A Court of Shadows

by ALDBooks (tiggertink08)

Summary:

Azriel has begun to notice that his thoughts regarding a certain priestess have begun to shift. Before he can fully set aside his more inappropriate musings, Gwyn makes a proposal he can't resist.

Notes:

This story is set in my A Court of Light & Shadows universe which begins with the Elucien prequel 'A Breaking'. I have done my best to write each story on it's own, but they do happen simultaneously so I will be posting the chapters in chronological order. If you wish to follow them in that order, I will do my best to note when to switch over.

As stated in my notes on A Breaking, it's been a while since I've read ACOTAR all the way through, I'm currently in a reread (on ACOMAF now) but it's slow going as I'm also annotating. So, some of the smaller canon details may be inaccurate. Just go with it lol

Chapter 1

Notes:

This story is set in my A Court of Light & Shadows universe which begins with the Elucien prequel 'A Breaking'. I have done my best to write each story on it's own, but they do happen simultaneously so I will be posting the chapters in chronological order. If you wish to follow them in that order, I will do my best to note when to switch over.

As stated in my notes on A Breaking, it's been a while since I've read ACOTAR all the way through, I'm currently in a reread (on ACOMAF now) but it's slow going as I'm also annotating. So, some of the smaller canon details may be inaccurate. Just go with it lol

Part 1

---

Full night had descended over Velaris, blanketing the sky in a soft velvety black, strewn with sparking stars. The aurora that was most active this time of year had just begun it's dance of light across the sky, waves of green, purple, teal and magenta blending together as the Shadowsinger stood on the balcony of the House of Wind, hands in his pockets and head tilted back.

"Where the bloody hell are you, priestess?" he grumbled as another cloud of air puffed in front of his face. He was meant to escort Gwyn to Rhysand's house for dinner where everyone else was already waiting and she was supposed to have met him here twenty minutes ago.

Mor had taken Emerie shopping that morning and they'd gone straight to the River House afterward. Nesta had gone to help watch Nyx while Cassian and Feyre decorated the house and Elain helped the twins in the kitchen. He had no idea what Rhys had been doing all day while Azriel had been writing reports and preparing for the holiday, but it was freezing out here and he'd much rather be by his brother's fire, enjoying his booze.

It was the first time that someone outside of their circle had been invited to join them for Solstice dinner and he knew Gwyn had been nervous. She'd been talking his ear off all week about what she should wear, and whether she was expected to bring gifts. He'd done his best to assure her that no one would care what she wore, and no one expected her to bring gifts unless she wanted to, but he knew she fretted about it anyway. That was who Gwyn was.

His fingers brushed the velvet box in his pocket and he wondered again what had possessed him to purchase the gift when he'd seen it in a shop window a few days ago. Though, he supposed that wasn't entirely true. He knew why he'd bought it. He just wouldn't be admitting it outloud to anyone. Particularly to the gift's recipient.

Just then, as he was about to head down to the library and drag the priestess out no matter what she was wearing, he felt his shadows still, their attention drawn behind him. He didn't need to look to know who was there. Finally. "Took you long enough, Berdara..." His words died on his tongue as he turned and beheld the vision walking towards him.

Gwyn had chosen a simple, dark blue velvet dress that accentuated the copper tones in her hair which had been swept up into a braid that wrapped around her head like a crown, soft tendrils curling near her temples. Little sprigs of holly had been woven between the plaits, and her pale, freckled skin seemed to glow. He realized his mouth had dropped open a bit and snapped it shut, clearing his throat.

"You look- nice." Nice? Is that the best you can do? his shadows seemed to hiss at him as they offered other adjectives he might have used instead. Breathtaking. Exquisite. Stunning. Gorgeous. Ethereal. He mentally waved them off as Gwyn stopped before him, her gaze moving over him in a way that made his blood warm. 

"You clean up rather well yourself, Shadowsinger." She smiled and he suddenly had the insane urge to flare his wings out the way a peacock might show it's feathers. What is wrong with you? Delirium, he decided. She'd made him wait so long he was starving. 

"Ready?" she asked, gathering her skirt in one hand and stepping to his side so he could pick her up. He noticed the small satchel she carried and realized she must have decided to bring some gifts after all. He was curious what she'd gotten as he couldn't recall her actually going shopping in the last few days.

She'd made great progress over the last year, particularly after the battle with Koschei in the summer. It seemed, after yet another brush with death, the priestess had decided life was too short to be afraid of something so 'trivial' as leaving the safety of the Library and had begun joining her friends somewhat regularly in the city for lunch or a night out.

He'd had the pleasure of escorting her more than once, which was indeed a pleasure as he hadn't known many without wings who seemed to take as much joy in flying as she did. He smirked as he scooped her up, readjusting so he could carry her comfortably. "I was the one waiting for you, remember?"

She waved a hand dismissively, wrapping her arms around his neck as he approached the edge of the balcony and stretched his wings. "Nuance. Let's go, I'm starving."

He chuckled. "Dinner isn't for an hour," he said as he launched into the air without warning. She threw her head back, letting out a sound of pure delight as they streaked high into the air before he flattened out his wings and they began soaring towards the city. 

"Drinks then," she said, still laughing breathlessly. "I hear the High Lord has quite the wine collection."

"Indeed," he grinned. "I see how it is. You only want to hang out with us for the alcohol."

A careless shrug. "There are perks to being friends with the High Lady's sister."

He laughed, beginning their descent towards the River House in the heart of the city. They flew through the wards Rhysand had erected around the property and landed on the terrace just outside the doors to the living room. He set her gently on the ground and his shadows took the opportunity to dart out, playing with her hair as they gently pushed the pieces of Holly that had come loose during the flight back into her braid. 

Behave, he hissed at them, but Gwyn just smiled. "Hello," she said to them, lifting her hand to pat her hair, checking it was all in place. "Thank you." His shadows swirled happily as they settled back on his shoulders.

"Shall we?" he said, gesturing towards the door. He opened it as she nodded and stepped past him into the house. Mor's cackling laughter spilled out and his gaze darted to where she leaned against Emerie's shoulder, laughing at some story Cassian was telling while his mate shook her head with a small smile.

The Illyrian female was grinning, face flushed as she sipped a glass of wine and darted glances at the golden beauty beside her. He'd expected to be, at the very least, jealous when Mor had begun showing a marked interest in the pretty Valkyrie last summer but Azriel had been somewhat surprised to find he was quite at peace with it. He was happy that Mor was happy, and that was enough. He wasn't sure exactly when he'd finally moved on from her, probably sometime around when he'd begun thinking of his High Lady's sister instead, but he'd been more than happy to close that chapter of his life.

Thinking of Elain, he spotted her in the corner of the room, secluded from the merriment, though she watched with a fond smile. She was dressed in a deep red gown that flattered her coloring much more than the dark blues and blacks she often selected for formal events. Despite this, she still looked... not well. 

They'd all noticed how she'd begun withdrawing back into herself over the last year. She was by no means as destructive and angry as her older sister had once been, but she was clearly unhappy. Even if she did still smile and work in her garden and play with her nephew. That seemed to be all she did. She rarely ventured outside the house anymore according to Feyre and they were all worried about her, though no one seemed to know what to do for her.

Nesta's behavior had been much easier to deal with as she was lashing out and hurting not only herself but everyone around her, whereas Elain seemed content but also seemed to be barely present anymore. At least she was not consumed by her visions as she'd been when she'd first arrived in Prythian. No one was even sure if she still had visions at all. Still, they were all at a loss for how to help her, though Azriel had an idea where they might begin. 

He'd been reluctant to admit it at first, but Elain's decline had begun with the seemingly indefinite departure of her mate. Rather than celebrating his absence as he'd expected to, as he'd expected her to, Azriel had instead felt guilty, while Elain had begun to pull away from everyone.

Rhys had been right. He'd had no business inserting himself between a mated couple who had come to no resolution on their own relationship. Whether she chose to reject the bond or not, Elain had not yet been free to become involved with anyone else. He couldn't say for certain if what had happened last Solstice had in fact precipitated the lordling's decision to leave, but Azriel didn't believe in coincidence. He was, however, disappointed that Lucien hadn't decided to stay and fight as they'd expected.

Shrieking laughter brought his attention back to the room, shaking off thoughts that were better left alone. Feyre had brought Nyx down from the nursery and he was now attempting to waddle his way across the carpet towards his father. Next to him, he saw Gwyn, the apparent source of Nyx's laughter as she crouched behind Rhys' shoulder making silly faces.

She changed her expression which caused the boy to laugh so hard he fell backwards on his bum, little wings flapping in a desperate attempt to keep him upright. Rhys looked over his shoulder, seeming to just notice the source of his son's distraction and glared goodnaturedly at her. She straightened quickly, plastering on an innocent smile.

"So glad you could join us, priestess," Rhysand said dryly. Behind him, Nyx climbed to his feet again crying 'Wyn! Wyn!' The little High Lord had become smitten with Gwyn the first time they met, and both Rhys and Feyre had (not so jokingly) begged her more than once to become his part time nanny. 

Gwyn ignored Rhysand as she stepped beside his seat and knelt down to greet Nyx properly. "Hello sweetling," she cooed. Nyx wobbled his way over and into her arms where she rewarded him with a loud kiss on the cheek before handing him off to Rhys. "My Lord. Happy Solstice."

Even as he settled into his father's arms, Nyx stared adoringly at Gwyn. Rhys shook his head as he smiled ruefully.  "Good evening, Gwyneth. Happy Solstice."

The rest of the room, having now noticed their presence, exchanged greetings as he and Gwyn were ushered into the room and handed drinks. Gwyn sat next to Mor and Emerie while Azriel took a vacant chair next to where Cassian and Nesta sat. As conversation resumed, he found his gaze moving back towards Gwyn repeatedly while absently rubbing at his chest. 

When he'd seen her with Nyx just now, he'd sworn he'd felt something tug at him which, of course, made no sense. It wasn't the first time he'd seen her interact with his nephew, and even so why should he feel anything about it?

He'd never given much thought to children beyond the vague idea that he might have them someday. If he ever found his mate. Day by day though, that possibility seemed less likely and he sometimes wondered if he might not be happier settling for the kind of casual relationships he'd had in the past. He was no saint, to be sure. The last five hundred years would have been very miserable indeed if he didn't occasionally seek out companionship, even as he pined over another. It had been some time though, since he'd been with anyone... Perhaps it was time to do so again. Perhaps even on a more long term basis...

Dinner was called while he silently mused over this. "Wake up, Shadowsinger," Amren said as she passed on Varian's arm. "Your services are needed."

Azriel glanced up from the glass of whiskey he'd been contemplating to find both Gwyn and Elain hovering somewhat awkwardly near the back of the group as Feyre and Nesta were escorted by their mates into dinner and Amren by Varian with Mor and Emrie following, arm in arm.

Jumping to his feet, he cleared his throat and offered them each an arm. "Ladies."

Dinner was as chaotic as always, especially now that they had two additional guests, with dishes being passed every which way and five different conversations competing with each other for volume.  Azriel sat right in the middle of it all, Elain on one side, quietly pushing her food around as she observed everyone else, Gwyn on the other, having a spirited debate with Rhysand about some book or other. 

"That did not happen," Rhysand insisted, pointing his fork at the priestess. "I've read the book, I would remember."

"As have I, probably much more recently than you."

Rhys narrowed his eyes. "Are you calling me old?"

"I'm saying, perhaps my memory is a bit fresher. Sometimes we don't recall details with clarity over time, especially if we've read other stories in the meantime."

"Very diplomatic of you, Gwyneth," Rhys nodded with approval.

The priestess bowed her head graciously while Rhys' eyes glittered with amusement. Much like his son, he'd also taken a liking to Gwyn almost immediately. She seemed to have an innate ability to charm anyone she met, putting them at ease and making them feel seen. He wasn't sure how else she'd managed to befriend Nesta, having met her near the bottom of her downward spiral. She'd even managed to befriend Elain and was the only one he'd seen make the middle Archeron sister truly smile in months.

Azriel turned and asked Elain how her garden was coming along, feeling awkward when he realized he couldn't remember the name of the plant she'd last told him about that she'd been attempting to cultivate. Her response was short, but polite, nothing like the usual rambling answers she used to give when she'd go on and on for a near quarter of an hour about whatever her latest project was. 

He watched as her gaze moved around the table, between each of the paired off guests, particularly her mated sisters and noted the flash of sadness on her face. Rather than jealousy, he felt pity and sympathy for her and realized Mor was not the only one he'd moved on from. Wherever Lucien had ended up spending his Solstice, he hoped the idiot returned soon to reclaim his mate.

---

By the time they alited back on the balcony outside the House of Wind, it was well after midnight. Azriel would've stayed at the River House with everyone else so he could fly out to the cabin with his brothers in the morning, but had to return Gwyn so she could make the sunrise service in the Library. 

Gwyn hummed happily as he set her on her feet, her cheeks flushed from the few glasses of wine she'd had. She swayed and twirled to music of her own as she made her way inside and he was compelled to follow her as his shadows reached out to dance with her. 

Her satchel was considerably heavier than it had been when they left. She'd given her fellow Valkyries beautiful new silk ribbons that she'd hand stitched with intricate patterns to wear with their leathers since the ones they'd cut had become worn and yellowed from sweat and had instead been relegated to the handles of their weapons. In exchange, she'd received new books from both of them, as well as Rhysand. She had then proceeded to lament over the fact that she had not gotten him anything which he'd laughingly assured her was not necessary. The point of a gift, as he said, was that it was not expected to be reciprocated.

His own gifts, a new sheath for Truthteller from Cassian and Nesta, an elaborate buckle from Amren, a truly hideous scarf from Mor, and an enchanted listening device from Rhys and Feyre, were still sitting in a pile back at the River House. 

"Oh!" Gwyn whirled around. "I almost forgot. I have something for you."

"For me?" he asked, suddenly remembering the velvet box still in his pocket. "Actually, so do I." She blinked in surprise as he reached into his pocket and handed over the box before he could second guess himself anymore than he already had. 

She flicked the box open and gasped quietly. "Oh." When all she did was stare at it, he began to feel self conscious. It was too much. You knew it was too much when you bought it, so why the hell did you buy it??

He rubbed the back of his neck which had begun to prick with heat. "Er, it's nothing special, it just reminded me of you." Which was true, but it wasn't the only reason he'd bought it. Slowly, she hooked a finger around the long silver chain and pulled it out of the box so the pendant hung before her face. An oval locket with a pattern of swirling waves etched into it.

He'd been carrying it around for weeks after seeing it in a shop. He wasn't sure why he'd stopped, but as soon as he saw it, he knew he'd be purchasing it even before he'd truly made the decision. 

For the last year, any time Gwyn had a reason to dress up in something more than her leathers or robes, she'd worn that damn necklace he'd left for her with Clotho last Solstice. The one he'd originally bought for Elain.

She certainly seemed to like it, and was always happy to tell anyone who asked about it that it was 'a gift from a friend' whenever she wore it, but he'd seen Elain spot her wearing it at Nesta and Cassian's mating ceremony and the guilt had eaten him up every time he'd seen it since. As much as she seemed to like it, he'd wanted her to have something of her own. Something that had been purchased with her specifically in mind.

Thus, the locket she now held.

"I just thought, maybe if you had a picture of your sister... or if you just want to swap it for the one you wear your invoking stone on, it should fit in there-" For the second time that night she made his words die on his tongue as she stepped forward and kissed his cheek.

He startled slightly then, to his horror, blushed as she pulled away, hooking the chain around her neck and holding the locket up to the light to admire. The smile she gave him when she looked up sent his heartbeat stuttering. "Thank you. It's beautiful."

"You're welcome," he replied softly. 

Her face pinched into a pretty frown. Could frowns be pretty? Apparently. And since when had he started thinking of Gwyn as pretty? Since always, his shadows crooned. Truth. She was, undoubtedly, one of the most beautiful females he'd ever met, but it wasn't often he found himself dwelling on it. Yet how many times tonight had he admired the way her hair looked in the candle light, or how the color of her dress complimented her skin tone, or how her smile made her eyes brighter?

She was so close. She'd barely stepped back after kissing his cheek and was now standing so close her scent was all around him. Camellia flowers, and a rich, calming scent that made him feel nostalgic for something he couldn't quite put his finger on. 

She was reaching into her satchel now, rummaging around for something. "I'm afraid your lovely gift makes mine seem a bit... humble. All the same..." She withdrew her hand holding out a length of braided threads to him. Red, blue, and violet, woven tightly together with a glittering black bead in the center.

He blinked, smiling slowly as he realized what it was. "Is this one of your famous friendship bracelets?"

She nodded with a small smile of her own.

"I was wondering if I'd ever get one. I noticed you gave Cassian one for his birthday. I was starting to feel left out." He pushed his lips out in a pout.

"Well, you have one now, so stop your whining, you big baby."

He grinned, taking it from her hands and running his thumb along the threads. "The colors..."

"You, Cassian, and Rhysand," she said, pointing them out. "The bead is for your shadows."

His shadows purred in response, happy to be included. "Thank you. They say thank you as well," he added when one of his shadows nudged him.

"You're very welcome. Do you want me to help you put it on?"

"Sure." He held it back out to her, extending his wrist. He watched as long, delicate fingers deftly tied the ends into a knot, pausing before she pulled it tight. 

"You're supposed to make a wish." There was a mischievous glint in her eye, like she was daring him to tell her no. He narrowed his eyes at her before humoring her by closing them, pretending to whisper some secret to the universe. He heard her amused chuckle and felt her knuckles brush against the inside of his wrist as she tightened the strings. "There. Now, when it falls off, the wish will come true."

He opened his eyes and smirked. "Is that so?" She nodded sagely. "And what did you wish for?" he asked, nodding at the bracelet on her own wrist that looked like it was about to fall off any day now.

"Ah, that would be telling." Her eyes twinkled, lips curling in a way that drew his attention to them and suddenly his entire perception of her changed, as though the picture had been askew and was now righted.

She wasn't just his objectively pretty friend and pupil. She was a stunningly beautiful woman that made his pulse race and his thoughts turn a little muddy. He glanced lower to where the neckline of her dress swooped across her collarbone, freckled skin peeking out, making him wonder how many more spots were hidden beneath the soft fabric. He took in the way the velvet clung to the curves of her body, the same ones he'd seen every morning, wrapped in tight leather but now wondered how they'd feel to run his hands over...

His mind fragmented at the realization that he was attracted to her. When had that happened? Then of course, his mind chose to remind him of the exact circumstances that had brought her here in the first place. Exactly why she had spent the last three years living in the Library and forced himself to stop before those thoughts went any further.

Gwyn was his friend, not some female from the town to spend his evening with. She wasn't flirting with him, she was just naturally vivacious. He had no right to think such things about her, but heavens, was he thinking of them now... 

He could feel his mind spiraling and decided to retreat before he made a fool of himself.

"I should get to bed," he said, taking a step back. "I have a battle to win tomorrow and Rhysand and Cassian will not take pity on me for lack of sleep."

Gwyn cocked her head "Ah, yes. The famous snowball fight. I heard about that."

"Then you understand why I must bid you goodnight, fair lady," he said, retreating another step and bowing. Fair lady? Who was he? He had to get away from her right now. She'd been making him think and say odd things all night. He needed time to think and reevaluate this new development. 

She giggled, dipping into a graceful curtsey. "But of course. Fare thee well, good knight. I wish you luck."

Despite himself, he chuckled. "Good night, Gwyn."

She turned towards the stairs leading down to the Library and looked back over her shoulder. "Good night, Azriel." Once again his heart beat out of time at the sound of his name in her lovely, musical voice. He couldn't recall her ever actually saying it before. He was always Shadowsinger to her.

As he turned to walk to his rooms, he heard her begin humming again, the sound fading away as they moved further apart. He heard his shadows hum back and joined them under his breath.

Notes:

Fun fact: the camellia flower is supposed to symbolize love, admiration, and affection. Also, that richer scent Az detected is tea plant, which camellia flowers are commonly grown on

Chapter 2

Gwyn fell back on her bed after sunrise service, still singing to herself. The Solstice service had been just as beautiful as it always was and she'd felt light and exhilarated as she'd sung. 

Her fingers lifted to touch the locket that hung between her breasts beneath her robes, picturing the swirls and waves engraved on the case. She hadn't had a picture of Catrin to put in it, sadly. Any she might have once owned had been lost the night the temple had been raided. But her invoking stone had indeed fit inside it and she'd been happy to swap out the simple ribbon she'd been wearing it on for the beautiful locket.

A knock sounded at her door, startling her. She scrambled to her feet, hastily checking that the locket and chain were hidden beneath her robes before answering. She wasn't sure why she was hiding it. It wasn't like the gift was a secret, but it felt special somehow, and she wanted to keep it to herself for the moment.

"Why aren't you dressed?" Nesta said, barging in as soon as the door was open.

Gwyn blinked, looking between Nesta, who was now rifling through her dresser and Emerie who stood leaning against the wall across the hall as her wings were too large for the tiny dorm room. She'd only just seen them both a few minutes ago at the service, yet they'd both somehow managed to change out of their dresses into leggings, boots and sweaters in that time. 

"Pardon?" she asked, returning her attention to Nesta. "I am dressed." She glanced down at herself just to make sure she wasn't dreaming and had been somehow walking around naked. She had been rather tired that morning.

"She means, why are you still in your robes," Emerie offered. "Mor's waiting to take us to the cabin."

"The cabin? I thought that was a family thing?"

"It is," Nesta said, tossing a pair of leggings and wool socks at her. "You're family. Emerie's coming too. Mor invited her personally," she flashed a lascivious grin before returning to Gwyn's meager wardrobe. 

Gwyn looked back at her friend who was blushing but grinning. "Really?"

Emerie shrugged. "Took her long enough. I thought I was going to die if I had to wait any longer for her do something."

"Told you you should've made the first move," Nesta said, holding up the two sweaters Gwyn owned and glancing between them before tossing one at her. "We really need to take you shopping."

Gwyn looked down at her feet, embarrassed. "Hey," Nesta said more gently. "I didn't mean any offense. I know you're used to a more modest lifestyle, I was too for a long time. But Rhysand has offered the three of us a salary for our work training the other Valkyries. It's not charity to spend some of that on yourself. You earned it."

Gwyn worried her lip, considering Nesta's words. Unlike Nesta, Gwyn's 'modest lifestyle' hadn't been temporary. She'd lived her whole life dependent on the generosity of others, from the matrons of the temple, to her High Lord. Having money of her own was something new for her. It was why she and her sister had loved making the friendship bracelets. Thread and beads cost pennies and she could make several from a small bit of supplies. Plus, she'd always enjoyed making gifts by hand.

She'd had a hard enough time accepting the leathers she'd been given after she started training, and the only time she ever accepted anything from another person was when it was in the form of a gift as she considered it the height of incivility to refuse.

But, for years she'd felt out of place. Like she didn't quite belong in the places she'd settled though she'd managed to make a- mostly- happy life for herself. Now, after meeting Nesta and Emerie and beginning her journey to become a Valkyrie, that was starting to change. She'd begun to feel like she'd outgrown the Library in a way, as grateful as she was to have been brought her- she would not have met these two incredible women if not. As a result, she'd started to really think about what that meant for her future. Perhaps, this small thing was the next step towards that.

After a moment, she nodded and Nesta grinned. "Good. We'll talk about that later. Now, get dressed. We'll be outside."

They left her to change, which she did quickly, pulling on a pair of boots and a warm cloak, and pulling her hair back into a simple braid. As promised, her friends waited just outside the door and together they made their way up out of the Library. 

Morrigan waited near the stairs looking as radiant as the sun with her golden hair and skin. She beamed at the three of them as they approached. "Ready ladies?" She led them down the stairs until they reached the edge of the wards before the all linked hands and winnowed out.

They landed abruptly in the snow several yards away from a beautiful cabin tucked in a snowy clearing surrounded by evergreen trees. "Oh, wow," Gwyn breathed, looking around. It was a picturesque setting fit for a painting.

"It's something isn't it?" Mor asked. Gwyn nodded mutely. 'It's one of my favorite places in the world. Come on." She hooked one arm through Gwyn's, the other through Emerie's and they trudged along through the snow behind Nesta. 

They were greeted at the door by the High Lady and her sister, Elain. The terrifying Amren sat scowling in the corner. "What's with her?" Nesta asked her sister, accepting the mug Elain handed her.

Feyre smirked, "Varian went back home this morning."

"Ah," Nesta said, looking amused.

"Don't speak about me as though I'm not in the room, girl," Amren hissed. "I can hear you just fine."

Nesta snickered and went to join her in the living room as Feyre directed Mor and Emerie to a table loaded with food. Elain passed another mug to Gwyn which she accepted, inhaling the smell of cinnamon and spices. "Cider?"

"With a little something extra to warm you up," Elain said with a wink before returning to her seat. Nesta had often remarked that she was worried about her sister. How she'd become cold and self isolated, but she had always been friendly towards Gwyn. 

She made her way over the table as the others took their seats. "Nes," she called over her shoulders as she surveyed the selection of fruits, pastries, meats and eggs. "Did you want anything?"

"Not right now, I ate before service."

"You went to service this morning?" Feyre asked, sounding surprised.

"Yes," Nesta replied as though it were obvious. "Emerie and I went to see Gwyn sing."

"You sing?" Mor asked, looking over the back of the couch. "How did I not know this? You should join us for song nights at Rita's."

Nesta snorted. "Gods, yes. Anything to keep Cassian off the stage."

They all laughed as Gwyn took a seat next to Amren who flashed her teeth in a gesture that might have been a smile if it didn't make her shiver. The others were spread out in such a way that the chair was the only option unless she wanted to squeeze beside someone else and she idly wondered how the boys were meant to fit in here with their wings.

"What about Azriel?" she asked.

Mor exchanged a quick glance with Feyre and Amren. "He can sing. He just.... doesn't."

Before she could ask why, the subject changed and everyone moved on. The cider continued to fill their cups as the morning passed, and the conversation became gradually more inappropriate. Eventually, the boys tramped back through the cabin, faces red from the cold and hair wet. Rhysand shook his head while Cassian pouted, both moving towards their mates. 

"Who won?" Feyre asked as Rhysand bent to kiss her. 

"Who do you think?" Azriel said, swaggering in with a smug smile.

Mor groaned, tossing a bag of coins to Amren and a smaller one to Feyre. Rhys faked outrage while she smirked. "You bet against me, mate?"

"It's nothing personal, darling," she crooned, patting his cheek. "Just business."

Rhys scoffed, scowling at Azriel who had moved to the table and begun scarfing down left over food. "I know you cheated."

"Don't be a sore loser, brother," he tossed over his shoulder. "Just admit defeat."

"Never," Rhysand hissed, crossing his arms over his chest. Gwyn smiled behind her hand. He put her in mind of a toddler as he scowled while Cassian had thrown himself across Nesta's lap, still pouting. She'd heard Feyre call them 'Illyrian babies' before and rather agreed with that assessment at the moment.

"Get off, you great brute," Nesta said, shoving at her mate who flopped to the ground with a groan of protest. "You're getting me all wet."

Cassian popped up, grinning before launching himself at her again, burying his no doubt freezing face in her neck and his hands under her sweater while she squealed and swatted at his head. "You ass!" she screamed when he finally relented. He kissed her nose before dancing out of reach of her fist and feet.

"You loooove me!" he sang, making his way to the table as well. Nesta just glared at him, fuming, though Gwyn could see her lip twitch in the hint of a smile. They all chuckled at the couple's antics as the boys quickly polished off the rest of the food before filing out the door again.

"Where are they going now?" Gwyn wondered.

"The sauna," replied everyone but Emerie and Elain.

"Sauna?"

"Another of their traditions," Mor explained.

"Yes," Amren snarked. "Because apparently nothing says male bonding like sitting around a hot, steamy room, naked and sweaty."

"As if you're not a fan of naked and sweaty men," Nesta smirked. Amren's grin was sharp.

A few minutes later, there was a yelp, and a loud thump followed by the sound of a slamming door. Rhys could be heard pounding on said door, demanding to be let back in. Gwyn raised her brows while the others burst out laughing. 

"Again?" Mor asked.

Feyre shrugged. "It's too easy. He'll make me pay for it later, but it's always worth it."

At Gwyn and Emerie's confusion, Amren explain, "It's bad form to get your cock up when in a room with said naked males, so our High Lady likes to torture her mate by sending him scandalous images until he gets kicked out. They throw him out in the snow to cool off and won't let him in until he's learned his lesson."

"Oh, that's cruel," Emerie laughed.

Gwyn's mind had begun to wander as it suddenly conjured a picture of the three beautiful males lounging around a room naked and sweaty. Two of them were indistinct beyond their faces, but one... 

She'd seen Azriel without a shirt once, when he was sparring with his brothers one particularly hot summer day. The sleek, toned muscles of a warrior built for speed and stealth, slicked with sweat. The swirling tattoos that covered his shoulders, much like his shadows... She honed in on that image now, trying to picture what the rest of him looked like and was suddenly picturing herself instead, on top of him, and naked...

She sputtered into her drink as she hastily wiped the image away. Luckily no one else noticed her reaction, or at least pretended not to, as they heard another yelp and slamming door outside. This time though, it was Azriel shouting to be let back in. For a moment, she froze, fearing he'd somehow seen the image she'd been picturing. But no, that was ridiculous. Still, she was blushing heavily as the rest of the women glanced around with surprised faces.

"Huh," Nesta said thoughtfully. "I expected my idiot to be next."

Gwyn noticed the High Lady's gaze moving between the door and herself, a slow smile forming. "Nes," she said casually. "Have you told your friend about the wingspans?"

Elain, who was also blushing, somehow blushed even more. She hid her face behind her giant mug, piquing Gwyn's curiosity. Emerie began snickering and she realized it must be an Illyrian thing. "Oh, yes," Nesta said, turning a somewhat frightening grin on her. "Apparently, there's a theory that their wingspan coordinates to the size of their cock." Elain coughed as Emerie nodded in agreement, noting she'd heard some of the women at the war camp whisper about it before.

"We haven't been able to make a comparison for Azriel," Nesta continued. "So, you'll have to let us know if he really is the biggest."

Gwyn choked, spewing liquid from her mouth as she coughed. Mor, Nesta, Feyre and Emerie laughed while Amren leaned over and slapped her on the back with a grin. "Easy there, girl. Don't drown yourself."

Gwyn's face was on fire as she used the towel someone handed her to mop up her sweater and the table in front of her. "That's not- I mean, we're not- we're just-" She snapped her mouth shut before she made it any worse.

The way the others were looking at her, with lewd smiles and knowing expressions- she was mortified. She'd thought she'd kept her feelings for the Shadowsinger well hidden, but it was clear now that wasn't the case. 

She wasn't stupid. She knew he didn't see her that way. If she didn't train with him every morning, he might not see her at all. She also wasn't naive enough to believe he didn't have a past. She'd heard the rumors about his long unrequited love for Morrigan, and had overheard more than a few of the women in town gossip about his prowess in the bedroom. 

Azriel was a legend in the Night Court. The fearsome SpyMaster, the deadly Shadowsinger, the bastard Illyrian princeling. Why would he ever look twice at her? A scarred, broken, priestess who, up until a few months ago, had been too scared to leave the Library? 

Her face must have shown her mortification for the other's took pity on her, quickly changing the subject until it was time to prepare dinner. 

Gwyn remained where she was, staring at her mug of cider that seemed to somehow refill itself, and fiddling with the necklace beneath her sweater. She felt eyes on her and looked up to see Elain watching her with a sympathetic expression and a small smile.

---

Azriel sat across the room from Gwyn, Elain having given up her seat to him to sit with Emerie and Mor instead, as the evening wound down. Night had fallen a few hours ago and the previous late night, and long day were catching up to him. He watched the firelight dance through the copper strands in Gwyn's hair as she leaned her chin on a fist, her eyelids drooping. Somehow, he managed to catch her eye from across the room, silently nodding towards the door in question and she nodded back.

"Well," he said, getting to his feet. "I'm going to call it a night."

"Already?" Feyre asked. He gave her a dry look.

"It's nearly two in the morning."

Everyone glanced at the clock on the mantle as though just realizing the time. "Oh. In that case, we should probably get Nyx back to his bed." She looked towards the bedroom where she'd lain the sleeping infant several hours ago.

"Indeed," Rhys agreed. Elain got to her feet without comment, gathering dishes to take to the kitchen. Gwyn wobbled up to her feet to help and soon everyone was packing up. The cabin was put back to rights in no time and they all began filing out in pairs, Elain and Amren following Feyre and Rhys who disappeared beyond the wards first.

Cassian threw a protesting Nesta over his shoulder and stomped off through the snow before lowering her into his arms and launching into the sky. Mor and Emerie disappeared as soon as they crossed the ward line as well, leaving him alone with Gwyn once again. 

Azriel waited as she stumbled towards him through the snow, giggling, and eyed her closer. "Are you... drunk?"

She nodded, giggling some more as she bumped into his chest. He caught her before she could fall and looked down at her. She smiled at him with a dopey grin and he couldn't help but chuckle. 

He'd never seen her have more than a couple of drinks at any given time, usually spaced out over several hours, always in control. Drunk Gwyn was new and he was fascinated to see what she was like. "Well, then. Let's get you home shall we?"

She swayed forward, pressing her body against his and throwing her arms around his neck. His hands landed on the dip in her waist and unbidden, the same image his mind had produced earlier that day that had gotten him kicked out of the sauna, returned. 

"Mm, let's go," she purred, lips only a few inches away and oh so tempting. His shadows danced excitedly around them and it was an effort to peel her body away from him and pull her into his arms so they could fly. Although, remembering the story he'd heard about Rhys and Feyre's escapades mid-flight, he half wondered if he could pull off flying with those long legs wrapped around him...

No. Focus. Just get her home. 

He swallowed a groan as she snuggled against his chest, her lips brushing his neck. Cauldron boil me. He pushed off the ground, getting them airborne as quickly as possible. She didn't squeal or scream as she normally did and a few minutes later he was surprised to find she'd fallen asleep. 

He chuckled to himself. Apparently drunk Gwyn, was also a sleepy Gwyn. 

But, her lips were still against his neck, her breath warming his skin and they were so soft. And he could smell her scent, even with wind all around them. It was pure torture, and he didn't think he'd ever flown home so fast in his life. 

Cassian and Nesta had already disappeared to their rooms by the time they returned, and Gwyn hadn't stirred a bit as he landed. He wavered for a moment, unsure what to do. As his feet began moving down the hall, he told himself, it was because he didn't want to frighten any of the priestesses who might still be awake by wandering down into their dorms in the middle of the night, but really, he just didn't want to let her go yet.

He probably should have put her in one of the guest rooms, but instead ended up gently laying her down on his own bed, peeling off her boots before covering her with the massive blanket his mother had knitted for him years ago. 

"This is definitely a bad idea," he told himself as he stared down at her, looking so small in his massive bed. "A very bad idea."

And yet, there he was, removing his own boots and sliding under the blanket on the other side of the bed, careful to leave plenty of space between them as he stretched out across from her.

"A horrible idea," he muttered again, as his eyes drooped closed, surrounded by warmth and her soothing scent.

Chapter 3

His wing ached, he was far too warm, and something was tickling his face.

Azriel swiped a hand at the errant shadow that was brushing across his nose and tried to roll over only to find his chest being weighed down by something. And that didn't feel like a shadow, it felt like.... hair.

Azriel's eyes snapped open, suddenly alert, as he stared up at the ceiling. He'd definitely been laying on his side when he'd fallen asleep. One of his wings was bent at an awkward angle beneath him, which explained the ache in his shoulder. Glancing down, he was greeted by a cloud of copper hair as he realized he and Gwyn must have both moved at some point during the night because they were both now laying in the middle of the bed.

Which was even more odd because Azriel had long ago trained himself to sleep in one position, unmoving. A habit picked up from being forced to sleep in precarious places while on missions. As he took stock of his body and the placement of his limbs, he felt Gwyn's head on his chest, tucked right under his chin, one arm slung across his waist, one of his wrapped around hers, a leg hooked between his own, and the rest of her body curled into his side. Which explained why he was so warm.

Before he could try to extract himself from her, one of his shadows nudged her cheek and she startled awake, nearly smashing into his nose. She sat up abruptly, winced, and flopped back down on his chest with a moan. She stilled when he grunted at the impact. Glancing up slowly, their eyes connected for a half a second before she gasped and scrambled back across the bed. Grabbing her head, she buried her face in the pillow, groaning, and curled up in a ball.

Laughing quietly at her reaction, he rolled up onto his elbow, stretching his abused wing out behind him. "Morning."

"I had too much cider," she groaned.

"Just a little."

"Why am I in your bed?"

"You don't remember?"

She peeked up at him, frowning. "The last thing I remember is...Cassian telling a story about his last trip to Summer."

That had been a while before they'd left. Feeling playful for whatever reason, he decided to have some fun. "That's it?" he chuckled. "So, you don't remember singing?"

Her frown deepened. "No."

"Or dancing with Mor?"

"I danced?"

He nodded, perfectly serious. "On a table. Cassian tried to join you but the table broke."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, no."

"Oh, yes. Rhysand kicked you both out. That was his favorite table. Apparently it's where he and Feyre -"

Her hand shot out, covering his mouth. "No, stop. No more."

He lost the battle with control, rolling onto his back as he laughed. His shadows darted around him, chasing the sound. Realizing he was teasing her, Gwyn scowled, smacking his chest and making him laugh harder.

"You bastard! What really happened?"

Still laughing quietly, he caught her hand, bringing it to his mouth as he rolled back over. The action was so natural he didn't immediately realize he'd done it. "Nothing really. I didn't even realize you were drunk until we were leaving and you couldn't stop giggling. You fell asleep on the flight home and rather than risk scaring any of the other priestesses, I brought you here."

"Ugh," Gwyn tugged her hand away, rolling over so her face was in the pillow again. "I hate you," she grumbled.

"No you don't," he said cheerily.

"So I really didn't do anything embarrassing?" She peeked at him again.

He canted his head, pursing his lips. "Hmm, define embarrassing."

"Be serious!" she pleaded.

He smiled, shaking his head. "No. You were fine, don't worry." His hand started to move to brush away a strand of hair that had fallen in her face before he realized what he was doing and he abruptly rolled off the bed to his feet. "We should head to breakfast before the others get there."

He grabbed fresh clothes from his dresser and headed to the bathing chamber to change, leaving Gwyn still laying with her face in the pillow. When he emerged, she was standing in front of the small mirror hanging above his dresser, rebraiding her hair. She tied it off with a bit of ribbon and followed him out of the room. They must have slept longer than he realized, as they were the last ones to the table. 

