had found a new kind of pleasure. The High Lord had liked every second of licking and tauting those majestic wings to earn moans from him, and only thinking about it made his cock awaken.

His arousal might have reached the Illyrian, because when Eris looked down, Azriel was staring at him. He hadn’t moved, though, his eyes darting from side to side, then going down his abdomen, observing the bulge that had formed there, pulsing against Azriel's thigh.

Eris ran a hand on Azriel’s back, feeling somewhat embarrassed, even though it was also a normal morning reaction. He gasped when the shadowsinger enveloped his shaft in his hand and started fisting him. The High Lord stared at him, groaning, tightening his arms around Azriel, who pressed their lips together in a quick kiss before shifting his weight over him.

The Illyrian went down, fitting between his legs, and Eris moaned as he felt his mouth on his cock, taking all of him in. He had to admit that Azriel had gotten better after last night, as if he’d paid attention to how he liked it, because his suckings were softer. His tongue rolled around the head in taunting flicks that had Eris launch his head back and growl, grabbing his black hair.

“Come here,” he called, pulling Azriel back up, and took his lips again, kissing him before he commanded, “I want you inside.”

He hid how much he liked the feral look in Azriel’s face, the lush desire with which he drank in his body. He was used to being stared at, used to being desired, but not like this. He knew Azriel wasn’t interested in anything other than what was here, in front of him. Not in his hand, in his title, in what his power would offer him.

Everybody knew who he was, so something always bothered him with his past lovers. They were too dedicated, even forceful, while trying to please him during sex, and he knew why. He hated it.

With Azriel, though, he knew that wasn’t an issue. As he felt the shadowsinger’s cock fill him after so many times last night, he yearned for more. For the natural teasing between them, for annoying the male and having someone treat him normally, not as a Lord, not as a ruler. For being desired for who he was, not what he was.

He moaned, circling Azriel’s shoulders and bringing him close as the male thrust inside him. He cupped the shadowsinger’s cheeks and joined their mouths in a searing kiss, throwing himself fully against the male, swinging his hips along him. His lips curved when Azriel grabbed the back of his head and his ass, speeding up, pulling at his hair just the way he liked. He learned fast, it seemed.

His release came not long after, making spasms course through his body, and he held Azriel’s face to him as he watched him cum from very close, marveling as Azriel's brows knitted and his mouth parted on a moan while the shadowsinger spilled into him. He was stunning, to say the least. He probably was the most handsome male he’d ever taken to bed.

They stared at each other, huffing, until Eris broke the silence. “Good morning,” he said, kissing Azriel again, unable to resist it.

He couldn’t piece the look in the male’s face as he kept staring, then returned the peck on his lips. “Morning.”

Azriel fell to the other side of the bed, and Eris sat, watching his sculpted body, the black tattoos spiraling on his skin.

“I’ll make us breakfast,” he said, rising on his feet. “I’m heading to the shower. Want to join me?” He invited.

Azriel’s eyes trailed over his body for a few seconds before he shook his head. “You go ahead first.”

Eris nodded, although he felt a bit disappointed. He headed to the bathroom, then quickly cleaned the remaining of cum on him. He left the bedroom when Azriel entered the bath and walked to the kitchen. With his apartment filled with supplies, he was swift in making them some eggs, bacon, and toast.

Azriel popped out in the dining room a while later, fully clothed and smelling like soap. Eris was already at the table, sipping from his coffee with a book in his hand. “Take a seat,” he pointed to the plate he’d prepared for him.

The shadowsinger obeyed and started eating after pouring himself some coffee as well.

“Do you have to work today?” Eris asked, setting the book closed by his side and taking a bite of his toast.

Azriel shook his head. “My old job is practically extinguished. I only help occasionally now.”

Eris studied him, propping his chin on his hand. “I see. So what do you do on a daily basis?”

“Train,” the male replied, shrugging, but his shoulders looked tense.

Was it all there was for the spymaster of the Night Court? Curiosity prickled under his skin, but Eris shoved it away. He wasn’t one to pry into others’ lives, and he wouldn’t start now.

Azriel then asked him, “Where are you headed today?”

“Out for a walk, I guess. Haven’t decided yet.”

“Do you want a list of tourist spots you can visit?” the shadowsinger offered, and Eris was surprised.

“Only if you accompany me there,” he winked, and Azriel rolled his eyes at him. “You being nice kind of scares me,” Eris repeated his sentence from the other night, and chuckled at the Illyrian’s face. “Just kidding. I’ll accept your suggestions. Please make sure to include places most people don’t know about.”

Azriel’s eyes twinkled in curiosity. “Thinking of hiding already?”

Eris shrugged. “I like the bustle of the city, but there are days I feel worn out. Some peace and calm are vital to me,” he shared. The shadowsinger nodded in understanding.

After that, they finished the meal in a comfortable silence. Eris led Azriel to the door, and once at the threshold, the male stared at him with that puzzling gaze. Was he expecting something? Since their bet had resulted in a draw, neither his nor Azriel’s wishes would be granted.

“Let me know when you want to borrow the symphodisk,” Eris reinforced, as he’d promised.

Azriel nodded, and turning on his heels, he headed next door, unlocking his apartment. Before entering, he said, “See you around.”

Chapter Text

Weeks passed.

Azriel had been called for a mission the week before and hadn’t been home for a few days. However, when he returned, he hadn’t caught a glimpse of Eris. They hadn’t spoken or seen each other on the days after they’d spent the night together, their schedules overlapping. Since then, Eris hadn’t invited him over, nor had he popped out of nowhere to tease him. The apartment next door was silent, and the shadowsinger wondered if the male had already departed.

The Illyrian had returned to his gloomy days, the breath of life he’d felt while around Eris having faded. He wouldn’t admit that, even though the High Lord pissed him off and always had a retort at the tip of his tongue, Azriel had quite liked being near him. It was as if the male’s fire chased away the darkness in his soul. His taunting personality and easy smiles, the gentleness with which Eris treated him, although undeserving, made him feel normal for once, not like the bringer of pain and darkness everyone thought him to be.

They hadn’t spoken much, but Azriel liked it. Had even felt interested in knowing more about the male, if only because no matter how much he scowled or shot angry responses at him, all it did was amuse the High Lord. He liked being around him because Eris didn’t balk from his harsh exterior, because he saw there was more to him than that.

But the shadowsinger knew better than to try to pursue things with him. Who knew how Eris would treat him once he saw how broken he was inside, how pitiful his life had become? He preferred to leave it like this, as a good memory.

Today, he was supposed to meet with Feyre at the Artists’ Quarter and have lunch with her, something he had postponed as much as he could. There would be no escaping his High Lady today, though. He bathed quickly, dressing up in his usual black attire, and then headed out of his apartment, shooting to the skies of Velaris. He landed at the central avenue, meandering through the streets, ignoring people staring at him, wary of his shadows.

[Song: Hendyamps studios, Misty Mountains]

In the distance, the large square came into view. The red stone of the mountains had been used to build a marvelous fountain, with three female statues pouring water into the wide pool underneath. A crowd had formed around it, though, which was unusual for this time of the day. Azriel reached closer, squeezing his way into the faeries bundled up, until he understood why people had gathered there.

Sitting on the brick edges of the fountain were three musicians playing. Two cellos and a violin echoed throughout the square, their sounds amplified by someone’s magic. The melody was a low tone of grave notes, a hymn to the majestic mountains of Velaris. The violinist was a blonde High Fae female, her eyes closed as she followed the lead of the other two. Her crossed legs and the floating white dress she wore made her look like a goddess. By her side, a toned brown-skinned male played the graver notes, his eyes watching the female with wonder. His hair was tied into two thick braids over his shoulders, and despite his size, despite the muscles that pressed against his light blue shirt, the male’s stroke on the chords was soft and steady.

But it wasn’t on them that the shadowsinger’s eyes were glued, twinkling with astonishment. The last musician, the other cellist, was the one who led the song. His cello sounded different from the other two players, deeper, full of the sorrow the song seemed to convey. The unbound red hair blew with the wind, and the male had a soft smile on his lips as he played with his eyes closed. His knitted brows and the motion of his long, slender fingers on the instrument made Azriel gawk at him, at the beauty of that song, until it ended, more quickly than he wished.

The red-haired male opened his eyes and bowed his head to the round of applause that followed, smiling at his two companions. He turned to the crowd and announced, “Alright, everyone, this is the last one!”

[Song: Hendyamps studios, The sound of silence]

This time, the two musicians sounded the first notes and then paused. The redhead was the only one who played for a short while, a beautiful solo full of emotion that sent a bolt to Azriel’s soul. He’d never heard that song, had never known a single instrument playing could strike him in such a way. The male slid the bow on the strings as if he and the cello were one, as if the instrument were yet a way to say what words couldn’t convey. Even when the other cello and violin joined him, deepening the melody, the redhead led the main echo, staring at the sky, smiling as his hand moved on the chords.

Azriel couldn’t tear his eyes from him. Because that male was no one other than the High Lord of the Autumn Court, pouring his soul into one of the most beautiful melodies the shadowsinger had ever heard. He’d stopped listening to anything around him, too mesmerized by the sight in front of him, by the gleam in Eris’s red hair as he played, by the smile glued on his lips. He seemed truly happy in that moment, giving all of himself to the song. If Azriel thought he was stunning before, now that word didn’t seem like enough.

The place faded around him, and Illyrian stared and stared at Eris across the street, as if there were only them in there. The High Lord’s eyes fell on him, and Azriel could swear he winked, keeping their gazes locked. It felt like Eris was playing for him to listen, and when the song ended, the shadowsinger wanted more. He wanted to hear him play for hours.

The crowd applauded again, cheering the musicians. The male and the female linked their arms after putting the instruments into the protection cover, exchanging a few words with the High Lord, and then waving their goodbye. The crowd dispersed, but Azriel was still in the same place, watching as Eris made his cello disappear into the air. The shadowsinger’s stomach fluttered when the redhead approached him, wearing his characteristic smirk.

“Hello, Azriel,” he saluted, and the Illyrian straightened. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you around lately.”

“Away in a mission,” he offered a short reply, but his eyes kept studying the High Lord’s features, his light-colored clothes in the Night Court fashion.

“Did you like it?” Eris asked, playing with a strand of his hair. “The song?” Azriel nodded, not risking saying anything else and embarrassing himself. The redhead tilted his head, falling into a stroll by his side as they followed toward the artists’ galleries. “Where are you heading now? Going out for lunch?”

He nodded again. “I’ll meet with Feyre at her studio,” Azriel replied, and when Eris shook his head in agreement, the shadowsinger found himself not wanting to part ways with him so soon. “Would you… like to join us? I think she’d be okay with that,” he invited, and didn’t understand why his stomach jumped over itself as the words left his mouth.

Eris glanced at him. “I'd rather not be inconvenient if you’ve scheduled it already,” he answered.

“It’s not a problem, it’s just company for lunch,” he explained, and scolded himself internally. Azriel didn’t want to sound so desperate, but the truth was, having Eris around could serve as a buffer. Not only would the High Lord engage in conversation with his High Lady, he would also make him feel at ease.

If Eris noticed that in his tone, he didn’t let it show. “Well, well, if you missed me that much, then I’ll join you,” he replied with that lazy smile.

Azriel scowled, only then realizing they’d arrived in front of the studio. Kids ran through the glass doors, their parents trailing behind them, nodding to the High Lord and passing by Azriel with no more than a wary look toward him. He didn’t let it get through his skin. Feyre appeared behind a couple, who shook hands with her and bade her farewell before going down the street.

The High Lady noticed them, her eyes sparking with joy as she saw Azriel. “Az!” She exclaimed, waving a hand. Thankfully, she didn’t hug him this time, for her gaze fell on Eris by his side. “Eris,” she nodded in greeting.

“High Lady,” he bowed slightly.

“Do we have room for one more?” He asked, tilting his head to the High Lord.

Feyre studied him, but before she replied, Eris said, “For lunch and for a class this afternoon.”

The High Lady smiled at that. “Sure. For you alone or Azriel, too?” She asked, and there was a tinge of hope in her voice.

“Sign us both,” Eris answered for him, cocking his head to the side.

“You have to stop speaking for me,” the shadowsinger snapped, frowning at the male.

“And you have to stop grimacing, I’m surprised you don’t have a permanent scowl on your face,” The High Lord replied, crossing his arms. “I doubt you have something better to do today, anyway. Where are we eating?” He asked, dismissing the shadowsinger with a hand.

Feyre chuckled, then gestured for them to follow her. “I hope you like spicy food, Eris. This place has one of the most famous traditional dishes of Velaris.”

Eris snorted, looking at Feyre. “Know your audience, My Lady,” he teased. “I’m a Fire Lord, remember?” He winked.

Azriel felt a throb down his spine at his words, a very indecent image playing in his mind of fire shackles and taunting pleasure. He shot that thought down, what the hell was wrong with his body today? He walked by Eris’s side, letting him talk with his High Lady, thanking him internally for his presence today, even though now he apparently was enrolled in an art class against his will. He might get the male something later, anyway.

As they entered the restaurant and were led to a table in a more private area, they all ordered that spicy dish for Eris to try. Azriel sat by Feyre’s side, the High Lord across from them.

“How are you finding your stay here, Eris?” Feyre asked, sipping from the water an attendant had brought them.

“Your city is lovely,” Eris replied. “I’ve been to all sorts of places the past week, there’s so much to do around here. I hope you don’t mind if I get some inspiration for my court.”

The High Lady opened a grin. “What would you like to replicate there?” She inquired.

“The art galleries are poorly tended to in Autumn, I’m afraid,” the High Lord shared. “I’d start by perhaps founding a cultural alley in some cities. It’s a wonderful idea.”

“I could offer some insights,” Feyre suggested. “I’d like to see the colors of Autumn myself.”

Eris’s lips curled. “By all means, be my guest. I’ll return next year, but Lucien can show you around if you decide to go before that.”

The High Lady nodded, her eyes twinkling with excitement. Azriel wondered what paintings she would amaze them with once she spent some time in the Autumn Court.

“I’ll send word when you return. Unfortunately, my son is still too young for me to stay away for long,” she replied, and Eris shook his head in agreement. “Speaking of culture, I’ve heard the residents of the Artists’ Quarter gossiping about a trio playing by the square the past two days, wondering why the Autumn High Lord would be playing live music,” Feyre pointed out.

“I’m rusty,” Eris shrugged, and Azriel stared at him with a frown. That was rusty? “I’m just having fun, I hadn’t had much time to play in the past few years.”

“Will you play again another day? I’d like to come by and watch,” the High Lady said, and Azriel shifted in his seat, also wanting to find out.

“Perhaps,” Eris drawled, his eyes dragging on the shadowsinger’s figure and opening a grin, as if sensing his interest. “If my two companions are still around. But tomorrow I might not, since I’ll go for a night out today.”

Feyre was about to say more when the dishes arrived.

Azriel watched as the High Lord poked at his food, studying it, then took a bite. His lips curled slightly when Eris’s face redened, and the tips of his pointed ears flushed. Eris chugged on his water right after swallowing it, and Feyre broke into a laugh.

“I see that even a mighty Fire Lord can’t stand the Vindaloo,” Azriel taunted, finally opening his mouth.

Eris stared him down, flipping him off, and the shadowsinger couldn’t help but laugh alongside Feyre. That was a sight he’d never forget, for sure.

“What the hell do they put in it? For the Cauldron, it feels like I’m eating charcoal,” Eris complained, studying his plate with a frown.

“You get used to it,” Feyre said, taking a bite of her own and looking completely fine, to the High Lord’s shock. “I had a full liter of water the first time I tried it,” she confessed.

“Will you be able to handle it, Eris?” Azriel teased him again, crossing his arms.

The High Lord squinted his eyes, as if studying an opponent. Then a wicked grin spread on his face.

“I never balk at a challenge, shadowsinger. But let’s make this more interesting, shall we?” He purred, and Azriel narrowed his eyes on him. “I bet I can finish this plate before you do yours. And if I do… You’ll have to hang out with me at the bar tonight.”

Azriel scoffed, “You can try.”

--------

[Song: Mwanga Wa Jua]

Eris had never tried anything that spicy in his entire life. His throat was sore, and he still felt his face hot. However, it had been worth every second of shoving down food. He’d laughed for a good five minutes after winning the bet he’d made with Azriel, and now, the shadowsinger followed behind him and Feyre as they headed back to her studio, all sullen.

It never ceased to entertain him to mock the Illyrian; he made too funny of a face for him to resist. Still, Eris was surprised by him actually joining the art lesson after lunch. The redhead had been kidding, but there they were, sitting across from each other with a blank canvas in front of them while the High Lady explained how to use the paints and brushes for different techniques.

“What are you painting?” Eris asked Azriel, drawing the Illyrian’s attention to him.

The shadowsinger merely said, “An ugly version of you.”

The High Lord snorted, shaking his head. “Good luck with that. I know capturing my beauty is only for the most skilled artists.”

Azriel rolled his eyes. “Sure. What about you?”

Eris held his chin, pretending to ruminate. “Now that you mentioned it, I might paint your big scowl. I need a funny portrait to laugh at on the bad days.” He chuckled at the frown on the shadowsinger’s face. They started painting, and after a few minutes, Eris said, “I hope you’re ready to shake that ass, because tonight we’re going to dance.”

“Are you going to Rita’s?” Azriel inquired without averting his eyes from the canvas.

“We are going, don’t forget. And don’t even think of running away, I’ll bang at your door until you come out,” the High Lord declared, winking.

“You’re insufferable,” the shadowsinger muttered.

After that, they fell silent as they painted, although Eris stole a few glances at the male in front of him from time to time. Feyre came by a few times to check on their art, chuckling as she saw his. Azriel’s curious eyes had lingered on them, wanting to peek at his painting, but Eris merely placed his pointer finger on his lips, showing him it was a secret.

Once the lesson was over, Eris gave Feyre his painting, explicitly prohibiting her from letting Azriel see, for the shadowsinger’s frustration. He would come to pick it up once the paint had dried. He scoffed when the Illyrian didn’t let him see his either, asking Feyre to hide it from Eris.

They waved at the High Lady and fell into step toward their building. The High Lord ordered food to take home from a restaurant, not without buying himself a lemon ice cream to eat along the way. Azriel had also bought a chocolate popsicle, and Eris didn’t want to admit that he’d glanced at the shadowsinger yet again, watching him suck the sweet and trail his tongue on it.

It was nice to spend time with him, to tease and play around, but Eris had decided to let the attraction he felt for Azriel cool down. He’d be traveling somewhere else soon, and they wouldn’t be seeing each other as often. Besides, he’d provoked the male enough already. He didn’t know if the shadowsinger wanted to repeat that heated night, nor if he liked making him company.

Despite it, the High Lord wanted to be friends with him. He could use another person he trusted, someone who wasn’t seeking anything from him other than his presence. He had very few members in his circle, and if he was truly honest, Lucien was the only one who knew everything about him. He had acquaintances, but not true friends to be there for him, no matter what. He had his father to curse for that, for isolating him for centuries, forcing him to distance himself from the Autumn folk, cutting off his ties.

Talking easily like he did to the people in the Night Court was something he craved more than he’d realized, and his days in Velaris had indeed been revigorating. Having Azriel come visit would be nice, perhaps he might have ideas as to how to deal with the difficult nobles, and could offer him some insights based on his years serving two High Lords of Night.

When they stood in front of their apartments, Eris said, “We leave at nine. Be ready.” He winked, then closed the door behind him.

Tonight, though, he wouldn’t think about all the things he had to deal with once he returned to Autumn. He was there to have fun, to let his mind break free from its chains, and so Eris would drink and dance. And perhaps record a few more songs to bring along on his trip. Night was young, after all.

--------

[Song: Make you mine]

Hours later, Azriel followed Eris inside the building near the Sidra River. Rita’s was already packed at that hour, and the two males squeezed their way to the bar, ordering some drinks. As the Fae bartender brought their cocktails, a mixture of citrus and heavy alcohol, Azriel shot a long gulp of his right through his throat at once.

“Wow, easy there,” Eris commented by his side. “Intending to get drunk so early?”

The spymaster’s eyes fell on Eris’s silhouette, tracing his elegant attire for a dance night. Those black trousers hugged his ass and thighs so perfectly that he felt his mouth watering just at the thought of biting them. His long-sleeved wine-red shirt had a sexy cleavage opening to his chest, exposing part of his torso, and his hair was tied in a golden thread above his head, highlighting his elegant features.

Azriel closed his eyes, trying to send those thoughts away. He couldn’t break his rule again, he knew it would lead him onto a dangerous road. Surely, Eris was attractive as hell, and the shadowsinger felt drawn to his vibrant aura, like a moth reaching for the light. Surely, Eris was the best sex he’d ever had. However, that rang alarm bells in his mind. It screamed dangerous addiction, and he knew that if he continued desiring the High Lord of Autumn, he would have only himself to blame once he fell on his face.

“I can hold my alcohol well,” he retorted, averting his eyes from the male’s.

“Well, I’m having this one and then heading to the dance floor. And you’re coming with me, so save being dizzy for later,” Eris stated, and Azriel watched him sip from his drink. His hand was itching to touch the male’s thigh over those pants, but he clenched his fists to restrain himself.

They would be better off as friends, he tried to trick his mind. He didn’t want to spoil what they had somehow built, that easiness around each other, the sense of normalcy. He’d had fun that afternoon and had never imagined painting would reveal itself to be an enjoyable activity, even though he lacked the skill. But he’d liked the final result of his art because it teased Eris. He almost laughed as he remembered his painting.

“What are you smiling at?” The High Lord asked, his brow raising in question.

“None of your business,” Azriel replied with a bored expression.

“Rude,” Eris stuck out his tongue, and the shadowsinger gulped. “Let me ask you a question. Although we’ve had that bet, you didn’t have to spend the day with me. You could have refused, and yet you didn’t. Why?”

“I always pay my debts,” Azriel answered, but his eyes kept falling to Eris’s mouth more times than he cared to admit.

“Hm. Is that all?” The redhead insisted, propping his head on his hand. “I thought you despised my presence.”

“You’re tolerable,” the shadowsinger retorted, and the air got stuck in his throat as Eris laughed. He truly couldn’t piece together what it was that the High Lord found so funny about him.

“Come, let’s dance.”

The redhead pulled him toward the dance floor, and Azriel let himself feel the loud beat of the song as they stared at each other in the sea of bodies moving around them. Eris started swinging his hips, and for a moment, the Illyrian stiffened, watching him. Azriel knew Eris danced well, but that hadn't caught up to him until now as he followed the curve of his waist, swaying seductively. Noticing he was as still as a statue, the High Lord pulled him closer, pressing his back to Azriel’s chest, just like that night at the Autumn tavern. His hand slid along Azriel’s arm, luring his attention, then went up to grab the back of Azriel's neck. He rolled his hips, moving his body against the shadowsinger’s, inviting him to move along.

How could he resist this? Blaming the alcohol he’d shot down, when a new song started playing, Azriel flattened his hand on Eris's abdomen. If dancing was what he wanted, then… The High Lord covered it with his own, and the shadowsinger brought his mouth to Eris’s neck, leaving a trail of kisses as he started swaying his hips in the same rhythm as Eris, pressing his crotch against the male’s ass. His free hand grabbed his outlined waist and moved up and down, going into the Lord’s cleavage and caressing his bare torso.

Azriel let the beat take control of him as he danced, and he turned Eris around, bringing his arms to circle his shoulders, his hands gripping the High Lord’s waist hard as their bodies pressed against each other. Eris’s eyes were ablaze, and the beat filled their veins as they swung their hips in the same rhythm, their legs now intertwined. When Eris undulated down, Azriel went with him, letting his hand travel along the male’s back to grab his nape. They moved up again, and Eris reached closer, his forehead touching Azriel’s as the redhead’s hands explored his torso. Their mouths were almost touching while they danced, and Azriel’s hands pulled the redhead’s ass forward.

“You’re making it very difficult for me not to want to kiss you,” Eris said against his ear, nibbling his earlobe.

Azriel hissed when Eris started moving up and down, rubbing his crotch on his thigh. He was making it difficult? He didn’t have much time to linger there, though, because Eris’s eyes fell to Azriel’s lips, and with one intent look, he lunged forward, clashing their mouths together. Fire erupted in the Illyrian’s veins at the taste of him, at the flowing heat in his blood. He closed his eyes, sliding his tongue into Eris’s mouth, devouring him, tightening his hold on his body.

A kiss was ok. He could keep it at that tonight, he had come to Rita’s for a night fling a few times. But his body fucking burned with desire, his mind fogging as he felt those lips on his. He tasted so good that Azriel couldn't take deep breaths, taking more and more of Eris.

Once they parted the kiss, panting and aroused, the High Lord smirked. “Let’s grab another drink.”

Azriel did his best to cool down, heading back to the bar. Desperation ran through him as realized he had no control over that need, over that urge to feel Eris's naked body under his palms again. He needed to get the redhead out of his head, for fuck’s sake. He hadn’t gone to bed with anyone else after him; that might be why he couldn’t think straight around the High Lord.

The shadowsinger chugged on his drink, muttering an excuse of needing to use the toilet and leaving Eris on the counter. He tucked in his wings, slithering among the crowd, and being a good distance away, he scanned the dancing floor. His eyes fell on a curvy female, medium height, long white hair, and gleaming dark skin. Different flesh, gorgeous body.

Azriel walked toward her, and as she noticed him, her eyes told him she would invite his approach, her mouth curling in a beautiful smile. Without a second thought, the shadowsinger took her lips in a kiss, bringing her body against him, tunneling his fingers in her light hair. She tasted like citrus and lemon, and her curves would have enticed him any other day. However, it didn’t spark anything in him now.

He danced with her as they kissed, but it didn’t feel right. Something thrashed inside him, that wasn’t the taste he craved to feel, that wasn’t the body he wanted to unravel. It didn’t fit well. The Illyrian deepened the kiss when the female wrapped her arms around his shoulders, but it still did nothing to stir desire inside him. He parted their mouths, staring at her. Her hair was too pale, her body too short, her eyes didn’t glint in the light. This wasn’t what he wanted. He retreated, muttering an ‘I’m sorry’ and going to the restroom.

He splashed water on his face, gripping the edges of the sink. Would he really compare every next person to Eris? He couldn’t live like this; he needed a way out of this situation. He breathed in deeply a few times, schooling his features. He left the restroom, walking toward the bar, but stopped halfway there.

Something roared in his chest as he watched the body he ached to touch in another’s arms, sharing a passionate kiss. Eris had his hands on a blond male’s chest while the guy devoured his mouth, holding the back of his head. That inner beast thrashed and fought inside him as Azriel’s fists curled, his nails digging into his palms.

He’d asked for this, had been the first to make it clear they could be with other people. He should be satisfied that his attitude had drawn the line, but he was far from happy. It should be him kissing Eris, it should be him whom the High Lord clung to, it should be him to take the redhead home and fuck him against a wall.

Unable to look at the scene any longer, Azriel winnowed back to his apartment, watching the darkness clinging to the corners of his bedroom. This was his reality, and Eris wasn’t a part of it. Why would he be? He didn’t even know what the High Lord found so amusing about him, since even he himself didn’t like his own company. He was pitiful.

Azriel sank into the cold water of his bath a while later, coiling into himself, hiding his head on his knees. He felt so alone, so envious of all his friends being home now with their mates, happy and warm. He cursed at the ceiling for his inability to find that happiness, for always screwing up with his life. Had he returned home with Eris tonight, he might be having a wonderful time right now, eating good food and enjoying nice company, forgetting about his woeful existence. Hadn’t he left the High Lord alone, that blonde wouldn’t have dared approach.

That night, Azriel rolled and rolled on his bed, but sleep didn’t find him. His shadows had spread along the corridor during the wee hours, vigilant for the High Lord’s return.

But Eris didn’t come home.

Chapter Text

Azriel had just locked his door when he heard boots climbing the stairs. It was six in the morning, and he was about to start an early training session when his eyes crossed with Eris’s at the end of the corridor, still wearing the same clothes from last night, hair still tied up. The High Lord meandered toward him, stopping in front of him with a question in his eyes.

“Morning,” he saluted out of politeness, and his voice sounded… distant. Empty. His eyes studied the shadowsinger, taking in his fighting outfit. “You came back early yesterday, it seems.”

“I had a headache,” Azriel murmured the excuse, walking past the redhead, dodging him.

The male didn’t seem a bit convinced as he spun on his heels. “Azriel,” he called, and the Illyrian turned to face him. “Are you mad at me?”

“No, why?” He asked, keeping his face neutral, not wishing to reveal that he was indeed bothered.

Eris walked closer, his blazing eyes piercing him. “Then why are you avoiding eye contact?”

The shadowsinger took a step back. “No reason.”

“Are you bothered that I was with someone else last night?” Eris inquired, and Azriel blinked.

“Whoever you take to bed is none of my business,” he retorted, ruder than he wished to sound.

Eris’s eyes flickered. He didn’t smile, didn’t wear his usual smooth expression, didn't even scoff. No, his jaw tickled, and the way he stared at him, with judgment, didn’t sit well with Azriel.

“Right, I’ll pretend I don’t care, too, if that’s how you choose to act,” the High Lord snapped, and the shadowsinger flinched. Eris had never spoken to him like that, and he felt worse.

“Enjoy your day,” Azriel said, then didn’t wait for a reply. He winnowed to the skies and headed toward the House of Wind.

He would train there today, even though he risked crossing paths with his friends.

--------

Eris gripped the letter he received from his brother a few minutes after entering his apartment that morning, fuming and tired. His encounter with Azriel had stirred up his anger, and the High Lord didn’t know why it had bothered him that much when the shadowsinger acted so indifferent toward him.

He had seen Azriel kissing that female from the bar, right after kissing him and lying about going to the restroom. He had felt used, even though he had told himself he wouldn’t pursue the Illyrian again. He’d been so pissed off that, when that blond male approached him with flirty eyes, he hadn’t refused, throwing himself at the new flesh in hopes he could wipe out that image from his head, of that female in the shadowsinger’s arms gripping him.

However, after a few minutes, he lost interest in the male and dismissed him. Bland release wasn't what he wanted. He had looked all around for Azriel, hoping to talk to him, but he was nowhere to be found. Trying not to think that the shadowsinger might have taken someone home, Eris gave up, deciding to go for a stroll along the river. He'd recorded some songs he heard on the way, marveling at the Night Court’s style, which had helped him let go of his annoyance a bit. He’d sat at the rail and watched the sunrise, for it’d been a while since he’d last appreciated the sun kissing a river’s waters in the morning, bathing the world with light.

He wasn’t expecting to cross paths with the shadowsinger when he reached his apartment a while later. He had no other scent in him, which meant… he hadn't bedded anyone. But that relief was short-lived, because it had stung more than he cared to admit to be treated so coldly. And now he had yet another problem on his hands.

Eris,

Everything is smooth in the Autumn Court. The nobles have kept to themselves, although some still look down on me. It's a good thing you left signed documents behind, or it would have been more difficult to get them to accept the orders.

There is a matter you should know about, though. Eddar Thornhill was absent from the council meetings a few times last week, and the sentinels said he has not been home for a week. He barged into the office some days ago, requesting to know where you are, but I didn’t oblige him.

He might try to contact you or even go after you, so don’t stay at the same place for long. Velaris is safe against him, I am sure Rhysand keeps a strict record of who he allows into the city. However, take care on your following trip, Eris. I don’t want you to get hurt.

Honestly, brother, get rid of him, for your own sake.

Best regards,

Lucien.

The High Lord took a long breath. Couldn’t he have a moment’s peace, for Cauldron’s sake? He should indeed get rid of the male, but he had already stripped Eddar’s father of his title and taken his life to make an example of him. He hated having to resort to drastic measures, but the nobles who were favorable to Beron were still the majority of the council, even after his father’s death. He didn't want to be a tyrant.

Eris pinched the space between his brows, considering.

The best option for the next destination was, indeed, the Day Court’s capital, since Helion also kept a tab on who entered the city, and it was heavily warded. He was a week away from traveling again, so it was wiser to stay there for a while until he came up with a plan.

His eyes fell on his newly acquired cello, and he smiled despite himself.

Music always helped him center his thoughts, calm his mind, and so, Eris made himself breakfast, placing the food and the coffee on the side table by the couch. He took the instrument in his hands and sat, summoning his symphodisk. It was a good moment to try out something he’d been yearning to do while eating what he liked.

--------

[Song: Ashitaka Sekki - From Monoke Hime]

Hours later, sweating and tired, the shadowsinger winnowed home to bathe and go after something to eat. He was drying his hair with a towel, halfway to his bedroom, when he heard a faint melody sounding from the other side of the wall. His chest ached; he knew that song, had heard it weeks ago at the Palace of Moonlight.

Azriel passed a shirt over his head and slipped into a pair of pants, then went to the living room, reaching closer to the wall to hear it better. It wasn’t the orchestra version of it, but something even more beautiful. He closed his eyes at the sound of the cello performing the same melody, and he couldn’t place the feeling in his heart as he listened. He had to see it.

The Illyrian merged into the shadows and, without an invitation, sneaked under his door and into Eris’s apartment.

Eris sat on the couch, the cello placed between his legs, eyes focused on the bow sliding on the strings. The High Lord had two small glowing orbs plucked into his ears, the symphodisk glinting by his side as his fingers traveled along the instrument, learning the song he had recorded.

He crept to a shadowy corner, watching the redhead immersed in the music. He gleamed as he played, and Azriel only found him more handsome. His chest ached, wishing they hadn’t fought earlier, that he hadn’t acted that way.

The song came to an end, and Eris set the bow aside, taking a sip from a mug of coffee. Dread filled the shadowsinger’s body when the High Lord’s eyes fell where he was hidden, and lingered there for a while, as if checking for danger lurking around.

“I didn’t take you for a coward,” Eris said, coldly, reclining on the backrest after placing the cello on the armchair by his side. “Are you just going to hide?”

How he knew, how he'd felt his presence, Azriel didn't know. When he didn’t reply or move, the High Lord stood, stepping closer to the poted plant where the shadowsinger hid in the shadow.

Eris crossed his arms and stared down. “Come out. Don’t test my patience,” he commanded, his voice exuding authority.

Azriel was mortified, but he obeyed this time. His figure took form in front of the redhead, and they stared at each other in silence. The Illyrian couldn’t read the look in Eris’s eyes, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

To his surprise, the High Lord pulled him by the wrist and shoved him onto the couch, standing tall as he studied him.

“Now, let’s talk,” the male said with a scowl. “Why are you avoiding me, and then creeping under my door?” When Azriel still didn’t answer, Eris gripped his chin and forced him to look up at him. “Right, since you’re not willing to share your end, then I’ll start.” Eris’s eyes blazed with flames, and the shadowsinger shivered at the intensity of his stare. “I saw you. Kissing that female. Do you think I liked being kissed and then watching you with someone else? Hm?”

The High Lord bent down, his knee pressing the cushion between Azriel's legs as his hand grabbed the backrest by the shadowsinger’s sides. Azriel’s breath got stuck in his throat at the feel of their bodies almost touching again, at the need that coursed through him.

“You pissed me off real bad, Azriel,” Eris went on. “I wanted you to feel the same. I wanted you to feel jealous, so yeah, I kissed someone else, too. I guess that’s why you’re all sullen.”

Azriel frowned, exposing his teeth. “You only arrived in the morning,” he snapped. “I guess one of us had fun, at least.”

Eris scoffed, grabbing his chin hard and bringing his face closer. “I didn’t take him to bed,” he stated, and the shadowsinger released a breath of relief he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I searched for you after dismissing the guy, but you ran away.” He tsked, narrowing his eyes on him. “Then I went for a walk to clear my thoughts, so thanks for ruining the night.”

That sentence stung, and darkness clutched his heart. “If I ruin everything for you, then let go,” Azriel barked in rage, ripping his chin from Eris’s hand, not daring to touch the male. “Why hang out with someone who spoils your fun? Why do you even bother dragging me to places with you?”

Eris’s eyes roared in flames now, and Azriel wanted to coil at them. “I see. So that’s the problem. You think so low of yourself that you ruin the things you like on your own before someone ruins it for you.”

It struck Azriel right in his heart as those words left the High Lord’s mouth. It was true, and his hands curled into fists. He gritted his teeth, trying to wear his rage on his face, even though that darkness fought to erupt out of his chest, even though he wanted to hide from Eris’s gaze. The High Lord’s eyes flickered, studying him, not with fear, not with disappointment, but with… Understanding. The flames in them eased out, calming, and he brought Azriel’s face closer.

“Let me remind you, Azriel, that since the beginning, I suggested that you and I have some fun together. And just like you, I wasn't expecting it to go this way, now that we have a situation here. I’m not trying to force you into anything, but I don’t like to share my partner, no matter how brief the involvement.”

Something sparked in his eyes as Eris trailed his fingers on the shadowsinger’s face, and once again, Azriel felt like leaning into his palm, his grimace fading as Eris spoke.

“I thought you didn’t want to go on after that night, but then you kissed me again yesterday, and you are clearly jealous. I had thought about letting you go, but I’ve changed my mind.” Azriel trembled as the High Lord brushed his hair and straddled him, sitting on his lap. “I’ll say it just this once: I want you. I want to explore things with you. Do you want me?”

“You’ll get tired of me soon enough,” Azriel murmured, coiling from the redhead’s stare. His eyes widened when Eris slapped him across the face, and his hand went up to his burning cheek. “What was that for?!” He snarled.

“You’ll get slapped everytime you say bullshit,” Eris declared, rolling his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, pull yourself together, what a shitty self-esteem. Cauldron spare me.” The High Lord shook his head in denial. “Now answer the damned question. Do you want me? I’m not going to insist anymore.”

