NinaD.

✨ THEY’LL BE CALLING ME ROYALTY ✨

Azriel x Gwyn Story fanfic

SUMMARY: Gwyneth Berdara risks everything: her light, her song, her life.. to save Prythian, to save them. But for the shadowsinger, there’s one truth he can’t outrun: He can survive war, but he can’t survive losing her.

Content warning: Battle scenes, emotional angst, mention of death, recovery from trauma, a little smut.

THEY’LL BE CALLING ME ROYALTY

PART 4

There was nothing but light.

It surrounded her, wrapped around her like a cocoon. Weightless. Peaceful. For the first time in so long, she felt no pain. No aching muscles, no exhaustion dragging her down, no war raging in her bones.

Just… quiet.

A hand brushed hers. Familiar. Soft.

Gwyn turned, breath catching as her sister smiled at her.

Catrin.

Her black hair glowed in the endless light, her features untouched by the horror that had stolen her away. Gwyn’s throat clenched. She had forgotten what she really looked like, beautiful, without the blood, without the terror.

Without the last moments they had shared.

“Gwyn,” Catrin whispered, eyes brimming with love. “You’ve been so brave.”

A sob wrenched from her. “I—I tried.”

“You did more than try.” Catrin squeezed her hand. “You lived.”

Lived.

Yes.

She had clawed her way through the darkness. Had fought to survive, to heal, to be something more than the broken girl who had screamed beneath bloodied hands.

And now… now, it was over.

She could rest.

Gwyn exhaled, letting her body drift toward Catrin’s warmth.

But something held her back.

A whisper. A pull so deep in her chest that it stole her breath, that made her hesitate, even as Catrin smiled and held out her arms.

Wait… not just a pull.

A tether.

It ached, a raw, desperate thing, reaching for her through the light, calling her back.

Gwyn.

A plea.

Gwyn, come back to me.

Her heart stumbled.

Azriel.

His voice, ragged and broken, wrapped around her like those shadows she had grown to love, like the wind before a storm, fighting to bring her back.

She turned, eyes darting through the endless white, searching and searching…for the bond.

Fraying at the edges.

Begging her.

Screaming for her.

She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling it pulse beneath her ribs. Feeling him. His grief, his rage, his terror, as if he had been trapped in this limbo beside her, ripping at the edges of his soul to get to her.

Catrin's fingers brushed her cheek, turning her attention back to her. "It's your choice, Gwyn."

Her choice.

The sister she had lost.

The mate who refused to lose her.

One was waiting.

One was begging.

Gwyn swallowed hard.

And then she took a step back.

Catrin’s eyes softened, pride flickering in their depths. “You were always meant to choose life.”

Gwyn squeezed her hand, one last time. “I love you.”

And then the light shattered.

---

Pain came first.

A slow, dragging agony in every muscle, every bone. A dull, pulsing throb at the back of her skull.

And then… a voice.

Low and rough, threaded with rawness and warmth, like velvet laced with shadow. Singing.

The words were distant, foreign in her haze, slipping through her mind like mist. She couldn’t understand them, not yet, but the melody wove around her, soft and fragile, as if it was the only thing anchoring her to this world.

Gwyn forced her lashes to flutter open, wincing at the dim candlelight. Her body felt frail, weak, a hollow shell of what it had been.

Where is…

A shadow moved at the edge of her vision, leading her eyes to Azriel.

Seated beside her. Shadows curled around his shoulders, but they were stagnant, lifeless.

And his face…

Gwyn’s heart fractured.

He looked wrecked.

Dark smudges clung beneath his hazel eyes, his jaw covered in the beginnings of a beard. His hands, usually so steady, so capable, were gripping her blanket like he might fall apart if he let go.

Like he already had.

Her fingers twitched.

The movement was so small, so fragile…

But Azriel snapped.

His breath hitched stopping the song, his entire body going still. And then he was moving, his hand grasping hers, bringing it to his face, pressing his lips to her knuckles with a shuddering breath.

“Gwyn.”

She tried to speak, but her throat was raw, her body so exhausted.

Azriel pulled back just enough to look at her

And that was what shattered her.

The break in him.

Because Azriel never showed emotion. Never let it spill past those careful walls, never let himself fall apart.

