Aurana

Azriel was the one who asked about Elain—and when no one else would act, he was the one who said he’d get her back, not even caring if he would die. Azriel was the one who gently removed her gag, meeting her disbelief with quiet presence—proof that he had come for her. Azriel was the one who brought her back to camp, still carrying her even though he was badly hurt. Azriel was the one who offered Elain his own blade, trusting her with something he had never let anyone else touch. Azriel was the one who took the dish from Elain’s hands and told her to sit so he could take care of it. Azriel was the one who stopped everyone from eating, quietly commanding them to wait until Elain was seated before anyone ate. Azriel was the one who cracked a joke when Elain was upset, bringing back a little light to her eyes when she needed it most.

Antis want to take the series and focus away from the NC and Feysand.

Thats the purpose of Elucien. Feyre and Rhys wouldn’t be apart of their story nor the IC. Instead an elucien story would focus on characters that are more desirable to read by that side of the fandom such as Eris. Instead of the NC you have Day. Feysand are replaced by Helion and his love story with LOA.

Same goes for Gwynriel. A gwynriel story allows more focus on Nesta so her stans can finally feel fulfilled by her story which would be her ruling her own court after saying F-u to Feyre, Rhys and the IC who she is viewed as a victim of.

It takes the narrative away from these characters and couples that were once so loved, that are now hated and overly, unrealistically critiqued.

but the issue is. Sjm loves everything antis hate. She loves Feysand. She loves the IC and the NC. All the unresolved plots always come back to this main group of people that are the centre of the acotar-verse. Gwyn, Eris, Helion and even Lucien are not part of that group no matter how much the other side wants them to be. They’re all side characters aside from Lucien dealing with Koshei.

The story Sjm is setting is all about the Dusk Court, Reforming the prison, discovering the archerons true lineage and the full extent of their potential, dealing with made weapons and troves not to mention the cauldron, its all about fate and destiny bringing 3 sisters together with 3 brothers that match them perfectly so each pair through their strengths can contribute to changing their existing world into something better. Healing what has been broken.

In her own words SJM brought Elain and Nesta back into the main plot of ACOTAR because she realized there was more to them and they each had stories to tell. That decision solidified the future of the series and the centering of the Archeron sisters. Cassian, Azriel and even Mor have been given their own POVs and have pivoted into more critical roles. Three brothers, three sisters and the truth of Mor has been built up since ACOMAF. This isn’t hard to follow.

Rhysand:

Has seen Azriel carry Elain bridal style after rescuing her from Hybern.

Has seen Elain kiss Azriel on the cheek.

Has seen Azriel give Elain Truth-Teller.

Has seen Elain gift Azriel a headache medication after she notes him rubbing his temples so often. Watches him laugh.

Caught them just a half second before their lips met into a kiss.

Has heard "What if the cauldron was wrong?" straight from Azriel's mouth.

Knows that Azriel is 100% ready and willing to fight a death duel for her.

Has to order and threaten him to stay away from her.

Feyre:

Notes how good of a pair they make together.

Questions why they aren’t mated.

Watches firsthand how Azriel notices that Elain is missing from the war camp and risks certain death to bring her back.

Notes Azriel still cradles Elain to his chest once they are safe and returned to the war camp.

Witnesses Elain kiss Azriel on the cheek.

Watches Azriel arm Elain with Truth-Teller.

"I think Elain—Elain would like it, too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.” I smiled at the thought—at how handsome they would be together.

&

She's asks "Why not make them mates?" and "What if that is what she needs?" and "Is there no free will?"

Immediate set up for elriel by the main female character of the series.

Amren:

Clocks Azriel's protectiveness and feelings for Elain.

Notes how riled up he gets and talks directly to him when mentioning Elain looking for the trove.

She smirks into her wine glass when Azriel physically stops Cassian from getting into those steamy potatoes before Elain is able to make it back to the dinner table.

Mor:

Mor watches the space Azriel leaves from when he vanishes into the night after questioning what Elain Saw.