Azriel’s throat bobbed as he stared at Eris. Maybe it was the certainty in his eyes; maybe it was the way his words struck and soothed him at the same time; maybe it was the memories they’d made together, or maybe it was just his foolish heart that so desperately wished to feel everything he denied it, to suck in the light that glinted from Eris. His arms circled the High Lord’s waist, and the shadowsinger pressed his forehead on the male’s chest. “Yes.”

He shivered when Eris tunneled his fingers in his hair and leaned his chin atop his head. “See? Was it that difficult to admit?” Eris asked.

Yes. Yes, it was. Azriel couldn’t tell him that admitting what he wanted cost him. That voicing his desires could be something used against him. That ignoring his wishes and pretending they didn’t matter was way more comfortable than suffering later. Some people recovered quickly from emotional downfalls, but not him. He wasn’t strong enough to heal the wounds in his soul, not strong enough to fight that darkness. The easiest way was shoving it down and trying to live day after day, hoping it would fade away someday.

Eris cupped his cheeks, making Azriel look up at him. “I won’t hurt you,” he declared, his eyes blazing with warmth as if he’d sensed the cold taking the shadowsinger’s heart. “I don’t expect you to be anyone other than yourself. I'm not expecting anything from you. I feel like I can be me with you, and you have no idea how great it feels to be normal for once. I want to do the things I’ve denied myself, and I want you to do what you wish, Azriel. There’s no need to label things, just enjoy what we both want.” The Illyrian closed his eyes when Eris pressed a kiss to his forehead, tightening his arms around him. “I’ll always be sincere with you, and whenever you feel insecure about what I’m thinking, ask me. Talk to me. Throw things on my face if need be, but don’t hide. Don't set me up on a guessing game.”

“You talk a lot, don’t you?” Azriel teased him, but whined when Eris pinched his rib.

“Well, someone has to,” the High Lord bit the words. “Luckily, I’m very good at communicating. And you’re going to learn it. Let’s practice. Tell me one thing you want. Anything.”

The shadowsinger drank him in, traveling his hands on the redhead’s waist. His eyes darkened as he answered, “I want to fuck you. But…” He hesitated, his gaze falling on the cello by the couch. “I-I want you to play that song again for me,” he stuttered.

It pained him to make such a request, to ask someone to do something for him, for his pleasure. But Eris grinned, and there was wonder in his eyes as he stroked his thumb on his cheek.

The High Lord brushed his mouth against Azriel’s. “It will be my pleasure. Both of your requests,” he murmured.

“Hmph…” The Illyrian moaned when their lips clashed in a kiss, when Eris wrapped his arms around his shoulders and pressed against him. Yes. This. Him. That was what he wanted, what he had wanted last night and had tried to avoid by searching for another. His tongue slid against Eris’s, lacing it and taking all of that rich scent, wishing to uncover every corner of the male’s mouth, to delve into his warmth.

His hands trailed under the High Lord's shirt, palming his muscles on his abs and back, and Azriel brought him closer, grunting at the feeling of his soft skin. He got rid of Eris's shirt, parting the kiss to take it off his head, then bringing the male’s mouth back to his, kissing him deeply as his hands went for the trousers.

Eris snapped his fingers, and all their clothes disappeared in a blink. Azriel smirked. A High Lord's magic surely had its perks. The smile faded as he moaned against Eris's lips when their cocks rubbed together, the redhead’s hips rolling over him, tauting and provocative.

“I was so fucking pissed when I watched that female in your arms,” Eris confessed, biting the shadowsinger's lips and traveling his fingers on Azriel's torso, his neck, his back. The High Lord brought his mouth to his ear and whispered, “Hadn’t you been so stubborn, it would have been me. It should have been me.”

The shadowsinger growled, scooping Eris in his arms and flipping them on the couch, pressing the redhead on the cushions and the male's head on the armrest, coming atop him.

“When I kissed her,” Azriel said against his lips, and didn't fight the words as they came out. “I thought it was wrong. Everything was wrong, it didn't fit. Because it wasn't you. I wanted you.”

Eris snarled, and the kiss he took Azriel in made him quiver. His cock throbed brushing against Eris's length, as the High Lord ran his hands on his body, gripping at every curve, every muscle. His tongue teased his so wet and steady that the shadowsinger knew he wouldn't get tired of that mouth anytime soon, if ever. Eris wasn't only a good kisser; he studied how Azriel liked it, how to make it feel even better.

“Now I know how to make you talk, shadowsinger,” Eris taunted him as he pulled his lower lip with his teeth. “You could have kept pretending you don't want me, and I would've kept proving you wrong,” he said, gripping Azriel by the shaft, making him groan at the warm palm stroking him. “I could pretend I'm not attracted as hell to you, but I don't want to. Not anymore.”

Eris kissed him again before taking Azriel's hand in his and sucking two of the Illyrian's fingers while the other hand pumped the shadowsinger's cock. Azriel's mind fogged, entranced by how sexy it was to watch the High Lord's face while his digits went in and out of his mouth.

Azriel brought those fingers down, rubbing one on Eris's entrance as he lowered his face to kiss the male again, unable to get enough of his taste.

“You know, Eris,” he murmured, moving that finger into him, teasing that sweet spot inside the High Lord. Eris hissed, grabbing Azriel’s biceps, and the Illyrian huffed against his mouth as he felt his ass clench his finger. “I never once broke my rule of one night. Ever. Now I know why,” Azriel declared, inserting a second finger, liking too much the face the High Lord was making as he rubbed his prostate. “No one stood out,” he went on, “no one cared to give me what even I didn't know I wanted.”

“Mmn…” Eris moaned under his breath, making a vial of oil appear and handing it to him. It seemed he also couldn't wait to feel him inside. “How do I stand out?”

Azriel wetted his fingers with oil, pumping his cock as his eyes didn't leave Eris's for one second. “You pay attention.” He positioned himself in the male's entrance, his dick pulsing with so much need that it pained him to find release. “No one ever made me burn inside. I kissed you for the first time and I knew it would be different.”

His cock went inside, and they moaned together as their bodies joined as one. Eris circled his shoulders and locked his ankles at the small of his back, eyes glinting with that roaring fire. Azriel held his ass with a hand while the other tunneled in his stunning hair.

“Gods, you feel so damned good inside, so freaking perfect when you squeeze my cock like that.” He started thrusting into Eris, letting his moans out, devouring the High Lord with his eyes as he watched his face contorted in pleasure.

“I was mad when I saw you kissing that guy,” he rasped, clenching Eris's ass to him and speeding up. “I went away because I didn't want to admit you affect me this much.” Rough plunges, in and out, and Azriel drank Eris's cries, snarling as he fucked the High Lord and delighted at the feel of his body under him, around him. “I didn't want to admit you were all I could think about,” he said.

“Then take what you want, Azriel,” Eris purred his name, opening a naughty smile. “Break some more rules with me. Make me burn inside, too.”

Azriel captured his mouth, parting his lips and taking Eris's tongue in a scorching kiss, one that sent shivers down his spine. His other hand went down, and as he clasped the High Lord’s butt cheeks, the shadowsinger stood, carrying Eris to the nearest wall. He pressed the male's back against it and plunged himself back into him, hissing at the tightness.

“Ngh… Azriel…” Eris wailed, dragging his nails on his back. He passed his arms under Eris's knees and grabbed his ass harder, his moans muffled against the High Lord's mouth as he fucked him roughly. Again and again, the thwack of their hips colliding and their bodies so tightly pressed made the Illyrian forget everything around him. Yes, he wanted to fuck this male many, many more times, wanted to see his seed spilled all over him, to bite and lick him whole.

“Agh!” He cried out when Eris brushed his wing, soft under its curve, his hand warm and gentle. Azriel duck his head on the High Lord's neck, sniffing him, sucking his skin as his cock slammed into Eris repeatedly, fast, steady, and the redhead's strangled sounds reverberated all over Azriel's body.

Cum, he wanted to cum and gorge him full, to feel that ass milking him dry as the High Lord came, and so, the shadowsinger unleashed himself, biting Eris's neck hard as he plunged deep inside him and roared. He spilled and spilled himself, shaking at the force of his orgasm, marveling as Eris cried out while he spurted into him, hot splurts marking Azriel's abdomen and chest with the male's cum.

The shadowsinger took his lips in a kiss as their bodies calmed down, placing him back on his feet, but didn't untangle his arms from him. He wanted to drown in that tight embrace, in the feeling of Eris's hands trailing his back, his hair, of how perfect he felt between his arms.

When they parted the kiss, steadying their breaths, Azriel couldn’t help but stare at him with wonder. It struck him then, when he remembered the High Lord was leaving Velaris soon. Eris smiled at him, as if reading the question in his eyes.

“Come with me on the trip,” he asked, caressing the shadowsinger’s face. “I’d love to have company, especially someone who appreciates music as I do.”

Azriel rested his head on the curve of Eris’s neck, pondering. He circled Eris's waist, and the High Lord wrapped his arms around his shoulders. It wasn’t as if he were doing anything with his life now, and surely enough, Rhys had a way to contact him should he need him for a mission. It was so rare to be called off these days that time was abundant, so abundant that the boredom let the door open for his inner demons to come. But this male between his arms had the strange ability to chase away those horrible thoughts, to make him feel normal again, as he so desperately wanted to.

He nuzzled his nose on Eris’s ear, breathing in his spice-sweet scent. If traveling with him helped him heal, helped him find a purpose… then so be it. His presence wasn’t that remarkable, but if it entertained him… Eris was open-minded and daring. He saw the world from a different perspective. Perhaps he could learn from him to live a life he enjoyed.

Azriel pressed a kiss on the curve of Eris’s neck as he replied, “Alright.”

The High Lord opened a beautiful smile, full of that delight Azriel liked to see in his face. Eris kissed him again and declared with glinting eyes. “Then let's travel, Azriel.”

And it was then, at the end of Spring, that their adventure began.

Chapter Text

Eris had declared that their first stop would be the Dawn Court’s capital. According to him, he had gone too many times to the Day Court already, and now that he had an “escort”, he could go anywhere. And so, Nagara was their first stop. Azriel hadn’t been to the third of the solar courts that much; it had been mostly his spies scattered there who reported to him.

Azriel had let Rhysand know of his plans, but didn’t explain his reasons for spending some time away from home, and his brother hadn’t asked. The Autumn High Lord hadn’t been mentioned, and the shadowsinger wanted it to stay that way. He was set on not having prying eyes on his private life, and traveling meant he could let go of the feeling of being watched at the Night Court for a while. He knew his family kept an eye on him to make sure he was still alive, but still, sometimes their overprotectiveness was a little too much.

Traveling also served as a form of getting away from the things that hurt him, things that he had no control over, things that he could do nothing about. And not being able to act on a problem and find solutions was agonizing, to say the least. Staying in Velaris didn’t help him make peace with what he could not accept, a truth he couldn’t bear.

Thankfully, he’d found a solution for his nights out drinking and fighting and fucking. He would stay around Eris as long as the High Lord allowed him to, if only because his presence was the only thing recently that made him feel good things.

“Are you telling me this is all you have in your wardrobe?”

Azriel didn’t know why he felt embarrassed as Eris stared wide-eyed at his open closet, scanning the different variations of black clothes hanging in there. The High Lord had taken upon the task of helping him pack since he had nothing better to do that afternoon. The shadowsinger hadn’t had time to block him from entering his apartment, nor could he, really, after sneaking into Eris’s without an invitation.

But the redhead didn’t comment on the lack of furniture, on the monotonous gray walls, and the empty aura of his place. He’d simply asked where the bedroom was and strode there, going straight for the wardrobe. The creature clawing at his chest at having someone in his most private space slowly, slowly crawled back to the darkness, his sweating palms and pressed lips giving space to… easiness.

Why didn’t he feel that ashamed of letting Eris see that? Why was it that this male, whom he’d known and hated for centuries, was the only one to see past his defenses, and yet treat him like he was any other person? Eris treated everyone the same, from the interactions he’d seen with his friends this past month. Was he like that in Autumn, too? Open and blunt and caring? Did he have friends there? What had his life truly been like for him to turn out like this when Beron had been anything but kind?

“Ok, we’re going shopping.” The High Lord turned on his heels to face him, determination shining in his amber eyes.

“Again…?” Azriel sighed, and the side of Eris’s mouth curled up. “What’s the problem with my clothes? It’s just clothes…”

“I’m sure you don’t believe that one bit, Azriel,” Eris replied, propping his chin on his hand. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t always wear black. You know very well that clothes also serve as armor.”

Again, the High Lord saw right through him. Those words got stuck in his mind. Indeed, he wore black to hide himself. Yes, he didn’t want anyone staring at him longer than necessary. He didn’t want to be noticed.

Eris stepped closer, running a hand on his chest until he grabbed his chin gently. “But I’ll show you a different sort of armor.” He bit Azriel’s chin, and Azriel could do nothing against the shiver that ran through his spine at that provocation. “We’ll go shopping in Nagara. Thesan’s people have excellent taste in quality fabrics. I’m sure we’ll find perfect sets for you, since the Peregryns also have wings.”

“Are you going to make me carry your bags again?” The shadowsinger’s voice oscillated as he followed the male closing his bag on the bed.

Eris looked over his shoulder, winking at him. “Only this time they will be your bags.”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Show me all you have in shades of blue, gray or silver, and wine red for starters. The upper part must have openings for wings,” Eris asked the shop owner as they entered one of the galleries in Nagara, the capital of the Dawn Court, days later.

There weren’t many customers around, but the High Lord placed a few golden coins on the counter for the owner to close the store just for them while they tried on clothes. Azriel watched as Eris meandered to the center table and analyzed the pieces the brown-haired faerie displayed on it, explaining something about the material used to sew them.

The shadowsinger’s attention was solely on the High Lord, though. On how his brows arched slightly when he was focused, how his hands trailed the different fabrics, how his mouth moved while he spoke. Perhaps he’d gotten whatever disease Eris had for finding him entertaining, because it seemed Azriel had started suffering from the same ailment. Watching the redhead roam about and hang the clothes in the fitting room was compelling.

“Azriel,” Eris called, gesturing for him to enter the space. He blinked. The owner had disappeared back to the front of the store, giving them privacy. “Go model for me, will you?”

“Am I your doll now?” He taunted, dragging the drape to the side.

“I’ll give you a treat later if you let me play with you,” Eris retorted, a naughty grin spreading on his lips.

“Stop looking at me like that. Pervert…” Azriel mumbled, narrowing his eyes. He closed the drapes shut in the male’s face, hearing him chuckle on the other side.

He studied the midnight blue shirt and gray trousers that were the first set. The shirt had a long neck and was long-sleeved, and the tailored jacket to wear above it, in a dark gray stone shade, was embroidered with glinting silver curls along the edges. It seemed too fancy for his tastes, but he was just appeasing the male’s curiosity. His eyes traveled along the other variations Eris had selected for him to try on, and it caught his attention the dark wine red pants with a matching jacket. Beneath it, the undershirt was the exact shade of the green in his hazel eyes.

Would he truly look good in these colors? Although in dark tones, it was still too vibrant, too outstanding.

Azriel slid into the first set anyway.

When he opened the drape and stepped outside, he could swear Eris’s eyes widened slightly, flickering at the sight of him. The High Lord quickly blinked whatever had crossed his mind away, and stood from the armchair he’d been sitting in.

“Well, well…” He drawled, walking closer. “Look at you. What a piece of heaven.”

For whatever reason, whatever plague that clutched at him whenever the High Lord gave him that look, full of delight and raw desire, Azriel’s face flushed.

“Must you be so outspoken?” The shadowsinger grumbled, averting his eyes as Eris rounded him to inspect his outfit.

He gasped when the High Lord wrapped his hands around his waist, turned him to face the mirror, and pulled him against his chest. “Don’t be shy,” he dragged his voice, traveling his fingers along Azriel’s clothes. “You look absolutely gorgeous.”

A memory flashed in Azriel’s mind.

“You look absolutely gorgeous, Az! Look!”

The little boy trembled as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, at the cobalt blue shirt his mother had slid him into. His large eyes fixed on the female behind him, on her bright smile as she scanned her work, ruffling his hair.

“My beautiful baby boy,” she pressed a kiss to his cheek, her hands leaning on his shoulders. “The one to marry you will be so lucky!”

Her arms wrapped around his neck in a hug, and their eyes locked through the mirror. Azriel placed his bandaged hands on top of his mother’s arms, his gaze teary. “Mom…”

“Azriel… Azriel!”

He blinked, finding not his mother, but the Autumn High Lord staring at him across from the mirror, amber eyes sparking as he studied him. His heart skipped a beat when Eris rested his chin on his shoulder, his arms circling his waist from behind. Azriel did his best not to lean against his warmth, not to drift into his arms.

"What did you say?"

“I was right,” Eris murmured, his lips finding the skin of his neck on a kiss. “Your palette is winter.” The redhead nibbled at his ear, then retreated. Ever since they'd started this ‘getting to know each other', Eris had become a lot more touchy in the last few days. And Azriel hadn't… denied him. Dangerously, he liked his proximity. “We’re taking this one.”

“Isn’t it too fancy?” Azriel inquired, missing the warmth of his body. Again, for whatever reason, he caught himself seeking contact when it came to Eris, and neither his body nor his shadows seemed to coil from the High Lord’s closeness. Strange.

Eris dropped into the armchair once more, leaning on his elbow. “I’m sure there will be lots of occasions for you to wear that, but you can also put on just the undershirt for daily stuff. We’ll be traveling for a long while, beautiful.”

“Don’t… call me that. It’s embarrassing,” Azriel scowled.

“Why? Isn’t it true? Haven’t you been praised for your looks before?”

“Yes, but it’s embarrassing when you say it while eating me with your eyes,” the shadowsinger darted.

Eris opened a lazy smile. “If you keep complaining, I’ll call you ‘cute little bat’ from now on. Next.” He waved a hand.

Azriel flipped him the middle finger before shutting the drapes again, and Eris laughed. It would be a long, long morning.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Hours later, they had stopped at a nearby restaurant to have lunch, and then, they strolled around the market, watching the buzzing of the streets. Azriel got tired of carrying weight around and winnowed to the apartment they were renting quickly to drop the bags with his ten new sets of clothes. When he returned, Eris was having an ice cream, waiting for him at a bench.

“Aren’t you tired yet?”

Eris tilted his head to the side. “Quite. But an idea crossed my mind just now.”

“Wonderful…” Azriel muttered, propping up by his side. “What is it this time?”

Eris crossed a leg over his knee, his free hand going for the shadowsinger’s ear, startling him.

“We’re in public, stop touching me like that,” he said under his breath, sneaking from him, but the High Lord kept brushing his earlobe, as if studying it.

He completely ignored Azriel’s discomfort as he uttered, “What about we pierce our ears?”

“What?!”

“I think you’d look good with earrings,” Eris went on, withdrawing his hand to hold his own chin. “I am a given, of course.”

“I don’t wear jewelry,” Azriel retorted, brushing his ear where Eris had touched him, feeling his skin somehow burn.

“Up until today, you didn’t wear colors, so why not add another asset to your looks, hm?” The High Lord pointed out. “Besides, the skin grows back if you don’t like it. It’s not as permanent as a tattoo.”

“What do I gain for obliging you?” Azriel asked, crossing his arms.

Eris smirked, fire blazing in his eyes. “Oh, so you’re learning how to play. I might regret this,” he said, his gaze moving from side to side, studying him. “What do you want?”

Azriel opened a wicked smile. “Let’s make a bargain. I’ll let you adorn me with whatever shining things you wish, but in return… I also get to alter something about you.”

“It can’t involve disfiguration of any sort. I have a public image to maintain,” the High Lord added, but Azriel noticed a tinge of… insecurity in his voice, and he could swear a shadow crossed the male’s eyes as he spoke.

“Don’t worry,” the shadowsinger replied. “I won’t touch your natural appeal,” he mocked.

Eris shook his head and stood up. “I have a bad feeling about this, but deal. Let’s see what you’re up to.”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Eris’s jaw had almost dropped three times as he watched Azriel trying on earrings, bracelets, and necklaces in the last hour. How come the male had been hiding such handsomeness all along under all that black? Even the shopkeepers seemed astonished, some of the winged females sighing at the sight of the tall, dark-haired Illyrian staring at himself in the mirror, taking a close look at the ears he’d just gotten pierced. Silver suited the tawny color of his skin, and with the blue shirt he'd kept on himself after leaving the store…

The High Lord didn’t want to admit he wished to take him home this moment and do very, very inappropriate things with the shadowsinger. He also didn’t want to take notice of the fact that he had kept closer to Azriel, narrowing his eyes at those who dared approach him, dared to look more than they should. He hated this feeling more than anything in the world; he hated to feel jealous. It had been one of the worst things he’d ever experienced, something that had drained and crushed him for years and years.

And yet, his traitorous body insisted on marking territory. He’d known Azriel for years, but they barely knew each other personally. He had proposed they explore this attraction between them, but should it move on that quickly? Why was he jealous of him after merely a month had passed since they’d started sharing a bed?

“What do you think?” The shadowsinger asked, pointing to the two silver dots adorning his earlobes and the tiny ones at the top of the inner shells.

Eris bit his lower lip. Fuck. He swallowed hard, but opened a soft smile to the male. “It suits you, as does all the rest.”

Azriel reached closer and pulled him to the corner, hiding Eris from view with his wings. The shadowsinger gave him a knowing look. “What is it that I smell, Eris?” He dragged his name, and the High Lord felt his spine throb at the sound of his voice.

But the redhead didn’t balk, tilting his head up. “Keep talking to me like that and you’ll find out.”

Azriel’s lips curled up. “I’ll wear them later for you if you like them this much,” he purred, and Eris fought against all his instincts not to kiss him.

He ran his thumb and index finger on the Illyrian’s throat. “Add that choker you wore just a moment ago.”

The shadowsinger’s gaze fell on his mouth, his lips parting slightly, but he quickly averted it, tucking in his wings and stepping back.

They paid for the jewelry and headed outside, walking side by side as the sun started setting on the horizon, brushes of periwinkle and orange tinting the sky.

“Now it’s your turn,” Azriel reminded the other end of the bargain, and Eris braced himself for what he would ask of him.

“What is my predicament, shadowsinger?”

“I want to see how you look with short hair.”

Frost spread on his stomach, and icy shards pierced Eris's heart. It hurt. It hurt…

[Song: It's becoming clear]

“Don’t cut it. I like it long,” his boyfriend said, trailing his fingers on his red strands. “Never cut it, Eris. You don’t want others to see that ugly mark, do you?”

Eris shook his head, his hand going behind his neck to touch the hideous scar on his skin.

“It’s a shame, darling,” the brown eyes stared at him, pity sparking in them. “You would be so beautiful weren’t your skin marred like this… But I love you. Just cover that mark, I can’t stand it. I can’t stand to know you were hurt like that. Don’t show anyone, Eris. Don’t let them see what was done to you. Only I can know. Let me share this burden with you.”

Eris looked at him, and gratitude was not enough to define what he felt. Eddar was a gift from the Cauldron. Who would want to love him after seeing that, after knowing everything about his past, his horrible family? He was so grateful to have someone who didn’t care about that and wanted him, even though he lacked so many things, even though his body bore marks of the violence inflicted on him.

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.” Azriel’s voice brought him back, and Eris gulped, not looking him in the eyes. “You look pale.”

“I’m fine,” he forced out. “I just… I have never cut it like that before.”

“Are you scared?” The shadowsinger teased, but Eris couldn’t reply, couldn’t find his words as that memory replayed in his mind, as the day he got… Azriel stopped walking, grabbing his wrist and making the redhead spin on his heels to look at him. “You are.”

Eris kept his eyes low, trying to shove down those thoughts, that fucking past that still came back to haunt him. For someone who had mastered his masks so well over centuries, why was it faltering today? Why did it still matter? Why did he let himself be affected by it?

A cold hand gripped his chin, and the High Lord met darkened hazel eyes. There was concern in Azriel’s gaze as he studied his face, and against his will, Eris felt like the male could see through him, through his not-so-strong self-esteem, yet recovering from years and years of being mined.

“Did I upset you?” He asked, and Eris shivered.

“No, that’s not it.”

“You said to talk if there was an issue. What are you thinking about?”

Eris sighed, and pulling Azriel by the wrist, he led them toward a bench in the nearby square, under a large willow tree. They stayed in silence for a while, watching the swings of the tree, the scent of food from the street reaching them every now and then.

That cold hand covered his on the stone of the bench, and Eris turned to look at the male by his side. “Tell me what’s wrong,” Azriel asked.

Azriel was a different version of the constant scowls from the last months, staring at him with such… gentleness in his eyes, in his touch. A knot formed in his throat, emotion bubbling under his skin. He didn’t understand why he was feeling so vulnerable now; it was just a memory. A bad one. He just had to forget it.

Eris swallowed hard, forcing his voice to work again. “Don’t tell anyone this.” The shadowsinger nodded. “I’m not… as confident about my appearance as I might look.” Azriel didn’t say anything, listening, his hand warming as Eris’s heat transferred to it. His words were shaky and stumbling as he said, “I have… a mark… on the back of my neck. From… from something my… my father did to me.”

Silence fell between them, the only sound the rustling of the leaves above them, blown by the cool breeze. Eris stiffened as Azriel’s hand went for his neck, brushing his hair back. He grabbed it to pull it away, fear and shame clawing his insides, but as he stared at Azriel… He saw the understanding in his eyes as the male lifted his scarred hand for him to see, to remember that he also bore permanent marks on him.

“Let me see it, Eris. Please,” he asked, his voice so soft that Eris felt like crying. He pressed his lips together, blinking the tears away. He couldn't believe he would do this, would break that old agreement he'd made with Eddar, and with himself, to never let anyone see. He couldn't believe himself as his body obeyed Azriel's request.

Slowly, his hand dropped on his thigh, and he shifted slightly, exposing his neck for the shadowsinger. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for any judgment, any pity in the Illyrian’s eyes. Fingers interlaced with his on his lap as Azriel’s other hand brushed his hair back.

Silence.

Eris wanted to hide. To not let Azriel see the branded iron mark right at the line where his strands started to grow, the shape of the Autumn Court’s insignia forever imprinted on his skin. Black. Rotten. Ugly. Disgusting.

For the world, the change to a maple leaf and a flame as the new crest of the Court was a statement of a new beginning. For Eris, it was a try at erasing the past, of sparing himself from looking at the antlers of the stag that had been his father’s symbol.

He felt those fingers stroking the lift in his skin, moving up to his nape until where the antlers reached, almost onto his scalp. Eris startled when Azriel’s lips pressed on that spot.

The shadowsinger retreated just enough to trail that hand on his cheek, bringing his face back to look at him. Eris quivered at the intensity of those eyes, at the feel of that hand caressing him. And going against his own request not to be touched in public, Azriel joined their lips together, his lids dropping as his mouth covered Eris’s. There was no tongue, no taunting desire, no demand in that kiss. There was only appreciation, the feeling of lips pressing together just because.

No one had ever kissed him like that. No kiss had ever been so tender. No kiss had ever felt like silent words being spoken. A single tear escaped Eris as he stared and stared at Azriel once he parted the kiss. Nothing could have prepared him for the gentle smile the shadowsinger opened, the first he’d ever seen on his face. Nothing could have prepared him for what Azriel said next, still holding his hand.

“If you ever feel like you’re not attractive, Eris, come find me. I’ll show you exactly how fucking hot I think you are. I’ll kiss every inch of your body, every little scar and mark, and still think you're dazzling. I'll do it until there’s only one certainty in your mind: that you are stunning. That you light up the places you go. And that you shine bright enough to bring those in the darkness out of their drowning seas.”

Another tear fell, and Eris couldn’t help but cup Azriel’s cheeks in his hands, taking in the lines of his face, the gleam in his gaze. In that moment, in Eris's eyes, Azriel was the most beautiful person he'd ever met. He couldn’t help but let a shy smile spread on his lips, watching the shadowsinger’s gaze studying him from up close. This side of him was something he would have never expected.

“Do you think I’ll look good with it?” He asked in a low voice, just to be sure.

“Weren’t you saying ‘I am a given’ when it comes to your beauty?” Azriel replied, imitating him, a brow raised in question. But he was still smiling at him, so beautifully that Eris could swear he felt a faint, timid kernel of light beam in his chest.

“Alright. Then I’ll let you choose my new style, Azriel. Just let me… get used to the idea,” he said, standing on his feet and bringing the shadowsinger up with him. “Tonight, I want to eat good food and listen to great music. And…” he drawled, a playful smile dancing on his lips. “Maybe have you as dessert.”

Azriel brought him closer, wrapping an arm around his waist, and said, “I like your priorities, High Lord. I promise to try not to skip to dessert first this time.”

Chapter Text

Weeks passed in the blink of an eye.

Azriel and Eris had visited many places in Nagara, as well as the smaller cities. They'd stayed longer in the Dawn Court because both males agreed on admiring the sky some more, one of the most remarkable things about Dawn, with its rosy pinks, pale golds, and lavender hues, even during the day. If only they could take back a painting…

The nights started late, as if the hours slowed down for the citizens to enjoy the end of the day for longer. And Thesan, its High Lord, had built the most stunning temples atop hills and mountains, from where appreciating nature’s beauty was a must, especially because of those stunning rose-gold-leaf trees that only grew in Dawn, scattered around the city.

That day, they’d planned on flying up to one of the highest temples, part of the High Lord’s private residence, where a party would be hosted all night long. Eris had received an invitation, and was set on going at all costs. The shadowsinger wouldn’t deny that he was curious to see how that would play out, since they were now “technically” seeing each other. Normally, he would only go to events like this to find some release, but now that he didn’t need to search for it — nor did he want to —, he wanted to see how it would be for him.

But before that…

He watched as Eris cooked lunch, pacing in the kitchen more than he normally did. Azriel observed him so often during the past weeks that now it was mostly natural to read him, so much so that he could almost predict what the High Lord would say sometimes, how his mouth would curl up or his brows arch. He had marked even the slightest changes on the male’s expressions.

He helped the redhead set the table, and later on, noticed Eris nibbling at his nails while they ate. He knew what he would ask before the words left his mouth.

“Do you really think it will look good?” Eris asked, and Azriel threw him a bored look, toying with his fork.

After days of bringing up the subject, the High Lord had finally agreed to embrace that change, but when the date of his appointment to get a haircut approached, the male had posed that question a few times. It wasn’t like Eris to let insecurity show on his face, nor was it like Azriel to push someone into doing things. The Illyrian wasn’t one to force people into something they might feel uncomfortable with.

However, it didn’t sit right with him to know Eris was ashamed of himself. And Azriel knew of a hairstyle that would suit him just perfectly, especially now with those thread earrings the redhead had started wearing often after they had pierced their ears together. If Eris looked handsome before, now it was hard for Azriel not to constantly get lost in watching him move around and about.

The shadowsinger himself wouldn’t deny that he, too, had liked to adorn his ears, if only because he enjoyed the feel of Eris's warm fingers trailing his earlobe and the shell of his ear each time he wore his silver studs or circular barbells.

“Do you really have to ask for the tenth time?” The shadowsinger retorted, rolling his eyes. “I told you already, just trust me.”

Eris didn’t seem so convinced, but he nodded.

“Again, let me ask. What are you afraid of?” The Illyrian inquired.

“It’s just… It will be exposed.”

“If it makes you feel uncomfortable, glamour yourself in public. Weren’t you doing so when you tied your hair up?”

“I did, but it still feels like I’m bare, even with the glamour,” Eris explained.

Azriel pondered, remembering the shape of the mark the High Lord had on his neck. He admitted that, when he’d seen it for the first time, he’d wanted to resurrect Beron just so he could kill him again. What kind of father imprinted the fucking Court’s crest on his son, with iron? And the way Eris had flinched and coiled from his touch, afraid of his reaction… It had made that long-buried need to protect open an eye inside him.

He wasn't used to seeing the redhead acting scared of things, and letting him know of this side of him. Eris was daring, taunting, confident, and exuded power and authority. But now Azriel knew that, just like him, the male had a horrible past that weighed on him, which he was still healing from. The difference between them was that, while Azriel's idea of processing his pain was through self-destruction, the High Lord had buried himself into his work, as he'd come to learn.

They'd talked plenty those days, more about superficial matters and Eris’s challenges with the Court. It had shocked Azriel to know how little Eris slept, how many hours he locked himself in his office, trying to raise the Autumn Court back from the crumbles Beron had torn it into.

He respected Eris for all he'd managed to do in such a short time, how much he cared about his people. However, he wondered if working himself to the bones wasn't also a self-destructive way of dealing with whatever horrors the male had endured under his father's rule. It made Azriel sick to his stomach to imagine what else Eris might have gone through, and although he was curious to know more about him, he didn't feel like they were close enough to ask something so personal, perhaps too painful to be voiced.

They had shared a bed every night since their agreement, and their bodies had reached a different level of intimacy. Azriel tried not to think too much about that, about the fact that he'd slept more hours ever since, that his so frequent nightmares still hadn’t shown up. But when it came to emotional intimacy…

He himself wasn't comfortable sharing much of his past with the redhead. He was afraid, but not of being judged. He was scared of trust, and more so, of letting people see how fragile and sensitive he was on the inside, only to decide he wasn't worth their time and love, shattering his already cracked soul. He feared being left behind, being forgotten. Again.

He could endure someone's bad opinion about him, having gone through harsh stares thrown at him so many times now that it didn't surprise him anymore. It was different when there was attachment, though.

That was why he'd created that self-imposed rule of standalone nights. Partially, because there had indeed been people expecting more than he could offer. And partially, because he wanted to avoid his own downfall. Love was too painful. Too cruel and soul-crushing. And allowing himself to love again might very well be the thing to kill him if that love wasn't reciprocated, or twisted against him. Azriel knew that, once he loved someone, he would go all for it. He didn't know how to love without being intense, without giving all of himself. And he had experienced enough cruelty in his life to guard himself, to cower from letting himself love.

Azriel envied those people who could break up and easily find ways to move on, those people capable of letting go of feelings once so strong and open themselves for new, brighter emotions to fill their souls. He wondered which one Eris was.

He'd decided to focus on enjoying what they had, because as Eris had said, there was no need to label things or rush them. They wanted to spend time around each other and, for now, that was what mattered. Even though he'd never had a true relationship. Even though he feared the moment they'd have to either move forward to the next step or part ways. He didn't like the second option one bit. Especially because he’d never had a friend like Eris, as he’d come to realize they’d become.

Days and days, and the shadowsinger hadn’t resorted to any of his bad habits, content in spending time with Eris, talking about trivial things, listening to music while eating good food, training, exploring places he’d never known, and indeed stopping to see the world from a different perspective. Alone, he might never have done this, gone on a trip. But with the Autumn High Lord by his side, all seemed exciting. Eris’s presence soothed that part of him that so long wished to be seen and acknowledged. Caring about how others reacted to him and his shadows had even been a forgotten problem on most days, because Azriel was too busy talking to the redhead, too focused on his soft smiles and sparking, flaming eyes.

His days had become… brighter. It scared him how much he'd come to care for the male in the past month, so much so that he felt like doing things for him, things to help him overcome that terrible past. Perhaps actions were better than words. An idea came to his mind, then. Azriel smiled, and Eris looked at him with a spark of curiosity.

“How about this,” he started, bringing the High Lord’s attention to him. “I’ll let you choose my outfit and do whatever you’ve been pestering me these last days with, and you let me add something to your new looks that might help you forget about the exposure. How does that sound?”

The redhead studied him, and the flickering flames in his eyes, that fire that made him look so lively, burned a little brighter.

Eris sighed, then nodded. “Let’s get this over with.”

*-*-*-*-*-*

Eris had his eyes closed the whole time while the male hairdresser moved around him, severing his waist-length locks. He didn’t dare look in the mirror once, nor to the floor to witness how it might look like a sea of orange grass at this point. He was glad to let Azriel explain how his strands were to be trimmed. He could feel the breeze kissing the lower part of his head, which felt pretty weird, and was half-afraid to behold the final result of the massacre to his vibrant red hair.

“Eris,” Azriel called, but he still didn’t open his lids. “The next part, I need you to trust me. It will hurt a bit until it’s done, but I promise you’ll like the result.”

“What are you planning?” He asked in suspicion.

“You’re getting a tattoo.”

His eyes shot open at once, but the shadowsinger quickly blocked his view from the mirror, covering his eyes with his hands.

“No peeking yet,” Azriel warned. He reached closer to Eris’s ear and murmured, “Do you trust me?”

Getting a tattoo was something he’d never been allowed to do, and would certainly go against his Court’s conservatism. More than that, it had been precisely because of his curiosity in marking his own skin that his father had decided to brand him forever.

If you’re so desperate to taint your body, boy, then I’ll give you what you want, his father had growled, and laughed at his screams as that iron melted his skin countless times at the same spot. The skin grew rot and black above it, and that symbol… It had been a reminder of his shackles, of the fact that he would never be free from his father’s control.

But he was no longer chained.

Eris breathed in and out, considering. It had never occurred to him to get a tattoo right where he was most vulnerable. And strangely, Eris did trust Azriel. More than he trusted most of the people who were ever close to him.

He nodded slightly and felt soft lips pressing against his before the Illyrian retreated. Azriel pulled him up from the chair he’d been sitting in and guided him to what seemed to be a stretcher, helping him lie on his chest after removing his upper clothing.

It took the male two hours to discuss with Azriel the drawing pattern and work on his skin to give life to the tattoo. It had hurt, but not as much as he’d thought. Although Eris was still concerned about the result, this, too, was a rebellious act.

