Archive of Our Own ^beta

//one year after aCoSF
“Eris?” Azriel called out to his Mate as he stood awkwardly at the doorway of the cave he had called home for the past four centuries. The Autumn Heir had invited (demanded) that Azriel be there tonight, even though it was Starfall and his entire family was celebrating Nyx’s first starfall in the House of Wind. No matter, seeing his brothers with his mates would only ignite the envy he hated, for they could proudly walk with their mates by their sides, while the Spymaster had to snarl hateful curses at his mates in public and only soothe him in the shadows. “Where are you, my darling?”

He spotted Eris in the main room by the warmth of the fireplace, flipping the page of the smutty book Azriel brought him from the Library under the House of Wind while absent-mindedly rubbing his smokehound- Cinder’s belly. “Cauldron above, Eris, what do you need?”

His mate’s head tilted up to meet his gaze. “Oh, Az, you’re here already,” He had to say, Eris seemed to be in a great mood, possibly because Beron had left for the continent for over a month. The Heir graced Azriel with one of his rare, genuine smiles that lit up like the hearth. “I want to see Starfall.”

“I-Rhys might sense your presence- you’re the Autumn prince, and you’re not allowed to even step foot inside Velaris,” Azriel sighed, sitting down next to Eris.

“Well, the Mother gifted you the shadows for a reason,” Eris pouted (which Azriel would find adorable, but he would deny it until the day he died), while letting Azriel’s shadows weave around those slender fingers. Sly bastards, they had grown way too close to his mate, scheming together. “And I am your mate, right?”

Fuck. Eris made good points, damn the part of the Heir that was the courtier. “Fine, you win, my love,” He grumbled reluctantly, holding out a scarred hand, shadow stepping to the rooftop of the apartment building he had resided in for the past 500 years, his mate’s pale, perfect hand clutching his own tightly.

“I can never get used to shadow-stepping,” Eris shuddered, before dropping his head back to admire the night sky. “Guess the rumours are true. This place truly is mesmerizing. I get why your High Lord decided to shield this place and leave the rest of us to rot,” Azriel casted a sidelong glare at him, and he dropped the topic.

“It is beautiful, I know. Sometimes, I still look up at it and wonder how the Mother created such a beautiful, unmarred thing in this cruel world,” the Shadowsinger pulled his mate down so he sat beside him, legs dangling over the edge.

“You better catch me if I fall,” the Heir tilted his chin up in mock-haughtiness, though the act was cut off as he peered down the the children playing with lanterns, laughing happily, and the line between his eyebrows creased in confusion. “The children… they’re laughing..?”

“Lucien said that’s as well,” The Day court Heir and his relationship was way better now that they sorted out the miscommunication between Elain, and Azriel may-or-may-not have told Lucien that he and Eris were dating for centuries now. Obviously, Eris was slightly mad about this, but he softened up eventually, and Azriel’s and Lucien’s newfound friendship went both ways- giving Lucien something to blackmail his brother (playfully) about, and Az now knew about all of Eris’ childhood endeavors. “The children in Autumn laugh as well. I heard them when I was spying.”

“Yes, but not as joyfully, this is pure, unbridled excitement,” Eris cocked his head. “I would like my Court to be like that one day. And stop being so close to my brother.”

“Jealous, are we?” The Spymaster teased, grinning. “Look, it’s starting,” Sure enough, beautiful beams of light shot down from the heavens, twirling and soaring. “Did you know they’re actually souls migrating? Exquisite, aren’t they, my heart?”

“Not as exquisite as you, my soul,” the redhead grinned cheekily as Azriel batted at Eris with a roll of his eyes. “Souls. Guess thats why they glow so brightly,” his eyes turned dreamy, and, not for the first time, Azriel wished he was as talented an artist as Feyre was, for he wanted to capture his mate like this- unguarded and relaxed, with the stars reflected in his amber eyes.

They stayed like that for a while, silence unbroken except for the occasional gasps from Eris. If this yearly celebration was so magical to Azriel after all these years, what would his mate be feeling, seeing the souls swirling around for the first time in his near-immortal life? The trail of thought died down as a yelp sounded from his right, and he turned to see Eris with a smudge of spirit star on his cheekbone.

Azriel let loose a breathless laugh. “My mate of Autumn, touched by the stars themselves,” Eris smiled back at him, a blush creeping up that pale throat.