Azriel’s hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body. And without a word, he winnowed away. Mor watched the space where he’d been standing long after he was gone.

Mor was in the vacinity when Madja said, "If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate." HAD to have heard it. She then sits with Feyre when Lucien tries and fails to detect what's wrong with Elain.

Mor confirms the truth when Azriel determines what Elain is and why she's been acting so odd.

Elain turned to Mor, who was now gaping at my sister from her spot beside her on the couch. “Is that what this is?” And the words, the tone … they were so normal-sounding that my chest tightened. Mor’s gaze darted across my sister’s face, as if weighing the words, the question, the truth or lie within. Mor at last blinked, mouth parting. Like that magic of hers had at last solved some puzzle.

Here is where I think Mor senses something between Az and Elain. Does she realize they are mates?

Mor reminds Feyre that Azriel willingly gave up Truth-Teller.

“You honestly think he’d ever give up Truth-Teller?” “He gave it to Elain,” Mor said, admiring a moonstone necklace in the counter’s glass case. “She gave it back,” I amended, failing to block out the image of the black blade piercing through the King of Hybern’s throat. But Elain had given it back—had pressed it into Azriel’s hands after the battle, just as he had pressed it into hers before. And then walked away without looking back. Mor hummed to herself.

Mhmm...

Mor tensed when Azriel approaches Elain.

But I strode to my seat—nestled between Amren and Mor—in time to see Elain say to Azriel, “Hello.” Az said nothing. No, he just moved toward her. Mor tensed beside me. But Azriel only took Elain’s heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, “Sit. I’ll take care of it.”

Did Mor tense up because she was wary of how he would react? She has to suspect something.

Azriel set the potatoes in the center of the table, Cassian diving right in. Or he tried to. One moment, his hand was spearing toward the serving spoon. The next, it was stopped, Azriel’s scarred fingers wrapped around his wrist. “Wait,” Azriel said, nothing but command in his voice.

Mor gaped wide enough that I was certain the half-chewed green beans in her mouth were going to tumble onto her plate. Amren just smirked over the rim of her wineglass.

Cassian gawked at him. “Wait for what? Gravy?”

Azriel didn’t let go. “Wait until everyone is seated before eating.”

Cassian:

Watches Azriel declare he will rescue Elain.

Witnessed Azriel gift Elain Truth-Teller.

Azriel, still limping, merely nudged aside Cassian and extended another option. “This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.”

Elain’s eyes widened at the obsidian-hilted blade in Azriel’s scarred hand. The runes on the dark scabbard. “It has never failed me once,” the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. “Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.” He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.” “I—I don’t know how to use it—” “I’ll make sure you don’t have to,” I said, grass crunching as I stepped closer. Elain weighed my words … and slowly closed her fingers around the blade. Cassian gawked at Azriel, and I wondered how often Azriel had lent out that blade— Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.

Is there when Elain saves his ass from Hybern with Truth-Teller.

Notes Azriel's mood darkens when he mentions something happened to Elain.

Notes that Azriel would rather have Nesta find the trove than Elain. Witnesses his temper rise.

Amren said, “We do not have the time to wait for Nesta to decide. I say we approach Elain tomorrow. Better to have both of them working on it.” Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, “There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.” “But Nesta should?” Cassian growled. Everyone stared at him. He swallowed, offering an apologetic glance to Az, who shrugged it off. Amren drained her wine and said to Cassian, “Nesta has a week. One more week to find the Trove with her own methods. Then we seek out other routes.” She threw a nod toward Azriel. “Including Elain, who is more than capable of defending herself against the darkness of the Trove, if she chooses to. Don’t underestimate her.”

Nesta:

Watches Azriel walk away with Elain to the garden.

Has seen Azriel discover what was amiss with Elain.

Witnessed Azriel carrying Elain bridal style after the rescue.

Witnessed Elain kiss Azriel's cheek.

Witnessed Azriel gift Elain Truth-Teller.

Witnessed Elain use that dagger to stab the king of Hybern in the neck.

Notes Azriel's shadows seem ready to defend Elain when she hurls insults at her.

