I do believe the whole point of Azriel and Elain is them choosing each other despite a bond already bestowed upon Elain. But I also wholeheartedly believe they are true mates, not only because of the clear evidence of their compatibility, but the actual signs SJM has planted. Every single Elriel interaction is under a spotlight. Everything they do or say means something.
Rhys straightened. "You'd—make me food?"
"Heat," I said. "I can't cook."
It didn't seem to make a difference. But whatever it was, the act of offering him food... I dumped some cold soup into a pan and lit the burner. "I don't know the rules," I said, my back to him. "So you need to explain them to me."
He lingered in the center of the cabin, watching my every move. He said hoarsely, "It's an... important moment when a female offers her mate food. It goes back to whatever beasts we were a long, long time ago. But it still matters. The first time matters. Some mated pairs will make an occasion of it—throwing a party just so the female can formally offer her mate food... That's usually done amongst the wealthy. But it means that the female... accepts the bond."
Nesta considered. Then pulled something out of her pocket. A small biscuit, swiped from a tray in the birthing room. "Then here. Food. From me to you, my mate. That's the official ritual, isn't it? The sharing of food from one mate to the other?"
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."
Elain's hands remained in midair, as if the ghost of the dish remained between them.
I need everyone to understand sjm chose to write this specific scene and that specific line, knowing full well what a female offering a male food means regarding a mating bond. The line was so intentional.
The word amiss is used 6 times in acowar. 4 of those times is about Elain, (the 5th not related to her directly but she was mentioned in the very next sentence.)
"It's complex spell work— a loophole through the magic that binds the wall."
"And it implies," Mor said, frowning deeply, "that something might be amiss with the Cauldron."
"What I mean," Madja said at last, sizing up Nesta, then me, "is that I can find nothing wrong with her. Her body is fine—too thin and in need of more food and fresh air, but nothing amiss. And as for her mind... I cannot enter it."
The ancient healer jerked her chin toward Lucien. "See what he can do. If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it's a mate."
"He will try. And if he doesn't find anything amiss, we'll consider bringing another healer."
"We're the ones who need ….." Azriel trailed off. "A seer," he said, more to himself than us. "The Cauldron made you a seer."
Talk of loopholes in bond magic, the Cauldron being compromised, the mating bond being the thing that bridges souls together to sense what’s wrong. Only for Azriel to then discover Elain is a Seer, and for the Cauldron’s dark tampering be confirmed several times over
But the bond, the bridge between us ... it was a howling void. A raging, dark tempest.
Madja said to my sister, as if she were a small child, "The mating bond. It is a bridge between souls."
I didn't dare ask if he was trying to get into her head, or if he was feeling a bond similar to that black adamant bridge between Rhys's mind and my own. If a normal mating bond felt wholly different.
I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection... that knife.
Finally awake enough to be coherent, I lowered the shield of black adamant guarding my mind and cast a thought down the soul-bridge between me and Rhys.
The constant repetition of bridge/mate bond/soul bond is a VERY HUGE INDICATOR that Elain and Azriel have that soul-connection, have a bridge between them, have all the makings of a bond without actually having one. The elements that truly matter are there for Az and Elain. It’s only the bond to Lucien that is in the way of it. Madja gives several very clear statements regarding the bond and what it is, what it should do, how it should work. Only for A) Azriel to have naturally done those very things a mate would do without anyone having to tell him and figured out what was happening to her, and B) Azriel and Elain then directly described as having a bridge of connection between them mixed in with beautiful, detailed imagery of them together in a very important scene. Their scenes aren’t scarce, but they’re rare enough that every single minute detail/wording sjm puts into them holds a heavy purpose to their relationship and foreshadowing.
I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection... that knife.
Elain's hands remained in midair, as if the ghost of the dish remained between them.
How Lucien withstood it, I didn't know. Not that he'd shown any interest in bridging that gap between them.
Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them.
Things are always described as being between Elain and Azriel—
A blend of light and dark
A bridge of connection (Truth-Teller)
The only thing specifically described in the same way for Lucien and Elain is calling the bridge between them a gap.
Elain and Az are a blend of themselves met in the middle, they share a bridge of connection, they share charged energy, and they share a symbolic metaphor of something that should have been between them but isn’t. The “ghost of a dish,” is to allude to the bond that should be there. But even despite it, the moment is still there. They are still there, still drawn to each other, still on the path to colliding. Az and Elain have things between them, while Elain and Lucien have nothing.
SJM’s “If anything can sense something amiss, it’s a mate” and “as if the ghost of dish remained between them” had glaring implications when considering how things played out and what we know about the mating bond. Those were the obvious indicators.
But for fun, here’s looking deeper into it:
They are always “bridging the gap”
Azriel arrived first, no shadows to be seen, my sister a pale, golden mass in his arms.
Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm.
"I can help her," said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand.
Then Azriel, gently taking Elain's hand in his own, as if afraid his scars would hurt her.
Azriel scooped up Elain, looping her bound arms around his neck. "Hold tight," he ordered her, "and don't make a sound."
Azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. "Are you hurt?"
The gray light of morning had broken over the world, mist clinging to our ankles as we headed into that camp, Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest. He dripped blood behind him the entire time—
Rhys lunged for Azriel, taking Elain from him and gently setting my sister down. Azriel rasped, swaying on his feet, “We need Helion to get these chains off her.” Yet Elain didn’t seem to notice them as she rose up on her toes and kissed the shadowsinger’s cheek.
He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. "It will serve you well."
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.”
Elain closed the distance, and her breathing quickened as she again paused, now a scant foot away. She extended the wrapped gift, her hand shaking. "Here." Az tried not to look at his scarred fingers as they took the gift.
Azriel let his shadows whisk away the box as she said softly, "Put it on me?" His head went quiet. But he took the necklace, opening the clasp as she exposed her back, sweeping her hair up in one hand to bare her long, creamy neck.
Azriel's fingers lingered at her nape, atop the first knob of her spine. Slowly, Elain pivoted into his touch. Until his palm lay flat against her neck. It had never gone this far. They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching.
Elain shuddered, drifting closer. So close one deep breath would brush her breasts against his chest.
His stomach twisted as he pulled his hand from her hair and stepped back. Forced himself to say, "This was a mistake.”
What’s forced is them forced apart
They are not bridging the gap
As Lucien took off his jacket, kneeling before Elain. She cringed away from the coat, from him—
I just strode to him and threw my arms around his neck, even if it wasn't the embrace he was hoping for.
I spared Lucien the torment of debating whether to touch her, and linked my arm through his as I began to walk away,
As far as I knew, he hadn't come within touching distance since the aftermath of that final battle.
He hadn't mentioned Elain, or his proximity to her. Elain had not asked him to stay, or to go.
Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get.
Elain had already departed with Feyre, claiming she had to be up with the dawn to tend to an elderly faerie’s garden. Cassian didn’t exactly know why he suspected this wasn’t true. There had been some tightness in Elain’s face as she’d said it. Normally when she made such excuses, Lucien was around
