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nikethestatue · 15 days

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A Ballad of Sorrow and Love

TW: Extreme sexual content, graphic violence, language, death

Part II

Death

Azriel sighed sleepily and shifted against the sheets. Birdsong was coming from behind the tall windows of the Moon Palace. It was still early in the morning, the sun just beginning to gently touch the snow-capped tops of the mountains. The sky was a brilliant blue and the sunrise coloured everything in bright pink, in gold, and in purple. His Ellie’s colours. He loved this place specifically for the colours, because they always reminded him of his wife. He didn’t mind the quiet and the isolation either.

What woke him up was the sensation of his sweet Ellie tonguing his asshole. He did not mind being woken up like this. No, not at all. He smiled into the pillows and moved his thigh, to give her better access and she took advantage of it immediately, gingerly parting his ass, her hands eager and careful as she stroked his skin. She thought that he was still asleep and was determined not to wake him. Which basically meant that she was licking his ass for her own pleasure. He usually slept on his stomach or his side because of his wings, so he lay flat on his front and tucked his hands under his cheek.

He felt her settle between his legs, spread him widely and start licking slowly and wetly from his balls to his asshole. At first, she couldn’t resist sucking his balls, popping each one between her lips and sucking it in deeply.

How lucky was he to be married to a girl who loved sucking his balls? And suck she did–slurping and lapping on them, smacking her lips as she went along. But today, he really, really wanted her to give some attention to his ass, so he jerked his hips and she released his balls and dipped her tongue between his cheeks. Perfect. She swirled her tongue wetly around his hole and then began to lick on it excitedly.

When Azriel was rough and authoritarian, preferring to force her and have her submit, Elain was the opposite–she was joyful and willing, licking energetically, before she forced her tongue inside and started to suck at his hole.

Azriel barely stifled a moan, but she didn’t even notice it, entirely too busy tongue fucking him, while she caressed his balls in her hand.

Mother’s tits! He wanted to lay here like this for hours, but his cock was aching now like a motherfucker. So he reached behind him and buried his fingers in Elain’s long messy hair, pushing her face closer so her tongue could get a little deeper, and said, “good moring, beautiful girl!”

Holding her head tightly, he rose onto his knees and she followed him, gripping his hips and sucking on his hole. He groaned with pleasure and pressed his forehead into his hands, muttering ‘take my cock’.

She reached around him and fisted his hard dick and began rubbing it, her pull strong and firm–just like he liked it. His wings limply fell by his body, and he didn’t have it in him to lift them. It felt incredible–the whole thing, the array of pleasurable sensations, her tugging on his cock, the motion of her wrist smooth and practised, her little tongue in his ass, her lips around his hole, her other hand stroking the side of his body.

“Princess, I need to fuck you,” he begged.

“Mmm,” she managed, but it was a ‘no’. She was busy. And he shut his mouth and attempted to relax his tense, wound up body and simply enjoy what she was giving him.

He lasted almost fifteen minutes.

Not bad, but it felt torturous. Tortuously good that is.

At last, he couldn’t take it anymore and grabbed her arm, pulling her roughly beneath him. She tumbled on her side, and he hefted her hips up, while pushing her head down. His favourite position, no contest. His cock was going to explode if she wasn’t going to get it inside of her right then, so he pulled her ass cheeks apart and then sunk inside her ass all at once.

Pushing down on her shoulders, he grabbed her wrists and crossed her arms on her back, immobilising her.

“Oh gods, oh gods,” she cried pitifully, wiggling her hips and her ass against his pelvis. “Azzzzz,” she growled, struggling to accept the enormity of his swollen cock.

“Relax and take it,” he suggested casually, thrusting roughly in her, pulling out almost to the end and then shoving himself back in.

“I can already barely walk from yesterday,” she complained, pouting. “My ass is so sore. I can’t stop leaking cum either,”

He smiled smugly and nodded, though she couldn’t see it.

Instead, he slapped her buttock harshly and added some speed to his thrusts.

“But look how well I fit inside of you,” he commented, observing his shaft inside her well-used hole, “You were made for me. Made to take my cock. Made to love me. Made to submit to me. Every hole of your body was made for my dick. You will take what I give you, and you will thank me in the end. And then you will ask for more.”