Notes how tormented he is by Lucien's bond to Elain.

Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get.

Azriel remained in the doorway.

“Why don’t you sit?” She leaned against the doorway beside the shadowsinger. “My shadows don’t like the flames so much.” A pretty lie. She’d seen Azriel before the fire plenty. But she looked at who sat close to it and knew the answer. “Why did you come if it torments you so much?” “Because Rhys wants me here. It’d hurt him if I didn’t come.” “Well, I think holidays are stupid.” “I don’t.” She arched a brow. He explained, “They pull people together. And bring them joy. They are a time to pause and reflect and gather, and those are never bad things.” Shadows darkened his eyes, full of enough pain that she couldn’t stop herself from touching his shoulder. Letting him see that she understood why he stood in the doorway, why he wouldn’t go near the fire. His secret to tell, never hers.

Every member of this court has watched Elain and Azriel interact together.

Every member, except perhaps dear Cassian, likely suspects there could be or knows there IS something more between them.

Yet some people are still gonna tell me they are not the next couple of ACOTAR6?

Even after we have confirmed that Azriel, who's so damn unreadable 99% of the time, HAS feelings for her?

Even after Elain, who's mated to another and shows no interest in him, gives Azriel the green light to kiss her?

Even after we are given CONFIRMATION that the CAULDRON HAS BEEN WRONG TO ITS VERY CORE in Hofas? That it has not been working and weilded as it properly should be?

Here's the thing, when all 5 other main characters take note of what's between the remaining 2 it gets alittle more than suspicious.

It's alarm bells. It's foreshadowing. It's written between the lines.

It reminds me of how despite the way Feyre struggled with Nesta’s bitterness and aggression, the real difficulty was when it came to Elain. She didn’t know what to even do to help because when Elain felt broken she shut down and became an impenetrable shell of herself.

And the greatest part of all this is that the only person able to get through to her then…was Azriel. He was the only one capable of retrieving her from the murky realms she was in.

Elucien or Gwynriel have nothing on Elriel

But when your fans send us messages harassing us, we have the right to respond and match the energy.

is that not literally what she did to rhysand? and y’all eat it up too, using it as evidence as to why rhysand is an abuser and a villian.

Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it.

Part 2

Baddie shadow gang

“You came,” Elain said behind her, and Nesta started, not having heard her sister approach. She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friends.

They appeared through the cracks from slivers of darkness, just as Rhysand had. But while he’d solidified into a tangible form, these faeries remained mostly made of shadow, their features barely discernable, save for their loose, flowing cobweb gowns. They remained silent when they reached for me. I didn’t fight them—there was nothing to fight them with, and nowhere to run. The hands they clasped around my forearms were cool but solid—as if the shadows were a coating, a second skin.

They could have been mutes for all they said to me as they pressed close to my body and we stepped—physically stepped—through the closed door, as if it wasn’t even there. As if I had become a shadow, too. My knees buckled at the sensation, like spiders crawling down my spine, my arms, as we walked through the dark, shrieking dungeons. None of the guards stopped us—they didn’t even look in our direction. We were glamoured, then; no more than flickering darkness to the passing eye.

The two High Fae ignored my demands to be clothed in something else, their impossibly shadowed faces veiled from me, but held my arms firm when I tried to rip the shift off. (…)then—to my horror—began to paint my body. Their brushes were unbearably cold and ticklish, and their shadowy grips were firm when I wriggled. …“How else would I know if anyone touches you?” He approached, and I braced myself as he ran a finger along my shoulder, smearing the paint. As soon as his finger left my skin, the paint fixed itself, returning the design to its original form. “The dress itself won’t mar it, and neither will your movements,” he said

Nails clicked on stone, and my escorts swapped glances before they swung me into an alcove, a tapestry that hadn’t been there a moment before falling over us, the shadows deepening, solidifying. I had a feeling that if someone pulled back that tapestry, they would see only darkness and stone. One of them covered my mouth with a hand, holding me tightly to her, shadows slithering down her arm and onto mine. She smelled of jasmine—I’d never noticed that before. After all these nights, I didn’t even know their names. (…) It was only when I could understand their words that I realized we weren’t merely hiding. (…)My escorts pressed in tighter to me, so tense that I realized they were holding their breath. Handmaidens—and spies. (…) My escort’s shadowy hand clamped tighter around my mouth, and the Attor passed on.(…) “What was that?” I said, looking from one to the other as the shadows around us lightened—but not by much. “Who was that?” I clarified. “Trouble,” they answered in unison.