When it was over, Azriel brought him back upright, guiding him on the way back to the mirror. And when the shadowsinger removed his fingers from his face…

Eris’s eyes bulged as he beheld his reflection. His hair, once cascading as a silky curtain on his back, was now cut almost to his nape at its base, gradually thickening until the middle. The upper part was longer, reaching his chin, and falling over his eyes. It stunned him when Azriel shoved a hand through his locks and threw them back from his face, making a beautiful wave of red strands contour his features. He looked so… young…

“This way you can part your hair in the middle as you used to, but also toss it to the left or right, like this,” Azriel explained, demonstrating. That haircut caused a natural undulation to his locks, and that length could be braided or tied back in different ways. He loved it.

Eris couldn’t believe he was staring at himself. His hand went up to touch, feeling his head lighter, and his amber eyes seemed more lively. But it was the little bird drawn on the curve of his neck that caught his attention.

Azriel noticed it. He asked the hairdresser to bring a smaller mirror so that he could hold it behind for Eris to see the result of the tattoo on his bare back.

The Autumn High Lord felt his legs weak as he followed the design of roots, thorns, and leaves sprouting down his neck to his spine, reaching the middle of his back. And where the burning mark had once been, now lay a beautiful maple tree, its branches stretching around his neck, almost on his scalp, as if embracing it. From the tip of the branches, birds flew, coming and going from the tree’s welcoming nest. The deep roots of his life, every year he'd spent surrounded by thorns, had bloomed, now welcoming others to come and go from its cozy nook.

Once again, Eris felt like crying in Azriel’s presence. Such sensibility... His eyes locked with the male behind him, who gave him a knowing look, as if he was very aware of how much he’d liked it, how much that drawing meant, how much of it told his own story.

And just like he’d done a few weeks ago, Azriel set the mirror on the chair and circled Eris’s waist from behind. He kissed the little birds on his neck, one by one, resting his chin on his shoulder as he looked at him. Eris’s breath got stuck in his throat, and his heart… his heart was pounding like crazy in his chest, as it had a long, long time ago. When he was a different person. When he was naive and needy of love. They didn’t say anything for a while, watching each other, and Azriel could probably hear it.

“Where were you hiding all this time, Azriel…” He muttered, his hands resting on the shadowsinger’s arms. And without giving it much thought, as if it were already a truth set in his heart, Eris said, “I might start liking you if you keep doing stuff like this.”

Eris knew exactly what he didn’t want in a relationship, having had too many bad experiences with one person to be very, very careful in selecting a new partner. As for the things he wanted, he didn't know what was healthy, what things were supposed to be like. Up until now, he’d never considered it. But ever since he'd gotten to know Azriel… Well, this was how he wanted to be treated. Eris almost scoffed at himself. Barely two months had passed, and here he was, going against all his safety standards because of someone he knew so little of, but who could see him, could understand.

However, it didn’t feel like they didn’t know each other, much less that they were strangers. It felt… safe. And good, to be around him, to see him every day like this. Eris could see them together, though still uncertain about the future. He had time to figure that out, and he leashed that part of him that yearned to plan, plan, and plan far ahead. He needed to go slower if he wanted to have a long-lasting thing.

Eris knew himself. Once he set eyes on someone and started falling in love, his world would start revolving around that person. With Eddar, he’d forgotten about his own needs to please the male, had stopped doing things he liked on his own, and had stopped looking out for himself. He needed to be careful not to repeat the same mistakes.

Azriel was completely different from his ex, for what these almost two months had shown him. The shadowsinger had done things for him that Eddar hadn’t been capable of offering in years and years together. And Eris wanted to preserve that preciousness, that jewel in the form of a male he was, even though he was a coward for not telling him that he was both interested and scared of opening his heart for love again. For, maybe, letting him in.

It didn’t go unnoticed that his sentence had caught the shadowsinger off guard, his arms loosening around him as uncertainty shone in his eyes. There was fear in Azriel’s gaze as he retreated a bit, and Eris remembered their conversation from a while ago.

You’ll get bored with me soon enough.

He considered what might have happened to make him think like that, how he might have been treated to have such low self-esteem when it came to being with someone. Eris knew from experience. Once that person grew bored and moved on, while still keeping him around, still giving him hope to get back together, like a dusty old toy forgotten on a shelf, waiting to be picked… the fall when it was truly over was too great to recover from. He still didn't know how he'd come back from Eddar’s damage to his heart. He wondered what Azriel’s past relationships, if he’d ever had someone, had been like.

Eris turned around, wrapping his arms around the shadowsinger’s shoulders, ignoring the attendant who might still be around. Azriel’s eyes focused on him, and the High Lord pressed their foreheads together, giving him a bright smile.

“Thank you.” Eris closed his eyes, still grinning. “For seeing me. I see you, too.”

Strong arms surrounded his waist, and Eris opened his lids to stare into that beautiful shade of green and brown that were Azriel’s eyes, a tone that reminded him of fresh forest soil after rain.

To his surprise, Azriel smiled back at him and said, “Just as I had imagined.” He kissed his lips briefly, his scent of forest cedar tangling in Eris’s nose. “Stunning as fuck.” All hairs on Eris’s body rose at once as the shadowsinger whispered in his ear, “I’m taking you from behind tonight, High Lord.”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

At seven that night, they were ready to leave their apartment, but were both staring at each other. Gawking, to be more precise. Eris was the first to come closer, taking in that midnight-blue and silver outfit of trousers, shirt, and vest they’d bought together a while ago. Azriel wouldn’t deny that he liked being stared at that way, and knew what the roaring fire in Eris’s eyes promised for later.

“I’m half-tempted to forget about this party and make our own private one here,” the High Lord drawled, running his hands on Azriel’s torso, his gaze fixing on his earrings, on his swept-back hair. “It never ceases to amaze me how more handsome you can get, Mother have mercy on me.”

Azriel smirked, although his heart had started pounding faster. His stomach also felt kind of weird, as if raging birds were flying everywhere, trying to get free from a cage. He circled the male’s shoulders, his hand trailing the tattoo Eris had just gotten, his short hair. Fuck. The final result had been… it had sent sparks and sparks through the shadowsinger’s heart to witness how damned hotter Eris was now, and his mind had wandered to a variety of ideas when it came to giving him pleasure that night. But later, he told himself.

Azriel took in the black trousers, orange shirt, and the long, white vest reaching the High Lord’s knees, threaded with gold and amber. Eris exuded elegance and presence, the colors bringing out the male's vibrancy, but with that new haircut… all the Illyrian could think about was how many people would be staring at him with greedy eyes that night. He allowed himself to pull Eris in for a kiss, cupping his face with both hands. It never ceased to amaze him how their lips brushing and their tongues lacing always felt perfect, as if they’d been made to fit together. There hadn’t passed a day they hadn’t kissed, because Azriel couldn’t stay away from him, couldn’t help but long for the redhead’s warmth.

Eris wrapped his arms around his waist, traveling under Azriel’s blue vest along his back. The shadowsinger liked it when the male held him like this. As if he were precious. As if he wanted to keep him close for as long as he could. He liked to be in Eris’s arms, which was strange, considering it was always he who held others like this during… well, sexual experiences, since his failed-attempted relationships didn't count.

He was too tall, too masculine not to be on the domineering side of things, and yet here he was, gladly allowing Eris to take on that role. Because Eris saw that he wasn’t just brute force. He saw that sensitive side of his soul. And for that, the shadowsinger had let himself experience things he’d never done before with the High Lord.

No one had ever touched his wings, let alone kissed every inch of them so tenderly. And no one had ever been so attentive to what he liked, to the things that gave him pleasure. Eris had the ability to awaken his whole body with a mere look, to make him want to kneel before him and submit, but also to become a roaring beast, drunk in lust. And going out tonight… well, he hoped they could manage a few hours at the party before coming back home to get lost in each other’s bodies.

When they parted the kiss, Azriel brushed a strand away from Eris’s face. “You look mouth-watering,” he said, trailing the golden earrings on the male’s ears. Eris chuckled, biting his chin in provocation.

“Keep looking at me like that, and we won’t be leaving this house, beautiful.” The High Lord’s brow lifted ever so slightly.

“Keep calling me that, and you won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” Azriel replied, capturing his lower lip between his teeth.

Eris’s hand lowered to his ass, grabbing his butt and pulling him closer, earning a groan from the shadowsinger. “You’re not leaving my sight tonight.” The redhead released him, then extended a hand in an elegant gesture, placing the other over his heart. “Would you give me the honor of your company tonight, Azriel?”

Azriel’s breath got stuck in his throat, but he did his best to hide his embarrassment. From the look in Eris’s eyes, the male wasn’t playing around, from the softness of his expression, the smile on his face. Was he courting him? The Illyrian shoved that down, and as he placed his hand atop Eris’s, his fingers curled around it, and he pulled the High Lord’s arm around his own.

“I’ll be escorting you tonight, Eris.”

And he winnowed them to the temple’s entrance on top of the hill.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The party was a cacophony of people, Peregryns and High Fae alike, drinking and dancing and chatting, scattered along the vast salon. As Azriel and Eris entered together, arm in arm, they could see their reflection on the white tile floor. As they walked toward the Dawn High Lord’s gathering group, eyes followed after them, taking in the astonishing pair they made.

Azriel had never, ever, gone anywhere in public with someone in such a way. He had never let others have the slightest idea that he might be with someone. But as he strolled by the High Lord’s side, as he glanced at his confident, imposing smile, full of pride, not a bit ashamed for being seen with him… The shadowsinger felt a faint, shy light beam in his heart as he allowed a soft curl to fill his lips, placing his hand atop Eris’s on his arm.

The hours passed, and the males enjoyed the food, even engaging in conversation with new people around them. Eris was a natural at making new acquaintances, it seemed, and when he was with him, Azriel even felt fine with interacting, knowing that if things got weird, Eris always had a taunting comment to soothe the vibe.

He was about to close a deal with a brown-skinned Peregryn named Daxten, a sailor and merchant of Dawn, when Azriel whispered to him, “No working during vacation, remember?”

“But this is too good not to close the deal,” the High Lord retorted. He willed his attention back to Daxten and said, “I’ll stop by tomorrow or the day after so we can have a proper talk. How does that sound?”

The male grinned, chestnut wings rustling behind him, bowing slightly as his golden eyes sparked with excitement. “You’re the boss. Drop by whenever you’re able to.”

After that, they parted ways with the male, reclining on the pillars in a farther corner of the salon. Eris’s eyes studied the crowd, and his crooked, upturned brow suggested he was intrigued by something.

“I can see the engines spinning in your head, Fire Lord,” the shadowsinger teased, poking Eris’s forehead.

The High Lord whipped his hand away as if shooing a mosquito. “Something crossed my mind, although I’m not sure you’d be up to it.”

“Try me,” Azriel replied, taking a sip from his wine.

“I was thinking that I’ve never tried a threesome.”

The Illyrian’s eyes widened a bit, and he almost choked on the drink.

Eris glanced at him. “Have you done it?”

Azriel averted his eyes. “I have.”

“Was it good? Did you try with males or females?”

The shadowsinger looked back at him, marking the curiosity in his eyes. “It was interesting. I tried with a male and a female. But why the sudden interest?” He asked, and didn’t get the ache in his chest. Was Eris already bored with him? Why was he thinking of it?

“It just occurred to me how interesting it might be to have two males worshipping you,” Eris answered, pulling Azriel closer to whisper in his ear. “Since the Peregryns also have wings, I wondered, Azriel, how much more I can make you moan once those feathers brush your bat wings.”

Azriel quivered, imagining precisely what he’d said.

Eris retreated to look at him again. “What do you say? Want to try that with me for a night?” He inquired. “I’d never considered it before, but if it’s with you, then it’s a kind of pleasure I’d be willing to try once.”

Azriel pondered, calming down after hearing him out. It was not for a lack of interest in him. Eris was just curious, and perhaps… Perhaps they would both feel good. When he’d done it that one time, the shadowsinger didn’t know any of those people; he was just interested in finding release. However, with this male before him, Azriel wanted to give him pleasure, especially because of his revealing that he only wanted to try because it was with him. That said enough, and Azriel wanted Eris to feel what it was like once. It didn’t mean he was leaving him. It was just that, an experience.

Then, the shadowsinger looked around, scanning the crowd, and asked the High Lord, “Who has caught your eye?”

Eris’s eyes flickered, and he circled Azriel’s arm with his, also roaming his gaze in the sea of wings of every size and shades of brown and beige. He discreetly pointed to a tall Peregryn leaning against a wall, white-haired, pale-skinned, pristine wings, and a warrior’s body.

“That one.”

Chapter Text

The guest rooms in Thesan’s palace were as intricate as the rest of it. As Azriel and Eris were guided inside by the Peregryn they'd invited for the night, Jaylen, he seemed pretty familiar with the place, used to the salmon-toned walls, the expensive furniture, and the very large bed in the center.

Once the door closed, Azriel was the first to sit on the silky yellow sheets, his hands folding around Eris’s waist and bringing the High Lord to him for a kiss. Feeling his mouth after the whole night yearning to take him was wonderful, and the shadowsinger allowed himself to run his fingers on the redhead’s short hair, on the large tattoo on his neck.

Eris had wanted to experience this with him, and Azriel wished to make him feel it to its fullest. He was convinced that anything he tried with Eris would be wonderful. Their mouths parted, and Eris stared into his eyes, as needy as he was. Azriel made Eris stand, watching as Jaylen came behind the High Lord and took his lips, demanding and hot. Azriel wouldn't deny that watching from outside how Eris's tongue rolled and his lips moved while kissing made him imagine all sorts of things. Seeing them share such a wet kiss was compelling, but Azriel wanted to hear Eris’s sounds of pleasure. Without tearing his eyes from the two males kissing, the shadowsinger unfastened the redhead’s tailored trousers, dragging them down slowly, sliding his hands on Eris’s thighs.

The High Lord groaned against Jaylen’s mouth as Azriel trailed his fingers on his creamy skin, reaching that spot under the balls to stroke unhurried, teasing. He bent before Eris, his lips wrapping around Eris’s cock, and the redhead drew in a sharp breath, a throaty noise breaking from him as he pulled away to stare at Azriel taking his length into his mouth. Their eyes locked for a moment before Eris closed them, falling against Jaylen’s chest, letting the Peregryn undress the upper part of his clothes.

Naked between the two males, Eris gave in to pleasure. His legs trembled slightly when Jaylen bent behind him, parting his butt cheeks and joining Azriel in the tongue play, flicking on the High Lord’s entrance. Azriel’s own hardness throbbed at each sound that came out of Eris’s mouth, completely pleased to witness Eris’s loss of control, his responsiveness to their touches. The redhead gripped his dark hair and rolled his hips against Azriel’s mouth, slowly riding his pleasure as Azriel had learned he liked, soft and provocative.

Azriel dragged his tongue into the slit, tasting salt and the heavenly High Lord’s spice-sweet scent, which had become his addiction. Azriel liked to wake up surrounded by Eris's rich fragrance, as lucious as a Negroni drink. It intoxicated him to have his own body smelling like Eris. Jaylen had slid fingers into Eris, stretching him for what would come next. Azriel drew back, dragging his body on the bed and gesturing for Eris to come to him. Eris went. The Autumn High Lord fit between Azriel’s thighs and kissed him on the mouth, undressing the shadowsinger while Jaylen, getting rid of his own clothes, slicked his cock with oil behind Eris, rubbing it teasingly on his cleft.

At the first slow push in, Eris moaned, grabbing Azriel’s bare chest, and the shadowsinger held his biceps, his mouth half-opened as he watched the winged male taking Eris in that position, driving into the High Lord with his head thrown back. Pristine feathers rustled as Jaylen fucked Eris, contrasting with Azriel's dark wings and tanned skin. Eris’s groans came out louder as he stared at Azriel, as if having him watch piqued his arousal. Azriel’s breaths became more shallow as he slid his fingers on Eris’s chin, bringing it down, making Eris open his mouth and take Azriel’s cock.

Azriel grunted in pleasure, that hot mouth on his most sensitive part sucking him hard was too much. The warmth of Eris's tongue slithering on him was appalling, and all Azriel could do was concede to that burning sensation. He fisted Eris’s hair, guiding the High Lord while his other hand trailed the tattoo on his neck. Eris’s muffled moans while Azriel and Jaylen took pleasure in his body signaled that the male was close to his climax, but Azriel had a different idea. He launched forward, pulling Eris back.

“Sit there, Jaylen,” Azriel instructed, pointing to the headboard. The white-haired male obliged him, waiting. Azriel turned to Eris and kissed his mouth as he pushed him against the Peregryn. Their bodies rubbed, Eris between their warmth getting more and more aroused as the two winged males felt his body with hands and mouths.

“I want to watch you like this, Eris, as you cum in my mouth,” Azriel declared, guiding the High Lord to spread his thighs and crouch above Jaylen to descend on his cock.

Eris gasped as Jaylen held his waist and guided his dick back in in a single thrust, and the redhead supported his hands on the male’s chest as he started plunging up into his body. Azriel didn’t avert his eyes for one moment, entranced by Jaylen's length disappearing into Eris. The hairs on his body prickled when, crawling closer, Azriel took Eris’s cock into his mouth once more.

Eris quivered, unable to keep his voice low, keen moans escaped unstoppably now that two of his sensitive places were given attention. Azriel drew a hand on the High Lord’s balls, circling them as he sucked him very, very slowly, and to his delight, Eris erupted in his mouth not long after, hot splurts shooting on his tongue. Azriel swallowed it all, licking Eris’s length as he let go of his cock.

The High Lord's eyes blazed with desire, and as he recovered, he said between hitched breaths, “Jaylen, wet Azriel’s cock for me.”

The Peregryn seemed more than happy to follow his lead, and they shifted positions. Eris made Azriel lie on his back, coming atop him as Jaylen slid an oiled hand on the shadowsinger’s dick. Azriel groaned as Eris started rolling his ass against his length, more so when Jaylen guided Azriel’s cock into Eris.

Being inside him was unearthly good, Cauldron boiled him. The shadowsinger hissed as he traveled his hands on Eris’s thighs and waist, eyes glued to the High Lord’s gorgeous, lean body riding him. Eris bent down to take him in a scorching kiss, and as Azriel fucked him, he felt a finger breach his entrance. Azriel cried out, feeling the sensations take his body as Eris’s heated hands trailed his chest, his neck, watching him from very close.

The way Eris looked at him suggested enough. This had, somehow, become a game between the two of them to see who would guide the Peregryn into giving more pleasure to the other.

As enough fingers slid into Azriel, Jaylen entered his body and waited, grunting as Azriel clenched around him. The Peregryn grasped Eris’s waist and brought him back for a kiss. Azriel’s blood heated as he watched them, as he got used to the double sensation of having a cock in his ass and his own cock squeezed inside Eris.

This was completely different than the time he’d tried a threesome. It felt impossibly good, it was so much pleasure at once that Azriel felt like he might cum too soon, if only because of the view in front of him. Eris had a hand on the back of Jaylen’s head as they devoured each other’s mouths, all while the High Lord swayed his hips on Azriel’s cock, making his mind become foggy.

Jaylen started thrusting into Azriel, and the shadowsinger trembled, not quite able to focus on both places where he was given pleasure. It was good, so good he wanted to see how it would feel with Eris under him, dominating Eris’s body as he came.

“Come here,” he snarled, flipping Eris on the bed and sliding his cock back into him in a rough plunge, liking it too much as the High Lord cried out.

He pinned Eris’s hands above his head as he dove into his body, loving to hear the thwack of their hips colliding.

“Fuck,” Azriel moaned loudly when Jaylen filled him again, taking Azriel from behind and moving along with their rhythm.

Eris’s eyes were trained on Azriel as he watched Jaylen fucking him. “Jaylen,” he called, “bring Azriel up against you.” The Peregryn obeyed, traveling his hands on Azriel’s muscles, coming up to pinch his peaked nipples, one in each hand. Azriel threw his head back against the male’s shoulder, grunting with the taunting. “Now, beautiful, tease his wings with your feathers. Make him go mad as he cum into me.”

That hadn't been necessary. Those mere words were his undoing, and as soon as they left Eris's mouth, hot spill filled Eris's ass. Azriel had come hard only by hearing that, panting at their three bodies joined together. Through his lowered lids, Azriel saw Eris’s naughty grin.

“See? He’s very sensitive,” Eris went on. “I bet we can make him come again.”

Eris and Jaylen exchanged a look, and without giving Azriel time to recover from his orgasm, the Peregryn drew back, bringing Azriel with him and out of Eris’s body. Eris passed his legs under the shadowsinger, and Jaylen fit Eris’s cock into Azriel.

His loud moan was shameful as Eris slammed up, gripping his waist, in a frenetic rhythm Azriel had only seen him be able to do while fucking. He didn't know how, but by having that spot in him being hit repeatedly, he got hard once more. Eris knew his weaknesses, had studied his body well enough to know where to touch. Eris enveloped a heated hand around Azriel’s cock, taking the shaft and sliding along it. Azriel gasped as the High Lord covered his cock with fire and grabbed his thighs, the flames teasing his pleasure alone now. It should be frightening to have his cock on fire like that, but nothing could stop the throb on Azriel's spine at the view. It mesmerized him, the level of trust he'd reached with Eris to find such a thing tantalizing, not scary.

“Mmgh,” Jaylen drove into Eris, and the redhead cried out, slowing his thrusts to feel the same as Azriel had just moments ago. The Peregryn’s hands traveled on Azriel again, and this time, his feathered white wings brushed Azriel’s membranous ones, making the shadowsinger whimper. Azriel’s body was shaky as Eris fucked him, the non-burning fire on his cock and the tickle in various spots of his wings driving him into madness.

Both males held him in place as Azriel couldn’t take it anymore. He spilled himself on Eris’s abdomen, his whined cries loud as he had one of the most intense climaxes of his life. His body went limp and weak, his sight darkened, and his mind was utterly blank. All he could do was watch Eris throwing his head back while Jaylen kept moving against him.

The Peregryn’s grasp on Azriel’s waist tightened, and Jaylen bit the shadowsinger’s neck, letting out a loud moan as he emptied inside Eris. The High Lord thrust up into Azriel, climax soon to take hold of him, and the shadowsinger bent down to watch Eris come from up close. Azriel cupped Eris’s neck, making him stare into his eyes, his thumbs stroking the redhead’s sensitive ears.

Azriel rolled his hips on Eris’s cock, drinking in his moans, and as the first shot came into him, Azriel claimed Eris’s mouth, devouring him in a kiss as if to consume his sounds of pleasure, muffled against his lips as Eris spurted into Azriel. Mother above...

As they calmed down, steadying their breaths, Azriel’s thumbs trailed Eris’s cheeks, and Eris’s fingers brushed Azriel’s wrists. Their eyes locked, and Azriel got lost in the flickering flames in Eris’s amber gaze, as beautiful as precious gems glinting in the light. Heat filled his chest, as if something was awakening inside him, something ancient and raw. He wanted to sink into that sensation. They could only see each other in that moment, almost forgetting they weren’t alone, too entranced by whatever this was between them.

Azriel pressed a kiss to Eris’s lips before retreating. He turned to Jaylen, who watched them as he caught his breath.

“How was it for a first, Eris?” Azriel asked, and the High Lord looked at Jaylen with a smirk.

“Completely above my expectations,” the redhead answered, and the Peregryn chuckled.

“You two make an exquisite pair to share a bed with,” he let out.

“I’d love to stay more, but,” Azriel continued, scooping Eris in his arms. “I promised him something as we got home tonight, so I hope you don’t mind if I swipe him away, Jaylen.” Azriel was looking at Eris, whose eyes were slightly widened as if surprised. “Bring the clothes, Eris.”

The High Lord circled Azriel’s shoulders after making their scattered clothes disappear, and looked at Jaylen with a lazy grin. “Well, I’d be mad to deny being carried by such a strong male, wouldn’t I? Thank you for the night. Excuse us, honey,” Eris drawled, and with a wink, they winnowed back to their apartment.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

[Song: Glacial Valley]

As they landed, Azriel carried Eris to the bedroom, and the High Lord lit up the mantel. The shadowsinger pressed him against the mattress, coming above him, taking his body in, still bare as the day he was born.

“What?” Eris inquired, heat coiling inside him at the intent look piercing him.

He’d noticed the shift between them at the end of sex, how Azriel seemed to be… different, somehow, and he, too, felt like something had communicated between them a moment ago. The shadowsinger still studied him silently, one of his hands trailing his face gently, his eyes following the line his thumb drew on Eris’s skin.

“What?” Eris asked again, his breath becoming ragged, his pulse racing.

He felt… weird. And he wasn’t ready to confront what that emotion clutching at his chest might be. His cheeks heated against his will as Azriel’s piercing eyes traveled over him, unable to refrain from the sudden shyness. Eris wasn’t shy, but here, under Azriel’s body, being stared at with such need… No one had ever looked at him like that, wanted him that much.

“You are beautiful,” Azriel finally answered.

Every time Azriel praised him, for anything, Eris had the strange urge to wrap himself around the male, to physically sense the impact of those words. They landed true to his soul. Azriel wasn't one to lie, had no time to waste on meaningless pleasantries. However, the shadowsinger hadn't shied from complimenting him ever since they stated they would be honest with each other, especially after such a great change in his looks.

Eris felt something poking against his thigh, realizing Azriel was hard again.

He gasped, “You’re roused again?”

Azriel smirked, bringing his mouth to Eris’s ear and brushing kisses on his skin. “I only need to smell your scent to get roused, Pumpkin.”

Eris flushed, a loud sigh leaving his lips as the shadowsinger pressed against him, chest to chest, shoving a hand through Eris's hair.

“…Pumpkin?” Eris asked, more to make sure he’d heard it right. Azriel was giving him an… intimate nickname?

“Suits you,” Azriel said, his hot tongue going down on Eris’s neck, and the High Lord grunted in pleasure, his skin still sensitive. “Red hair, red eyes, fire Lord, you know,” the shadowsinger went on, his kisses traveling to Eris’s collar bones while his hand went for his crotch, teasing his awakening cock.

“Hm…” Eris groaned in answer, running his hands on Azriel’s back. “So we are giving cute nicknames to each other now?”

“Why not?” Azriel answered, and it stunned Eris.

He brought the shadowsinger’s face back up to look at him. “Want us to get closer, hm?”

Without tearing their gazes apart, Azriel took the glass vial in his hand and slicked his cock. When he slid inside, Eris moaned, locking his ankles behind Azriel’s back, marveling at how fucking good it felt to have sex with him every time.

“Closer than this?” Azriel teased, one of his hands lacing around Eris’s waist while the other went for his red hair.

“You know what I mean,” Eris grunted, biting his lower lip as Azriel thrust into his body, filling him slowly, unhurried.

“Go on, Pumpkin,” Azriel ignored him, smirking, “Pick my nickname.”

Eris understood he wasn’t going to admit it aloud yet, but Azriel’s eyes said enough. He saw the ‘yes’ to his question. He felt that yes in the way Azriel held him tenderly in his arms, as no one else had ever done. Not even Eddar, even though Eris had once thought his ex’s caresses to be affectionate ones. It turned out to be possessive ones, made to mark his skin as his property.

Azriel, on the other hand, held him as if he were precious. He held him as though he couldn't have enough closeness, as though he wished to merge their skins together. Azriel kept staring at him, hazel eyes darkened as he waited for his reply.

Eris was well aware of where exactly the shadowsinger was touching him, and what it meant. His heart pounded faster as Azriel drew the lines of his newly acquired tattoo, where his tainted mark still was. Azriel had given it a new meaning, made it into something stunning, and now touched him where Eddar, who supposedly had loved Eris, had never laid hands on.

Eris closed his eyes for a second, allowing a soft curl of lips to take his mouth. Yes, foolish, soft heart, he had. He opened his lids and, smiling, cupped Azriel’s face between his hands.

“As you wish, Cupcake,” he drawled, and Azriel stopped his slow moves, a brow lifting in question. Eris chuckled, pinching the shadowsinger’s cheek. “Sweet and soft,” he pointed out, “Soft to bite, and the sweetness inside them makes you happy. Just like you.”

To his delight, Azriel’s eyes widened a bit, his cheeks flushing. “I… I don’t make people happy— Ow!”

Eris had slapped him across the face, not hard enough to hurt, but it would still sting. Eris almost laughed at the situation, at Azriel’s dumbfounded face while their bodies were still so intimately linked, the coitus interrupted by sudden conversation and taunting.

“I’ll slap you every time you say bullshit,” Eris reminded him, bringing the shadowsinger closer by the neck. “Do you really think you don’t make me happy? After all you did for me?” Eris asked.

Azriel averted his eyes. “I was just being helpful, and you looked sad. Any decent person would’ve done that.”

Eris couldn’t find him more adorable, could he? He really didn’t give himself credit.

“It might be what you think, but you’re wrong. Even decent people don’t go as far as offering words of comfort, Azriel. What you did, this,” Eris touched Azriel’s hand over his neck. “This made me feel powerful. This means more than I can begin to tell you. So believe me when I say there’s nothing of ‘anyone would do it’ about you. And I appreciate the things you do for me.”

Azriel stared at him with an emotion Eris couldn’t read. The shadowsinger hid his face in the curve of Eris’s neck and slowly started moving in him again, circling the High Lord’s waist with both arms. Eris moaned, holding him close, their bodies pressing tightly together

“Eris…” Azriel murmured against his neck, huffing against it, and Eris trembled at the sound of his voice, tilting his head to the side and giving in to the slow, wet kisses Azriel pressed on his skin. “Eris,” he called his name again, and the High Lord couldn’t understand why his chest was filling with light, couldn’t make sense of that thing expanding in him, that brightness in his soul. Was this his will to live, the beauty in him that Azriel awakened?

Azriel retreated a bit to look at his eyes while thrusting languidly into him. Eris felt every inch of the shadowsinger’s length going in and out. Azriel removed his cock almost to the tip and slid the head back inside, going half the way in, then taking his cock completely out.

“Umgh!” Eris whined, throwing his head back. Azriel did it again, teasing his entrance as he dragged his cock out, and Eris’s body started shaking with the sudden, different pleasure he felt. “I-I feel… Mmn… I feel weird…”

Azriel studied him, repeating the long, slow plunges fully in and out of his body, and Eris grabbed the pillow under his head, his eyes teary at the sensation as his legs spread wider for Azriel, giving in to pleasure.

“You like it when I pull it out,” the shadowsinger remarked, as if taking note of a new discovery. Eris watched him from under lowered lids, his mouth parted as moans came out. He had no control over his trembling, over his ass moving by itself against Azriel’s cock, desperate for it. “Fuck, Eris, you really want to kill me,” Azriel growled.

Azriel took one of Eris’s nipples into his mouth, suckling at it, keeping the constant rhythm, slow, cadent, losing himself in their lovemaking. Because that was what it had become for Eris. This was completely different from those first times, in which they had raw desire to burn. It was different even from the intense pleasure of the hours before. Now, as feelings were slowly weaving their way into his heart… Eris couldn’t help but surrender to this male.

He wanted Azriel for himself, wanted to keep him, to help him see those beautiful things he saw in his soul. He wanted to know everything about him, who he had been, who he was now, who he wished to become. His dreams, his fears. His favorites, his quirks. What made him smile, what made him sad.

And as the realization that he was falling in love with Azriel settled in, Eris’s breaths became more shallow, his pleasure built inside him, and then, as strong as his newly found feelings, Eris came in Azriel’s arms, his hot spill marking Azriel’s abdomen. Azriel didn’t tear his eyes from him, and burying his face in Eris’s neck again, Azriel moaned and spurted inside him. The shadowsinger’s sounds of pleasure as his cum filled Eris sent throb after throb down Eris’s spine.

Eris tried to catch his breath, unable to process that new emotion, unable to decide what to do with it. Should he tell Azriel now? It was so soon… too soon to let himself get so involved, he’d developed feelings after barely a few months had passed… After everything he’d been through, would he be able to entrust Azriel with his heart? Would Azriel want it?

Eris decided to wait. He needed to get to know Azriel better. He knew nothing about the shadowsinger’s past relationships, how he treated his ex-partners in a serious commitment. Eris needed to know the territory he was entering, for he knew well that charming, affectionate people could become colder once the relationship status evolved. He needed to be smarter this time.

Azriel wasn’t Eddar. Azriel, so far, had been nothing more than exactly what he wanted in a partner. However, there were still lots of things to talk about, especially because Eris was a High Lord. He wouldn’t enter a relationship that was fated to fail, or something only he invested his time and effort, not again. He needed to know what Azriel wanted regarding his future. Eris was someone who needed plans to feel safe, and to make them, he needed information.

It was too soon to admit what he felt now because Eris still didn’t know a lot of essential things about Azriel. And this time, since he’d found such a precious person, he didn’t want to ruin it by simply letting his soft heart rush blindly into feeling comforting things. It was nice, for once, to be so appreciated and cared for, but Eris had learned the hard way how trusting people hurt, and how dangerous it was to linger only on the good things.

The wrong person would offer crumbs of affection and make you feel grateful for receiving so little. The wrong person would twist your words against you, would spin your truths into lies so convincing that you’d question your sanity. Having been in that sort of role for years, Eris was terrified of falling back into his old patterns, of falling victim to that sort of mind control again. He might not be able to rise from the ashes this time, even with all the strategies he’d developed for his self-preservation.

He knew how offering someone his heart on a tray had terrible consequences, and how hard it was to heal from a mental breakdown.

So as they went to sleep almost at dawn, tangled in each other’s arms, Eris allowed himself a little more time to consider. Because all his healing journey wasn’t worth tossing in the trash for weeks of knowing someone. All his struggles weren’t worth being forgotten in the face of a new, prospective love.

But Eris promised himself that, if Azriel was the right person, if he showed Eris that it was worth it giving him his heart… Then Eris would love him as he’d never been able to love a person. He owed it to himself. He would shower Azriel with all the love he had to give. And there wouldn’t come a day in which Azriel would feel alone, uncared for, abandoned, or cast away. There wouldn’t come a day when he wouldn’t smile with happiness, wouldn’t feel loved and claimed.

In his dreams during the night, Eris saw three figures in the distance, walking hand in hand, with the one in the center being a quarter the size of the other two. The sounds of their laughs reverberated through him as he watched them fade into the fog. A promise. An old wish. A peek into one of the many futures he could have.

Eris extended a hand towards them, taking a step into the mist.

How far am I to reach you?

How long until I meet you?

He could swear that, in the fog, the smallest figure turned over the shoulder and answered him.

Look up.

Chapter Text

“You sure you want to spend a month in the Winter Court during Summer?” Azriel asked, not quite getting Eris’s point.

“I like being random,” the High Lord shrugged, finishing packing his things to deliver the apartment that day. They were to leave Nagara and arrive in Oslo. “Plus, there’s still a lot of time until the Midsummer festival in Tarquin’s Court. I want to kill some time until then.”

“And freeze your ass off while waiting?” Azriel inquired, a brow raised in question.

“Don’t like the cold, Cupcake?” Eris came closer, bag in hand, fully clothed in an elegant dark wine long coat.

“I’m not a fan,” the shadowsinger admitted.

The long years he’d spent in the harshness of the Illyrian Mountains, war camps, and freezing cells still clung to his bones. Some days, Azriel felt that cold reach his soul, a kind of frost that paralyzed him, ate up his will to do things. The weight of those centuries was like fighting against a blizzard of dark thoughts. However, that ball of ice around his heart had slowly begun melting since a bright, living fire had become a constant presence in his days.

Eris gave him a soft smile, his warm hand trailing Azriel’s cheek. “I’ll keep you warm, beautiful. Staying close to a Fire Lord has its perks, you know?” He winked, heading for the door.

Azriel’s lips curled up slightly, and he pressed a hand on Eris’s back, following him outside. Linking fingers with the High Lord as Eris winnowed them to the new apartment in the Winter Court caused weird sensations on Azriel’s body. He felt like holding the grip on Eris’s hand a while longer, but the redhead was already opening the door to reveal a forest cottage-like interior.

As it was classic of Kallias’s Court, there was fur everywhere, and mantels in each room to warm up the place. The white pelts scattered on the couches and armchairs, on the floor, and even on the bed gave the shadowsinger a few ideas for their nights in. The apartment had a balcony with a view of a thick pine forest, the frosty trees giving off a melancholic vibe.

Azriel sprawled on the furred bed while Eris opened his bag and started using his magic to organize his daily items in the drawers and wardrobe, separating outfits for the days. It mesmerized Azriel how meticulous Eris was with his things, and if there was something he’d noticed about the Autumn High Lord on those days together was that the male planned everything in advance. That was to be expected, for it was something his role demanded of him, but sometimes, Azriel got himself thinking if there was more to that, if perhaps, just like Eris wore carefully selected clothes as daily armor, planning was another weapon in his arsenal.

Even on vacation, the redhead followed some kind of self-imposed cronogram. It was as if Eris needed to know what he would do every hour of his days. Azriel took note of that fact. He wondered if the High Lord had made a list of every place he wished to visit in the Winter Court already.

A woosh of magic caught his attention, and Azriel’s eyes fell on his side, on the folded paper that appeared on the bed.

Azriel,

There’s been a situation in Roosevelt. Can you come to Velaris today? I wish to speak in person.

Rhys.

Azriel froze.

What situation? What had happened in Roosevelt?

Fucking Rhys and his half-word messages.

Anxiety clutched his heart, and he rose from the bed, his gaze going to Eris, who was already staring at him as if sensing his disturbance.

“I need to go back to Velaris today, Rhys wishes to speak to me,” the shadowsinger informed.