His tone was stern, but it didn’t need to be. She softened beneath him, sighing with content and closing her eyes.

“Mmmm,” she murmured under her breath, “more please.”

“More of what?” he stopped moving, and sunk his whole shaft inside of her, making her squirm and moan, her soft ass shaking against him, while he waited for her to answer.

She licked her lips and then begged, “more cock, please. Please, Az, my love, please. Fuck me.”

“Fuck you where?”

“Everywhere,” she screeched, gritting her teeth from the pressure inside of her. “My ass. Fuck my ass right now.”

“Good girl,” he spanked her hard again and she yipped loudly. He pulled her cheeks apart, so he could watch and began pounding her asshole like a demon that he was. Merciless.

Nothing gave him the sense of utter power and domination over her than taking her anally. He wasn’t sure what it was about it that he enjoyed so much, but her rectum was just for his pleasure–there was something about possessing her in that way that was intoxicating. Especially in this position, where she was completely at his mercy and he controlled every part of her body. She could do nothing, and only accept. It drove him crazy.

And even though she could heal herself easily, she rarely did, preferring to be sore and aching after he was done with her. That was a special gift that she offered him that he knew he could never repay.

“Awww, aauuu,” was all that she managed to utter, sinking her teeth into his foot, since he propped himself on the bed to gain better purchase. “You are riding me so hard,” she moaned.

“Shouldn’t have licked my ass if you didn’t want to be ridden,” he chuckled and suddenly, pulled out completely, watching her groan and raise her ass high up in the air, flexing her hips with desperation.

“Fill me up, fill me up,” she begged, “I want it back!”

He smirked, watching her writhe and beg him to fuck her. He reached down and pressed her head into the pillow, holding the back of her neck before landing a sharp blow on her pussy with an open palm.

“Oh Mother!” she screamed. “Please…oh,”

“Please what?”

“Hit it again,” she gurgled. “Please, Az, I want more!”

He held her down and slapped her pussy with firm, broad, sharp slaps. With every smack, her pussy lips reddened more and more, and her little gaping anus sucked in air, taunting Azriel with its swollen pinkness.

“Come on, treasure, beg me for it,” he ordered. “I want you to plead for me to slap this pretty pussy. Do you want more or should I stop?”

She shook her head, though rather unsuccessfully, pressed into the pillow by his iron grip.

“Please keep going. Please. It hurts so good,” she pleaded.

“You like it when I make it hurt?”

“Yes,” she nodded instantly. “I love it. Only you. When you make it hurt, it’s so gooooddd,” she slurred the last word, because Azriel thrust his dick back inside her ass, propped his palms over her hips and began fucking her with unrestrained vigour.

“Aahhhhaahh,” was all she managed to scream, grabbing his foot and lacing her fingers with his toes, as she winced and grimaced from his deep thrusts.

If he wasn’t lazy, he’d turn her on her back right now and slapped her pussy while riding her ass, but he was too comfortable right now and didn’t bother.

“You were a sweet girl, waking me up like you did, licking my asshole,” he said with approval, fucking her steadily, slapping her once in a while.

“I love it,” she confessed, “I love you so much. I love tasting all of you. Az, Az…”

“Yes, treasure, what is it?”

“It’s so hot,” she whined, “why are you so big?”

“You make me this big, pretty girl. You drive me insane with lust.”

“It hurts a little bit,” she complained unconvincingly.

“I know,” he agreed simply. “But you love the pain. And you love being mine. So take it, and then thank me for it. My cock, my seed, the pain, and the pleasure.”

She nodded in agreement and whispered, “thank you, my love.”

He stroked her hip and her buttock tenderly for once, and whispered, “Love you, Ellie.”

“I love you too,” she told him and looked up at him over her shoulder. “I love you. I love you.”

She wrapped her arm around his calf, holding on, looking at him with a dazed, love-filled, lusty gaze. She started orgasming on his dick, her tight passage squeezing him almost painfully, but oh-so amazingly. She was panting loudly, clinging to his leg, begging mindlessly, “harder, Az. Please. Harder. Please fuck it, my love.”