"Well, hello, hello," Mor purred, catching sight of them. She'd been spending more and more nights at the House, but in her guest room as far as any of them knew. The women smirked while Cassian looked between them with raised brows. "Nice of you to finally join us, sleeping beauties."

"Did you finally decide to move in, Gwyn?" Cassian asked, completely oblivious to the subtext of his companions. It was a fair question though, and one that Azriel was unaccountably interested in the answer to.

Gwyn had been contemplating leaving both the Library and the priestess hood, much to the agreement and encouragement of her friend's. Emerie herself had sold her shop to her cousin's family at a premium several months back before moving into the House of Wind at Nesta's invitation.

Gwyn blushed slightly as she took her seat across from Nesta, next to Mor. Azriel took the seat on her other side, across from Cassian. "Uh, not exactly. I had a little too much to drink yesterday and didn't want to disturb my dorm mates so I stayed in one of the guest rooms. Hope that's ok, Nes?" Mor lifted a brow at the partial lie.

Nesta shrugged. "Of course. I told you, whenever you're ready we'll have one of the rooms set up for you permanently." A sly smile curled her lips. "Did you find one you liked?"

Gwyn continued to blush, but poured herself some coffee and loaded her plate as though nothing were amiss. "I didn't get a good look last night, just picked the first one I found. I'll take a better look later."

Emerie perked up. "Wait, is this happening? Are you actually considering it for real?"

Gwyn shrugged. "I suppose."

"Ha!" Emerie grinned, high-fiving Nesta.

"We definitely need to go shopping now," said Nesta.

"Shopping?" Mor piped in, eyes shining with excitement. Azriel and Cassian both shook their heads. 

Nesta's eyes narrowed on Gwyn. "What is that?"

Before she could stop it, Mor tugged the chain peeking out of Gwyn's collar, revealing the locket. Gwyn made a grab for it, but it was already too late.

Emerie whistled low. "Another Solstice gift from your secret admirer?" she teased. Gwyn flushed.

Secret Admirer? Is that what she'd told them?

"What's this about an admirer?" Cassian asked, sounding for all the world like an overprotective brother. 

Emerie smirked at Cassian. "Last year, someone left an anonymous gift for Gwyn. Clotho wouldn't tell her who it was, just that it was 'from a friend'. Looks like they left another one."

"It wasn't an admirer," Gwyn said defensively. "Someone was just trying to be nice."

"People don't leave gifts that expensive for strangers just to be nice, dear," Nesta said.

Azriel felt heat bloom in his cheeks and busied himself with his breakfast. Even as he felt Cassian's eyes burning into him as Gwyn said- "And anyways, this was actually from Azriel."

The whole table stilled for a beat. "Nice work, Az," Cassian muttered grinning like a fiend. Azriel cursed internally. There would be an interrogation later, probably involving Rhys, the little shit. Cassian was the worst gossip.

Before anything more could be said, Rhysand's voice sounded in his head, urgent. It startled him enough he dropped his fork, drawing the whole table's attention.

"Az. I need you at the River House, now. I have a feeling you're about to take a trip."

"Where?"

"Not sure yet. Just hurry."

Without a word, he stood from the table, abandoning his breakfast and hurried back to his room to change into his leathers. He was still buckling the last of the straps when he emerged again, headed straight for the balcony. Cassian was on his feet in a heartbeat but he waved him off.

"What's happening, Az?" Mor asked, sounding worried.

"Not sure yet," he said over his shoulder, rechecking he had all of his weapons. "Rhys just said it was urgent. He didn't ask for anyone else though, so I'm sure it's not too serious. I'll be back." He said it to no one in particular, but his eyes still caught Gwyn's before he stepped off the balcony and snapped his wings out, taking flight.

---

"I hope everything's alright," Gwyn said after Azriel had disappeared. 

"I'm sure it's fine," Mor said, gesturing vaguely. "Like he said, Rhysand hasn't called for anyone else so it's probably just something he needs Azriel's particular skills for. Try not to worry," she said, laying a hand on Gwyn's arm.

"Why don't you ladies go shopping, like you were thinking about," Cassian suggested. "That sounds like a great distraction. And you can finish convincing Gwyn to move in by forcing her to buy things to decorate her new room with."

Nesta and Emerie exchanged a glance, and Mor grinned, waggling her eyebrows. "Oh, yeah. We're doing this."

Cassian stood, chuckling. "Well, I'll leave you ladies to it then."

"Where are you going?" Nesta asked.

"I'm going to see my nephew," he said, which they all knew meant he was going to bug Rhys about whatever mission he was sending Az on. "I'll see you later," he promised, dropping a kiss on her forehead. "Have fun," he called to the others before he too dropped off the balcony. 

"You," Mor said, pointing at Gwyn. "Hurry up and finish your breakfast then go change. We've got a busy schedule." She rubbed her hands together excitedly which made Gwyn a little nervous, but she obeyed nonetheless.

Notes:

For those also wanting to read A Court of Light, Ch1 is next in chronological order and will be posted in the next few days

Chapter 4

Notes:

I forgot to mention before that thanks to SJM, I picture almost everyone in Night to have either Irish or Scottish accents (the bat boys are Scots). And while I always read the rest of Prythian just about as some regional English Accent, for whatever reason, I picture Spring as French 😂 don’t ask my why I have no idea

Do with that what you will lol

 

This chapter follows A Court of Light Ch 1

By the time the sun was setting, they were trudging up the stairs again, each of them loaded down with bags. Though they'd mostly focused on a wardrobe for Gwyn and items for her new room, the day had also become a shopping spree for all of them. 

Gwyn had been shocked by the amount of money Rhys had deposited into her account, let alone that she even had an account in the first place, and even still they'd managed to make a significant dent in it by the end of the day.

They reached the living room, dropping their bags in a pile. The ones belonging to Nesta and Emerie instantly disappeared into their rooms, both women nodding in thanks at the ceiling as they collapsed into chairs. 

"I'm famished," Mor complained. A large tray of fruits, meats and cheeses appeared on the coffee table. "Thank you, dear."

"How about a drink?" Emerie requested. A large picture of water and two bottles of wine appeared beside the tray. She grinned. "Thank you!"

"I love this House," Nesta said, leaning forward to pluck an olive from the tray. A slice of chocolate cake appeared on the small table beside her. 

"No fair!" Mor cried, looking pleadingly at the ceiling. No cake appeared beside her and Nesta smirked.

There was a note tucked beneath the plate of cake which Nesta tugged out. "Looks like Cassian is staying at the River House."

"Girl's night?" Mor asked.

"Fine with me," Emerie said, taking a swig of wine straight from the bottle. 

"Sure," Nesta shrugged. "We can get Gwyn settled in. I think I know the perfect room for her."

It didn't escape Gwyn's notice that the 'perfect room' Nesta had in mind was right next to Azriel. Still, almost two hours later, the floor was strewn with bags and paper wrappings, her new room was now covered in colorful pillows and blankets and art. A fluffy white rug covering the floor. There were new soaps and hair washes in the bathing chamber, clothes and shoes in the closet and dresser and even some new pieces of lingerie tucked away in one of the drawers.

She'd been hesitant to buy it at first, but Mor had insisted she try it on, and Cauldron, if she hadn't felt powerful the minute she shimmied into the lacy undergarments. It hadn't taken much for her to cave in and purchase them. 

Now, they all lay sprawled on the surprisingly large bed, passing a bottle of wine between them. Gwyn reached up to fiddle with the new earrings she'd also been talked into getting, which were now beginning to itch, but Nesta smacked her hand away.

"Don't touch it. Let it heal."

"I'm not so sure about this," she mused, fingering the dainty chain that connected the hoop at the top of her pointed ear to the stud at the bottom. 

"Why not?" Emerie asked. "It looks badass."

"I don't know, kind of seems like a hazard. What if it gets caught on something?"

"You don't wear the chain while you're fighting," Mor said dryly. "It's for fashion."

Gwyn frowned, but didn't argue. It had looked pretty neat when she'd first seen it after it was done.

"So, what now?"Emerie asked.

"I have a question," Mor said, raising her hand.

"Yes, Mor?" Emerie asked, sounding amused.

The blonde rolled up to look over the other two girls at Gwyn. "What is going on with you and Azriel?"

Her question caught all of their interest, and soon Gwyn found herself the object of their full attention. "Er, nothing?"

"It didn't look like nothing," she said, glancing at the chain peeking out of Gwyn's tunic. "That was some necklace. I don't think I've ever seen Az buy jewelry for anyone."

"Honestly," she insisted. "There's nothing going on. We're just friends."

"But you like him," she guessed.

"I-" she started to protest and then realized there wasn't much point. They'd all know she was lying. "Yes."

"Does he know?"

Gwyn flinched. "Of course not!"

"Why not?"

"Well, because, I-" she faltered, unable to come up with a straight answer. She didn't know how to say she didn't think he saw her that way and that she felt she was miles out of his league, without sounding like she was fishing for compliments.

"Let me try a different question," Mor said. "Do you want to pursue something more than friendship?"

"I-Yes."

Nesta and Emerie perked up. "Are you ready for... that?" Nesta asked delicately. 

"Sex? I think so?" Gwyn nodded.

"Azriel would certainly be a good one to explore with," Mor mused. "Not that I have any personal experience, but I've heard stories- and we all know how he feels about boundaries."

They nodded. That was something Gwyn had noticed about him early on. The Shadowsinger was very aware of how he acted around the priestesses. Always careful not to touch any of them without permission, even simple, meaningless touches, always aware of his body language. She did trust that he would respect her boundaries.

"Thing is," Mor continued. "If you're hoping for more than just sex... well, to be honest, I'm not sure Azriel's ever really learned what love actually is. Until recently, he hasn't had many good examples. Rhysand's parents were- ambivalent at best, and his parents- well that's not my story to tell."

Gwyn felt a twinge of sadness, wondering what life must have been like for Azriel growing up. She knew he didn't have a relationship with his father, didn't really know much of anything about his mother, and that he eventually became Rhys' adopted brother. But how those circumstances had come to be, she had no idea. If his story was anything like the one Nesta had shared about Cassian...

Her heart hurt as she pictured a sad little boy with Azriel's hazel eyes, shadows hovering around his shoulders. When had he even received his shadows? She'd done some research on Shadowsingers not long ago. Or tried to, rather. Not a lot was known about them other than they could communicate with their shadows somehow and it wasn't an ability one was born with. According to one of the texts she'd read, Shadowsingers acquired their shadows through significant trauma.

She thought again of the scars that covered his hands and wondered if whatever had caused them was related to his abilities. They'd never bothered her the way they clearly bothered him. She could only imagine the kind of pain he must have endured to still had a physical reminder of it, especially with his Illyrian blood. And the recovery process for scars like that... he would've likely had to learn to use his hands again. To even be able to form a fist, let along grip a blade. And for him to now be one of the Night Court's most elite fighters?

No, his scars didn't bother her. To her, they were a sign of his strength, his endurance, his unwillingness to relent. But she was curious.

"So you don't think it's a good idea?"

"I mean- that's not to say that he can't learn," Mor continued. Her expression was thoughtful and a little bit sad. "I think he's just been very lonely, for a very long time, and he doesn't really know how to let people in. The rest of us, we all kind of shoved our way into his life. It's taken centuries to get him to open up even a little bit. But with the right person... In my experience, people tend to be a lot more open after they've been physically intimant."

She trailed off, giving Gwyn a pointed look.

Gwyn blew out a breath, grabbing the bottle from Nesta and taking a long sip. "How did we get from sexperiments to deep soul diving?"

"Sexperiments?" Nesta snorted.

Gwyn nodded. "Yep, that's what we're calling it now. I've decided."

"Are you actually going to ask him, then? Gods I wish I could see that conversation."

Gwyn's cheeks flamed.

"Five gold pieces, he blushes!" Mor cried.

"Another two says he chokes on his own spit," Emerie snickered.

Nesta smirked. "I'm more interested in how long it takes for him to say yes. I have a feeling by the end of that conversation, he'll be the one convincing you."

Notes:

Tandem read: continue A Court of Light Ch 2

Chapter 5

Notes:

Tandem read: This chapter follows A Court of Light Ch 3

It had been a very long week and Azriel was in desperate need of a bath and some proper sleep but, after arriving at the House of Wind, something compelled him towards the training ring. He caught Gwyn's scent near the stairs and realized what had pulled him in that direction.

He hadn't been able to stop thinking about her while he'd been away. It was as though, once he'd allowed those first few inappropriate thoughts in, the flood gates had been opened. His musings were not always sexual. Sometimes he just wondered what she was doing. If the girls had actually convinced her to move in, which room she'd chosen, how she'd decorated it. If they had resumed their training without him there, how they were coping with one less instructor and if she'd managed to pull off the move he'd shown her a few weeks ago that she'd been struggling with, yet.

He entered the training ring and glanced around, frowning when he didn't see her. Her scent was still fresh here... He startled as he looked up and found Gwyn perched on top of the beam they'd erected for the ribbons that those who wished to join the Valkyries had to cut. She was crouching low, balanced on her toes, eyes closed like she was meditating.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Practicing my balance," she said calmly, not deigning to open her eyes.

He shook his head trying to calm his racing heart that feared she'd fall. "How did you get up there?"

She opened one eye and lifted an arched brow. "I made it up Ramiel with an arrow in my thigh, yet you question how I managed to scale a ten foot pole?"

He returned her smirk, placing his hands on his hips and widening his stance. "Twelve foot, but fair enough. How will you get down?"

Even from the ground he could see the glitter of challenge in her eyes as she gracefully straightened to her full height. His heart leapt into his throat and he lurched forward as she stepped off the beam and fell into a roll. She popped back up to her feet and sauntered over.

"Impressive," he commented dryly, quickly resuming a bored pose so she wouldn't notice his brief- insane- moment of panic. She flicked her braid over her shoulder and winked.

"So, you made it back in one piece then?" Her eyes scanned him head to toe, as though checking all of him was still there.

"I did. A bit tired, but no worse for wear." 

"Too tired to spar?"

He considered for a moment. He was too tired, and yet, he couldn't resist. "One round. Then I'm seeking a bath and my bed."

"Good, you need it," she sassed, turning towards the mat. "Weapons or no?"

He was definitely too tired to wield a sword or dagger without hurting either of them and she was entirely too full of energy for this late at night. "No weapons." He unbuckled the additional armor he'd worn for the journey, tossing it aside as he followed her into the ring.

They squared up, facing each other and, rather than give her time to size him up, he immediately struck out with his right fist. She dodged neatly, blocking his follow up and he narrowly avoided the jab at his ribs. He threw a quick combination, smiling as she expertly countered each move. They went on like this for another minute or so and he could feel his energy rapidly waning. 

"Stop playing around, Berdara," he goaded. She was still too easy to rile up, particularly when he insinuated that whatever she was doing was less than perfection. She tended to make mistakes when she got too cocky, determined to prove herself against her opponent. Her need to master every skill and prove everyone wrong were, in his opinion, her greatest weaknesses- though they did often result in spectacular shows of skill. 

"Show me- oof." Gwyn's leg swung out, hooking behind his knees and he suddenly found himself on his back, as she kneeled over him, hand to his throat and grinning. One of his shadows darted out, circling around Gwyn as though congratulating her.

Cauldron boil him, he thought as he looked up at her from his back. If he hadn't just discovered a new fantasy...

"Well, done." He was grateful for the excuse of the air being knocked out of him to cover how gruff his voice was.

"Thank you." She held out her hand and he allowed her to pull him to his feet. 

"That's enough for tonight." He held up his hands in surrender. 

"Very well, old man. Go get your beauty rest."

He huffed a laugh, leaving her to take a drink of water from the dispenser still set up.

"Actually..." he heard her voice behind him, sounding a bit hesitant. "There was something I was hoping you'd help me with."

"And what would that be?" he asked filling a small cup and turning to face her. He wondered if she'd found some knew Valkyrie tradition and needed him to erect another pole or something of the kind.

He watched curiously as she took a deep breath, seeming to gather herself. She's nervous, his shadows whispered, intrigued. And then-

"I want to have sex."

Drowning. He was drowning on dry land.

Azriel's shadows vibrated like they were laughing as he tried to cough up the water he'd just inhaled. In his mind, he replayed the last few seconds, sure he'd misheard her. 

"Oh, Gods!" Gwyn surged forward, reaching for him. "Are you alright?"

He pounded his chest, lungs burning and willed himself to stop choking. He glared at one of his shadows that curled in front of his face, seeming to grin back at him before darting back behind his shoulder.

"I'm fine," he croaked. He cleared his throat, forcing his pulse to slow. Very professional, Spymaster. "Sorry," he said once he'd mastered himself. "You took me by surprise."

His tongue wavered for a moment, at a loss. A rarity for him. "What is it exactly you're asking me?" he said carefully.

Her hands dropped away from where they'd been hovering near his shoulders and began fidgeting with the end of her braid instead. "Oh, well... I've just been thinking lately..."

His attention flicked to her left ear as metal glinted. Is that a new piercing? When did she get that?

"I mean, a lot's changed over the last year..."

It looked good on her. Made her seem a bit more... sharp. Edgy. Less innocent. Less innocent?  With Gwyn's irreverent attitude and penchant for mischief, he wasn't sure he'd ever thought of her as innocent before. 

"I think that maybe, I might-"

She was still rambling and he'd almost lost track of the question. "Out with it, Berdara," he said, a bit harsher than he'd intended.

She jumped slightly, dropping the ribbon she'd been curling between her fingers. "I want to have sex," she blurted. So he hadn't heard that wrong.

"Yes... you said that..." he studied her reddening face. "What does that have to do with me?" His words were a bit choked as his heart pounded hard in his chest and his pants got uncomfortably tight at the thought. 

"Er, well... I was talking with Nesta and Em and Mor the other night..."

Mother save him. What had they said to her?

"I know my first experience was..." pain flitted across her face and his chest tightened as he recalled the night he'd found her. She'd been terrified and shaking and... bloody. She shook herself slightly, continuing. "I know it's not supposed to be that way and- I think I'm ready to try again. To learn what it should be like- and I just thought that... if I could try with someone I knew, someone I trusted, then it might not be so scary..."

He stilled as those big teal eyes connected with his and the enormity of what she was asking sank in. "I just... I don't want to be afraid anymore," she finished quietly.

There was something stuck in his throat, making it hard to breathe. He swallowed hard, forcing it back. When he did speak, his voice was barely more than a whisper. "And, you trust me? To- help you with that?"

She nodded, just a small bob of her head.

He was speechless. For a moment, he couldn't say anything. All he could do was stare at her as some emotion he couldn't fathom swelled in his chest. The longer he stood there in silence though, he could see the panic rising in her eyes.

She stepped back. "You don't have to. I just- I thought-"

"I'd be honored," he said quietly. Honestly. "I'm honored that you feel safe enough to ask that. That you feel comfortable enough with me." She paused, seeming to hold her breath. He took a slow step forward, giving her time to back away again. She inhaled sharply, but didn't move and he carefully closed the distance between them until they were a hairsbreadth apart, but not touching.

His nose almost brushed hers as he stared into those depthless eyes. Their breath mingled and the whole world seemed to go still. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked. He had to be sure. He felt like he was about to burst out of his own skin, but he needed to hear her say it.

"Yes..."

His arm snaked around her waist hauling her against him and she gasped, hands flying up to his chest. Her body tensed but he didn't make another move. "We'll go slow," he promised and she relaxed.

"When do we start?" Her lips grazed his and he could barely contain himself.

"You're the boss, Berdara," he smirked. He almost regretted the words as he saw a hint of mischief glint in her eyes. Almost.

"How about now?" Between one heart beat and the next, she pressed up on her toes, melding their mouths together.

Any remaining thoughts quickly eddied out of his head as his senses came alive, entirely filled with all things Gwyn. Her scent, her taste, the feel of her long, lithe body against his much larger one. Her hands wound around his neck, fingers tangling in the ends of his hair.

Had he just been thinking the day before that he needed a haircut? He rather thought he'd keep it long for now. If that's how good it felt for her to run her hands through it, he could understand why Cass had grown his out.

His hips pressed against her belly, allowing her to feel his very heavy cock, but she didn't push him away. Instead she gasped and pulled him closer. He took advantage, deepening the kiss as his tongue darted into her mouth, earning him a moan. 

Gods, this woman. They were only kissing, still fully clothed and his body fairly trembled with need. His head was a mess of thoughts, none of them coherent and his blood felt like it was roaring in his ears, drowning everything else out.

Eventually, he forced himself to back off, slowly reeling in his hunger so he didn't scare her. Their exploratory kisses became soft pecks and then just a brushing of lips until they broke apart entirely, panting softly. His eyes blinked open, taking in the soft look on her face. The way her lashes fluttered over her high, flushed cheekbones, her lips swollen and parted. Her skin seemed to glow like it was lit from within and only then did he realize they were completely in the dark.

His shadows had cocooned them, keeping them hidden from any prying eyes that might also be awake and wandering about. He silently shooed them away as her eyes opened, not wanting them to frighten her.

"Lesson one, priestess."

"Not a priestess anymore," she breathed.

He smiled. "Right. Lesson one, Berdara."

She pulled back, her fingers still in his hair. "Kissing?"

"Aye." He allowed his thumb to brush over her lower lip, feeling her shudder and lean back into him. "A kiss, when done right, can be every bit as sensuous and satisfying as the best love making... And it also makes for good teasing..."

Smirking, he released his hold on her, turning her towards the doorway with a gentle push. "Off to bed with you, now. I expect to see you bright and early."

She gave him a distracted nod, her feet moving her back towards the House. Her body weaved to the right, then left, swaying slightly. He watched in amusement as she gathered herself, straightening her spine and shaking her head in an attempt to clear it. He heard her clear her throat quietly before tossing over her shoulder. "Sweet dreams, Shadowsinger."

He stood in the ring long after she'd disappeared, a stupid smile on his face, his exhaustion near forgotten.

---

Gwyn woke before dawn despite the few hours of sleep she'd gotten. She stretched out in bed, smiling as the sun showed the first glimmer of light through the billowing curtains of her room.

Last night had gone even better than expected, even though she'd nearly lost her nerve for a moment. On Mor's advice, she'd taken to wearing some of the new lingerie she'd bought under her normal clothes and the boost of confidence it had given her was amazing. Even before Azriel's return, she'd felt stronger and more powerful while training. And the moment she'd caught his scent last night as he entered the training room, she was glad for the new habit.

Her grin widened when she realized his return meant he'd be at training again that morning.

She sprung from bed, dancing into the bathroom for a quick washup before standing naked in front of her dresser, pondering her options. One of the lovely things about living in the House of Wind was that her clothes were always neatly laundered even if she'd just worn them the day before, so the only limits she had were what she physically owned.

Plucking out a pair of strappy black underwear and matching bra, that made her feel particularly badass, she finished getting dressed and made her way to the dining room to eat. Unsurprisingly she was the first one there.

"You're in a good mood," Emerie greeted as she took the seat across from her.

Gwyn, who had unknowingly been humming while she ate, pouted slightly. "I'm always in a good mood."

"Yeah, but you're in a particularly good mood this morning."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," she shrugged as Cassian and Nesta joined them.

"Good morning, ladies."

"Morning, Cass!" she chirped. He grinned at her.

"Oh..." Emerie snorted, peering at Gwyn over the rim of her coffee. Gwyn started to frown until she noticed Azriel had arrived and instantly blushed. She kicked Emerie under the table when she started cough-laughing.

"Oh, you're back!" Cassian looked immensely relieved. "How'd it go?" After Mor had been called away by Rhys as well the next day, Cassian had eventually returned to explain that Elain's mate, Lucien, who had been absent from Night for some time, had been captured while on an assignment in Spring and been held by his own father who he explained held some deep-rooted dislike for his youngest son that no one seemed to understand.

Azriel and Mor had been sent to retrieve him with the aid of Lucien's eldest brother Eris, the presumed heir of the Autumn Court.

"Better than expected," Azriel said, sitting at the opposite end of the table. His gaze flicked to her, lingering for a moment before returning to his brother. "We got him out fine, but he was in bad shape. We had to stop in Dawn to get him help. He's at Rhys' now, recovering."

Nesta's brows pinched together but she didn't comment. She hadn't said much about her sister's mate beyond that she wasn't much of a fan. Gwyn had never met the male before, but she'd heard the High Lady speak fondly of him once or twice.

"How's Elain?" Azriel asked, gaze dropping to his plate as he loaded it with eggs and toast.

"Better, now that her mate's returned, I'd imagine," Cassian said. "It was a little rough for a few days though, from what I understand. Rhys said she spent an entire day baking so much the twins finally forbid her from stepping foot in the kitchen for at least a week."

Nesta's lips tightened before she took a rather aggressive bite of her muffin. Emerie gave her a questioning look, which she ignored.

"Well, I'm glad everything worked out," Gwyn said. "Hopefully he'll recover quickly."

"He will," Azriel said confidently. "He has healing magic of his own and they gave him a Faebane antidote in Dawn. He still looked rather sick when we left him at Rhys’ but he should have his strength back soon enough."

Cassian nodded. "Now comes the interesting part."

"The interesting part?"

"Rhys has called for a tribunal with the other High Lords," he explained. "They're still awaiting answers from a few of them. Surprisingly, Tamlin was the first to agree. Helion I'm sure will agree as well, but he's supposed to be dropping by at some point today, I think, to discuss it."

Nesta's nose twitched, her expression turning amused all of a sudden.

"Will the others agree?" Emerie asked.

Cassian shrugged. "More than likely. I'm sure none of them is thrilled to be pulled into another potential conflict, but something has to be done about Beron. He's gotten out of control."

The rest of breakfast passed with much lighter topics of conversation and Gwyn caught Azriel watching her from across the table at least once before they finally made their way up to the training room. 

Notes:

Tandem read: Continue A Court of Light Ch 4

Chapter 6

Notes:

Tandem read: This chapter follows A Court of Light Ch 4

This one's a little 🌶🌶

She felt his eyes on her throughout most of the morning session and rather than being distracted as she might have expected, Gwyn instead felt like she was putting on a show. She stood taller and prouder as she guided her group through a series of warm ups and basic sword drills. 

Their numbers had grown over the last year. More priestesses had come up to join in the early morning trainings, mostly just for the exercise, but a few showed interest in the Valkyrie's training and had worked extra hard to improve their skills. They'd also had a small influx of girls from a few of the Illyrian war camps, some with clipped wings and some without, who had heard about the three females who had defeated the Blood Rite. Rather than being shunted off by the Illyrian warlords who only grudgingly followed Rhysand's edicts that they be allowed to train, they wished for more comprehensive training and had thus decided to join them as well.

So far, three more had graduated to Valkyries, but several more were getting close. Their ranks were steadily growing as word got out of the resurgence of the once elite fighting force and Rhysand, who was particularly invested in their growth had unofficially named Gwyn, Nesta and Emerie as commanders.

Each time she watched one the trainees master a new weapon or learn a new move, she felt a surge of pride for what she and her sisters had accomplished. She liked to think Catrin would've been proud as well. 

By the time the first session ended and it was time for the Valkyries to begin their own training, Azriel's gaze was permanently fixed on Gwyn. She glanced his way now and then, catching his eye, but otherwise, she found great amusement in putting on a show for him. That is, until Emerie landed a blow on the side of her head that made her ears ring when she'd glanced away to see if he was still watching.

"Good Gods, Gwyn," Emerie snickered. "Stop daydreaming about the Shadowsinger's cock and pay attention." 

She glared at her friend, rubbing her head, but couldn't stop her blush. "Was that necessary?"

"Which part? The smack to the head or the teasing?" Emerie smirked. "The teasing is always necessary. And the smack... if we'd actually been in a fight, you'd be dead."

Gwyn winced. "Fair enough." For the rest of training she forced her focus to remain on the task at hand, but she could still swear she felt Azriel watching her ass as spared with Mya, the newest Valkyrie.

Afterward, while they were all cooling down, Gwyn stood between Emerie and Nesta as they discussed the mistakes the other had made during their sparring sessions but she was only half paying attention. Across the training room, directly in her line of sight, Azriel stood next to Cassian, the two chatting quietly about something. She was too far away to hear them, but she watched the way his lips moved, remembering how'd they'd felt against her own the night before.

She could hardly wait to do it again.

They hadn't discussed how this arrangement would work. If they would meet at a specific time or place, which seemed like a massive oversight now. Would he mind if she pulled him into an empty room as soon as they were alone, or would he prefer to wait until nighttime and visit one of their rooms?

A sharp elbow jabbed her in the ribs and she ripped her lip out from between her teeth. Nesta and Emerie were giving her knowing looks. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Oh, don't play coy, Gwyn," Nesta rolled her eyes. "It doesn't suit you."

Emerie grinned. "Did you ask him? I'm guessing you did because the two of you have been eye-fucking all damn morning." 

"I did," Gwyn sighed, fighting a blush. She supposed there wasn't much point in trying to be discrete when everyone in the House seemed to already know what was going on, well except for possibly Cassian. Still like to avoid openly announcing her thoughts at all times, and was also a bit wary of their fellow Valkyrie overhearing as she knew a few of them harbored not so subtle crushes on the Shadowsinger.

"And?"

"And... we kissed."

Emerie's wings rustled in excitement. "How was it?"

"Amazing," Gwyn sighed again, this time in a dreamy sort of way that made both of her friends grin harder at her.

Behind them, they heard Cassian offering Vera a lift home. Of the three newest Valkyries, who were all Illyrian, only one was still able to fly, so Cassian or Azriel would help escort the girls back to Illyria after training. As they all prepared to take off, Azriel caught Gwyn's eye again from across the ring. His face was impassive, but his stare smoldered in a way that made her companions cough and shift about.

"I just remembered-" Emerie began, pausing for a moment. Then shook her head. "Yeah, nevermind, I got nothing. I just need to be anywhere but here."

"Same," Nesta said, taking her arm as they quickly turned to leave. "Have fun!"

Azriel slowly prowled across the ring towards her as the rest of the group filed out behind them and they were left alone. "Your form was a tad sloppy today, Berdara. We should work on that." His smooth voice flowed over her like water drawing out a faint shiver.

"My form was perfect," she replied, tossing her hair. "You just want a closer inspection of my form."

His lips tilted up as he stepped closer. "So what if I do? Will you oblige me?"

She gave him a simpering smile before striking out with her right foot. He stepped back, deflecting and then they were moving, fists flying and elbows blocking. At some point he managed to get behind her, his arm coming around her shoulders to lay across her neck. Against her ass, even through the leathers they both wore, she could feel his arousal and bucked her hips back into him.

He grunted, his grip on her loosening just enough for her to break out of his hold. A few seconds later they were on the ground, wrestling for control. In the end, she wound up with her wrist pinned over her head in his hands, his strong thighs straddling her sides. They both panted in the chill air as Azriel's face hovered inches above hers. 

"Do you yield?" 

Feeling bold, she leaned up and captured his lips in a kiss. It surprised him enough she was able to buck him off and rolled on top of him, pinning his wings with her knees. 

A laugh huffed out of him. "Cheater."

"Opportunist," she corrected. She kissed him again, taking her time. She loved the taste of him, something warm and slight spicy, like his oak scent. He kissed her right back, hands tracing the curve of her waist until they landed on her ass. "Should we- maybe- go somewhere- private?" she asked between kisses.

He made a sound low in his throat, unintelligible as far as she could tell, but a moment later, they were no longer out in the cold, open air. She broke her mouth away from his and glanced around. They were in his room. On his bed. "How did-"

"Shadows," he mumbled as he strained up to reach her mouth and settled for leaving little licks and nips at her jaw. "Would you mind letting my wings go, Berdara? I can't properly move with you pinning them."

"Oh!" she shifted her legs, releasing his wings and they flared out behind him as he sat up. His arms wrapped around her back, cradling her against him so she didn't fall off his lap where they were perched on the edge of the mattress. 

She felt a tug at the end of her ponytail, tilting her head backward as he continued to explore the skin over her throat and behind her ear. A moan slipped out of her when one his large hands gripped her hips, pushing her down on his lap so she could feel again, how hard he was. 

"What do you want, Gwyn," he murmured against her ear. "What do you want from me?"

"I-" she hesitated, unsure. The problem wasn't that she didn't know what she wanted to try, she wanted to try everything, rather that she didn't know where to begin.

Contrary to what she was sure many believed, she didn't actually fear sex. In fact, her darker fantasies would probably make even Nesta blush. It was more that she was afraid that actually attempting to engage in the act might unwillingly trigger memories she'd worked very hard to forget. She didn't want those memories anymore. She didn't want that to be what she associated with sex. She wanted what her friends had. What she read about in books. She wanted passion and pleasure, and maybe even a little bit of pain. But how did she tell him that?

Azriel pulled away, watching her carefully. "We don't have to do anything else. We can just keep doing this if that's all you're ready for."

"It's not that." She licked her lips, gathering her thoughts. "I just don't have much experience with this.... none in fact. I don't actually know what I'm doing. Reading about it and talking about it is very different from actually doing..."

His expression darkened dangerously for a moment and she knew what he was thinking. That she had no experience with sex meant that the night he'd found her, when she'd been assaulted, had been her first. She had expected to be more upset about that fact, but when she looked back on that night, the only thing she truly regretted was that she had not been able to spare her sister. Everything else had seemed almost trivial in comparison. And in any case, most fae did not regard virginity or sex the way some did. The way humans did. It wasn't something to be shamed, it was natural.

Maybe it was some kind of delayed response. That she hadn't actually dealt with it as she thought she had, and it would come back to haunt her still, maybe it wouldn't. In this moment, with his hands on her and his mouth so close, she wasn't concerned about it and didn't want him dwelling on it either. She just wished to replace those memories with better ones.

"Teach me," she said softly. His hand squeezed her hip. "Think of it as just another lesson. Break it down for me, step by step. Show me everything."

"Always the eager student," he murmured. 

She grinned. "You love it. I'm your favorite student." He didn't deny it. Still, he hesitated. She wasn't sure what was holding him back now when he'd already agreed to this. "If you don't think you're up to it, of course, I suppose I could always just find a nice lad in town..." She made to climb out of his lap.

A vicious snarl ripped out of him and his grip on her tightened painfully. He blinked rapidly as if surprised by his own reaction. Even his shadows seemed to ripple and swell larger around him. She imagined that others who saw such a display, particularly those under the threat of his dagger, found it rather intimidating. She had to fight the urge to get rub herself all over him.

"Sorry, I- I'm not sure what that was." He lightened his grip to the softest touch. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"I'm not scared, Azriel." Her hands slid from his shoulders to his neck, her fingers tangling in his soft hair. She loved the way his eyelids fluttered at her touch, long, dark lashes, shadowing his cheeks.

"Ok." They sat like that for a moment before he spoke again. "I need you to tell me what you're ok with."

"Anything."

His brows rose, disbelievingly. 

"I'm serious. I meant it when I said I knew nothing. I want you to show me all of it."

He studied her face through slightly narrowed eyes and then, slowly, his hands began to move over her body. She could barely feel them through the leather, but heat followed wherever he touched. Along the length of her spine, over her shoulder blades, down her sides.

"Don't be afraid to touch me too," he whispered. "If you want to."

She could hear the want in his voice and let her hands begin a careful exploration of their own. Her thumbs brushed the side of his exposed neck as they moved to his shoulders, feeling their broad length before moving over the scaled leather that covered his chest and lower. He held her gaze the entire time as they felt each other, his hazel eyes blazing into her teal ones. She wondered if hers were now as dark as his had gotten.

When his fingers brushed over the laces of her pants, she tensed and he paused. "Sorry, is that too-"

"No," she said quickly, taking ahold of his wrist so he didn't try to move away, She pulled his hand further against her, guiding his fingers over the laces and, after a second's pause, he began untying them, slowly, methodically. She was trembling by the time his fingers finally touched her skin. He paused again and again she held his wrist firmly, urging him to go on. 

Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it against her sternum as his hand move over the hem of her underwear. His brows rose when he flet the silky fabric and then groaned quietly when he realized they were wet. "Fuck."

She had been mostly worried about that first intimate touch, that she might freeze as it all rushed back to her, everything she thought she'd dealt with. Instead, she was pleasantly surprised to find she just wanted more.

"Touch me," she breathed, begged really. This time, he didn't hesitate, doing as she asked. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric and her head dropped back when she finally felt his touch where she'd been imagining it for weeks. Months. He took the opportunity to continue his earlier attentions to her neck as his fingers gently stroked her.

"Do you ever touch yourself, Gwyn?" he purred between kisses. His voice was husky and deep like smooth liquor. She nodded. "Like this?" He brushed her clit. Another nod. "What about here?" His fingers circled her entrance and she thrust against his hand. He chuckled softly. "Do you want me to touch you there?"

He was goading her, just like he did when they were in the ring. She felt fire stir in her blood as she rose to the challenge like always. "Yes."

He made a sound of approval and, like he was rewarding her for answering, one of his fingers dipped inside her. She moaned again, rocking her hips, trying to pull him in deeper, but he held back. 

"What do you think about when you touch yourself?"

"You," she breathed. He stilled and she knew she'd surprised him. His kisses seemed to increase in fervor and she was again rewarded for her honesty as he added a second finger, the heel of his hand pressing against her clit. 

She whimpered, her fingers bit into his shoulders, her hips beginning to rock faster. Gods, she was so close already. She didn't even care if it was too fast, she just needed it. Now. 

Her muscles fluttered in anticipation and he must've felt it. "Mmm. You want it don't you?"

"Yes." Her words were little more than a breathless pant.

She felt him smile against her neck and her stomach tightened. He was going to tease her, she could tell. 

"Ask me," he said, pulling the tip of her ear between his teeth. She moaned and cursed him. He just laughed softly and repeated himself. "Ask me, Gwyn. Tell me you want it."

Some natural instinct to resist rose up in her. She wouldn't beg. She refused. She hadn't begged for anything since- no, she wouldn't think of that now. She wouldn't beg for this either.

She clamped her lips tight, holding back the words he wanted to hear. And yet, the longer he held out, bringing her to the edge and then pulling back... she could feel tears of frustration pricking her eyes. "Damn you. Please," she sobbed.

His reaction was instantaneous. The arm wrapped around her waist tightened, holding her still as his fingers pumped in and out of her, faster and harder until- she screamed as a full body spasm gripped her. Everything else lost meaning for a moment as pleasure more intense than anything she felt rolled before coursed through her. When it was over, she slumped against him, chest heaving as he kissed her temple and withdrew his hand. She watched from the corner of her eye, blushing furiously as he brought those fingers to his lips and sucked them into his mouth, groaning. 