But now, his eyes were bright, his throat bobbing as if he couldn’t breathe, his hands gripping hers like a lifeline.

Like if he let go, she might disappear…

Her lips parted, but before she could try to say anything again, his voice broke through the silence, raw and shaking.

“Don’t you ever do that again.”

The shadows curled tighter around them, an extension of him, trembling with the force of his words.

Gwyn’s chest ached.

Azriel exhaled harshly, shaking his head. “I—I lost you.” His jaw clenched, his entire body shaking. “You—you left me.”

A tear slipped down his cheek.

Gwyn reached up weak, slow and wiped it away.

Azriel’s eyes closed, his breath catching, leaning into her touch like it was the only thing tethering him to the world.

“I’m here,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

His fingers tightened around hers. “You nearly weren’t.”

Gwyn swallowed hard.

Azriel let out a ragged breath, pressing his forehead to hers, as if needing to feel her, to prove to himself that she was real. That she was alive.

“You saved them,” he murmured, his voice still raw. “Nesta. Emerie. Cassian. Rhys. Feyre. All of them.” His throat bobbed. “You turned the tide, Gwyn. We won.”

A tear slipped down her cheek.

Azriel caught it with his thumb.

She had done it.

But at what cost?

Azriel pulled back just enough to look at her again, his gaze burning.

“But I need you to promise me something,” he whispered.

Gwyn blinked up at him.

“Never again.” His voice cracked. “Never again, Gwyn. You can’t do that to me.”

His reckless Valkyrie.

Gwyn’s heart ached.

She swallowed hard, her fingers curling around his.

“I promise.”

Azriel exhaled, like the weight of the world had finally, finally lifted.

But he didn’t smile.

He just looked at her.

Like she was something impossible. Like she was everything.

And then, so softly she barely heard it…

“I thought I lost you.”

Gwyn’s chest ached. She reached for him again, her fingers weak, trembling, but still there.

Azriel rested his head in the hollow of Gwyn’s neck, breathing her in, feeling her warmth.

Still alive.

Gwyn let her eyes flutter closed, letting herself sink into the quiet between them. Into the space where words weren’t needed, where it was just him and her.

Her lips parted once more, her voice barely above a whisper, fragile but filled with something new.

“You were… singing.”

Azriel stilled, his breath catching again, as if the words had pierced something deeper than grief. He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, his own filled with raw emotion.

“I didn’t know how else to keep you here,” he whispered, his voice thick with everything he couldn’t say. His thumb brushed over her knuckles, reverent and shaking. “So I sang… because you always asked me to. And I needed you to hear me.”

A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, but her lips curved, just slightly.

“I heard you,” she breathed.

Azriel let out a shuddering breath and in the silence, in the slow, uneven rhythm of their hearts, she gave him the only truth that mattered.

“I’m here.”

Azriel’s fingers curled tighter around hers.

Not letting go.

Note: The part of the song where I imagine Gwyn's moment starts right at minute 2:00, where you can feel the tension and the power of the lyrics. I hope you like it :)

PART 2

THEY’LL BE CALLING ME ROYALTY

PART 3

Cause I'm taking the world, you'll see

The first rays of dawn crept over the horizon, spilling pale gold light across the camped land. But in Azriel’s tent, there was only warmth. Only the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her palm, his arm wrapped around her waist, anchoring her to him even in sleep.

Gwyn lay there, memorizing every detail. The feel of his body curled around hers, the scent of cedar and night-chilled wind, the quiet hum of his shadows draped across them both.

She traced him with her eyes… the strong line of his jaw, those dark lashes resting against his eyes and his mouth, usually pressed into a hard line, was soft now in sleep.

Mother, how beautiful he is.

It stole her breath.

Not just the sharp cut of his features or the way his muscles tensed even in rest. But the male beneath it all… who had saved her, trained her, believed in her when she hadn’t believed in herself. The male whose scarred hands had held her like she was made of starlight.

How could someone look like this? she wondered, her heart fracturing. How could someone be this beautiful and not even acknowledge it?

And she was about to leave him.

A tremor ran through her, but she smothered it. There was no room for fear now. She had made her decision.