He indulged her of course, his pretty little fuck-doll. Her anal orgasms were always shuttering, and she tugged and clenched on his dick for minutes, shaking and crying with her release.

At last, as the first wave subsided, she asked shyly, “Do you like fucking me?” as if unsure.

“Love fucking you, sweetheart. Love licking you. Love slapping your puffy pussy. Love fisting you. Love getting my wings and my cock in you. Love doubling you down. Love making a mess of your holes. Love watching you stretched all over me. Love it all.”

Suddenly, the door to their bedroom opened and in stepped no other than Cassian.

Azriel’s shadows burst out–covering Elain’s naked body and shielding her from his brother’s eyes. It was a rare occurrence now that the shadows–the shadows appearing when not summoned–but here they were, protecting their master. Now, granted, Cassian’s seen Azriel fuck Elain plenty of times. Over the centuries, the lines blurred, and there was little by way of modesty between all of them. Cassian’d seen Elain with Azriel’s dick down her throat, and Azriel’d seen Nesta ride Cassian on more than one occasion. Still, Azriel didn’t necessarily need for his brother to watch Elain’s pretty asshole full of cock.

“What the fuck, Cass?” he bellowed.

“Sorry, sorry!” Cassian raised his hands defensively, looked around in confusion and then added, ‘sorry El.”

“Get the fuck out,” Azriel ordered, as he kept pumping into Elain smoothly. “Let me finish, have my wife come on my cock and then I’ll be out and talk to you.”

The door closed and Elain giggled, “do you think Cass saw?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart. Do you want him to watch?”

She considered, biting her lip and then said, “no, not him. I like it when others watch.”

Azriel laughed and pumped harder, “Dirty fucking girl with an ass full of cock. You like being watched, don’t you?”

She looked at him playfully and nodded. Then she reached for his wing and pulled his claw to her mouth.

“I need to suck something while you are destroying my ass.”

He laughed again, and proceeded with the anal destruction.

Azriel lifted his axe high in the air and then brought it down on the wood with an audible thud. The reverberations in his arms from the force of his hit were intense, but he loved the jolt and the pain that his arms felt when he struck the log again and again, trying to split it.

“Do you even need firewood?” Cassian asked logically, watching Azriel heave and raise the axe again, before bridging it down with a loud thud. The wide round log cracked at last. Azriel began striking the spot with almost clinical precision, which impressed Cassian to no end. The edge of the axe hit the same spot over and over again. Azriel’s massive arms bulged, the muscles and tendons shifting beneath the inked skin as he laboured over the stump with incredible focus and determination.

“Ellie likes it,” Azriel explained simply and glanced towards the garden.

There wasn’t a garden here before Elain arrived and put her stamp on the palace. Now, one side of the grounds was a tangle of rose bushes, fat hydrangeas, azaleas, dahlias and flowers that Cassian didn’t know the names of. The garden was vast, overgrown, but blooming. It felt as if someone had loved it, but forgot to tend to it on a regular basis.

Elain was wearing her floppy hat and a linen dress, as she pulled weeds out of the ground. Her thin arms were tanned and muscular, her skirt hiked up into a sash, exposing her long slender legs. Azriel watched her for a long while, mesmerised. At last, Cassian cleared his throat, reminding Azriel of his presence.

“Ellie and I like to light a fire and cook dinner together,” Azriel explained then. “We eat, watch the sunset, and then sit by the fire.”

Cassian sighed and said, “that’s nice, Az. Sounds really nice.”

Azriel raised his axe again and whacked the split log.

“So, why are you here and why did you interrupt me fucking my wife in the ass?”

Cassian rolled his eyes and rubbed his hand over his jaw.

“Thanks for the visual, Az,” he grumbled.

“Your fault for interrupting us,” Azriel shrugged.

“So you fuck her then?”

“Every day,” Azriel said proudly. “Yesterday I had to punish her because she was not careful on our last mission.”

“She still lets you do all that crazy shit you do? With slapping and ropes and shadow dicks and claw fucking?”

“She likes it just as much as I do. She loves getting the claws in her.”