Squeezing her eyes shut, she buried her face in his neck. He chuckled and slipped his hand under her chin, gently lifting it to look her in the eye. "Lesson two. There's no shame in surrender. Submission doesn't make you weak, and saying please-" his eyes glittered with amusement. "Ask for what you want. Begging will not kill you."

"I hate you," she whispered. He grinned and kissed her pouting lips. 

"No you don't."

She reached between them, her hand skimming over his still bulging pants but he stopped her with a hand on her wrist. "Not today."

She frowned. "But you didn't-" He cut her off with another kiss.

"You're not ready for that." She bristled slightly at that but he continued, tugging the laces of her pants back together and gently moving her from his lap. "Unfortunately, I have work to catch up on and I’ve put it off long enough.”

She sighed, letting it go. There’d be time for more later. He stood, stretching his body and she glared at the very visible hardness below his waist as he adjusted himself. At this level she couldn’t miss just how big the outline of him was. Now that was intimidating. 

Perhaps Nesta was right about the wingspans…

He bent over, bracing his hands on either side of her hips on the mattress. “Don’t pout, Berdara.” So it was back to Berdara then. She’d rather liked hearing her name from his lips. Liked having his name on hers. Perhaps that would be reserved for when they were intimate. 

“You just had an orgasm, you should high in the clouds right now. You’re going to hurt my pride.”

She smirked. “Well perhaps your ego could do with a bit of deflating.” He was pouting now and she leaned forward, pecking his lips. Pushing gently against his chest, she swallowed her remaining disappointment, standing from the bed and sauntering out of the room. “See you later, Shadowsinger.”

Notes:

Tandem read: A Court of Light Ch 5

Chapter 7

Notes:

Tandem read: this chapter follows A Court of Light Ch 5

Azriel usually didn't mind family dinner nights, as chaotic as they often were, but tonight was different. Not only was it the first time Lucien had joined them in well over a year, he'd also spent the entirety of the last several hours daydreaming about the faces and noises Gwyn had made when his fingers had been buried inside her.

The way she'd rocked her hips, chasing her pleasure and the euphoric smell and taste of her climax... The sound of his name as she shouted it had been utterly delicious. There was something intimate about that that sent a small ripple of fear through him.

He'd never been this caught up on a female before, not even Mor or Elain had dominated his thoughts the way Gwyn had since Solstice. She was quickly becoming addicting to him, and that scared him even more as he considered that one day, she could very well decide she was ready to move on. To do all the things he still imagined doing with her with some other male as she'd threatened him earlier.

Jealousy and possessiveness battled for control just as they had before when she'd suggested such a thing. He had to fight the purely male instinct to rage and snarl, preventing any other male from getting anywhere near her, though there was no one here who would even be a threat to her. She wasn't even here.

It had taken every ounce of self control he'd had to pull away from her earlier. To gently set her aside and tell her he'd see her later when all he wanted to do was toss her down on the bed and ravish her. The moment she'd left, he'd locked the door behind her, practically tearing his pants open in his haste to pull out his cock and chase the release he'd been craving from the first moment she'd touched him in the training ring. 

He'd been disgusted with himself when it was over. When he'd sat sprawled on the ground where he'd slid down, his back pressed to the door, panting and sweating like an animal. She deserved better than that. He'd have to get better control of himself before he ever allowed things to get any further than they had. He would not scare her with his fervor the way she'd been frightened the first time she'd-

Another growl built in his chest when he remembered her confession that her only experience with sex had come from that night. She was truly a marvel, that she could have endured what she had and still faced down the prospect of intimacy with seemingly little fear. He refused to give in to his baser instincts where she was concerned though. He would not lose himself when he was with her. He would always be in control, always focused on her needs and her pleasure...

He could feel her shaking in his arms again as she cried out her release, fingers digging into his shoulders and head thrown back-

He was in deep, deep trouble.

Someone jabbed him in the thigh and his head whipped towards Feyre who sat beside him. She didn't glance his way, her gaze directed towards Lucien who sat at the opposite end of the table wearing a charming smile as he told some story that had half the table enraptured. 

He noticed then that Elain was smiling. A genuine smile, not the polite, forced one she often wore around others. He wasn't sure what had happened between them in the hours since he'd left him here the night before, but as Lucien's eyes shifted to hers, warming at her smile, Azriel had a feeling he'd be sticking around Velaris for a while.

The thought might have once made him jealous or angry. Now he was just glad to see Elain smiling again.

"I certainly hope you weren't daydreaming about my sister with the smell wafting off you just now. Cassian just might kill you."

Feyre's voice sounded in his head and he realized with a jolt that while he'd been thinking about Gwyn, he'd been staring directly at Nesta who sat across from him. The sister in question was watching with a wicked smirk that made his skin crawl. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what she was thinking.

"Definitely not."

There was a pause. "Interesting..."

He cringed internally when he realized he'd let his shield slip for a second and his thoughts about Gwyn had likely slipped through. He sealed the wall in his mind up tightly.

"Not a word," he said threateningly, a growl creeping into his voice.

Feyre balked visibly, glancing over at him. "Very interesting..."

He ignored the insinuation in her tone and finished what remained of his dinner. He forced himself not to think about Gwyn anymore for the remainder of the evening, but by the time they'd relocated to the parlor for after dinner drinks, he was fairly vibrating with restless energy. All he could focus on now, was tracking her down when he got back to the House, maybe learning where her new room was, and kissing the hell out of her before he went to bed.

The moment Cassian and Nesta announced they were heading home, Azriel took the opportunity to leave as well. Feyre gave him a sly smile and he glowered in response. He hoped she didn't say anything. To Rhys especially. He didn't feel like being lectured or told to stay away from yet another female he showed an interest in, though he couldn't imagine what Rhys might have to object about with Gwyn. Beyond the fact that he'd seemed to have almost adopted her as a surrogate sister.

He wasn't sure what Gwyn had told her friends, if anything, and didn't wish to violate her privacy by letting it become known they were involved before she was ready. He did his best to convey all of this to Feyre mentally and she nodded her understanding, still smiling.

Shaking it off, he followed Cassian and Nesta back home, telling them goodnight before allowing his senses to guide him to wherever Gwyn was. He was surprised when he found himself outside the door to the room beside his own. He'd noticed her scent in the hallway the night before and that morning, but had waved it off, thinking it must have just been lingering since she'd stayed the night in his room after Solstice.

He rapped softly on the door and she answered a moment later in a silky blue night gown that had his gaze drifting down, down.... He'd never seen her not covered neck to toe before, even on formal occasions. Her clothes were always conservative. Now, her chest, arms, shoulders and legs were on display, showcasing the freckles that seemed to cover her entire body. He'd very much like to explore them...

"Evening Shadowsinger," she purred. 

His mouth had dropped open and he snapped it shut, bringing his eyes back up to hers. "Evening." His voice cracked like an adolescent and he cleared his throat, mortified. 

Her lips curved, suppressing a smile. "How was dinner?"

"Delicious," he said, his gaze skating over her again. That time she did smile. "So, this is the room you chose?" He cast his gaze about, noting the artwork on the walls and the potted plants by the windows. It was such a contrast from his room which had virtually nothing personal in it beyond his clothes and weapons. 

Gwyn smirked. "The others picked it actually. Nesta claimed it had the best views of the city."

He remembered the way Nesta had smiled at him at dinner and wondered briefly if the eldest Archeron hadn't decided to play matchmaker. "She's not wrong," he said, glancing at the open air windows of her room that overlooked Velaris and the mountains beyond. It was the same reason he'd chosen the room next to it. 

After spending so many of his formative years locked in a room with no light or air, Azriel hated not being able to see the sky. He'd even moved his bed so it faced directly out the window and almost never closed the curtains so he could see outside at any time. On the occasions that he woke from a nightmare of being trapped underground, it was a comfort to look straight out the window at the night sky and know he was free. That he could jump right out the window and fly away if he wished. He wondered if she felt the same after living in the Library the last few years.

"Did you need something?" Gwyn asked, her voice seeming much closer than before. Without being fully aware of it, he'd moved closer, leaning against the frame of her door until their faces were little more than a foot apart.

"Just saying goodnight," he said, pulling back slightly. 

Her head tilted to the side as his shadows crept over his shoulders. "Is that all?" she asked, smiling.

"It is... were you expecting something more, Berdara?"

She lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug, not responding. It was the perfect opportunity to say goodnight and return to his own room, but found himself lingering instead. "I was just going to bed," he said unnecessarily. 

"Me too," she replied, leaning against the door frame as well. Her gaze dropped down to his lips. "Do you want to come in?"

"Gods, yes." His mouth slammed into hers as they backed into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. Her arms wound around his neck and he lifted her up until her long legs were wrapped around his waist. 

He crawled onto the bed with her clinging to him, carefully laying her down beneath him. She moaned against his mouth as he settled between her legs, only the thin fabric of the nightgown separating her beautiful skin from him. He trailed kisses along her jaw, enjoying the feel of her fingers in his hair- he definitely wasn't cutting it anytime soon, her nails felt too good on his scalp and he wanted to keep encouraging her to do that. 

"What do you want me to do?" he asked. He could imagine a hundred different things, but wasn't sure what she was feeling up for.

"Anything," she breathed. She'd said as much earlier, that she wanted him to take the reigns  of these little lessons, but he was still hesitant. 

"Are you sure?" he asked, pulling back to look at her. "I don't want to do anything you're not comfortable with."

"I'm fine with it, I promise." When he still looked skeptical, she continued. "I'll make you a deal. If you start to do something I'm not ok with I'll... use a code word."

His lips twitched. "You mean a safe word?"

She shrugged. "Sure, if you like." He wasn't sure what look he gave her but it made her laugh. "You remember Em, Nes and I have a book club?"

He nodded. "Cass had mentioned it. He said you read smutty books but... BDSM?"

She laughed, a musical sound that made that thing in his chest swell and his shadows danced at the sound. "Yes. Don't look so surprised. Just because I've had- unpleasant experiences so far, doesn't mean I have an aversion to sex or kink. Quite the opposite in fact. I've always been rather fascinated by it all."

That did surprise him. "Really?"

She nodded. "I know it probably sounds counterintuitive, but the idea of complete control in the bedroom is very appealing... even if I am the one giving it up. At least it would be my choice."

That thought struck him. Was that really how she felt? Would she really be ok giving him complete control of her body as long as it was her choice? That was the whole point of the thing, he supposed. BDSM and kink play revolved entirely around consent. Something that had been taken from her the first time. He could easily see how that might appeal to someone like Gwyn, who never did anything she didn't want to, even when they were training. It had caused a number of arguments between them in the ring.

His mind flooded with a million different ideas of things they could try...

"How much do you know about it?" he asked curiously, trying to feel out where her exact interests lay. 

Her lips jutted out as she thought. A faint blush stained her cheeks. "Well, I know it sometimes involves ropes... or blindfolds."

He laughed, the sound rumbling out of his chest. She beamed up at him, the sight warming him to the core. "It can involve those things, yes. There are a lot of differnt ways to bind or restrain someone though. Anything else?" She muttered something along the lines of 'you would know that'.

"Um, sometimes there's.... spanking?" Her face was bright red now, but she didn't falter. He swallowed another laugh.

"Discipline, yes."

"Is that what that stands for?"

"The acronym describes a lot of different kinds of play that can be interrelated," he explained. "Discipline is one of them."

"What else?"

He shifted, settling more comfortably on the bed though his body was still laid out between her thighs. She didn't seem to mind. "Well... there's bondage, dominance, submission, sadism and masochism. Several of those go hand in hand. An even exchange- a power exchange, if you will."

"Sadism and masochism?" Her brows were practically in her hair line. He grinned wickedly.

"Spanking can also come into play there. Some people enjoy a bit of pain with their pleasure. Some more than others. It can be quite fun. When done safely."

"Really?" rather than scared, she sounded fascinated.

"You're telling me you haven't read something like that before?" he teased.

She shrugged. "The ones I've read were relatively tame, I think. But they certainly hinted at some... darker pursuits."

"Darker pursuits indeed," he smirked, leaning his head against a fist. "Why don't you tell me what sparked your interest in particular?"

He listened as she talked about all the different things she'd read about. Telling him which parts appealed to her and which didn't, occasionally asking him to explain something she'd never heard of and had been too afraid to research. 

Eventually the conversation turned to more mundane topics, and he remained exactly where he was, laid out on top of her, listening raptly as she spoke. His fingers idly played with the ends of her hair while hers stroked through his in a way that soothed every tense muscle in his body until he was completely relaxed. It had to be nearly two in the morning before he realized how long they'd been like that. 

They weren't even touching, or kissing as he'd originally intended, and here she was, in a skimpy nightgown with her legs around his waist.... when was the last time, if ever, that he'd spent the night with a woman in such a way? He wasn't sure.

Gwyn yawned and he decided it was time he left her. "I should go. We both have to be up in a few hours."

Her thumb brushed behind his ear, hitting a particularly sensitive spot and his eyes drooped closed. "You can stay here. There's plenty room. Rather than going back to your own room."

"I'm right next door," he grinned crookedly. She shrugged. 

"Just saying. You can if you want."

He watched her eyes close, her body ready to succumb to sleep and leaned forward to kiss the tip of her nose. Her eyes popped open as he carefully untangled himself from her. "Not tonight, Berdara." He pulled a blanket over her as she curled up on her side, watching him through barely parted lids. "I'll see you in a few hours."

"Night," she mumbled, quickly slipping into sleep.

He smiled as she snored softly. "Good night, Gwyn."

Notes:

Tandem read: A Court of Light Ch 6

Chapter 8

Notes:

Tandem read: this chapter follows A Court of Light Ch 6

Someone was pounding on Gwyn's door early in the morning. Too early. She grumbled and rolled over, pulling the blanket over her head. Sleep tried desperately to draw her back under as the pounding on the door continued.

"Rise and shine, Berdara!" Cassian called through the thick wood. "I know you can hear me! You missed breakfast, training starts in five minutes. Get your ass in gear!"

Gwyn groaned and flipped the top of the blanket off her head, glaring hard at the door like she could skewer him through it with her eyes alone. He laughed as he walked away as though he knew what she was doing and called again for her to hurry up.

Grumbling under her breath, she pulled herself out of bed and stumbled to the closet, her head feeling oddly fuzzy. She was normally more awake than this, and long before now. She'd never been late to training before. She couldn't blame it on a late night, she'd had plenty of late nights before, between nightmares, insomnia and midnight training sessions. Not to mention, Azriel had also had been up just as late as her and he'd clearly had no problem waking up.

She pulled on her leathers and boots and dragged her tired body up to the freezing training room where snow was falling lightly and the wind howled. She had planned to work on shooting with her trainees, but there was no way any of them could shoot an arrow with any accuracy in this weather. Daggers it is.

"Woah, Gwyn," Emerie, who had been warming up with Nesta turned to look her over. Her eyes narrowed in concern. "Are you alright? You look terrible."

She waved a hand dismissively as she moved to join them. "I'm fine." She did not in fact feel fine; she didn't even sound fine. She rather felt like she'd been hit by a runaway boulder actually, and her voice sounded like she was speaking through her nose. Even her own words betrayed her when she began sneezing, swaying on her feet.

"Uh," Nesta took a step back, looking vaguely disgusted. "I don't think you are."

"I am," she insisted, wiping her nose with the back of her sleeve. Both of her friends cringed. "I'm not sick. I never get sick."

"Well, you're sick now. First time for everything."

"I'm not sick," her words dissolved into a fit of coughing that drew the attention of everyone in the room.

Azriel appeared at her side, arms crossed over his chest and a fierce frown on his face. "What's wrong, Berdara."

"She's sick," Nesta said. "Even though she insists-"

"I'm not sick," she said again. This time though, when she tried to widen her stance to appear more intimidating, the room spun and she nearly fell on her ass.

"Woah," Cassian said as Azriel caught her, scooping her up in his arms. "Yeah, you're definitely not ok, kid. Go get some rest, we'll be fine without you."

"I'm not a kid," she protested weakly as Azriel carried her back downstairs. Her head fell against his chest, drawn to the warmth that radiated off of him. She was so damn cold. 

"Whatever you say Gwyn. You're still not training today," Cassian called after her as they made it back inside.

It wasn't until Azriel tucked her back in bed that she realized she was shaking. He laid the back of his fingers over her forehead and hissed. "You're burning up." He tucked more blankets around her.

"I'm not sick." She tried to claw her way out of the nest of covers, but even that exhausted her.

"You're too stubborn for your own good," he growled quietly, requesting hot soup and lots of water from the house. Both appeared on the bedside table and he pointed to the tray. "Eat. Drink, and don't you dare leave this room. Understood?"

She scowled, her voice petulant. "You can't tell me what to do."

Azriel leaned down until he was in her face. "Don't test me, Gwyn. Eat," he said again, handing her the bowl. His low voice rumbled through her, commanding. "Don't make me punish you," he said when she made no move to obey his order, and his shadows swelled around his shoulders as though glaring sternly at her. "I promise you won't like this kind of punishment... or maybe you will. Either way I will do it if you don't listen and take care of yourself." There was a hint of promise in his tone that made her shiver and before she could think better of it, her hand moved on it's own, scooping up a spoonful of soup and brining it to her mouth.

"Good girl," he rumbled, nodding his approval. He smoothed her hair back as he leaned over and kissed the top of her head before turning to leave. "Now eat it all, drink all your water, and stay. in. this. room." An unrelenting command rode his words. "I'll check on you later," he said, softer.

"Fine," she grumbled, taking another mouthful of soup. A grin flitted over his face before he left, shutting the door behind him. 

As much as a part of her wanted to rebel against his orders, the first time she'd gotten out of bed to use the bathroom, she'd been so weak she almost had to crawl there. After that, she was more than happy to stay in bed.

She dozed on and off throughout the day, drinking or eating whatever the House sent her as it appeared, and lay huddled under her blankets in a shivering, miserable ball. She'd meant it before when she said she never got sick. Her grandmother once said it was a gift of their river nymph genes. Nymphs didn't get sick, she had insisted. The waters protected them. Yet here she was...

At some point in the evening, she awoke to a knock on her door. She sat up, covered in sweat and stared blearily at the visitors. Azriel and an older female with dark skin and wispy hair entered her room. She must've looked awful as Azriel hurried over to her side, checking her over. 

"Are you alright? How do you feel? Did you drink water like I told you?"

"Let the child breath," the old woman said, moving closer to examine her. Azriel reluctantly pulled away but hovered over the old woman's shoulder as she worked. "She's fine," she pronounced after a moment. "Her fever's nearly broken and she's probably feeling a little delirious, but she'll be perfectly fine with more rest and fluids."

Gwyn watched Azriel sigh in relief, his wings drooping slightly like he'd been holding them tense all day. "Aw, were you worried about me?" she gave him a loopy grin and he shook his head with a small smile.

"How's the patient?" Nesta, Emerie and Cassian crowded into her room as well. The old woman, who she heard Cassian refer to as Madja, grumbled about 'not being able to work in such conditions', and handed Gwyn a tonic to drink before excusing herself.

She chugged the small bottle, gagging at the awful taste and gratefully accepted the glass of water Azriel passed her. "Madja says she's fine," he answered for her. "She just needs more rest."

"She's not contagious is she?"

He shrugged. "Madja didn't say so. Still, might be best if you didn't spend too much time around her for now." Gwyn pouted. 

"Neither should you then," Nesta said pointedly. 

"I'm Illyrian."

"And?"

"He means, he thinks he's invincible," Emerie explained, rolling her eyes.

"Well, that's patently untrue," Nesta snorted.

"Best leave Az to his own devices," Cassian said, steering them both out of the room. "Not much point in reasoning with him like this, he won't listen."

Azriel scowled at the door as they disappeared, looking put out. "I'm not unreasonable," he complained to her.

Gwyn laughed. "You're the epitome of unreasonable."

"That's not true. I wouldn't be an effective Spymaster if I were," he said defensively. 

She smiled. "You're adorable."

"And you're still clearly very sick," he retorted. "I am not adorable."

"You are if I say you are."

"Not really how that works, Berdara," he said gently, coaxing her to lay back down. "Get some rest."

"Of course that's how it works," she continued to argue even as she let him tuck her in. "It's my opinion. If I say so, then you are."

He smiled but refrained from commenting further. "Sleep." She watched him settle into a nearby chair to watch over her and sighed.

"If you're going stay and watch me sleep like a creep, you might as well be comfortable." She lifted the blanket and waved for him to join her. He hesitated for a moment, but relented when she patted the mattress again.

Kicking off his boots he carefully climbed under the covers, and she shifted to make room for him.

"Goodness, you're warm. Where were you earlier when I was shivering so hard I thought I was going to crack a tooth?" she complained.

"Doing your job," he said as she settled against him, laying her head on the arm he stretched out under her. He wrapped it around her shoulders holding her to him. His other arm stroked her back and she continued to babble nonsensically until she fell asleep again.

---

Torture. This was pure torture. At some point, he'd fallen asleep next to Gwyn, but a moment ago, she'd woken up, complaining about how hot she was and proceeded to strip naked before curling back up against him, clinging to him like a child holding a stuffed animal.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was almost too afraid to touch her but it was difficult to avoid in their current situation. He was starting to feel too warm now as well, as her body fought off the lingering fever, heat radiating from her skin. He couldn't move though. He didn't dare wake her up lest she realize she was naked and kicked him out.

Or maybe you're over thinking it? He was certainly overheating it if he didn't get some of his warmer clothes off soon.

Carefully as he could, he pried her limbs off of him and climbed out of bed. For a moment, he debated leaving her there and going back to his own room, but was unaccountably worried about her waking up alone. She'd still been in the midst of her fever when she'd told him to lay with her, even if she was on the downslope. The chances of her remembering she'd asked him at all were slim. Still... he felt that pull to her again and he was helpless to resist.

He pulled off his leathers, leaving him in his underwear and a thin undershirt and slid back under the covers, careful not to look at her. As soon as he was next to her again, she wound herself back around him like a snake. Her breasts pressed against his chest and her legs tangled with his. He bit his lip hard when he realized she'd also taken off her underwear and was now straddling his bare thigh. 

He was going to hell. There was no stopping the dirty thoughts running through his mind no matter how inappropriate he knew they were. This was the absolute worst time to be having thoughts like this. Particularly when there was nothing he could do about them.

Eventually he got his mind under control and felt his body relaxing, something inside him settling at the knowledge that she was close, and safe and his. No, not his. Just here with him. That's what he meant. Gwyn didn't belong to him. She didn't belong to anyone but herself, a fact she was always happy to remind him of when she didn't particularly care for his orders or directions.

Her scent surrounded him, seeming more intense with the heat shared between them and the restless beast that had been pacing in his chest since he'd left her that morning calmed, laying down its head to rest. Azriel did the same.

Notes:

The next chapter gets a little steamy... 😏

Chapter 9

He awoke again several hours later when the sun was just beginning to peek through the curtains, to the sensation of something damp rubbing against his leg. His eyes flew open as Gwyn moaned, writhing against him in the throws of some dream, grinding against his thigh. He could've wept at how hard his cock was and how difficult it was not to touch her as she played out whatever the hell she was dreaming about. She whispered his name as the scent of her arousal nearly overwhelmed him and- yep. Definitely going to hell.

A few minutes later she stilled, finally waking. He held himself perfectly still as she came to and took stock of her situation. Her entire body froze, still clinging to him. "By the cauldron," she muttered. "Did we...."

"Did I ravish you while you were sick with a fever and delirious? No. I'm not a barbarian." He was rather insulted she asked, frankly.

She glanced up at him with wide eyes and red cheeks. "I didn't mean-"

"I know what you meant," he snapped, then sighed. "Sorry. I'm just- a little tense right now. Are you feeling better?"

He and Cassian had canceled training that morning after a few priestesses had also started to look a bit under the weather, so there was nowhere to be for a while and he was currently torn between his desire to be close to her and the need to get far away from her before he lost his mind and did something he'd regret.

She nodded slowly. "I'm fine... did I do something wrong?"

"No... it's just very difficult to be near you like- this and not touch you."

She glanced down, remembering she was naked. Slowly, she looked back up at him. Her cheeks were still flushed, but her eyes were clear and alert. "So touch me now."

He stilled. Gods, did he want to take her up on that offer, but he was worried after her sickness the day before that she might be too weak. That she needed more rest. Seeming to sense this, her expression turned firm and her words were a command. "Touch me, Azriel."

Heat surged through him as his eyes snapped back up to hers. "I thought I was in charge?" he teased.

"Well when you're being chicken, I'll take the lead."

He raised a brow. "Chicken? Did you just call me a coward?"

She raised a brow in turn. "Maybe."

"You take that back," he growled.

Her lips twitched. "Make me."

An idea popped into his head and he slid out of bed, ignoring her protests as he marched into the bathing room. He returned a moment later, scooping her up and carrying her from the bed to the tub where he dropped her unceremoniously into the water.

She sqwaked and splashed as she shot upright, slopping water onto the floor. He hid a grin as he poured peppermint oil into the water to help clear her senses and then climbed in after her. Leaning back against the side, he pulled her between his legs and forced her to relax as the water finished filling the tub. He tried very hard not to think about the open shower space on the other side of the room and the kind of fun they might have in there- someday.

"See, a nice bath," he cooed, pouring soap onto a sponge. He took one of her arms in his hand and gently began washing her. "Just what you need."

She scowled but allowed his ministrations. "You didn't have to dump me in the water."

"You're part nymph, you're fine."

"I hate you."

"No you don't." He continued washing her, careful to stay away from the more intimate places on her body. He didn't trust her not to pull a dagger out of somewhere and castrate him while she was scowling like that.

He manuevered himself to the side in the large tub, mindful of his wings and gently cradled her head as he dipped her hair under the water and began washing it. Her eyes closed as he massgaed her scalp and her scowl melted away.

When he was finished, he laid her back against his chest again, still wearing his shirt and underwear. "See, isn't that better?"

"I thought I told you to touch me," she pouted.

"I did," he smirked, earning him another scowl, this one more playful.

"Smartass." she spun in his arms, pulling up to her knees and straddling his hips. For one glorious moment, her perfect breasts had hung in front of his face and he ached to suck the dusky nipples into his mouth. Slowly, she sat down, purposefully resting her weight over his erection, smirking when he swallowed a moan. "It's my turn to take care of you."

"You're the one who's sick," he protested weakly as she reached beneath the water to peel off his soaked shirt. It hit the stone floor with a wet slap. 

"I'm not sick anymore. Besides, you missed a few spots." She took the sponge he'd used and added more soap. Placing it in his hand, she guided it up to her chest and began moving his hand with hers as she washed her breasts and stomach, reaching lower.

"Gwyn," he pleaded. She just smiled and settled his hand on her bare hips, taking the sponge from him.

He watched, rivited as she soaped it up again and carefully, meticulously, began washing him. She started at his shoulders, moving down each bicep before circling back to wash his chest. The sponge dipped below the water, running over his abs and around his back. She rung it out over his skin, washing away the suds and did the same to herself. His eyes were glued to a stream of water that passed between her breasts and dipped into the bath.

She soaped up the sponge again and glanced over his shoulder. For a moment, he thought she was looking at his shadows who had retreated slightly, not caring much for the water. Then she nodded at his wings. "May I? I know they're sensitive."

He smiled crookedly as he ran his hands up her sides. "And how do you know that?"

She gave him a flat look. "Because Nesta has a tendency to overshare."

He barked out a laugh, surprised. "She really is a perfect match for Cassian then." Gwyn smiled and nodded towards his wings again in question. He nodded, sitting up so thier chests were pressed together and she'd have better reach.

Her breath hitched at the contact and she began slowly cleaning the left wing as far as she could reach, then the right. He fought back a shudder each time she touched a particularly sensitive area, but could do little for his cock that was now hard as a rock and aching beneath her. As she worked, his hands slid up her back, holding her close and he dipped his head, kissing every bit of her he could reach from her neck to the tops of her breasts.

As soon as she finished rinsing his wings, she dropped the sponge, leaning up on her knees to press her chest into his face. Her hand landed on the back of his head, but he needed no guidance as he eagerly cupped her breasts in his hands and sucked the tips into his mouth, one at a time. She moaned, her grip on his hair tightening. He had just begun slipping his hand beneath the water to touch her when they heard voices coming from outside the room and they both froze.

"He's not in his room," Cassian said to someone.

"Where the hell would he have gone?" Nesta asked. The door to her room opened  as Cassian protested that Nesta should let Gwyn sleep but he could hear her barrel on through, as always.

His wings wrapped around them both, shielding Gwyn's body from sight and his shadows hovered over the water in a protective wall to hide the rest of them until only thier faces were showing, seconds before Nesta and Cassian appeared in the doorway he'd forgotten to close when he brought her in here.

Cassian stopped dead and swung back around to face the other way. "Shit! Sorry." His wing almost clipped Nesta in the back of the head as she remained in the doorway wearing a feline grin. "Nes, come on, leave them alone. We found him, leave him in peace."

She stayed there for another second until Gwyn tossed the sponge at her head. She ducked and it hit Cassian square in the shoulder. He yelped, grabbing Nesta's hand and forcibly dragging her out of the room. "Ok, ok, we're going! No more water bombs!"

Outside, he could hear Emerie and what sounded like More cackling.

The door slammed shut and Azriel's forehead dropped against Gwyn's shoulder, groaning softly. He started to apologize before realizing her shoulders were shaking. A strangled laugh spilled out her and she ruffled her fingers in the hair at the back of his head. 

"Aw, poor baby."

He growled, nipping her shoulder. "Don't tease me, Berdara."

"Or what?"

He lightly pinched the soft skin below her ass and she jumped, yelping as water sloshed over the side of the tub. He chuckled as she swatted his shoulder. "That's not nice," she said, smiling.

"Neither is teasing me while I have blue balls."

Her full lips curved in a smirk. "Why don't we do something about that then?"

Once again, he stopped her hand's progress as she reached for the waistband of his underwear and set her off his lap, climbing out of the tub. "Not now," he said, giving her peck on the lips to soften the blow. "We should probably see why they came looking for us anyway."

She sat in the water another moment, looking confused and a little hurt. Wanting to erase that look, he knelt down after wrapping a towel around his waist and kissed her more thoroughly. "We'll play later, Berdara." 

"Promise?"

He smiled. "I promise." He allowed himself one more kiss before forcing himself to gather his clothes from the other room, leaving behind his still wet undershirt and slipped into his own room to dress.

He found the others in the living room, scattered around the plush furniture. A plate of food and cup of coffee landed on the side table next to him as he sat down and he silently thanked the House for remembering he'd missed breakfast. Gwyn joined them a moment later dressed in a warm sweater and pants. Her long hair was braided back from her face and she looked considerably better than she had the previous morning. A plate of food also appeared for her when she sat on the couch opposite him.

Neither of them looked at each other, nor at anyone else, though he could feel them all staring. "Out with it," he snapped.

"So, how long as this been a thing?" Cassian asked, leaning back in his seat, his arm draped over Nesta's shoulder. 

"Two days," Nesta said leering at them.

"How the hell do you know that?"

"Because I pay attention."

"I-"

"Was there a reason you came barging into our room this morning?" Azriel interupted before they could get going. Arguing was foreplay for those two. If left alone, he was quite sure they would happily go at it for hours.

"'Our room'?" Mor smirked.

"Roomsss. Our rooms."

She chuckled but nodded. "Yes. We finally got word from the rest of the High Lords. They've agreed to the tribunal."

The room went quiet. This was huge. There hadn't been a tribunal for one of Prythian's seven leaders since before any of them were born.

"So what's the plan?" Cassian asked.

"Amren and I are accompanying Rhys and Feyre as their attendants. Everyone agreed it was better if Lucien remained here so as not to rile Beron up further and risk him getting hurt again. The rest of you, are being left in charge of the city and the Night Court for the time being. It shouldn't take more than a few days to take care of this, including the trip there and back."

"Where is it being held?" Azriel asked.

"Dawn, since Thesan's court is still considered neutral territory for now. Originally Rhys had proposed Spring, but Tarquin and Kallias were afraid that would seem too biased as Tamlin was technically one of the injuried parties seeing as that's where Beron's men took Lucien from in the first place. Not to mention the village they ransacked, which was the entire reason he was there to begin with."

"What about Autumn? How will they make sure Beron cooperates?"

"Eris was notified as soon as the others agreed to prepare his own men in case they were needed, but for now, Beron is apparently under the impression he's been called to a meeting to discus Rhys, not himself."

"Smart."

"Anyway," Mor said, getting to her feet. "I need to finish preparing since we leave in the morning. I just wanted to make sure you all were updated."

"Thanks for letting us know, Mor," Cassian said, giving her a hug. "Be careful."

"I will," she assured, moving to hug Azriel as well. "I'm happy for you," she said quietly in his ear. "Treat her well."

He decided not to correct her for now. He'd explain the situation with Gwyn later, when she wasn't about to head into a potentially dangerous meeting with the most powerful fae in Prythian. Emerie walked her to the stairs, presumably so they could have a private goodbye and Azriel wondered when they'd make their relationship official. 

Cassian opened his mouth, likely to ask more questions about him and Gwyn but Azriel quickly excused himself to work on reports he was behind on and Gwyn made some excuse about wanting to train since she'd missed the day before. Nesta hopped up, agreeing to go with her though Gwyn hadn't asked, and Cassian was left all alone.

"Nevermind me," he heard his brother say as he walked away. "I'll just sit here, wondering what the hell is going on in my own house," he said drily. "Again."

Notes:

Tandem Read: A Court of Light Ch 7

Chapter 10

Notes:

Tandem Read: This chapter and A Court of Light Ch 7 happen more or less at the same time. There's no particular reading order

Nesta and Emerie watched off to the side as Gwyn hacked away at the practice dummy with her sword. Another hard swipe and she cut the head clean off. The two women exchanged a glance.

"Look, I'm glad you're apparently feeling much healthier today," Emerie began. "But what the hell?"

Gwyn dropped the point of her sword, leaning against it as she caught her breath. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean I figured once you were getting some, that you'd... cool down a bit."

A growl of frustration escaped her and she went back to chipping away at the wooden dumy piece by piece. Nesta bravely stepped between her and the poor dummy, catching her wrists as they began to swing forward again.

"Ok, stop. Talk to us. You looked pretty happy this morning, what could've gone wrong in the few minutes after we left you?"

She sighed, setting down her sword again. "That's the thing. There isn't really anything wrong it's just this... feeling."

"What kind of feeling?"

"Like Azriel is trying to be too careful with me. No matter how many times I tell him, I'm not scared and I'm up for anything. Don't get me wrong, so far he's been very generous. He definitely is very interested in making sure I enjoy myself but...."

"But?"

She squeezed her eyes shut. "He won't let me touch him."

They both blinked. "Like, at all?" Emerie asked.

"No I mean... he won't let me touch him."

"Oh, you mean his cock?" Nesta interpreted and she blushed, 

"Yes, that. I've tried twice now an he's put me off both times."

"Really? How odd. Did he say why?"

"No, he just pats me on the head like I'm a good little girl and says 'not this time'."

Emerie wrinkled her nose. "That's a bit..."

"Weird?" Nesta offered.

"Condescending?"

"Patronizing?"

"Presumptuous?"

"Can we stop with the synonyms?" Gwyn begged the two of them. 

"Sorry."

She sighed. "I'm not really sure why he's done it, granted both times I suppose he did have a somewhat legitimate reason for begging off and needing to be elsewhere but... it kinda feels like he doesn't think I can handle it."

"What? Like seeing his massive cock is going to scare you so bad you'll never want to touch another penis again?" Nesta asked, smirking. Gwyn gave her friend a flat look.

"Like he doesn't really believe me when I say I want to do this. I mean. I can appreciate taking things slow. This is the first time I'm trying a lot of these things but... Learning how to please him in return is kind of part of that isn't it?"

Emerie shrugged. "Yeah. It should definitly be a two way street. Otherwise I feel like it kind of puts one of you at a disadvantage."

"So talk to him about it," Nesta said. "You're the queen of talking things out, so tell him."

"I will," she sighed. "But for now I just want to get out my frustrations."

"Just because he wouldn't let you suck him off?"  

She gave Nesta another flat look. "That and because someone interrupted my orgasm this morning."

Nesta winced while Emerie started laughing. "Fair enough. Carry on."

---

Azriel should've known he wouldn't be left in peace today. He'd been in his office attempting to work for all of twenty minutes before Cassian busted his way in and flopped into the chair across the desk. 

Sighing, he rubbed the space between his eyes where he swore a headache was already forming. "Can I help you?"

"You and Berdara."

"What of it?" he asked. "By the way," Truthteller was in his hands in a flash, pointing toward Cassian's spread thighs. "If you barge into either of our rooms, particularly the bathroom, uninvited again. I will cut off your balls and give them to Nesta to feed you."

Cassian held up his hands, laughing. "Alright, easy. To be fair, Nes was the one who barged in this morning. I tried to stop her."

"Don't care. Your mate, your responsibility."

His brother laughed again. "Tell me that again when you have a mate of your own you can barely keep in hand."

Azriel sneered and put away his blade as Cassian laced his fingers behind his head, making himself comfortable. "What do you want?"

"I want you to tell me what's going on with you and Gwyn."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you talk too damn much. You're as bad as an old woman with your gossip."

"Is it supposed to be a secret? Because it isn't much of one now. Half the group knows."

"I don't know, but I'm not going to be the one in trouble for spreading stories about her sex life."

"So you are sleeping with her?"

A growl ripped out of him and Cassian held up his hands again. "Alright, chill. You know, Nes is just going to tell me whatever Gwyn tells her, right?" he said, bluffing. Azriel knew Nesta well enough to know she'd never spill her friends secrets to someone else. Not even her mate. She was too loyal.

"Then ask Nesta and leave me alone."

"Fine, damn. You know, the whole point of sex is to get rid of tension right?"

"Well, that might be easier if massive brutes weren't knocking down the damn door while we were alone," he snarled.

Cassian whistled and finally leapt up from his chair. "Point taken. Let me know if you wanna spar and let out some of that energy. It's not good for you."

He tossed a letter opener at his brother as he quickly left and it lodged in the door, still shaking from the impact. He could hear Cassian laughing all the way down the hall and groaned, knowing it would be impossible to get any work done today while he was still picturing Gwyn's breasts in front of his face and the feel of them in his mouth.

How long do I have to let her spend time with her friends before it wouldn't be considered rude to throw her over my shoulder and drag her back to my room?

---

That night, after staring each other down at dinner, the other's politely pretended not to notice as he took Gwyn's hand and led her back toward their rooms, under the pretense of ordering her to get more rest for her recovery.

As soon as the door to his room shut behind them, he spun, pinning her to the door. His mouth devoured hers, his hand roaming over her body, remembering how her skin had felt under his fingers that morning. One of her hands skated down his body, heading for the opening of his pants and he quickly redirected her hands to his chest.