“Alright,” Eris replied, eyes studying him. If he noticed how Azriel’s body had gone stiff, how his voice sounded weird, he made no comment. “When will you be back?”

“I don’t know. Tonight, I hope,” Azriel answered, and Eris came closer. If he sensed Azriel’s racing thoughts, Eris didn’t let it show. But the redhead circled his waist, enveloping the shadowsinger in a hug, and that growing anxiety in Azriel’s chest gave in a little. Azriel embraced him back, hiding his face in Eris’s neck, breathing in his calming, spice-sweet scent. He wanted to stay hidden in his arms and not face what probably awaited him. He didn’t want to go back alone for some reason, but he couldn’t ask Eris to come along for this.

“Stay safe,” Eris said. “Remember to eat properly,” he admonished, but his soft voice and the care in his tone warmed Azriel’s heart. “I’ll miss you.” Eris’s eyes flickered with flames as he stared at him, and Azriel couldn’t help but feel his cheeks flush, his stomach fluttering.

His arms wrapped around Eris’s shoulders, and Azriel kissed him on the mouth, letting Eris’s heat transfer to him, letting himself be surrounded by his warmth. Eris kissed him back with tenderness, traveling his hands on Azriel’s waist, pulling him closer.

Azriel caressed his cheek, pressing a peck on his lips. “I’ll be back as soon as I’m finished. Have fun today, Pumpkin.”

.

“How is she?”

Azriel sat across from the healer, waiting for the report. The young, dark-haired female High Fae, an apprentice under Madja’s supervision, was responsible for the asylum in Roosevelt, and she had sent word to Rhys earlier that day about the state of one of the patients. He’d come here right after speaking to his brother, refusing his offer to come with him. Azriel tried and failed to control his shaky hands under the table, but at least his features were schooled enough not to react to the pity in the female’s eyes.

“She’s unharmed, we’ve healed the superficial wounds she inflicted on herself. Her body is fine, but as for her mind…” The healer hesitated. “I had to sedate her because the other patients were disturbed by the yelling and loud noises. She wouldn’t recognize her own name.”

Bad.

That was bad.

“What… what kind of wounds did she…” He couldn’t manage to finish. His body betrayed him as pain laced his heart, making it hard to breathe.

“To her neck,” the female explained. “She scratched at her neck as if… trying to pull out something. I can hardly imagine what she went through, to have such a hallucination…”

Yes, no one would ever be able to imagine it.

Azriel swallowed hard, dark memories from his first decades of life lurking in his mind. He forced his words out, “Has she had any other breakdown? Harmed anyone? Did her symptoms get worse?”

Again, pity showed in the healer’s eyes. Azriel wanted to ripple that from her face, to yell, but as he always did, he shoved it down to his already overflowing sea of darkness. “She hasn’t harmed anyone, most days she remains peaceful. But… she seems to remember less and less as time passes, especially from the earlier years of her life.”

“Have you found any way to help her?”

Azriel didn’t want to sound so desperate, didn’t want to let so much pain fill his words. But after so many years… it wasn’t fair… It wasn’t fair. Not her. Never her. It shouldn’t be like that… It should be him in her place, paying for his sins, and her, happily enjoying the peace the world rejoiced in.

“I’ve done the best I can, Azriel,” she answered, and he hated the soft tone in which she spoke, hated the helplessness in her voice. “It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. I’ve brought her case to my colleagues, but at this point, there’s nothing to be done. It’s a mental degenerative disease born from trauma. It’s taking her brain day by day. Even the High Lord has tried to breach her mind, but not only are her memories blurred, but she feels unbearable pain when accessing her subconscious. It’s risky to try that again.”

The lump in his throat was a physical barrier to his voice, and the only thing that came out was, “Will she die…?”

There was a pause. The air became heavy, the oppressive truth slicing his chest open. “Yes,” she replied. One single word tore his soul apart, and Azriel fought like hell not to let tears fall in front of the female. “It will reach a point where she might become a living husk, her consciousness completely gone. And then…”

“When…” He stammered.

“There’s no saying. A year, two. Three, in the best of scenarios.” The female waited for him to process, to digest the information. “Do you wish to see her?”

A nod.

There were no words left in him.

There was nothing that could comfort him, for the knife plunged in his heart made it bleed.

Azriel followed silently after the female, through the wooden corridors he already knew so well. The building where the asylum had been settled wasn’t big, with only enough rooms for the patients and the caretakers, and the common areas. It was a peaceful place, quiet, far from the Illyrian war camp, closer to the forest. It was ideal for troubled souls to heal and find their way back into everyday life. At least most of them.

The healer opened a simple oak door, and Azriel’s eyes immediately fell on the female resting on the bed, on her chest expanding and retracting with long, deep breaths. Her once glimmering tawny skin was paler, her vibrant black hair devoid of its natural light, opaque. At least she wasn’t malnourished, as had happened in the past. She had put up some weight since the last time Azriel had seen her.

His gaze lingered on her neck, where faint lines were still visible. Nail marks. He guessed the healer hadn’t bandaged her not to frighten her, for the white cloth might give her the sensation of being strangled. Her wings were carefully folded by her sides on the bed, but Azriel could still see the scars on them, the permanent damage.

Azriel sat on the chair by the bed, and the healer closed the door, giving him privacy. The female groaned, shifting under the blanket, until her lids opened, revealing the identical shade of hazel of Azriel’s eyes. Her gaze fell on him, narrowing slightly.

The shadowsinger looked back at her, at the face so similar to his own, still young and beautiful despite the age. He pulled up his act, the trained smile he’d mastered those years for her, the only armor he had to defend against the truth he could not accept.

“Hello, Mirna,” he saluted her, his voice gentle. He did not touch her, nor did he call her Mom. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“Who are you?”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

When Eris arrived home that night, the apartment was silent and dark. He didn’t sniff any scent, which meant Azriel hadn’t come back yet. The High Lord tried not to give it too much thought, but his chest was heavy for some reason. He had been like that since Azriel had left, clearly disturbed by whatever was in the message he’d received.

He made dinner unhurried, setting the table for two. But after an hour passed and the shadowsinger didn’t appear, he ate alone. Eris didn’t like that worry clutching at him; it could be nothing, just a mission for the Night Court, he told himself. Even so, Eris wasn’t able to gobble down much food, so he covered the dinner leftovers for later, in case Azriel arrived hungry.

Eris got ready for bed, and the Illyrian still didn’t come back. The High Lord lay on his left side, stretching his arm to the side of the bed that Azriel usually occupied each night. It felt weird not to see him before sleep, to give him a good-night kiss and tease the shadowsinger before they fell asleep. It would be weirder not to wake up pressed against him. Only that night, it hit Eris how used he had gotten to Azriel's presence.

His dreams had been distressing, and it felt like a fist was clenched around his chest. He rolled on the bed and woke up so many times that, at some point, he gave up on trying to sleep. He brewed himself some tea, going to the balcony to watch the sunrise early in the morning. Still, Azriel hadn’t returned. Eris decided to stay home and wait, concern weighing on him. He turned on his symphodisk and started doing crochet, following the guide he’d bought along with threads and needles. It helped keep his hands occupied, giving him the sensation that he was being somewhat productive, but his mind wandered to his days by Azriel’s side, yearning for seeing him.

This was a terrible sign, Eris thought.

He had decided to wait, and still, his feelings grew stronger each passing day. Eris wanted to both yell at himself for stopping going along with his day, and embrace the worry he felt, for he had a good intuition about things. However, this being the second time he’d ever considered taking a step into commitment with someone, Eris didn’t know where to draw the line. He wasn’t sure what was normal, how much of his concern was natural, or a sign of emotional dependency.

He couldn’t allow himself to become emotionally dependent again, to stop doing things and having fun because of someone else. He had let his life revolve around Eddar in the past, and gnawing anxiety used to eat at him when the male disappeared out of the sudden, only to show up days later as if nothing was the matter. Eddar would say Eris worried too much, had even called him ‘controlling’ regarding their relationship, and those words rang alarms in Eris’s mind.

It had made him feel like he was Beron, like he and his father were yet the same side of a coin. Eris had constantly questioned his sanity, searched for every reason Eddar might say that to him, every reason he himself might feel the need to control his boyfriend. He knew now, after his time to heal, that Eddar had twisted his worry against him. That Eris had merely wanted to make sure he was safe and sound, and it was absolutely natural to care for his beloved’s well-being. It wasn’t as if Eris wanted to know the minimum details of what Eddar did every minute of his day.

But later on, his concern about Eddar’s disappearances had proved true, though not for the reasons he’d thought. Eris should have suspected that Eddar’s evasive answers and the other scents on him were a sign of what he’d been doing, and yet, he had forgiven him. Multiple times, for that matter. Had believed his ex regretted his actions, giving him second, third, forth chances. Those times were usually the most passionate moments they had together, when Eris forgave him. It never lasted, of course. Thinking about Eddar gave Eris gooseflesh. Although he had healed enough from that, his body still remembered and reacted. And that was one of the reasons Eris had conceded himself some time away. It couldn’t go on like that forever.

His mind trailed back to Azriel. He couldn’t get why he felt such desperation in his chest, a feeling that reminded Eris too much of his helplessness in the past. He felt like clawing at his chest to make it stop, his breaths coming out shallow and fast.

You’re stronger than this, he reminded himself, using those same soft, reassuring words. Eris had learned that his own voice could calm him, that his timbre had power over his body, over his pain. Calm down. Breathe. Go take a shower and eat.

Eris’s body reluctantly started to obey his mind. He managed to go through the day, although the discomfort lingered. No matter what strategy Eris had come up with before, this time, none of them worked. Not a relaxing bath. Not good music. Not cooking himself a delicious meal. Not reading a light romance.

His aching heart didn’t relent.

.

Three days passed, and on that third night, Eris felt like he was going mad as he rolled and rolled on the bed, unable to sleep. Exhaustion spread on every limb, and his blood had started buzzing in his veins, as if rushing faster, unable to stall.

Then, a noise came from the living room. A loud ‘thump’. Like something falling heavily on the floor. Eris didn’t process his own reaction. He was already moving, opening the bedroom door in a rush.

That pain in his chest reached an unbearable level as he stared at Azriel, dropped to the floor in front of the furred couch. His wings were scattered by his sides, and his face was hidden in his crossed arms, lying on the cushion. However, it was the silent sobs that undid Eris. Azriel was crying.

At first, he didn’t approach, uncertain of how to act, how to help. But then his feet were moving, reaching closer.

Azriel noticed his steps, but without raising his head, he wailed, “Leave me alone.”

Eris sat on the floor, behind the shadowsinger, and slowly wrapped his arms around his middle, hugging him, pressing his cheek against Azriel’s back.

“No.”

“Go away…” Azriel tried, but his voice faded, his body didn’t even move away from his touch, as if there was no strength left in him.

“No.” Eris refused to move, tightening his embrace.

The sobs were more audible now, and Eris couldn’t take it. Each felt like a stab, like sharp fangs plunging into his skin. The raw pain they revealed made Eris want to see Azriel’s face, to try to close that wound, to protect him. When he tried to twist his body, though, Azriel resisted, stiff as a rock.

“Azriel, look at me,” Eris asked, calm and gentle as he tried turning the shadowsinger.

“I said, leave me alone!” He shouted, his elbow lunging back to hit him.

Eris dodged it easily, and this time, he used his strength, forcing Azriel to face him as he trapped him against the couch. The lines of tears that ran down his face made something vital break in Eris’s heart. He wasn’t ready to see that expression, the reddened eyes with dark circles under them, the pale lips.

“I won’t leave you,” Eris stated, and Azriel’s breaths were shallow as he stared at him. “If you truly wished to be alone, you would have gone to your place in Velaris. And yet you came here. You came here knowing I would do this.”

Azriel didn’t reply, but his breath hitched, and more tears rolled down as if in confirmation. It was all Eris needed to know.

“Come here,” he said softly, and passed his arms around the Illyrian, making him stand before Eris scooped Azriel in his arms. Azriel hid his face in his neck, and Eris could swear his breaths calmed down a little.

He had never carried a male, much less one with wings. Azriel was heavy with all those muscles and his size, but it wasn’t an impediment. The High Lord carried him to the bathroom, slowly settling Azriel in the bathtub. With a snap of his fingers, the shadowsinger’s clothes were off. Eris poured water to prepare the bath, his fire magic instantly warming it to a comfortable temperature.

Azriel kept his head low, his knees pressing against his chest, in utter silence. Eris didn’t say anything, either. He picked some bath salts to add to the water, using a hand to mix them. He watched Azriel from under his lashes as he stirred the water, brading the tub’s edge and resting his head on it. The ache inside him had shifted from concern to an urge to protect the male. Eris would do anything to earn a smile from Azriel, to make his lips curl up like when he teased him.

Grabbing a perfumed soap, Eris sat on his calves behind Azriel and slid it on his back in tender lines. His hands ran over his skin in appreciation, bathing him, washing his hair, his wings. Azriel stayed still during all of it, the silent tears still falling from the corners of his closed eyes. The shadowsinger allowed Eris’s touches, allowed him to see him in his vulnerability, and had consciously chosen to come here despite his private nature. Gods, if it didn’t say enough…

Eris realized, then, that deep down, this was what he truly needed confirmation for. More than building a future with someone and all it involved with his role, his dreams… That would never be possible if his partner wasn’t willing to let him in. In the past, Eris thought that having the same dreams and goals was enough to build a strong foundation. But no matter how much he planned that, Eris had never been able to talk about himself, and to learn about Eddar’s internal issues. Trying to approach the topic was like slamming a fist onto a wall.

As his hands traveled along Azriel’s skin, Eris wondered if, perhaps, it was possible to be in a relationship with someone who shared different dreams and goals, and instead, shared the same beliefs and core values. Being different was inevitable, for every person was unique in their own way. And in fact, Azriel was pretty much different from him. However, he offered Eris the very thing he needed the most. Honesty. Truthfulness. Openness. And trust.

Even though the shadowsinger didn’t speak during the bath, the gesture itself conveyed the message. I trust you to see me like this and not use it against me. It was like a blow to his heart. Eris felt honored to have such trust, and to realize he wasn’t the only one opening up. The Illyrian offered him the same. Eris didn’t ask what had happened, letting the silence sink in, letting Azriel process whatever was eating at him. As a matter of fact, he knew well what it was like to have painful things in his soul, too raw to be spoken aloud.

Once he finished, he made Azriel stand again and come out of the tub. Steam erupted around the shadowsinger, drying him, and Eris smiled at seeing that it had caught Azriel’s attention for a second before he lowered his face again, as if ashamed to let Eris see him in such a state.

Eris didn’t warn him as he picked Azriel up in his arms again, now walking to the bedroom. He dressed the shadowsinger in a comfortable, fluffy black robe and made him lie on the bed.

“I’ll be right back,” he announced, pressing a kiss to Azriel’s forehead.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Azriel curled within himself over the furs, alone as Eris headed out of the bedroom. His eyes watched the flickering flames in the mantel, the shadows they cast on the walls. He was exhausted. He had barely slept the past two days, helping at Roosevelt with chopping wood, carrying things around, organizing supplies, anything to ease his mind that there was something he could do, making sure the place had all they needed to take care of the patients.

At night, the nightmares had come back at full force. He would wake up with a scream lodged in his throat, with streams of tears on his face. It wasn’t fair. It should be him, not her, in such a state. And the devastating truth was that he would be all alone in this world once she left. Then, there would truly be no more purpose in his life. There would be no one to fight for, no one to gift this peace to.

Moving on and living happily was a foreign concept to him. Not only couldn’t Azriel deal with his past, but he couldn’t open up to others. He was too somber; he had a gloomy aura that would taint anyone who might feel slightly interested in him. And on top of that, Azriel had always chosen to pursue those bright souls, like Mor. Like Elain. Deep down, he’d hoped they would cast away this darkness, with light, with flowers.

But he knew he had been lying to himself. He had chosen them because he knew it would never work out. The desire was true, but since the beginning, he knew it was destined to fail, not because of them, but of himself. Azriel was used to falling back to his comfort zone, painful, but bearable. Better to drag a situation without receiving a negative answer than going after what he wanted. And even if that person returned his feelings…

Silently desiring someone was one thing. Actually pursuing things, knowing he might come to love that person… Not possible. Loving again would kill him.

It was killing him now. Love was the only thing that had kept him going through his long life. He’d fought and killed and tainted his hands with blood, had done all the dirty work required from him, to make this kind of world possible. For those bright souls to be allowed to shine. And yet, the one bright soul he’d wished to enjoy all of this, couldn’t. Would soon perish and leave him behind.

He was brought back from his thoughts when Eris entered the bedroom again, a mug and a plate in his hands. He sat by Azriel’s side, placing the food on the nightstand, then speared his fingers in Azriel’s hair, gently. Tears burned in his eyes again. Azriel didn’t know he still had more to shed. He didn’t fight it as Eris nestled on the pillow, bringing Azriel against his chest, wrapping an arm around him, and pulling up the furs to cover their legs.

Warm drops indeed fell this time when Eris brushed a thumb on his cheek, tenderly, his other hand traveling on Azriel’s back in a soothing caress to calm him down. The High Lord hadn’t asked what happened, hadn’t forced him to talk.

All he said, to make desperate sobs break free from Azriel’s throat again, was, “I’m here.”

Azriel let out that pain, then, and the wave of overflowing darkness crashed over him. He gripped Eris’s waist, curling against him, hiding in the male’s arms as Eris enveloped him tightly, breathing against his hair. It might be his imagination, but Azriel felt like Eris’s breaths were also short, as if he, too, was physically affected by the pain he poured into those tears.

“I’m with you,” he repeated, and Azriel let his warmth surround him, let Eris’s scent calm him down. He nuzzled Eris’s neck, taking deep breaths. Peace weaved its way inside him, slowly making that darkness recoil, nestle in warmth. It worked. His heart still ached, but that spice-sweet scent somehow brought him some relief.

They stayed like that for a while, Azriel’s legs crossing over Eris’s as if to get even closer.

“Eat something,” Eris said, turning to the side and offering him one of the cookies on the plate.

“I’m not hungry,” Azriel replied, his voice sounding like a whisper.

“Even so, I spent two hours baking them today, just for you,” the redhead revealed, scratching the shadowsinger’s nape. “Won’t you at least try one and tell me if it’s good?”

Azriel lifted his face from its haven, finding Eris’s amber eyes studying him. There was something new in the way the High Lord gazed at him, a new emotion. Eris brushed his lips on Azriel’s forehead, pressing a kiss there. Then another on his cheek. One at the tip of his nose. One on his lips. Azriel was trembling at that display of affection, his body warming inside, relaxing, letting go of the stiffness from those hard days.

“Just one cookie, hm? Please?” The soft tone of Eris’s voice was heartbreaking. Azriel couldn’t deny him when he spoke like that, smiling at him while stroking his face with tender fingers.

Azriel didn’t reply, but he opened his mouth. His cheeks flushed when Eris laughed, and he fed him the cookie.

Sweet memories came back to him. Of laughter in a small kitchen. Of flour scattered along the floor. Of delicious sweets eaten along a storybook. Of a bright smile he would never forget.

“I know my cooking skills are amazing, but you don’t need to cry over the cookie,” Eris commented, teasing him. Azriel didn’t realize more tears were falling, but that comment caused a shy curl of lips. “Do you want more?” Eris asked, and Azriel nodded.

He devoured the whole plate of cookies and drank all the tea in the mug. Eris had a satisfied smile on his face once Azriel finished, as if proud of himself.

“I have an idea,” the redhead declared, moving away to stand up. Azriel gripped him, not wanting to let go of his warmth. Eris chuckled, kissing the top of his head. “I’ll let you hug me more, if that’s what you want, Cupcake. Just wait, you’re gonna like this.”

Eris walked to the balcony outside the bedroom, making a large armchair appear and placing some furs atop it. Azriel watched him from the bed, curiosity getting the best of him to find out what was on the High Lord’s mind. When Eris finished with the nook, he came back inside, scooping the shadowsinger in his arms for the third time that night. Azriel secretly enjoyed being carried like that, his heart skipping beats at the fact that Eris was toned enough to sustain him.

As they came outside, Azriel realized it wasn’t an armchair, but a divan sofa that Eris had conjured. The redhead sat atop it, lying on the upper part of the cushions and making Azriel rest atop him, careful with his wings on the floor. There was enough space, though they needed to be tightly pressed against each other, so as not to fall.

It wasn’t cold outside. Eris had cast a warm bubble around the balcony, so that the freezing wind at that hour wouldn’t get to them. Something popped out on his hand, and Azriel recognized the symphodisk. Eris placed one of the earbuds in his left ear, the other in Azriel’s right ear, and pressed the top to turn on the device.

Eris selected a song before placing the symphodisk on the floor and wrapping his arms protectively around Azriel, resting his head atop his. The shadowsinger closed his eyes as the familiar song played, letting himself feel the melody.

Under the starry sky, in a cozy bubble of affection and heat, Azriel felt cared for as he hadn’t in a long, long time. As his mind wandered with the music, Eris’s words lingered.

You came here knowing I would do this.

Truth. And lie. He had considered not coming and sinking into his hurt alone. Then he decided against it. Azriel had believed Eris would taunt him with jokes and his good humor to make him forget. Azriel had also believed he would get lost in Eris’s body and forget about his misery in the relief of pleasure. He hadn’t known Eris would do this instead. He hadn’t expected the attentiveness, the bath, the food, or… this.

He had come back to the Winter Court instead of Velaris because, indeed, he didn’t want to be alone in his darkness. He didn’t feel comfortable enough around his oldest friends to let any of them see him in this state. However, something inside him declared it was safe to trust Eris. That the High Lord, being who he was and having gone through what he had, would treat him kindly in his moments of weakness.

He had come looking for light. Instead, he had found warmth. Deep down, Azriel wondered if he’d been looking for the wrong thing in partners. Or for the wrong sex to take a more serious step, for he'd never considered having more than sex with a male. Perhaps he’d craved for light too bright for his eyes, or scents too sweet to calm him down. Perhaps this was what he needed. A cozy pair of warm arms around him, instead of his arms around someone. A taunting and yet calming fragrance, enough to rouse him and ease him at the same time.

Another song played now, and it stunned Azriel to realize it was the same song, in a different version. In Eris’s version.

He lifted his head, looking up at the redhead. “When did you record it?”

Eris grinned. “Yesterday. Thought I might surprise you once you borrowed it.”

In the darkness, with only the mantel’s light filtering through the curtains, Eris’s eyes were astonishingly bright jewels. Azriel couldn’t stop staring at him, couldn’t keep his pulse from racing, couldn’t prevent himself from feeling… that dangerous emotion. He knew Eris for barely a season, how could he feel like this so fast? How was this male able to get all sorts of emotions from him?

Azriel couldn’t say this was only an attraction anymore. Eris had always been handsome, but now it was like Azriel was seeing his soul attached to his exterior. And there was absolutely nothing wicked about Eris. Azriel couldn’t even piece together why he’d hated the Autumn High Lord in the past.

Azriel knew this might happen when he had allowed himself to repeat a night with Eris. He would have only himself to blame if things went to shit, but he couldn’t stop. This could harm him in the future, and yet a part of him didn't care. There wasn’t any space for fear in his heart as Azriel lost himself in those eyes, blazing with warm flames, staring back at him with gentleness.

The shadowsinger moved up to reach Eris’s lips. He took his mouth in a kiss, and it felt different. It felt like coming home. It felt like this, being with him, was where Azriel was supposed to be. It felt like the beginning of a new chapter.

When they parted the kiss, Azriel said, “I like your version more.”

Eris only gave him a knowing look, as if he already knew he was better. He stroked Azriel’s cheek and asked, “Are you ok?”

Azriel averted his eyes for a while, considering. Then he looked back at Eris, his brows knitting, letting the redhead see his pain.

“I went to see my mother. She lives in an asylum in Roosevelt, deep in the Illyrian mountains. And I received word that… that she won’t recover from her illness.”

Understanding and compassion glinted in Eris’s eyes as his caresses continued on the shadowsinger’s face. “What does she have, Cupcake?”

The sweetness with which Eris used the given nickname undid a knot in Azriel’s throat. He removed the earbud, handing it to Eris as the High Lord made the symphodisk disappear.

“A mental disease, post-traumatic, according to the healer. It started as a sporadic loss of memory, and then it progressed to the point that she… she doesn’t remember her name sometimes.”

Silence lingered for a while, and Eris’s gaze traveled over his face, pondering. Whatever he read on his expression led the High Lord to ask, “Does she remember you?”

Azriel swallowed hard, his hands trembling against Eris’s chest. The redhead gave him a look that made Azriel think it pained Eris to know that.

“I see,” Eris said after some time. “I won’t pretend I know what it feels like, because I don’t. But I can tell how much you’re suffering, Azriel.” Eris hesitated, cupping the back of the shadowsinger’s head. “It’s not much, but if there’s any way I can help, I’m here. If you need someone to go with you next time or—”

Azriel kissed him. Deeply this time, unable to tell with words how grateful he was, how touched by his kindness. There had been no ‘I’m sorry’, no ‘Everything will be okay’. Eris had offered the thing Azriel needed the most. Company. His presence. His support for him not to go through that alone.

He poured his thanks in that kiss, his hands going for Eris’s face, trailing his skin until he stationed it at his nape. He didn’t deserve this from the redhead after how he’d treated him. He didn’t deserve him, and yet this male was all he could think about having in his future. Yes, Azriel saw a possibility for a future if Eris… if Eris stayed with him.

He had arrived at the apartment unwilling to find good reasons to go on with his days. That feeling was still with him now, but Eris outshone it. Eris didn’t make that darkness go away and fade. He enveloped it with warmth and let it nest on it; he embraced him as he was, broken and grim, and still wanted to be around him. Eris perhaps knew that the darkness would always be a part of Azriel, would always be there. And yet he treated him like this…

And so Azriel kissed him to let him know how much it meant. To show him how much he appreciated everything he had done and did every day since they’d started to get to know each other. The meals on time he made Azriel eat. The new experiences he made Azriel go through and enjoy. The warm nights free of nightmares by his side.

Once he retreated, Eris’s eyes glinted with emotion, his breath ragged as Azriel caressed him where the tattoo was.

“Hold me,” Azriel uttered, going against all self-preservation, all the discomfort he felt for asking people to do things for him.

“All night if you want,” Eris replied.

“Longer,” Azriel said. He moved up to look at Eris from above, holding his neck tenderly. “Longer,” he repeated, brushing kisses along the High Lord’s face, feeling his soft skin under his lips.

Eris brought his face down, joining their mouths in another kiss, a long, languid move of tongues sliding together as if in longing, as if they’d missed each other. Kissing Eris was never going to get boring. There was no such thing as having enough of his mouth, of smelling him this close while their lips moved against each other.

Eris sat on the divan, and taking Azriel in his arms again, the High Lord carried him inside, placing him back on the bed. Shivers ran through Azriel as Eris came atop him, sliding a hand inside his black robe and palming his chest, the other trailing along Azriel's arm, joining their fingers.

“I want to make love to you,” Eris declared, his red hair falling on Azriel’s face as the High Lord reached closer. “I want you to come in my arms, and then fall asleep between them.”

The way he said it, in that voice, with that flickering emotion in his eyes, was all Azriel could see, all he could think about. And so, he didn’t fight it as that seed took root in his heart, as that feeling started to sprout in his chest.

He circled Eris’s shoulders, leaving his body at the High Lord’s mercy, and said, “Make me feel alive, Eris.”

Chapter Text

PS: quick note
This is how Eris's hair is now, in my description a few chapters ago!

[Song: Like leaves of a lotus]

A few days later, Azriel was sitting on the living room couch, polishing Truth-teller after lunch to relax. He was so full he felt heavy. He could swear he had gained a few pounds, eating Eris’s food almost every day now. He was going to get spoiled, but how would he resist having baked cookies for breakfast, tender meats and vegetables for lunch, and hot, sweet drinks at night before bed? That, and not counting Eris's inventions, some of the days.

He felt like he was living the childhood he'd never been allowed to have now, having someone making him eat regularly and caring for him, checking on his well-being. Sharing an apartment with Eris felt like living in your grandma's cozy house, as he'd heard stories from faeries lucky enough to have such large families. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have a big family of his own, lots of people sharing such warmth.

For the first time in a while, he missed his friends in Velaris, missed the old times when they gathered to drink and play. Azriel had stopped accepting their invitations when his mother's situation had worsened, had avoided them so much that, now, it seemed they all walked on eggshells around him, not knowing how to offer comfort.

Only Rhys knew the truth, and Azriel wanted it to stay that way. He didn't want anyone else's pity. It pained him to watch his friends’ joy while he didn't have it. It was pitiful from his end to hide away and not let them help, not share the burden.

Today, though, he felt… he missed them. And the reason was the male he'd started spending time with. Eris allowed him to just be. His presence was like a warm summer breeze in his days, caressing that cold sadness inside him as if saying it was okay to feel those things. Azriel couldn't explain why he felt so at ease now, talking to Eris. He was sure that, no matter what he said, what he shared, Eris wouldn't judge. On the contrary, the High Lord might offer some insight if he asked, or listen to him while baking those sweet cookies. Eris had seen both his good and bad sides, and nothing had changed.

It was like nothing Azriel had ever had, and he didn’t want this to end. His eyes followed Eris roaming around the apartment, picking up some stuff that the shadowsinger had no idea what for. Asking him to sit still seemed almost like an impossible task, for Eris had to always be doing something. The redhead nestled by his side, crossing his legs on the cushions and weaving a colorful string on his fingers.

“What are you doing?” Azriel asked, curious about Eris’s new kind of entertainment.

“Crochet,” the redhead replied, glancing at him. “Wanna give it a try?”

“I’m fine,” Azriel retorted and shook his head, going back to polishing his blade.

A comfortable silence fell between them until the shadowsinger finished with the dagger and set it aside. He turned to Eris, but he was startled by the redhead dropping his head to Azriel’s lap, sprawling on the couch lazily as he continued his needlework. What a slacker… Azriel looked down at him, arching a brow as the High Lord grabbed the shadowsinger’s hand and placed it atop his hair.

Azriel couldn’t help but snort at his silent request to pet his head. He obliged him, spearing his fingers on Eris’s short strands, the upper part reaching a little past Eris’s chin now, growing fast. Azriel toyed with his red hair, feeling the silky locks. Eris groaned, stopping his knitting and closing his eyes for a moment to enjoy the scratch on his nape, behind his ears.

“Well, aren’t you like a dog…” Azriel commented in a mockery, resting an elbow on the couch’s backrest and propping his head on his hand, watching Eris.

“Says the male who can’t miss a chance at sniffing me.” Eris opened one eye.

Azriel’s cheeks heated, but he didn’t avert his gaze. “You smell nice.”

Both amber orbs stared at him now, and Azriel felt shy at the smile he got in answer. “You’ve become more talkative over the past days. I like it when you're blunt.”

Eris paused, as if an idea had just crossed his mind. Azriel was half-afraid to learn what would come out of his mouth next.

He sighed. “What is it this time…”

Eris chuckled, going back to his crochet. “I need something to hear to entertain me while I do this, and since you’re not doing anything, why don’t you read for me? I like hearing your voice.”

“From bag carrier to living audiobook, you must truly think I’m your butler, hm?” Azriel replied, pinching Eris’s nose.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eris answered, waving Azriel’s hand off. “And last I recall, we’re actually exchanging services. I keep you fed. In all ways.” A wicked grin at Azriel. “What is a little task here and there?”

Azriel shook his head, tsking. “Alright, give me the book.”

He almost smiled as Eris beamed with his agreement, snapping his fingers to make a book appear in his hand. Azriel hadn’t realized Eris had a boyish side to him, a side that made him look young and… cute. It sounded weird to say the Autumn High Lord was cute when Azriel knew well the kind of threat he was if provoked, having seen his cold, cunning mask in the past. But looking at the excitement in Eris’s gaze as he handed Azriel the book and waited for the story, the shadowsinger couldn’t resist traveling a hand along Eris’s face, entranced by that expression, more so when Eris purred at the caress. He wondered how many people knew this side of him.

So Azriel started reading aloud while Eris did crochet. He lost track of time, narrating the book while trailing soft caresses on Eris's head. The afternoon turned into evening, and only as the sunset filtered through the window did they stop. Eris sat straight again, pressing a kiss to Azriel’s cheek in thanks before he stood. Azriel's pulse quickened at that because the gesture felt like they were a real couple, like those younglings on the brink of spring, courting each other, exchanging sweet glances and timid kisses.

Azriel wouldn’t pretend he hadn’t noticed how different things were between them lately, especially after that day he’d returned from Roosevelt, devastated and broken. And he didn’t think he could pretend that he didn’t have feelings for Eris anymore. He didn’t have it in him to act cold and indifferent, to push Eris away to protect himself. After that day, Azriel felt that if he allowed himself to take the next step with Eris, the redhead would take care of him. He would treasure his heart if Azriel gave it to him.

But still, Eris was the Autumn High Lord. How would that work? Eris had said a while ago that he wasn’t looking for a relationship and that he was tired of people seeking his hand in marriage. Had that changed since they started seeing each other, or did Eris only see this as an exciting vacation romance before going back to his responsibilities as High Lord? And on top of that, Azriel was sure the nobles in the Autumn Court would expect Eris to marry a female to produce an heir. Still... The thought of Eris ending things with him made his heart ache.

“You sure you don’t want to come with me?” Eris asked, coming into view again, dressed in a formal black and amber brocade attire.

He finished attaching the gold thread earring to his right earlobe, and Azriel almost sighed at how dazzling he looked in those colors, how much Eris shone, even wearing black from head to toe. He wondered if it was intentional, since the winter Lords would probably frown at that choice of color. His outfit for the ball in the Winter Palace was a last call pick, according to Eris. Azriel had learned that the High Lord had been invited to many balls and parties lately, but that he selected carefully which events to attend.

That ball was a more intimate occasion, for nobles from all the Courts to gather and chat in Oslo, different from the great celebrations held during Ninsar or the Equinox festivals. So Azriel decided to stay home, to spare his social skills for another day instead of engaging in superficial conversation.

However, looking at Eris all dressed up, insecurity clawed at his chest for letting him go alone. They didn’t have a title for this thing between them. They had both agreed to let things unfold, but in this case, Azriel felt anxious about Eris meeting someone more interesting there, someone more suitable as a partner, equal in status and nobility. If someone asked Eris about a relationship, what would Eris say?

“You go ahead, Pumpkin,” Azriel replied, still sitting on the couch. “I don’t feel like interacting today.”

Eris’s eyes lingered on him for a moment, but his expression betrayed nothing as he nodded. Would he be disappointed for going alone?

“Alright then,” the High Lord said. “I’m heading out. See you later.”

And then, waving a hand, he vanished.

Azriel stared at the door, cold filling his heart for some reason.

Twenty minutes passed, and he was still in the same position, lost in thought.

Was he really not going after Eris? What were a few hours away, anyway? They could do things separately. Still, Azriel felt worried. Something told him tonight wasn’t a night to stay home and let his High Lord unsupervised. His High Lord. It sounded as good as it sounded scary.

Why was it that this male made him want to go against all his safety standards and melted all his walls? Azriel wanted to let things flow, but he also wanted to name what they had. He wanted Eris for himself, to be able to say, if asked, that he was his boyfriend, to keep greedy eyes away from Eris. And that was why it scared him.

Azriel had never thought about actually taking action regarding claiming someone as his. He'd been content to imagine and watch from a distance, but not this time. Only thinking about Eris with someone else, moving forward, and forgetting about him, it was unbearable. It hurt more than he was ready to admit.

It wasn't about the sex anymore. Gods, it hadn't been since they'd slept together for the second time. Azriel knew that the moment he'd broken his own rule. And even knowing he could get unnameably screwed, his locked feelings had spoken louder. They had thrown themselves at Eris in a desperate plea to be embraced and accepted. They called from a place of helplessness, but also hope. Hope that, once his mother left, he would still have someone. Not a friend, not a lover, but something in between and beyond. Someone who would make him want to live the life his mother had dreamed he would.

There were many frightening things in this world. Danger, evil, prejudice, and suffering of all sorts. Azriel knew it wasn't going to be easy. He knew that a relationship had its ups and downs, and that he would have to open up. He was keenly aware that both he and Eris had traumas, and that it would take time to reach mutual understanding in some things. He had thought about being in a relationship many times already, but these very things had stopped him from taking that step.

Well, not anymore. Not with Eris. If he felt like risking it, then his feelings were worth fighting for this time. Fuck it. Fuck all of that, he didn't care about titles or race or wealth. He didn't care about prejudice and social status either; he'd suffered with it for years already. The only thing he wanted to know was Eris's end on that; that was all that mattered.

So Azriel stood. He was going to do it. He was going to tell Eris tonight that he wanted to have something serious. He wanted a relationship with him, and until they talked, he wouldn’t let such a precious person escape through his fingers.

Azriel headed to the bedroom and, opening the wardrobe door, his lips curled. Time to surprise Eris with an outfit he hadn’t yet shown the High Lord.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

[Song: How Deep Is Your Love]

The ballroom was fully decorated in shades of white, from the tile floor to the ceiling to the white flowers scattered on the walls. Eris was led by a servant into the salon, taking in his surroundings, the music, and the sea of pale, white-haired High Fae. Some engaged in conversation by the food tables, others took the dance floor, and others tried not to attract attention in more intimate talks close to the walls. The High Lord greeted some people who recognized him, trailing his way through the room, spotting some blotches of color here and there, nobles from other courts, for sure.