Cassian's never ventured into the claw territory. He knew it was possible. Had heard about it. Then, one day, he saw it. Elain, riding Azriel outside by the pool, his cock in her cunt and one of his claws in her ass. Apparently, it was possible. But one needed to be a sexual deviant like Azriel to propose that to his woman, and that woman needed to agree to allow Azriel to jam a claw up her arse. Only one woman was capable of that much trust and devotion, and possessed such a wicked sexual need for extreme experimentation–and that was Elain. Nesta would probably incinerate Cassian for even mentioning it. Not that he wasn’t curious, but he wasn’t going to venture there.

“Speaking of missions,” he said gently.

“What now? Rhys sent you, didn’t he?” Azriel frowned.

“He is worried that you’d be going alone. You shouldn't. You,”

“Does he need a reminder that I don’t work for him?” Azriel asked coldly. “I work with him. I associate. I don’t serve him. So while I appreciate his unnecessary protectiveness, I will make these decisions myself.”

“Brother, I am just here as an advisor,” Cassian told him mildly.

“Yes. And I was and am, as far as I remember, a former spymaster and a seven-syphon Illyrian warrior. So perhaps I can take care of myself?”

“No one is arguing that,” Cassian assured him. “But we just want to make sure that you don’t get yourself in a difficult position. After everything’s happened, I think it’s,”

“Cass. I am fine. Yes, I’ve taken some risks before, but now I am much more calm. I know what I am doing.”

Azriel turned his head and peered towards the garden.

Morning sun was beating down and it was warm. The mountains around them glistened with perfectly white snowcaps, but there, it was like late spring.

Cassian knew that spring was Elain’s favourite season–she loved it when everything bloomed and the air smelled of peonies and jasmine. Cherry blossoms hung heavily on the branches, bursting with colour. Long ago, before she married Azriel, some in Prythian even whispered that she might be a good match for High Lord Tamlin, so she could reside in Spring Court. What they didn’t understand was that Elain loved the process of growing. She loved getting her hands dirty and cut, and loved nurturing her flowers and plants. She didn’t need Spring. She needed Azriel and her gardens–the Garden of White in Hewn City, where she planted and cultivated white flowers exclusively, and this place. Now, her garden where it was suspended in perpetual bloom, just like Elain liked it.

“There is a traitor in the midst of your Court,” Azriel said calmly, waving his hand at Elain. “Someone you’ve trusted for a long time. But he’s been selling the information to the gangs,” he continued.

Cassian gawked at him.

It was the first time he’s heard of any traitor.

“What? Who?!”

Azriel thrust his axe into the log and went to get himself a glass of water. He chugged it in one go, and then grabbed a cloth to wipe the sweat from his neck.

“That’s why it would be better if you and Rhys and the Night Court aren’t privy to it,” he said at last. That’s why I want to go with my crew, the girls and Ellie and keep it quiet. If we just disappear him, no one will know.”

“Who is it though?” Cassian insisted, pressing his elbows to his knees and leaning forward.

Fucking Azriel–so like him to just spring something on them. So casual too! ‘Oh, by the way, you have a traitor!’

Once he was Chosen by the Power, Azriel took Elain and fell away from the Inner Circle and Night Court as much as possible. There was a certain level of power struggle between him and Rhys, with Cassian stuck in the middle. Rhys had more cardinal magic and more land in his Court, but Azriel had more magical power, all sorts of magical items of immense capabilities and objects of untold powers, the Darkbringers, the beasts and Elain, the Cauldron-Made Seer and Lifegiver. Out of loyalty and love for Rhys and Feyre, Azriel didn’t just leave them hanging and maintained his vast network of spies just like always. Any important information that was discovered, he shared with Rhys and Feyre, and when they needed him to, he assisted them to the best of his abilities. Azriel’s only condition–Elain was off limits to the Night Court and its rulers. He forbade Rhysand from ever approaching Elain in regards to her powers or asking her to do favours for them. Elain was the Princess of Hewn City, Azriel’s wife, and her loyalty and her abilities, if she chose to use them, belonged to her own Court and not to her brother-in-law. It was a point of contention for centuries between Azriel and Rhysand, but Azriel never budged.