Which she then shoved against, knocking him back a step. He blinked in surprise. "Sorry, did I misunderstand? I thought we were-"

"Why do you keep doing that?"

He frowned, having completely lost the plot. "Huh? Keep doing what?"

"Every time I try to touch you, you stop me."

He shook his head, trying to think straight. "What do you mean? You were just touching me?"

"No, I mean, everytime I try to touch your- cock," she half choked on the word and it was utterly adorable to know that the woman who had so boldy ordered him to touch her while she was naked this morning, and had spent a good portion of an evening discussing various kinks she was interested in exploring, could barely say the word cock. "You stop me and say 'not now'. Why?"

"Because this is about you. I'm just trying to make sure you're not moving too fast."

She gave him a dry look. "I was naked in the bath with you this morning and you're worried about me touching your cock?"

"It's not that same, Gwyn. We've been moving slow, you're not ready for that."

She bristled, standing taller. "Don't try to tell me what I'm ready for Shadowsinger. Who are you to judge what I can't handle?"

Still thrown by the abrupt change in his evening, Azriel was starting to get irritated. "I do it all the time when we're training, you have no problem then."

"Yeah, when we're dealing with a subject you're actually an expert in."

He scoffed. "Well, I'm certainly more of an expert in this than you." Immediately, Gwyn's expression went cold and Azriel didn't need to be told he'd fucked up. His heart dropped.

"Shit. I didn't mean-" she spun for the door, slamming it in his face before he could gather himself enough to stop her. He followed her into the hall but she shut the door to her room in his face as well and he heard the lock slide shut. "Gwyn! I'm sorry," he said, banging on the door.

"Gwyn, please. Open the door," he pleaded but she ignored him. He cursed under his breath, leaning his forehead against the door. "Fuck."

He stayed there for another minute or two, hoping she might change her mind, but he heard no sound on the other side of the door. Knocking his fist against it one last time he whispered, "I'm sorry" before returning to his room.

---

Gwyn stood with her back pressed to the door until she heard Azriel go back to his room with a dejected sigh and finally let her tears fall.

She might have overreacted a little bit. She'd seen the instant regret on his face after he'd said the words, knew that people sometimes said things they didn't really mean when they were frustrated in someway. Didn't mean the words hadn't still stung.

She needed to disabuse him very quickly of this notion that he knew what was best for her. It was not his decision to make. She trusted his judgment in the training ring because he was a warrior with centuries of experience and he was trying to keep her safe. In this though, she didn't care how many other lovers he'd had before, she was not them.

She already refused to let her own prior experiences dictate how she moved forward, and she would not allow anyone else to either. 

She pushed off the door, stripping out of her clothes on the way to the bed. Her sweatsoaked sheets from when she'd been sick had already been replaced with fresh ones and she crawled between them, curling into a ball in the middle of the bed. She already missed having Azriel beside her and knew that craving his presence in her bed, even just to cuddle was a dangerous slope.

Despite what she might wish, this arrangment would eventually run it's course and Azriel would move on. She wasn't sure how she'd manage, but she would. Just like she handled everything else in her life.

Chapter 11

Notes:

Tandem read: the chapter before this and A Court of Light Ch 7 take place simultaneously.

This is a spicy one. NSFW 🌶🌶🌶

The next morning, Gwyn took her time getting up, waiting till the last second to head out to breakfast. The rest of the House's occupants were already there as she quietly took her seat and started eating. Azriel sat across from her looking thoroughly miserable as he watched her. 

The others filtered out to the training ring while she finished her food, Azriel lingering behind. "Gwyn," he said softly, reaching for her hand. She pulled hers away, still not looking at him.

"Don't."

"Please." Something in his voice made her look up. She wasn't quite sure how to interpret the look in his eyes, but she could see remorse there. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult you, I wasn't trying to be cruel."

Her eyes narrowed on him. "You still don't understand why I'm angry. I don't care what jabs you made about my inexperience, they were true and I know you didn't mean them the way they sounded. You're over five hundred years old, I'm not yet thirty, no matter what, you're going to have more experience than me, that's not what this is about."

His brows furrowed. "Then what is it about?"

"It's about choice, and you respecting mine," she snapped. Standing, she pressed her palms into the table and towered over him in his seat. "Let me be very clear, Shadowsinger. I allow you to teach me things both in the ring and out. I allow you to use that experience you have on me to help me get better at the things I wish to learn. But you do not dictate my limits. I do."

"The only time you should be telling me I can't do something is if it's because you don't want to, not because you think I can't handle it. I'm not made of glass, Azriel. I won't break if you push me and I will always tell you when it's too much. I need you to respect that and trust that I understand myself better than you do."

With that, she stalked out of the room, abandoning the rest of her breakfast.

The remainder of the day was spent avoiding Azriel while his gaze followed her everywhere she went. He was wise enough at least not to try and approach her while she was in a mood, but eventually, she couldn't avoid him any longer.

"Gwyn," he stalked behind her down the hallway to thier rooms. He growled when she said nothing and suddenly she was against the wall, his wings boxing her in so she couldn't escape. "Are you done avoiding me?"

"Are you done being an idiot?" 

His chest rumbled, biceps flexing as he ground his fists into the wall either side of her head. "I'm sorry."

"Are you?" she asked. "Or are you just hoping you'll get lucky?"

His shadows flared, momentarily plunging them into darkness. "Damn it, Gwyn." His shadows retreated. "I said I was sorry, what do you want from me?"

She recalled Mor insinuating that Azriel wasn't the best at relationships and she was starting to understand that now. "I want you to prove it," she said. "Words don't mean anything if you can't back them up."

He tensed, the muscles of his jaw feathering. "What do you want me to do?"

"Let me touch you," she said softly. "Unless you don't want me to?"

He inhaled sharply. "I do."

"Then let me. Learning to pleasure you is part of the deal, too."

"Fine," he sighed.

"No need to sound so unhappy about a blowjob," she laughed.

He winced, smiling slightly. One hand reached out, his fingers skimming along her jaw and down over her throat. "Maybe we work up to the blow job."

"Az."

"Sorry. Habit. I'm... a lot to handle. Even for those who do have experience. I don't want to hurt you."

"So, it's true then?"

His brow furrowed. "What's true?"

Gwyn smirked. "You really are bigger than your brothers."

Azriel jerked back slightly. "How do you- Nevermind. I don't want to know. I also never want to hear you mention my brother's cock ever again," he growled and she laughed.

She reached down and cupped him in her hand, feeling him harden under her touch. "Don't worry. I'm all yours."

"Good." His lips smashed into hers and his shadows surrounded them again, depositing them in his room. She stumbled slightly at the loss of support behind her back and Azriel caught her.

"Alright," he said between kisses. "You're in charge tonight. Tell me what you want me to do and I'll let you do what you want with me."

Excitement bubbled up in her at the prospect of having control over him, followed by uncertainty. "I don't know if that's a good idea. I kind of need some instructions."

He smiled against her lips. "I can give you instructions and still let you be in control. You want to do this, you're the boss. Then you can't blame me later if it goes wrong."

She laughed. "Always the superior's fault isn't it? Not the subordinate?" He just grinned, kissing her again before she pushed him away.

"Alright then." She shook herself,  breathing deeply as she tried to put on the persona she used with the trainees... but with a little more sass. "Strip."

Azriel reached for the hem of his sweater, a sexy smile on his lips. "Yes ma'am."

She walked in a slow cirlce around him, watching as he undressed until he was fully, gloriously naked before her. She dragged her eyes over every toned inch of his body admiring every muscle and scar he'd earned over his many centuries. When she reached his cock, she bit her lip, swallowing hard and trying not to let her eyes bulge out of her head. 

Holy hell. He wasn't kidding when he said he was a lot to handle. Her head tilted, studying it critically. Would it even fit? It had to right? Otherwise he'd never have had so many females in town gushing over him.

She blinked, shaking off any thoughts of him with other females. She didn't like the way it made her feel. Jealous and inadequate. She was supposed to be in control right now, she needed to project confidence. She remembered the sexy underwear she'd put on that afternoon after bathing despite the fact she was still a little pissed at him and squared her shoulders.

When she looked back up at his face, his smile had turned downright smug. "Like what you see?"

Ignoring the taunt, she stepped forward, laying one finger on his chest and slowly dragging it down his body. She felt his muscles tensing beneath her touch and watched as his eyes darkened and his breath quickened. All from the touch of one finger.

He sucked in a breath when she reached his cock, trailing her finger down the length of him while she held his gaze. She flicked her finger off the tip, grazing him with her nail which pulled a gratifying shiver out of him. She took him in hand, her core tightening when she felt how thick he was and pumped him slowly.

He groaned, reaching for her but she shook her head. "No touching."

He frowned, swallowing another groan, but dutifully folded his hands behind his back and let her do as she wished. She pecked his lips, smirking. "Good boy." The nickname earned her another growl but he said nothing as she continued feathering kisses over his jaw and neck, still slowly pumping him in her hand. 

She reached his chest, kissing the tattoos that swirled down from his shoulders like the shadows that wreathed him- wreathed them both at the moment- down his abdomen until she was on her knees, placing a kiss on the vee of muscles at his hips. She paused, looking up at him. His head had dropped back, eyes closed and lips parted. He looked like a work of art. The kind of male beauty the great artists made statues of.

When he felt her hesitate, he lifted his head to look down at her. His eyes were slightly hazy and his cheeks flushed just the smallest bit. Pride swelled in her chest knowing it was her touch that made him look like that.

She glanced at his cock in her hand then back up. "I don't know what to do," she breathed.

"Just let your instincts guide you and take your time." His voice was heavy and gruff with barely restrained desire. "I promise there's very little you can do that won't feel good." 

Gwyn looked back at his massive length in front of her face. It was rather intimidating and she could sort of understand now, why he'd been so hesitant to let her touch him. She pumped him again as she studied him. She loved the feel of him, the contrast of firmness and silky skin. On instinct, she leaned forward, licking him from base to tip. 

Azriel sucked in a breath, his head dropping back against his shoulders. Emboldened, She did it again, paying special attention to the crown that she'd read was ultra sensitive. His powerful thighs flexed, hips jutting forward slightly as he groaned. Interesting. 

Should she be looking at this so clinically? Studying his reactions like a scientist? Maybe not, but it was fascinating to watch him respond to even the simplest touches. Each time she got a new reaction out of him as she continued to explore him with her mouth, she catalogued it in her mind. 

He was breathing rapidly now, his entire body tensed and straining not to move as she worked him into her mouth as deep as she could. His whole body trembled with each gulp of breath he took until- "Please," he begged.

She pulled her mouth off of him with a filthy slurping sound that made her blush. "Please, what?"

"Please don't stop," he breathed, his head angled down now, eyes burning into her. "Please let me touch you. Please make me cum. Take your pick, just please."

She smiled wickedly, enjoying the rush of power she felt to have him at her mercy. Was this how he felt when she let him have control?

She reached behind him, unhooking his hands where they were clenched tightly together and placed one on the back of her head. "Show me what you like," she said.

He didn't need to be told twice, pushing her hair out of her face as he took her in both hands and guided himself back into her mouth. "Suck me," he instructed and she did. He groaned, pumping just the tip into her mouth at first, then more and more until she was nearly gagging on it. Her eyes watered, but she held his gaze as he worked her mouth.

His fist wrapped around her hair, holding it tight as he thrust faster, moaning softly and muttering little praises and words of encouragement. Hearing him tell her she was doing a good job and how good she felt made her feel ten feet tall as his movements became more erratic and she knew he was close to climax.

"Fuck, I'm going come," he warned, trying to pull out of her mouth. She latched onto his ass, holding him in place and forcing him a little deeper as he cried out and spilled down her throat. It was an odd sensation, not exactly unpleasant, but not one she loved either. Still, the look of pure ecstacy on his face was more than worth any discomfort.

When he was finished, she released him and he stumbled back, panting hard. "Fucking hell, Gwyn." He braced an arm against the wall to stay upright as he calmed down. "Please tell me I can touch you now."

She grinned, getting to her feet and ignoring the ache in her knees as she wiped a hand over her face, cleaning up the mess of tears and spit. "As you wish."

As soon as the words left her mouth he charged her. Azriel tossed her face first onto the mattress, pulling her up to her knees and yanking her leggings and underwear down her thighs. She started to push up onto her hands when he grabbed both sides of her ass, squeezing and spreading her before he licked her from behind.

She was already wet and turned on from watching him get off that the moment his tongue found her clit, she saw stars. She screamed into the covers, fisting them in her hands as he quickly brought her to orgasm, her entire body shaking and trembling with aftershocks. Before she could catch her breath from the first one, he plunged two fingers inside her and she was cursing up a storm at how good it felt.

"I can't wait to be buried inside you," he groaned. His fingers made lewd, wet sounds as they pumped inside of her. Mother help her, if it didn't turn her on even more as much as it embarrassed her. "Got to get you ready for me," he muttered, pushing another finger inside of her. She wasn't sure if he was talking to her or himself anymore, but she didn't care as long as he kept doing what he was doing.

He kept her there, ass in the air and face pressed into the mattress until he'd wrung enough orgasms out of her to satisfy himself before letting her collapse in an exhausted heap. He gave her ass another squeeze and smacked it. Her yelp turned into a moan as warmth spread through he and he flopped down beside her, chuckling.

He'd somehow managed to wrangle the rest of her clothes off of her without letting her up so they were both naked, and as he lay on his belly beside her, his wings stretched out to cover her.

"See? That's what I mean about pain and pleasure. When done right they can go together very well."

"I believe you," she mumbled unable to open her eyes.

He pressed a kiss to her shoulder and tucked a pillow under his chest, pulling her to his side. "Sleep, mo chridhe," he whispered as she drifted off, safe and warm and thoroughly satisfied.

---

Gwyn snored softly besides him but Azriel was wide awake. Internally, he'd begun panic spiraling over those last few moments before she fell asleep.

Why the hell would you call her my heart? He really hoped she hadn't heard or understood what he'd said. He hadn't even meant to say it, it just slipped out, as though it were the most natural thing in the world to call her that. But why?

He hadn't spoken his native language since he was a child. No one in Illyria really used it anymore. It was an ancient language that had barely survived over the years and was mostly reserved for euphemisms and terms of endearment like the one he'd just used. 

Would Gwyn even know the language? She was one of the smartest people he knew and had spent several years working in the Library researching all manner of things. He knew she spoke and read other languages, but which ones?

Gwyn snuggled closer in her sleep, muttering something he couldn't make out and his heart in question skipped a beat at her closeness.

He wasn't sure what was happening to him. He'd known Gwyn for a little over a year now- three if one counted from their first meeting- and while he'd always been fond of her, the last few days had sent him into a tailspin. He didn't know up from down anymore. 

When she was in his vacinity, he couldn't keep his eyes off her, could barely keep his hands off of her, wanting her as close to him as possible. When she was out of his sight he could barely focus on anything else, and any hint of another male paying her any kind of attention made him want to destroy something. He'd nearly snapped Cassian's head off at training that morning when he'd corrected Gwyn's form during hand-to-hand drills. 

If he didn't know better, he'd say it was mate behavior, but it had been three years since he'd rescued her from Sangravah. Surely, if it was there, it would've snapped by now, especially with how close they'd been the last few days. Then again, it wasn't as though they'd be the first couple who's bond did not snap immediately.

Cassian and Nesta's had only snapped a year ago, and Kallias and Viviane had known each other since they were children but theirs hadn't snapped until after they married.

What did any of it mean anyway? Even if she were is mate, would she accept it? She'd asked him to help her get comfortable with sex, presumably so she could be comfortable with other males- which made his blade hand twitchy. She hadn't asked him for romance, for a courtship. For love. She hadn't asked him for anything beyond physical. Would she even want it?

His chest felt hollow to consider that she might reject or ignore the bond if it did exist. He felt a new level of appreciation for what Lucien must have been dealing with the last few years with Elain barely acknowledging his presence.

No use worrying over it now, he scolded himself. You can try to change her mind later. Not much you can do while she's sleeping next to you besides enjoy it.

So he did.

Notes:

Mo chridhe is Scottish Gaelic for 'my heart'. I stated in a previous chapter note that I saw the batboys as having Scottish accents, thus, it seemed fitting for Scots Gaelic to be the Illyrian language. I'm not by any means an expert which is why I made it an 'ancient' language that they rarely spoke

Chapter 12

Notes:

This gets a bit angsty and then a bit spicy 🌶

The next day, at training, Nesta suggested they all go to town that night. "It's been a few weeks," she said. "We can check on Elain and Lucy boy. Make sure he's not violating my sister while Rhys and Feyre are gone."

"Nes," Cassian scolded, frowning. "Give the poor guy a break, would you. He's been through hell, and Elain seemed happy to have him here. Let them be."

Nesta scowled. "I don't trust him."

"You didn't trust any fae when you first got here and look at you now." She leveled a look at him and he winced. "Ok, so you still don't trust most fae, but you've warmed up to us well enough... sort of."

"I think it's a great idea," Emerie volunteered. "I could use a drink."

"You can drink at the house," Azriel pointed out.

"True, but I like the atmosphere."

"Alright fine," Cassian relented. "We'll go after dinner." His mate rewarded him with a kiss that made him puff out his chest like he'd won the ultimate prize. Gwyn would never tire of watching how besotted Cass was with her friend, and how she pretended not to be just as in love with him in return.

"Sounds like a plan," Emerie said cheerily, sweeping off to her rooms to clean up after the round of conditioning the guys had put them through.

That evening, Gwyn stood in front of her closet, wavering in indecision as she tried to decide what to wear. She hadn't had an opportunity to show off much of her new wardrobe yet and was nearly paralyzed with indecision, not used to having so many options. Luckily, Nesta popped her head in to see how she was getting along and started handing her pieces to wear before helping fix her hair and add a touch of makeup.

She examined herself in the mirror now, admiring the way the fitted leather pants and boots made her legs look, while the slouchy red sweater showed off just a hint of skin at her shoulder. Her hair was in a high ponytail, wispy tendrils hanging around her face and Nesta had tinted her lashes a dark brown, and stained her lips crimson.

"You look good," Nes said, smacking her on the ass. "Grab a coat and let's go."

She yelped and rubbed her rear as she followed her friend to the front of the House, snatching up a wool jacket on the way. Azriel's eyes roamed over her appreciatively as she approached. It wasn't until they were all together that they realized the problem.

Normally, Mor would also be there to help get all of the girls down from the House. Without her, they were an uneven group since Emerie couldn't use her wings to fly down like the other Illyrians.

"Shit, sorry Em," Nesta said. "I forgot."

"It's alright," Azriel said. "I can make two trips."

"Perhaps we should stay at the River House after," Cass suggested. "That way no one's flying back and forth drunk."

"Fine by me." 

Cassian picked up Nesta and Azriel held his arms out to Emerie before looking back at Gwyn "I'll be back for you."

She nodded, and watched them fly off, leaning against the balcony railing to watch the lights below. Several minutes later, a dark figure headed back towards her through the air, but it was not Azriel. Cassian gave her an apologetic smile as he landed. "As soon as we got there, one of Az's spies reached out. He has to meet with a contact, but he'll catch up with us at Rita's."

"Oh. Ok." She allowed Cassian to pick her up and enjoyed the flight over. Cassian was a much smoother flier than Azriel who liked to flow up and down with the air current, racing through the sky. Rhysand had speculated once that he thought it was becase Azriel had learned to fly much later than the rest of them and had a different appreciation for the air.

Nesta and Emerie were already inside the bar when they arrived, tucked into a corner table with a round of drinks before them. Gwyn accepted a mug of the ale she preferred and settled into the end of the cushioned booth while Cassian took one of the chairs across the table to accommodate his wings. 

They'd been chatting at their table for a few minutes, laughing at some other story Cassian had relayed from their childhood when Gwyn caught sight of Azriel across the crowded bar.... talking to a buxom, blonde female. Gwyn froze, drink still raised to her mouth as she observed them. 

They huddled close together, speaking quietly as the gorgeous female's hand trailed over Azriel's bicep. Heat flooded her veins and her stomach churned uncomfortably. She and Azriel had never agreed that they would be exclusive for the duration of their arrangement, and she'd made no claim on him. She had no right to be jealous. But rationality had no bearing on how she felt right now. Her insides felt hollowed out, agonizingly so, and at the same time, she wanted to set the bar on fire.

Cassian noticed her inattention and followed her gaze across the room. He quickly turned back around, wincing. For some reason, that made Gwyn's ire rise several notches. She drained the rest of her drink and glared daggers at the couple across the bar until a waitress appeared in her line of vision asking if she wanted another round. She nodded absently, still glaring at the same spot until she moved and Gwyn saw Azriel again. 

He was looking right at her.

---

Shit . Shit, shit, shit. 

Azriel had spotted Gwyn across the bar as soon as he walked in and his entire being thrummed with the need to go to her, but he had a job to do first. His contact, Jara, was waitng for him at the bar. He slid into the stool next to her with a flirtatious smile, in full Spymaster mode. Jara, a beautiful blonde fairie with plush curves and snowy skin greeted him with a sultry smile and a kiss on the cheek.

"What's happening?" he muttered under his breath while outwardly carrying on a mundane conversation that made it appear as though he were attempting to take her home with him. 

"There's been reports of defections in the northern camps," she murmuered through her smile, playing along. "Older and younger, doesn't seem to make a difference. The only common thread is they all want Rhysand dead."

Azriel swore silently. He'd thought after the battle with Koschei- well hoped more than actually believed- that they'd put the rebellion amongst the Illyrians to rest when Rhysand gave many of the louder dissenters, concessions that would allow them to form their own warcamps in the farthest reaches of the territory, where they wouldn't have as much oversight. He wouldn't release them from his control entirely, knowing they'd just start causing havoc all over Illyria. Still, it had been far more generous that Azriel had felt they deserved.

"They've been recruiting it seems," Jara continued. "Discreetly. They pass through the other warcamps, one or two by themselves and quietly spread rumors to rile up any other sympathizers and draw them in. Their numbers have been growing much faster than we first thought if the number of 'missing persons' is anything to go by."

Azriel pretended to laugh at something she said as she touched his arm casually. "Anything else?"

"That's all for now. It's hard to get info on them since they're so far North and spread out, without going into their territory."

"No one's going in there," he growled. "Leave that to me."

"You got it boss." Jara nodded, taking a sip of her drink. "Now, why don't you go soothe the pretty redhead that's been glaring murder at me for the last ten minutes?" 

"Huh?" His eyes automatically flew across the bar to the corner table where he'd spotted Gwyn earlier, just as a waitress moved from in front of her. She was indeed watching them with a rather fierce expression that lit a fire in his core. Was she jealous? It was a good look aonher. He smiled internally, imagining all the ways he could help her release that agression burning in her eyes.

Jara was smirking at him, genuinely this time. "Go on. I need to get back to my little ones anyways, before my husband loses his mind."

"Alright. Good work, Jara," he kissed her cheek, standing from his chair and helping her down from hers. He nodded at the bartender to add her drink to his tab, but he used this place often enough, they knew the drill. 

"Good luck," she sang, brushing past him and out the door.

Azriel rolled his shoulders and made his way across the bar. As he moved, patrons parted for him to allow the terrifying Shadowsinger through. It bothered him sometimes, that people were so scared of him without even knowing him, but the reputation certainly made his job easier. And in moments like this, he was thankful for the ability to quickly move through a room.

"Hello ladies, Cass," he greeted taking the other free chair on the end, next to Gwyn. His knee brushed against hers under the table and she shifted away. He smiled to himself, hooking his foot around her ankle, pulling her leg towards him and trapping it beneath his own, spreading her open for him. She glared as he slid his hand up her thigh, feeling the supple leather.

His shadows snaked down his arm and extended from his fingers, slipping under the hem of her sweater as his fingers brushed between her thighs. She jumped so hard her knee banged the table and her drink sloshed over the rim, drawing the attention of their companions and a few others nearby. His wing automatically stretched out to hide what his hand was doing as he stroked her through her pants, watching her struggle to keep her composure.

"You ok?" Emerie asked, looking startled. Nes and Cass both smirked at Azriel, knowing exactly what he was doing. He ignored them both, smothering a laugh with his free hand as Gwyn coughed.

"Fine."

"Anyways," Cassian said a little too loudly, continuing his story. Nesta's ear twitched, listening as Gwyn leaned forward and hissed at him.

"You bastard. I hate you."

"No you don't." 

The shadows under her she sweater tweaked her nipples, making her bite her lip as more spilled down his arm, tugging at the laces of her pants. Her hand flew beneath the table, tightening them again. Instead, he resumed stroking her through the leather.

"Stop," she whimpered. He almost did, but he could smell her arousal, and feel her tilt her hips for better access. 

He leaned closer. "Not until you're not mad at me anymore."

"I'm not mad," she growled, gripping his wrist tightly as his fingers crept toward her laces again. Her cheeks were flushed, and he knew their friends were aware of what was happening and were choosing to ignore it because he could feel others, other males, turning their focus in her direction, drawn by her scent.

Part of him wanted to swallow them both up in his shadows and hide her from everyone's gaze but his own, so no one could see what he was doing to her. Another part, felt like it was staking it's claim on her and wanted them all to know it.

"Say it like you mean it," he said, leaning even closer until their lips were inches apart. "Make me believe it."

"Who was she," Gwyn asked, even as her eyes trailed down to his lips.

"No one."

"Not good enough," she snarled and he grinned.

His shadows touched her again and she jerked hard, drawing more attention. "She's no one, Berdara," he repeated, catching her lip with his teeth. He whispered to her, explaining. "She was my contact."

"Oh, oh..." Her cheeks flamed in embarrasment.

"For goodness sake, just take her home already, Az." Nesta wrinkled her nose, but her eyes glittered with amusement.

---

Gwyn's cheeks burned as she hurriedly followed Az back out of the bar and into the fresh air.  

She was mortified, having realized just how many people had been aware of what Azriel had been doing to her. Shame flooded her. 

Her thoughts regarding sex had always been on the darker side, more so than she was sure anyone would guess, but she'd never thought public play was her thing. If she was being honest, she still didn't think it was, but Azriel had a way of bringing out the demon in her. The one that delighted in her dirtier fantasies.

As soon as they were out the door, she shook off his hand and marched ahead of him, weaving through the evening crowd, unsure where she was going, she just needed some space. Of course, he didn't give it to her. She could feel him not two steps behind her no matter how hard she tried to get away. 

When she dodged into an alley, he somehow stepped in front of her, his shadows pinning her in from behind. "Where are you going?"

"Away," was all she could think to say, still too flustered to think straight. 

"Away?" he asked, amused. "Are you going to walk back to the House? I imagine those stairs will be quite daunting right now given how weak your knees are feeling."

"My knees are not weak," she protested. Liar. She'd been walking unsteadily for the past few minutes since he pulled her out of her seat at the bar. 

"Mmhmm." He gave her a condescending little smile and stepped closer, crowding her. Already her breath was coming unevenly and her underwaer was growing damp. How did he keep doing that to her? She'd never been so horny before. But then she'd never been able to give herself the kind of pleasure that he did.

"So if I did this..." he raised a hand, brushing over her nipples through her sweater and sure enough her knees faltered for a second. He took the opportunity to wrap his arm around her back and pull her against him. 

She growled, shoving against his chest but he didn't relent. "Fine, you made your point. Just take me home."

He made no move to pick her up so they could fly back to the House. "You still haven't told me you're not mad at me anymore."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not mad."

"Still don't believe you."

"I'm not." She grit her teeth so hard her jaw hurt. He trailed a finger over the clenched muscles.

"Yes, very convincing."

"What do you want from me?" she hissed.

"Exactly what I said."

"I told you, I'm not mad."

"And I told you, I don't believe you."

She growled again in frustration. "I'm not mad, I'm jealous!"

He pulled back, grinning victoriously. He wanted her to admit she was jealous. Bastard. She punched him in the chest, he barely flinched. "I hate you."

"No you don't," he kissed her, scooping her up in his arms and exiting the alley as he prepared to take off. 

"Why on earth would you want me to be jealous?"

"Because you looked like a vengeful goddess and it was the most glorious thing I've ever seen."

"You are not right in the head."

He grinned, launching them into the sky. She clung to his shoulders, shrieking. He just laughed, racing across the city, the Sidra a dark ribbon of water winding beneath them. "I don't care," he claimed. "Gwyneth Berdara, angry and vengeful, is incredibly hot. I would worship at that alter."

"Definitely not healthy."

"Again, don't care." They landed outside the River House, walking through it's wards. The house was silent as they entered and Azriel lead her to the guest room he used when he stayed there. As soon as he laid her out on the bed, he showed her exactly how he worshipped. On his knees.

Notes:

Tandem read: A Court of Light Ch 8

 

The action (and the angst) is about to pick up as we head into the last few chapters of Part 1 😬

Chapter 13

Notes:

Tandem read: This chapter follows A Court of Light Ch 8

Azriel was in the training ring with Cassian after the girls had gone back downstairs to shower and relax for the day. It had been a while since they'd sparred together and Azriel was feeling restless after his conversation with Rhysand last night.

He'd relayed what he'd learned from Jara about the rebellion in Iliyria. Rhys hadn't seemed nearly as worried as Azriel thought he should be and had waved him off, promising to 'think on it.' "One problem at a time, Az."

Azriel ducked under Cassian's sword, bringing up the hilt of his own to undercut his ribs, but his brother expertly spun away from the blow. Cassian was one of the only people who could best him anymore. Him and occasionally Rhys. He didn't count Gwyn in there considering that half the times she'd beaten him, he'd allowed her to in order for her to practice executing some new move she was learning, and the other half had been because she'd distracted him... which he supposed was really his own fault. A good fighter didn't succumb to distraction.

Speaking of distraction...

Stars flared across his vision as Cassian's elbow slammed into his chin, knocking his teeth together. Hard. He stumbled back, swinging his sword in a wild arc to keep Cassian at bay while he tried to clear his vision. His brother grinned at him.

"Wake up, Azzie," he taunted. "Your head's in the clouds. Or perhaps between a certain redhead's thighs."

A fierce growl ripped form his chest as he launched an attack at his brother that had Cass high on guard. When he'd finally backed off, Cassian had whistled low, still taunting him. "I should mention Gwyn next time we're fighting off some assholes on a mission. You'll take care of them in no time."

"Shut your damn mouth. You talk too much."

"You love my big mouth. Everyone does."

"I'm surprised no one's cut out your tongue yet," he groused.

Cassian laughed. "Easy. Nes loves my tongue and no one takes Nes' toys."

Azriel pretended to gag. "Grow up."

"Never." Cassian lunged forward and in seconds had his blade at Azriel's throat. There was a reason the big, dumb idiot had been general of the Night Courts armies for centuries.

Still, Azriel hated losing. He knocked the blade away with a snarl and stalked out of the ring towards the water cooler. The memory from the night Gwyn had first asked him to start their little arrangement popped into his mind. Had it really only been a week? It felt like much longer than that.

Being with Gwyn was easy. Their friendship had grown organically over the last year, and the transition from friends to friends with benefits had been much smoother than he'd expected. There had been a moment that night, a brief one where he'd almost said no. He'd been afraid it would ruin their friendship or at least screw with the dynamics of their group and their relationship as trainee and mentor, but no. Everything was still virtually the same, but different.

Gwyn was still a snarky, irreverent smart ass who couldn't resist a challenge and wasn't afraid to tell him where to stick it when he got grouchy with her. He loved that she wasn't afraid him. So few weren't. 

"There you go again," Cass said, chuckling. "You've got it bad. When are you going to tell her?"

"Tell her what?"

Cassian looked him over, eyes narrowing like he was looking for something. "Nevermind," he said after a moment, smiling to himself. Gods, he could be an annoying little shit when he wanted. He didn't care that Cassian was bigger than him, Azriel was still the oldest of the three of them. They would always be his little brothers.

Gulping down the rest of his water, he rolled his shoulders, stretching out the tightness in them and ruffled his wings. "Let's go again."

Cassian chuckled and bowed sarcastically. "Yes, master."

"Little shit," Azriel muttered as he stepped back in the ring, ignoring his brother's laughter.

---

Gwyn woke to one of Azriel's hands wandering over her body. His shadows lay over them like a protective blanket, rising and falling softly like they too were sleeping. They stirred, coiling around his shoulders as he rolled her underneath him. His body hovered over hers as he trailed kisses along her neck, moving down her chest to her stomach. She stopped him with a gentle hand, pulling him back up.

"Sorry," he rumbled softly. "I should have asked."

She smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes. "No, no. I'd be all for it but- I'm a little sore," she winced. Azriel had introduced her to a few toys, all of which she very much enjoyed, but he'd pulled so many orgasms out of her, her body was still feeling oversensistive and she didn't want to be touched at the moment. "But I'm happy to help if you need relief."

He nuzzled her cheek, resting his hips against her thigh so she could feel how hard he was. "You don't have to."

"I know I don't. I'm volunteering," she reached around him, pinching his ass. He jerked, hips bumping against her, groaning as she giggled. 

"Cruel, cruel woman."

"Well, if that's how you're going to speak to me after offering you a hand job-" she teased, making to roll out from underneath him. He growled, going down to his elbows to cage her in. 

"Touch me," he said quietly, holding her gaze in the dark.

"Where?"

"Anywhere. Everywhere. I want to feel your hands on me."

She obliged him, running her hands from his hips, along the sides of his waist. She felt a small raised scar under her fingertips on his chest, inches from his heart and was surprised she hadn't noticed it before, but she supposed his tattoos covered it up. "Where'd you get this?" she asked.

Given the superior healing abilities of the Illyrians, she was surprised they had any scars at all. But then, Cassian she knew had several that were visible when he wasn't wearing a shirt, Emerie's wings were scarred where they were clipped, and Azriel's hands...

"During the war," he answered. "I didn't see as much combat as Cassian and Rhysand since Rhys's father mostly kept me at court to report all the secrets my shadows picked up. He was a wily bastard, paranoid his son was going to take him out, not unlike Beron."

"Some courtier in the Hewn City didn't like that any of their private actions or conversations might be open to my shadows. Snuck in my room and tried to take me out while I was sleeping. My shadows woke me in time to throw his blade off course, but it still hurt."

She hummed softly, continuing her exploration. She found another scar on left bicep. "This one?"

She could hear the smirk in his voice. "Snowball fight."

"A snowball fight?" she repeated, confused.

"Rhysand was drunk and bitter about losing," was the only explanation he gave.

"Ok..." her hands moved down his arms, finding another on the inside of his forearm. This time, he answered without prompting as she stopped to trace the long line.

"I was an idiot teenager who tried to catch a sword someone chucked at me. Learned that lesson well."

She chuckled, picturing a dark, surly teenaged version of Azriel. Her hands moved lower without thinking and when they reached the scars on his hands- Azriel jerked away abruptly, scrambling across the mattress so fast his wings flared out to keep him from falling off of the bed.

Gwyn sat up, pulling the sheet with her to cover herself as she backed up against the headboard to give him space. She stared at him in the dark with wide eyes, watching the outline of his shoulders that moved with his quick breaths. She had fairly good eyesight, even in the dark, but his wings were still flared out, blocking most of the light from the windows. She blinked a few times, focusing on him and saw the way his head bowed, staring at his hands in his lap.

She knew he was self concious about his scars. She'd seen the way his shadows often covered them around others, but she'd touched his hands many times before and he'd never had this strong of a reaction.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, curling her legs up to her chest. "I didn't mean to- offend."

He lifted his head, peering at her through the dark. His wings closed, tucking in behind his back as he made himself smaller, less intimidating. His shadows, which had been swirling frantically around him, cleared, settling back around his shoulders. One tendril snaked across the mattress, brushing her leg. 

"You didn't," he said, sounding pained. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't." Carefully, she uncurled herself from her position at the top of the bed and moved towards him. He sat still, letting her come to him. Tentatively, she reached out a hand, taking one of his and bringing it to her lips. She didn't ask him about the scars, she could hear the hitch in his breath as she touched them now. He would tell her when he was ready.

Instead, she gently tugged him back up the bed to lay with her. He went willingly, allowing her to lead him. She draped the sheet over them both as she lay on her back, his head resting on her stomach. His arms wrapped around her waist, the rhythm of his heartbeat slowing as she gently stroked his hair and shoulders. 

That soft light in her chest glowed a little brighter as he took comfort from her. Quietly, she began to sing.

And his shadows sang back.

Notes:

Tandem read: A Court of Light Ch 9

Chapter 14

Notes:

Tandem read: This chapter runs tandem with A Court of Light Ch 9 after the first break

The Valkyries had just finished training, the priestesses returned to the library, when Rhysand's voice suddenly shouted at all of them in their minds. Gwyn and Emerie, who had never experienced it before both startled. Gwyn dropped into a crouch, daggers in hand while Emerie drew her sword and glanced around wildly.

To the River House, now. Elain is missing.

Azriel's heart skipped a beat.

Without hesitation, Gwyn and Nesta sprinted for the door, the others following. The newest additions to the Valkyrie, Vera, Mya and Ondine, who had not returned home yet, stared after them, confused and forgotten. Azriel heard Cassian shout some rushed explantion to them as he rushed to catch Gwyn and Nesta, promising to come back for them. Downstairs, Mor was already running out of her room, buckling on weapons.

"Everyone ready? I'll winnow us out."

"Yes!" Emerie and Cassian shouted as they caught up.

They stopped briefly at the River House to hear what little Lucien knew about what had happened before splitting up and searching the city. An hour later, Azriel managed to track down one of the contacts in his network who breathlessly told him what they'd seen. He swore loudly, startling the fairy but thanked them and went in search of Rhysand to recall everyone.

Elain had been taken. As soon as his contact described the males they'd seen trailing Elain, Azriel knew who they were. General Cathal and Commander Eamon of the Darkbringers. 

Beron and Keir had attempted to form an alliance in the past, and he knew well that Keir was just as eager to undermine Rhys as Beron was. He could well believe that, after being rescued from the tribunal, Beron might have sought refuge in the Hewn City and made a deal with Keir to take Elain.

Keir had access to Velaris thanks to the bargain he'd made with Rhys in exchange for the Darkbringers' aid against Hybern, and had no other motive for taking Elain as far as he could tell. But Beron... He remembered the story of how Lucien had ended up abandoning his home in Autumn for Spring and couldn't help but feel like history was repeating itself.

Rhys had been furious when he'd learned, as had Mor. Azriel's mind had immediately gotten to work imagining all the creative things he might use Truthteller for on Keir, before Mor declared she would kill him herself. Though reluctant to let go of such a quarry, he would not begrudge Mor her own vengence.