Eris sighed. As soon as he’d arrived, he felt like going back home. Not because he didn’t enjoy events like this, but it didn’t feel as fun if Azriel wasn’t there with him. They’d probably be gossiping about people like they did in the Dawn Court, trying to guess what they were talking about and who would make a move on whom.

He took a glass of sparkling wine from a tray, savouring the drink, until a female approached to invite him to a dance. He politely refused, as he did the next two. Females had been too invested in him the past few years, since he was officially still single, and they did all sorts of things to catch his attention. Sometimes he wanted to laugh at how some embarrassed themselves only to get a glimpse from him. They should have more pride. Were it any other day, he might have been on the dance floor since the beginning, though. Dancing was liberating, and Eris enjoyed the feeling of spinning around and letting his body flow with the song. However, today, even though he wanted to dance, there was someone he wanted to do it with, someone who hadn’t come.

Eris chuckled at himself. That would surely be a reason for gossip and speculation should he take Azriel for a dance. He’d never seen two males dancing in events like this. In some courts, it wasn’t part of the etiquette, like in Autumn. His father had been homophobic, and the mere idea of two males or two females tainting the court’s image in public was punishable by death. Eris had made sure to abolish that law, even against some of his councilors’ wills.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Eris almost spat his drink at the sound of that voice. His head snapped to his left, and dread coiled inside him as he faced Eddar, fully dressed in Autumn colors, his chestnut brown hair swept back elegantly. In the past, seeing him in these kinds of events would make Eris's heart flutter. Now, as Eddar's brown eyes studied him, that made the redhead feel uncomfortable. It always felt like Eddar could see through him, for he was the person who knew Eris the most. At least his past self.

Eris felt his body reacting, urging him to get out of the Lord’s sight, but he did his best to school his features. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Eddar slithered around him, taking in Eris's short hair thrown to the right side of his face, unable to hide the slightly bulging eyes. The glint of anger behind his mask of coolness was unmistakable to Eris. The High Lord felt like shoving a hand through his strands in Eddar’s face, to show him the tattoo and say to his face that what Eddar had told him all those years ago had been cruel, wicked, and belittling. However, there was nothing to be gained by calling him out. It didn’t work like that for self-centered people like Eddar. The male would never admit he was wrong, never say sorry. He would twist the facts to favor his image, building up such a convincing story that anyone might believe him.

“You look… quite different, Eris,” Eddar commented, distaste coiling at the back of his clipped tone. “You've been avoiding me. I've tried to find you for months now.”

“You’ve been informed of my absence from the Court during this year. I can fathom no reason why you should be looking for me in my resting time.”

Eddar scoffed, taking a step closer, and Eris came out of his path. “I’ve offered you help with work, and yet you refused me each time.” Yes, he had. But not without gaining something in return. “I wanted to hang out, and you never once spared me some time. So I wonder, why rest now? I know you, Eris,” he drawled his name, and Eris felt a dreadful shiver down his spine. “You don’t do things without reason. Are you running away, baby? Why are you here tonight?”

“For fun, like anybody else,” Eris responded, making himself sound bored with the conversation. However, fear clawed inside him at the thought of being chased, even though he was more powerful than Eddar. Sure, the bastard wouldn’t think of why he’d refused his advances. Eddar truly thought he’d done nothing wrong and that Eris was just being “dramatic”, was just “overthinking”.

“Is it?” Eddar smiled, but Eris noticed the irony. “You’ve refused three females to dance. That’s not like you, unless you’re lost in thought. You’re imagining what it’d be like if someone else invited you, someone you loved.”

The bastard could read him despite his masks, so his comment had landed true. Though not down the path the idiot thought of. It was not Eddar that Eris loved anymore, but in his ex's mind, that was the only possibility. It had been the only possibility until a few years ago. Eddar was right to think Eris was running away from him. He had to rest, sure, but he needed time away to strengthen himself before going back to Autumn, time to pull up a better armor against Eddar in the Court.

He knew Eddar was quietly investigating, then he would strike where it hurt most to get what he wanted. Eris knew where this conversation was going. He had avoided Eddar for as much as he could in Autumn because he knew what the male desired. To have Eris back in his bed. To reassure himself that he still had a hold on Eris, and after some time, after tying his leash again and showering Eris with promises, he would find a new toy, someone new to flirt with, a challenge to make bend to him.

Eris hated him, and hated himself even more for having come back to Eddar many times in the past, seeking him out a while after their breakups, despite knowing, deep down, that the male wouldn’t change. That Eddar never intended to keep his word. Because of his dependency, of his need for having someone, anyone, to be there for him, Eris had fallen prey to Eddar’s charms, again and again. And he had paid the price for being naive. He had dug his own grave regarding Eddar's behavior now. The Lord had ammunition to use against him.

Eris despised him more than he let show to others. People wouldn’t know, because they were all entranced by Eddar. Everyone thought him to be a caring Lord, easygoing, trustworthy. Eddar was an excellent actor. He spun lies as easily as he breathed. How would people guess what he was truly like? How would they believe Eris’s words when he was the only one who knew the farce behind Eddar’s trained smiles?

[Song: Nobody gets me]

Eris’s eyes traveled along the salon, letting Eddar think he had the upper hand in that talk.

Then, he saw him.

His heart started galloping in his chest.

The world suddenly became brighter, the colors more vivid, and sounds faded around him as he processed what he was looking at. Who he was looking at.

The wings were unmistakable. The white long vest was the first thing Eris noticed, embroidered with gold along the edges. The inner shirt was wine-red, tied at the neck. The white tailored trousers hugged the strong legs, and as Eris’s gaze trailed up, he saw the elegant black gloves, the golden necklace threaded to the center of his chest. The ears had a single barbell on the shells, and Eris felt his legs threatening to fail him as he took in the full sight of the Spymaster of the Night Court, entering the ballroom and attracting attention to his stunning figure, tall and imposing.

Azriel’s eyes darted around, as if searching for him, and when their gazes met across from the salon, Eris felt like there were birds flying in his stomach, not butterflies. Eddar had never once made Eris feel like this. His ex had fallen silent as he watched him, likely thinking Eris’s delighted gaze was because of him. Eris let a smile spread on his lips as Azriel wound his way into the crowd to reach him, tucking in his wings not to hit anyone.

He had come. He had… Oh fucking Mother above, his heart would burst if it beat any faster.

“Actually, you’re right,” Eris finally answered Eddar, looking back at him. “I was imagining what these people might think when my boyfriend arrives and takes me for a dance.”

Eddar grinned, taking a step closer. “I knew you’d come back to me, baby.”

Sure he would believe that. Eris hadn’t dated anyone other than Eddar, and the male had used that as proof in the past, proof that Eris's inability to find someone else was because Eddar was the only one for him. But Eris didn’t say anything, the smile still on his lips as Azriel reached them silently. The shadowsinger’s brows were furrowed as he noticed Eddar, who had his back to the Illyrian and didn’t see him coming.

Eddar was about to take another step, his hand lifting to touch Eris, when Azriel, blocking the male’s path, slid an arm around Eris’s shoulders, his large wing folding around the redhead protectively.

Eris’s relief was instantaneous as he sank into Azriel's body. He felt an overwhelming sense of protection, of ease. He allowed himself to breathe normally again, the smile still on his face as he stared at Eddar, who had backed up, scowling in confusion as he studied the tall, threatening male by Eris’s side, clearly drawing the line.

“Is he bothering you?” Azriel asked, his hand caressing Eris’s bicep in reassurance.

“Who are you?” Eddar snapped, marking the shadowsinger’s arm around him, marking Eris’s arm wrapping around Azriel’s waist, and his body pressing closer to the Illyrian.

Azriel’s eyes pierced Eddar, and the shadows coiling in his wings, usually calm and collected near Eris, darted out, hissing like snakes at the brown-haired male, who paled before them.

“My boyfriend,” Eris said lazily. It was gratifying, really. Eddar’s expression right now was deemed a portrait. “As I was telling you.”

Eris could swear Azriel’s hand paused at his shoulder for a second before he pressed a kiss to the side of Eris’s head, close to his ear. Eddar marked that, too, and Eris gave him a wicked grin as he noticed the curling of his ex’s fists.

“You sure play wicked games, Eris,” Eddar started, rage taking his face, but the male gobbled it down, masking it behind a fake smile. “I didn’t think you would sully yourself with the rabble.”

Eris didn’t take the bait. If he reacted to defend Azriel from the insult, Eddar would have his way. Instead, he took Azriel’s gloved hand over his shoulder, pressing a kiss on its back, and smiled at his ex. “Oh, you’d be baffled by the sullied things he and I do, wouldn't he, love?”

Azriel smirked, nibbling at Eris’s ear in answer, enjoying the provocation, and the High Lord saw Eddar’s smile falter, his jaw tickling as rage took the best of him for a moment before he schooled himself. Eris had called Eddar ‘love’ once. His ex had thought he’d never say that to anyone else.

“If you’ll excuse us,” Azriel said, dropping his arm and tangling his fingers with Eris’s. “I came to fetch him for myself. Enjoy the ball.” And then he pulled Eris along, not waiting for a reply.

Eris didn’t look back to see what Eddar might have stamped on his face. He was more focused on calming his heartbeats, on Azriel’s hand on his, leading him away and into the crowd. They stopped at a table on the other side of the salon, hidden in an alcove to talk more privately, and then, silence fell between them for a moment.

The High Lord stared at their intertwined fingers, at Azriel’s hazel eyes, so bright in that stunning outfit.

“When did you buy this?” Eris asked, his chin tipping up to point at Azriel's clothes, breaking the stupor. “I don’t recall selecting it that time.”

Azriel’s lips curled up, and Eris felt his pulse race. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, congratulations. You got my heart to almost stop back there,” Eris admitted, earning a chuckle from the shadowsinger. “You look like a prince.”

“I couldn't look bad when you outshine everyone in here,” Azriel pointed out, and Eris felt his cheeks warm. For someone so bad at communicating a few months ago, Eris could barely recognize him now, so outspoken. “Who was that?” Azriel asked, trailing a thumb on the back of Eris's hand.

“My toxic ex,” Eris answered. “He's the reason why I didn't want a relationship. Well… not until now. Not until I met you…” He looked at Azriel under lowered lashes. Fuck hiding that he wanted it.

The shadowsinger leaned in, his mouth brushing Eris’s ear. “Hm… So I am your boyfriend now?”

Eris shivered; the smile Azriel gave him, as if happy with that fact, was too much.

“Would you like to be? I said that to get rid of Eddar, but I…” his eyes flickered as he watched Azriel. “I really wanted to ask you.”

Azriel’s free hand went for Eris’s neck, caressing him there. A boyish smile danced on the shadowsinger’s lips as he revealed, “Funny thing, because I came tonight to ask you the same. I want us to be more. Do you want to date me, Eris?”

Eris’s mouth parted, his heart thundering in his chest. They were going to do it. Azriel wanted to try it, too. He wanted this. It took a few swallows for him to find his words again.

“I’d be delighted, Azriel, to be your boyfriend.” He leaned closer, brushing his thumb on Azriel’s cheek. “I want to go down this road with you. Just be patient with me, it’s been a long time since I’ve been in a relationship.”

Azriel tilted his head to the side. “At least you have been in a relationship. I have zero experience. I’m sure you’re the one who’ll have to be patient.”

Eris snorted. “I’m your first boyfriend, then? No girlfriend, either?”

Azriel shook his head. “No one.”

The redhead couldn’t help but blush at the revelation. He felt special that Azriel was willing to be with him. He remembered him saying he couldn’t return the feelings of other people all those months ago. Eris didn’t think that to be true for one second; there might be something more to it. For him to decide to do it now, to wish to name what they had, asking him so explicitly after trying to hide he wanted Eris not so long ago… that said a lot about how much he meant to Azriel.

“Then…” Eris went on, “Teach me how to be the boyfriend you deserve. Your heart is safe with me.”

Azriel’s throat bobbed, and the shadowsinger pressed his forehead against Eris’s. “You don’t need any teaching, Eris. I don’t need you to be any different from what you have been until now. I like you the way you are. And I know you won’t hurt me, otherwise I’d have left a long time ago.”

Eris gulped, taking in those intense hazel eyes so up close. He liked the way he was… It was so different from before, so different from Eddar asking Eris to shape himself around his needs...

“I’ll never hurt you, not intentionally,” he told Azriel. “If I do, tell me. Anything we disagree, we talk about it. Anything that bothers us, we talk about it.”

Azriel nodded, cupping both of Eris’s cheeks, folding his wings around them to block peeking eyes. “I won’t hurt you, either. I don’t deserve someone like you, but I’ll do everything I can to be worthy of you.”

“Because I am a High Lord?” Eris couldn't help but ask, just to be sure.

Azriel’s mouth brushed Eris’s as he answered, “Because you are you. Because of who you are, not what you are. I'm not interested in your title, nor in gaining anything from the Autumn Court. I just want you, Eris. I want the person I came to know these months. I want my friend, my lover, my annoyingly infuriating Pumpkin.”

And then Azriel took his mouth in his. Eris felt that tender kiss reach his soul. Azriel kissing him felt like nestling in a cozy nook by the fire, like eating something sweet and then feeling flavors explode in his mouth. How come Azriel didn’t think he was deserving? They would need to change that mindset. Eris wasn’t expecting that night to end like this, but he wasn’t complaining. He had a boyfriend now. This time, he would make it work. He and Azriel could make it work together.

As their lips parted, Eris smiled at him, letting Azriel see how happy he was. Music stopped, and the musicians warmed up for the next valse. Looking around, that idea came back to Eris's mind. He arched a brow at Azriel, a smirk curling on his lips, and he laughed as Azriel got the message.

“Here we go…” The shadowsinger murmured to himself.

[Song: POV - Strings from Paris]

Eris untangled their fingers, and standing before Azriel, he bowed, a hand over his heart, the other extended to the Illyrian, as he had done at their apartment in the Dawn Court. Just that, this time, they were in public. This time, the Autumn High Lord would let the world know of his relationship. It was time for Azriel to come out of the shadows. And at this ball, Eris would indeed, for the very first time, dance with someone he loved.

Eris was sure his ex would never do what he was about to do with Azriel. That exposed too much. And Eris honestly didn’t care. He was the High Lord, and he had sacrificed enough. He was allowed to be happy and still care for his Court. He was tired of caring about what or who was “proper” or “suited” for someone like him, in his position. It was his life, his happiness. And this male before him was all he wanted.

“Would you give me the honor of this dance?”

Azriel’s eyes widened, darting around as if unsure of attracting attention. Eris knew he didn't like to be stared at, that it bothered the shadowsinger how people looked at him with wariness. But Eris wanted him to let go of that and stand by his side proudly. Azriel needed to know he wasn’t frightening.

“You already stand out, love,” Eris remarked, and Azriel flushed at the way he called him. Oh, Eris would make him blush plenty later. “Don't mind them. Let's show the world how it can be. Let us break some more rules together.”

Azriel's eyes flickered with an unspoken emotion, and then the shadowsinger was taking his hand. Eris led him to the ballroom, noticing people gasping at them, drifting away. They ignored the attention they were drawing, ignored who might be watching. Eris was sure they would be the gossip of the night.

Eris shuddered as he circled Azriel's waist with an arm, then joined their palms on the right side as they started swinging through the dance floor. The contact sent sparks down Eris’s spine, and he threw himself into that valse. It felt right. This was how it should be. From the few events he’s seen Azriel attend in the past, Eris knew the male danced well, knew how to lead a female. It surprised him that the shadowsinger easily switched to the other end, letting Eris lead the dance.

“You're a natural at this,” The High Lord commented, quite pleased.

“Lots of practice with Cassian,” Azriel retorted, rolling his eyes. He’d decided to focus on Eris instead of the people whispering around them. “He needed someone to help him to surprise Nesta, so I ended up being his partner when Mor wasn't available.”

Eris smirked. “Good thing I can profit from it, then,” he said, spinning Azriel, then catching him in his arms again. “I'd never danced with a male before.”

“You'd better get used to it, then. I'm your official partner now.” Azriel winked at him, and Eris’s stomach flipped over itself to process that this handsome male in his arms was his boyfriend. He wouldn't be able to sleep that night with all that happiness. His chest felt like it wasn't large enough to contain it. “I'll lead you through the next, Pumpkin,” Azriel declared.

Eris just smiled, content to follow Azriel as a calm, romantic ballad started playing. Eris allowed himself to lay his cheek on Azriel's chest, folding around his body as they swayed slowly. At some point, Eris had his arms around the shadowsinger's shoulders, enjoying it too much as Azriel's hands fell to his waist, holding him tenderly. Couples danced around them, but they didn’t pay attention, too involved with each other.

“Can I confess something?” Eris murmured.

“Go on,” Azriel answered, and their cheeks touched against one another.

“I've never felt this happy in my life. Not once. And I'm scared of it… I don't know what to do with such joy…”

Azriel wrapped his arms fully around him, pressing a kiss to Eris's neck. “You feel it. Don't be scared of happiness, Eris. You deserve it. And as you painfully reminded me that I can, even though I don't know how yet, I have every intention of making you very, very happy.”

Eris retreated just enough to look at him. “Do you want me to cry in front of everyone?”

Azriel smiled, and it was like nothing Eris had ever seen. “No. I want to kiss you.”

Eris gaped. “Who are you? Where's the guy who used to say ‘we're in public, don't touch me’?”

Azriel merely shrugged. “It's your doing. I have two options: being a coward and hide myself, leaving you available to others, or being brave enough to step in and claim you for myself. I believe you know which one I'm choosing.”

Eris's eyes darkened. For the Cauldron…

He touched Azriel's nose with his own. “Then kiss me. Claim me as yours, Azriel.”

And so Azriel did.

However, it wasn't what Eris had expected. The shadowsinger, with the utmost care, cupped Eris's neck, the other hand around his waist, and pressed his lips to Eris's forehead, closing his eyes for a moment. Eris felt his eyes burn, his breathing becoming shallow at the public display of affection. This said much more than a kiss on the lips, which could be interpreted as them being just lovers. No, this showed there was true care on Azriel’s part, true feelings.

Eris still felt the ghost of Azriel's lips on his skin when the Illyrian retreated, smiling at him. Azriel chuckled when he noticed Eris's flushed cheeks and flickering eyes.

“I'll kiss you plenty when we get home. That's our private show, I don't want peaky eyes. For now…” Azriel drawled, lowering his head to Eris's ear. “For now, I'm just showing that fucker watching us over there that you're mine. It's his problem if he didn't value what he had; I don't intend to make the same mistake.”

Eris didn't know when his body started shaking. Dancing had suddenly become a struggle. His breath got stuck in his throat, his chest ached, and then tears fell. Azriel was startled as he beheld what was happening and acted fast. He looked around, hiding Eris's face in his chest, and then winnowed them home.

[Song: Life, Luka Sulik]

In the silence of the apartment, Eris fisted Azriel's shirt as he cried, not able to stop the feelings that came out, the pain that Azriel had touched with his words. Eddar would have never done any of that. Had never let Eris touch him in public, never exchanged affectionate gazes, much less assumed anything. Partially because they couldn't risk being discovered, but still…

Even inside four walls, Eddar hadn't treated him like this. Like he was precious and worthy. Like he was glad to have him in his life. Like he wished to make Eris happy. Eddar had painted him a bright future, describing it perfectly for Eris to imagine, but had never done anything on that long list. Azriel hadn't painted a perfect scenario for him. His honesty in sharing that he was also insecure, but willing to try, was more than enough for Eris. Azriel, differently from Eddar, admitted his vulnerability; he let Eris see that he was fractured inside, and still let him in.

Days ago, it had been Eris to hold Azriel while he sobbed. Now, the shadowsinger traveled his hands on Eris's back, soothing him, his wings folding around them in a protective cocoon.

“Why are you crying…?” Azriel asked in a whisper against his ear as one hand cupped the back of his head, calmly as if not to scare him.

“It's your fault…” Eris mumbled, sniffing, his arms wrapping around Azriel's neck tightly. “You crush all my walls with the things you say and do. I don't have the means to defend against you, Azriel…”

Azriel brought his head back, wiping away the tears from Eris's face. “You don't have to defend against me. I don't know what you went through with that jerk, but I already despise him for making you think you need to be so guarded. I'll never twist your feelings and use them against you, Eris. You're safe with me, as I know I'm safe with you.”

More tears escaped, and Eris bit his lower lip to try and make them stop. His eyes lingered on Azriel's beautiful face, in the forest soil on his hazel orbs. His scent of cedar reminded him of lying in the woods while staring at the tree tops swaying with the wind, calming him.

“Stop… saying these things…” he pleaded, but didn't mean his words.

“I won't. Let the walls crumble, Eris. I'll take everything that is on the other side.”

“My chest hurts…” Eris sobbed.

“Then let me help you heal, as you've been helping me with my troubles,” Azriel said, brushing kisses along Eris's face.

“Azriel…” Eris wailed, his hand trailing the shadowsinger's brow, then his black hair. Eris found his mouth, the urgent kiss like the final raw exposure of his vulnerability to Azriel. The shadowsinger held him through the strokes of their tongues, setting the pace, firm and steady. Everything Eris launched in that kiss, every hurtful sob he pressed against Azriel's lips, Azriel took it all, devouring his pain, meeting Eris's intensity. His strong embrace and the way he held Eris's head to go deeper made the High Lord forget about everything else.

Once they pulled away, huffing against each other's mouths, Eris's hands running on Azriel's face, there was just one thing Eris wished to say now. Only one thing that might be enough to convey what he felt. Reason might warn him he should wait more, but Eris decided he wasn't letting normal standards dictate how he should live his relationship. It wasn't too soon for him. It was just how he felt. He hadn't needed years to fall for Azriel. The connection they shared had somehow been built on a foundation of months. It wasn't something to be explained with logic, just felt and embraced, as Azriel had said.

And what Azriel offered him was more than enough to move forward. Eris then gathered his courage to say what he'd only offered to one person in the past, someone who had crushed it under his boots. Eris opened his heart for that feeling again, hoping that this time, he’d made the right decision.

Staring into Azriel's eyes, the Autumn High Lord said through trembling lips, “I'm in love with you.”

Azriel's eyes widened, and Eris felt the shadowsinger's pulse race under his palms once they fell on his neck. Azriel's mouth opened and closed a few times, as if he didn't have words to reply, or couldn't find them. Silver lined his gaze, and Azriel touched their foreheads, taking in a sharp breath as a shy, tentative smile filled his lips.

“I thought it was too soon to say it… That I might be crazy and needy, but fuck, Eris…” Tears also rolled down Azriel's cheeks, and he smiled as he cupped Eris's face between his hands. “I love you. I can't stay away from you. I don't even recognize myself anymore. I want you so badly that I'm scared I won't be able to recover if you leave me.”

The exposure of that truth lingered with the old hurt inside them. Eris understood why Azriel was afraid of loving someone, and his admitting his fear while also displaying his feelings bare to him... Eris's arms wrapped around Azriel, taking all of him, embracing what the shadowsinger offered.

“I won't.” Eris was sure thunder cracked through his veins, heating his blood. There was only certainty in Eris's eyes, fire crackling in his orbs. “But don't think like that. You'll rise again if this doesn't reach a happy ending, which is not going to happen,” Eris stated firmly, his words coming back to him, as well as his determination.

Azriel loved him… He was beyond himself right now. Their bodies were tightly pressed against each other, Azriel's hands still on Eris's cheeks as if to reassure himself that he was real.

“I want you as badly," Eris went on. "I want you to be mine, but you are free to go if this doesn’t make sense to you one day, Azriel. I’ll fight like hell for you, unless you tell me that’s not what you want anymore. You say no, and I’ll respect your wishes.”

Eris had to make sure he knew this wasn't a caging relationship. That Azriel was free to come and go, and that Eris had no intention of controlling or suffocating him. He knew what that was like, and it was important to him to make that clear.

“This is not a cage, not for me, not for you," Eris uttered, traveling his hands on the shadowsinger's back in reassurance. "I’m choosing to stay because I want you by my side, because my life is brighter with you in it.” Azriel’s throat bobbed as he listened, understanding glinting in his eyes. “If you wish to stay, then stay with me, Azriel. Let us find our way together in this world.”

Azriel’s tears streaked down his face, as if Eris’s words had been like a blow to him. As if they were indeed what he needed to hear. Reaching closer, Azriel brushed his lips against Eris’s, breathing in deeply, taking in Eris’s scent. “I want to stay with you. I want to live, Eris, and you show me I can. You make me feel… fuck, you make me feel everything. Bad and good. And you make me want to dive into things, to overcome my fears.” A smile brighter than any other he’d shown Eris now danced on Azriel’s face. “It’s good to know you’ll fight for me, because I surely as fuck won’t let you go.”

Eris's legs wobbled as he pressed kisses to Azriel's face, and his heart now felt like flowers were sprouting everywhere. Those words… They touched him deeply, that part of his soul that wanted to give love, to inspire others to be better. To know that he could be that for the person he loved… Since that first talk, honesty had been how they'd agreed on moving forward. And that foundation had led them here, to this moment. To a love that felt safe and comforting. To a love that was supportive and attentive.

“I love you…” Eris whispered, and as their mouths met in another kiss, there was only certainty that they could make this work, with patience and shelter for each other's pain to heal and bloom into something new.

The kiss that started as a gentle caress suddenly became fiery need, and then they were peeling off each other's clothes, running hands over heated skin, tangling their bodies in the bed as they made love that night. Now that love lingered between them, each touch, each kiss, each thrust in their joining felt more intense, as if the mere realization of whom they were making love to was enough to bring early release.

Eris lost count of how many times he reached pleasure that night, unaware it was possible to come so hard with simple kisses on his back, with just being inside Azriel while staring into his eyes. Lovemaking that night hadn't actually had anything new in terms of what they had already done. And yet, it felt completely different as their bodies moved together. It felt as if a song played between their souls, warm light shining in their hearts.

As they stared at each other before sleep, arms wrapped and legs tangled, as Eris felt the shadowsinger's hand brushing his head, that song still played around them. Eris hoped Azriel could listen to it, too. It was the most beautiful song he'd ever heard. Moments later, with his face pressed on the shadowsinger’s chest, Eris found out that not only had Azriel heard it, but he hummed it as a lullaby, eyes closed in calm appreciation. Eris drifted into sleep under the vibration of Azriel's voice, brushing him like a caress, landing on that fogged dream again.

This time, the three figures weren't so misty. This time, he saw himself from behind, his hair long once more. Walking beside him was a winged male, five inches taller. The bat wings were unmistakable. And between them, linking their hands, swaying and laughing... was a child. Winged, too, but still blurred.

“Dad!”

The vivid sound of that word, of that laugh, echoed in his mind for a long, long time.

Chapter Text

Mornings had become the sweetest thing.

As Eris opened his eyes, there was hair tickling his nose, and a heavy weight on his chest. The Autumn High Lord smiled at his boyfriend, sleeping curled over him, as he did most days. The furs covered most of him, and it was the cutest thing to watch Azriel’s sleepy face as the shadowsinger blinked a few times to chase sleep away, then looked up at him.

Eris turned Azriel over, startling the Illyrian as he wrapped his arms around Azriel’s neck, making the furs tuck at their legs. Azriel embraced him when Eris lay his head on him instead, assuming the position the shadowsinger had fallen asleep into.

“When will you let me wake up like this, hm? I’m pretty sure that’s how it started last night,” Eris protested.

He felt Azriel’s mouth curling into a smile atop his head. “Sorry. I tried to stay in the same position, but you’re too comfortable to sleep over, so…” He shrugged, not a hint of guilt in his tone.

Eris’s heart warmed at that. He complained just to tease; he didn’t really mind that Azriel always ended up over him. He liked having his arms around his boyfriend like that, protecting him. He sustained himself on his elbows to look at Azriel. “I was thinking about something.”

“Shocker,” Azriel teased, pillowing his head with his arms, accentuating the muscles there. Eris smiled and didn’t hide how his eyes traveled on the shadowsinger’s skin, on his tattoos. Then he was nestling over Azriel’s chest, leaning his head on his folded arms.

“I was thinking that, although we’ve asked each other out officially, I know so little about you. I ended up skipping to the good part, but I’d like us to talk more now that you’re mine.” Eris smiled as he noticed Azriel’s flushed cheeks at his last sentence. “So we’d better get started because there are a great deal of things I need to tell you about me for this to work.”

Azriel caressed his face gently. “We’ve been dating for a few days, and you seem like you want to plan for years ahead. Relax a bit, Pumpkin. Why the rush?”

“It’s not a rush, I just want to—”

“You sometimes talk as if we are in a business meeting, babe,” Azriel commented, pressing a finger on Eris’s lips, but his eyes were calm, merely stating a fact. “You told me you’ve planned the whole year for your court, as you’ve planned part of the trips. I know planning is essential to you, Eris, but you don't need a strategy for our relationship. I agree with you that we need to get to know each other better, and I’ll offer you openness and honesty, always. But some things need time to be shared. We can learn what we need little by little.”

Eris averted his eyes, shame clutching at his heart for some reason. Azriel’s tone was kind, but he felt like being called out, like he’d made a mistake.

“I’m sorry, I just want to make sure you’re not caught off guard, that you know things beforehand, so you know what to expect. I don’t want to upset you with things I might do that you don’t like.”

Azriel’s brows knitted as if in confusion. “You sound like you’re afraid to upset me. Why?”

Eris felt a cold coil in his stomach, but before he could muster an answer, the shadowsinger brought his face back to look at him.

“That prick did a number on you, hm?” Azriel sighed, and there was anger in his eyes as he studied Eris, trailing his fingers on his hair. “You didn’t care about upsetting me when we started hanging out, so why is it an issue for you now?

“That was before I fell in love with you. I—”

“You can upset me, Eris, and I will still be here with you,” Azriel stated. “You don’t need to walk on eggshells around me. You can make mistakes, I’m not going to scold you or use your failings against you.” And as if reading the emotion in his eyes, the shadowsinger added, “Even when you do something wrong, there's nothing to be ashamed of.”

Eris shivered when Azriel got closer, holding his head firmly, his eyes intense and determined.

“I don’t know what sort of manipulative shit your ex did with you, but that’s not okay. Everyone makes mistakes, so keep this in mind: you don’t need to know everything about me in advance to plan how to act. You don’t need to make plan A, B, or C when it comes to me. I’m your partner, not your opponent. I don’t want you to be perfect, or to please me all the time, for fear of my leaving you, or to protect yourself against me. I don’t want you to pamper me to make sure I’ll stick around, Pumpkin. As a matter of fact, although it pisses me off, it also turns me on when you defy me.”

Eris chuckled. “I’ll make sure to use that to my advantage later.”

He sighed, letting Azriel see his insecurity. He had slipped into that old pattern, and realizing it was frustrating. It seemed he wasn’t as healed from his past relationship as he thought he was.

“I know you are right, but it triggers my anxiety not to know where I’m stepping into…” Eris confessed. “Planning was the only way I had to defend myself, not only in my father’s court, but to keep the relationship stable. Pleasing Eddar was… the way I had to maintain it… peaceful. And to have someone who understood me by my side.”

“I understand,” Azriel replied, his hands gently trailing his cheeks. “I’m not asking you to stop doing what makes you feel safe. I’m just saying that I am choosing to stay and do my part to make things work with you. If you need to plan, then plan with me on your side of the board. I want to be your support, not something you need to be wary of. I won’t leave you because of a misunderstanding. I’m always on your side, no matter what happens. I won’t turn my back on you if we fight, seek some petty revenge, ghost you, or give you the cold shoulder. I did it once, and I hated myself for it, so I promise I won't run away anymore. We’ll fight and then fuck to make peace. The sex we had that day after Rita’s was awesome.”

Azriel winked, a wicked smile filling his lips. Eris snorted, shaking his head. The fist clenched around his chest loosened, and Eris let out a breath of relief. Indeed, planning too much was exhaustive, which was why he was taking this vacation. And even then, letting go of his way of functioning was hard. But he could try. To take one step after another and trust Azriel would indeed always be there for him.

“And one more thing, just to make sure,” Azriel continued, pressing a kiss to Eris’s forehead. “You don’t need to do things for me to prove you love me or something. I appreciate you taking care of me. Cauldron, no one has ever taken care of me like that, but I want to make it clear that this is not why I love you. It’s not a service-based feeling. You want to do something for me? That’s fine. You don’t want to do anything someday? That’s fine, too. I like being with you; that is enough to make me happy. You are very attentive, but I’m worried that you'll exhaust yourself thinking that’s the condition for me to keep loving you. There’s no condition. I’m just giving it to you, no things expected.”

Eris’s heart raced, his lips pressing together as he stared at Azriel. How had he picked up on so many things about him already? His words pierced deep into him, in a good way. He didn’t know what to make of that, of love being given to him for free, without him having to prove himself. Eris wasn’t sure if he knew how to love someone without doing acts of service, but perhaps that wasn’t the issue. He could still do those things. Azriel only didn’t want him to feel obliged to it on the days he felt too tired, and to make sure Eris knew that love would still be there, acts of service or not. What he offered was heartbreaking and soul-healing at the same time.

“As I said…” Eris gulped, “I have no means to defend against the things you say, love. I can’t believe you’ve never dated anyone; you surely don’t act like it.”

“I haven’t dated, but I’ve imagined it. Imagining did me no harm, so I got myself thinking about plenty of things, even though I didn’t think I’d actually pursue a feeling actively like this.”

“You don’t exist, seriously,” Eris murmured, his mouth brushing Azriel’s, letting his scent calm him.

“I think you’re just not used to being treated the way you deserve,” Azriel stated, giving him pecks on the lips, making Eris purr in appreciation. “I want you to tell me everything that jerk did to you so I'll show you what it should be like.”

“I will.”

“Good. Now, what are the plans for the day, hm?”

Eris chuckled. “I can rip off my list.”

“You made a list?” Azriel’s eyes widened, and Eris gave him a yellow smile.

“Yes…?”

The shadowsinger laughed, pulling Eris in for a kiss. “Well, since you already made it… What are we to do?”

Eris grinned. “Wait here.”

He rushed out of bed, opening the wardrobe to grab the small box he’d secretly acquired a few days ago. He brought the carefully wrapped package out, then handed it to Azriel. The shadowsinger’s curious eyes already made it worth giving him a gift, more so when he tore the blue wrapping and pulled out the object inside. The large smile Azriel opened did funny things to Eris’s chest, and his heart warmed at seeing him happy.

Azriel looked at him, eyes sparking with joy. “You really got me one.”

Eris walked closer, standing by Azriel’s side. He cupped the shadowsinger’s cheeks and kissed him, then rested his hands on his boyfriend’s shoulders. Pleasing Azriel was different. There was some sort of pure appreciation in the shadowsinger at Eris’s demonstrations of affection, as if he’d never had such things in life, as if it was so rare that Azriel wanted to treasure it. Eris’s heart beamed at his happiness, and he understood something.

The acts of service he’d done for Eddar, at some point, had become a necessity, the only way he had to keep the male around, to prove that he was a good choice of boyfriend among the sea of people Eddar knew. Eddar had profited from it, noticing his willingness to please since the beginning, and wielding it as a bargaining tool with Eris. The acts of service he did for Azriel came from somewhere deeper inside him. He didn’t do that because he was afraid of losing him, nor to prove himself, as the shadowsinger guessed. No, he took care of him because he wanted to. He cooked for him because Azriel’s delighted face while eating his food was heart-warming. He wanted to gift him things because Azriel’s eyes sparked with excitement, such as now. It simply made him happy.

“Of course I did, you wanted it so much. And… It serves our schedule today,” Eris declared, pleased by the curiosity again in Azriel’s gaze. “We’re going our separate ways today to trap music. Like a treasure hunt,” he explained. “Then we’ll gather here at night to share what we got.”

“Sounds like fun to me,” Azriel smiled. Yes, Eris knew how much he enjoyed games. But Azriel had no idea what the High Lord intended to do while he was away. “Are there rules? A prize?”

Eris laughed. “For someone telling me not to plan, you’re really invested in making me do the opposite.”

Azriel set his newly acquired symphodisk aside and wrapped his arms around Eris, resting his cheek on his chest. “But it’s not fair, you know my weakness. And you’re… creative when it comes to competitions…”

Eris speared his fingers in Azriel’s hair, kissing the top of his head. “Let’s do something cool with my planning skills, then. The rules are a ten-song limit. Each different instrument scores one point, each different Court it comes from scores one point, and… If it’s your original composition, it scores five points.”

“Original composition? Hey, but I don’t play any instrument, that’s cheating,” Azriel protested.

Eris snorted, making him look up at him. “No, but you can sing. That counts, too.”

Azriel’s eyes lingered on him for a while. Eris didn’t know what that look meant. “Is this your way to make me sing to you? And how did you know?” He asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Eris replied, one of his brows raising. “You’re a shadow singer. Plus, I heard you humming the other night. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to sing. I’ll score five more points easily.”

Azriel pulled him to sit on his lap, his hazel orbs flickering with challenge. He smirked. “So let’s have breakfast, High Lord, and I’ll see you tonight.”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

An hour later, Azriel landed in the middle of a snow-covered forest as he decided on a strategy to trap the ten songs of Eris’s challenge. He was happy beyond reason since they’d started dating, even though the road ahead was going to be long and deep. That morning had hinted at something vital to him, and so had the night they’d confessed their feelings.

The shadowsinger had been stunned when Eris started crying, more so with the things he’d revealed. He had suspected that Eris might have gone through some tough shit with his father. His kindness, the way he was ever so attentive and caring, the way he understood Azriel’s pain and embraced it… Those weren’t things one would do without having gone through harshness themselves. And there seemed to be more to it. Learning he’d had an ex, and observing Eris’s behavior, it hadn’t been difficult for Azriel to put two and two together.