Slowly, carefully, she untangled herself from his grasp, her breath hitching when he shifted, brow furrowing like he could already sense the loss. She reached for his face but stopped herself.

If you touch him again, you won’t leave.

Instead, she turned to the dark wisps of shadow coiling at the edges of the tent, watching her. They knew her now, had come to listen to her, even sought her out when Azriel wasn’t paying attention. And now, they stirred, sensing something was wrong.

“Not tonight,” she whispered. “Please.”

They curled tighter, hesitant.

“Let him sleep,” she pleaded. “Just this once.”

A pause.

Then, they sank into the darkness, disappearing into silence.

Gwyn exhaled, shoulders shaking, and turned away.

---

She moved through the darkness, the wind whispering through the trees, the distant hum of battle drums rolling like a storm on the horizon. Her body was steady, but inside… inside, she was unraveling.

Because it wasn’t just the ones she loved she was walking away from.

It was her chosen family.

Nesta and Emerie, the sisters she had found in pain and in healing.

Rhys and Cassian, the brothers who had given her a place in their world.

Feyre, who welcomed her with open arms, who trusted her with Nyx every time she visited the River House, as if she belonged.

Mor, who made her feel fierce and beautiful in ways Gwyn never thought she could be.

Lucien, who watched her spar with knowing eyes, offering quiet support without expectation.

Elain, who, even after everything, still offered her friendship in quiet moments of tea, never resenting her for what had never truly been hers.

And Az… her savior, her trainer, her friend. Her lover. Her mate.

Gwyn closed her eyes, pressing a fist to her chest.

She kept walking.

As she approached the edges of the camp, her path crossed with Rhysand’s. His violet eyes met hers in the dim pre-dawn light, and for a heartbeat, he didn’t say anything.

Then… just a nod.

Small. Simple. But it held everything.

Trust. Respect. Gratitude.

I believe in you, it seemed to say.

Gwyn swallowed hard, nodded back, and kept moving, reaching the battlefield just as the sun threatened to break the horizon. Koschei’s forces loomed ahead, an endless tide of darkness waiting to crush them.

Gwyn didn’t stand alone.

The Night Court’s army was behind her…wounded, weary, but standing. Their faces were drawn, their breaths ragged, but they watched her with something fierce in their eyes.

Hope.

She stepped forward, placing herself at the center, her heart pounding like a war drum.

The wind howled around her, ruffling her copper hair, carrying the distant cries of the wounded, the dying.

A quiet breath, and then she whispered into the stillness of her mind.

Rhysand.

His voice came instantly, tight with something that sounded like grief.

Gwyn…

Tell him… She swallowed hard. Tell him I wasn’t afraid.

She didn’t wait for his answer.

She slammed her mental shields up, building a wall so thick, so impenetrable, that no one could reach her now.

Not Rhys.

Not Azriel.

Her heart clenched, but she forced herself forward.

And then Gwyn began to sing.

The first words of a strange, ancient tongue left her lips, soft as a whisper, sharp as a blade.

“…‘Til the battle’s won, ‘til kingdom come,
Ohh, ohh, ohh, I’ll never run…”

Her voice grew stronger with every word, the magic swelling, pulling, unraveling the light around her… too bright, too fierce, a wildfire she couldn’t contain.

“Best to give me your loyalty.”

Her eyes snapped open, going stark white, and the world shook.

The battlefield trembled beneath her feet, the sky itself seeming to shudder as a wave of light erupted from her, sweeping over the enemy lines.

Koschei’s soldiers froze, their bodies rigid, weapons slipping from trembling hands.

Then, one by one, they turned.

Turned on each other.

Turned on the dark masters they had once obeyed.

But Gwyn could feel it.

The ripple.

The exact moment when the balance shifted.

Their army didn’t hesitate.

Good, they took the chance... now she just have to hang in there a little longer.

So Gwyn kept singing.

“‘Cause I’m taking the world, you’ll see…”

The power surged through her, sinking its claws into her bones. She felt… felt how wrong it was, how she was using it for something it was never meant for.

Her body burned.

Her soul screamed.

But she didn’t stop.

“They’ll be calling me, calling me…”

Then a pulse against the bond she had locked away.

A faint, desperate call.

Azriel.

It throbbed beneath her ribs… not words, just feeling.

