Chapter Text
As a handmaiden for The High Lord of the Night Court your life wasn't all that bad. On the contrary, he was a very generous employer, making sure you always had enough food on the table, clothes on your body and enough free time to enjoy the vibrant life pulsing through Velaris.
Your only job was to keep the house clean and the family cared for. While the High Lady already had handmaidens caring for her, you mostly saw to the guests staying at The Town House, but mostly The High Lady’s sister Elain.
You had only been working here for a couple of weeks. Your father was one of the countless artists that lived and worked in Velaris, he was a musician, making sure the streets were filled with exquisite melodies. He passed away suddenly, following your mother who lost her life just a few years prior. You were alone now, no family left. Unfortunately, you were not as gifted as your father was, art never ran through your veins. You were still trying to figure out where your life was going to lead you when tragedy struck and everything changed. A small sum of money was left in a vault, enough to keep you going for a month or two, but you couldn’t rely on that. So, you asked your friend Cerridwen for help. Cerridwen and her twin sister Nuala had been working for The High Lord for a very long time and since the two of them were the only friend's you had, they quickly came to mind. They promised you they would keep their eyes open and ask around for work. You never expected to end up with them at The Town House, serving the inner circle of The High Lord, but you were glad your friends were able to get you solid work with a pay, that was probably way more than any other household in Velaris was able to pay their workers.
This morning you were lost in your own thoughts, not paying enough attention. While tidying up the sitting room you hit your shin on one of the ostentatious end tables, a wine glass from last night's gathering falling over, shattering on the floor. The wine also splashed on one of the luxurious white cushions that were placed on the sofa. Panicked, you took the cushion to the kitchen, scrubbing it what felt like hours. The stain just wouldn’t budge. You could have sworn it was laughing at you. When your hands started to get sore, you decided to give up, you would just have to throw it away. Maybe one of the twins would be able to tell you where to get a new one.
Even though The High Lord always treated you with the utmost respect, you were very shy around him. The power he gave off was almost frightening. Growing up in a family of fae, not high fae, you always felt like less than these beautiful creatures wandering Prythian. As a child you were dreaming about becoming one of them, even though you knew that was impossible. If you were high fae, you could probably just fix this mess by snapping your fingers or simply thinking about it.
You turned around to leave the kitchen, you still had to clean up the spilled wine and the glass shards from the floor. Kneeling down, you were lifting your skirt up a little bit so it wouldn’t get soaked and leave permanent stains. Carefully, you picked up all the glass, holding it with your left hand while wiping the wine away with a cloth you pulled out of your right skirt pocket. Suddenly, you heard commotion coming from the direction of the entrance to The Town House, “Stop shoving me!”, “How about you stop whining, you’ve been so sensitive all day!”, “Shut up, both of you, right now!”.
Oh no, they are here, you thought. From the sound of it, you were pretty sure that Cassian, Azriel and Morrigan were in front of the door. You got up quickly, tucking the cloth back into your pocket, holding the glass tightly in your hand. You really didn’t want to face them, you have been able to avoid anyone but The High Lord, The High Lady and her sisters since you started working for them. Mainly, you just didn’t know how to talk to them. They seemed so much larger than life, all of them. And what would they even have to say to me? You never really thought too highly of yourself, confidence was never your strong suit.
You swiftly tried crossing the hallway that was between you and the safety of the kitchen, from there you could easily slip into one of the homely guest rooms that were still waiting to be restocked. After a few steps, when you were next to the front door it unexpectedly and harshly swung open, clashing with you. You lost your balance, falling, landing roughly on your right side. The three members of the inner circle, that you were already expecting, entered the house. Although you’ve never met them properly, during your work you were able to catch a glimpse every now and then, sometimes even catching parts of their conversations. So, while they certainly had no idea who you were, you definitely knew them. The first one to notice you on the floor was Azriel. The High Lords spymaster.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you!” he knelt down, softly touching your shoulder. You have to admit, you had always liked to admire him from afar. He was the most handsome male you had ever seen. You were too stunned to speak, only able to stare into his hazel eyes. “Are you alright?”, he asked.
“Yes, I think so, no worries.” You barely got the words out, still mesmerized by him, completely forgetting the other two standing in the entrance.
“Shit, you’re bleeding!” The strikingly beautiful woman, Morrigan, said as she looked down to your hands. The glass shards, you thought as you opened your hand. You must have closed it out of reflex during the fall.
“It’s fine, it’s nothing, I’ll just go get it cleaned up.” You stammered, but Azriel grabbed your hand, taking a closer look at it.
