#ldasks

Azriel’s shadows were frantic as they pulled him faster and faster toward their mate. Hurry they practically yelled at him he needs us. One word kept coming through clearer than the rest, and each time he heard it, Azriel picked up his pace. Pain.

As he reached the hallway of Eris’s room, he began to see the trail of blood, leading from where he knew the Autumn Court dungeons lie, where Beron loved to take his sons. Barreling through the door, terrified about what he was about to see, Azriel tugged once more on the bond that had been silent for far too long. 

His breath stopped entirely as he took in his mate, beaten and broken, lying face down on the rug in front of the crackling fireplace, as if it had taken all of this strength just to make it into the room. “Eris…” Azriel’s voice broke as he spoke, rushing to turn his mate over. “Azriel, is that you?” Eris stirred as he was jostled, wincing in pain at the bruises and cuts littering his unclothed abdomen. The faint tinge of faebane around the edges of the wounds and the rag stained the same clutched in Eris’s hand told Azriel all he needed to know. 

Azriel went to reach for the cloth, but Eris pulled it away, inhaling sharply with the quick motion. “No, I can do it. I can take care of myself.” Eris rolled out of his mate’s arms, curling in on his body to try and protect himself from whatever he perceived would happen if he ever let anyone take care of himself. He couldn’t be weak, couldn’t ever show fault…not if he wanted to survive.

Eris tried to sit up, grinding his teeth together as he found the pain, pretending not to notice the shadows gathered around him, trying to ease his motions. Azriel sat back, present but silent, letting his mate work through this himself as much as he could bear. As Eris went to clean the next spot the pain was so intense he couldn’t choke down his sob fast enough. Azriel came up behind him, slowly and gently. “Please love, let me help you.” 

Letting out a shaking, teary breath Eris responded, “If I let you help, you’ll think I’m weak…they’ll all think I’m weak. I have to do this Azriel…” 

Azriel placed a hand around Eris’s still holding the rag, squeezing with tight reassurance. “But you are not alone, Eris, and you are not weak. Receiving help is not a weakness, it’s one of our greatest strengths. Please, let me take care of you. Let me in.” Taking several shaky breaths, Eris closed his eyes, leaning his head back to wrest on Azriel’s solid chest behind him. With each passing second, Azriel felt his mate relax into his arms, the adrenaline waning from his system as he finally started to allow himself to feel safe, to be cared for. 

Moments later, Eris removed his hand from Azriel’s, leaving the cloth behind. Turning his head into his mate’s leathers Eris nodded, a soft and tentative “okay,” slipping from his battered lips as he finally gave in and allowed someone to care for him. As he let that final protective wall drop between him and Azriel and gave this last piece of himself over. 

Azriel placed a soft kiss in Eris’s blood matted hair before he got to work, swiftly and surely cleaning the wounds. Eris barely made a sound, grunting softly at the particularly sensitive swipes of the cloth over his damaged body. But for the first time in all the years they’d been together, Eris allowed himself to give this last bit of him over to his mate. He let him help. 

Some time later, when the wounds were properly cleaned and Eris was finally beginning to heal, Azriel carried him to the washroom, gently placing him in the tub that was already full of hot, soapy water. Strand by strand, Azriel detangled and washed his mate's hair, brushing each long piece out and cleaning it to his mate’s satisfaction. Every time before this, Eris had allowed him to watch as he cleaned himself up after an evening with his father, and Azriel had paid special attention to how he washed his hair. 

This final part of his post-torture ritual seemed to be the final cleansing, a way to wash the sins of his father fully from his body before he allowed himself to sleep. Azriel had taken notes, praying to the Mother for the day that Eris would allow him to help. And now that that day had come, he was fully ready. His mate, breathing deeply in the tub, looked up at him as Azriel finished and placed the brush he’d been using on the edge of the tub. 

“You’ve been paying attention.” 

“It is my job, you know.” 

Eris winced slightly at that, and Azriel hastily added on.

“You are not a task Eris. Caring for you is not a burden. It’s a privilege. And I’m honored you let me close enough to let me help you.” He tacked on the finally aspect of that statement in his mind, but Eris heard it anyway. 

“Well, I’ll be checking your work Shadowsinger, but it seems as if you’ve done…adequately. For a first try that is.” 

Azriel’s heart swelled for in this banter, the love language that was uniquely their own, he heard the unsaid words. Thank you for waiting. Thank you for knowing. And thank you for helping.