That male knew Eris was kind and had exploited it to his twisted gain. He had made Eris feel so insecure that the redhead had fucking cried at his words of reassurance, at his promise to give him the bare minimum. He wondered if Eris’s reaction regarding the mark on his neck had something to do with Eddar as well, and how much of his self-esteem had been mined by a self-centered male. If the guy showed up again, Azriel wouldn’t keep it down.

Azriel got himself lost in thought as to how life had been for Eris until now. What it was like for him to rule a court that, up until his ascension to power, was nothing more than a nest of vipers. The shadowsinger knew that through the spies he had used in Autumn. It made his chest ache to think that, just like him, Eris might have felt so alone. And being alone and suffering might have led Eris to accept any scraps of affection from anyone willing to see him beyond his title. Perhaps Eris had always been sweet and gentle, but had to hide it in order to survive in a dangerous place.

Honestly, he didn’t know how Eris had turned out to be the person he was, considering how he’d been raised. Azriel wanted to do something for him, to give Eris the support he needed. He didn't know how he'd start, but he let instinct guide him. Today, he would take the chance to surprise his boyfriend with something they both loved. As a Spymaster, he knew countless places where he could get good songs, but maybe…

His cheeks flushed against his will. Azriel had never sung for others to hear. It was embarrassing, and he didn’t think his voice was that great, but thinking about the glint in Eris’s eyes, the curiosity and hope in his gaze… He could try trapping one song for him. Only because he loved Eris. Azriel covered his face with his palm, his blood heating at merely thinking about that. He had said that so easily to Eris that it stunned him up until now how he’d been able to do so with such certainty. Mere months by Eris's side, and he had fallen for him like he hadn't for anyone else. Had admitted he loved him, and had bloomed when he had found out his feelings were returned. The fact that Eris loved him was as unthinkable as it was a relief. It was a treasure, really, to have a person like him in his life. And Azriel would cherish it, protect this feeling at all costs.

He hadn’t thought they would move on this quickly, but fuck, how glad he was it did. This burst of life inside him, he wanted to take that as an impulse back to who he was, and who he wanted to be. Why wait to be sure of whatever confirmation of something when he had been single for centuries already? Life happens where we are, with the people we surround ourselves with.

And speaking of people…

“Azriel,” a dark, elegant voice brushed his thoughts. “Are you in Winter?”

“Yes,” he replied. “Did something happen?”

A low chuckle sounded on the other side. “Oh, indeed, something happened. With you, it seems,” his brother drawled. “We got the news this morning from a certain Ball in one of Kallias’s palaces. Don’t you have anything to share with your friends?”

Azriel tsked. What nosy people… “You can’t live without gossip, can you? Busybodies.” He allowed his lips to curl up slightly, his voice coming out light, warm even. Rhysand paused on the other end, his darkness halting as if to make sure he’d felt it right.

“Well, I’m not one to pry into others’ lives, but…” Yeah, sure. What a liar. “I just can’t believe it. You have never introduced any of your lovers to us, and then I hear, out of the blue, that the High Lord of Autumn was seen at a Ball dancing with a winged male, who happened to be you? At first, I thought those people might be insane, but as I recall Cassian telling me about you and Eris hanging out in Velaris…”

“So what?” Azriel retorted in annoyance. He wanted to punch Cassian for having such a big mouth.

“You’re really dating Eris, then?” His brother asked, and Azriel noticed his hitched breath, as if indeed perplexed by his answer.

“I am.” And it was all he would share, because a sliver of information always led to five more questions from his friend. It was a good thing they’d assumed their relationship away from the Night Court, since Azriel’s last tries had had interference.

“Have you considered the fact that he is the Autumn High Lord? The complications you might face?” Rhysand inquired. Ah, there he went again. It pissed Azriel off that his brother felt like peeking into his private life, and the unsolicited advice that would come.

“Oh, for Cauldron’s sake, stop that! I'm not a brainless child who needs to be watched over all the time! That’s for me to deal with; no need to concern yourself. And Rhys,” Azriel paused, for the first time gathering courage to say what was truly in his heart. “Don’t meddle in my relationship, like you did in the past. I don’t tell things to you guys precisely because I know what you tend to do. I don’t need you to help me solve my problems, to protect me, or to restrict me from doing what you think is bad for me. I can handle the outcomes of my decisions. I only need you guys to be there, that’s all. I’ll seek advice if I need to, not when you feel like giving it to me. Understand?”

He'd never been this blunt, not when it was about personal matters. In the past, he would just ignore, cut off, or mumble a one-word reply when his friends wanted him to open up. Silence lingered for a moment, and Azriel wondered if he’d gone too far with his High Lord. But then, Rhysand roared in laughter.

“Alright. I appreciate the honesty. Give Eris my regards. Tell him we welcome him into the family if you ever want to bring him officially someday. And also... give him my thanks. For bringing my friend back. We all miss you, you know.”

Well, if that didn’t crush him… He knew that, but now, after some time apart, after opening up to new experiences... Azriel felt different about his friends, too. Azriel gulped, proud of himself for setting the limit, but also… for things going back to normal, at least a bit. He hadn’t stood up against Rhys often, but his friends needed to understand that he wasn’t some broken thing needing to be cuddled. He just had his own pace to do things.

“I will. I miss you, too, motherfucker.” And he smiled sincerely.

“Let me know if you need anything.” Rhysand vanished with a goodbye, and Azriel couldn’t explain why the world seemed more colorful and vibrant, why his life seemed brighter, and even his future seemed to have some hope. Everything appeared to beckon to him, as if saying, Come, live!

His mind wandered to his talk with Eris that morning. He’d asked his boyfriend not to plan so far ahead, but in truth… he was scared of dreaming too much, too high. Azriel was scared of the fall, even though he could think of no reason to fear that with Eris. Azriel hadn’t thought past the point of entering a relationship in the past. He would feed the flames of passion for someone who wouldn’t return his feelings, and then dream of various possible scenarios in which the first kiss might happen, the first night. But he hadn’t gone past that.

Now, he would have to learn how to, because backing up wasn’t an option. It was facing his fear, or losing Eris, and hell would he let that happen. He had found someone he was comfortable with opening up to, with exposing his vulnerabilities. For him, nothing had been scarier than that. Azriel wasn't afraid of throwing himself into the dangers of battle, of impossible missions, or the trickery of the Courts. But feelings were a different matter. And yet, he had found someone who had made him wish to overcome that scary thing, opening up his heart.

Eris had seen past him since the beginning and had never balked nor diminished him. Eris had stayed and insisted, even when Azriel had acted like a jerk. The shadowsinger didn’t need any more proof that it was him he wanted. And Eris had made it clear that he didn’t intend to control him. That the decision to stay was his, and in fact, Azriel had always felt free to do as he pleased around him.

But still, was he too greedy to think higher than dating him? They would still talk about the High Lord thing and all, because surely, there would be expectations. There would be prejudice and opposition. This thing they had now was wonderful, but it was still a vacation. They needed to know how things would be once Eris went back to Autumn, and Azriel back to the Night Court. But did he want to go back?

A part of him wanted to enjoy the fact that, finally, after five centuries, he had his first relationship, and a healthy one. He wanted to spoil his boyfriend and do those cute things he thought about, but told absolutely no one. He’d secretly kept that side of him from his friends, too. But giving it some thought now, Azriel totally understood Eris’s need to plan regarding their situation. It wasn’t fair of him to be selfish and not consider that he wasn't just dating a random guy. No. His boyfriend was the High Lord. It was different for him, and that might have been the reason why Eris was all worried this morning.

He needed to sort out his thoughts. With the sudden certainty he could give Eris what he needed, Azriel shot to the skies. He would use the day to muse on those matters. It wasn’t okay to let Eris feel anxious or afraid to ask him about the formalities of the Courts. And if Azriel wanted his boyfriend to see him as a partner in crime, someone on his side of the board, he'd better make up his mind.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The afternoon would end in about an hour, and Azriel hadn’t gathered all he needed yet. He was currently in the Summer Court, one of the courts he knew relatively better, walking around a medium-sized town named Zuria. The city was built around the bay, and the simple design of the houses, all in white brick walls and terracotta roofs, was comforting.

Zuria was a place Azriel liked to come to when he needed some peace, a place beautifully rebuilt after the war. Vines and flowers sprouted around the city walls, trees had been planted, and the beach had become a tourist point now, full of small businesses and street artists. He should come here with Eris someday.

Azriel smiled to himself. His chest warmed at the thought of having someone to share these things, someone to kiss as celebrations went by, someone to enjoy the festivities with. He was most anxious to watch the Autumn Equinox in a few months, especially now that he was dating the main attraction of it… He also felt excited about bringing Eris to Velaris during the next starfall. The High Lord had never attended, even though Rhys had invited him for the last two years.

He caught himself in the act and sighed. So much for not thinking so far ahead…

Well, fuck off, he scolded that voice. He’d never had a boyfriend, okay? Leave him be.

Azriel stopped when he saw a group of musicians playing by the shore. The blue uniforms and the bows strapped to their backs suggested they were guards or sentinels. Their joy was palpable with the way they clapped hands and played flutes while two of the males danced, linking elbows and spinning around. Both of them had pale skin, but the taller one was blond, his long hair reaching his waist; the other had short white hair, and a smile so bright Azriel could see it from a distance.

They stopped once the song ended, laughing and clasping their colleagues’ shoulders. The two males then intertwined their fingers, and Azriel’s lips curled up slightly. It was good to see people free to love in a peaceful world. Good. Not bad, not revolting. It was still unfair that his mother couldn’t experience it, but many others who had fought for it now had the chance to enjoy this kind of life. Azriel had hidden in his own darkness for the years that followed, exchanging the days for the nights, not allowing himself to see what life could be like in a world at peace. And for the first time after the war, after all the battles he’d gone through, Azriel saw the peace for what it really was.

A blessing.

For everyone, including himself.

In this new world, so bloodied fought for, people like him, like Eris, perhaps like the two males dancing, would be able to finally be themselves. To heal and to find a purpose. To find something new and special to protect and care for. And also for the first time, Azriel let himself think he had a part in it. He didn’t let his thoughts of himself as tainted and corrupted by the things he’d done stop him from wanting to be a part of this new world.

Two months ago, he was isolating, seeking to detach himself from others, from his past, from everything. Two months ago, he’d been lost in turmoil, envious of everyone who was moving forward while he didn’t know how to get out of the pit he’d thrown himself into. And two months ago, he’d met, or met again, the most unlikely person, someone who would turn his world upside down and make him like it. Someone who would reach out a hand for him.

Ever since then, Azriel felt himself change with the passing of days, slowly diving back into the person he used to be in his youth, but also into his true self. It was like rediscovering what he liked about himself, what was special about him, the things his mother always told him. He had drowned in self-pity and hopelessness, unable to live inside his own body at some point. Fighting and random sex had been almost like a punishment to make him feel things, but not necessarily good ones. They were a reminder of how despicable he'd become, a reminder that he didn't deserve happiness.

Then Eris, in his randomness of traveling for a year, had come along. Had awakened beauty in him again. Had made him learn to communicate, and showed him it was okay to go after what he wanted. That he shouldn't feel guilty for being happy.

Two months ago, Azriel had been scared of love, of giving himself to someone. He had believed no one would love him back. Yet now he felt so loved that he didn't even know how to deal with this feeling. So much had changed… He was still scared, but knowing he had someone to return to at the end of the day, someone who offered him so much…

His chest warmed and ached at the same time. He already missed Eris. He wanted to see him, kiss him, make love to him. He wanted to watch the night sky with him as they shared stories, wanted to get tucked with him into furry blankets and hug him all night, to sleep against his warm chest and feel safe, feel alive.

That warmth stayed with him as he watched the guards dispersing, waving at each other goodbye. Azriel slowly walked to the sand, sitting on it and bending his knees against his chest. He studied the colors of the sky changing, and then, a melody he’d heard Eris play on the cello came to his mind.

[Song: The sound of silence, Boyce Avenue Version]

Words started forming, giving life to verses, and when he least expected it, he was voicing his deepest thoughts, touching the darkness silently lurking beneath his skin year after year. He let it out, allowed it to just be. He voiced what he’d kept to himself in the past, the silent conversations he’d have with himself in the darkness about all that was wrong in the world.

When he finished, he looked to the side, only to find those two males from before staring at him with smiles. They were nestled on the sand, postures relaxed, appreciating the song.

“Teach us the lyrics, I can sing, and he plays the guitar,” said the white-haired male, his gray eyes shining with expectation.

Just like that.

Azriel was embarrassed for a moment, but then… why not? He didn't give it much thought, didn't allow himself to reconsider.

“Alright,” he agreed.

People never approached him, out of fear or wariness. Those two, though, didn’t seem the tiniest bit scared. And so Azriel was writing down the words of the song he’d just come up with. He decided this was going to be his gift to Eris tonight, and turned on the symphodisk.

It was like nothing he’d done before. As the white-haired male joined him in singing, his partner followed, snatching a guitar out of thin air like Eris did with his cello. They were good, very good. People gathered around to listen, and Azriel barely noticed when his lips spread in a smile, singing and singing like there was nothing more important than this melody, than getting words out of his soul.

Clappings were heard all around, whistles and cheers, and the three males shared complicit smiles. The white-haired male extended a hand to him, and Azriel grabbed it.

“Little late for that, but nice to meet you! I’m Aven,” he saluted, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he grinned. “This is Andras, my mate.”

“The pleasure is mine. I’m Azriel,” he replied, shaking hands with the blond, Andras.

“Night Court, I take it?” Andras said, and the shadowsinger nodded. “I hail from Spring, Aven is from Winter, now we’re serving the Summer Court. There’s only Autumn left of the seasonal courts,” he joked.

“My… boyfriend is from Autumn. He’d be delighted to show you around, I’m sure,” Azriel said, smiling as he thought of Eris, of how nice it felt to name their relationship to others.

“That’d be nice,” Aven pondered. “I’ve never seen you around. You guys passing by in Summer?”

“I live in Velaris, but my partner decided to travel for a while, so we’ve been exploring places. I came here alone today, but he wanted to be here for the Midsummer festival.”

“Oh, you’ll love it here. There’s a ritual we do every year by the sea, one of my favorite things about this Court. We’re at your call, should you want company or a guide!” Aven declared, and Azriel nodded, silently shocked with himself for talking so naturally with new people. But he liked the vibe of the males.

“Thank you. I’ll tell him once I get home. It was nice to sing with you.”

“City guard,” Aven winked, linking his elbow with his mate’s, and waved a hand in goodbye as they turned around and departed. The shadowsinger then rose to his feet, tapping his ass to remove the sand, and looked at the horizon. The sun had just painted the waters with its last ray of light, and faint stars sprinkled in the sky.

Azriel closed his eyes, a soft smile on his lips as he felt the ocean breeze kiss his face, blowing his hair back. What a nice day he’d had. And it wasn’t the end yet, for Eris was waiting for him back home. He didn’t look back when he lunged to the sky in a powerful flap; otherwise, he would’ve seen a small figure studying him from a distance. He might have seen the wings and the hazel eyes, the fiery hair, as that silhouette, hidden atop a roof, watched him until he disappeared from view.

Chapter Text

The apartment was dark when Azriel landed on the balcony. As he headed inside, there was a piece of paper on the bed. He snatched it and ran his eyes quickly over it.

Take a nice bath and put on some comfortable clothes, love.

Follow the path I lit into the woods. I’ll be waiting for you at the end of it.

E.

Azriel’s heart pounded faster, his pulse heating. What was he planning? Anxiety rushed through him to see his boyfriend, but he did as he was told. He’d flown the whole day, and staying by the sea for a few hours, he might as well stink at this point. So he drew himself a bath, taking his time to get clean and smell nice so that he could wrap himself around Eris all night. When he finished, he slid into that midnight-blue long-sleeved shirt he’d come to like, and the dark gray pants to match. He knew Eris liked that outfit, and as the final touch, he added silver barbells to the shell of his ears.

He closed the apartment door behind him, rounding the building to reach the place where the forest started. There were flickering flames dancing in the darkness, opening a path throughout the trees. Azriel followed them, and as he passed by the fire, the flames extinguished behind him. There was only walking forward, then. Deeper into the forest he went, up and up over the hill, the scent of pine surrounding him, as well as the sounds of crickets and the rustling of leaves.

As the trail reached the end, Azriel was on the other side of the forest, opening to a wide glade under the starry sky. Under a large oak tree, sitting over a furry blanket splayed on the grass, was Eris, dressed in a comfortable red sweater and black pants. Azriel’s heart jumped in his ribcage as his eyes met the High Lord’s, as he took in the full dinner he’d made them, the flickering flames hanging from the tree branches in small orbs.

“What is all this?” He asked, slowly approaching.

“Come, sit,” Eris called, smiling at him. Azriel obeyed, nestling on the fur and pressing a kiss to Eris’s cheek in greeting. “Hi.”

Azriel took his mouth briefly, caressing his boyfriend’s face. “Hi.”

Eris’s smile was nothing but beyond dazzling as he pulled away to look at Azriel. “I found this place some time ago, when you were away. I wanted to bring you here and ask you to date me, but well, I blew out my own plan,” he shrugged. “Did you have fun today?”

“Lots,” Azriel answered, and Eris’s eyes glinted as he studied him, his lids lowering slightly. “I even made acquaintances today, and got a free tour for the Midsummer festival.”

“Socializing, Cupcake?” Eris teased, caressing his cheek. “I’m proud of you.”

“I have a surprise for you…” Azriel continued, his face heating as he brought the symphodisk out of his pocket. “Want to see now who won?”

“Oh, you won, for sure,” Eris replied, a lazy smile dancing on his lips. “Because I didn’t trap any songs today.”

“What?!” Azriel blurted, a crease between his brows.

Eris snorted, moving to sit across from the shadowsinger, his thigh brushing Azriel’s. “I had some business to attend, so I had to keep you occupied during the day. I have a surprise for you, too.”

“Wicked thing. You made me gather songs for your own entertainment, didn’t you?” Azriel mumbled.

“What better way for you to debut your symphodisk? Now you have something to listen to,” he shrugged. “So, which surprise first?” Eris simply asked, tilting his head to the side.

Azriel shook his head in disbelief. “I’ll go. But not like this, you’re too far.”

Eris’s laugh was like music to his ears. Azriel reclined against the tree and brought the High Lord between his legs, careful not to accidentally kick their dinner on the other end of the cloth. Azriel inserted an earbud into his ear, another into Eris’s, and then he played only that last song. His boyfriend shuddered in his arms, resting his head on Azriel’s shoulder, closing his eyes and smiling as he listened to Azriel singing, adding lyrics to Eris’s composition in that square in Velaris.

“Holy Mother… your voice is…” Eris breathed, looking up at him in wonder. “I didn’t think you’d do it. You sound so happy… If we weren’t already dating, Azriel, I’d ask you out right here, right now,” Eris drawled, one of his hands caressing the curve of the shadowsinger’s neck. “What a gem you are… I’m so lucky.”

Azriel’s heart bloomed with his words, and he kissed Eris’s neck, tightening his arms around him. “You inspired me.”

“The other voice and the guitar were the males you mentioned?” Eris inquired.

“You’d like them,” Azriel commented.

“I’m joining in playing next time,” Eris declared, and Azriel smiled against his skin.

“I’d like that. Hearing you play is always wonderful.”

“How about we try composing a few songs together, or adapting some we’ve heard?” Eris suggested, excitement pouring in his tone as he turned his head back to look at Azriel.

Azriel answered him with a kiss on the mouth. Eris closed his eyes and opened for him, inviting his tongue to play, to lace together in that perfect rhythm only they knew. Azriel dove into his taste, letting his feelings break free, letting that happiness overflow him.

He stared at Eris as they parted, trailing his cheek. “I love you.”

Eris’s eyes blazed with fire. His hand brought a small sack out of his pocket, and Azriel’s breath got stuck in his throat as Eris pulled out two identical chains, one golden, one silver. Attached to each of them was a nail-sized musical note. Without saying a word, Eris flipped them to reveal two tiny words written on the back. Pumpkin, behind the silver chain. Cupcake, behind the golden one.

Azriel pursed his lips as Eris extended his palm, offering him the chains as if asking, ‘Do you accept it? Accept me?’. Azriel took the golden chain and passed it over Eris’s head, watching it adorn his neck. Then, he waited, bending his head for Eris to do the same with the silver one. Without letting go of the chain descending on Azriel’s chest, Eris stared at it, a shy grin curling on his lips.

When their eyes met again, the Autumn High Lord opened that bright, beautiful smile for him, full of delight, and said, “I love you, too.”

.

Dinner flowed lightly. Eris had made roasted chicken this time, and lemon pie for dessert.

“Gods, Eris, how can you cook so well?” Azriel said between mouthfuls of the sweet, unable to eat slowly. “I might need to exercise double if you keep feeding me these things.”

“I can teach you if you want,” the High Lord offered, propping his chin on his hand as he watched Azriel with a delighted gaze. “And I can help you burn the extra fat, too.”

The shadowsinger shivered with that wink; he knew what he meant.

He remembered something, then, and said, “Rhysand reached out today. They heard about the Ball, so I told him the truth.”

Eris studied him, his eyes softening. “You did?”

Azriel smiled and set the plate aside, standing up and offering a hand to Eris. “Walk with me.”

The redhead grabbed it, letting the shadowsinger pull him up. They followed a path into the forest, and a few fireflies surrounded them as they entered the grove.

“I did,” Azriel said in a low voice as they walked, fingers intertwined. “And I’ve never introduced anyone to my friends. But I want them to know this time. I want you to come to every family celebration with me, to watch the next Starfall.”

Eris went silent for some time, as if lost in thought, but his hand tightened around Azriel’s. They reached a field, then, where slivers of moonlight painted the grass with whisps of white. Azriel stared at the open night sky, at the millions of sprinkled stars on the vast darkness that watched him back. He had thought all day about the things he wanted to say to Eris, and now, he needed to share them.

“I—” Eris started speaking after a long sigh, but Azriel turned and enveloped him in a hug.

The embrace was a thank you and a shot at hope. It was relief and excitement, fear and bravery. Azriel cupped the back of his boyfriend’s head as he folded himself around Eris’s body, his chest expanding and retracting with slow, deep breaths. Eris shivered between his arms, his head resting on Azriel’s shoulder as his hands found their nest on the shadowsinger’s waist.

“I thought about what you said this morning, Eris,” Azriel murmured. “I think I got your point. Of course you need to know some stuff; you are the High Lord, and you have a lot on your shoulders. You have greater responsibilities than I do, and I am aware that it weighs more on you than on me the fact that we are together. I know we’ll face trouble with the nobles in the Autumn Court, so that’s also why I told Rhys. They will help should we need anything; you can trust them.”

Eris retreated enough to look at his face. “Thanks, Azriel. That… means a lot. It might be too soon to think about this, but once I go back, what will we do? We won’t see each other as often…”

Azriel trailed his cheek. “Why not?”

“You have your job, and I work a lot, as you’re aware…”

“See, but that’s the thing. We can go on with our lives and return to each other at the end of the day. We can have dinner together and talk about anything, or I can read a book until you fall asleep. I can make you company on the days I’m free, or help you out. It’s not as if I have much to do as a spy now, so… I was thinking about starting something new. In a new place, perhaps.”

Eris’s breath came out ragged, his throat bobbing a few times. “Would you…” He tried, his voice fainting as the High Lord searched for words. “Would you be willing to live in Autumn, someday in the future? I can’t live in Velaris with you—”

“It doesn’t matter to me, honestly,” Azriel said, cupping Eris’s face. “So long as I can see you, so long as you are by my side, it doesn’t matter where we live. If you need to deal with pricks at Court about expectations, I stand by you. I’m sure you can handle politics better than most people I know, but you have back-up, Pumpkin. I’m open to what’s best for both of us.”

“Do you have an obsession with making me cry?” Eris choked, winding his arms around Azriel’s neck.

“You are precious to me,” Azriel said, holding his waist and letting him feel he was serious. “I’d never dated anyone because I wasn’t ready to offer full commitment. I find it hard… not to give it my all. I never pursued anyone more seriously because I knew these talks would come, about marriage, kids, work, and all. I wasn't ready to welcome love into my life, either, not because I didn't want it, but for what I saw my Mom endure with the male who sired me… I thought that if I chose wrong… I don't know why, but in my head, I had to make the right pick and stick to it. Throughout the years, I wasn't really sure it was there for me, for all the cruel things I had to do… That's not something I was able to open up about. And above all that, I wanted to make sure I was with someone who would understand all sides of me and not be scared or judgmental. That's what I feel I have with you. It's… light. And I feel safe to think about a life by your side. I hope you don't think I'm rushing anything, just saying that this is not only random fun I'm having.”

Eris swallowed hard, but then he replied, “I don’t think you’re rushing it. At least, not for me. I used to think that talking about these things meant going too fast with the relationship, but my point is knowing where I’m stepping into, what expectations I can have, so that I can enjoy what we build knowing I’m headed the same way as the one I chose. I know it's a process and that it takes a while to build a solid foundation until we are certain, but it's important to make sure the time invested is leading somewhere in the future. I think we wouldn't be here if we thought this was a waste of effort.”

“Yes, how do I put it… I entered this relationship knowing what it entailed to be with you. Some things still scare me, of course, but… I know you don't have the luxury to just date around and be reckless, so I want to support you. I want to enjoy the present and get to know you, as I said this morning, but I’d like you to know where I stand on formalities. I’ll be okay with your decisions as long as you include me in them. My life has been too complicated already. This, I want it to be simple. To be safe and restful, for both of us.”

The smile Eris opened for him shattered Azriel’s world in starlight. It touched the very core of his body, the song in his soul. The High Lord took a deep breath, his arms still wound around Azriel's neck. He stared up at the sky, watching as the tiny white dots witnessed their happiness.

“For any celestial being that might be hearing,” Eris’s voice erupted, his eyes still fixed on the vastness above them. “Thank you for granting me the chance to meet him.”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The month ended, and so did their time in the Winter Court. With the Midsummer festival coming up, Eris and Azriel had decided to spend a few days in Adriata before heading to Zuria for the celebration.

Eris hadn’t gone much to the Summer Court’s capital, especially because Beron didn’t have such a good relationship with the new High Lord. Too young, too naive, his father used to say. Thinking about it, Tarquin was indeed young compared to Eris, with almost four centuries separating them in terms of age. However, Eris liked the new generation of Fae.

Being idealistic wasn’t necessarily a bad thing once you knew how to build the way up to your goals. During their sporadic meetings over the last years, Eris shared some views with the Summer High Lord, and could understand better than most what it was like to be restrained by a conservative council, full of narrow-minded old butts.

He was to meet with Tarquin that day, at Lucien’s request. His brother was having a tough time in Autumn, it seemed, but had reassured him he didn’t need to come back. Lucien had only asked Eris to close one of the trade deals Eris himself had decided about, and so, it was fair that he dealt with it.

“You sure you don’t want me to come along?” Azriel asked as they arrived in front of the Summer High Lord’s palace.

“It’s mostly boring stuff. And I’ve given you a mission, haven’t I?” Eris replied, stroking the shadowsinger’s hand with his thumb. “I’ll be mentally tired once I’m finished, so be a good boyfriend and plan us a date for tonight.”

Azriel studied him, then his eyes scanned their surroundings, as if he were worried about him. “Something tells me I should come with you.”

“This place is guarded, love,” Eris said softly, running a finger on Azriel’s chin. “Plus, I’m a High Lord. I’m one of the biggest threats here. I doubt anyone would try anything stupid.”

“I know, I just…” Azriel hesitated, resting a hand on Eris’s waist. “My shadows are unsettled.”

Eris considered. “Alright. If I’m not finished in the next two hours and you feel there’s something odd, then come find me.”

The shadowsinger nodded, relief glinting in his gaze. He came forward, pressing a kiss to Eris’s forehead. “Be safe, Pumpkin.”

Eris watched as Azriel trailed his way to the shadows on the corner of the building and, in a blink, he vanished into them. The Autumn High Lord walked into the palace, being guided inside by servants who did not speak to him, silently leading him to Tarquin’s private meeting chamber. Renovations had been added to the palace since the last war, and now the place’s walls glinted with gold and seafoam woven into turquoise blue. Walking along that corridor felt like strolling in the sea, like enjoying the breeze at a calm beach, watching the coming and going of the waves.

As the double doors at the end opened for him, though, his eyes shot to the male sitting across from the Summer High Lord, engaged in an animated conversation. His blood chilled, and his body stiffened as Eddar’s eyes fell on him, taking in his silhouette. The warm smile the Lord opened didn’t reach his eyes, but Eris was sure none of the others in that room would notice.

Eris schooled his features, sliding back into the being he’d mastered to survive those past centuries. He had needed to sit by Eddar’s side, since his ex had come as the Autumn representative. Eris was sure Lucien had no idea about this, yet he couldn’t blame his brother. Managing the court while also keeping track of a male’s whereabouts wasn’t something that should fall on his shoulders.

During the meeting, Eddar, the fucker, had tried to touch his thigh under the table, just like he did in the past, the only “affectionate” gesture he’d ever offered Eris in public. Eris had found it comforting, then, like a soothing caress, when the meetings felt too strained. Now, all it did was irk him.

He’d muttered a ‘get your hand off me’ and cast a shield around himself, one Helion had taught him, careful not to let it show to the people around them. Nothing happened later. The meeting went on smoothly, the deal was closed, and Eris had achieved better importing prices for the Autumn Court with the trading route through the Summer ports. Tarquin would benefit from different sorts of goods serving as an intermediate between Autumn and Spring.

Eris kept the cool and collected facade on his face as Eddar trailed after him once the meeting was over, the loyal noble at his service. The High Lord left the palace and tunneled his way into the crowd, not giving Eddar a chance to be alone with him and try anything funny.

“Can I talk to you?” Eddar tried nonetheless, but Eris kept walking.

“I’m busy.”

“Where’s your boyfriend, hm?” Eddar grabbed his arm, and Eris shook it off, turning to face him. They had stopped on the corner of a street, relatively quiet except for sporadic passersby.

“What do you want?” Eris asked, keeping his face as neutral as he could, not taking the bait.

“I got the message, Eris. You’ve proved your point. You wanted me to feel jealous? I am. You win. You can drop the act now, I realize my mistake. I get how you must have felt when Stella and I—”

“You have no idea how I felt, then,” Eris snarled. Eddar hadn’t even apologized for that. He never apologized for anything. “And you have no idea how I feel now. What you saw that night wasn’t for show. I am dating someone. And I’ll make it official for the whole Court during the Autumn Equinox.”

Eddar scoffed. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I am. I’ve told you plenty of times: we are over. You ended it the day you did that to me. And don’t go bragging that you seduced those people to earn me a political advantage. I need none of that; I can ensure it myself. All I need is someone truly there to back me up, and that person isn’t you.”

Eddar’s rage blazed in his eyes, on his curled fists. “It used to be,” he growled, stepping closer to Eris. “Have you forgotten all I did for you? What I risked for you, for the Court? You wouldn’t have gotten here without me. Now you want to throw all we have in the trash and pretend you don’t love me anymore?! You need me, and you know it!”

Flames roared in Eris’s gaze. “I am grateful for all you did. But I don’t have to force myself into a relationship fated to fail with you just because of gratitude or out of shame. Actually, Eddar, the only reason I haven’t killed you yet, despite all your disrespect and crossing limits with me, despite the violations, is that I am grateful. You can make a difference in the Autumn Court; you’re good at it. But we shall go our separate ways.”

“Is it a public demonstration you want, Eris?” Eddar asked, ignoring his words. “Is this because I never let others know about us? You’re all about appearances, aren’t you? You couldn’t be content in our intimacy,” he sneered. “Then I’ll choose you for the Equinox as my partner, to prove I’m serious about you.”

Eris snorted in disbelief. “Sure. You’ve performed in my place ever since I became High Lord. I bet you enjoyed the attention of the females you took to the cave. I allowed it because I hadn’t found a partner, indeed, and no two males have performed the rite before. But now I do have my pick.” He grinned, and true happiness shone in his eyes. He saw how that had enraged Eddar even more. “This year, Eddar, the High Lord will be performing the ritual. Everyone is invited to seek pleasure afterwards, you as well.”

“You can’t seriously think the Council will accept a good-for-nothing bastard as the High Lord’s partner, and a male, for that matter. It’s been four years since you changed the law. Do you believe you can marry him without any trouble? Why do you think I haven’t proposed to you? I was waiting for things to smooth out. Did you have to be so childish and impatient? Couldn’t you wait instead of rubbing a disgraceful bastard on my face as an excuse for a boyfriend?”

Blinding rage coiled in his stomach, anger threatening to flare at any moment, but Eris knew that retorting, reacting to defend himself or others, was precisely what Eddar wanted. It was ammunition he would use later, would twist into something Eris had never said to paint a distorted reality. So Eris shook his head. There was no point in talking to someone who didn’t listen. In the past, those words would have made him wish to prove a point. Now he knew there was no proving a point with Eddar.

“Right, because everything I do is to get on your nerves,” Eris dragged his voice to sound bored. “Everything is about you, isn’t it? Do me a favor, Eddar.” He started to walk away. He needed to distance himself from Eddar, or his control would snap. He looked over his shoulder and said, “Don’t give Lucien more trouble than you give me. I think we’re done here.”

Eddar reached out behind him. “The hell we are— gagh!”

Eris heard the gasp, the smash of cracking stone, and his heart skipped a beat when a cold, thundering voice said, “Move, and you die.”

Eddar was pressed against the nearest wall, hands incapacitated behind his back. A black blade was pressed against his throat, and the male lurking in the darkness was a thing born from nightmares. The black leathers, the large, powerful wings, the stone face… with one look at him, one would shake in fright. People scattered away, rushing their kids out of sight of the shadowsinger. Eris could sniff fear in the air, could feel the freezing presence of the Illyrian seeping around Eddar. He could swear his ex had paled, his body so stiff he looked like a statue.

Azriel’s eyes met Eris's, and anger splashed across his features, in his tickling jaw, his pursed lips, and narrowed eyes. It was that same old feeling Azriel had directed at him in the past, when there was still a grudge between them because of Mor. Now, that rage was turned towards someone else.

“Should I kill him?” Azriel asked, smashing Eddar against the wall harder, making some cracks appear on the bricks. He didn’t wait for a reply, peering back at his victim. “No, dying is too easy for scum like you,” the shadowsinger went on, baring his teeth. He smiled then, as if he’d had a realization. “Watching Eris happy with me bothers you, doesn’t it? It bothers you that you can’t control him, ensnare him in your twisted words to have him back.”

Eddar had the guts to bark a reply, “What sweet lies have you spun for him, bastard? What is it that you’re after, hm? Gold? Power? Status? Eris has all of it. I’m sure you’ll dump him once you get what you want. Eris is too naive to realize it. But I’ll be here for him once you break his heart.”

“Oh my, you got me in my wicked plan,” Azriel mocked. “Nobles like you disgust me. Sure, you think any bastard is a golddigger. But stop pretending, fucker,” the shadowsinger snarled. “You and I know who the real jewel is. That’s why you’ve finally bothered to care about what Eris wants. You’re afraid to have the true treasure slip through your fingers when you thought it would never happen. But let me tell you something,” Azriel reached closer to Eddar’s ear. “He’s not a thing for you to possess. And your spell? It doesn’t work on him. He has me now. So fuck off.”

Eris had been thinking about when to intervene, but Azriel’s words stunned him. They carried love in their choice, love that was soothing and protective without possessiveness. He took in a deep breath, pulling himself together.

“You can’t kill me,” Eddar sneered. “I’m more trouble than your paycheck can handle. You can follow Eris around like the drooling dog that you are, but that’s not gonna last. Eris is just having fun with you; he’s done that before. Maybe he likes having someone to order around. He’ll come back to me once he tires of you, as he always does.”

Azriel roared in laughter, a dark, cold caress that Eris felt down to his bones. “I could find a million ways to make your death seem deserving.” Azriel pressed truth-teller against his neck harder, a thin line of blood running down his skin. His shadows lurked around Eddar, like tendrils of night, hissing in warning. “You forget who I am. I’m the Spymaster of the Night Court. I’m pretty sure you’ve heard of how I do things. If I were you, I’d think twice about receiving my particular brand of skills on your… rather fragile frame, lordling. You won’t last ten minutes under my blades. And if I think you’re a threat to Eris, I’ll spare him the headache and deal with you myself.”

“I think that’s enough, love,” Eris managed to find his words, and Azriel’s eyes fell on him. He took in Eris’s posture, and whatever he saw there seemed to calm the darkness seeping from him. “I don’t want you crashing another building in a fight. I’m sure Eddar has learned his lesson. Haven’t you?”

Eddar struggled, but the power emanating from the blade at his throat, from the male pinning him to the wall, seemed to make him reconsider.

“Yes,” he spat.

“Next time you attempt to touch him, to even get near him, I kill first, ask questions later,” Azriel growled, then released him, coming to Eris’s side. Eddar stumbled, but Eris wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were locked with Azriel, who gently cupped his cheek, his expression softening as he scanned him, looking for anything amiss. “You alright?”

Eris almost purred at the sound of his voice, covering Azriel’s hand with his own and interlacing their fingers. “I am now,” he drawled, smiling at him. “Let’s go back.”

He didn’t look back at Eddar. Didn’t say anything else. This should make it clear. Eris didn’t let go of Azriel’s hand as he winnowed them back to the Inn. He didn’t see the red ire in Eddar’s face, the shaking from the humiliation, and under it all, the malice.