The fear and panic he'd seen on Rhys and Feyre's faces once Eris' note arrived, confirming that Beron and his men had been spotted with Elain entering Under the Mountain, he'd begun planning.

He started to lay out the beginnings of his plan for the others. He'd not been Under the Mountain and was not familiar with the layout. Little though he liked to admit it, they would need the help of someone who had spent time there. Lucien, and his brother Eris, were their best resources in this case, so most of their planning would have to occur after they arrived and he had time to learn, and assess the situation they were walking into.

Nesta interupted to insist on joining them, and after Cassian begrudgingly agreed, he amended- "Cassian, Lucien, Nesta and I-"

"We means all three of us," Gwyn interjected.  His head whipped in her direction and he reacted to the roaring beast in his chest before he could think better of it.

"No."

"Yes," she snarled back, lifting her chin as she glared at him with eyes full of challenge. Before he could protest again, Rhys intervened, stating all three of the Valkyries would accompany them.

Overruled, he tried another tactic. "Lucien can't jump all of us. We'd have to walk at least part way since there aren't enough of us to fly. That would take days."

Mor solved that problem by volunteering to help Lucien winnow them all there before returning to deal with her father. Gwyn nodded her thanks, shooting Azriel a look tinged with satisfaction that dared him to say anything else.

Of course that was when Lucien's parents arrived, also volunteering to come along. How they'd known what had happened, he wasn't sure. He could only guess that Eris had kept them informed on his father's movements as well.

While everyone allowed Lucien and his mother a private moment for their reunion, Azriel glanced at Gwyn who was speaking quietly with her friends. He tried to stem the worry that was swirling in his gut. He wasn't even sure why he was reacting this way. He knew Gwyn was trained to fight, that she could handle herself. He'd helped train her. She may not be on the same level as him or Cassian or even Lucien, but neither were Nesta or Emerie and he didn't feel the same concern in allowing either of them to come along.

Once everyone had made thier greetings, Rhys waved for Azriel to continue but as soon as he said the words 'Under the Mountain', another flurry of questions began. His wings rustled behind him, aggitated. He understood there were a lot of people now involved in this plan and they all had opinions and questions, but he was beginning to feel like he was losing control of the situation which caused a wave of irrational anger to rise in him.

When he finally got his plan out, which didn't amount to much more than all of them meeting Eris where he was currently stationed with his men, monitoring the entrance Beron had used in order to make a more concrete plan of attack; Rhys, who had been forbidden by Cassian to join them thanks to the idiotic bargain he'd made with Feyre that could mean losing them both if anything went wrong, declared he and his mate were going to bed, effectively dismissing them all. 

Lucien escorted his parents to his townhouse to spend the night and Mor winnowed the girls back to the House. He and Cassian lingered as Amren voiced her opinions on the potential political ramifications of the day's events and her intention to join Mor in dealing with Keir. They finally flew home, both tense with the anticipation of the coming fight. Luckily, Cassian didn't seem to be in a chatty mood since Azriel also did not feel like speaking.

His brother went in search of his mate as soon as they landed and Azriel stalked off to his room. At the last second, he continued on, barging into Gwyn's room instead. She had just emerged from the bathroom, dressed for bed in another little nightgown that made his blood stir.

He kicked the door shut behind him, stepping out of his boots and pulling his sweater over his head. "Strip."

She hesitated for a moment, then obeyed, giving him her back as she pulled the straps of the nightgown over her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. He eyed the movement of her hips as she moved to the bed, and prowled after her while continuing to remove his own clothes. He stopped her before she could climb up, spinning her around. "On your knees."

She smirked as she sank down. "Are you in charge this time, then? I thought I was the boss?"

"If you don't learn to control that smart mouth, Berdara, I'll give you something else to do with it," he growled gatheirng her hair in his fist. She raised a brow but didn't comment as she rested her hands on his thighs, waiting for further command. He fisted himself, holding the tip of his cock to her lips. "Open." She did, watching him as she worked himself into her throat. 

He'd often found himself needing to blow off steam both before and after fights in the past. Usually, he sought the help of a female, or occasionally a male, who didn't mind being roughly handled, but he and Gwyn had never really done anything like that. So, even with the way his nerves were on edge, he tried not to be too hard with her. Even so, she gagged on him more than once, tears spilling down her cheeks as he fucked her mouth until he came, but she never once tried to stop him, just dug her nails into his legs and held on.

He pulled her off him, both of them panting and gasping for air. Without a word, he guided her to stand with the hand still holding her hair before grabbing her around the waist and tossing her onto the bed. She bounced, laughing breathlessly and gave him a heated look. "I think I like this caveman side of you, Shadowsinger."

Oh, dove, if you only knew.

He pushed her further up the bed where he could crawl between her legs and ordered her to "stay still" while he bent to taste her. 

---

Gwyn lay on her back, staring at a spot on the ceiling as Azriel's mouth worked magic on her body. He'd ordered her not to move, pinching her nipples painfully when she'd squirmed. When even that didn't work, he'd enlisted his shadows which were now wound around her wrists, ankles, waist and throat, holding her down. They weren't hurting her but the urge to move was almost too much to resist.

She whimpered as he brought her to the edge again, keeping her focus on that spot on the ceiling so she didn't squirm and make him draw out her torture even more. His fingers traced featherlight over her skin and she could hear the smugness in his voice as he spoke to her again in coaxing tones.

"You know how to end this, Gwyn. All you have to do is say one word and I'll let you come."

She grit her teeth, breathing deeply through her nose. She wouldn't break. She refused. She'd given in once, the first time he touched her, and she wouldn't do it again. No matter what he said about submission not making her weak, she couldn't quite bring herself to believe it.

The irony that she thought this while allowing him to shackle her to the bed, was not lost on her.

Azriel sighed dramatically. "I guess you need more time to think on it..." she felt the bed shift as he started to climb off and whimpered again.

"No! Pl-" she bit her lip, not finishing the word. 

Azriel paused, grinning wickedly. "What was that?"

"Ugh, I hate you," she sobbed.

"No you don't. Now come one, dove. Say it for me. Just once," he breathed against her skin, hovering just above where she wanted him. She wasn't sure where the nickname had come from all of a sudden, but she liked it. His fingers trailed through her wetness and she trembled.

Unable to hold back anymore she gave in, practially screaming it. "Oh, Gods. Please, please, please."

"Good girl," he purred, the bindings holding her down vanished as he dove back down attacking her sex with fervor until she was screaming and crying through the most intense orgasm of her life.

She was still shaking and trembling when he crawled his way up her body, kissing away the tears that had leaked out. "Was that so hard?" he teased.

"Fuck you."

Azriel laughed. "Love to." He kissed her slowly, allowing her to wrap herself around him. "Now, tell me that wasn't the best orgasm you've ever had."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not here to pad your ego."

He grinned. "I'm serious. Lesson four... or was it three? Delayed gratification."

She stared at him, incredulous. "You mean you intended to torture me?"

"Of course," he shrugged. "Even if you had said please, I probably still would've dragged it out a little longer. Edging can be a lot of fun and always leads to the most intense climaxes. And it's a good lesson in doing as your told." He flashed her a cocky grin, rolling off her body.

"You are insufferable." 

"Nonsense. You love it. Besides, what kind of Spymaster would I be without a little torture?"

"Definitely insane."

He smirked, climbing off the bed and pulling on his clothes. She sat up, watching him. "You're not staying?"

"I have work to do before we leave," he said, keeping his back to her as he strode to the door. His shadows trailed after him almost reluctantly. 

She felt a twinge of disappointment as he left without another word. Tears burned her eyes as she crawled under the covers, curling up in a ball, his scent still permeating the room. The House dimming the lights down to nothing as she continued staring at the door. A stuffed pegasus appeared on the bed beside her and she hugged it to her chest gratefully. This felt like a punishment, though she wasn't sure what for. She knew he'd been annoyed at having been overruled in allowing her to come along tomorrow, but surely he wasn't that angry? He certainly hadn't voiced the same opposition to Nesta coming and none at all for Emerie.

She had a feeling they were in need of another little chat soon. But, she was too tired to fight with him tonight, so instead, she closed her eyes, and let herself succumb to sleep.

Notes:

Tandem read: A Court of Light Ch 10

 

This was a very basic depiction of the 'crash' that often comes after certain types of play like Dom/sub, particularly when things get a little rough or intense. This is why aftercare is important, to check in and make sure everyone is feeling ok. Some people prefer to be left alone, others need things like cuddles... poor Gwyn 😢

Chapter 15

Notes:

Tandem read: This chapter both follows A Court of Light Ch 10 and coincides with Ch 11

Anxiety was the ruling emotion today. From the moment Gwyn had emerged in the dining room for breakfast, fully kitted out in Illyrian leathers and armor with throwing knifes hooked in her belt and the dagger he'd given her before the battle with Koschei strapped to her thigh, until now, as they entered the tunnels of the cave, he'd been sick with it.

Rhys had allowed the girls to raid his armory and they were all loaded up with a rather impressive amount of weapons, including the swords slung over their backs. He could almost feel the dark power coming off of Ataraxia as Nesta unsheathed it and eyed the one Gwyn pulled, inspecting it again for any weaknesses.

He grabbed her wrist, just before she and the Valkyries turned off to follow Cassian's group in one direction while he and the rest of Eris' men moved in another. She'd barely spoken all morning and had placed herself between her sisters rather than beside him both at breakfast and as they waited in the forest. He was sure the upcoming battle had her nervous and wanted to offer his own reassurance, even as he ignored his own worry for her safety. She opened her mouth as he pulled her to him, kissing her hard as though it would be enough to assuage his nerves once she was out of his sight. His desire for her stirred the minute her lips met his and he had to force himself to let her go and turn away.

As they moved through the dark passageways, they passed an opening that led into a low lit room that appeared to be a grotesque version of a throne room with red floors and columns, with the smell of blood and death lingering. A few steps beyond it, two Autumn males rounded the corner surprising them. They were dispatched quickly, but not before one began to shout. 

They heard multiple footsteps approach and rather than seperate into the two groups they'd originally planned, they all prepared to fight. Azriel immediately took command shouting orders as they surrounded either side of the corridor, bottlenecking anyone who ran through into their waiting blades while the others watched their backs. 

He realized then that the men his shadows had detected earlier, must have moved towards the other side of the underground fortress while they'd been planning and waiting for dark as they found no more than six men on their side, which meant...

Azriel turned on his heel, gesturing for his group to follow as they raced back in the other direction. Up ahead he could hear shouts and the clattering of weapons. They rounded a corner, finding the open door to the dining room where Lucien and his family were confronting Beron up ahead.

There was a feral scream and Azriel's head turned to see the Valkyries- lead by Nesta, her sword covered in silver flames- chasing two men towards the open doors, each of them splattered with blood. His heart stopped for a moment until he realized that none of it was Gwyn's.

"Move!" he heard Cassian shout behind them as he and the men he'd been leading came barreling down the hall behind them, almost a dozen men chasing them. A few of them hurled flames at them, and Eris' men returning fire as they ran. As soon as they passed, Azriel and his men converged on them from behind, taking them out one by one while he pushed his way through to Gwyn.

The dining room was pure chaos. He could see Lucien facing off with his adoptive father, power quietly simmering around him. He couldn't see Elain from his position, but there were enough of their own people around, he decided not to worry for the moment. Lucien wouldn't let anything happen to her.

He turned his attention back to Gwyn, just in time to hear her cry out in pain as a large male fell against her legs, taking her down. "Gwyn!" He pushed his way through the chaos to her, taking out the male who landed on her and shoving him out of the way.

He pulled her to her feet, but she cried out again as one of her legs gave out. He pulled her against his side, turning his back to the wall and continued to fight one handed. The fighting was quickly dying out, Eris' men prevailing as they took down Darkbringers and their fellow men. He saw a few of Beron's noblemen slip out of the room, unnoticed, like cowards, but he was in no position to follow them, with Gwyn leaning against him for support.

Cassian had things well in hand and he took the moment to turn his attention to the back of the room, where Beron was screaming as his son, wife and Helion tore him to pieces. He scanned the room for Elain, finding her on the ground in front of Lucien, the two of them holding onto each other as though ensuring they were alright. He turned to do the same with Gwyn, holding her out in front of him as he scanned her head to toe for injury.

Her ankle was bent at an awkard angle, he had no doubt the tendons around it were shredded, but she likely had her pliant bones to thank for the fact that her leg didn't also appear to be broken. There was a small slash on her arm and scrapes and bruises along her jaw, but she appeared otherwise fine. 

Sighing in relief, he tucked her against him once again and waited for the others to finish what they were doing. He hadn't done as much fighting as he'd expected and was still full of energy but with no where to channel it for the time being so he focused on the female in his arms. He leaned against the wall, holding Gwyn against his chest and stroking her hair as the beast in his chest that had been pacing all day began to settle.

Power rippled through the room as Beron's screams finally died off and his title passed to his eldest son. Brimming with magic, fire danced across Eris' hair and shoulders as he stalked out of the room, calling his hounds. "I'll find the other traitors," he told his men. "Clean this up and take them-" he pointed to the few men Cassian had helped wrangle up. "-back to the dungeons." He left without further comment or farewell.

His men followed with their prisoners, leaving the handful of darkbringers who were left with Cassian. Helion and Anwyn approached looking grimly satisfied while Lucien followed with Elain clinging tightly to his hand. She met his eye briefly, nodding to him and acknowledging his presence before smiling at Gwyn who waved back, glad she was unharmed.

Nesta and Emerie came over taking Gwyn from him. He fought back a snarl as he let her go, knowing her friends only wanted to help her and that Cassian needed his assistance. They filed out of the cave in groups, he and Cassian corralling out their prisoners, as the others followed.

Outside once more, he could see the light of flames in the distance and knew Eris had found his quarry. 

There was a crash and rumbling of stone behind them as Helion sealed up the cave. "Lucien and I can get the others back," he said, approaching, as though all the power he'd expened in those caves were nothing. He supposed to a High Lord, it was nothing.

Cassian nodded his head in thanks. "Take care of them." He exchanged a glance with his mate who nodded at him. Azriel glanced at Gwyn, not wanting to leave her, but she waved him off and the group of them disappeared.

"Well," Cassian said, eyeing the men before him with a vicious smile. "I don't think we need all five of you. What do you think, SpyMaster?"

Azriel slipped a cold mask over his face as he wordlessly slit the troat of two men while Cassin took another. The remaining two shuddered even as they tried to sneer at him. "Quite right, brother. Two are sufficient for questioning." Not to mention the practicality of returning them all back to Night. These men would not be going to Velaris with the rest of their group. Rhys had already instructed they be taken to the Hewn City's dungeons.

Cassian grabbed one of the males and took off into the air, Azriel followed his brother with the other. He caught up to Cassian, moving fast through the air as the male who dangled beneath him shrieked in terror. As soon as he caught up with the other two, his shadows surrounded them, taking him back to Night.

He dropped both men in seperate, dark cells deep under the mountain and retreated for the time being, needing time for both him and his shadows to recuperate before he began interrogating. 

Notes:

We're at the end of Part 1! There's one more chapter left this is more of an epilogue for part 1 and is exactly the same as A Court of Light Ch 12 which will set up the plot for Part 2. All will be posted today and then there will be a brief hiatus while I finish writing Part 2!

Chapter 16

Notes:

This chapter serves as an intermission epilogue

Rhys flicked a drop of blood off his cheek, watching his uncle who laughed manically, his mind having broken some time ago. Mor stood at his side, blood dripping from the blade in her hand, and expression hard as she watched her father.

"I think you might have gone just a little too far," he commented drily. His cousin only shrugged, unbothered. She still scared him sometimes. Morrigan was not typically prone to violence, but once you crossed a line with her... No one could help you.

It had been tedious work attempting to pull information from the ancient, cruel male. They'd managed to pull little bits from him, even with Rhys' magic. But the moment Rhys had rather smugly delivered the news that Beron had been defeated and only two of Keir's Darkbringers had made it back to the Court of Nightmares and were currently under the treatment of TruthTeller, Keir had begun laughing and hadn't stopped.

"Can I shut him up now?" Mor asked, spinning the blade in her hand.

"Another moment."

Keir's head suddenly snapped to them, his gaze clearing for a moment. Rhys stilled. "You think this is over?" Keir asked, his tone taunting. "This was only the beginning."

He resumed his unhinged laughter, a chill snaking down Rhys' spine. "Ok, now you can shut him up," he said. Mor plunged her blade through her father's throat without hesitation. The male gurgled, blood spilling from his mouth before he stilled, eyes vacant.

Amren had helped them track down Keir and was now upstairs terrifying his courtiers. He sighed. "I'll go deliver the news. I'm going to need a new interim steward down here. And a new commander for the Darkbringers.... once we've finished weeding them out."

Mor followed him to the door as they exited into the dank dungeons beneath the court. "What do you suppose he meant about it being 'just the beginning'?" she asked. "Was it just the ravings of a madman, do you think?"

"I don't think so." A dark figure peeled out of the shadows. Azriel slowly stalked towards them.

"Learn anything interesting, brother?" Rhysand asked, tucking his hands into his pockets.

His brother's eyes, scanned briefly over Mor, but with none of their usual interest. He was merely checking to see if she was alright. "Yes."

"And?"

"Beron wasn't the only one Keir was 'helping'."

Rhys fought to keep his breathing even. "What are we looking at?"

"Rebellion," Azriel said. "Full scale rebellion."

They all paused, absorbing that.

"There's been a price set on your head Rhys," Azriel said. "Your entire court is coming for you."

A shiver danced along his back. Massive wings sprouted from his shoulders and the shadows around them seemed to deepen with endless night as dark power shook the mountain. Rhys stalked back towards his court and it's band of sadistic assholes. "Let them."

---

End of Part 1

Notes:

There will be a brief hiatus as I finish up Part 2. I have a rough outline and have already begun writing so hopefully no more than 1-2 weeks!

Chapter 17: Part 2 - Chapter 1

Notes:

Tandem read: This chapter follows A Court of Light Ch 14

I warn you, this is a heavy one... 😢

Part 2

---

Azriel, Rhys and Mor had spent the last three days in the Hewn City questioning, interogating, and weeding out both Keir's Darkbringers and several prominent members of the court, looking for any others who may have aided Keir in his plans to overthrow the High Lord. Rhysand had been well aware that most of his court did not care for him, it was why he allowed them to mostly govern themselves, but none of them had expected the hatred to go quite as deep as it had with Keir.

Luckily, it seemed the male had at least been smart enough to keep his circle of trust small and the talk of rebellion hadn't spread far in the Hewn City yet. Apparently, Keir had expected to weaken Rhysand with the attempt on Elain, bringing about a conflict with Autumn, while also starting a fight on his Northern front with the Illyrians before painting a picture to the rest of the court that Rhysand was too concerned about personal matters to to properly lead. At which point, he intended to put himself forward as a replacement after staging a coup, claiming that his family's bloodline, who had once ruled before Rhysand's family, were the obvious choice.

It was still unclear what exactly he'd been planning with the Illyrians. The man was a crafty fucker and had kept most of those plans to himself and his two generals, both of which had been executed already, refusing to speak. Keir it seemed had also been working with a witch who allowed he and his men to keep certain aspects of their minds hidden even from Rhysand's power.

The moment he had tried to dig into those places, a spell had been triggered which currupted their memories and drove them mad. Putting them down had been as much a mercy as it was a punishment.

Once Rhysand and Azriel were both satisfied they'd learned all they could, and had made an example of the traitors that would hopefully deter any others who might be getting ideas, they returned to Velaris.

Azriel hadn't seen Gwyn for almost four days now, and though he was sure she'd been healed up after returning to the city, he was still anxious to see her for himself and check that she was ok. However, when he flew into the House, he found it entirely empty. No Cassian, no Nesta, no Emerie and no Gwyn. Mor, who had come with him, emerged from her room a few minutes later with a note saying the group had gone into the city for the night. 

As much as he wanted to see her, he knew he was not in the mood to be in public. He rarely was after an interrogation. His family knew he usually needed time alone to decompress and compartmentalize and that was still true now, though part of him longed for the kind of soothing he knew only she could offer.

He waved off Mor's halfhearted invitation to come with her. Unlike him, Mor liked to deal with stress by surrounding herself with people, drink and merriment. He wondered again how he'd ever imagined they were well suited. "You go. Have fun. I'll see them tomorrow." In actuality, he planned to have a very long bath and several stiff drinks while he waited in his room for Gwyn to return.

"I'll let her know you're back," Mor said with a knowing smile. He nodded gratefully and trudged back to his chambers.

The door shut behind him and he began droping his clothes on the ground as he made his way to the bathing room, already hearing the water filling the large stone tub. He silently thanked the House at the sight that greeted him there. Beside the tub was a bottle of his favorite whiskey and a crystal glass, along with a bowl of stew, a piece of still warm bread and some scented oils.

He poured the oil in the bath, quickly scarfing down the meal while the tub finished filling and poured himself a tall glass as he slipped into the water. He leaned back against the side, letting the warm, spicy taste of the alcohol burn down his throat and breathed in the smell of eucalyptus. It reminded him of Gwyn somehow as he closed his eyes, laying his head back against the lip of the tub and let his mind begin shoving all the things he didn't care to think about into neat little boxes, hiding them out of sight. 

It wasn't long until his mind brought forth an image to distract him, imagining Gwyn, naked and smiling in his lap as she washed his wings and hair, soothing all the ragged edges of his tarnished soul. He wanted her. Wanted to lose himself in her for hours. Days. But more than that he just wanted her presence. Wanted to see her smile and hear her voice. Wanted to feel her delicate fingers in his hair and her body against him until the beast inside of him was content.

He didn't realize he'd fallen asleep until he was awoken when one of his shadows nudged him, circling excitedly around his head. Gwyn was back. He didn't know how he knew it. He hadn't needed his shadows to tell him- not that they ever did- he could just feel it.

He quickly exited the tub, drying off. He didn't bother putting on a shirt, just pulled on a pair of leisure pants and went to her door. He frowned when he found it locked, unsure what or who she was trying to keep out when it was only her friends here. Until the awful thought crept into his mind that perhaps she intended to keep him out. 

Was she upset that he hadn't gone to see her with Mor? Or that she hadn't heard from him in days? That he'd left her to return back to Night with her friends and not sent a single word to her to ask how she was, or to tell her how he was?

He knocked softly on the door. "Gwyn?"

He heard the faint movement behind the thick wood pause. Had she not expected him to be awake? What time was it? His shadows whispered that it was almost three in the morning. He waited another moment and knocked again when he heard nothing. Had she already passed out? "Gwyn?"

Nothing. And then- "Go back to sleep, Azriel." Her voice sounded just on the other side of the door, startling him slightly. 

"Am I not allowed a goodnight kiss?" he joked, heart sinking when she said nothing. "Is something wrong?"

"Go back to sleep," she repeated, more softly. 

He frowned at the door. Even his shadows appeared unsure, pulsating quietly as they waited. Normally, he would've done as she said and waited to speak with her in the morning, but something in his gut told him he needed to do this now if he wanted an honest answer.

His shadows deposited him on the other side of the door, surprising her as she yelped and held a nightgown up to cover her body. He'd caught her in the middle of changing. "Sorry," he said, quickly turning his back. He heard the soft rustle of fabric as it settled over her skin. She was pulling on a robe as he turned back around, cinching it tightly as though hiding.

"Have I done something wrong?" His heart was pounding silently in his chest, his beast prowling restlessly. He'd been a spy long enough to know when to listen to his instincts and right now- her posture, her body language, the way she wouldn't meet his eye- it was all screaming that something was off, and he intended to find out what.

"Why didn't you want me to go?"

He blinked, nonplussed. "I'm sorry?"

She met his eyes then and he was taken aback at the fire in those blue depths. There was none of her usual warmth, not even the kind that shone when she was pissed off at him during training. The kind that told him she was about to hand him his ass, and he'd love every second of it. This was different. It was harsh, cold almost. Whatever was bothering her, it must have been simmeirng for the few days he'd been gone to get to this point because he'd never seen this before. Not from her.

"Under the Mountain. When we went to rescue Elain- why didn't you want me to go?"

He gaped at her. That's what she was upset about?

"You said nothing about Nesta going, had no problem with it, and didn't seem to have issue with Emerie either, but you looked right at me when you said no. Probably would have kept arguing had Rhys not overuled you. Why?" He snapped his mouth shut, unable to argue with that assertion. He had been about to argue more when Rhys pulled rank.

"Do you not think I'm capable? Is that it?"

All he could do was stare at her, stunned. "Wha- no. I mean, no that's not what- Of course I think you're capable. Hell, I half trained you myself. If I didn't think you were capable, that would be a poorer reflection on me than you." He stumbled through an explanation, hands gesturing uselessly between them. 

The fire in her eyes didn't abate. "Then why?"

"Why? I should think that was obvious?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, eyes narrowing. "It's not. So explain it to me."

"I-" his mouth opened and closed a few times, not because he didn't know, but because he wasn't sure how to articulate it. Her expression shuttered further as she moved around him for the door, clearly meaning to kick him out. 

"I was scared!" he admitted desperately. His instincts were still on high alert. This wasn't the only reason she was angry, he could tell, but he'd never get a chance to find out what else was wrong, wouldn't get any honesty from her if he didn't offer up some honesty of his own.

She paused, peering over her shoulder. "Scared of what?"

"That something would happen to you."

"But you weren't worried about anyone else?"

"Of course I was," he ran a hand through his hair, feeling anxious all of a sudden. "I was worried about all of them but you-" He tried to cut himself off but of course she wasn't going to let that slide.

"I what?"

"You are one of the most injury prone people I've ever met," he admitted, a bit frustrated at having to explain himself. Gwyn reared back, her body spinning around to face him again. "You are!" He cut her off before she could argue and began pacing, ticking off incidents on his fingers. "In training, at the bar, in the battle with Koschei, Under the Mountain," he said pointedly. "The Blood Rite."

"I survived, didn't I?" she threw back, sarcasm dripping from every word.

He growled in frustration. "Ramiel might have healed you as soon as you reached the top, but Nesta told me what happened out there. You almost died."

"I did not-"

"You were shot in the leg!" he whirled on her, frustrated she didn't seem to grasp the severity of it. "In your thigh- do you know there's a major artery there? You were bleeding for days. Could barely move by the end-"

"I was fine," she protested and he growled, annoyed at how easily she shrugged it off.

"You were not fine. If the Blood Rite's rules hadn't healed you after winning, you would have bleed out before anyone could get you to a healer!"

"You don't know that-"

"You took a knife to the gut on the continent-"

"It wasn't that deep-"

"It ruptured your spleen!"

"I was fine-"

"Because there was a healer on the field!" He was shouting now. "How can you-" He growled again, the ferocity surprisng even himself. Gwyn was not fazed. She stared him down, arms crossed, gaze leveled at him, thoroughly unimpressed with his reasoning. 

"And I was perfectly fine then just as I was after Under the Mountain, and as I will be the next time."

"You don't know that!" he practically roared. He stepped forward getting in her face. A voice in his mind said he needed to back off. Take a step back and calm down for a moment as this was escalating quickly. He well remembered how his father used to crowd his mother in similarly. Standng over her to purposefully intimidate as he berated her for this or that. 

He was not his father. Would not be.

And Gwyn was not his mother. She did not cower from him, but stood her ground, chin raised, glaring just as fiercly as he was. 

"I am almost five hundred and fifty years old. I have seen more combat that you can imagine. Seen all manner of injuries- and all manner of deaths." She flinched slightly, but didn't back down. "I have seen a seemingly harmless injury turn dangerous very fast. I have seen people die from injuries they didn't even know they had. I've seen my friends on the brink more than I care to admit. I saw Rhys die in the battle with Hybern. Saw Feyre bleed out giving birth. Saw Amren burn into nothing-" He swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut at all the memories that assaulted him.

He was not always the calmest person, he could admit that. He knew he had a temper, but he usually kept a tight leash on his emotions. This conversation though, was quickly unraveling him. He could feel his breath sawing through his chest, could hear the pounding of his heart, could almost taste the rage and grief and despair those moments made him relive.

He turned sharply, pacing away as he took a few deep breaths, reigning it all back in. When he felt calmer, he turned back to Gwyn who was watching him with a devastating expression. He was reminded then that, despite her young age, she too was acquainted with death. Had had it forced on her before she ever chose it. That calmed him further.

"Why don't you tell me why you're really mad?" he said much more evenly. "Because I know that's not the only reason you're angry with me and I think it's pretty reasonable to want to protect you."

Her expression shuttered once more as she squared her shoulders and he braced himself for whatever she'd say next. "You left me."

He sighed, his shoulders dropping exhaustedly. "I didn't have a choice. I had to question-"

"No," she cut him off. "Not then. Before. The night before we left."

He frowned, trying to think back. What had he done? He needn't have bothered as she reminded him a second later.

"You came in here," she pointed towards the bed. "Put me on my knees and used me. Then held me down while you tortured me, making me beg for release, and then left without so much as a look or explanation, like you wanted to punish me for daring to defy you." As she spoke, her tone turned colder and colder and he felt his heart sink into his stomach.

"That is not- no." Just no. That was not what he'd intended. And if it was how she felt, he would fix that. She didn't give him a chance however, hackles rising when she heard the word 'no', she suddenly seemed much larger and he wasn't too big to admit he was a little scared of her.

"You do not get to use sex as a weapon, Azriel. Especially not with me, that is not what I signed up for. I agreed to do this with you because I trusted you." He almost stumbled back a step, feeling like he'd been punched in the gut. But she wasn't finished. "If you're angry or upset about something- say so. Don't take it out on me. I don't mind you getting rough, I liked it even- and I don't need you to ask approval on every little thing but there are some things that should require a conversation. At the very least a safe word."

Azriel paled. His shadows. He'd had them bind her without asking. She hadn't protested, but that didn't matter. He still remembered how he found her that night in Sangravah. How those men had her pinned to the table so she couldn't escape... He should have asked.

"Don't," she warned, pointing furiously at him. "Don't do that. Don't pity me. I don't want that from you. From anyone. I'm not a porcelain doll. I would've told you if it bothered me, but you should've asked."

"I would've stopped-"

"I know you would. That's not the point. Communication, Azriel. I know you don't like to talk about things, you're the king of avoidance, but that won't fly with me. I won't tolerate it."

"I'm sorry." He was seconds away from falling to his knees and begging her forgivness when the anger in her eyes didn't ebb. She just shook her head, turning away from him.

Again, his instincts screamed as she seemed to close herself off, and panic swelled up, overriding his better sense. He'd never handled that particular emotion well. It usually led to anger- as many things did- and yet, he couldn't stop it.

"So, what now? Are you done with me? That's it? One mistake and it's over?"

He watched her shoulders rise and fall on a sigh. "I'm tired, I can't do this right now," she said quietly. "Just please go back to bed. We can talk tomorrow."

She pulled her hair over her shoulder to begin braiding it, but the movement sent a wave of her scent crashing into him and for the first time since he stepped in this room he noticed the other scents that mingled with her own. Musky, masculine scents. Scents that did not belong to himself or Cassian.

Whatever shred of control he still maintained on his panic snapped. The beast in his chest roared in fury. In envy. "Who is he?" His mouth moved before his rational mind could stop it. Gwyn froze.

"Excuse me?" she said, slowly turning back to him. Her expression was terrifyingly calm, warning him to tread carefully, but- naturally- he blazed right past it.

"The male you were with tonight. Or males I should say." He took another exagerated sniff, lip curling in disgust. Stop, stop, stop. Both his shadows and the voice in the back of his mind screamed at him, but he ignored them. 

"You do not own me, Azriel," she said softly. "It is none of your business who I was with, not that anything happened beyond a compliment and a smile. You do not dictate who I spend time with. Even yourself." Another warning. 

And another one he ignored.

Jealousy was an ugly thing. A living, breathing, monster in his chest to rival the beast that continued to roar and gnash, demanding he claim her. 

It was like he'd lost comtrol of himself entirely. Like he was watching from outside of himself as he stepped forward, crowding her again. Walking her backward until he had her caged against the bed. "Is that what you want then?" he snarled. "Are you ready to move on? Did I not satisfy you? Or perhaps you've just had your fill and are ready for a new flavor-"

He reeled back as her fist connected with his nose, the crack loud enough to be heard as blood poured down his face. He would've been proud at the efficiency of it had it not been used against him. 

Like deflating a balloon, all the ugly emotions inside him were swept away, leaving only dread as he stared at her, aghast, realizing what he'd just said. "Gwyn-"

"Get out," she whispered. Tears shone in her eyes but her face was stone cold. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean-" dejavu slammed into him, recalling how he'd said something similar not that long ago. This time, he knew, she would not forgive him so easily. 

"Get. Out." He'd never heard her use that tone before. A shiver ran down his spine and he swore he'd never felt so small. 

"Gwyn," his voice broke over her name. He could see it affected her in the way her eyes flickered and her lip trembled, but that didn't stop the inevitable.

"Get out."

The words were barely audible this time.

Behind him, he heard the door open with a soft woosh, the dismissal clear. He silently pleaded with her, even as he backed away, his eyes never leaving hers. His chest tightened painfully when she turned her back on him, pain lancing through his heart.

A few things became evident in that moment with startling clarity.

He'd more than fucked up.

There was every possibility she would not forgive him.

This might be the thing that broke their friendship- their trust- for good.

And- for perhaps the first time in his life- he was truly, fully, deeply... in love.

Notes:

Damn, I really hurt my own feelings with that one... not sorry 😂😭

Chapter 18: Part 2 - Chapter 2

Notes:

The punches just keep rolling....

Azriel was thoroughly miserable by the time he woke up the next morning. Not that he'd ever truly gone to bed. As soon as the door to Gwyn's room slammed in his face, the lock sliding shut again, he walked straight to the balcony, barefoot with no shirt on, ignoring the cold as he dropped off the edge, letting himself free-fall for a few moments before flaring his wings out and catching the wind. He flew until he couldn't feel anything anymore and swept right back through his open windows, collapsing on the bed. 

He spent the rest of the night staring at the wall between their rooms, trying- and failing- not to think about everything that had happened there.

By the time he sat down at the breakfast table, ignoring everyone else who threw questioning looks between him and Gwyn who was glaring coldly from the other end, his misery had turned to anger once more.

The result was that - after Gwyn completely ignored him throughout the first round of training that morning- he put the Valkyrie through their paces in conditioning. 

All of them were panting, red faced and sweaty after running strength and cardio drills for the last hour and a half. "Ten more laps," Az commanded, staring coldly at Gwyn who looked back at him impassively, fire glittering under the surface.

"Az," Cassian hissed, warning him he was being too harsh. 

He didn't much care.

"Oh, enough!" Nesta growled. She pointed a finger at Az. "You can't punish us just because you're fighting with your girlfriend. Leave that shit outside of the training room and deal with it in your own time. You two are the most melodramatic people I've ever met- and that includes Rhysand!"

Azriel bristled as Gwyn rolled her eyes. It was ironic that Nesta should be the one to tell him to leave his personal stuff at home, but she wasn't wrong. "Seven laps," he amended through gritted teeth.

"Five," Cassian said with a stern look. "Five and you're done for the day." None of them argued and Azriel glared at his brother as they took off, jogging around the ring. Once they were on the other side of the training room, his brother turned, shoving Azriel back into the hall beyond the entryway. 

"What the hell, Az?"

Azriel, not feeling like explaining himself again, tried to maneuver around him but Cassian was having none of it. 

"Mor told me what you all learned. If you're not ready to come back to this, then don't. If you need more time to process then take it, but don't take your anger out on them," he jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the Valkyrie who jogged by in a line. "If you want to work through it with your fists that fine too, we can go to the ring after they're gone, but either way, get your shit together."

Azriel glared. Cassian glared back. "Sparring," he grunted after a moment. Cassian nodded and headed back in the ring to monitor the girls and give his praises for their hard work before returning the Illyrians back to their camps while Azriel hid in the shadows, waiting until the room was empty.

Gwyn didn't even glance his way as she passed, though he knew she was aware of him and the shadows that tried to follow her, and it just pissed him off even more. After the revelation of the previous evening and the realization that it might all be for naught anyway because he was apparently incapable of controlling his emotions long enough to not fuck things up for himself, Azriel wasn't really sure how to process- well, anything.

By the time Cassian returned, Azriel was itching for a fight. He barely gave his brother time to recover from the flight to and from Illyria before he launched an attack. Cassian, however, was ready for it.

Unfortunately, before he could truly start to unleash any of that fury, Rhys landed on the roof looking uncharacteristicly ruffled. He dusted himself off and tucked his wings away, approaching them.

"Everything alright little brother?" Cassian teased.

Rhys didn't smile, putting both of them on alert. "What happened?"

He sighed heavily, glancing around to make sure they were alone. "Feyre found a note from Elain this morning. Apparently she decided to swan off to Day with Lucien without warning anyone."

"What?" cried Cassian and Azriel together. Rhys shrugged helplessly.

"My mate is caught between being furious with them and hoping this means they're finally moving forward."

"She went willingly?" Azriel asked, just to clarify. He didn't honestly think Lucien was the type to kidnap his mate, but he'd heard crazier stories about mated males whose mates denied or failed to acknowledge the bond.

Rhys nodded. "Seems that way. Still, she could've said something."

Cassian chuckled. "I don't blame her. You lot try way too hard to shelter her. If she'd told you, you'd probably try to convince her to stay here. Clearly she felt she needed to get away. Even if she wasn't with Lucien, Helion would make sure nothing happened to her. I'm sure she's fine."

Rhys glanced at Azriel who shrugged, half agreeing. Just a few months ago, he probably would've been one of the ones trying to convince her to stay. But he'd seen they way they'd been looking at each other lately. He could practically feel the shift in their relationship, abrupt though it may have been.

In any case, he had his own love troubles to worry about.

His brother sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm trying not to be offended by that, but you're probably right."

"Well, you didn't come just to tell us that," Cassian said, crossing his arms over his chest. "So why aren't you home comforting your mate?"

Rhysand sighed again, more frustrated this time. "Because she's worried about Nesta's reaction and ordered me to give her something to keep her busy for a few days so she doesn't go nuclear and bother them."

Cassian frowned. "What are you going to do? Order her to more training?" he quipped.

Rhys shot him a look. "No. I have a mission for her. For all three of the Valkyries actually." Azriel stilled, after their argument last night, the same panic he'd felt when Gwyn had insisted on going Under the Mountain with them crept back up. 

"You know there's more than just three now, right?" Cassian smirked.

"Yes," Rhys sounded exasperated, which was odd enough for him. Feyre must have been in quite a state that morning. "But can you tell me the rest are as ready for the field as those three?" Cassian shrugged. They weren't- not quite. But Azriel wished they were if for no other reason that to keep Gwyn here, safe, while they went on whatever mission Rhys had planned.