Panic.

Fear.

A pounding in her head, in her chest… not her own.

Her knees buckled slightly, but she straightened, her voice rising above the chaos.

She couldn’t turn around.

She wouldn’t.

Instead, she looked ahead… to the creatures of shadow and nightmare, to the darkness she was determined to crush.

“They’ll be calling me royalty.”

A chorus of shrieks and howls filled the air as the battlefield erupted into chaos.

She had done it.

She had turned the tide.

But her body, her bones, her mind…

The strain. The unraveling. It was like fire from within, burning her... its own light against her, consuming her.

It was too much.

Too strong.

She staggered, the edges of her vision blurring, the weight of the song still tearing from her throat even as her mind fractured.

She was slipping.

Falling.

The world spun.

She felt it before it happened… her knees giving out, the song cracking in her throat, the darkness rushing in to claim her.

And then…

Nothing.

PART 1

THEY’LL BE CALLING ME ROYALTY

“Best to give me your loyalty”

PART 2

Azriel was pacing his tent, too restless to sleep, shadows curling around his shoulders like a cloak. He couldn’t shake the memory of her face, the determination in her eyes, the way she had looked at Rhysand before she left.

He knew that look.

Knew she was up to something.

The tent flap rustled.

And then she was there.

Azriel froze, breath catching as she stepped inside.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended.

She met his gaze, unflinching. “I had to see you.”

His jaw clenched. “Gwyn, about today…”

“Don’t.” She shook her head, closing the space between them. “Just… don’t.”

He stared down at her, every instinct screaming to pull her close, to keep her safe. “You’re not doing it. Whatever you and Rhys…”

“Azriel.”

His name was a whisper, a plea. Her hand came up, resting against his cheek.

The touch was so gentle, so unexpected, it stole his breath.

“For one night,” she murmured. “Can we not talk about nightmares, or battles, or risks?”

He swallowed hard. “What do you want to talk about?”

A small, sad smile. “Us.”

And then she kissed him.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t hesitant. It was desperate. Fierce. A battle in its own right.

Azriel groaned, deep and guttural, and pulled her closer.

She was fire in his arms, all sharp edges and unrelenting strength, and he had never wanted anything more. And here she was, pressed against him, breathing his name like it was the only word that mattered.

Still, he hesitated.

She felt it.

Felt the way he stilled, the way he braced himself, waiting for her to change her mind.

She pulled back, just enough to look at him.

Her fingers traced the scarred skin of his hands, reverent, tender. “I trust you, Azriel,” she whispered. “With everything I am.”

His throat bobbed.

She ran a hand through his hair, cradled his face between her palms, her teal eyes burning into him. “I choose you.”

A shuddering breath left him.

And then…

It snapped.

The bond.

It was undeniable, unstoppable… a force that roared through him like wildfire.

His eyes widened in shock.

So many years. So many centuries of longing, of chasing the wrong answers, of looking everywhere but where the truth had always been.

Right in front of him.

Longing for the one who would see him, truly see him. Who would fight beside him as an equal, who would meet his shadows with her light and refuse to be afraid of the darkness in him.

And Gwyn, his Gwyn was everything.

A warrior. A Valkyrie in spirit and heart, forged in battle, in loss, in survival. She had taken pain and made it into a blade, had turned her suffering into something stronger. She had laughed in the face of the monsters that had once caged her.

His chest ached, the weight of it pressing into his ribs, his lungs, his very soul.

Gwyn… she knew.

She had always known.

Tears burned in her eyes, but she smiled.

And then she kissed him again.

He pressed her back against his bed, swallowing the gasp she gave. Her fingers tangled in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp, and it undid him.

“I need you,” she breathed against his lips.

He was helpless to resist.

Armor fell away. Clothes were discarded in frantic, clumsy movements. Her skin was warm beneath his hands, her body soft and strong.

He worshipped her. Every inch of her. Every scar, every freckle, every mark of a life lived in defiance of the darkness.

And when he finally sank into her…

When she gasped his name like it was a prayer…

Azriel knew.

She was his.

The bond wrapped around his ribs, anchored deep in his soul.

Gwyn let out a shaky breath, her fingers tracing idle patterns over his chest, as if memorizing every scar, every part of him.

