#azrie

Azriel never feared silence in his life. He thrived in it, in the solace of the shadows, in the weight of unspoken words. But the silence you left behind was unbearable. For two years, it echoed in his bones, carved itself into the walls of the room you once shared, pressed into the empty space in the bed where you once laid. And the letter, now creased and worn from how many times he had read it, reminded him of his failure.

"I want to heal. I need to understand what I was made for."

You had been slipping through his fingers like grains of sand, and he hadn’t even noticed. Hadn't seen the way you let life pass you by. Hadn’t realized that the quiet, passive way you moved through the world wasn’t peace, it was emptiness. And it was too late. You are gone.

For the first few months, rage had warred with guilt. He had failed you. As your mate, as the male who was supposed to know your soul. He had been so focused on loving you that he hadn't realized you hadn't yet learned how to love yourself.

Cassian and Rhys tried to help, but there were no words that could fix this. He trained until his muscles burned, until his body ached, but nothing numbed the feeling of your absence. His shadows whispered your name at night, searching for traces of you.

And then, one evening, as he sat on the roof of the House of Wind, staring at the stars, wishing he could listen to the same story over and over again about how each star ended where it was, something inside him shifted. The bond. A door he thought would remain locked forever cracked open.

His breath left him in a harsh exhale, his heart a hammering mess in his chest. The sensation was weak at first, as if you weren't sure you could bear to touch it. But it was there. You were back. And he was flying before he even realized it.

Honestly, you had prepared yourself for this moment. Prepared for the possibility that Azriel might not want you anymore. That you had been gone for too long, had hurt him too deeply.

But you weren't the same person who had left. you had spent two years chasing something — anything — that would make you feel alive. You hadn’t found the grand purpose you had longed for, hadn’t discovered a great passion hidden within yourself. But you had found yourself at peace in the small moments. In the way the ocean breeze felt against your skin while you were traveling, in the warmth of the sun after a cold night you spent outside, in the quiet companionship of strangers who didn’t know your past while you ate at small bakeries.

And somewhere along the way, you had realized something else. You loved Azriel. Not because of the bond, not because it was fate. But because, in all the world, Azriel was the one person who made you want to feel something. You spent so many years without worrying about it, and when Azriel entered your life, it felt like a necessity to understand his emotions and be someone worthy of him. You just didn't realize it at the time.

A gust of wind cut through the clearing, and you turned just as a shadow fell over you. Azriel landed with a force that sent leaves scattering around you. His wings flared wide, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths, golden eyes burning with something you couldn’t quite name.

You took a breath. “Az—”

But you didn’t get the chance to finish. He crossed the space between them in two strides, pulling you into his arms, burying his face in your neck. His scent overwhelmed you, shadows curling around your wrists like they had missed you too.

“You came back,” he rasped. His voice was raw. “You came back.”

Your throat tightened. You wrapped your arms around him, holding on, letting yourself feel this moment fully.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

His grip tightened. “Don’t. Just—don’t.”

You pulled back enough to look at him, reaching up to touch his face, tracing the dark circles beneath his eyes, the tension in his jaw. “I should have told you what I was feeling. I should have let you in. At least once.”

Azriel’s gaze searched yours, his hands trembling slightly as they cupped your face. “I should have seen it,” he murmured. “I should have—”

You shook your head, pressing your forehead to his. “We can’t change the past.”

He exhaled shakily, eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before he looked at you again. “Are you staying?”

The question carried the weight of everything. You had been ready to tell him that it was okay if he didn’t want you anymore. That you would understand. But seeing him now, feeling him this way for the first time, it was unbearable to think of leaving again.

“Yes,” you breathed. “If you’ll have me.”

Azriel let out a broken laugh, the ghost of a smile touching his lips before he kissed you. It wasn’t soft. It was desperate, filled with two years of longing, of aching, of everything unsaid. You melted into him, letting yourself feel. For the first time in your life, you wanted to stay. And that was enough. For now, it had to be enough.

—

The River House was quiet when Azriel led you inside. He had barely spoken since you both left the clearing, as if afraid that if he broke the silence, you would disappear again. But his hand never left yours. He held on like he was grounding himself in the reality that you were here, real and warm beside him.

Rhys and Feyre had been in the sitting room when you arrived, their eyes widening at the sight of your form. Feyre had reached out, a silent question in her expression, but Rhys had just given a knowing nod and waved them along. They would talk later. For now, Azriel just needed to take you home.