"What's happening?" Nesta asked behind them as the three females in question entered the training room again. Rhys must have summoned them while talking to him and Cassian.

"Your first official mission," Rhysand said. "If you choose to accept. You're not an official unit yet, so you can technically decline, but I think it's a good one to get your feet wet."

"What is it?" Emerie asked, standing at attention.

"Nothing particularly risky. I just need you to do some scouting.... in the Illyrian Steppes."

All three stiffened, Nesta's eyes glinting hungrily. She'd been thirsting for revenge on several of the warlords after the three of them had been kidnapped and forced to participate in the Blood Rite last year. They'd not only survived, but beaten the damn thing, only that didn't quite seem to be enough for Nesta. Cassian's eyes flared in response to her bloodlust.

The panic in his chest expanded until he was choking on it, the beast wakening, as his conversation with Gwyn the previous night came running back to his mind. She was so cavalier about her own safety, and whether she was angry with him or not, he couldn't stop worrying about her.

"No," Azriel snarled, cutting Rhys off as he started going into detail about what he wanted them to do.

Gwyn spun towards him, her anger rising quickly. "I didn't ask for your input."

"It's too dangerous-"

"It's a recon mission!" she shouted, throwing her hands in the air.

"The last mission you went on-"

"Was a fight-"

"-and you got hurt!"

"A minor injury which in no way impeded the outcome-"

"You got hurt during the Blood Rite and against Koschei, too!"

"And again, it did not change the outcome! I could just as easily get injured in the training ring- and I have!"

"That's not the same-"

"Why? Because you can control that situation?"

There were several sharp breaths. Everyone was watching them with wary faces, but neither seemed to notice anyone else was in the room as they stood inches apart, screaming at each other.

"That's not-"

"You don't own me, Azriel!" He bristled as she repeated her words from the night before. He could not abide the implication- that she even thought he believed that in any capacity. "You're not my employer, you don't pay my salary, Rhysand does. It's not up to you!"

"I'm the SpyMaster-"

"And I'm a Valkyrie! I'm not under your command. You clearly learned nothing!"

"This is-"

"What? Different? You're right, it's a simple mission. In and out, do not engage, no fighting. I'll be back in a few days."

"If I might interject-" Rhysand began but was cut off when Azriel's head whipped around toward him, snarling again.

"Don't," Gwyn warned, a dagger suddenly in her hand. On instinct, Azriel's hand shot out to grab her wrist, his blood singing the moment they touched. The first contact they'd had in days. The entire room froze.

Slowly, he turned his head to face her, the tip of the blade touching his throat. Gwyn leaned forward eyes blazing. Her voice was quiet, laced with fury and hurt, though he was sure everyone could hear her anyway. "If you deign to speak for me again, this will be the last time you ever touch me. Do you hear me?"

He froze, fighting the instict to flinch away like a wounded animal, though the beast in his chest howled. After last night, her words struck something sensitive in him that wanted to lash out at her in kind. Instead, he stared at her, studying her face as if he could determine how serious she was. She glared back, her beautiful face so full of fire, he was surprised he wasn't burned.

It was refreshing in a way, he supposed, that even after everything that had happened between them, she still treated him no differently. He respected her for that, for standing up for herself, but at the moment he still couldn't quite shove down his panic. The fear that had his mind picturing her the way Rhys and Feyre had looked at their death. The way he'd seen so many others at theirs.

Slowly, he released her wrist, but she kept the blade held to his throat. "Say it," she said through gritted teeth. "I want to hear you say you understand me perfectly."

His nostrils flared, his breath rushing out of him in a sharp exhale, wings rustling in agitation. "Fine."

"That was not quite the answer I was looking for," she said, carefully pulling back the dagger and resheathing it at her thigh. "And I could've done without the attitude. But I'll accept it for now."

His chest rumbled with a growl and he bared his teeth as she gave him a mocking smirk. "Good boy," she whispered, leaning in. She patted his cheek, which only served to irritate him more, then turned away from him, dismissing him entirely which made both him and his shadows bristle. Rhysand, who was watching the entire exchange with raised brows, smoothed his expression.

"You were saying, High Lord?" Gwyn's voice had lost all it's edge. Professional and polite. Azriel wanted to punch his brother.

"Perhaps we should continue this discussion somewhere more private?" he suggested. Another growl slipped out of Azriel, stopping abruptly as Gwyn glanced sharply at him. He pressed his lips together and looked away from her, catching Cassian's shocked expression.

The three Valkyries agreed and Rhys asked them to wait inside. Cassian, not so subtly stepped between Azriel and the doorway once they were gone. He was still on edge, his entire body tense, worse than before Rhys showed up. 

Rhys let out a low whistle. "I've never seen you back down from a fight like that."

He snarled at him and Rhys flicked his nose, startling him enough to deflate some of his aggression. 

"Oh, don't start," he rolled his eyes. "I'm not scared of you."

"Are you alright brother?" Cassian asked carefully.

"Fine."

"Is that the only word you're capable of saying, right now?" Rhys wondered, looking amused.

"Fuck you."

"So charming."

Cassian held up his hands, moving slightly between them, ever the peacekeeper. "Alright, calm down... Have you told her, yet?"

"Told her what?" Azriel snapped. He'd asked him that same question a week ago when they were sparring. Surely he wasn't asking if he'd told her he was in love with her. He'd only just figured that out himself.

"That you're-" Rhys's words trailed off, his gaze narrowing curiously. He huffed a laugh, voice disbelieving. "He doesn't even know. How ironic..."

Azriel's lip curled. He was not in the mood to play games with them and he refused to ask what they meant. He hated not knowing things, but more than that, he hated looking like a fool. Without a word, he brushed past Cassian, slamming into his shoulder as he stormed into the house towards his room, their earlier sparing forgotten.

Notes:

Tandem read: A Court of Light Ch 15

Chapter 19: Part 2 - Chapter 3

Notes:

Tandem read: This chapter follows A Court of Light Ch 16

Azriel had disappeared entirely by the time Rhysand finished explaining their mission to them. It really was just a simple recon mission. They were meant to be investigating claims about factions of rebels hiding in the Steppes outside of the war camps. They were instructed to scout for possible places they might be staying, but to keep their distance so as not to be detected and report back on their findings. How many factions, how many within those factions, the resources they had, etc.

Azriel didn't return for dinner and was not present at training the next morning. 

She might have been relieved if her heart wasn't also aching at being apart from him for so long. The argument they'd had the night he returned had been gut wrenching. She hadn't wanted to discuss at that moment as she was tired and she'd been drinking and was in a mood. She could tell though that he wasn't about to let it go so they had it out and it had been- painful.

The heartbreak she'd felt when he told her about seeing his friends dying or on the brink of death and how he hadn't wanted it to be her had been devestating. But it would not deter her from her course. She could sympathize with his fear as she felt it too every time he went on a mission or into a fight, but he couldn't dictate her life based on that fear. 

She didn't want to fight with him. Deep down, she knew he was probably beating himself up even more about it than she actually blamed him for, but she couldn't help but think it would do him good to have some consequences for the things he'd said and to hopefully put some things in perspective for him. So she'd go on this mission, be back in a week at most, and let him stew on it in the meantime.

So long as he wasn't still an asshole about when she returned, she knew she'd forgive him. She missed him too much to let him go just yet, no matter how much her heart rebelled at the idea of letting him go at all.

That evening, she, Nesta and Emerie met Mor near the stairs once again to prepare to winnow them out. She'd be dropping them off at a specified location in the Northern Steppes, using the dark for cover, before returning here.

After the fight Under the Mountain, Rhys had generously gifted them all many of the weapons they'd used in the fight and Cassian had supplied them with a few extras along with the necessary camping supplies they would need to stay under the radar. As she strapped on her pack and glanced around at her sisters, she knew this trip to Illyria would be very different than the last. 

For one, they were actually prepared this time and would not be waking up with no weapons and no clothes. That alone made any anxiety she had about returning disappear at least a little. And for another, they would be together the whole time and not fighting for their lives against a bunch of angry, misogynistic males to find each other.

"Alright, everyone ready?"

Mor was holding Emerie's hand, the two having become an official couple after Mor very publicly-and very dramaticly- kissed her friend at Rita's the other night. Nesta gave Cassian one last heated kiss while Gwyn glanced fruitlessly around, hoping to catch one last glimpse of Azriel before they left.

Both Mor and Cassian gave her sympathetic looks which she did her best to ignore, feeling like a child with a pathetic crush as she followed her sisters down the stairs to the edge of the wards. A moment later, they were in a dark forrest, surrounded by towering pines and the faint sounds of wildlife. They all were on alert, glancing around with weapons at the ready until they deemed it was all clear and Mor bid them goodbye and wished them luck before winnowing back home.

"Well," Emerie sighed, adjusting the straps of her pack. "Here goes nothing."

Together, they set off into the wilderness, keeping to the shadows.

"Let's hunt some rebels," Nesta whispered. Gwyn exchanged a look with Emerie, both of them shivering slightly at the glint of silver fire in her eyes and the razor sharp smile that curled her lips.

"We're in trouble," Emerie muttered.

---

Mor found Cassian and Azriel moping in the living room after they girls had gone, sprawled out on their asses on the floor. Azriel had returned just before they left, but had remained hidden on the balcony until he'd sensed they were gone, unable to handle watching Gwyn leave without being able to give her a proper goodbye.

Rather than teasing them, she placed three bottles of wine on the low table between them all and dropped to the ground next to Cassian. Without a word, she pulled the cork from one and brought it to her lips, not bothering with a glass.

Cassian and Azriel did the same.

"They'll be fine," she said. Azriel wasn't sure if she was reassuring them, or herself. He realized in that moment that he and Cassian weren't the only ones whose partners were on that mission. Her relationship with Emerie was just as fresh as his was with Gwyn- as horribly fucked up as it currently was, and he refused to believe it was over yet, not until she said the words. He could only imagine what she was thinking.

Cassian nodded, looking more confident than he probably was. "They're smart, strong and capable. They'll be fine." 

They were all being ridiculous, he knew. He was sure his friends were aware of it as well. They'd all three been on far more dangerous missions. Had fought in far bloodier battles. The girls had kept up with them in the last one, and the one before. They'd be fine.

Still, he couldn't help but worry. Even his shadows seemed melancholy.

Mor sighed, taking a large gulp of wine. "Why did I think it was a good idea to date another warrior?" she asked miserably.

Cassian smiled. "Because Emerie is an incredible female, and loves you just as you are."

"She really is." Mor nodded, smiling tearily as she leaned her head on Cass' shoulder. "I miss her already," she said.

"Me too babe," Cassian said, looping an arm around her. "I miss them all."

Azriel said nothing, just raised his bottle in salute before taking another swig.

After another moment of silent wallowing, a plate of desserts appeared on the table making them all chuckle. "Thank you, darling," Mor called to the House, plucking a chocolate from the tray.

Cassian agreed, taking a piece of cake. After a while- and another bottle of wine- they decided to distract themselves from thinking about their respective Valkyries and spent the rest of the night depleting the House's stash of wine, playing cards and telling amusing stories. 

At one point Cassian and Mor- neither of whom could carry a tune- began singing drunken bawdy songs and eventually coaxed Azriel to join them. As he sang, his shadows swelled and danced around him, eager for a bit of amusement to distract them from Gwyn's absence as well. 

---

Azriel woke with a start as someone kicked his shin. He sat up from where he'd lain on the ground, his head resting on Cassian's leg while his head was in Mor's lap. Looking up, he blinked blearily in the morning light, his head pounding as Rhys' face came into focus. 

"What the fuck?" His brother asked, gesturing around at the dozen or so bottles littering the floor.

Feyre stood beside him, looking amused. Rhys pointed at Cassian who was on the other side of the table and out of his reach. "Wake him."

Azriel rubbed his temples and shoved at Cassian's hip, knocking him into Mor who sat up with an indelicate snort, wiping drool from her mouth. Cassian just mumbled in his sleep and started snoring. Feyre covered her mouth with her hand while Rhysand narrowed his eyes on Cass. He suddenly bolted upright, knocking over a few bottles and smacking Mor in the face when his wings flared out. Azriel just managed to duck in time.

"Whoseitwhat?" he cried, looking around until his gaze settled on their High Lord and Lady. "Oh, sup Rhys?"

Feyre lost the battle with her laughter as Rhys shook his head. "What the hell is wrong with you three? Your partners go off on a very simple mission, and you have to poison yourselves?"

"Oh, please," Mor said, voice rasping as she crawled to her feet. "Don't act like you didn't do the same while Feyre was in Spring."

That sobered up the High Lady who squeezed her mate's hand.

Rhys just looked at Cassian. "I need you out at the camps today."

"What? Why? I was just there two weeks ago."

Rhys scowled. "Are you my general or not?" Cassian's brows shot up his forehead and Rhys sighed, pinching the space between his eyes as he muttered an apology. It was then Azriel realized he was just as nervous about sending the girls out as they were, despite all his talk about it being a simple mission. 

"I want to make sure they're looking at us and not the Steppes for the next few days. Let them sweat, thinking I've ordered another inspection if it keeps their focus and their anger on me and not the Valkyrie. I also want to make sure that if word does somehow get back to them about their presence in Illyria, that the Valkyrie who live there are not retaliated against.

Vera and Mya were both from Windhaven and would likely already be looking after each other, but Ondine was from another camp, farther north, and on her own. A male warrior who had met the Valkyrie in the Blood Rite had recommended she join them for training after hearing word about it and had been the one to bring her that first day.

"I also, want you to find Balthazar for me, and deliver a message."

That got all of their attention. "Why can't you write him?"

"Because he doesn't want it intercepted," Azriel guessed. Rhys nodded.

"Yes. It's nothing particularly sensitive, but I don't want him to face any backlash for communicating with me just yet if it can be avoided. We don't know how deep the rebellion is already rooted in his camp."

"What do you plan to do with him?" Mor asked curiously. They'd all heard about how the male had helped hide Nesta and an injured Emerie during the Blood Rite rather than trying to take them out like most of the other males had done. Rhysand had asked Azriel to look into him afterward and he'd mostly forgotten about him after giving Rhysand the report, but he knew he'd been keeping an eye on him since, likely determining if he was trustworthy enough to work with. It seemed he'd made his decision.

"He's interested in chanigng the Illyrian culture and has all the makings of a diplomat as far as I can tell. I mean to start training him."

"You intend to replace Lucien."

"Eventually," he agreed. "Lucien is an excellent emissary and it would be hard to find anyone with his connections or experience but I'm fairly confident he won't be returning to Night in any permanent capacity now that Helion has found his heir. Balthazar, with time, could be just as effective."

Azriel was still a bit shocked at the knowledge that Helion had a child. One that had been right under everyone's noses for centuries. He was embarrassed, frankly, that he hadn't put it together sooner, though he supposed with as rarely as he saw the male before, and how much he resembled the Autumn fae, it wasn't entirely surprising. 

"You don't think the other courts would have a problem working with an Illyrian?" Cassian asked.

Rhys shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Beron and Tamlin were the only ones who ever really had a problem with them. Now, Beron is gone and Tamlin is- Tamlin. Eris shouldn't have any trouble working with him as he doesn't seem to have any trouble working with you two, and doesn't have centuries worth of history with him. I'd be more worried about him running circles around the poor male with all his scheming, but he'll learn in time."

Cassian yawned and stretched. "Fine with me. I'll change and eat, then head out."

"What about us?" Mor asked. "If I have to sit in this House while I wait for them to return-"

"Oh no, dear cousin. You're going back to the Hewn City." Mor cringed. "You are still in charge of running my crourt, I'll remind you. And we need to find a new stewart. I trust your judgment to choose someone appropriate."

"Very well," she sighed and slunk off to her room.

"And me?" Azriel asked.

"You still have spies to manage," Rhys reminded him. "And I think the priestesses would appreciate continuing to train even if the Valkyrie are not here. Feyre and I can join you if you need help."

"Fine."

---

The first day of their mission was entirely uneventful. They combed through the forrest under the cover of the long winter night and found a secure place to sleep once the sun came up. They'd been packed a provision of food and water so they wouldn't have to risk hunting or building a fire, and had huddled together to keep warm under their heavy blankets to ward off the cold and snow during the day, rotating watch.

The second day, they'd found evidence of a prior campsite that had been used within the last few weeks and carefully fanned out attempting to track where they'd gone from there. It wasn't as difficult as they expected to track the movements of a race that could fly, likely because they hadn't wanted to risk being seen in the skies for extended periods. They'd followed the path northeast towards the Northern seas before making camp again.

 

Gwyn launched upright, blinking in the setting sun when she heard Nesta scream. She scented blood on the wind but before she or Emerie could react, they were set upon by a group of four males. Two knocked out Emerie with a vicious strike to the head and began binding her wings while the others took hold of Gwyn before she could grab the dagger still strapped to her thigh and wet cloth was pressed against her face. 

Memories of the last time she'd been in this position flooded to the surface as she began thrashing but, just like last time, it didn't take long for the drug to take effect, and darkness swallowed her whole.

Notes:

Tandem Read: A Court of Light Ch 17

Chapter 20: Part 2 - Chapter 4

Notes:

Tandem read: This chapter follows A Court of Light Ch 17

⚠️TRIGGER WARNINGS: blood; PTSD; flashbacks; implied sexual assault⚠️

Azriel had gone to the River House the second day of the girl's mission, after he finished training, to distract himself from thinking about Gwyn by visiting his ever growing nephew. Nyx would be one year old in just a few months and it was hard to believe it had already been that long.

Feyre smiled when he walked in the door, carrying Nyx down the stairs on her hip. "I was wondering when you'd show up. Here for a baby fix?"

His lips quirked slightly. "Maybe."

She grinned. "Well, come on then. He just woke up from nap, once he gets something to eat, he'll be full of energy and I'm sure he'd love to play with Uncle Azriel."

He followed her to the dining room, watching as she settled the boy into a high chair and coaxed him into eating by making silly faces and noises. His blue eyes, already brimming with cleverness and mischief to rival his father, watched her skeptically as she mimed a flying bird with the spoon, wondering why he was meant to swallow said bird, but obediently ate every bite.

"That's my good boy," Feyre cooed as she cleaned up Nyx's face when he was finished while the little lordling grinned proudly, pleased with his mother's praise. Azriel couldn't help a small smile.

As Feyre handed him off to Azriel, he was suddenly struck with a vision of a little boy with Azriel's dark hair, tanned skin covered in freckles and Gwyn's bright teal eyes. He felt a brief moment of panic as he wondered if she might face the same complications as Feyre in carrying a winged baby before reminding himself he was getting way too far ahead. As it currently stood, it was questionable if he and Gwyn were even still friends, let alone if children might one day be a possibility.

He blinked back to reality to find matching pairs of blue eyes watching him curiously. "Are you alright?" Feyre asked and he wondered how much of his thoughts had been easily readable just now. 

"Fine," he said, clearing his throat and gatheirng Nyx in his arms, standing. "Why don't we check on Aunt Elain's gardens for her while she's gone?" he asked the little boy who smiled though Azriel was sure he had no idea what he'd just said.

"That's a great idea," Feyre agreed, following them out the door and casting a bubble of warm air around them.

Elain had only been gone for a few days but there already seemed to be a change. The plants all still looked healthy and well, but they also seemed to lack a certain vitality that Azriel was convinced came from some sort of fertility magic Elain may not even have been aware of.

"The twins have been checking on the garden and greenhouse every morning," Feyre explained. "But I'm not sure what we're going to do if Elain decides to stay in Day. She spent a lot of time out here and we don't know anyone quite as gifted to keep the plants and flowers as beautifully as she does."

"Perhaps there are lower maintenance plants that can be substituted for the more labor intensive ones."

"Perhaps."

They wandered around the greenhouse for a while, letting Nyx admire all the colorful flowers before heading back inside. They'd barely stepped into the house when a sudden quiet stillness filled Azriel. He paused to examine the feeling, unsure why the sensation seemed to be coupled with a sense of dread.

"Azriel?" Feyre frowned, taking Nyx from his arms when he began to fuss. 

Again his instincts were telling him something and he chose to listen this time. "Reach out to Cassian," he said quietly.

Feyre froze. "Why?"

"Call it a hunch..."

Feyre nodded slowly, eyes going distant as she reached out. Almost immediately her face went slack, the color draining away, putting Azriel on edge. He barely kept a leash on his patience while he waited, all the while that stillness inside of him felt like it was hollowing him out.

Rhys appeared out of thin air, and Azriel knew by the look on his face what had happened before he opened his mouth. "They were attacked just before sunset. Nesta managed to let Cassian know what was happening before the bond went silent... he can't feel her."

Feyre flinched, clutching Nyx to her chest as Azriel cursed violently, launching himself at Rhys. Rhys didn't fight him as he pinned him to the wall by his throat and snarled in his face. "I told you."

"It could've happened to anyone I sent," Rhys reasoned, wheezing slightly.

"But we knew the Illyrians hated them specifically for ruining their precious traditions. You put a target on their back the minute they landed there."

Rhys' face tightened and he knew his brother was feeling wretched. Logically, he knew Rhys was right. Anyone they sent in would have been in equal danger. The rebels were likely on high alert, probably sending out the occassional scouting party to hunt down spies. They had to know Rhysand and Azriel would be attempting to watch them. But he was too angry and too scared to care right now.

He had to find her.

"Where are they?"

"They've been traveling for two days, I don't know where specifically." Azriel slammed him into the wall again. Behind him, he could hear Nyx starting to cry.

"Where did Mor leave them?"

Rhys held up his hands placatingly, but still didn't try to fight him. "Cassian's already tracking-"

"Where?"

Rhys told him the drop point. "I'll direct Cass-"

Whatever else his brother said was lost as Azriel winnowed to the spot near the edge of the Steppes Rhys had mentioned. Azriel scanned the area, looking for any indication of what direction they might have gone. Just as he spotted what might have been some faded tracks, movement overhead caught his attention.

Azriel shot into the air, chasing after his brother. Cassian barely looked his way as he flew beside him, just continued on, eyes focused on some point in the distance with single minded purpose. 

"You know where they are?" he shouted over the wind rushing past them.

Cassian tapped his chest. "I know where they were last. Nes was checking in when they found her. I'll track them from there."

They said nothing else as Azriel followed Cassian through the air for the next few hours. Eventually they landed in a small clearing. The first thing Azriel noticed as Cassian began snarling was the scent of Nesta... and blood.

Cassian stalked toward a copse of trees like a hound scenting its prey, where they found evidence of a fight. Displaced dirt and leaves, a broken branch, a large crack in the trunk of a tree. Nesta had put up a hell of a fight, but Azriel could detect the scent of several males. She'd been outnumbered.

While Cassian worked to control his own fear and fury, Azriel's urged him to search for signs of the others. His shadows fanned out without his giving the command and it wasn't long until they converged near a downed tree. On the other side, between the fallen tree and the base of another, there was a large hollow where Gwyn's scent lingered- tinged with the smell of fear.

Inside the hollow, the girl's blankets were still scattered, the contents of their packs strewn across the forrest floor. Their weapons were notably absent, and he knew that whoever had taken them hadn't been stupid enough to leave them armed, but no Illyrian worth his salt left behind useable weapons. He shuddered at the thought of any of those bastards with Nesta's cauldron forged death blade. He could only hope that they would all be too superstitious to use it after sensing the magic that radiated off of it.

Cassian appeared beside him, his anger barely leashed. Azriel's fear had shifted to cold rage that simmered below the surface as he counted the number of different scents around them and tried not to think about the night he'd first found Gwyn. He would not allow her to suffer that again. The very idea made him want to burn the world down.

"What's nearby?" he asked with a terrifying calm. "Where would they take them?"

Cassian breathed deeply, glancing around to get his bearings before pointing just west. "Caves. That way."

Azriel's shadows shot off ahead of them to scout as they set off in the direction of the caves, without a word, steps silent as they stalked their prey. They paused once the cave was in sight, far enough away to not be detected and studied the area. The entrance was guarded by four males, at least two of whom looked untested. Easy enough. His shadows returned, melding around them as they whispered their observations and Azriel relayed them to Cassian. 

There were seven more males inside the cave. One stood watch over Emerie, who was unconscious, head bleeding and wings bound. Two more held back a snarling, injured Nesta who's broken leg had been crudely splinted. And four more surrounded Gwyn- who was on her knees with her hands bound and a knife at her throat.

Normally, a group this size wouldn't be much issue for either of them, but with the girls all injured or restrained, and in an enclosed space, they'd have to be strategic. His shadows writhed around them as he quickly put together the beginnings of a plan.

"We start with them... silently if possible, but noise might draw the others out."

"It could also spook them into hurting the girls," Cassian hissed angrily.

Azriel grinned as he twitched his fingers and his shadows shot off to gleefully do his bidding. "Then we better be silent."

They watched as the shadows crept over the ground, hidden by the dark of night and slithered unnoticed up the bodies of all four males before shoving inside their nose and mouths, effectively gagging them. As they began to panic, Azriel winnowed him and his brother in front of them, grinning wickedly at the sheer terror on their faces while they quickly dispatched them.

From the mouth of the cave, the deep voices and dark chuckles of the other males echoed out as they taunted Gwyn, mixed with Nesta's furious grunts and muffled curses. Cassian lurched forward as a loud crack sounded and he guessed one of the males must've backhanded her to shut her up, but her snarls continued uninterrupted. His shadows hissed viciously, coiling around him like they were prepared to strike and he realized who'd actually been hit. 

As they crept closer, the male's words became clearer. "Now, girly," one purred. "Tell us what we want to know about your precious High Lord and his bastard brothers and I'll let you go.... after we have a bit of fun."

Cassian held him back as he tried to charge in, his angry growls lost in the low laughter of the other males. "Easy," he hissed. "Don't get her killed."

Azriel's entire being trembled furiously but he nodded, forcing himself to move carefully. He couldn't hear Gwyn say anything in response- though he could've sworn he heard Nesta mutter something that sounded like 'eat a dick' that had Cassian swallowing a smile. He could imagine Gwyn sitting there, with her infuriatingly passive expression, staring them down the way she had him so many times before- at least that's what he chose to believe was happening because he couldn't stand to picture, his beautiful, brave girl cowering in fear. 

He almost felt sorry for them.

Then, he heard the male spew such hateful words, the world went still and silent for a moment as Azriel's rage prepared to explode. "Still not talking? Maybe this will loosen your tongue... open that pretty whore mouth and let me show you how its done."

The last thing Azriel heard as he pushed past Cassian, slamming him into the wall of the cave, was Nesta's ferocious scream. He rounded the corner into the cave in time to see Gwyn's expression morph from cold and calm to fierce, letting out a battle cry as she lunged forward, quite literally catching the man before her with his pants down as they toppled to the ground and the entire space exploded into action.

Emerie's eyes snapped open, feet lashing out to scissor kick the male standing above her, cutting him off at the knees. She swiped the blade from his hand as he move to brace his fall and one vicious kick to the head knocked him out before she moved to help Nesta who was somehow managing to fight on a broken leg. She was fueled by pure rage as she used whatever part of her body was most convenient to pummel the males beside her. Emerie took one while she handled the other, a quick spin and swipe of the blade in her hand, freeing Nesta's bindings. 

Across the room, Gwyn moved faster and harder than he'd ever seen her before. Her movements were graceful and carefully calculated, each hit packed with power. She too had manged to slip her bindings and they hung loosely around her wrists as she caught one males arm, trapping it against her chest before ripping it harshly away from his body. The pop as it slid out of socket was drowned out by his screams as her sister's joined in the fight and within moments, all seven males lie moaning or unconscious on the ground.

Azriel wasn't sure when he'd stopped moving, but he'd been frozen to the spot the entire time, his rage forgotten as both he and Cassian watched the Valkyrie take on grown males who outnumbered them two to one in a matter of minutes.

Azriel gaped as Cassian began laughing like a maniac. Nesta and Emerie snapped their heads in their direction, a dagger flying at them before they registered who they were. Nesta all but slumped to the ground in relief and Cassian hurried forward to catch her. Emerie braced a hand on the cave wall, eyes squeezing shut as she clutched her head. The wound at her temple was still bleeding and he was sure she felt rather dizzy. 

It took another moment to realize Gwyn was still on the ground, trapped under the body of a large male, who lay prone over her. "Gwyn?" Azriel surged forward to help her, eyes scanning her face frantically.

"Get him off," she panted, eyes wild and face pale with terror. His stomach threatened to empty itself. He knew that look. He'd seen it on many soldiers. He also knew her mind wasn't fully present- it was back on that table in Sangravagh.

"Get him off!" she shrieked, shoving at the male's unmoving chest. "OFF! Off, off, off! Oh, gods, no."

Her whimper cut through him and Azriel practically tossed the male across the room as he knelt over her, heart shredding with each scream and sob that left her shaking chest. He clutched her face in his hands, ignoring the nails that scratched at his neck and face as he tried to call her back from her panic.

"Gwyn! Gwyn- look at me. I'm right here, dove. You're safe." 

She didn't hear him, her body thrashing wildly beneath him as her fist beat at his chest and boxed his ears hard enough to make them ring. He gave her a slight shake, fighting back his own tears as she stared at him unseeing, tears covering her beautiful face pinched in fear. The acrid smell of it burned his nostrils.

"Gwyn, please! I need you to hear me. You're not there. You're in Illyria. No one's hurting you." Her screams peirced his heart as he too was thrown back to that night. 

 

She fell silent as soon as their eyes met. Brilliant, piercing blue, wide and fearful and full of pain, over tear stained cheeks covered in freckles. Blood splattered her face and chest, matting sections of her coppery hair. It soaked the floor, surrounding the bodies of the dead preiestesses at her feet. It coated her bare thighs...

Rage like he'd never known swept through him as red tinted his vision and before he knew was he was doing, every male in the room was dead. Morrigan was staring at him, splattered with gore and wide eyed with shock. It wasn't that she'd never seen this side of him before, but he usually had more control. Usually left at least one person behind to question.  

He'd left none.

His eyes moved back to the priestess still lying unmoving on the table. Her body was trembling beneath her torn robes and more blood covered her than before, but she didn't flinch as he stepped toward her, gently laying his cloak over her body. Those big, teal eyes just stared at him, her lips pale and wobbling but silent.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said quietly, keeping his hands where she could see them. "You're safe. It's over." 

She inhaled a shaky breath, her head nodding almost imperceptibly. Moving slowly to see if she would spook, he carefully picked her up and turned to face Mor who was waiting with her arms open. 

"I've got her," she said, carefully taking her from him. His shadows coiled around her protectively, only reluctantly returning to him when he called them back. She didn't seem to notice them, her eyes still on his face as Mor carried her through the bloody, reeking kitchen.

He didn't realize he was staring until they disappeared, his heart lurching slightly as he lost sight of her. Those eyes , he knew,  would haunt him for days...

 

Nails raked over his face, just missing his eye, and calling him back to the present. He could feel the others hovering worriedly, but he couldn't think about them, he needed to snap her out of it.

Her screams died as he genlty squeezed her face in his hands, forcing her eyes to his, even as they saw right through him. "Mo chridhe," he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers. "Please hear me. I need you to see me. You're safe. No one's hurting you. Not anymore. You're safe."

Her trembling hands clutched the front of his leathers, eyes blinking as they slowly focused on his face. "There you are," he breathed. "You're alright. Yes?"

"Y-yes."

He nodded, brushing her hair out of her face in soothing strokes as her shaking gradually lessened and her tears slowed. Her eyes stayed on him just as they had that night while he continued to croon little encouraging words, bringing her back to the present. 

Gwyn flinched, head jerking to the side as the crunch of bone and a pained groan sounded across the room. He followed her gaze, finding Emerie standing over a male whose nose appeared to have been crushed under her boot. She and Cassian had gotten to work, probably the moment they realized Gwyn was pulling out of her nightmare, and began binding the males who were slowly waking up.

Pounding feet sounded at the cave's entrance as Rhys and Mor sprinted inside. Cassian must have told them where they were. Mor went straight to Emerie, gently touching the gash on the side of her head that seemed to have finally stopped bleeding. Rhys stood in the middle of the room, dark eyes assessing. 

"Why aren't they healing?" Mor asked, glancing between the three Valkyrie. 

Azriel hadn't had a chance to check Gwyn for injuries, too focused on pulling her from the memories that had terrorized her. He didn't want to pull away from her, even to be sure she was alright. She hadn't let him this close to her in a week and he was desperate for any sort of connection, but he scanned her face for any sign of discomfort and couldn't detect any of her own blood on her besides that which had dried on her chin from a split lip and swelling nose. He'd kill the one that hit her.

She seemed to realize what he was doing and nodded, reassuring him she was fine. Reluctantly, he moved from where he hovered over her and pulled her to her feet.

"Faebane, if I had to guess," Rhys said, his voice deceptively calm as he stared down the males around them. To their credit, they didn't back down from sneering at him in disgust though Azriel could clearly smell the fear on more than one of them. He doubted any had ever been this close to Death Incarnate before. 

"Another little gift from Beron- and Keir. Isn't that right?" he crooned to the male nearest him who pissed his pants at the smile Rhys gave him.

"I'm getting real sick of this shit," Mor muttered. 

Rhys waved a hand, dismissing them. Cassian wasted no time taking the now unconscious Nesta out of the cave and Mor lead Emerie out with an arm around her waist. Before Azriel could follow with Gwyn, Rhys called out in his mind.

I need your assistance, Shadowsinger.

He paused, glaring at Rhys over his shoulder, still clinging to Gwyn's hand. Rhys gave him a look that told him not to argue, especially in front of the rebels and with an irritated sigh, he turned back to Gwyn, tugging her close. 

"Go with Mor," he murmmered, cradling the back of her head and kissing her forehead. "I'll be back soon."

She nodded mutely and turned to go. He kept his fingers tangled with hers until the last second, reluctantly letting her go. He hated the idea of giving her more time to ruminate on the last few days alone when they still had not come to any resolution, but he had little choice.

He slipped Truthteller out of it's sheath, turning back to Rhys who was casually rolling up his sleeves. Darkness unfurled around his feet, spreading out slowly along the floor of the cave as the Illyrians scrambled away from him. The High Lord smiled. "Let's begin."

Notes:

There will be another brief hiatus as I'm checking out this weekend and still have some more writing to do, but I do plan to update again by next weekend ✌🏼

Tandem read: A Court of Light Ch 18

Chapter 21: Part 2 - Chapter 5

Notes:

Tandem read: This chapter follows A Court of Light Ch 19

A little more feels and then some spice 🌶

Despite being perfectly healthy, Gwyn didn't go to training the next morning. She barely got out of bed at all, and certainly didn't bother leaving her room. The only reason she'd been able to sleep after returning from Illyria was sheer exhaustion, but in the light of day, her mind kept playing the same memories that had haunted her the day before, over and over again on a never-ending reel. 

She didn't bother trying to distract herself from it, no matter how much the House tried to cheer her up by sending her things to amuse her. She was surrounded by a mountain of books and stuffed animals as she lay curled up in the middle of the bed, just as she'd been for the last several hours. 

Silent tears ran down her cheeks and she didn't bother wiping them away as she allowed herself to feel it all. Every ounce of pain, fear, grief and horror. It had been a while since she'd indulged in such feelings. She knew it wasn't healthy just as much as she knew it was a natural part of the healing process. She would eventually move past it and be fine for a time until something set her off again and the cycle would start over. The brightest light in the miserable grey that surrounded her currently, was that she also knew it would get easier every time. 

At some point, Nesta and Emerie joined her. Neither said a word, just silently cleared space on the bed and slipped in on either side of her, holding Gwyn between them until she'd cried herself to sleep.

---

The next morning, the boulder of guilt and grief that had weighed her down the day before seemed to have abated somewhat and she forced herself out of bed and into the shower. She'd done this routine more than once over the last three years; she knew that sticking to her usual routine was the best thing for her. Finding both an outlet and a distraction from her pain until she had a moment to akcnowledge it properly. Perhaps she'd ask the girls to join her for a mind stilling session after training that morning.

She dressed in her leathers, tying her hair back in a simple ponytail, not having the capacity for much else. She made her way to the dining room for breakfast all the same, even though she had little appitite. She needed to eat something. She hadn't had anything yesterday, and barely managed a few sips of water when her tears began to dehydrate her. 

Everyone greeted her kindly with soft, sympathetic expressions that she hated. She didn't want anyone's pity, though she knew deep down that's not what it was. In some way or other, every person at that table had experience with loss. They knew something of pain and guilt and suffering. They didn't offer her sympathy because they felt badly for her, but because they understood. She knew that.

Azriel sat on the other end of the table, watching her carefully. She'd heard him return yesterday afternoon. Felt him as he stood on the otherside of her door, knew he could scent her sisters there with her as he debated whether to come in anyways or not. Part of her was grateful that he hadn't. Even though he'd been the one to pull her out of her waking nightmare, she was still feeling too raw.

At yet, there was still another part of her that had cried out for him, had been doing so since the moment he'd left her room the night before she left. 

She kept her eyes on her plate, eating a few bites of fruit and toast but mostly just pushing her food around while she waited for the others to finish. She could tell Cassian wanted to say something about her not eating enough, but bit his tongue. She woodenly got to her feet when they began moving towards the stairs to the training room, her plate still half full. Cassian stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.

"You don't have to force yourself to come back yet, Gwyn. If you need more time, take it."

She gave him a small smile- or tried to, she wasn't entirely sure she'd succeeded. "Thank you Cassian. But, I promise, this is what I need. Not another day spent in solitude. I- I don't do well on my own. Not for long periods of time anyway. It just makes me to hide myself away further."

Cassian nodded, his expression morphing back into the General's. "Then stop dilly-dallying, Berdara."

This time, she knew, her smile was genuine as she gave him a salute and jogged lightly up the stairs. "Aye, sir."

She didn't quite give as much effort as usual in training that morning, though no one commented on it, but she pushed through, the exercise already beginning to make her feel better. Every minute spent with her friends made that weight on her chest a little lighter until it was almost gone and she knew she'd already passed the worst of this episode. She'd be back to herself in no time.

Azriel stood sentinel by the door, watching the three of them finally drift out of the training room. He said nothing, didn't move, but she felt his eyes on her as he passed, reaching out her fingers in the barest brush against his own. Not quite an invitation, but a message all the same. She heard his breath hitch when they made contact, felt his fingers chase hers as she pulled away again and continued on.

---

Azriel was near crawling out of his skin as he paced in his room- paced while he should have been sleeping. Again.

One of his shadows had been trailing Gwyn all day ever since that slight touch she'd allowed in the training ring, keeping an eye on her. They still didn't give him much information beyond assuring him she was alright, but that she had locked her door again. 