“That sounds oddly poetic for a brute,” the insult was tampered down by the shine in those fiery eyes. Another spirit-star landed on top of his eyes brow, illuminating those eyes that haunted Azriel’s dreams.

“So do you Illyrians know how to dance, or are you as brutish as they say?” The question came out of nowhere, the redhead’s full lips turning upwards at the corners.

“Of course I do, I’ve been to more courtly gatherings than you think, thank you very much,”

“Then dance with me,” Eris stood up, pulling the Shadowsinger onto his feet beside him. “I’ve seen you waltz with Lady Death.”

“Oh please don’t mention that,”

“You and the General looked so jealous, maybe because my dancing skills are unrivaled,” Eris’ eyes crinkled at the corners, and Azriel couldn’t resist the smile sneaking up.

“Shut the fuck up, love,”

“As long as you dance with me, Shadowsinger,”

“… fine. But don’t you want music?”

“You’re a Shadowsinger, right?” A nod accompanied by a roll of those hazel eyes that glimmered like the Autumn trees. “Then sing,”

The sentence was so much like what Gwyn had asked Az a few months back, that he was slightly taken aback. Now that he looked more closely, the hair, the shape of those eyes. Nevermind. He was here with his mate, and he would enjoy every moment.

“You’re insufferable,” the Shadowsinger groaned.

“You love me,” The Heir retorted with a cheeky grin the Inner Circle never saw.

“I’ve never done it in front of people. Sing, I mean. I only normally sing to my shadows, or when I’m alone,” Azriel admitted, fidgeting with one of the golden rings on Eris’ fingers.

“I’m your mate, doesn’t that give me privileges?” Eris lifted their joined hands to his plush lips and kissed the Spymaster’s scarred hands tenderly.

“You can’t keep using the same argument to get what you want,” Azriel humphed, though he blushed.

“It’s works, so you can’t blame me, my love,”

And since Azriel had no hope of ever winning an argument against such a pretty face, he sang, and Eris pulled him into a dance, under the stars cascading above them.

//a few hours later

They danced for what felt like an eternity, stopping only when the gush of spirit-stars faded into a trickle. They sat, Eris’ head rested on Azriel’s shoulder, happily dangling his legs over the edge of the terrace like a child. How could he not love the perfect male sitting besides him?

“Oh and Azriel?” Eris sounded nervous, oh shit, did he do something wrong? “There’s another reason why I asked for you to bring me here,” he rummaged through his coat pocket, emerging with a velvet ring box the size of his palm. “Open it, love,”

Azriel opened it, and almost dropped the entire box. Tears threatened to spill over. “Rings, cauldron, fucking rings.”

“Fae with no mate-bond often choose marriage, though I’m sure you know this. In Autumn tradition, engaged couples wear it on their left ring-finger, because they believe it contains the vein that leads straight to the heart, but I want to build my own traditions alongside that one. Consider this an engagement, a bargain, a vow, from me to you. A promise that one day,” Eris swallowed thickly. “One day, Beron will be gone. One day I can tell my family about you..”

“You literally kissed me right in front of Sylas,” Azriel pointed out.

“Shut up, my mate, I’m trying to be sentimental here,” Eris glared at his mate. “One day, we can tell your family. One day we can walk side by side, proudly, and I can call you my mate- fuck, as soon as that old bastard of a High Lord dies, I’m going to write ‘Azriel is my mate <3’ with fire in the sky. One day, I’ll be able to make an entire new throne for you, and make you my High Lord, I don’t care about the fucking political problems,”

“Your… high lord? But-“

“I don’t care. Do you think Rhysand is the only one who is capable of breaking centuries-old tradition?” Eris scoffed. “I’ll burn down this entire world and myself for you, my dear.”

“That’s if I don’t smother it with shadows first,” Azriel shot back as he slipped the engagement band onto Eris’ left ring finger, and Eris slipped the onyx ring onto Azriel’s. “I love you, my heart.”

“I love you, my soul.”

As he ran his fingers through his mate’s soft curtain of hair, the warmth of the fireling seeping into his frozen heart, the combined scents of cedar and cinnamon swirling around the air, stars still glimmering aspens playing, he knew he might be delusional, but he could swear the bond grew a bit brighter, a bit more stronger, as if the stars above and the Mother smiled down upon them.