My old handmaidens from Under the Mountain appeared at my door just past dawn, and I might not have recognized the pretty, dark-haired twins had they not acted like they knew me. I had never seen them as anything but shadows, their faces always concealed in impenetrable night. But here—or perhaps without Amarantha—they were fully corporeal. Nuala and Cerridwen were their names, and I wondered if they’d ever told me. If I had been too far gone Under the Mountain to even care. Their gentle knock hurled me awake—

Nuala and Cerridwen, who had finished setting combs of mother-of-pearl into my hair, took one look at the delicate female and vanished into puffs of smoke. “Skittish things,” Amren said, her red lips cutting a cruel line. “Wraiths always are.” “Wraiths?” I twisted in the seat before the vanity. “I thought they were High Fae.” “Half,” Amren said, surveying my turquoise, cobalt, and white clothes. “Wraiths are nothing but shadow and mist, able to walk through walls, stone—you name it. I don’t even want to know how those two were conceived. High Fae will stick their cocks anywhere.” I choked on what could have been a laugh or a cough. “They make good spies.” “Why do you think they’re now whispering in Azriel’s ear that I’m in here?” “I thought they answered to Rhys.” “They answer to both, but they were trained by Azriel first.”(…) “Rhys has told them time and again not to, but I don’t think Azriel will ever trust me fully. So they’re reporting on my movements. And with good reason.” “Why?” “Why not? I’d be disappointed if Rhysand’s spymaster didn’t keep tabs on me. Even go against orders to do so.” (Had to. Being more loyal to Azriel and going against Rhys’s orders? And being best friends with Elain? Yeah. Gang. Ride or dies. They’re keeping that secret romance under wraps.)

“My sister Elain can convince anyone to do anything with a few smiles.” / I wondered if Rhys’s spymaster often got his information through stone-cold manners as much as stealth and shadows.

Up to the elbows in making some sort of meat pie, the half-wraith gave me a grateful smile and let me do it. A female of few words, though neither twin could be considered shy. Certainly not when they worked—spied—for both Rhys and Azriel.

Nuala laid the ornate lattice crust atop the pie and began pinching the edges together, her shadowy fingers making quick, deft work of it. “It’ll be nice to have a white Solstice,” she said, voice lilting and yet hushed. Full of whispers and shadows.

The two handmaiden-spies instantly bowed to Rhys, and Elain- there was a slight sparkle in her brown eyes. / (earning a blush from Azriel and a grateful smile from Elain—and no shortage of scowling from Amren. But something in me eased at that laughter, at the light that returned to Elain’s eyes.🥹)

Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”/ Azriel stepped out of a shadow. “What is that,” he hissed.

“Don’t,” Elain said flatly, starting once more into a walk, veils of steam drifting past her shoulders from the roasted rosemary potatoes in her hands, as if they were Azriel’s shadows.

Elain spoke from the doorway, having appeared so silently that they all twisted toward her, “Using me.”/ Azriel slammed into the snow, sending it flying like water from a puddle. He’d flown in so silently, I hadn’t even heard the beat of his wings.

“Elain was the only one who guessed. She caught me vomiting two mornings in a row.” She nodded toward Azriel. “I think she’s got you beat for secret-keeping.”

“Nesta never spoke of it afterward,” Elain said. “I just observed.” Nesta was wrong, Cassian realized, to think Elain as loyal and loving as a dog. Elain saw every single thing Nesta had done, and understood why.

“You came,” Elain said behind her, and Nesta started, not having heard her sister approach. She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friends. 🗡️