He didn't take it personally. He knew it was exactly why she'd allowed that touch. To let him know she was open to speaking to him again- she just needed a little more time. He could give her that, even if it drove him out of his mind.

Now that he had fully acknowledged his feelings for her, something in him demanded she acknowledge it too. He wouldn't force it on her, though. He didn't even know what her own feelings were. He didn't dare speculate on it either. He would make no more assumptions and let her tell him and if, by some miracle, she was willing to forgive him and wanted him in return, he'd move heaven and earth to make up for every stupid thing he'd said or done.

 

Gwyn looked much better the next morning. Still not quite fully back to herself, but certainly less robotic than before. She smiled, she made small talk... she ate. His stomach had churned uncomfortably the morning before as he watched her pick at her breakfast, only taking a few bites that were not enough to fill her. She'd been better as dinner, but not by much. Now, she seemed nearly back to her usual appetite, which eased his worry considerably.

All throughout training, he'd seen her stealing glances his way. The invitation in them was clear this time and he felt his body relax, letting go of some of the tension he'd been carrying around for days. Once again, she brushed against him as she left, the ends of her hair swishing in his direction, sending a waft of her scent to him. 

He turned to follow, staying several steps behind until the girls had gone their separate ways and he followed her into her room- where she'd left the door unlocked.

---

He found Gwyn in the bathing room, stepping through the door as she shed the last of her clothes and walked into the shower. A waterfall poured from a crevice in the stone wall, quickly filling the room with steam. Her head turned slightly, not quite looking at him but acknowledging his presence. 

He watched her for a moment, entranced by the way the water sluiced over her body and darkened her hair before shedding his own clothes. He slipped into the shower behind her, stepping close until they were only inches apart as his wings curled around them both. She didn't turn but didn't pull away as his head leaned close enough to nearly brush his lips over her ear. 

"Are you done being angry with me?" he asked, eyes falling closed as he inhaled her scent, enhanced from the steam of the water.

"Are you done being an arrogant ass?" she sniped back and he nearly smiled, glad to hear something in her voice besides the coldness he'd heard when they'd last spoken.

He dropped his head, leaning into the crook of her neck. She shivered even as she tilted her head away, not yet letting him touch her. "I'm afraid that's an affliction I may never be cured of," he lamented quietly.

Her lips twitched as she turned to face him, still keeping that small distance between them. Those teal eyes bored into his and the force of it hit him square in the chest. They were cautious, guarded, but all the righteous ire that had been there the last time they'd spoken was gone. He could work with that.

"I still haven't heard an apology."

"I'm sorry."

"For?"

"For doubting you- rather, for making you believe I doubted you. I'm sorry for letting my fear make a possessive, controlling idiot. I'm sorry for leaving you when you needed me."

Her full lips pursed slightly, not saying anything at first. He tucked his wings behind him, making himself smaller even as his shadows hovered over his shoulders, watching them closely.

"What do you want from me, Gwyn? What do you need to forgive me?" he asked, holding her gaze. "You want me on my knees, humbled and prostrate? I'll get on my fucking knees. I'll beg, I'll plead, I'll take whatever punishment you feel I deserve."

Her eyes softened, her hand reaching for him. He leaned into her touch, letting her see just how much he meant every word. "I'll do whatever you need because I've decided I don't really care what you intended this to be anymore-" he laid a finger over her lips when she started to frown, curling his fingers around the back of her neck and pulling her closer until their foreheads touched. "I've spent ten days without you, and I know now I can't endure another."

She stilled, shining eyes studying him. "What are you saying?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper as steam continued to fill the room around them until he could almost forget anything existed outside of this bubble they were in.

"I'm saying I want you. All of you. For however long you'll have me... I'm yours."

Her breath hitched and he watched her lip tremble and her throat work as she swallowed back whatever emotion she was feeling. That guarded look in her eyes had softened but hadn't yet disappeared entirely. "You want me?"

"Desperately," he confessed, tilting his head slightly, noses brushing. "Hopelessly. Madly."

A wet laugh huffed past her lips. Still she kept him in suspense a bit longer. "And what if you find your mate?"

"I don't care," he said, surprised to find he meant it. He tightened his grip on her and repeated the words. "I don't care. I didn't mean for this to happen, but I should've known the moment you kissed me the first time- before that even. You were always mine, and I yours, mo chridhe. My heart- whatever's left of it- is in your beautiful hands. For as long as you want it."

Tears slid down her cheeks and he could feel them building in his own eyes, closing them against the burn. "Just say you want it," he begged.

He heard a soft sob as her hands moved to cradle his face. "I do," she breathed against his lips. "I want it all."

Only then did he let his tears fall as he pulled her against him, kissing her hard. She responded in kind, both of them clinging to each other like a lifeline until he had her back pressed against the wall, his kiss slowing. "It's yours." He moved slowly down the column of her throat. "All of it."  His lips moved over her heart and between her breasts, working lower until he was on his knees before her. "Forever," he vowed.

"What are you doing?" she asked, gripping his shoulders as though to pull him back up.

He smirked, raising one of her legs, and laying it over his shoulder. "I don't like when you're mad at me," he told her, kissing the inside of her knee and working his way up her thigh. "But I told you before, I would worship at that altar." His free hand slid up the back of her other leg until he reached her ass, pulling her closer to his mouth as her fingers slid into his hair. "So that's exactly what I'm going to do."

Her back arched as he licked along her center, her soft moan echoing off the stone walls. He moved leisurely, taking his time while he tasted her. His hands roamed freely over every part of her he could reach until until she was quivering with pleasure, moaning his name. 

This time, when she tried to pull him back up, he allowed it, letting her mold her body against him, one leg still wrapped around him while she kissed him soundly. "Take me to bed, Shadowsinger," she whispered.

He paused, heart leaping in his chest as he looked down at her. "Are you sure?"

She nodded, caressing his cheek. "Absolutely."

His face threatened to crack into a grin as he lifted her in his arms until her legs hooked around his waist and his wings curled around them both. His shadows shot off into the bedroom, creating the soundproof barrier he requested of them. "As you wish, fair lady." 

Her delighted giggles flowed around him all the way to the bed.

Notes:

😏

Chapter 22: Part 2 - Chapter 6

Notes:

🌶🌶🌶

A little theme music

More feels at the end because I can't resist ha ha

Azriel laid Gwyn gently on the bed, hovering over her. His rough hands slid over her body, tracing the line of her curves as he looked down at her like she was the greatest treasure in the world.

"Tell me what you want, dove."

"Why do you call me that?"

"Dove? Because they're songbirds."

"Doves are not songbirds."

"Well I thought you might object to being called a warbler."

A laugh burst out of her. She loved his humor, when he chose to show it.

"In any case," he continued. "Is that really what you want to talk about right now?"

She shook her head, smiling as she allowed her hands to trace over him the way his were. 

"Then, tell me what you want."

She drew her gaze back up from the smooth broze skin over his abs. "I want you to make love to me."

He stilled for a moment before a wicked grin curled his lips. "With pleasure."

Slowly, he lowered himself until their bodies were pressed together. "I'll go slow," he promised. She nodded, swallowing her lingering nerves as their lips met in a slow, devouring kiss.

His hips rolled against her and she felt the length of him pressed between her thighs. She moaned into his mouth while he rocked his hips, the tip of his cock sliding against her entrance till she shivered. "Please, Az," she begged.

"I'm right here, mo chridhe." His hands bracketed her face, keeping her eyes on his. "Are you ready?"

She nodded, sliding her hands over his chest, to lock around his neck. "Please."

He rolled his hips forward again, slowly pushing into her. She tensed involuntarily the moment she felt him, brief pain flashing. His hands stroked over the top of her head, pushing her hair out of her face. His thumbs gently smoothed the lines in her forehead as she screwed her eyes shut. "Look at me, Gwyn." She let her eyes open to see him looking down at her with an expression so full of adoration and concern, she nearly melted. "Are you alright?"

She pressed her lips to his again, willing her body to relax. This was Azriel. He would never hurt her. She was safe. "Yes." 

He peppered kisses over her face as he gradually worked himself into her until their hips met, holding still a moment as her body stretched to accomodate him. A delicious burn spread through her body, her breath coming in soft pants.

He pulled back out of her, drawing a gasp out of her as he thrust forward again, his movements still slow and careful. He held her gaze the entire time until she felt her body begin to relax fully, pleasure flooding her with every stroke. She closed her eyes, letting her head fall back against the bed and focused on the feel of him.

"More," she moaned as she felt her orgasm building, so full she ached. 

He groaned his approval, face burying against her neck as he gave her what she wanted. He hooked one of her knees around his arm, spreading her farther and hitting something deep inside of her. She hissed, teeth clamping down on his shoulder which seemed to spur him on, hips snapping against her roughly.

She wrapped her arms around his back, raking her nails over his back, earning a pleased growl. She was so close, teetering on the edge as her muscles coiled tighter and tighter, begging for release. He must've felt it as his pace picked up even more.

"Sing for me, dove," he groaned, his fingers slipping between them to roll over her clit as he ground into her.

A scream tore out of her as her body obeyed his command. She clung to him, riding it out, waves of ecstacy washing over her. She felt his lips on the soft skin of her throat, sucking it between his teeth, marking her. She'd probably be embarrassed about it in the morning, but in the moment it was so primal it only served to add to her pleasure. 

Their mouths crashed together once again as he continued moving inside of her, his rythym becoming eratic. She squeezed her thighs around his hips encouraging him and reached out to brush his wings. He jerked forward with a shout, losing himself in her and she watched the beautiful, sharp planes of his face pinch tight. Pride surged through her as it always did when she made him lose control.

He slumped over her, hot, heavy breaths burning her fevered skin.  "Fuck," he groaned. "I meant to hold out longer than that."

A laugh burst out of her. "You enjoyed yourself too much."

His head lifted, the lazy grin on his lips making him seem almost boyish as he kissed her. "How are you feeling? Did I hurt you?"

"No." She ran her fingers through his hair enjoying the way he always melted for her when she did. His grin curled into a smirk that was pure male satisfaction when she assured him- "I feel amazing."

"Good."

They basked in each other for a moment, their scents mingling together. "What does this mean then?" she asked finally.

Azriel rolled onto his side, pulling her with him. His leg draped over hers, trapping her against him. She couldn't help but smile as he continued to watch her with that boyish grin. "It means, you're mine. Girlfriend, partner, lover- whatever you want to call it. Or you don't have to call it anything at all so long as everyone knows I've claimed you." He traced a finger over the bruise she was sure was forming on her throat. 

"Oh? And what about my claim on you?"

His eyes flashed with mischief. "You can mark me too, if you like. I'll proudly wear it."

"You're ridiculous," she giggled.

His grin widened. "Ridiculously in love."

They both froze in that moment as his words registered, but rather than looking frightened or embarrassed, he simply watched her, waiting for her response.

"You love me?" she laid a hand on his cheek, feeling it move as he nodded. A slow smile spread over her lips. "I love you, too."

She'd never seen Azriel so... soft before. His shadows momentarily abandoned their post around the room, swirling between them as though showing their approval of that love. He rolled again so she was perched on top of him as he reclined against the pillows, his cock already hardening again beneath her.

"Then show me," he purred.

---

The rest of the day was a blur of utter bliss. By the time they collapsed in bed that night, entirely spent, she could remember little else beyond flashes of moments and blinding pleasure.

His hand sliding around her throat as she moved over him, commanding her body even from beneath her. His body and wings surrounding her as he pushed into her from behind. The tug on her hair as he pulled her to him for another kiss. Her whimpers and moans blending with his growls and murmurs of praise.

On and on until their bodies' demands for rest outweighed their need for each other.

---

She woke the next morning, Azriel still wrapped around her from behind, body aching and smiling bigger than she could recall doing in years. She carefully slid out of bed, somewhat surprised when he didn't wake. He barely even stirred, clearly more tired than usual. Part of her took some pride in having worn him out.

Even after showering and dressing, Azriel still slept soundly. His shadows were awake however, a few of them swirled around her in greeting, nuzzling her cheek. "Let him sleep," she whispered to them. They swirled again, as if in agreement, before returning to their master.

She too had underestimated how tired she was, she realized, when she entered the dining room, only to find it empty, dirty dishes still lying on the table. She quickly scarfed down some eggs and toast before sprinting up to the trianing room. Mor had joined them that morning, taking Gwyn's place as an instructor. Her golden brows waggled across her forehead when she caught her eye, grinning beatifically. 

Cassian noticed her inattention and turned to give Gwyn a stern look, belied by the sparkle in his eye. "About time you showed up, Berdara. You're running extra laps today."

"Yes, sir." She blushed, hurrying over to join Mor.

She didn't see Azriel until after training, when they walked back into the House and found him at the dining table with Mor, who was grinning while he studiously ignored her. "Well good morning, sunshine," Cassian crowed while the others cackled. Gwyn's face was flamming red, but Azriel appeared unfazed. His eyes lifted to hers, the barest smile gracing his lips before it disappeared.

"So," he said, casually, finishing his late breakfast. "Who won?"

"Rhys," Nesta grumbled.

Azriel grinned. "And how much did you lose?"

"Don't ask," Cassian chuckled. They went back and forth talking about who'd won how much and it took Gwyn an embarrassingly long time to realize they were talking about having taken bets on them.

Azriel noted her discomfort, rising to take her hand and lead her back to her rooms, leaving the others to continue thier jokes. Once they were alone, Azriel pulled her against him, tucking his wings around them and kissed her softly. 

"Let me take you to dinner tonight," he said when he pulled back. "Just you and me, we'll leave the kids at home."

"Are you asking me on a date?"

"I am," he said, proudly. "What do you say?"

She hummed, pretending to think it over. "What's in it for me?"

Azriel grinned. "Whatever you want. Dinner, dancing... a little heavy petting..." She giggled when he brushed his lips over her throat, touching the mark he'd left the night before that she'd done her best to cover up. 

"Will there be cocktails?"

"If you like." Azriel continued peppering light kisses over every bit of exposed skin he could find and she indulged in it. 

"Where will you take me?" she asked, sliding her arms around his neck. He pulled back slightly, scanning her face. 

"What are you in the mood for? We could go to the restaurant on the water, or that kabob stand you like, then Rita's.... or we can go somewhere more private?"

Her fingers tangled in his hair, lightly massaging his scalp. "Private. I don't think I'm ready to share you yet."

His grin widened. "Feeling possessive are we?"

"You can't tell me you're not feeling the same."

He canted his head in a shrug. "Maybe a little. Alright. A picnic then. I know just the place." 

---

Azriel sat on top of the cliffside with Gwyn nestled against his chest. Below them, the city of Velaris spread out like a pool of stars that mirrored the sky above, the dark serpent of the Sidra winding through the middle of it all. He'd flown them up there with a basket filled with finger foods and wine that they'd enjoyed while watching the sunset.

Now, with cozy blanket wrapped around them to shield from the cold wind, they simply sat in comfortable silence, basking in each others warmth. Gwyn was gently tracing the lines of scars on his hands with her fingertips, and while he was glad she hadn't asked him about them, he felt compelled to tell her his truth.

"I was eight," he said softly, the words almost swallowed up in the darkness. Gwyn stilled. 

"You don't have to tell me."

"I know," he said, letting out a sigh and forcing himself to release the tension holding his shoulders stiff. His shadows wrapped aorund him comfortingly, offering him support. "I want to..."

She sat silently, waiting for him to continue, and once he'd gathered his thoughts. He did. "I was- no. I need to go back farther. So you'll understand." His throat tightened as he thought about everything he was about to reveal. With anyone else, he would've been scared they would think of him differently, and some part of him did feel that way. But, those four little words she'd whispered the night before gave him strength- and hope- that she would accept what he had to say and not see him as anything less.

I love you, too.

Four words no one had ever said to him before. Save one woman...

"I was born a bastard, like Cassian. But I knew who my father was. He was a lord- a married one; my mother worked in his household..." He stumbled for a moment, and felt Gwyn's fingers lace through his, grounding him. His heart warmed a little, giving him the courage he needed to continue. Once he began telling the story, he couldn't stop, like a damn had burst inside of him and all the things he'd been holding onto rushed out.

"My stepmother hated the very sight of me. She already two sons of her own and didn't want me around potentially usurping them as heirs so she locked me away in a room under the house with no windows or light... An Illyrian, stuck underground, away from the air, unable to use their wings. I didn't even learn to fly until I was eleven. By then, I was miles behind the other boys, for a lot of different reasons."

"She only let me out of that cell for an hour a day, and I only saw my mother once a week. She did everything she could to keep us apart. Treated her no better than a slave, running her ragged with work that might've been done by anyone else in the household, but I suppose she wanted to punish her for 'seducing' her husband-" he scoffed. "As if she had any choice in the matter."

"I had no friends, no companions. I ate every meal in that cell. Slept there, did everything there. Now and then, my stepbrothers would come to visit. They had a morbid sort of fascination with Illyrian healing abilities and often used me as thier guniea pig to see just how far they could push it..."

Gwyn stiffened in his arms, pulling his more tightly around her, simultaneously offering them both more comfort. He swallowed hard before he continued, knowing this was the most disturbing part.

"One night, they came with a new idea... One of them held me down, while the other poured oil over my hands... and set a torch to them." He heard Gwyn choke back a gasp. "My screams scared them off... The guards eventually heard and came for me, but by then there was too much damage."

He held his hands up, slowly turning them over so she could see the extensive scars that ran from his fingertips to just past his wrists. The uneven, mottled skin, discolored in places where the scarring was particularly bad. It was one of the few times he'd allowed anyone to look that closely. After a moment, Gwyn cupped them in her own and brought them to her face. He could feel the tears on her cheeks as she kissed them.

His heart thundered, a rapid beat he could almost hear and knew she could feel. His throat tightened as tears of his own threatened. But not from his story. He'd relived it thousands of times over his five hundred plus years on this earth. No, it was the gentleness with which she touched him, the way she held those scars against her flawless skin and nuzzled her face into them. The way she kissed them like they were something precious, and not monstrous things that had committed monstrous deeds.

He kept talking before she could say anything, unaware he'd had anything more to say until that moment. "It took months and a lot of healing before I could use them again. The skin was almost completely gone, and the scars were tight and painful. I could barely grip anything, or form a fist. I had to learn how to do simple things all over again... That was when the shadows found me."

The shadows in question gently circled them both, stroking whisper soft over his hands, his cheek. They had been with him so long- had provided the comfort he needed then when he couldn't be with his mother. The companions he'd never been allowed before.

"Those shadows are the reason I was ever allowed to live in the sun again. Shadowsingers are incredibly rare... and prized. For the first time in my life, my father found something he was actually proud of." He couldn't help the way his lip curled, his voice turning bitter, just like he had. "I kept them a secret for as long as I could, but eventually he found out. That was when he sent me to Windhaven- where I met Cassian and Rhysand."

"They'd been enemies before I arrived from what I heard. They took one look at me and decided on a new target, banding together for once while they picked on me. It was exactly what I needed though. Unlike the other boys, I hadn't learn to fight yet, so everytime we scraped in or out of the training ring, I was just pure rage. I think some part of them recognized that, and respected it on some level... It was Cassian who taught me to fly. And Rhysand and his mother who took me in... I will always be grateful to them for that. We were a family of sorts. We may not have liked each other at first but- we learned to. And by the time it was our turn to compete in the Blood Rite... the other Illyrians feared us as a unit."

He looked at his hands again, balling them into fists. "I never forgot though. And eventually I did make them pay."

"Were you satisfied?" she asked softly, the first words she'd said since he began his story.

His hands tightened hard enough for his knuckles to crack before he released them again at her touch. "No."

She kissed his hands again. "I'm so sorry, Azriel."

He tilted her head back agains this chest, gently wiping away her tears. "Don't be sad for me, dove. It was a long time ago. It doesn't hurt anymore."

Her eyes met his, startlingly blue, even in the darkness. "It does though. You may have healed physically, but you've held onto that pain and anger inside of you for so long. It still hurts you."

He swallowed hard, feeling raw, torn open. How was it that she could see through him so easily? Perhaps the others did as well, but they were- none of them- brave enouh to ever say so. They were all content to let him wallow and rage. They had their own reasons he supposed. Mor didn't typically care for confrontation or uncomfortable conversations- at least when she was at the center. Cassian was the type who generally thought it better to look forward, than behind. Feyre might have said something eventually. If given enough time. But she had her own demons to battle, as did they all. Hers were just newer.

And Rhysand... Azriel's rage suited Rhysand, who so easily embraced his own darkness. Azriel had never quite been able to do the same. He accepted that he was not a good male. He had so much blood on his hands- centuries worth- and while he tried to do good where he could, he wasn't sure his ledger would ever be clean. It would always be red.

"Don't," Gwyn said sternly, startling him from his thoughts. She'd turned in his arms, glaring at him.

"Don't what?"

"I can see your mind working. Can practically hear all the horrible things you're saying about yourself. You are not a bad person, Azriel. You're not lesser, or unworthy."

His expression tightened, that cold mask he used when he was uncomfortable sliding into place. "You don't know the things I've done, Gwyn. The people I've killed, the ways I've hurt them."

"I don't need to," she said vehemently. "I know who you are. It's never bothered me. I've seen you in battle, and I know what you do for this Court. I saw you, that night in Sangravah. I watched you take those men down- and then turn around and hand your cloak to a terrified girl. These hands-" she wrapped her fingers around his wrists, holding his hands up between them. "-may have taken many lives, but they've also saved many. More than you will ever know... They saved mine."

Her voice broke slightly and Azriel stilled, tears burning his eyes as he stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. "I don't know how," he breathed. "How to- let it go."

She smiled softly, almost glowing as she laid a hand on his cheek. "You start by trying, a little every day. And I will be with you every step if you ask me to."

No one had ever offered to walk that path with him before. His brothers, his family, had accepted his darkness and given him a safe space to dwell in it. Aside from that night in his father's house when they'd plunged into that darkness to pull him out of it, they'd never dared venture through it.

Something almost painful and allconsuming spread through him. In that moment, he wanted her- needed her- with a fierceness that scared him. Perhaps if it weren't the middle of winter, he'd take her right there on the roof. As it was, he tucked the thought away for another night- a warmer one- and instead, settled for a kiss.

She didn't resist as he cupped her face in those scared hands and pulled her to him, their lips brushing, growing more fervent by the second until she broke away, panting. "Let's go to bed. And you can show me what else those hands can do..."

His shadows didn't hesitate to obey her request, sweeping them both away...

Notes:

For those doing the tandem read- I know, another picnic. Hush. It's the easiest way to get them alone without nosy family members spying on them lol

Chapter 23: Part 2 - Chapter 7

Notes:

This is purely gratuitous and self-indulgent smut and I'm not sorry for it. There is a teensy bit of plot at the end though lol

**This chapter contains BDSM themes**

🌶🌶🌶

As soon as they landed in the warmth of the bedroom, instinct took over. The soft kisses they'd shared on the roof turned heated, aggressive even as they began pulling at each other's clothing until they were both bared.

Gwyn stepped back from him, smirking when he stalked after her until the back of her legs hit the mattress and he hovered inches away from her. "Show me what else those hands can do."

His blood sang, answering her challenge and in a flash, he had her bent over the mattress, hands gliding down the smooth skin of her back. She shivered beneath his touch, panting softly as she peered back over her shoulder at him. He watched her face, noting every minute reaction as his fingers slid between her ass to her core, smiling when her hips wiggled impatiently. He brought his other hand down on her ass with a firm slap. She jumped, her yelp melting into a moan.

"Do you want to play, dove?" he asked, gently rubbing the faint handprint on her freckled skin.

"Yes," she panted, hands clenching the sheets. 

"Good girl," he praised, leaning down to press a kiss along her spine. "Here are the rules of tonight's game. You don't move unless I tell you. You obey, you'll be rewarded. I'll make you come until you can't take it anymore and beg me to stop." His fingers flicked over her clit, causing her back to arch. 

"You disobey..." His hand squeezed her ass when he'd soaked her a moment ago and she nodded her understanding. "If at any time you're uncomfortable, or want to stop, use your safe word."

"What's my safe word?" Her voice was breathless as the scent of her arousal swirled around him, a rich, heady scent that made his head spin for a moment. He inhaled deeply, breathing it in.

"You decide. Something you wouldn't normally say so I know to listen."

She giggled. "Is that why the books always choose 'pineapple'?"

"Most likely." He chuckled, despite the desire roaring through him. His instincts riding him hard to touch her, taste her, take her. Gwyn had the ability to pull humor out of him even in his worst moods. One of the things he loved most about her. "Is that your word?"

Her lips rolled together as she considered. "My brain is too far gone to think of anything else right now, so yes."

He grinned, rewarding her honestly by stroking her again with his fingers. "Then say it for me so I know you know it."

A blush stained her cheeks, her voice full of mirth. "Pineapple."

"Again."

"Pineapple."

"Good girl." He sunk a finger inside of her, her moan washing over him. "Are you ready?"

She wiggled her hips again. "Please."

He squeezed her ass one more time before pulling away, smiling at the keening whine that left her. "Then let's begin. Don't. Move."

He backed away, watching her toes curl into the carpet beneath her as she fought to keep still, her body tense and trembling. He smirked approvingly, leaving his shadows to watch her as he disappeared into his closet. He pulled down the small, leather bag in the corner, quietly inventorying it's contents. Other than the night he'd first introduced her to a few of his toys, he hadn't touched it, wanting to wait for the right time to pull it out. 

He walked back into the room, sitting it on the bed next to her face, watching her curious expression. He made a show of pulling out the scrap of dark silk, dragging it over her skin and making her shiver, before carefully gathering her hair behind her and securing the blindfold over her eyes. 

"How's that?" he asked as he finished tying the know behind her head and pushing the end of her hair back over her shoulder. She nodded, licking her lips. He kissed her temple, lightly nipping her ear. "Let me know if you want it off, but I think you'll like the element of surprise."

Her lips curled into a wicked smirk and he braced himself for her next words. "Then get on with it."

He growled softly, wrapping his fingers around the back of her neck, holding her down. A small show of dominance. "You're not in charge right now, Berdara. You better check that attitude before your bratty mouth gets you in trouble."

She just smiled, unrepentant. Oh, he was going to have fun with her.

He rummaged through the bag, purposefully making a lot of noise though he'd already found what he wanted, spiking her anticipation. She tensed at the whisper of leather and soft clink of metal and he paused, scenting her, relaxing when he didn't smell fear. He moved around the bed, securing the chains to the posts and draping them across the mattress. His hands slid along her arms until he found her wrists, caressing each of them before slipping the leather cuffs around them and attaching them to the end of the chains. 

He did the same with her ankles at the base of the bed, dragging his nails lightly down the back of her thighs and purposely avoiding the desire that practically dripped out of her until he had he spread out like he wanted, her ass beautifully on display.

"You look so pretty in chains," he purred, running his fingers underneath the leather of the cuffs to make sure they weren't too tight, placing a kiss at the base of her spine. "Do you like your new jewelry?" he teased, delighting in the smirk on her face. 

"I don't know, I can't see it. But I do like leather-eep!" She yelped, pressing up on her toes when he spanked her a little harder. 

"Keep it up, dove. I like seeing your skin turn pink. You keep going as you are you're going to have permanent hand prints in the morning."

She growled playfully, her fingers wrapping around the chains securing her to the bed, but she said nothing else.

He pulled another object from the bag, dangling it over her body as he brushed the tips of the leather strips over her back watching her spine bow at the feel of it. He pulled it away for a second, only to flick his wrist, sending those leather tips raining down on her ass. She jerked, gasping. "I didn't say anything!"

Azriel smirked. "Did that one hurt?" Her pretty lips pushed into a frown.

"No."

"Remember me telling you there was a very thin line between pain and pleasure? I'm about to show you what I mean. That was for pleasure. And those spanks you've already gotten were more warning that punishment. Trust me, you'll know when you're being punished. That being said, the goal is never to harm, so don't be afraid to use your word if it's too much. Understood?"

She nodded silently and he gave her another warning spank. "Say it. When I ask you questions like that I expect verbal responses."

"Yes. I understand." Her jaw clenched and he knew she was chaffing at having to follow orders, but he could still smell her desire, knew she wanted this even as her baser instincts fought his control. Oh yes. He was very much going to enjoy teaching her these kinds of games.

"Very good. Now, stay still and take it like a good girl." Without another word, he stepped back, flicking his wrist again. The soft smack of leather on skin pulled a hiss from her lips and he repeated the motion, over and over, gaining a rythym while he watched her struggle not to squirm. Eventually, her little hisses and whimpers turned to moans and quiet sobs. 

"Please!" she all but screamed. "Please, please, please."

"Please what?" he asked, still raining soft little hits and watching the skin of her ass turn redder. 

"Oh Gods, I want to come," she sobbed. "Please, please. Touch me."

He dropped the flogger, panting softly as he dropped to his knees and covered her with his mouth. She jerked against her restraints, crying out as her orgasm hit her with a few strokes of his tongue. She was still trembling and sobbing as he quickly let her out of the restraints, tugging the blindfold off her face and he flipped her onto her back.

She reached for him and he went to her without protest, kissing her hard as he plunged his fingers into her, catching her moans and whimpers with his mouth. As soon as her second orgasm hit, he withdrew, immediately replacing his fingers with his cock.

Gwyn screamed, back arching and nails digging into his shoulders. He cradled her body against his chest as he let up on the restraints he'd placed on his control, thrusting into her with an animalistic fervor. She seemed to be lost to the same feeling, her ankles locking behind his back, and heels digging into this ass, pushing him deeper. Their kisses were sloppy, more teeth than tongue as she urged him on until he was spilling inside of her, wringing out another orgasm from her just in time before he collapsed. 

They lay there, panting and sweaty until Gwyn's chest started shaking with laughter. "I think I like that game," she said between giggles.

Azriel joined her, laughing as he kissed every inch of her face. "Good." She hissed when he squeezed her tender ass and he reluctantly moved off of her, nudging her hip. "Come on, roll over. Let me take care of that."

She did as he asked, rolling onto her stomach and propping her head on her folded arms while he moved around the room on shaking legs, putting away the things he'd used and retrieving a damp cloth and a small bottle of oil from the bathroom. He cleaned her up and gently massaged the oil into the red marks on her skin dropping little kisses on her shoulders as he worked. 

When he was finished, he brushed her hair out of her face and cupped the back of her head. Her only response was quiet humming. Big teal eyes blinked sleepily at him. "How are you feeling?"

A soft smile graced her lips. "Wonderful."

"Yeah?" Now that the high of desire and pleasure were wearing off, he was worried he might have pushed her too far. She didn't seem bothered though. Not by the dark handprints on her skin or the faint marks on her wrists. Not by him.

Seeming to read his thoughts, she laid a hand on his cheek. "I'm fine. I promise."

"Ok."

"Now, turn off the lights and lets go to bed Shadowsinger. You wore me out," she said, patting his cheek and cuddling up to his side.

He chuckled, waving a hand to extinguish the lights before pulling the covers over them both. Once again, his shadows surrounded them, laying protectively over Gwyn as he lay beside her, stroking her hair, down to her back, watching her sleep. Once again, he marveled over his luck. Not only that he'd found such a female, but that she- miraculously- returned his affection as well.

For the first time in a very long time, he no longer felt lonely when he pictured his future.

---

The next evening was family dinner, which both Cassian and Azriel were somewhat dreading as they knew it was when Nesta would finally learn of her sister's departure from Night.

Mor winnowed them all over, except Azriel who wanted to take Gwyn flying for a brief moment of quiet before they joined the chaos of his family. It was the first time she and Emerie had been invited to the Inner Circle's dinners though he was fairly certain Rhys had only been waiting on him and Mor to make things official with their respective Valkyrie before doing so.

Gwyn whooped and laughed, tossing her head back with a giant smile as her flew her in loops and cicles through the cold night air. He couldn't wait for winter to fade so he could take her on a longer flight without worrying about her freezing. As it was, her cheeks and nose were pink, eyes bright when they finally landed outside the River House. He grinned back at her, leaning forward, but before he could kiss her, an ungodly screech, accompanied by the sound of a shattering glass reached them from inside.

"Fuck," he sighed.

Gwyn looked at him with wide eyes. "What happened?"

"Nesta just found out Elain left to visit Day with Lucien," he sighed.

There was a stunned pause before Gwyn snorted a laugh. "We better get in there before she blows the house down."

"Good call," he muttered, ushering her inside. With any luck, Gwyn could work her charming magic on Nesta before she could rage too hard. Between her and Cassian, hopefully, they'd keep Nesta contained.

"You just let her go!? With him!" Nesta's was the first voice that greeted them inside. She stood above Feyre who was attempting to calm Nyx and Rhys who looked unimpressed by Nesta's anger.

"First," he said cooly. "There was no letting Elain do anything. She didn't ask anyone's permission- nor did she need to, I might add. She's an adult who can make her own decisions. And in any case, she snuck out without anyone knowing until Feyre found her note."

He sniffed, picking a piece of lint from his pristine shirt. "Secondly, Lucien is not just anyone. He is both her mate and- for the time being, Night's emissary. It's not as though he swept her off to some remote island where she'll never been seen or heard from again. They're in the Day Court palace. I've already been in contact with Helion, he assured me you and Feyre are welcome to visit Elain when you like-"

"Then let's go!"

Rhys leveled her a bored look at the interuption. "He only requested that you give her and Lucien time to acclimate before you come storming in and that you not try to convince her to return to Night. Elain is perfectly capable of knowing her own mind and one of the reasons she left in the first place is because she didn't want to be influenced by you to stay-"

"Liar-"

"It's all there in the note she left if you'd like to read it," he drawled, summoning a piece of parchment from thin air which Nesta snatched up.

Nesta paced in front of the fireplace, skirts swirling around her ankles as she read. Emerie remained next to Mor, watching while Gwyn approached carefully. Nesta froze, seeming to reread the same passage several times over, her face turning redder by the second. Cassian began approaching from her other side, he and Gwyn appearing ready to wrangle her like a startled animal.

"Nes," Cassian coaxed softly. 

Nesta dropped her hands, one fisting the letter as she glared murder at Rhys. "Take me there."

Rhys stared back at her impassively. "No." Nesta began to tremble with rage, silver lighting her eyes. Gwyn tentatively laid a hand on her shoulder, Cass doing the same on her otherside and she seemed to calm if only marginally. Rhys continued, unconcerned that Lady Death had her sights on him. "Helion believes Elain needs a break from Night, and I happen to concur."

Nesta blinked, the fire in her eyes extinguishing. "What?"

"I think we can all agree that Elain has been... less than thriving lately. I think the change of scenery will be good for her. Already, Helion says that she and Lucien have spent a lot of time traveling the territory, visiting his various libraries to learn more about her seer powers, and apparenlty she's formed a bond with Lucien's mother. By all accounts, she's doing very well in Day."

That seemed to deflate Nesta even more as she leaned back into Cassian's side, Gwyn rubbing her arm sympathetically. Azriel edged over, taking Gwyn's hand and pulling her along with him, leaving Nesta in the capable hands of her mate.

"Well, I don't know about everyone else," Mor announced, disrupting the tense mood. "But I could use a drink. Ladies? Gents?"

Rhys waved a lazy hand, indicating for her to do as she pleased. Amren sat in the corner through the entire exchange, grinning like a cat. Only, it wasn't Nesta she was watching when Azriel looked over his shoulder at her, but him. And the way both his wing and shadows had curled protectively around Gwyn. He bristled instinctively, wings rustling. Amren's grin sharpened slightly as she raised her glass in silent acknowledgment. 

Dinner was a bit livelier than usual after that as Mor and Cass argued loudly across the table from one another, clearly trying to distract Nesta who was still fuming silently. Emerie and Feyre were chatting amicably and Gwyn was once again in a debate with Rhys about some book or other while Azriel sat in the middle of it all, quietly watching.

Nesta had mostly calmed down by the time they finished eating and moved back into the living room, especially once her nephew had been passed over to her and she busied herself entertaining him. One of the rare times anyone saw Nesta wearing a true smile.

The twins had set out mini spice cakes out along with tea which Gwyn was quick to grab before joining Azriel in the corner. He leaned in attempting to steal a bite but she turned away from him, tucking the cake away protectively.

"I only want a bite," he pouted.

"Get your own cake, batboy. There's plenty there."

He grinned at the nickname. "Are you going to make me plead, dove?"

"Yes," she grinned. "Beg me for it, Shadowsinger."

"Like you were begging last night?" he whispered against her ear with a teasing grin.

Gwyn propped her free hand on her hips. "One of these days you're going to regret teasing me so much when the shoe's on the other foot."

Azriel lifted a brow, amused. "Oh? You think you can tame the fearsome Shadowsinger?"

"I already have," she smirked, smug as can be.

He crossed his arms over his chest, trying his best not to laugh. "Is that so?"

Her smile turned wickedly sharp as she held a hand up between them. "I've got you right here. Palm of me hand."

He wasn't sure what impulse caused him to do it, but next thing he knew, he was leaning forward, placing his face in her hand with a cheeky grin. Her laugh was delightful as she wrapped her fingers around his chin and giving him a quick kiss that had his shadows practically singing with giddiness. 

This. This was what he'd been missing all these years. This casual banter and easy affection he hadn't even known he wanted so badly until now. The old Azriel would've been mortified to see him practically melting in her hands, but he hadn't realized just how touch starved he was until that first kiss, and now he was an addict.

They both turned back to the room to see everyone staring at them with open mouths. Except Emerie and Nesta who looked fit to swoon. On instinct, that ice cold mask he'd worn for so long attempted to slide back into place until he felt Gwyn's hand slide into his own. Why should he be embarrassed? Not in front of his friends. They were all disgustingly affectionate with their own partners, why shouldn't he be the same? 

After a moment of shocked silence, Mor half stumbled forward, wrapping Gwyn in a fierce hug which she returned, slightly confused. "Thank you," he heard Mor whisper in her ear.

His own face went a bit slack as he peered around at his friends and saw them all wearing soft expressions, even Amren, looking at the pair of them like they'd just given them a gift. Rhys brushed against his mind and he allowed him to slip in.

"It's been a long time since I've seen you genuinely smile brother. We're all happy for you."

Azriel felt this throat tighten, his grip on Gwyn's hand tightening. "Thank you."

"Now, learn from our mistakes and don't be a dumbass," he joked. "Treat her well."

Azriel almost snorted as he felt Rhys pull out of his head. He'd already made so many mistakes with Gwyn and would undoubtedly make many more, but he felt confident now that no matter how badly he messed up, she'd be there to scold him and gently guide him back. And he'd happily spend the rest of his life on his knees begging her mercy if it meant she'd stay.