“Do you want breakfast?” Azriel offered.

“I want to know who the traitor is!” Cassian exclaimed impatiently. “Quit fucking around!”

“So temperamental,” Azriel chuckled and then grabbed his shirt and said. “Come, I’ll make you some eggs.”

Eris. Fucking Eris Vanserra, the High Lord of Autumn.

Traitor.

Was Cassian shocked? He didn’t want to admit it, but he was.

After all these centuries and seemingly good relations between Night and Autumn, Eris went rogue.

And Lucien.

For some reason, Cassian was less surprised about Lucien.

Lucien Vanserra, the heir to Day Court, but still only the consort to a (formerly) human Queen.

Lucien lived a good life–he was powerful, influential and popular.

“He never forgave Elain for severing the bond with him,” Azriel said simply, piling a heap of scrambled eggs and a few slices of ham onto a plate.

“But he didn’t even want her!” Cassian exclaimed, throwing his hands.

“No,” Azriel agreed, as he filled his plate as well, “but his pride took a hit. He could’ve had a Cauldron Made mate, who was basically gifted to him because the Cauldron thought that I was dying. And yet, even with the bond, he couldn’t convince her to love him.

“She chose me, without a bond, over her mate. That must have been a mindfuck.”

Cassian sipped his tea and considered.

Even though it’s been hundreds of years, did Lucien still feel scorned? Perhaps. Lucien was a High Fae after all, a High Lord’s son and he was prideful, haughty and expected others to treat him according to his station. Especially after he found out about his paternity and went from being the seventh son of a High Lord to an Heir of a Court.

And then there was Elain Archeron. Barely into her twenties, a very newly minted Fae, who didn’t understand the ramifications of her actions and what they might lead to if she rejected the bond. Or maybe she did know, but didn’t care? Whatever it was, Elain chose a lesser Fae, an Illyrian, over her mate. Love trumped the mate bond.

“So what’s their angle exactly?”

“Fairly rudimentary, it seems,” Azriel said, buttering his toast. “Eris hires gangs to raid the humans. They attack, rape, pillage, burn villages. Lucien then sweeps in as a benevolent king-consort and offers them assistance and promises of retribution. Sometimes, it’s Eris who sweeps in–the benevolent Fae High Lord, who cares about the humans. The same gangs burn the ships of aid that the Fae send humans. Only them empty them beforehand, and then Eris gets the goods, loads them on his ships and sends them as if his own,”

“Mother’s tits,” Cassian breathed.

“Yeah,” Azriel sighed.

“What’s the endgame?”

“I think Lucien wants to dispose of Vassa and become King. He can’t do that without Eris’s help. But, if he becomes King, then Eris also gets a foothold in the Human Lands.

“My guess is that Lucien is tired of playing second fiddle in life. Helion is alive and well, and Lucien won’t be becoming High Lord of Day any time soon. He isn’t a king even–he is a Queen’s husband. That probably doesn’t do many favours to his ego–a Fae prince needing to walk behind Vassa all his life, unable to make any decisions, having no political clout. It’s frustrating.”

Cassian was shaking his head, his breakfast unfinished on his plate.

“What a fucking mess. Two of them too. That’s going to break Feyre and Rhys. They really thought that they could trust those two.”

“They shouldn’t have,” Azriel said coldly.

His dislike for Lucien never subsided.

Lucien had a claim on Elain, and that was a no-no for Azriel. No, fucking, no. Azriel was always extremely possessive of Elain, and in a way that was borderline psychotic. He wasn’t jealous–not at all. But he loved Elain in a way that a normal person would’ve found frightening.

Cassian readjusted his topknot and asked, “So, now what? Is that why you didn’t want Rhys to know?”

Azriel shrugged indifferently. “I don’t care if Rhys knows. It’s his headache. I am not getting involved in this drama with Eris. But I will take care of the mercenaries and the gangs. That’s why I didn’t want to take anyone other than the people who work with me and for me. I trust them.”

Cassian rose from his chair and said, “I got to go. I have to tell Rhys.”

Azriel waved his hand and offered a parting nod.