.

As soon as they landed in their room, Eris sought refuge in his boyfriend’s arms, hiding his face in his neck and hugging his middle tightly.

“Don’t believe what he said,” Eris urged. “I’m not just having fun with you, and I’ll never go back to him.”

Azriel pressed a kiss atop his head, enveloping him against his body. “I know. I thought that something was odd,” Azriel murmured against Eris’s hair. “What happened there, Pumpkin?”

“Eddar must have found out about today’s meeting and came as a representative. He probably knew Lucien wasn’t coming and then put two and two together. He’s familiar with our Court’s procedures.” Eris fisted Azriel’s shirt, wanting to merge their bodies, to get rid of that coiling fear inside him that only now was surfacing.

For some reason, he couldn’t hide it from Azriel, and the shadowsinger noticed the change in his scent, in his reactions. He trembled when Azriel held his nape, bringing Eris closer to his neck, making him take in Azriel’s scent.

Eris breathed, breathed, breathed… Not enough.

He lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Azriel’s shoulders, crashing his mouth against his boyfriend’s. Azriel reacted fast to sustain him as Eris collided against him, opening up to take his tongue. The kiss was demanding, urgent, needy. Eris kissed Azriel like he was starved, thirsty.

“Eris—Mn,” Azriel started, but Eris didn’t give him time to speak, capturing his lips again, climbing Azriel as he launched himself up to circle his legs around the shadowsinger’s hips. Azriel held him from under his ass, carrying him to the bed, but he snatched Eris’s wrists and pinned them above his head on the mattress, retreating to look at him. “Eris, you’re shuddering. What’s wrong?”

“I need you,” Eris pleaded, trying to get his hands free to pull Azriel down.

“I am here.”

“Inside me,” Eris clarified, but his shaking didn’t stop, and so Azriel didn’t move an inch to oblige him.

“I’m not fucking you in this state,” Azriel declared, and Eris grunted in frustration.

“You want to,” Eris tried again, his eyes falling to the hardness pressing against the shadowsinger’s pants.

“I always want you,” Azriel remarked, coming down to kiss him gently. “But not like this.”

Azriel wrapped Eris’s legs around him, then passed his arms around his shoulders and circled Eris from under his body, that hand going behind his neck, to where his tattoo was. Azriel let his weight press over Eris just enough so that Eris felt he was protected, not caged. Azriel’s weight was like a warm pile of blankets, intended to comfort those in need to hide from the world.

Slowly, they breathed in together. Azriel waited patiently for Eris’s body to stop trembling, kissing his neck softly, appreciative. Eris closed his eyes, ashamed of his reactions, of letting Azriel see yet another vulnerable side of himself. He knew the shadowsinger wouldn’t judge or say anything insensitive, but that didn’t make the situation any more comfortable.

“You’re okay,” Azriel said against his skin, traveling his mouth up to his chin, his cheeks, his nose. “You’re safe. Do you want me to kill him for you?”

Eris chuckled at the way he said it, like it was as simple as breathing. “Gods, no. It would be more of a headache than a relief.”

Azriel looked down at him, a brow raised in question. “I don't believe you. You reacted this way the other time you encountered that guy. Are you afraid of him?”

“I’m not,” Eris said, and it was the truth, but… His eyes traveled on Azriel’s face. He trusted him to admit the real issue. “My body is. It still remembers… What I went through with him. In my head, I know I’m stronger. I could easily kill him, but my body feels the trigger every time he’s around. I can’t control the shaking for too long. I was on the verge of letting my control slip when you arrived, after hours by Eddar’s side in the meeting.”

“I see…” Azriel replied, trailing Eris’s cheeks as his eyes moved from left to right, taking in the lines of his face. Concern shone in his gaze when Azriel said, “I feel your pain. I felt your plea when I was at the shore. I nearly lost my mind thinking you were in danger. I don't even know what he did, but I want to carve that fucker's guts open for it.”

The fear in him eased out when heat coiled in his stomach. Eris flushed slightly at the thoughts, unable to block the images. There was something wrong with him, Mother above…

“I think you’ve damaged my mind, Azriel…”

The shadowsinger corked a brow. “How come?”

Eris sighed loudly, staring into the green in Azriel’s eyes. “I feel roused knowing that you can kill people in two seconds.”

Azriel’s wicked smile did nothing to calm the heat coursing through his blood. “You’d be the first. I’m surprised my murdering aura has the opposite effect on you,” he drawled, nibbling Eris’s chin. “Some might say you're crazy. You were ever unfazed by anything I did back then.”

“I find everything about you attractive,” Eris confessed, traveling his hands on his boyfriend’s shoulders.

“Even my broody scowl?”

Eris chuckled, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Even that. If only because I know how to make you lose composure in two seconds.”

Azriel grinned. “That is accurate. How does it feel to be the only one with that sort of power over me?”

“It makes me feel special,” Eris declared. “It makes me want to see you surrender, but also to surrender myself to you. And strangely, it has always been like this with you. I can’t explain why I feel no threat from you when I’ve learned to guard myself at all times in the Autumn Court. I feel like there’s nothing I can’t tell you, Azriel. Nothing I want to hide or conceal. Not anymore. I confess that I’m a bit scared of how much I trust you.”

Azriel’s throat bobbed, but he replied, “You make me want to surrender to you, too.”

The shadowsinger took his lips in a languid kiss, slow and seductive, dragging Eris out of his stupor and into the sensation of that mouth on his, of that scent of forest cedar on his nostrils. In the past, once fear erupted and control slipped away from him, Eris used sex to forget about his father’s atrocities, seeking it in Eddar’s arms.

Then they broke up for what should have been the last time. Once Eris felt ready, and tried it again with someone new… Eddar had done what he had and… well, it had been hard to allow other people to touch him without feeling triggered. It took him a while to take lovers, until he’d started seeking shallow pleasure here and there.

However, being here, letting himself be kissed and caressed, felt more intimate and meaningful than sex could ever be. Azriel hadn’t taken advantage of his weak state to enjoy himself. He offered an alternative path to dealing with his overwhelming emotions. Affection, not burning desire, to handle difficult feelings. The sense of safety he had with Azriel was a match for nothing he had ever felt.

Azriel parted the kiss, his eyes gentle as he smiled at him. “Let’s go change, love,” he said, and Eris beamed at the word, at how beautifully it rolled out on Azriel’s voice. “There’s a surprise waiting for you, and… I think it’s time I know what happened between the two of you, if that’s okay with you. I want to respect your boundaries, I truly do, but I can’t stand seeing you in pain. I want to hear your story with him, Eris.”

Eris pressed his forehead to Azriel’s, taking in deep breaths. He was right. He had been delaying this talk for a while, but he had already agreed to tell the shadowsinger of that part of his past. It would be a difficult thing to share. However, as he felt Azriel’s hand on his cheek, beholding the love in his boyfriend’s eyes, his wish to help him overcome the things he hadn’t yet…

“This might take a while, Cupcake,” Eris answered.

“I can hear you talk for as long as you need, Pumpkin.” He melted when Azriel gave him multiple pecks on the lips. “Change and come with me. You’re gonna love the place I found to sneak in with you. Especially because only you can enter there.”

Chapter Text

Azriel and Eris walked hand in hand by the shore. According to the shadowsinger, there was a hot spring at a hidden place behind a mountain, but no one bathed there because the water’s temperature was scorching. They entered a cave by the end of the beach and followed a naturally carved path until they saw a light blue gleam reflected on the walls. The next turn revealed a large steaming pool, almost the size of a pond. The light came from inside it, as if there was something on the rocks beneath. Eris was astonished by it, more so when he surveyed the layers of fabric splayed on the ground ahead, along with a few baskets of food. A picnic date?

“Nice spot,” Eris commented. “How did you find it?”

Azriel winked at him. “I have my ways. So, what first? Food or bath? I thought you might want to relax after the meeting, thus the water.”

Eris loved how attentive he was, and the soft smile on Azriel’s face made something ease in his chest. The necessary talk. The thing Eris had never told anyone, not even Lucien. The real reason why he couldn’t kill Eddar. The shame he felt for having allowed the male to have control over him for so long. Shame of himself for not having been stronger.

The High Lord sighed and scanned the cave, noticing a waterfall at the other end.

“Wait here,” Eris stated, taking off his clothes and stepping into the boiling water.

His magic flared around the lake as he reached the center of the pool, the water clocked on his chest. Eris joined his palms, and steam erupted from him and around him, evaporating to the cave’s ceiling, cooling the water for them. His eyes fell on Azriel on the other side, glued to Eris’s silhouette. When he lowered his gaze to his boyfriend’s trousers, though…

“Is that what I think it is?” He drawled, a lazy smile dancing on his lips.

“What?” Azriel flinched. “That’s sexy as hell. What did you expect?”

Eris chuckled, gesturing with his fingers to him. “Come here.”

Azriel didn’t need to be told twice. He removed his clothes, and Eris dragged his stare over his bare body as he stepped into the water. The Illyrian met Eris in the center of the pool, circling his waist. Eris’s wet hands trailed up along his arms, his touch tender in adoration, moving to Azriel’s waist and back. The shadowsinger lifted his arms, spilling water around them as he rounded Eris’s shoulders and joined their lips in a searing kiss.

“So, fire tricks turn you on, hm?” Eris asked, his hands dropping to Azriel’s ass.

“You and anything you do turn me on,” Azriel pointed out, trailing Eris’s shoulders. “But sure, fire tricks seem… interesting. Different.”

“We haven’t tried it in bed. Well, not since that time,” the High Lord remarked. “I didn’t suggest it because I thought it might… trigger you some bad memories.”

Eris’s hands went up to hold Azriel’s scarred ones, brushing his thumbs gently on the maculated skin as he looked at the shadowsinger.

“It’s been centuries; it doesn’t affect me that much anymore,” Azriel shared. “And if I’m being honest… I’ve imagined some stuff with fire since we had that threesome. Maybe even before…”

Eris pressed his lips on Azriel’s hands, smirking. “We have time to be creative. I’ll make sure to surprise you.”

Their lips joined once more, and Eris tightened his arms around his boyfriend. Azriel delved into his mouth, tracing his neck and face with his hands in reassuring caresses.

Azriel pressed a long kiss to Eris’s forehead, and the redhead sighed loudly. “Tell me, Pumpkin,” he whispered, and Eris shivered, bringing their bodies closer. “Let me help soothe this pain. I’m here.”

It was okay, it was him. He could open up a bit more. Eris had delivered him his heart. Now he had to trust Azriel with what came with it. Eris nodded, and taking Azriel by the hand, he pulled him towards the waterfall. The water was shallower there, and they ended up sitting on the rocks, water coming up to their knees.

The High Lord didn’t let go of Azriel’s hand when he began telling his story.

“I won’t get into details about my father. That… well, it’s a story for another time, the mark it left on me. You know the kind of creature he was. Ever since I was young, I have been attracted to males. It was my deepest secret against my father, a desire I’d never considered pursuing. That was, until I met Eddar in my fifth decade of life, a while after the first war against Hybern. He was the youngest of three sons of my father’s right hand. Eddar wouldn’t inherit his father’s title or lands. Despite knowing he would have no social status if he didn’t climb the ranks of society by marriage, Eddar was different from the people I knew. There was… Something about the way he spoke, how he saw the world, that I could identify with.

“He seemed like a nice guy, also struggling with the tight control under his father’s abusive rules. We connected over that. We had a few talks over the following years, some sort of mutual understanding, but that was all. Until… Until one day, he caught me after one of my father’s torture sessions. He found me in a catacomb before I could winnow away. He wasn’t supposed to see it. I always hid until my wounds had healed enough to be bearable. But he found me and… Took care of me.

“I’d never had anyone tending to my injuries, never had someone speaking to me with such kindness in my weakest moments. He promised to keep that secret once we parted ways. After that day, I couldn’t see him with the same eyes. He came by my workspace more often to check how I was doing, and I started reaching out for him whenever I saw him, when there weren’t peaky eyes around. I yearned to talk to him, to feel those tender touches again. We became friends, and it was so nice to have a person to share my troubles with, someone I could finally be myself with; when I least expected, I was falling in love with him. I was letting him see behind my masks, the only person to know there was more to me than my cruelty, the imposed murdering heir I was supposed to be.

“There was nothing more dangerous than for two males to be together at the time. Once I admitted my feelings to myself, I hid them for a good while. I thought of myself as too much, too complicated, too needy of love and affection. I tried to hide, at least, because I noticed Eddar looking at me differently. I thought I saw love in his eyes, too. It didn’t take long for him to approach. He confessed to me. He told me he wanted to be with me, to survive the hell we lived under our parents’ rule, and when the right time came, we would take their places and make the Autumn Court a better place. Summing it up, he offered me precisely what I sought because I gave that information to him, and he wove it exactly as I wanted to hear.

“I had my first sexual experiences with him. And when it’s linked to such a strong foundation, it’s harder to forget, to let go, more so for someone like me. I didn't believe I'd ever find anyone better with the chains I lived under. All the years I'd been alone came crashing over me, as if I was drunk on my need to feel those new, intense sensations. It was a hidden relationship, of course. And there were many more times in which Eddar took care of me after my father’s ministrations. At those times, to make me feel better and distract me from my pain, he would speak to me about the bright future he saw; he would weave stories of us together, married, ruling side by side. And I envisioned all of it. I clung to it desperately, hungry for a sliver of hope in my tainted life.

Eris took in deep breaths. The beginning of their relationship had been what had made him hold on for so long. What Eddar had offered him was so special that he couldn’t let go, fearing he would never again find such a thing, someone to know him deeply and still choose to stay by his side. It had all been real for him. He couldn't explain how fucking good it felt to have someone outside his head know about those awful memories and traumas caused by his father. Only that, by trusting him, he had given Eddar information to manipulate him for centuries.

“Some time later, Eddar started acting strange,” Eris went on. Azriel’s thumb brushed over his hand, his eyes focused on him as he spoke. “He became more distant out of the sudden, disappearing for a few days and then coming back as if nothing was the matter. He didn’t tell me where he was, nor with whom. He made my worry seem like overreacting, and I let it rest for a while. But I found out. He… he was seeing someone else. A noble lady of an important household in Autumn.

The hurt of that betrayal, the first of many, even though they only dated in secret, even though they didn’t know when or how Eris becoming High Lord would come to pass… To think of Eddar with someone else, sharing what they shared… It had torn his heart apart.

“When I confronted him, all he said was that he didn’t love her. That he was doing it for me, for our future. Gathering influence. Females were a step up to power, and only that. Only until we could change the rules. It pained me every time I saw them together publicly, but, fool in love that I was, I swallowed my pride, my hurt. I tried to understand, to see past the facade. Because inside closed doors, he loved me. A few months later, he married her, and we had to stop seeing each other. He told me it was temporary, and I ended up believing him. Those were hard times, because I was again alone, having to stand by my father without anyone to support me. I had to stand by and see the one I loved with another, touching someone else.”

Eris felt the grip on his hand tighten, looking at Azriel, who had a scowl on his face, his lips in a taut line.

“What a jerk,” Azriel snarled. “He gave you what you craved most, then distanced himself to make you miss it. Like an addiction. He was clearly manipulating your feelings, giving you hope while you waited for him. If you were any similar to how you are now, how could he do that to you?”

Eris shrugged. “I have a theory that he was never into males. We’ll get to that.”

“That doesn’t justify the crap he did to you, love, but go on,” Azriel remarked. Eris smiled faintly, resting his head on the shadowsinger’s shoulder, stirring the water as he returned to talk.

“Two years later, that lady passed away from a sudden illness. I had barely seen Eddar, but then he came to me after the mourning period considered adequate. He told me he missed me, that he loved me, and that now he held the lady’s title. Marriage stated that he would be the one to inherit her influence, and then he was off his father’s hook. He had his own means to weave his path in the Autumn Court. He told me he’d done it for me, for that future he’d promised me. And I believed him.

“A few years after that, he started courting someone again. Someone even higher in rank than his deceased wife. And under the same promise to me, he remarried. The years we spent apart were… tough. We saw each other sporadically, but there was no intimacy other than a few longing glances and secret touching hands. It took me a great while to start suspecting his behavior wasn’t normal, because he was so great at convincing me, at making his words sound true, that… I gave in. I still blame myself for not seeing how obvious it was, all pretense.”

Azriel’s free hand caressed his face, and his boyfriend pressed a kiss on his forehead. “It’s not your fault. You wanted to be loyal to the person you chose, and since he was special to you, of course you’d choose to believe him. It might have been hard on you, having him make you doubt yourself.”

“Yes, I—” Eris sighed, looking up at him. “I still feel stupid for falling for that. It's obvious now, but at the time, I swear to you, it seemed so logical that…Well… it is what it is. Time was harsh on me during Eddar’s second marriage, and… even though risky, I took my first lover other than him. I didn’t feel as much pleasure, because despite everything, I still loved Eddar. I still wanted that future with him. It was only fifteen years later that his second wife died. And the same happened. I wasn’t expecting him to still want to come back to me, but he did. And it was intense. It felt great to have someone want me, to have feelings for me. I didn’t see it for what it truly was. I chose not to, once more.

“But reality knocked at my door at some point. When the patterns started again, and that sudden burst of happiness converged to insecurity, self-doubt, and anxiety, I found out that Eddar was seeing a princess. Yes, a fucking princess. I caught them in the act, and that time, I’d had enough. I didn’t want to hear his excuses. I broke up with him and decided I wouldn’t keep waiting for him anymore. I could take that pain no longer. He insisted a few times, but let go eventually. Or so I had thought.

“At a ball in the Winter Court once, I met a guy. Someone so vibrant with conversation, kind, handsome… I felt attracted to him, and when I took notice, we were talking alone in an alcove, hands touching… He told me he was a bottom. And I was stunned because I… I had never been on top. Never. Most times Eddar and I did it, it was with me on my stomach. He didn’t look at my face when we fucked, it was always from behind.”

“That’s awkward,” Azriel pointed out, his voice low. “And you said he didn’t want you to cut your hair. It totally adds up to him not actually feeling attracted to males. He was just making sure he had influence over you, to make you keep thinking about him. Gods, I hate him. I’m regretting not having slashed him today.”

Eris gave him a peck on the lips. “That was one of the first things I felt different with you, you know. I thought I knew what it was like to be wanted. Good thing you raised my standards.”

He smiled, and Azriel held the back of his neck, eyes burning with desire for him. “I’ll keep raising them; there’s no such thing as not wanting you. You’re perfect.”

“I surely am not, but thanks for thinking so highly of me,” Eris replied, averting his eyes, but Azriel brought his face back, taking his mouth.

“I get it now, why you were insecure before cutting your hair. I told you then, and I’ll say it again, Pumpkin. You’re the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen. Come to me whenever you need me to remind you of that.”

Eris laced the shadowsinger’s shoulders, nuzzling his nose. “My sweetest…” Azriel’s huffed breaths against his face made the High Lord join their lips, unable to resist him, groaning as the shadowsinger’s arms wrapped around his waist. “You’re making it hard for me not to ask you to remind me of that right now, Cupcake, but I still have a story to finish.”

“Sorry,” Azriel smiled. “Here, let’s sit like this.”

His boyfriend crossed his legs as he nestled at the pond’s bottom, and circled Eris’s legs around him, pulling the redhead to his lap. The water clocked at their waists that way, its warmth caressing their skins, still at the right temperature under Eris’s magic.

“I want to feel you close…” Azriel said, kissing Eris’s neck. “Hearing you is making my heart sink for what you went through. I wished we had gotten close sooner…”

Eris gulped. He hadn’t reached the worst part… He trailed a finger on Azriel’s tattoos, not meeting his boyfriend’s eyes as he went on.

“Going back to the ball. I was about to deny that guy when I thought, what if I liked it? I surely felt attracted to him, and when I kissed him, I was ready to take that step. I felt like being dominant with him. That was, if Eddar hadn’t seen us and interrupted. He told me I was reckless and was about to drag me out of there by force if needed be, as if afraid my father might discover me.

“The guy just looked at me with understanding. I muttered an ‘I’m sorry’ and let myself follow Eddar. He took me to a bedroom and kissed me. He gave me no time to react, he only went all for it, like he’d never before, and… I gave in. After everything, I still loved him. Or to be more precise, I loved the idea of him. The idea that I could change him. Those first years together still clung to my soul, those precious memories. I wasn’t strong enough to resist being held by the person I wanted. Some part of me thrived at the thought of Eddar being jealous of me, as I had been of him countless times. I accepted scraps. I was so attached to the past that I fucking couldn't let go, because letting go felt like dying. It felt as if, if I didn't have those memories, I didn't exist; they were a sense of self.

“We ended up together again, but it didn’t last long. It never lasted. Eddar is addicted to power. He couldn’t keep himself from the ladies’ good graces, and there he was again, flirting and being his charming self. We broke up and got back together a few times because I was weak. I had built my way in the Court, made people respect me, fear me. But no one knew who I really was. No one knows who I truly am. No one but him. And because of that… I reached out to Eddar whenever it was too hard for me to stand alone, whenever I needed someone to tell me things were going to be okay and that I wasn’t alone.

“I didn't want a random person to reassure me, if that makes any sense. I wanted someone who knew my story and understood. I reached out to Eddar because he was the only one who knew what I went through, and still touched me, still wanted me. And my behavior led him to believe that I’ll still go back to him. What he said today happened a lot in the past, so he thinks I’ll not be able to resist my ‘addiction’ to him. It was an unending cycle. And… Well, there was a… situation that… made my body react the way it did today, and every time I see Eddar ever since.”

His heart raced, and Eris suddenly felt his words hard to get past that knot in his throat. The memory of those days still tormented him in nightmares. Not even his father’s torturing had been able to affect him this much, horrible as they’d been. What would Azriel do once he knew? Fear wrung out his stomach, and Eris’s lips trembled.

The shadowsinger brought his head back to look at him. His eyes traveled on him, seeing the pain he carried, and Eris quivered as his boyfriend’s soft, gentle kisses brushed his skin.

“Nothing you say will make me go away. Nothing, Eris. I love you.”

The certainty in which he spoke, those emotions in his eyes… Eris could see the difference. Now he could recognize it, the subtle changes in a person’s lilt, the way their gaze moved, their facial expressions… There was only truth in Azriel’s eyes. Only love shone there, and Eris could feel it deep in his soul, how sincere Azriel’s feelings for him were.

His body still trembled, though, as he remembered. He still couldn’t control his reactions, it… it was so, so painful…

“Take your time, Pumpkin. I’m here with you,” Azriel soothed him, trailing his hands on his back, then cupping the tattoo. It sent a shock wave through Eris’s spine. It felt like Azriel was blocking his most vulnerable spot against danger. Somehow, as he was held there while telling his story, it changed everything. It lifted a weight from his shoulders. “I’ll take everything that is on the other side. I won’t leave you. You’re mine.”

It should have sounded like ownership. It should have scared him, because Eris had heard that before. But it didn’t stir fear in him this time. No, his heart was blooming, because it felt like belonging. Like coming home. His arms tightened around Azriel, and Eris took his mouth in a kiss. Yes, he wanted to be his. He fucking wanted to stay with him forever, and he was scared of feeling this way again. But as he tasted his boyfriend, as his chest expanded with his own love for him… He found it in himself to be brave.

As they pulled away, Eris stared into Azriel’s hazel eyes and said, “I’m yours.”

He let Azriel see what that meant. What he was laying bare open to him. He was giving him everything: his body, his trust, his soul. The shadowsinger kissed his cheek in answer, placing Eris's hand over his heart, letting the High Lord feel the strong beats, racing as Azriel looked at him.

“After our last breakup, I finally lay with a guy being a top. And I enjoyed it. I did it a few more times, and things seemed to finally be going well for me, as if I were detaching myself from Eddar. He seemed pretty good hanging out with a lady back then, and I thought we were both moving forward. One day, he invited me to a tavern after a meeting, wanting to chit-chat and update me on things.

“I liked talking to him. It was one of the most attractive things about him, his intelligence. I didn’t suspect a thing; I went with him. I was… a fool. It didn’t occur to me that he would be capable of… doing what he did next.”

His body’s shaking intensified, but Azriel’s hold around him was strong, steadying him. Eris focused on breathing in and out, on taking that out of his heart.

“He drugged my drink when I was in the toilet. I don’t know what it was, but it was strong enough to knock me out. When I woke… I had my hands and feet tied to a bed somewhere, in special chains that blocked my magic. Gagged, with a leash around my neck, I had no idea what was happening, no way to defend myself. I thought I had been abducted, and when I saw Eddar entering the room, I felt relief for a moment, thinking he was there to save me. Only it had been his doing. And once I realized what he was about to do…”

Azriel’s snarl came in between his words, but Eris didn’t look at him, his eyes down on their tangled bodies. His mind was elsewhere, reliving those moments again.

“He told me he had found out what I'd been doing. That I was getting hold of myself fucking other guys, but that he knew what I truly liked… He wanted to remind me I belonged to him, and that I had been made to submit to him. He fucked me for two days straight. He made it hurt. He used… things to make it painful to me. He accused me of being a slut once my traitorous body reacted to some of that taunting. He didn’t clean me after he came, letting the stench of his pleasure all over my body as a mark of ownership. He kept repeating ‘You’ll never leave me’, ‘No one will ever love you like I do’, and then… When he finally released me… I took bath after bath to take that out of myself. I couldn’t tell anyone. First, because I was so, so ashamed that I felt dirty. And second, I’d be executed if I exposed that crime. Not that my father would have done anything about it, he'd probably say that was a great way to teach me a lesson. I was so broken I… I thought I didn’t want to live anymore. I wanted to die after such humiliation.

“I hang the rope in an abandoned cabin in the forest. It was a late winter night, and no one would be there to witness it. I was ready to do it. Yet, when I climbed the stool… I felt a pull. An urgent, desperate cry telling me not to do it. Pleading with me not to. It clung to my chest, like a string vibrating with the same, constant note. It was so loud that I took a step back. I fell back against the wall, and I sobbed. I realized I didn’t want to die, I wanted… I just wanted someone to be there for me, to pull me back up. And deep down, I—I had the realization that… that person had to be me. There wasn’t anyone to save me.

“Pumpkin… Gods, You… You almost—I… I almost…” Azriel’s words came out slurred, and when Eris finally looked at him, the shadowsinger was sobbing. Azriel hugged him tight, startling him, and Eris could only hold him close.

“I’m alive, baby. I’m alive,” he murmured against Azriel’s hair, but in truth, he also voiced those words for himself. As a reminder that he was still here.

“Thank the Mother, you are,” Azriel wailed, kissing his face, holding him tenderly between his hands, streams of tears running down his cheeks. “I almost lost you…”

“I’m here. May it be the Mother’s intervention or something else, I am forever grateful I didn’t go on with it. I’m grateful that I got to find you, Azriel.”

Azriel’s body trembled as he hugged him again, and Eris melted into his embrace, tightening his arms around him. The shadowsinger’s hand cupped the back of Eris’s head, and the sense of protection, of tranquility taking him, eased some of that pain in his soul. Eris continued to speak, laying his cheek on the curve of Azriel’s neck and shoulder.

“I stayed in that cabin for days, and I still felt that string playing that note. As if it was checking if I was still alive. I don’t know why, but that comforted me. Whatever that was, I took it as a sign that there was still something for me to do, something to live for. I decided I had to heal myself first; I wouldn’t allow my body to be a coffin for my pain to be buried with. And to heal, I had to break the pattern. Do things differently. I stopped chasing the snake, trying to make it feel guilty for having hurt me instead of finding a cure for its poison inside me.

“It was then that I started learning how to play the cello. A string instrument, in a beautiful, grave tune, able to touch the deepest ends of my soul. It was… a way out for my anger, for my grief. It was grief, you know? That future I’d never have with Eddar. I mourned those dreams, and I poured everything, good and bad, into my cello. I took it out of myself, talked myself into living again. It saved me, in many ways. Music helped me see through the manipulation I’d been under, even though I was used to the court’s schemes and deception. Eddar’s manipulation was of a different sort. One that I was too late to realize I had fallen prey to, and ripping off his claws from my mind was no easy task. But I did it. It took me years, but I did it.

“A few years ago, some time before my father’s downfall and the High Lord’s power shifting to me… I started having a dream. The same dream, again and again, with three silhouettes walking together in the mist. I couldn’t see them, couldn’t know who they were. But I thought… That might be the family waiting for me to reach them. It fueled me. And… I allowed myself to have my own dreams, not those sugary lies from Eddar. When I became High Lord, I started changing my Court. I wanted it to heal from my father’s cruelty, to bring more music, art, and beauty to my people. I wanted it to heal with me.

“I forgot about relationships for a while, digging into work. I had a lover here and there, but that was all. I started noticing how people looked at me. With interest, greed, even, both males and females. Perhaps they had always done that, but I was too focused on ignoring those around me because of Eddar. But once I stepped into power, I didn’t want to find a partner through a political advantage, nor someone seeking my hand for greed. I wanted the love I’d dreamed about. I wanted to be happy. The only remnants of the old times were, well, my father’s ghost… and Eddar. I couldn’t kill him after eliminating his father and brothers, who had attempted a coup against me. I spared Eddar for the sake of the old alliance between our families, but Eddar wasn’t satisfied with that.

“As soon as I had the title, he started asking me out again. Barging into my office, following me around, and even going to my house once. I drew the line, and then he tried getting at me during counseling meetings. There is opposition against me in the Autumn Court. I’ve changed a great deal of laws, and the old generation isn’t happy with that. They’ve stayed back so far, but I wouldn’t put it past them to attempt something. Eddar is the only one, aside from Lucien, who’s backing me up in the meetings. I know he’s doing that because he’s still seeking my hand. He already acts like he’s High Lord; he tries to diminish me and take control of the room when we gather. I learned how to keep him in line, but I… still can’t control my body around him. He still thinks he’ll marry me and hold the same title, as we used to talk back then.”

“That’s not what he wants, Eris,” Azriel declared, staring at him with fierce eyes. “He doesn’t want to share the title with you. He wants to be the only Autumn High Lord. If he marries you, you’ll die. He’s killed his wives, for all we know. He’s a psychopath. Once he’s got what he wants, the highest position in Autumn, he’ll kill his final obstacle. You.”

“That’s… plausible…” Yeah, Eris hadn’t thought of that. It was dreadful, to say the least, but Eddar was surely capable of it. “That’s why I’m on vacation. I need time to think. I need to come up with a plan to avoid another internal feud in the Autumn Court. My other brothers are on the run. And the old Lords are all conservatives. They won’t accept our relationship that easily, but I’ll think of something.”

“We will think of something,” Azriel stated. “We are in this together. I won’t allow you to be alone with those despicable males. I had no idea things were this tough in Autumn. You made it sound as if you had it under control, but… Let me help, Eris. I’m offering my best skills to you. I can gather information better than most spies. You can use it to turn the board.”

Eris swallowed hard. His hands traveled on Azriel’s chest, and that part of him that was still insecure, that still doubted… He couldn’t believe he had this. Had him.

“And your ex…” Azriel went on, baring his teeth. Wrath spread on his features as he spoke, “I should have opened his guts with my bare hands today. I’m half-tempted to go after that arrogant scumbag and break each and every one of his bones, I’ll—”

“Woa, calm dow—”

“Calm?” Azriel growled, his voice a low, dangerous thing. “That fucking scoundrel raped you! How can I be calm knowing that piece of crap is still breathing after what he did?! How do you expect me to stay put when he's hurt you for centuries? He takes one step close to you, and he’s done for. I’ll make him regret the day he put his hands on you, the pain he thought he had the right to inflict. Eris, I—”

Eris kissed him. Something inside him roared in response to Azriel’s loss of control, to the rage pouring out of the shadowsinger. He’s yours. He’s in pain. Azriel grabbed him closer, his grip firm, but not rude. Azriel always held him gently, even when they had more intense sex.

“Make love to me,” Eris asked.

That rage flickered, giving space to desire, but the shadowsinger held back, staring at him with uncertainty. “Now?”

“Yes.”

“Then you take the lead, I—”

“No. I want you inside,” Eris declared. “You knowing doesn’t change anything, Azriel. What happened to me doesn’t mean you have to let me in control to prove a point. I already know. I know I can safely surrender to you, as you will surrender to me. I know we can explore everything our bodies like without any shame. I know I can trust you to guide my pleasure, as you'll trust me to guide yours. You are the second person to whom I said ‘I love you’. And I wish you to be my last.”

Azriel’s anger had completely dissolved now. He stared at him with twinkling eyes, his breath coming out ragged, his hands trembling slightly.

“Wait, let me say something first,” his boyfriend said, and Eris felt like, after his opening up, Azriel wanted to do the same. “When we met in Autumn, I… I was lost to my pain. I didn't want to live anymore, but I wouldn’t harm myself in such a way. So I got myself into a kind of life that felt like punishment. I had so much anger and shame inside me that I didn't know what to do with that. I used to redirect that into torturing people, into my missions, and when the war was over… Free time was more like a curse than a blessing. Free time meant that I was alone with my thoughts, my memories. And then…”

Azriel's gaze was lined with silver, and Eris brushed his thumb over his cheek, cupping the back of his head.

“Then you came along. You teased me instead of pitying me. You made me delicious food instead of lecturing me on how I should live. Even in sex, you showed me I could enjoy affection. That I actually needed it, desperately. You have been pulling me out of that pit, Pumpkin. You made something spark inside me again. You lit my days so much that, at first, I wanted to hide from it. I'm so grateful you didn't give up on me back then, that you saw past my armor and still offered up a hand. I'm beyond grateful to have you in my life, and so fucking relieved you are alive and well, that you're here with me…”

Eris couldn't help his burning eyes, couldn't do anything but touch their foreheads, listening to Azriel, letting his words weave their way into his heart.

“I want to say that I'm honored that you've chosen me. Learning you lived through such hell and still decided to…” He gulped, caressing Eris's ear. “To give me your heart. To love me despite having your love twisted against you countless times… I don't even know what to say that might convey what this means to me.”

“Then don't say anything,” Eris said, brushing his lips against Azriel's. His soul was resting now, after letting go of that pain, after showing Azriel the scars on his heart. Eris was ready to belong to Azriel, as he wished Azriel belonged to him. He whispered, “Show me.”

“I fucking love you,” Azriel rasped, and then they were kissing.

Azriel took his mouth, whining lowly, and Eris threw himself at him. His heart filled with light as the shadowsinger lifted him in his arms and crossed Eris's legs around his middle. Azriel stepped into a deeper part of the pool, reaching for the other side of the waterfall. The blue crystals shone as the fillets of water cascaded down, and Eris groaned as he felt the hard rock pressing against his back, letting Azriel have at his body. Something ached in him, urged him to be filled, to have Azriel’s cock buried deep inside, to have his teeth closed around his throat.

He hadn’t had such an urgent need before; he could only surrender to his desire for Azriel as the Illyrian brought his mouth to his neck, tasting his skin just like Eris wished. Azriel worshipped the body he loved, the male he loved. His lips found Eris's again, and Azriel kissed him slowly now, brushing his thumb under his earlobe, flicking his tongue against Eris's with longing. It was like Azriel wanted to kiss him for all the years they'd been apart, like he wished to tell him through his tender touches that he was here, here for him. The gesture caressed that wound in Eris's soul, embracing the last remnants of shame.

Azriel pressed against him as his cock hardened, rubbing his length against Eris’s deliciously taunt and slow. Eris gripped his hair and pulled Azriel to him, biting him, sucking his tongue, exploring his mouth as his need started rushing him to open for Azriel. Eris was sure that he’d never get enough of those full lips, never get tired of kissing him every day. Eris grunted when Azriel breached his entrance with the first finger, marveling at the fact that he was climbing his boyfriend, his ankles locked at Azriel's back as he prepared him. The shadowsinger hissed at the tightness, at how anxiously Eris squeezed him, needy and panting when he broke the kiss.

Eris started licking all the extensions of Azriel’s shoulder and neck while the Illyrian worked his fingers inside him, moving three in and out with a certain ease now. Eris could take it no more. He faced him and pleaded, “I need you.”

Azriel snarled, and, unplucking his fingers from him, he brought his cock up, sticking it in slowly, drowning in the lush moans Eris let out every inch it went inside.

“Azriel…” Eris dragged his name, and the shadowsinger breathed hard, waiting for him to get used to him. “Ah… It feels so good…” Eris thought it was impossible to tell which way was better, fucking Azriel or letting Azriel fuck him. He absolutely loved both.

Small waves formed around them as Azriel started to move, dragging his cock out and plunging back in, slowly, so slowly that it broke something in Eris.

“Feel me inside you, babe,” Azriel said to his ear, nibbling at the tip. “I’ll never, ever, hurt you. You’ll only feel pleasure with me.” The shadowsinger drew back, eyes trained on him, drinking in Eris’s moans, watching his face bending back as Eris’s legs tightened around the Illyrian’s middle. “Our bodies like this? It's our sanctuary. I’ll make you feel so good you’ll think you’ll die from pleasure.” Their chests rubbed against one another, and Azriel pressed Eris against the waterfall, water pouring on his hair, darkening its natural shade into fiery copper. “Then I’ll make you come alive again.”

Eris was too taken by those words, by the sensations coursing through his body, by that cock teasing his rim, reaching that sweet spot every single time it went in. Azriel kissed him deeply, delving into Eris’s taste and scent, fucking him slowly.

“Hmgh… mng…” Eris’s body shook with the pleasure, with being so intimately linked with someone he trusted with his mind and heart, with someone he loved so much he'd move mountains if that meant they could be together forever. That certainty expanded in him, and Eris gave in to the need to have his ass gorged with Azriel’s seed, to impregnate himself with the shadowsinger’s scent and let everyone know that this male was his.