When you finally reached your old house, the sight of it stole your breath. It was exactly as you had left it. You had thought, maybe, that he wouldn’t want to stay here anymore. That it would be too painful. But he hadn’t let it go. The flowers in the window boxes were still alive, the wards still strong. It was lived in, barely, but lived in all the same.

Azriel opened the door, stepping inside first. You followed hesitantly, your heart hammering as you took in the space that had once been yours. It smelled like him. Like shadows and cedar and something distinctly Azriel.

He turned to you, expression unreadable. “It’s yours if you still want it.”

You swallowed past the lump in your throat. “It's ours.”

His eyes shined, something flickering there, but he only nodded and led you inside.

You settled in the living room. Azriel sat on the couch first, tension coiled tight in his body. You hesitated for only a moment before curling up beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. The breath he let out was shaky, but his arm came around you, pulling you closer. And for a moment, you just sat there.

Finally, he broke the silence. “Tell me about it.”

You hummed softly. “About what?”

His fingers traced small patterns on your arm. “Everything.”

So you did. You told him about the places you had seen, the towns and cities and forests you had wandered through, places you studied so many times but never felt the necessity to see. About the mountains that had taken your breath away, the vast oceans that stretched endlessly before you.

“But,” you admitted after a pause, “even in the big things, I didn’t exactly find pleasure in them.”

Azriel tensed. “Then what did you find?”

You smiled softly, thinking of all the quiet moments you had collected. “The best part was the journey. The calm days. Picnics in wildflower fields. Reading books by a quiet river. Sitting under the stars and just… breathing.”

Azriel listened intently, hanging on to every word like they were precious. “You found peace in the small things.”

You nodded. “And in something else.” He waited. He always would. You exhaled shakily, tilting your head to look up at him. “I never really knew what home was. But I think… I think my home was always wherever you were.”

Azriel’s throat bobbed, his fingers tightening around yours. For the first time since you had returned, his walls cracked, his shadows retreating as he let you see him. The pain of your absence. The relief of your return. The love he had never stopped carrying.

He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You left to find yourself. And you still found your way back to me.”

You smiled, reaching up to brush his cheek. “I think I always would.”

Azriel closed his eyes for a moment, like he was drinking in the words. When he opened them, his golden gaze burned into yours.

“Tell me about it,” he murmured.

And you told him about the way you had thought of him every single day. About how, even when you were alone in a city where no one knew your name, you had never truly been alone, because the bond had been there, whispering, calling. You had bathed in the feeling of longing for him, let it settle deep in your bones, and realized that it was love. That it had always been love. Azriel listened in silence, his fingers tracing slow circles on your back, grounding himself in your presence.

Then, you turned the question on him. “What about you?” you asked softly.

Azriel hesitated, his jaw tightening. “I stayed at the River House,” he admitted. “Rhys wanted to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid.”

Your heart ached at the thought. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “I trained. I worked. I did everything I could to stop myself from searching for you.” He let out a breath. “And I failed. My shadows searched every night. I just… I needed to know you were alive.”

Your fingers caressed him. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Azriel turned fully to face you, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. “You needed to go.”

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch. “But I needed to come back, too.”

His lips parted, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. “Are you staying home?”

It was the second time he had asked you that tonight. And this time, you had no doubts.

You smiled. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

Azriel’s breath hitched. And then he was kissing you. It was soft at first, tentative, as if he was afraid you might disappear again. But when you melted into him, when your hands tangled in his hair, he deepened it, poured two years of longing into the kiss.

You had spent so long trying to find what you were made for. And maybe you still didn’t know. But you knew this. You knew him. And that was enough.

—

The days blended into something soft, something real. You had always thought love had to be grand, had to be overwhelming to be true. But you were learning that love was in the quiet moments. In the warmth of a shared morning, in the soft hum of conversation, in the way Azriel reached for you absentmindedly, as if making sure you were still there.

Your house — your home — had begun to feel like one again.

—

“You’re terrible at this,” Azriel muttered, watching your struggle to chop vegetables evenly.

You scowled at him. “I was traveling for two years, Az, not training under a master chef.”

He smirked, stepping behind you and reaching around to guide your hands. His chest was solid against your back, his breath warm against your ear. “Like this,” he murmured, his hands covering yours as he helped your slice.