“You sure you will manage?” Cassian confirmed.

Azriel nodded, “don’t worry, Cass. Ellie and I will manage. The twins will come and some of my men.”

Cassian stopped by the door and queried, “You and El–you two good?”

“Really good. Yes, we are,” Azriel assured him.

“Well, that’s good. You say ‘hello’ to her from me, alright?”

“Of course. And she says ‘hello’ to you too.”

Cassian tied his jacket and asked, “are you planning on attending Rhys’s reception for the Vallahan ambassadors?”

Azriel scrubbed his chin and explained, “truth be told, don’t think Rhys wants me there,”

“Nonsense!” Cassian argued. “Feyre would want you there. Me, Nes. We want you to attend.”

“I’ll see. Will depend on whether we’ll be done with our mission.”

The man did not know what was happening and where he was. His eyes were covered, his ears too, and there was a gag in his mouth. All he knew was that he was being dragged somewhere, by two strong, burly males. There were muffled grunts and whispers all around him, sounds of other people shuffling, being pushed, falling, and cries of despair.

He was shaking, hoping he wouldn’t piss himself from fright. By the gods…how did it come to this? High Lord Eris promised protection! He promised complete anonymity. He promised that no one would ever find out.

He promised.

Did he break the promise or did someone find out, despite how hard they tried to hide their tracks? All the planning, all the careful preparation, all the discretion seemed to have been or nothing. They were found out. And now, they were about to pay the price.

He told his men–told them–not to touch the human women. But no. They didn’t listen. The last outposts that they had attacked, they had raped the women. Killed some, dragged others back to Prythian, to be sold on an underground market for human slaves. These slaves–female mostly–were a hot commodity. Numerous in numbers, there would never be a shortage of them. Kill one, buy another. The High Lords ‘officially’ looked the other way and did not condone or permit any abuse of humans. Fae and humans were ‘friends’ after all. What a load of crock. Fae and humans could never be equals. Fae were born to rule the humans and that was the end of the discussions. High Lord Eris, High Lord Tamlin, Lord Lucien and many others understood that. High Lords Helion, Kallias and Thesan were ‘neutral’. They never expressed their opinions on the matter, and played the part of mediators and allies to the humans. High Lord Tarquin was the ‘revolutionary’ (silly pup), who didn’t seem to understand that nothing would ever change in Prythian. That left High Lord Rhysand, and High Prince Azriel both of whom were married to former humans. Their positions were clear–humans were off limits.

And now he wished he’d listened. But the money was so good. Impossible to pass up.

Gods, where the hel were they??

The cruel and stealthy wraith twins were the ones to overpower him. How they did it, he still couldn’t figure out. But they did. It only took a few seconds and it was obvious that whoever trained them was an expert in extraction and ambush.

Suddenly, the hood was pulled off his head and he squinted in the sunlight.

He had no idea where they were. In the forest, but also, in the middle of an ancient, crumbling stone amphitheatre. What shocked him immediately was the people in the stands–mostly males, all Fae. They were talking loudly, making bets, coins being exchanged quickly, arms waving.

Was he going to fight?

Well, if he was going to fight, he stood a chance. He was 314 years old and most of his life, he’s been a fighter. Taking him down would not be easy.

He dared to exhale, a glimmer of hope worming into his chest.

Fuck. He might yet survive this.

Whatever ‘this’ was?

“Gentlefae, place your bets!” someone announced loudly. “You have another minute! Then we’ll greet our lady with a minute of standing silence!”

“Lady”? What lady?

The bets were placed in the din of noise and shoving and yelling, and he looked around, seeing his comrades chained to the iron rings which studded the walls of the arena.

Suddenly, a hush fell upon the crowd.

All the males lined along the seats and stood up.

They were like soldiers awaiting their general. Stiff and quiet and deferential.

He didn't know where the winged male came from, but there he was, strolling into the ring.

He was massive. Absolutely one beast of a man, his dark, leathery wings making him even taller. He walked slowly, his movements surprisingly graceful and almost delicate, considering his immense size and the aura of violence and savagery that he emanated. He was shirtless, his body stacked with muscles and decorated with tattoos and a multitude of scars. His hands and forearms were covered in a network of burn scars which looked absolutely brutal.