“The cut looks pretty deep and it looks like there’s some glass in there. I’ll bring you to our healer.” Azriel said.
“That’s really not necessary, I can take care of it.” You tried one more time, but the handsome Illyrian was already pulling you up from the cold tiles. He completely ignored your request to tend to your wounded hand yourself and scooped you up in his arms.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking you to the healing quarters.” He said calmly. Before you were able to protest you were already up in the sky. Instincts made you hold on to his neck as tightly as possibly. You hated heights, in fact, you have been horribly afraid of them ever since you were a little child. Azriel must have noticed your discomfort, asking “are you okay?”.
“I’m really afraid of heights.” You got out with a shaky voice. It was almost not noticeable, but you were sure you felt his hands grabbing you just a little bit tighter.
“We’re almost there, don’t look down.”
After about a three-minute flight, you landed smoothly on a balcony that was just as impressive as the white building with golden decorations, that it clung to. He placed you gently on your feet, holding on to your elbow to stabilize your body.
“I think I’m going to be sick”, you said, determined to keep the contents of your stomach where they were, but it was too late. You turned to the railing, throwing your upper body over it and retching into the brisk morning air. Azriel seemed a bit startled at first, but he quickly caught himself and without even thinking about it, he held back your hair with both hands.
“I’m so, so sorry”, you pled, after you were done.
“Please, don’t be, it’s not your fault. I should apologize, I didn’t even ask if it’s okay to fly you here.” He looked at you, it was impossible to read his elegant face. You looked around and for the first time you noticed the shadows that were dancing around him gracefully.
He must have noticed the look you threw at them, as they suddenly disappeared behind his muscular body. “Sorry, they can be a bit frightening,” he said with a quiet voice.
“Oh no, I think they’re quite fascinating!” The words left your mouth way too eager and you immediately scolded yourself for it. He didn’t say anything, but he gave you a tender smile and goosebumps started forming on your body. Keep it together Y/N, you warned yourself.
“Let me get you to Madja.” Madja, the healer, you thought. You had seen her a couple of times at The Town House, tending to injured members of the inner circle.
You stepped into the quarters, Madja already walking towards you.
“She cut her hand pretty badly on some glass”, Azriel said. The healer took your hand and inspected it for a few seconds.
“I’ll take care of it.” Was all she said. She started guiding you away from Azriel and suddenly you felt a pull deep inside of you, that made you want to stay with him. Your heart started beating faster and you felt your cheeks flush as you took a look at him.
“Thank you”, you said in a shaky voice. Azriel stared at you, different than he had before, his eyes were wide open and he looked as if he’d seen a ghost. You gave him an unsure smile and turned away as he blurted out “Wait!” Madja stopped in her tracks, still holding your bleeding hand. “What’s your name?!” He jabbered.
“Y/N”, you answered.
“You’re welcome, Y/N.”
He still looked shocked, almost afraid. Before you could say anything else, he walked briskly towards the balcony, spreading his impressive illyrian wings and flew off.
Azriel
He flew through the cold, calm morning sky. It was supposed to wake him up, but the adrenaline was still pumping through his body. How was this even possible?
He went through the last few minutes in his head, he couldn’t believe it. But he had felt it, he could still feel it now, it was clear as day. When Madja took your hand to get you to another room, he suddenly felt it. It ran through his body like lightning struck him, it had almost brought him to his knees. And then he saw it, the mating bond. So clear, so golden, so pure. Right there in front of him, a bond flowing from him to you. He had never seen you at The Town House before, how long had you been working there? His heart was aching, he wanted to go back, talk to you, see you, make sure you were alright, try to make sense of this. She’s my mate, he thought as he shot down towards The Town House. He was so shaken that he stumbled a bit during the landing, crashing into the front door just like he did earlier today, when you were hit by it. The thought of your body hitting the hard floor suddenly made him cringe. Mor and Cassian were lounging in the sitting room, waiting for his arrival.
“That took forever”, Morrigan said as he slowly walked in, eyes still open in utter disbelief.
“What’s going with you?” Cassian asked.
“She’s my mate.” On his flight to the house, he swore to himself not to tell, but as soon as he was asked it felt so wrong to contain it. Somebody had to know.
“What? Who?” Mor got up from her seat.
“Y/N” Azriel mumbled as he sunk into the sofa.
“Who’s Y/N? What are you talking about?” Cassian started to get annoyed.
“The handmaiden. The one I just flew to Madja. Her name is Y/N and she’s my mate.”