You swallowed, your fingers tightening around the knife. “Are you actually trying to teach me, or are you just enjoying this?”

Azriel’s chuckle was low. “Can’t it be both?”

Your cheeks warmed, but you didn’t pull away.

You cooked together most nights, finding comfort in the simple act of creating something. Some meals were disasters — like when you burned an entire tray of bread because you got distracted — but others were quiet successes.

It wasn’t about the food. It was about the time spent together, the way you fit into a rhythm neither had to think too hard about.

—

Azriel had told you the house was still yours, but you wanted to make it about the two of you again. You repainted walls, shifted furniture, filled empty spaces with small touches that made the house feel alive.

“Are you sure about this color?” Azriel asked, skeptical as he stared at the deep blue paint you had chosen for the study.

“Yes,” you said firmly, dipping your brush in the paint and dabbing a streak of blue onto his nose.

Azriel blinked, unmoving for a long moment. Then, slow as a predator, he dipped his fingers into the can and dragged a stripe of blue down your cheek.

Your eyes widened. “Azriel.”

He only smirked. “What? It suits you.”

The complete war that followed left you both covered in paint, breathless with laughter. But the room turned out perfect anyway.

—

The biggest change was the spare room. You had mentioned, once, that reading had been your solace during your time away. You hadn’t realized Azriel had listened so intently until he suggested turning the empty room into a library. The moment the last youlf was filled, you sighed in contentment, running your fingers along the spines of the books.

Azriel leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Happy?”

You turned to him, beaming. “Very.”

His expression softened. “Good.”

You walked over, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face into his chest. “Thank you.”

Azriel kissed the top of your head, his hands tracing slow circles on your back. “You don’t have to thank me, love.”

You tilted your head up. “I do. You’ve given me a home.”

Azriel’s gaze glowed with something deep, something endless. “You were always my home.”

Your throat tightened, and you kissed him before you could cry.

—

Azriel knew he couldn’t just stop working for Rhysand, he was the Spymaster of the Night Court. But he also knew he couldn’t let work keep him from the life he was rebuilding with you. Couldn't let work keep him away from noticing the small things in you he had let pass years ago.

So, one evening, he found himself in Rhys’s study. “I need to lighten my workload,” he said bluntly.

Rhys blinked, setting down his glass of wine. “That’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear from you.”

Azriel sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just… I lost her once. I don't want to lose her again.”

Understanding flickered in Rhys’s violet eyes. “You won’t.”

Azriel looked away. “She’s still figuring herself out. I want to be here for that.”

Rhys studied him for a long moment before nodding. “We’ll make it work.”

Relief flooded Azriel’s chest.

Rhys smirked. “And here I thought you’d never take a damn break.”

Azriel huffed a quiet laugh. “Don’t get used to it.”

—

Life didn’t suddenly become perfect. There were still days where you struggled, where you felt like you were still learning how to exist. But you were healing. And you weren't alone. Azriel was there through it all, the small joys, the frustrating days, the laughter and the quiet moments in between. You had spent so much time lost. Now, you are finding your way back. Together.

—

To My Dearest,

I don’t know when you will read this. Maybe when you are young, curious, searching through drawers for secrets. Maybe when you are older, when the weight of the world feels a little too heavy. Maybe never at all.

But just in case — just in case you ever feel the way I once did, the way I spent most of my life feeling — I want you to know this: You can talk to me.

There is nothing shameful in feeling lost. In feeling like life moves around you, like you are watching it all from behind a glass. Like you are there but not present. I know that feeling well, my love. And I know how dangerous silence can be.

For so long, I thought I had to bear it alone. That it was something only I could fix. But I was wrong. I don’t know who decided that we should face our darkness alone, but they were wrong. We are not meant to heal in solitude. We have a family. And family is love.

I want you to learn that — truly learn that. Love is not something that has to be earned. Love isn't something you need to figure out. It is not something that disappears just because you don’t feel full all the time. You are loved because you exist. You are loved because you are you.

And if, one day, you wake up and feel that emptiness creeping in, know that I will be here. That you don’t have to pretend. That you don’t have to carry it alone.

I spent years trying to find what I was meant for. And maybe I still don’t have all the answers. Maybe I never will. But I know one thing with certainty. I was meant to love. At least that. And loving you is the easiest thing I have ever done.