By the Mother!

No.

It was him.

High Prince Azriel someone cried out loudly and the men raised their fists in greeting.

Oh shit.

It was him, wasn’t it. Truly.

Lady Elain Archeron, High Princess of Night Court and the Court of Nightmares

What?

She was here too?

The men stood unmoving, watching the Prince.

“You’ve been found,” the Prince said clearly, his voice deep and dark and menacing. “You’ve been judged. And you’ve been found guilty.”

“On what charges?!”

The Prince cocked his brow and chuckled.

“Where to start? You’ve violated the peace treaty with the humans. You’ve taken bribes. You’ve committed murder, theft and rape. You’ve sold women into slavery. You’ve murdered children. You’ve sacked and burned seven villages and three towns. The financial devastation that you and your gang have caused is immeasurable. Shall I continue?”

“Who are you to judge me?”

“Oh, Shand, I am the judge, the jury, and the executioner.”

The Prince shrugged irreverently and then said, “but enough talking. My Princess demands a show, and is craving justice. And I shall give it to her.”

His Princess? What the fuck?

Shand looked around, feeling lost.

“Well, I demand a proper arrest, a trial and a real judge!” he tried.

“Believe me, sometimes, we don’t get what we want,” Azriel said softly. “Princess!!” he bellowed then, “shall we commence?!”

His men roared and banged their weapons and feet, eager for the show.

Azriel turned on his heels and said,

“You have three choices. You can fight me. With a weapon of your choice, if you wish. You can cut off your arms. Or you can cut off your penis.”

“What the fuck?” Shand gasped, stumbling over the uneven surface beneath his feet.

Azriel shrugged that horrific shrug again.

“Your choice. Fight. Or unman yourself, so you won’t be able to hurt another female or child. Or cut off your arms, so you won’t be able to kill or maim again.”

“No!”

“A fight then?” Azriel asked nonchalantly.

Panicking, Shand looked around and saw a table which was lined with all kinds of crude weapons. Pipes, and saws, hammers, and axes. Sprinting toward the table, Shand grabbed the first thing he could, which was a hammer, and swung it towards the Prince.

And the fight commenced.

He should’ve cut off his arms.

Hel, he should’ve cut off his cock.

But he didn’t.

Instead, now he was gurgling in the pool of his own blood, watching in sheer horror the Prince’s massive fist ramming through his chest, breaking the breast bone. And then, the last thing that he was aware of in his life was his lung begging ripped out of his chest cavity and squeezed like a sponge.

“Next!” Azriel announced, his hands bloodied up to his forearms, a savage smile on his lips.

The next male attempted to put up a decent fight, which lasted about seven minutes. Azriel liked indulging him. Up until the moment he ripped his head with his bare hands right off his shoulders.

It was chaos after that.

Some of the males rushed for the knives–not to fight, but to mutilate themselves.

Arms and penises were soon littering the ground, and males, collapsed over their own bodies were screaming and crying.

“That’s what happens when you touch human women,” Azriel said thoughtfully, looking at the carnage around him.

Six more males opted for a fight and Azriel gladly took them on. One fought poorly, and annoyed the Prince with his lack of skills, so he ended with a swiftly broken neck. Another had his throat slashed.

Azriel disembowelled one of the men with his dagger, the guts spilling with a wet thud onto the ground.

And so it went.

His men jumped into the ring as well–his most trusted soldier, eager for blood.

He stepped back and pressed against the wall. He was hot and sweat was rolling down his abdomen and his chest. He wiped his forehead, and then opened his arm.

Elain slipped into his embrace, unbothered by the blood and the gore.

She smiled at him lovingly and proudly.

“How did we do, treasure?” he asked.

Her eyes glinted with malicious light and she reached up and kissed him.

“Perfect, my love. Absolutely perfect. You’ve avenged them well.”

“Anything for you, princess.”

“I love you, Azriel.”

“I love you too, Elain.”

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel and elain #pro elriel #elain x azriel #elain #A Ballad Of Sorrow and Love #Elriel fanfic #Elriel canon #Elriel fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction

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