Mine. My Cupcake. My love. Eris’s ass clenched around Azriel’s cock as he bit the shadowsinger’s neck, his climax building inside him so fast he couldn’t take it. Eris let release crash over him, crying out Azriel's name, his eyelids lowering as he felt Azriel duck deep into him a few more times and spurt, his forehead pressing on Eris’s shoulder as he moaned with the spasms that ran through him.

Azriel unplucked himself and settled Eris on his feet, caressing his cheek and circling his waist as they recovered. Their chests pressed, and the redhead tunneled his fingers in Azriel’s hair, pulling as he brought the shadowsinger’s mouth to his, still thirsty for him.

“I feel strange,” Azriel murmured against his lips, huffing. “I—”

“Give me more, Azriel,” Eris asked, and he couldn’t understand why that ache was still there.

“Eris, I—I need you to—” Eris was once again kissing him, tangling his tongue against Azriel’s with dominance now, need emptying his mind from everything but the male in front of him. Azriel pulled him back, grabbing his hair a bit more rudely, as if he, too, was taken by the same desire, his body twitching. “Please, I—”

“I get it,” Eris said, biting Azriel’s lips. “I’ll give you what you want.”

Eris pushed him slightly as he took his mouth, making Azriel walk backwards without parting the kiss, until Azriel’s back pressed against the hard rock. The shadowsinger realized it was a boulder, water clinging to their knees. Azriel reached back, but Eris held him and moved his lips to his neck, his tongue licking every inch of skin on his way as the High Lord bent in front of him. Azriel wanted to touch him, but Eris grabbed his hand.

“Please, let me,” Eris said, and Azriel panted as he crossed his leg over his shoulder.

Eris traveled his mouth to the inner part of Azriel’s thigh, flicking on a trail to his balls. A gasp left the shadowsinger’s lips when Eris sucked him there, his hand going for Azriel’s rim, inserting a finger. The Illyrian groaned at each stroke inside, his sounds of pleasure echoing on the cave’s walls as Eris swallowed his cock whole. Another finger went in, and Azriel gripped his wet hair, holding it as Eris sucked him. Gods, he was delicious. The taste of him was making Eris’s head spin, urging him for more.

“You’re so wet for me, love…” Eris purred, licking his cock from the bottom to the head. “You need me to eat your ass, don't you, beautiful?”

Azriel moaned when Eris sucked his rim, his fingers enveloping the shadowsinger's shaft, teasing under the head.

“Y-yes, please stick it in, I can't wait anymore…”

Eris rose to his feet, folding Azriel’s leg back, exposing him, and his cock breached his entrance. A loud moan erupted from both of them. Eris stared at his boyfriend’s eyes, and there was only primitive fire burning there; Eris's teeth were gritted as he waited for him to relax.

Azriel exposed his throat to him, and Eris lunged forward, biting his neck as he thrust into him, moaning as the moves became wild. Eris held the back of Azriel’s head and found his mouth, devouring him in a kiss that made him feel like his blood was boiling.

“Do you think you can hold me?” Azriel asked against Eris’s lips, circling his arms around his neck.

Azriel wanted Eris to take him the same way. They had never tried that, and having this male in his arms in such a way, moaning for more… Eris was going to lose it.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he commanded, panting, and Azriel did so.

Eris sustained his weight, pressing him harder against the boulder, kissing him again as his cock went in deeper. Something feral woke in his core as Azriel let out muffled moans against his lips, as he watched those majestic wings spread by Azriel's sides, twitching as the High Lord filled him. Eris drilled in, fucking his boyfriend hard. Contrary to him, Azriel liked it fast, deep, and Eris didn’t restrain himself, unraveling the shadowsinger against the wall.

Azriel climaxed with a loud moan, throwing his head back, and Eris’s cum shot inside him at that teary face, that delirious sound that made him shiver. He closed his eyes for a moment, but he hadn’t calmed down, nor had Azriel. Eris didn’t know what this was, but their cocks were still hard, still needy.

Eris didn’t have time to dwell on that, because Azriel pushed him back and turned, bucking his hips to him and growling, “More. Mount me.”

Oh, Gods… Eris snarled back, seizing his waist and slamming his cock back inside, more primitive now, rocking against Azriel frenetically. He felt like a fucking animal, unable to fight the urge to keep taking that male, and every time the shadowsinger moaned, Eris wanted to work him harder. Azriel grabbed the boulder with a hand to keep himself upright and reached behind with the other, grasping Eris's middle as if to keep their bodies joined. Eris’s arousal had reached a point that pained him, watching Azriel move back against him, completely disheveled, uncaring of how his face might look now. All Eris could think about was stretching his hole and making his boyfriend cum hard again.

“Eris,” Azriel cried out, glancing back at him, “My wings,” he rasped, and the redhead understood.

Eris lowered himself and pressed his chest against Azriel’s back, one of his hands gripping the shadowsinger’s throat as he sucked his neck. “My fucking beautiful Illyrian,” Eris growled and sped his thrusts into him, his other hand trailing the curve of Azriel’s left wing, snarling in his ear when the Illyrian whined, completely at his mercy.

“Yes, there!” Azriel whimpered, and Eris retreated. His arms went under his wings and, warming his hands, he flattened both of them in the internal membrane, making the shadowsinger scream. Azriel’s body trembled as Eris fucked him harder, his cries matching Eris’s own as their bodies collided, the thwack of their hips bouncing against one another.

Eris rubbed his wings from the inside. He knew precisely how to find his weak points, and as if to test their early theory, there was no way Azriel could restrain himself as fire enveloped his cock and pumped him. Eris felt proud of himself as he watched hot gushes splashing on the rocky wall as Azriel came hard, shaking at the force of his orgasm, moaning as Eris roared and spilled into his ass once more.

Eris breathed in deeply, unable to understand how to deal with such a primitive need. Having sex with Azriel before had already been overwhelmingly good, but this? This was different. As their eyes met, Eris saw that Azriel didn’t seem satisfied yet. His own body didn’t relent. As Eris’s cum leaked from between his legs, Azriel turned and grabbed his hand, winnowing them to the fabric spread on the floor.

Eris was stunned by this unparalleled urge to fuck. He bent over him when Azriel lay down and spread his legs for him, folding his thighs against his chest and moaning in a silent request for Eris to continue.

“Fuck, Cupcake. You’re insatiable,” he snarled, and lunging for him, the redhead bit and sucked Azriel’s thighs. Eris licked his cock and cleaned all remaining of Azriel's spill, then sucked him roughly, knowing that soft strokes wouldn't appease Azriel's need. Azriel grabbed his hair and forced Eris's head down, showing him how desperate he was to burn that scorching desire for him. Eris took him in whole, groaning at the harsh grip on his red locks, letting Azriel slam into his mouth. Three of Eris's fingers drilled his hole, and the shadowsinger cried out his name, quivering as Eris found his prostate, hastening his plunges until Azriel shot down his throat.

He could die from giving Azriel pleasure, for the Cauldron’s forgiveness, he wasn’t letting this male go. Not after this. Only he was allowed to see Azriel like this, to make the shadowsinger's eyes roll back as he came again and again.

Eris released his cock, watching the ragged breaths Azriel could manage, and said, “You sexy thing. Look at you, Azriel… You’re mine.”

“I am yours,” Azriel declared. “All I have is yours. Take me.”

Eris growled. He gripped Azriel's cock and held it firm as he inserted himself back and pounded into Azriel's ass, fucking him and watching from above, his eyes devouring Azriel as he drank the view of his ravished body, lost in pleasure.

“Kiss me,” Azriel demanded, and Eris bent, passing Azriel’s legs over his shoulders and grabbing the shadowsinger’s face as they kissed, their tongues battling for dominance, sucking each other, meeting stroke after stroke as they fought for space. Muffled moans left their mouths as they moved against each other, and soon there were rasping teeth and hair pulling as the thrusts intensified. The shadowsinger’s dick had hardened again with all the rubbing, to Eris's delight.

Azriel sucked the curve of Eris’s shoulder and neck, marking his skin, dragging his nails on his back while Eris's cock reached that bump inside him. Eris drowned in his scent, the taste of his skin. There was nothing better than this, than him, the only one he wanted, who had everything at the perfect measure.

Azriel held his own legs back when Eris grabbed the back of his neck with both hands and dove in, going so deep that the shadowsinger seemed smaller under him, with his body bent like that. Instinct had Azriel spread for Eris, let him have at his body as he pleased, and Eris was going mad at that, at that surrender.

“Eris,” Azriel moaned his name, holding his face between his hands. “I love you,” he declared.

Eris moaned and gritted his teeth, bringing Azriel up and making the shadowsinger straddle him. Azriel rounded his shoulders and kissed him slowly and wet, bouncing his hips down on his cock, staring into Eris's eyes with all those beautiful feelings on display.

“I love you, too, baby,” Eris said and kissed him. “You are my everything,” he declared, tunneling his fingers in Azriel’s hair and brushing the other hand on the base of his wings. “Are you cumming with my cock again, love? Are you going to use your boyfriend's cock to pleasure yourself, Azriel? Are you going to take my seed into that gorgeous body of yours?” Eris snarled, his voice like thunder as he watched Azriel so lost to pleasure, riding his cock.

“Yes,” and Azriel was pulling Eris's hair back, speeding up and lunging for Eris’s mouth. He devoured Eris in a kiss, crying out when the redhead held the base of both his wings, ducking deeper, fucking him faster. Eris struck wild, again and again and again, feasting on the shadowsinger’s body, consuming all of him as his cock slammed nonstop into him. Azriel muffled the scream of his release against Eris’s lips, squeezing his dick so hard that Eris spurted, moaning his name, panting hard as he held Azriel’s body atop him, sustaining him by the waist.

They stared at each other, calming their breaths, and Eris said, “You’re perfect.”

Azriel laced a hand around his neck and said, “How long until you’re ready again?”

Eris laughed, his chest blooming with joy. “It’s my turn now, you selfish male,” he taunted. “I promise to fuck you nice and hard later, but I am also aching here. Get that cock back inside me, will you?”

Azriel only smirked. “As you command, High Lord.”

Chapter Text

Azriel winnowed them to Zuria, the small city in the Summer Court where the shadowsinger had made acquaintances. The whole Court would be bustling with preparations for the upcoming festivities in two days for the Midsummer celebration. As they strolled on the beach, quietly appreciating the early morning, Eris couldn't help but steal glances at Azriel, silently admiring his handsomeness.

Three days had passed. The lovemaking in that hot spring had, yet again, changed something between them. They had both surrendered to each other, many, many times, and not only their bodies. The intimacy between their souls now felt different because Azriel knew the truth. He knew about that shameful past and hadn't called Eris weak, hadn't diminished him in any way.

It felt like having his heart bare before a person, all of its sensitiveness and dark corners exposed, and then… having it enveloped by love and acceptance. Eris couldn’t explain the relief he was feeling. It felt like his soul was finally resting after sharing his past with Azriel, floating in a waveless sea, marveling at the beauty of a luminous sky above.

He had said he'd walk away if their relationship didn't make sense for Azriel someday, but he wished he hadn't said it. He would let him go if that was what the male wished, but he was worried for himself. Could he really forget about Azriel, should he decide to end things?

For someone who had never experienced this sort of happiness, it was scarier than ever the thought of these sweet days vanishing, of this male being taken away from him. Eris couldn't remember what his daily life was like before Azriel. He couldn't imagine going back to Autumn without him, moving on when such precious memories had been created.

Eris tightened his hand around the shadowsinger's. Some days, he felt confident and safe about their relationship. In others, this coiling fear spoke louder. He trusted Azriel, but only three and a half months had passed… How could he be so attached to a person when it had taken him years to finally open up to Eddar, to consider being with a male?

He knew Azriel loved him, showed him every day how much their relationship was special, but Eris’s anxiety still bubbled up from time to time. He had learned that good things were always ripped away from him, his feelings could suddenly be twisted and crushed, and his body trembled at imagining his solitary years coming back. He was a different person now, more aware, more certain of what he wanted… But a part of him still wondered if he had given Azriel too much, too soon.

Before they got together, Eris didn’t have to worry about this, because he had no expectations. Now, it was a coming and going between unpleasant, intrusive thoughts and the calm reassurance Azriel gave him. Eris was honestly tired of feeling like this, of his body and mind still not understanding that the past was in the past, that he could enjoy this.

In the distance, as their steps were muffled in the sand, they heard the sound of a guitar solo echoing. Eris felt drawn to it. Such a skilled player, whoever that was. He pulled Azriel by the hand, following the sound as they walked along the shore.

“It’s them,” the shadowsinger commented, pointing to the two figures sitting side by side on the sand. “I didn’t think we’d see them here, and so early.”

“Day off, likely. Let’s greet them, shall we?” Eris said.

They reached closer, and the white-haired male noticed them in a glance. He might have recognized Azriel for his wings, because he waved. The blond by his side stopped playing, watching them approach. But as Eris took a close look at them, just a few feet away…

“Aven…?” He asked, eyes wide with surprise, taking in the white-haired male before him.

Aven’s eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. “Eris! Is that really you? Wow, you look so different!”

Aven grabbed his hand in greeting, and Eris felt the weight of Azriel’s gaze on him as his boyfriend asked, “You know each other?”

Aven looked at him with a warm grin. “Hi, Azriel. We do, actually. When you told us your boyfriend was from Autumn, I’d never have expected it to be Eris!”

“He’s the one I mentioned before,” Eris clarified, releasing Aven’s hand and interlacing his fingers with Azriel’s, since the shadowsinger hadn’t yet smiled, clearly surveying Aven differently. “From the Winter Court’s ball.” He turned back to Aven. “It’s been ten years or so, has it not?”

“Phew, time flies!” Aven replied and looked at the male by his side, the blond. “This is Andras, by the way. My mate.”

Eris smiled, nodding to Andras. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m glad you found your person.”

Aven’s eyes fell on Azriel, then on Eris as he gave them a knowing look. “So have you, it seems. Ahh, this is so nice. I feel so happy for you…”

Eris’s heart warmed at the cheerful voice of the male. He lay his head on Azriel’s shoulder, traveling his free hand along his arm. “Well, aren’t we lucky,” he hummed, and the shadowsinger seemed to relax by his side, loosening the tight grip on Eris’s hand.

“You guys are staying for the festival, I take it?” Andras asked, and Eris nodded. “Have a place to stay?”

“Not yet, I was hoping Azriel’s acquaintances could recommend a nice Inn,” Eris replied.

“As a matter of fact, we can!” Aven said excitedly. “We’ll take you there, come. Our dearest friends manage it, they’ll be delighted to meet you, I’m sure!”

Aven laced Andras’s arm and dragged his mate along the beach, and as Eris and Azriel followed them towards the city, the High Lord glanced at his boyfriend, trying to avoid his lips from curling up.

He brought his mouth close to Azriel’s ear and whispered, “Are you jealous, Cupcake?”

“I’m not,” Azriel murmured, but there was a crease between his brows.

“I want to bite you,” Eris drawled, kissing Azriel’s cheek. Jealousy had been such a toxic thing in his past, made him feel so uncomfortable… Now, all it did was make him want to drag Azriel somewhere else. “I shouldn’t enjoy this, but I love to know you feel jealous of me,” Eris confessed, because in fact, a little bit of ownership wasn’t that bad, not with Azriel, with the respect they shared, the awareness of where the limits were. It made Eris happy because that meant Azriel cared, that he didn’t like to imagine Eris with someone else.

"Of course I do." Azriel looked at him, his expression softening. “Have you seen yourself? You’re too handsome for your own good.”

Eris chuckled, having to shove down the sudden urge to kiss his boyfriend. “Good thing I only have eyes for you, don’t you think?”

Eris’s eyes widened when Azriel did pull him in for a kiss, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Yeah, it’s a good thing, because you’re the only one I can see,” he muttered against his lips. “I’m sorry for how I reacted, I don’t know why I—”

Eris shut him up with another quick kiss. “It’s okay. Aven and I just kissed that one time. I have nothing to hide from you.”

“I know, Aven is a nice person, it’s just that I… I get why you felt attracted to him. I thought you might prefer someone like him, cheerful, not some gloomy mal—” Azriel interrupted himself, eyes wide at the threat of Eris’s hand rising. “Ok, ok, I’ll stop, don’t slap me!”

Eris snorted as he lowered his hand, ready to do precisely that.

“Hey, love birds! Save that for between four walls!” Aven shouted from the street ahead.

Eris shook his head, hooking his arm with Azriel’s, pulling him along. “My broody shadowsinger…” His eyes danced with joy as he looked at Azriel, who averted his eyes to the sky. “How could I let go of my infinite source of entertainment?”

Azriel’s lips only curled up slightly.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Nene, we’re here!” Aven spoke up as soon as they entered a small bistro with a refined, vintage atmosphere a few streets away from the shore.

The wooden tables had a classic charm. The wall color was a rich, deep teal-blue, giving the space a calming, comforting vibe. Azriel already liked the place, especially because there were all sorts of sweet and salty treats displayed in the glass counters. He couldn’t help but think his mother would love it here, that the food looked like something she would cook. The pink roses adorning the corners of the main room and the center of the tables would also be a touch she would add. This place was what Azriel had imagined his mother might have once the war was over, a new life in a beautiful city, doing what she loved most.

His hands started sweating for some reason, and he ended up crossing his arms as they reached the counter. Sadness took a grip on his soul, but he tried his best to keep a neutral face and not let his mood spoil the bright day they could have. His eyes rested on Eris, who looked at the pies on display as if the scent of coffee and candy was practically begging him to have a seat and order a nice breakfast.

“Again?” Answered a silvery female voice coming from inside. “Don’t you have a job, Aven? We saw you yesterday, go pester someone else today, gez.”

Aven reclined against the counter, swinging to look inside towards the owner of that voice.

“I wasn’t speaking to you, Van,” the male dismissed the female. “Call Nene. You have customers.”

“On it. NEDRA!”

Azriel didn’t know whether to laugh or frown at how… loud these people were. They reminded him of some friend of his who couldn't keep his voice low in plenty of situations. His lips curled slightly as Cassian popped up in his mind.

Seconds later, they heard another voice, bright and warm, coming from inside. “Van, how many times have I told you not to yell like that? There might be people sleeping upstairs.”

Aven answered from the hall, “You think she’ll ever be able to keep her voice down, Nene? Vanora is the town’s gossiper, and everyone knows it!”

Two females in simple, floating dresses came into view. Another pair of blond and white-haired, but those two… Vanora, the taller one, had chocolate brown skin, gray eyes, and her white hair was almost the same shade as Aven’s, only it glinted under the light, making it look silver. The teal-blue dress hugged her silhouette, the color suiting her perfectly. The other, shorter by a foot, in a moss green dress, might be Nedra. Her skin was golden-brown, her hair like melted dark gold, and those sparkling eyes in the same color studied Eris and Azriel as she stopped behind the counter.

“Welcome! Who do I owe the honor?” Nedra asked, and Eris moved forward, grabbing her hand and smiling.

“Eris Vanserra, pleasure to meet you,” he said elegantly, pressing a kiss atop her hand.

“You stay away from her, you flirt.” Vanora came forward, pulling Nedra against her and glaring at Eris. “She’s taken!”

“Calm down, Van, it’s not like that!” Aven intervened, and Eris could only blink in confusion.

“Pardon him, he has that effect on people,” Azriel commented, a smirk on his lips as his eyes traveled among the people in the room. “Eris, control your sensual appeal, will you? He’s with me.”

“I didn’t do anything, I was being polite,” Eris protested, but Nedra laughed.

“Van overreacts when it comes to guys, especially ones as handsome as you,” she explained. “And the Autumn High Lord, for that matter! What brings you to our city?”

“Some time off work,” Eris replied, glancing at Vanora, who studied him with curious eyes now, as if intrigued. “I was told your Inn is the best in town.”

“That we are,” it was Vanora who answered. “I doubt you’ll taste food better than Nedra’s. Would you like to see the bedrooms or order something to eat first?”

“You suddenly being so polite won’t raise his opinion on you, Van,” Andras pointed out. “First impressions count.”

“Shut up.” She merely replied, then turned back to Eris. “So?” If he was stunned by the female's bluntness, Eris didn't let it show.

“Eat first. What do you recommend?” Eris asked, following after Vanora as she led him to a nearby round table for four. He took a seat, and Azriel pulled a chair by his side.

“That’s a hard question. I’d start with a cappuccino and her cupcakes, they literally melt in your mouth!”

Eris glanced at Azriel with a seductive smile. “Hmm, that’s precisely what I’m looking for,” he drawled, and Azriel’s cheeks flushed a bit. Did he have to speak to him like that in front of people?

Vanora looked between them, grinning as she understood what was going on. She gave Eris a thumbs-up, tilting her chin in Azriel’s direction and said, “Nice pick.” Azriel wasn't sure if she was referring to him or the cupcakes. “And for you, Batman?”

Eris snorted, covering his mouth as he stared at Azriel shifting in his seat. “I’ll go for a salty pie, please.”

Vanora nodded and headed back to the counter. Aven and Andras joined them at the table.

“Your friends seem nice,” Eris commented, reclining against his chair and crossing his legs. The shadowsinger knew it was unnecessary, but his hand slid on his boyfriend’s thigh and rested there, folding around it. It was so pitiful to feel jealous of Aven, the guy had a mate, for fuck’s sake. Why was he acting like an animal marking his territory when there was no need to reassure himself that Eris was his? Eris didn’t reprimand him, though. His hand fell atop Azriel’s, linking their fingers again. “I like that one,” he said, tipping his chin towards Vanora.

“You’ll find no one as honest as she is,” Andras replied. “I sometimes wonder how she managed to stay alive so long when she has a natural skill of pissing people off.”

Aven nodded, crossing his arms. “And being right about what she says every single time. I have no idea how she knows what is happening around here before anyone else does. I’ve always told her she’s wasted in here. She was born for more than running an Inn. Nedra, too, but Van…”

“Don’t go gossiping about me when I can tell the gossip myself,” Vanora said, reappearing with their orders in hand and setting the plates on the table. She pulled a chair from a nearby table, sitting between Eris and Aven. “And again, what is wrong with speaking my mind?”

Andras raised his hands in defeat. “Nothing.”

“Are you two originally from Summer?” Eris asked, and the silver-haired female looked at him.

“We are. From Adriata, to be more precise. I was the daughter of a noble family, training to inherit my position in the High Lord’s council, and Nedra earned her family’s income by working as a healer at the time. We met by chance one day, when she was called to the palace to craft a new health system idea for the new High Lord. I was appointed to work on that solution with her, and… We found out we were mates. My family wouldn’t accept the bond. You know the same old story, continuing the lineage and all that silly talk about breeding an heir. Being an only daughter put them in a haste, and I would be forced to choose between my position and Nedra. I chose her. However, not long after, during the war against Hybern, her family’s house was hit by the first attacks. No one survived.”

Azriel’s eyes widened as he looked back at the counter, at the cheerful female calmly sweeping the floor. How could she be like that if she had lost all her loved ones? How had she moved on, or most likely, lived with that pain? He felt sorry for her, and his head lowered when he thought that he would need to face the same situation someday soon. Would he be ready for that goodbye?

Eris’s fingers tightened around his, his thumb brushing the shadowsinger’s hand. Eris glanced at him, and Azriel’s eyes glinted at what he saw in those amber depths. I will be there with you when this day comes.

“When the conflict was over, we decided to move out. It was too painful for her to stay there, and there was nothing left for me in Adriata, anyway. So I used all my savings and opened this Inn for us. It has been a calmer life ever since. Well, not that much, since these two busybodies keep coming here all the time.” Vanora glowered, looking at Aven with accusing eyes. “And bring along those noisy kids of yours more often than I have the social skills to deal with.”

“You have kids?” Eris seemed perplexed as he asked, eyes running between Aven and Andras.

“Three boys,” Aven replied, a broad smile full of pride showing on his features. “If you’re staying for the festival, you’ll get the chance to meet them!”

“You might regret that,” Vanora admonished, and Aven scowled at her.

“Don’t badmouth my sons.”

“Badmouth?” Vanora scoffed, pointing a finger at him. “Last time they were here, Kellen was hanging himself on one of the bedroom’s chandeliers, Luai decided to make the wall his blank canvas, and Rami was carving who knows what in the wooden floor. Have you any idea how long it took me to get that bedroom back to a habitable place?”

“They’re kids, they’re curious,” Aven merely shrugged.

“Yeah, well, let them destroy your house then, not mine!”

Azriel got sidetracked in the middle of Vanora and Aven’s argument as his gaze lingered over Eris. The High Lord watched them with a closed smile, his brows slightly knitted, and his eyes… they twinkled with an unknown emotion. What was he thinking about?

“Anyway,” Aven said, turning his attention back to Azriel and Eris. “That’s why I told you she’s wasted here. She’s good at putting people in line, my sons can attest that, but not only that. You should see her cataloging system for customers and products, it’s awesome! I even borrowed the idea for the weaponry warehouse in the City Guard; it saves us a lot of time to keep tabs on what is lent and returned.”

“Is that so?” Eris studied the female, and Azriel was, for the first time, seeing a more analytical side of him. His work skin, it seemed. The shadowsinger wouldn’t deny that it roused him to see Eris concentrated, those fingers tapping on the table as his gaze sharpened. It reminded him of the Eris he knew from his past, during those meetings in the Hewn City. Vanora didn’t balk at his observant eyes, staring at him in open challenge, arching a brow as if to say ‘I dare you to doubt me’.

“Ask along, High Lord. From what I've learned of you, you're quite good at the games of power. You're curious about something.”

“Your boldness is quite unusual. Tell me, in honest words, if you must: how would you make people accept a change of law that legalizes something that was forbidden for centuries? What would you do regarding the prejudice of the conservatives, and the fear of those this law benefits?” Eris didn’t avert his eyes, and everyone focused on Vanora, waiting to see what she would say.

“Explode everything,” Vanora replied, and snorted as everyone’s eyes bulged. “Just kidding. First of all, you need someone neutral to investigate the matter for you, with both parties. Both sides feel uneasy, and you can’t find out for yourself what they truly want. You are the High Lord; they won’t be honest with you unless you prove yourself a trustworthy, reliable person regarding their interests. So I’d gather information using a neutral source and analyse the data. After that, there are a few strategies you could try, but my favorite would be through a change in the culture to make all casts interact, perhaps a new celebration. From all we know of your father, and believe me, I know a lot of Beron Vanserra, your people probably don’t feel like they can trust you. Four years is not enough time to earn their respect and love, so you need to make yourself available, leave the walls of your office, and get to the streets, get to know them, and be among them. There’s a lot you can accomplish by listening actively to what people want. It’s not just about what you or the nobles want to do for your people. Changing the law isn’t enough to prove your intentions; rulers make empty promises all the time. It's just a piece of paper that might not mean anything to those it benefits. It is much more significant when people participate in the decision-making.”

Silence fell, and Eris pondered her words. Azriel knew that look in his eyes. Delight. As if he’d just found a gem in a sea of common, gray rocks.

“Would you be interested in a position on my future inner council if I offered you a seat?” Eris asked, and Vanora’s eyes sharpened on him. “Of course, I’d need a period of testing to make sure I can trust you and we could work well together, if you’d be able to fulfill the role. We don’t know each other, but I get the feeling you wouldn’t dance around what needs to be done. You’d tell me right to my face what I need to hear without coiling from my power. And from what you just said, I think you take into consideration that ruling should be a service to the people, not to the ruler’s own prestige. I have always detested the way the chains of power are in the Autumn Court. I believe we would benefit from having someone like you at the Court’s service.”

Vanora weighed the job offer, and didn’t take long to reply, “I’d need to talk about it with Nedra. If she’s willing, then I would give it a try. It’s been a while since I last had to deal with politics, but mind work is something I enjoy. If she chooses to stay, though, I’ll stay. But you can come visit. I can offer some insights from time to time.”

Eris nodded, offering her a closed smile. “I’d appreciate it. It’s hard to find honest people nowadays, those who speak from the heart.”

Vanora grinned back. “You are different than what I’d imagined, High Lord. It was nice meeting you. Nicer to know you are not after my beautiful mate and that I don’t have to kill you.”

Eris chuckled, crossing his arms and tilting his head towards Azriel. “You’d have to get past him first.” The shadowsinger smirked at Vanora, an arm resting around Eris over the chair’s backrest.

“You think that scares me?” She asked, arching a brow. “I’ve dealt with Andras baring his teeth at my neck multiple times to be impressed by a giant bat.”

Azriel glanced at Andras, suddenly recalling that the male was from the Spring Court. Could he shift into some kind of beast, perhaps?

“See, that’s why I prefer Nedra over you two,” Aven intervened. “She’s the only decent person around here.”

“No one is denying it,” Vanora shrugged. “Nedra probably went into the Cauldron twice when it was time for sweetness and caring. I went in three times for impatience and brutal honesty. The Mother turned her back, so I skipped the ‘being nice’ line.”

They laughed, and then Eris said, “Well, could you show us the bedroom? I’d like that tour I was promised, if you’re free today.”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

It was late at night when they finally got some time alone in their bedroom, exhausted after walking around the city. Azriel was glad they would spend a few days there, for talking with those people had been surprisingly nice. Well, hearing them talk, actually. He had spoken little compared to Eris, Aven, and Vanora, who engaged in conversation about lots of different matters as they strolled through the streets.

He and Andras had kept a step behind, watching their loved ones and exchanging some comments here and there. Azriel had been content in observing Eris; however, he could tell his boyfriend’s mind wandered a few times during the tour. He had caught the High Lord looking up at the sky, then at the building’s roofs, as if he were searching for something.

Now, after a nice bath and delicious dinner, Azriel was sitting on the bed, watching Eris come out of the bathing room in black pants, the white shirt unbuttoned, revealing his abs. The shadowsinger pulled Eris by the wrist once the redhead approached, folding his hands around his waist and kissing the skin along Eris’s abdomen, breathing in hard as Eris groaned.

Azriel wrapped his arms around him and brought Eris to sit on his lap, his thighs straddling him. Eris circled the shadowsinger’s shoulders, grunting as their mouths met in a kiss. Azriel had waited the whole day to be like this with him. He couldn’t explain why, but seeing Eris interacting with people, smiling, being excited about things, did funny things to his chest. Azriel traveled his hands over Eris’s back, pulling him closer, feeling their chests pressing together and the High Lord’s hands on him, teasing the base of his wings.

“If you keep touching me there, you know where this will end, Pumpkin,” Azriel drawled, lowering his head to Eris’s neck, his fingers tangling in his hair as he licked and sucked the curve of his neck.

“Aren’t you tired?” Eris asked, running a hand along Azriel’s face, eyes fixed on him.

“Not enough to deny you naked under me,” the shadowsinger replied, pulling Eris’s waist to him, his hands going down to grip the High Lord’s ass. “But you seem a little off. Is something the matter?”

“I don’t know… I’m feeling so many things that come and go that I can’t quite process everything. Can we just talk tonight?”

Azriel rested his arms around him, looking up. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

“Coming in here, meeting these people, has already been worth it to go on this vacation. But I confess that, during the day, I was thinking that… That I don’t want to go back.”

For someone who had fought for attaining power for centuries, that was quite the statement. However, Azriel could understand him; the weight of the High Lord’s role must feel like too much, especially for Eris, so used to dealing with everything alone, not having people he trusted to share his ideas. The shadowsinger had seen how exciting the talks with Vanora had been for him. Eris liked to discuss with people who didn’t balk at what he was, giving sincere opinions and suggestions.

“Why is that, love?” Azriel asked, kissing his cheek.

“Argh, I feel terrible. I’m selfish, really, for having such an opportunity in my hands, and yet, all that’s crossing my mind is that I wouldn’t mind leading a simple life in a place like this. It's so… calm in here. Peaceful. I've never felt like that.”

“Eris, you still have months of vacation time ahead. You can decide what to do later. Just live the moment now.”

“Yeah, well, I don't have the option to just quit. The only way for me not to be the High Lord is to die. I don't know of a way for the power to shift to someone else without involving death.”

“Do you really want to quit, or is it that you are afraid of what you'll face once you go back?”

Eris went silent for a moment, but their eyes were still locked. The High Lord swallowed hard. “You're observant, aren't you?”

“Comes with the job,” Azriel replied, the left side of his mouth curling up. “What are you afraid of?”

“Of myself. Of what I will become when I go back. Will I be able to fit back into that life? Will I deal with the nobles the same way? It's been three and a half months, but it feels like a year already, for all we’ve lived. I feel like a caterpillar that is afraid to come out of its cocoon, and I don't know what it will look like.”

“Or perhaps this cocoon is what will make you become who you were always destined to be, and haven't been allowed so far. The new version of yourself might be scary, and perhaps you're afraid of the fall with your new wings. But what if you fly? What if your new wings take you to an unexpected place?”

“Did it feel like that when you learned how to fly?” Eris caressed the base of his wing, and Azriel let out a groan of pleasure, kissing Eris's chin.

“Oh, I was scared as hell. It took me a great while to finally launch to the skies because I learned at eleven. I was full of fear and trauma to let my instincts guide me. But the view up there makes it all worth it.”

“Hm… I think I know what I need to do. We might be visiting the Day Court sometime soon. To be honest, what's been bugging me is not my role, I think. There are things I enjoy, I just don't like how it has been done so far. Vanora basically listed things I have already thought about, but was too scared to try, not without some sort of support. Being among common people, with simple lives, has made me realize how enclosed I was in my court, surrounded by nobles and balls and petty gossip. Walking around Zuria today has made me realize I need to change. Vanora is right. I have to go out there. And…” Eris hesitated, sighing. “I have to start relying on people. I can’t do everything by myself, but at the same time, it’s hard for me to trust, to delegate some of my work and be certain the person assigned to it won’t mess it up.”

“Well, you’re not at fault here,” Azriel offered. “You’ve grown up surrounded by vile snakes. And after everything you went through, I think it’s completely understandable you wouldn’t want others to mess with what you fought so hard to make happen. But good people exist. Just like you, I think I’m experiencing the same. I think I had to get out of what I know to see that other possibilities exist.”

“Want to be something other than a spy?” Eris inquired.

“After I help you in the Autumn Court, perhaps.”

“I’m curious as to how you will surprise me.”

Azriel smiled, kissing his cheek. “You anxious for the festival?”

“Of course. I bet it will be fun to jump waves,” Eris said, chuckling. “I’m more excited for the food and music, though. What about you?”

“I’m more excited to watch you during the whole thing.”

Eris’s cheeks flushed a bit. “Why?”

Azriel lifted his chin, pressing a kiss to his lips. “You’re pretty when you’re happy. When you’re using your sharp tongue. When you’re ruminating on a plan. Watching you do anything makes me happy. I could spend the day observing your many faces and getting lost in how beautiful you are.” Eris’s head lowered, the tips of his ears turning red as his hair covered part of his face. Azriel couldn’t help but find him cute. “I thought you’d have a retort for my saying this. Why are you shy?”

“You just got me by surprise…” Eris mumbled, hiding his face in Azriel’s neck, his arms tightening around him. “Spending time with you has made me feel like I’m finally getting a reward for all my suffering… And it feels wrong, sometimes, to be so happy when so many people aren’t, while others are still enduring pain. I used to bury myself in work on this thought. I couldn’t stop because there were so many in need of help, and I could do something to change it in the position I am now. When I tried to rest, I felt guilty. A few hours listening to music would get me anxious, thinking that I should be doing something productive, useful. But I want to change that belief.”

“Things need time to change,” Azriel said. “And I feel the same way. I… I feel it’s wrong to be happy with you, enjoying this, when my mother can’t. In recent years, I didn’t allow myself to enjoy the moments I should have been having fun because she couldn’t, either. I’ve done the same regarding my work. I’ve done things most people could never stomach, because someone had to do it. Sometimes I used to think, what right do I have to be alive after taking so many lives? Why should I pursue happiness when I’ve ended the possibility of others having it?”

“We all have these dualities, in the end,” the High Lord replied. “Right and wrong are relative concepts, not absolute. One thing that I’ve been trying to convince myself of is that I can live my life while also helping others. I am alive as well, and as much as I want to dedicate my time to changing things in Autumn, I owe it to myself to live a good life. Being alive is a gift, being able to eat good food, meeting amazing people, seeing beautiful landscapes… This trip has rekindled my soul in many ways.”

Azriel looked at him as Eris retreated, their eyes locking as they stared at each other from so close up. The shadowsinger sometimes got lost in that gaze, because time was a thing that ceased to exist by Eris's side. It didn't feel like only a few months had passed. It felt like years, for all those experiences were changing both of them. It felt like he knew the male for years as a close friend, and having someone know so much about him, about the depths of his soul, and offer the same invitation to dive into the ocean of his emotions…

Azriel felt a light in his heart, a warm, caressing feeling, followed by that humming melody he sometimes heard around Eris. He lifted Eris in his arms and lay with him on the bed, hugging his boyfriend as they watched each other.

Eris kissed his cheek, and Azriel closed his eyes, hiding his face in the curve of the High Lord's neck. “It has rekindled mine as well, Eris. And I want brighter days by your side.”

Chapter Text

Hello there, beauties!

How have you been? Did you miss Four Seasons? Because I am ready to come back!

Good news!

We'll be returning with the fanfic on Saturday, the 18th, this month!

ACOBT will be finished next week, and I have nailed what I want to happen in the story for all the remaining chapters of Four Seasons!

I'm hoping to welcome you all again for our journey together here, and for the last part of the story coming up! XD

Xoxo,

See you soon!

Fate of Stars