Forever,

The moon was high in the sky, and Feyre and Rhysand were attempting to coax their crying child to bed at one end of the table. Azriel leaned against a wall, and Elain and Morrigan still sat at the table, all three watching the rapid discussion between Nesta, Cassian, and Amren over the pile of unwrapped presents with amused smiles.

I would have joined them – I was about to – when it clicked into place.

The shift in the room was instant. Even Nyx stopped sniveling.

I physically felt the eyes of everyone on my skin, but I was frozen stiff. I just wanted to look anywhere – anywhere but him. The soulmate bond was brand new. Raw. But it felt as if it had been there forever. It was innate to feel his presence, his soul linked to mine, and it was impossible to turn my gaze anywhere else.

It was a thunderstorm – a clash of a thousand whirling emotions from both of us. For a moment everything clicked. And it felt right.

Then his eyes flickered to Elain.

And I felt my heart slip.

Turn it off. Plummeting deep down into my very being I closed myself off from it all, the bond, the emotions, with impenetrable walls Rhys would be proud of if he could see passed them. Get out. Out of the room. He can't see you like this.

A few feet from the end of the hallway hurried footsteps stopped me in my tracks. I knew who they belonged to – or who they did not belong to – and it broke my heart even more.

Morrigan placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, the concerned look on her face cutting deeper than it should have. "What do you need?" She asked.

I looked around her at the empty hallway.

Don't break. Don't break.

"Do you have a spare room?"

////

I spent months secluded in Morrigan's mountain estate, Athelwood. Most of my time I spent working on hobbies, reading, or working on anything I could do from afar. It was mostly just paperwork forwarded by Rhys.

Amren, Cassian, and Morrigan visited often – always bringing wine and complaining about how I was missing nights at Rita's. Even Feyre wrote letters and Nyx's scribbled drawings were tucked in a drawer for safekeeping.

Throughout all of it I heard less than a whisper about Azriel and not once did I dare to ask.

Because the bond was so eerily quiet.

Was the silence normal?

Was it better this way?

I never thought I would find my soulmate – Cassian and Rhysand finding their respective persons was all the fortune I thought our ragtag group would have been granted. Yet here we were.

I would not force a relationship between Azriel and I. Forced bonds never went well and I would never impose the bond on someone. Especially if they had already found love.

Especially if that person was Azriel. The boy I had grown up with, the man who defended my back in every battle I could remember, who was by my side stumbling drunk up the beginning of the 10,000 steps when we forgot he could fly, who I had watched a thousand sunrises with – my best friend. Even him.

A few weeks after leaving Velaris, a realization struck me like an assassin's dagger between the ribs. Would I even know if Azriel rejected the bond?

Would it tell me somehow?

Or would it remain shadowed, open ended, gaping, and hemorrhaging for eternity leaving me wondering, wandering, numb.

Shut it off shut it off shut it off shut it off—

. . . Did I even want to know?

But each morning, regardless of the amount of sleep I got, I awoke at the same time. The same damn time to watch the sun struggle to reach the valley. And each sunrise I watched it creep down to the grass at my feet and I wondered if the two seats near the edge of the roof of the House of Wind were empty.

Or if mine had been filled.

After all, happy endings were rare.

Returning to the House of Wind a week ago was easier than I anticipated. The House itself greeted me with fresh sheets, a crackling fireplace, and a dinner spread of my favorite foods.

Once, I had been annoyed by my room's distance from Azriel and Cassian's personal quarters but had refused to move and give up my balcony. A choice I am glad for now more than ever. I could come and go as I pleased with risking a confrontation I was not ready to face.

Until this morning.

When I forgot and did not remember before I had already shuffled half-asleep to the top level of the House of Wind. Before the gentle morning breeze laid warmly against my skin and Azriel was watching me from his chair, legs stretched out and eyes alight in the daybreak.

It was only then my mind caught up with my body and I turned on the spot, embarrassment rushing through my blood.

"Tomorrow, then?" He asked softly, voice barely a whisper in the air behind me.

I paused at the top of the steps, a different emotion replacing the mortification. The sun breached the mountain fog, turning the Sidra golden in the valley below and scattering lingering shadows wherever it reached.

"Tomorrow, then."

Whether friends or more – I left the finale up to you.