“Tell me something true,” she whispered. “Something that matters.”

Azriel’s fingers tightened on her waist, his thumb stroking absent circles over her skin.

Silence stretched between them. His heartbeat was steady beneath her palm.

His voice, barely more than a whisper.

“You changed everything."

Her breath caught.

He shook his head, his gaze burning into hers.

"I spent centuries believing I was meant to be alone. That what I wanted most, the kind of bond that meant something, wasn’t for me.” His throat bobbed. “And then you walked into my life, and suddenly, waiting didn’t seem so hard. Because it was you.”

Her lips parted, but no words came.

His hand slid up her spine, fingers tangling in her hair.

“And now?” she asked, voice barely a whisper.

Azriel exhaled slowly. “Now, I’d wait another eternity if it meant I’d still have you in the end.”

Gwyn’s fingers curled over his heart, her own threatening to shatter.

"You already do.”

Azriel closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to hers, his grip on her tightening.

As if he could keep her here forever.

And that was enough.

For now.

Note: Ever since I heard this song I imagined a powerful Gwyn taking control of lightsinger's power and using it in battle for the benefit of winning no matter what the circumstances. It's just an idea that came to my head, here Gwyn is already very much a part of the Inner Circle and is known to be important to Az even though they are not together yet.

——

THEY’LL BE CALLING ME ROYALTY

'Til the battle's won

'Til kingdom come

Ohh, ohh, ohh

I'll never run

The battlefield reeked of death By Koschei forces. Blood soaked the frozen earth, bodies lay where they had fallen, and the air rang with the sounds of the dying. The Inner Circle stood at the center of it all, barely holding themselves together. Rhysand's face was grim as he surveyed what remained of their forces wounded, exhausted, outnumbered.

“There’s no way out,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the wind.

Azriel tightened his grip on Truth-Teller, shadows curling around his hands. His siphons pulsed, aching for action, for a solution. But for the first time in centuries, he found nothing.

“There is a way.”

It was barely more than a whisper, but Gwyn’s voice sliced through the silence like a blade. Azriel turned to her instantly, something in his chest going tight at the quiet determination in her teal eyes.

She was covered in dirt and blood, her braid half-undone, her body worn from battle. And yet, there was something unbroken in her. Something fierce.

“What are you talking about?” Cassian demanded.

Gwyn didn’t look at him. She only looked at Rhysand.

“I can use my power.”

Azriel went rigid.

“No.” The word was out before he could think.

Mor and Emerie went still, understanding the weight of her words. Feyre paled, but it was Nesta who reacted first, stepping forward, pure fury written across her face.

“Absolutely not,” Nesta snapped. “That is not an option.”

Gwyn lifted her chin. “It’s our only option.”

Azriel shook his head, stepping between her and the rest of the group. “You have no idea what you’re suggesting.”

“Yes, I do.” Her voice was steady. “If I get close enough, I can command a large number of them. I can make them turn on each other.”

“It will kill you,” Nesta seethed, hands clenched into fists. “That kind of power… you don’t even know the limits of it.”

“I know enough.”

Nesta scoffed. “Oh, do you? Have you ever controlled an army before?”

“I don’t need to control an army,” Gwyn said. “I just need to turn the tide.”

Feyre hesitated, then spoke softly. “How many do you think you can influence?”

Gwyn’s throat bobbed. “I don’t know.”

Azriel clenched his jaw. “Then it’s not an option.” hands fisted at his sides. “We’ll find another way.”

“There is no other way,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “We don’t have the numbers. We don’t have the strength. But I can do this.”

Gwyn turned to Rhysand, who had remained silent, his violet eyes unreadable. “You know I’m right,” she said quietly.

Nesta turned to Rhys, her silver rage barely contained in her eyes. “Tell her no.”

Rhys didn’t answer.

Because Gwyn was already looking at him.

“Let me do this.”

Rhys stiffened. His violet eyes darkened, shifting to her, and though his expression did not change, his power flared.

“Absolutely not.”

“You know I can.”

“You will not put yourself in danger like this, Gwyn.”

She pressed on. “You and I both know this is our last chance. If we fail, if we fall here, what happens then? What happens to the people waiting for us to return?”

Rhys turned away, his jaw tight.

“What happens to Nyx?”

That did it.

Rhys’s eyes closed for a brief moment. When they reopened, they were filled with something raw.

She took a step forward, disguising it as simple movement. “You know what I can do. You saw it during training. If I can hold them long enough for you to make a move…”

“You’re family, Gwyn. You are my sister in every way that matters.” His voice was quiet, filled with something heartbreakingly soft. “Do you understand what you’re asking me to do?”

Out loud, he sighed, rubbing a hand down his face, keeping up appearances. “It’s risky.”

“Everything is risky” she pushed, forcing him to meet her eyes. “You, of all people, know what it means to make a choice for the greater good. You’ve done it before.”

Rhys’s face remained unreadable. But in his mind, there was hesitation.

“You’re asking me to send you into a war zone, alone, with no possible way out” he murmured quiet on her mind.

“I’m asking you to give us a chance to win.”

Nesta snapped something at Gwyn, her voice rising, but neither she nor Rhys acknowledged it.

She pressed on. “You’ve already made your decision, Rhys. You know I’m right. You just don’t want to say it.”

A long pause.

“Azriel will never forgive me for this” Rhys whispered.

Gwyn’s heart clenched.

“He won’t forgive me, either.”

Rhys gave a barely perceptible nod.

Agreement.

No one noticed.

Nesta’s hands trembled with rage. “You are not sacrificing yourself.”

Gwyn softened. “I’m not. I promise.”

It was a lie.

Azriel could see it.

Nesta could see it.

But Gwyn pressed on. “If I can turn even a portion of them, we win. We survive.”

Silence.

Rhys glanced at Feyre, something passing between them. Then, at Cassian, at Mor.

Finally, his eyes settled on Azriel.

The final decision.

Azriel felt the weight of it… the weight of her.

Gwyn took a step closer. Only Azriel would hear the tremor in her voice when she whispered, “Shadowsinger… please.”

His chest ached.

And before he could stop himself, before he could think.

He shook his head.

“No.”

His voice was hoarse, but unwavering…

What I remember is:

1) Az realises they are mates when they are on a mission just the two of them and she comes in with some gloves she had special ones made where she gets to put her and her sister's stone to use them, similar to how az and cass use their siphons. he realises that she is indeed his equal in that moment.

2) The other one I only remember that they were also mates but Gwyn's power of light was more like colours, she didn't have shadows but she had colours that accompanied her through the light and every time she saw Az they turned golden because they were matte.

This is my perfect cast for the Archeron sisters, plus they are of consecutive ages and have similar characteristics!

Feyre - Jessica Alexander, in her role in little mermaid she showed that she can execute strong scenes and let's remember that Feyre has scenes where her strength and determination save her, I feel that this actress besides being young has a lot to give.

Elain - Hannah Dodd, I had a hard time finding an actress for Elain but seeing the latest photos of her role as Francesca in Bridgerton I feel I finally found her, she is uniquely beautiful and I can see her being soft but bringing out character, there is still a lot to see from Elain, soo I’ll go with this choice.

Nesta - Barbara Palvin, the look!!! When you see her on the red carpet she transforms with a super alluring but decisive look, I feel she would be perfect as Nesta.

However with the extra chapter I became obsessed with the idea of Gwyn and Az.

Now saying this, whatever happens! Whichever couple is left, (and here I stressed that I just want them to have their happy ending too) whether it's Elriel or Gwynriel or even another couple, I would still enjoy that book very much! And here we are forgetting that no matter who we love, it's this amazing writer who is going to build that relationship for us and take us into the story she wants to tell us.

In the end this is to enjoy and transport us to these fantasy worlds for a little while as we carry on with our routine. Let's not forget it👀

Although I feel that the actress Jessica alexander has the look of Nesta, I see her more to play the badass role of Feyra 🔥

I just finished the ACOTAR saga and I'm getting into the amazing universe that Sarah J. Maas has given us, currently reading CrescentCity

I'm very Gwynriel team although I have nothing against Elain, I feel like we still haven't gotten to see what her character can give us...

So #Gwynrielsupremacy #Gwynethberdara #Gwyneth #az #azrielshadows #shadowsinger ♥️