Notes:

Tandem read: A Court of Light Ch 20

Chapter 24: Part 2 - Chapter 8

Notes:

Tandem read: This chapter follows A Court of Light Ch 21

This one's a little short, but I wanted to split this one and the next. You'll see why 😏

Rhys forced the sisters to wait a full week more before agreeing to accompany them to Day to visit Elain. Gwyn would have written to give her a heads up, but she was currently preoccupied with her budding relationship with Azriel. 

Things were going better than expected, which usually meant, in her experience, that something unpleasant was on the horizon, but she was currently choosing not to focus on that. 

Azriel, even more so than before, deemed to be delighting in showing Gwyn every aspect of lovemaking he could think of, helping her explore her boundaries and interests with an alacrity that was almost alarming. She didn't know how he managed to keep up with training, his duties as Spymaster, and the amount of time he spent pleasuring her in bed. If this was what he was like now, she couldn't help but wonder what him in a frenzy would look like. 

"Mercy, mercy!" she cried as he pushed her over the edge of her.... eighth orgasm (so far? she'd lost track somewhere around four or five) with his tongue and fingers, her body feeling oversensitive and exhausted. He crawled up her body, dropping teasing kisses along her torso until he hovered over her, grinning. 

"Too much?"

"No need to look so smug about it," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. Her gaze dropped down between their sweatslicked bodies. "Do you- uh-"

"Only if you think you can take it," he said, nuzzling her cheek. 

Gwyn frowned. "You don't want to...?"

"Come?" he said lifting his head with a smirk. His hips rolled against her, showing her just how much he wanted to. "Of course I do. But not at the expense of causing you pain."

His kiss was so tender it brought tears to her eyes. Azriel was a good male, even if he did act like an idiot sometimes, his mouth moving before his brain could catch up on occasion. How had she gotten so lucky to find a partner who was infinitely more concerned with her comfort and wellbeing- her happiness, than his own fleeting pleasure. 

"How about a compromise?" she murmured agains this lips. Her hand snaked between them, wrapping around his cock, enjoying the soft hiss of his breath as she slowly stroked him up and down. 

His only answer was a low, rumbling groan. His forehead pressed against hers, breath heaving out of his chest in heavy pants as his hips moved, thrusting into her fist. It didn't take long before he was falling apart in her hand, especially when her free hand traced lightly over his wings. Anoher thing she was coming to learn to love, how sensitive they were to her touch. More than once, she'd 'accidentally' brushed against them during training or when around their friends. The heated looks he'd send her always had her shivering in anticipation, waiting for that next moment alone together they would catch whenever they could. 

Azriel collapsed on the bed beside her as she waved a hand, cleaning them both, a little trick Mor had taught her the day before, after an unfortunate accident involving an overturned ink well on Azriel's desk.

He chuckled at her pleased grin. "You'll be a right menace if she teaches you any more tricks."

She rolled her eyes. "How much trouble could I possibly get into by learning a bit of domestic magic?"

Azriel lifted a brow. "I heard about the circus of frogs from your last 'girls night' with Nes and Em."

"That was the House, not me," she scoffed.

"And the exploding bubbles."

She opened her mouth to defend herself again.

"And the tower of cakes...."

She closed her mouth with a snap, lips pursed. 

Azriel chuckled, rolling onto his side and pulling her body against him. He nuzzled her neck, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "I'm just sorry I missed seeing you in a bath tub."

"We were fully clothed," she said primly. "And there was no water, only bubbles."

He made a sound between a groan and hum. "That's an image, you covered in bubbles..."

She laughed as she felt his cock stir against her backside. "Down boy. How on earth do you manage to get hard again so quickly? Don't you get tired?"

She felt him grin, pulling her harder against his hips. "Centuries of spy training. I have excellent stamina."

"So I noticed," she drawled. through a yawn. "Well, some of us need rest."

"So sleep, dove. He'll still be here when you wake up."

"Please do not refer to your cock in the third person. There's not enough room for your wings and your ego in this bed," she groaned, earning her a laugh.

"Shh. Don't tell him that-" he yelped as she shoved him off the matress, hiding her smile as she snuggled under the sheets. "Alright, alright. I surrender!"

He climbed back into bed, rolling her onto her back as he setlled between her thighs, head resting between her breasts. His arms wrapped around her waist and his wings stretched out across the mattress. Gwyn stared down at the mess of dark hair beneath her chin.

"Comfortable?" she asked drily. 

"Very," he answered, snuggling his face closer to her left breast. She couldn't help but laugh, reaching up to play with the strands of his hair that brushed his neck, her eyes drooping closed. There was a long moment of silence before she heard him whisper. "Will you sing to me?"

She paused, peeking one eyes open to see his shadows watching her. "Will you join me?"

He hesitated briefly. "Yes."

She began humming the tune of a popular lullaby, and when she opened her mouth to sing the words, he sang with her. His voice was smooth and warm like whiskey, a soft timbre that complimented her lyrical tones. As they sang, his shadows swooped and twirled, dancing along with every note. When the song came to an end, one of them reached up to nuzzle her cheek.

"You'll be a good mother," Azriel murmured sleepily. Gwyn froze, but he said nothing else as his breath evened out with sleep. 

She stared wideeyed into the darkness, heart racing. Did Azriel want to have children with her? Soon? Or did he mean in the future? She wasn't sure she was ready for that. Not anytime soon. She adored children, but she was still so young, sometimes she still felt like a child herself. 

Best not to think too hard on it, she thought as she tried to settle herself. No matter how many times or ways she said it though, she knew she'd be getting very little sleep that night. 

---

The next day, the Archeron sisters and their mates left for Day. Mor had decided to take the opportunity to steal Emerie away for some alone time and the pair had disappeared somewhere for the next week, though she refused to tell anyone where. Leaving Gwyn and Azriel alone in the House for at least the next fortnight. 

Since most of the instructors would be gone, Azriel had decided to give the rest of the priestesses and Valkyrie the time off of training, though they were all welcome to continue working out in the ring, but weapons had been banned for the time being without supervision.

He'd also decided to use the time alone annointing every inch of the House he could manage with Gwyn. "Pay back" he told her, after what Nesta and Cassian had put him through when they were first courting. She rolled her eyes, but she didn't complain as he dragged her into a different room every night and devoured her until they were both too exhausted to move.

He wasn't sure if it was just the glow of a new relationship or Gwyn herself, but he felt himself incapable of having enough of her. Every second of the day he craved her with a passion he'd never felt before. It almost scared him. This must be what a frenzy feels like, he supposed.

One morning, after thoroughly defiling the private library the night before, he awoke on the soft rug before the fire, wrapped in a blanket, Gwyn curled against his side. For once, his blood did not surge with the immediate need to claim her yet again, though his body still reacted to her presence. Perhaps they'd finally reached the end of whatever this haze was that had claimed them since the night they'd first made love. Which was good because he was severely behind on work.

He pulled her closer, burying his nose in her hair, about to propose they spend some time apart that morning so he could catch up on reports when he felt her tense in his arms. Immediately he froze, his shadows swarming as they tried to gauge her mood. She hadn't shied away from his touch before and began to worry that perhaps she'd had a nightmare.

"Gwyn?" he asked carefully when he heard her sniffle quietly. Reaching up, he gently brushed her hair away from her face, alarmed when he saw her eyes squeezed shut and her fist clenched tightly around the locket around her neck. Her eyes looked red and swollen like she'd been crying for some time.

She grieves. His shadows said, uncharacteristally somber. At least in comparison to how they usually talked about her. 

Grieves? His shadows had no further answer for them, but he could feel their anxiety. Their worry.

"Gwyn?" he tried again, stroking her cheek to wipe some of the wetness from them. His chest squeezed painfully. "Talk to me, dove. Please."

She sucked in a sharp breath. "It's my birthday..."

Confusion clouded his mind for a second before he recalled the information he'd gathered after the attack on Sangravah. Gwyn had twin sister who died that night. They'd found her body amongst the carnage of the kitchen where he'd found Gwyn, her head removed. Cauldron boil him. She'd seen that...

"We would've been 30 today," she whispered before he could fully process the horror of that revelation. 

He gently turned her over, folding her aginst his chest. She buried her face in the crook on his neck, her arms wrapping around his back as she clung to him for strength. His shadows wrapped protectively around her, a few of them running over her hair. They seemed to whine quietly at her anguish, grieving with her. "I'm sorry, dove."

She didn't say anything for a long while, just held on to him, crying silently. Finally, she leaned back slightly, resting her head on his arm and smiling slightly when his shadows nuzzled her cheek. "Tell me about her," he said.

She glanced up at him, teal eyes wide and bright and he wondered when was the last time anyone had asked about her sister. "Catrin loved birthdays," she laughed softly. "She used to drag me out of bed at midnight to sneak into the kitchens to pilfer a slice of cake to share. The older priestesses knew, we had a penchant for doing so often, but on that day, they always let us get away with it."

Azriel smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as he imagined a young Gwyn, in a frilly nightgown and slippers sneaking into the temple's kitchen, giggling with another redheaded girl. Gwyn smiled back, but she must've read his thoughts somehow as she said, "We didn't look alike. Practically opposites, in fact. In looks and personality. She was the clever one, if you can believe it."

Azriel made a disbelieving sound, earning him a smirk. Her eyes were still red and swollen, but he was happy to see her smile again. 

"She was brilliant and passionate and moody, but she took her role as a priestess seriously...."

Gwyn trailed off and Azriel tried to fill in the blanks. "You didn't want to be a priestess?" he guessed. She looked up at him, shame lighting her eyes as she shook her head. 

"I liked working with the children, and after coming here, I liked working with the other priestesses, working in the library, researching, but.... No. I don't know that I really knew what I wanted to be. Not that I had many options... There were only so many things an orphaned female could do.... Coming here, working in the library, meeting Nesta and Emerie and all of you, reviving the Valkyrie... as awful as the circumstances that brought me here were, they gave me purpose... and I will always be grateful for that but..."

She sucked in another breath, her eyes glistening with tears again. "You miss her," he finished for her. She nodded, closing her eyes.

"I do. All the time. It's not as bad as it was when I first came here, it's gotten less painful over the years but... Sometimes-" she choked, her breath stuttering for a moment. "Sometimes, in those moments when I'm feeling happy- I can't help but feel guilty."

Azriel's throat tightened. He knew that feeling well. Survivor's guilt. After he'd escaped his father's house to the warcamps, as rough as it had been at first, it was freedom. One his mother wouldn't know for several more decades.

Gwyn's soft fingertips traced over the tattoos on his chest. "The last few days have been a dream," her lips curved in a wobbly smile. "But it just hit me when I woke up this morning, that she- she'll never-" her shoulder shook on another sob and Azriel cradled her head into his chest. 

"Nothing that happened was your fault, Gwyn," he whispered into her hair. "There was nothing you could've done that would've changed the outcome of that night. I'm sorry I couldn't get to you sooner." She sobbed harder and he held her until she calmed, pulling back to look her in the eye. "Your sister would want you to be happy. She would want you to continue living your life. I know that can be hard to accept, but it's true."

Gwyn took a shaky breath and nodded. He pulled her back to him, pressing a kiss to her forehead before an idea hit him. He pulled back again. "How about we go take a bath, clean up, maybe eat something- and then I'd like to take you somewhere. If you're feeling up to it?"

Her brows furrowed curiously. "Where?" He didn't answer, just smiled until she nodded her agreement. 

Gathering her in his arms, he winnowed them back to her rooms where a bath was already being readied courtesy of the House. They were already naked, so he climbed into the tub, settling her against his chest. A tray appeared next to the edge with two mugs of coffee and plates of eggs and toast which Gwyn thanked the house for. In return, it added a chocolate muffin with a candle causing Gwyn to chuckle.

They ate as the water finished filling, and she let him fuss over her, washing every inch of her himself as some primal instinct to look after her took over him. Once they were cleaned, he reluctantly left her to dress while he returned briefly to his room, pulling on wool trousers and thick sweater. Gwyn met him in the hall wrapped in a wool coat over thick leggings and a knitted sweater, boots lacing up her knees and hair braided over her shoulder. Even with her eyes still rimmed in red, she took his breath away.

He pulled her into his arms when they reached the balcony and launched them into the air, flying until they reached the edge of the wards and then winnowed them away.

---

When Azriel's shadows cleared away, they were soaring over a dense forest of evergreen trees. In the distance, Gwyn could see the Steppes, and closer still, she could see a small settlement, not quite as large as the warcamps she'd seen. He began descending before they reached the village, and upon closer inspection, she could make out a rather large, but rustic looking house nestled amongst the trees, a small stream winding through the back yard and a neat little garden running around the edge of the house, filled with dormant rose bushes. 

They landed in the small drive outfront and he set her on her feet as she stared up at the modest stone front. "Where are we?"

"Rosehall," he said with a secretive smile. He placed a hand on her back, leading her towards the door. She felt the shimmer of wards wash over them as they neared and, a few feet from the entrance, the door opened. 

A smiling Illyrian female stood on the threshold, wipping her hands on a dusty apron and smiling. Gwyn's breath caught when she recognized the similarities between her and Azriel.

"You didn't tell me you were coming today," she chided as he stepped around Gwyn to kiss her cheek. She heard him murmur an apology as he reached back and pulled Gwyn to his side. "And you've brought a guest, I see," she said, her eyes twinkling with delight.

To her astonishment, an easy, adoring smile graced Azriel's face as he looked down at her. "Gwyn, I'd like you to meet my mother."

Chapter 25: Part 2 - Chapter 9

Notes:

I gotta be honest. This was not a chapter I expected to write in this story, but I like the way it turned out.

Ignore the random POV change in the beginning. I wrote this in parts and didn't realize I'd done it until I was rereading before posting and didn't feel like trying to change or separate them so there you go lol

Tandem read: This chapter and A Court of Light Ch 22 happen simultaneously

Unearthly large, teal eyes blinked in shock before a smile bloomed on Gwyn's face. "It's an honor to meet you ma'am."

Azriel smirked as his mother snorted. "Oh, please, child. Call me Eliana."

She ushered them inside, ignoring Gwyn's attempts at deference and waving them off with an unconcerned air. They were offered tea as soon as they reached the parlor and he watched in mild amusement as Gwyn instantly charmed his mother, asking about her garden and the rose bushes that were her pride and joy. His shadows swarmed happily around the pair, flitting back and forth between the two most important women in his life. 

Even now, nearly three hundred years later, it still amazed him to see his mother so changed from the cowering female she'd been in his father's presence. There were still days he couldn't believe that he'd not only gotten her away from him, but that he'd let her go so easily. In the end though, it merely took a bit of convincing on the part of his wife - and Truthteller at his throat- to part with the female he'd seen as little more than a bit of skirt for him to use as entertainment. 

Azriel had no longer been young and small enough for him to use as leverage to keep her in line and with the backing of the newly crowned High Lord and the feared bastard general, his mother had been easily extracted from the hell that had been her life for far too long and comfortably ensconced within the home Azriel had bought for her near a coastal town his father would never deign to visit and surrounded by the best wards Rhysand could produce.

It had taken time, but eventually she realized she had nothing to fear here, and that she now had the space and time to heal as she needed. She would never have to work a day in her life again if she wished with the trust Azriel had created to provide for her, but she was not the sort to stay idle for long. She took up gardening and began cooking for some of the other residents in the neighboring village that were unable to do for themselves, taking a particular interest in the children of the small orphanage in town. 

Eventually, his mother excused herself to the kitchen to begin preparing dinner. As soon as she was out of the room, Azriel pulled Gwyn into his lap, wrapping his arms around her hips. His head tilted up, his full lips pursing slightly as he silently asked for a kiss. She obliged him, though her cheeks warmed, feeling awkward about being so physical in his mother's house. Especially when she walked back into the room a second later to inquire about Gwyn's perference of meats. She tried to jump to her feet but Azriel held her securely in place as he answered for her. 

"Azriel," she scolded him in a whisper, darting glances to the kitchen door. "This is inappropriate."

"She doesn't mind," he replied, kissing along her jaw as she tried to put as much distance between them as possible. It wasn't that she wasn't enjoying his display of affection, it was that she rather felt she was enjoying it too much for being around another person. 

"Az," she hissed. He pulled back with a sigh, but didn't immediately let her go. 

"I find it rather ironic that you don't seem to mind my touching you - or you touching me-" he flared his wings pointedly. "When we're around our friends, but my mother's being in the next room makes you squeamish."

"That's different," she scowled. 

"Is it?" he grinned, his hand slipping to the inside of her thigh, brushing up, up, up... Gwyn squeezed her thighs together, trapping his hand before it could get any further. She shivered when his lips brushed the shell of her ear. "I think, you don't care for the taste of your own medicine, Berdara. I'm rather enjoying being the one to get you worked up for once-"

A pointed cough came from the kitchen and this time when she tried to jump to her feet, he didn't stop her, though a decidedly smug grin now graced his mouth. Gwyn cleared her throat, smoothing her hair and sweater, trying to ignore the burning in her cheeks. 

"Shouldn't we be helping your mother?" she asked primly.

Azriel leaned back in his seat, foldng his arms over his chest. "She won't let you. She won't even let me help her, though she has no problem letting me clean when she's done." He raised his voice just a little at the end, smiling when his mother snorted in the other room. 

"But," he said, rising to his feet. "We can keep her company if you like." She let him take her hand and lead her to the kitchen where his mother was already at work, a few pots bubbling gently on the stove while she was busy chopping vegetables. 

He led her to the small table in the corner where a tea kettle waited, pouring her a cup. Gwyn shifted on her feet, glancing between the table and his mother. "Can I help you with anything Eliana?"

She waved a hand over her shoulder. "Not a thing. You're my guest dear. Have a seat, dinner won't be ready for a couple hours."

Azriel gave her an "I told you so" look as she reluctantly took a seat.

"But my son can come help me with this meat," she continued, nodding at the massive slab of beef beside her. Azriel's brows winged up as his mother pinned him with a look. "I will not have your mate thinking you can't take care of her."

Gwyn choked on her tea as Azriel's eyes widened. "Ma-" his mother silenced him with sound between a hiss and a whistle, nodding again at the beef. Without further protest, he got to his feet, rolling up his sleeves as he moved to the sink to wash up. "Yes, ma'am." His mother nodded her satisfaction and returned to her task. 

Gwyn mopped up the tea that had dribbled down her chin at the word 'mate'. Her mind was a riot of thoughts as she watched mother and son working side by side, elbowing each other playfully out of the way as they moved around the kitchen. 

Eliana glanced over her shoulder with an expectant look and Gwyn realized she'd been asked a question. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"You threw her off talking about mates, ma," Azriel chuckled. 

"Well what else am I supposed to call the pair of you?" she shrugged. "Partner sounds like she's a coworker. Not very romantic."

Azriel rolled his eyes, turning back to Gwyn with a smirk. "She asked if you liked chocolate cake, she made some yesterday. I already told her you do but she apparently doesn't trust me, wants to hear it from you."

"Oh. Yes, I do. Thank you." Pistachio was actually her favorite- or rather it was Catrin's favorite which she'd developed a liking for over the years, but she wasn't picky. 

"- a bhobain!" Eliana scolded her son playfully, swatting him with a towel when he gave her a smug look at Gwyn's answer. She hid a smile as Azriel shifted away from the blow, grinning at her irritation before appeasing her with a kiss on the cheek. 

It was a sweet, domestic moment, watching the two of them interact together like this. Gwyn almost felt like an intruder as she watched from the table. She wasn't alone though, she realized. A few of Azriel's shadows had settled around her shoulders, watching alongside her. When the pair smiled and laughed, the shadows danced happily, as though pleased that their master was happy.

Once the roast was in the oven, Azriel and Eliana joined her at the little table, chatting about the goings on in the nearby village. "Shai came by yesterday," Eliana said with a fond smile. "He asked when you were coming to visit again. I wish I had known you were coming today, he would love to see you."

Azriel shifted in his seat and Gwyn swore she saw him blush. 

"Who's Shai?" she asked. Eliana grinned.

"A boy from the village. He got one look at Azriel a few years ago when he came to help with some repairs after a storm and fell head over heels. He follows him around like a puppy every time my son comes to visit, asking a million and one questions about his shadows and Truthteller and his siphons. It's adorable."

Gwyn glanced at Azriel who reddened even more. Her lips curled into a grin that had his eyes narrowing. "Aw, Azriel. You have an admirer."

He rolled his eyes, grumbling under his breath, but she could have sworn his shadows laughed.

"He's certainly the mighty Shadowsinger's biggest fan," his mother teased.

"Oh, I'd love to meet this young male. Ask him what exactly he's so enamored with. I certainly can't think of anything," Gwyn said with wide, innocent eyes.

One of the shadows darted out, nipping indignantly at her cheek. She laughed, running her fingers through it soothingly. "Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't talking about you. I'm sure you're exactly what he adores so much."

Satisfied, the shadow nuzzled her before settling back over its master's shoulder. Eliana laughed, tossing back her head. Dark ebony locks, twisted into a braid shone in the light from the window, her hazel eyes- a near perfect match to her son's- twinkled with delight.

"Oh I do like her, mo chridhe. I hope you keep this one around."

Gwyn's head cocked at the familiar endearment. Azriel had used it more than once for her, though he'd never explained it's meaning. "What does that mean?" She asked Eliana. 

"Mo chridhe?" Gwyn nodded and Eliana smiled softly, reaching across the table for her son's hand. "My heart."

Gwyn met Azriel's eyes across the table. He held her gaze steadily, that intense stare that made her chest warm and her throat tight. Eliana must have sensed the sudden tension between them and excused herself for a moment, leaving them alone.

Azriel's foot hooked around the leg of her chair, dragging her closer until her knees were between his own. He leaned forward, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, the gesture so sweet and tender she had the sudden urge to cry. 

"Your heart?" she teased, ignoring the thickness of her voice. 

A scarred thumb stroked her cheek. "I already told you I loved you, dove. Did you need more proof?"

She shook her head, leaning closer. "No, but... you called me that weeks ago." Long before he'd first said those three words. 

His forehead rested against hers. "I think I just needed a little longer to catch up to what my heart already knew."

Tears welled in her eyes as she reached out to stroke his face, cupping his jaw. Her lips pressed toether as she struggled to keep in her thoughts, her feelings. All the things she wanted to say though she knew now wasn't the time. 

"You are my heart, Gwyn," Azriel said, leaning into her touch. "My heart and my soul. The moonlight on the darkest night... You are perhaps the first person to see me, truly see me, all the dark and ugly places- and accept me exactly as I am. Though cauldron knows what I did to deserve it."

She choked back a sob as he turned to his head to press a kiss to her palm, golden eyes holding hers. "I thought you didn't do poetry, Shadowsinger," she joked.

He grinned. "Only for you."

---

His mother returned a few minutes later, once Gwyn had managed to compose herself (and after she hauled Azriel to her and kissed the hell out of him for his sweet words), holding a deck of cards. As the roast continued to cook in the oven, she pulled out a bottle of wine and they played. His mother asked Gwyn questions about herself, and she regaled her with stories of her and her Valkyrie sister's escapades until the slamming of the front door and running footsteps had them all on alert.

"Mrs. Eliana! Mrs. Eliana!" Azriel's shadows swirled excitedly.

She smiled at the voice and called back over her shoulder. "In here, Shai!" Azriel's eyes narrowed as she shrugged innocently. "Did I not mention he was joining me for dinner?"

Gwyn attempted to hide a snort behind her glass at Azriel's petulant frown and he turned those narrowed eyes on her just as a short, winged boy, perhaps no older than eight or nine, rounded the corner into the kitchen a bit too quickly. His shoes slipped on the floor and his too big wings flared wide to catch his balance, nearly knocking over a basket of herbs on the wall. 

His mother folded her hands, giving the boy a sharp look. He snapped his wings together, bowing his head slightly. "What did I tell you about running indoors, Shai?"

"Sorry, Mrs. Eliana."

"Just Eliana, dear. I'm not married," she reminded him. His mother smiled softly at the boy and something burned in Azriel's chest.

It wasn't that he didn't like Shai. His constant questions could be a bit overwhelming, but his curiosty was rather refreshing. It was so rare that Azriel met anyone, let alone a child, so wholly unafraid of him or his shadows.

Rather, it was watching the boy interact with his mother that was... difficult. Seeing her dote on him with the sort of affection that had been so long denied to him...

He shook off his darker thoughts as Shai took notice of him when one of his shadows darted out to ruffle the boy's hair. He looked up, face brightening. "Mr Shadowsinger!" Gwyn snorted again. 

"Azriel," he corrected. Shai continued as though he hadn't spoken. 

"I didn't know you were visiting! I wanted to show you my new leathers Mrs. Eliana bought me! I'm to go to the warcamps in the Spring to start training." Shai prattled on but Azriel had stopped listening, though his shadows seemed to be a rapt audience. He glanced over at his mother who's lips had thinned into a hard line. 

They were rather isolated in the village he'd settled her in. A town full of artists and farmers, and other outcasts who did not wish to be apart of the brutal lifestyles of the average Illyrian. Most of the boys in the village never joined the warcamps by choice, though some did. Children like Shai though... He'd been meaning to speak with Rhys about it for a while, but the last few years had been dominated with other, greater concerns.

And, truthfully, he did not wish to involve himself in the matters of his people. Aside from those in this village, and perhaps some of the females and children of the other tribes, he wouldn't care if they all burned. 

Shai suddenly stopped his chattering midstream, eyes widening and cheeks blushing as he seemed to notice the other person in the room. Gwyn set down her glass, smiling warmly at him. He went a bit slackjawed and Azriel felt a brief surge of irrational jealousy before reminding himself that Shai was just a child, and no threat to his beautiful Valkyrie. 

"Ah, yes. I almost forgot," his mother said, eyes twinkling. "Shai, this Azriel's mate-" he cut her another look at the term which she ignored. "Gwyneth. She's a Valkyrie... and a Carynthian." 

Shai's wondrous expression transformed to awed admiration. "Oh wow! Really?!"

Gwyn's cheeks warmed as she nodded. "I am."

For a moment, Shai just gaped, before a stream of questions flowed out of his mouth, this time directed toward Gwyn. Her eyes widened slightly at the friendly interrogation but answered his questions graciously, as best as she could. 

Azriel wanted to lean back in his chair and smirk at her now that the full force of the youngling's enthusiasm had been turned on her, but instead found himself watching in amazement at how effortlessly she handled him. 

Shai and Gwyn chatted all throughout dinner, Azriel entirely forgotten which his shadows seemed to take issue with, jealous that all of the Valkyrie's attention was being taken up by the young boy. By the time his mother managed to shoo him off back to the village, night had long fallen. 

Gwyn stared at the door for a long moment, wearing an expression he couldn't quite read. "His parents do not mind him staying so long for dinner?" she asked. "Or traveling through the woods on his own?"

His mother smiled sadly as she took a seat besdie them. "His mother was a friend of mine-"

"Was?" Gwyn's head snapped around.

"She, unfortunately, did not survive the birth..." His mother bowed her head, running her thumb along the lip of the teacup cradled in her lap. "And his father died in the war with Hybern... He's been living in the children's home in town ever since, but I make regular visits and he took a liking to me." Her smile lightened. "Especially after he learned the famed Shadowsinger was my son."

Azriel rolled his eyes.

"So..." Gwyn frowned, her eyes sad and far away. "He's an orphan?"

"Sadly, yes."

A delicate frown marred her lovely face, causing a tightening in his chest. "What's the matter, dove? Are you thinking of adopting him?" he teased.

Gwyn blinked, teal eyes widening. "Oh, no! No of course not, I-" the rosy hue of her cheeks turned bright red as she glanced briefly at Azriel. "I don't think I'm quite ready for that sort of responsibility."

His mother shot him a grin, winking when he scowled at her. Though, the image of Gwyn with a little winged babe once again flashed in his mind. He shoved it away, ignored his own blush.

"It's just-" Gwyn frowned again. "He reminded me of the children at Sangravah."

Azriel stilled. 

"I never did learn what happened to them-" her eyes squeezed shut, swallowing thickly. 

He laid a hand over the fists balled at her side and pulled her closer. "They survived," he assured her. "All of them. Thanks to you."

She turned pleading eyes on him and he ventured to explain further. "We found them- after. Scared, shaken, but unharmed. The few priestesses who survived, that helped with the rebuild had some of them relocated to other homes since they no longer had the resources to care for them, but many remained."

"They're ok?" she breathed, tears filling her eyes. He cursed himself. The entire point of bringing her here today had been to stop the tears that had plagued her that morning, and here she was, crying again. "All of them?"

He nodded his confirmation and she sobbed, all but throwing herself against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her shaking body, looking helplessly at his mother over her shoulder. His shadows swarmed Gwyn, running soothingly over her hair and shoulders as his mother watched with a sympathetic frown.

"Perhaps you should take her home," she suggested quietly. 

Gwyn pushed off of his chest, wiping her eyes hastily. To his surprise, she was smiling. "No, no. I'm alright. I'm sorry for worrying you I was just overwhelmed." She sniffed, straightening her posture and giving them both a reassuring look. "I hadn't realized I'd been carrying that quite so heavily..." She turned to Azriel, squeezing a hand over his knee. "Thank you."

They only stayed for a few more minutes before deciding to return home. Gwyn walked outside to give him a moment alone with his mother after saying her goodbyes. She wrapped him in his arms and he bent his head to press his face in her hair, to breath in her familiar warm honeyed scent. He knew she was doing the same to him. Even after all these centuries, they both still cherished these little moments as much as they had when he'd been a lonely, terrified boy living in the dark. 

She pulled back eventually, cupping his face in her hands. "I'm glad to see you happy, mo chridhe. You deserve it."

He tried to shy away from her words but she would not allow it, holding his face until he looked at her. "Don't," she said, her voice hard. "At some point, Azriel, you have to have to stop punishing yourself for sins that are not your own."

"It's not just-" he began to protest, but she cut him off. 

It wasn't just about his childhood. As much as he knew it still affected him, he was rational enough - deep down - to realize that the things that happened to him in that house were through no fault of his own. It was all the things he had done since then. All the years he'd worked for Rhysand's father. The things he'd done for this Court and his family...

"No," she said, just as harshly. "It does not matter what you've done... you still deserve to love and be loved. And that girl-" she nodded towards the door Gwyn had disappeared through. "She loves you more than I think you realize. And you love her."

He sighed, unwilling to deny it. "I do."

"Then don't fight it, mo chridhe. Be happy."

He did not have the energy to argue with her so he simply smiled and kissed her temple before joining his girl outside. Gwyn stood a few yards from the house on the drive, staring up at the night sky. Gravel crunched quietly under his boots as he approached her, wrapping his arms around her waist as he too looked up at the stars which had started to make their appearance. Her arms came up to cover his, her head leaning back on his chest.

"For everything she's been through, your mother is... very kind." 

He pulled in a slow breath of freezing air. "It took a long time for her to get there, and she still has her bad days.... I just wish I'd been able to get her out of that hellhole sooner." He had wanted to go back for his mother as soon as he'd finished his training, but Rhysand's father had snapped him up upon learning of his abilities and had not allowed him the freedom to help her. It wasn't until Rhysand took over as High Lord that he had the ability (and the resources) to give her what she needed to heal. 

"You remind me of her," he said. And she did. 

Both females had been through their own hell and had come out the other end kind and hopeful and willing to see the light in others. So unlike his own often pesimistic view of the world in general. He could acknowledge the positive impacts they'd had on his life even as he stubbornly clung to his own anger and bitterness. Perhaps one day, the two of them, together, would convince him to let go, and maybe he'd be better for it. But for now, that anger and bitterness was what kept him going. Kept him fighting. 

Gwyn turned in his arms, wrapping hers around his neck. "Thank you," she said, pressing up to kiss his cheek. "For bringing me here. For letting me meet her. This was excatly what I needed today."

"I love you, Gwyn," he said, returning the kiss. "Happy birthday."

She smiled sadly, but gratefully and laid her head on his chest. "Let's go home."

Notes:

bhobain - as best as I can tell, this roughly translates to "rascal"

I don't usually write stories with children in them, A) because I have none of my own and don't spend much time around others, and B) because I don't want to portray them unrealistically as I've seen sometimes done. I hope I got this one ok.

Chapter 26: Part 2 - Chapter 10

Notes:

Tandem read: This chapter is meant to be before A Court of Light Ch 23, but it was published first and neither really affects the other at this point. The stories will inter connect again in a few chapters.

Gwyn woke the next morning wrapped in Azriel's arms. Her heart still ached with grief but was full of love for this male. Yesterday had been hard. The date had hit her like a stone to the chest and Azriel had been so sweet, caring for her and showering her with affection she knew did not come easy for him. 

She had noticed before they'd gotten together that Azriel tended to shy away from touch and displays of emotion, even with his closest friends. She knew he loved them, but could also tell he had a hard time expressing that love. That he gave it to her so freely was a gift she couldn't fully fathom, but she was so grateful for it. She'd needed it yesterday. Hadn't realized how much she'd been lacking it, even with the love and affection she received from her own friends.

Watching Azriel interact with his mother had been something of a revelation. She'd listened to him explain what life had been like for him as a child, locked in that cell. Had heard him talk about his mother and the hardships she'd been through. Seeing them in person, the connection between them was obvious. Even after having been separated for so long, especially after he'd been sent to the war camp and hadn't been able to help her.

They'd been each other's life lines, she realized. His mother had been his one bright spot each week and he, her reason for enduring the horrible situation she'd found herself in. They had been tethered together by that crucible and she couldn't imagine what it must have been like for both of them to adjust after leaving his father's house, but the way Eliana had overcome it, had clung to her kindness and remained that bright spot was inspirational. 

She wished everyone could see the Azriel he'd been with his mother. The light hearted smile, the teasing jokes, the adoring way he looked at her. It broke her heart to think that even his closest friends might not know that side of him. That while they might know he was not just the terrifying Shadowsinger, they may not fully know who he was deep down. Even she hadn't, not really.

Watching him with Shai had also shown her something new about him. He'd obviously been uncomfortable, unsure how to interact with such an enthusiastic, and energetic youngling, but he'd shown remarkable patience with the young male for all of his grumbling and eye rolling. And it was clear both he and his mother were concerned about the boy's future once he was sent to the war camps. That that lightness in him might be snuffed out by the cruel warlords and harsh environment. 

For a moment, she'd pictured him as a father. She'd seen him with Nyx. The way he didn't look entirely sure of himself when he held the young boy but was so clearly full of awe for the little being in his arms. She pictured a little red-haired girl with wings, Azriel's shadows dancing around her as she watched with wide, hazel eyes. 

The image made her feel hopeful. She'd always loved children but hadn't ever really considered that she might have them some day. It was not uncommon among the priestesses but, as much as she'd loved her mother and sister and her life at the temple, she'd always longed for more and had not wanted the same life for any children she might have. She wanted them to have options she had not had. She'd had no say in joining the priestesshood. She and her sister had been inducted as acolytes nearly as soon as their mother had passed. As awful as the circumstances that had brought her to the Library had been, she would always be grateful for the things it had led to. 

Azriel still slept soundly behind her but she was full of restless energy. She hadn't trained in over a week and was anxious to get back in the ring and to move her body in a different kind of physical activity than she'd been engaged in as of late. 

Slipping carefully out of the bed, a few of Azriel's shadows stirred curiously at the movement but settled when they saw her head towards the bathingroom. She cleaned up and dressed before heading to the dining room. Emerie and Mor waited there, smiling moonily at each other over their breakfast.

"Good morning," she crooned with a grin. "I take it your little secret getaway was pleasant?"

Mor turned a wicked grin on her, her delicate nose wrinkling slightly. "About as good as your week alone went, I'd say. Based on the smell of this place."

Emerie snorted as Gwyn's face flamed. She'd meant to discreetly ask the House to help her mask the scent before everyone returned. She'd indulged Azriel's more primal insticts as he endeavored to mark every room in the House, but she hadn't actually intended to suffocate everyone with their scent. Not to mention she wasn't sure how she felt about the fact they knew exactly what she'd been up to. 

"Did Azriel get any work done this week?" Mor teased. "He does remember he's the Spymaster right? He has spies to manage."

"Er..." Gwyn winced as she considered just how much work Azriel had not done. 

"Of course I remember, Morrigan," a deep voice drawled behind her. Azriel prowled into the room, looking unfairly handsome as he took the seat beside her. 

"Oh?" she asked innocently. "Do tell me, how are things in Illyria lately? Last I heard there was a rebellion brewing?"

Any lingering lightness from the past week abruptly evaporated from the table. Emerie gave Mor a sharp look, but she just held Azriel's hard stare. "You're in a mood this morning." His voice was a low rumble and she could practically feel the tension radiating off of him. She placed a hand on his knee under the table and he stilled somewhat. 

"Rhys sent word this morning," she said, suddenly very serious. "He'll be here soon with some news to share. I was about to go fetch Amren."

That caught Gwyn's attention. If the entire Inner Circle was gathering to hear whatever news the High Lord brought back from Day, it must be serious.

"What happened?" Azriel asked, suddenly on alert. "Is something-"

"Nothing's wrong in Day as far as I know," Mor assured him. "He wouldn't give me any details, but he did say Elain would not be returning with them so I take it things are going well for her there."

"Why didn't he tell me?" Azriel asked as Mor rose from her seat. 

"Probably because you were asleep." A slight smile crept into her tone as she turned and disappeared towards the stairs. Emerie watched her go with a lovestruck expression that made Gwyn smile and they quietly ate while they waited for the others to arrive.

Mor returned not twenty minutes later with a grumpy looking Amren in tow and, within the hour, four people alighted on the balcony outside the dining room, joining them. All of them looked a bit tanner than before and Gwyn could swear she saw a faint line of freckles on Nesta's nose which seemed out of place on her friend's usually flawless complexion. She felt a litle jolt of jealousy that she had been enjoying the sun in Day while it was still freezing in Velaris. Perhaps she'd ask Azriel to take her to visit Day or Summer or one of the warmer courts once whatever was going on in Illyria settled down. 

"Good morning," Rhysand greeted as he escorted his mate to the seat at the head of the table. "Day was beautiful, Elain is well, Helion and his mate seem happy, as does Lucien... sorry to rush through the small talk but we have something to discuss." 

"What happened Rhys?" Azriel questioned as the others settled into seats around the table. 

The High Lord and Lady exchanged a glance. Gwyn noticed too that Nesta and her mate also glanced worriedly at each other before their gazes flitted to her and Azriel. Something unpleasant swirled in her gut. A sense of looming dread for whatever news the High Lord was about to impart. 

"Elain had a vision last night," Rhysand began. The table quieted. "Actually, we think it might have actually been a prophecy. There was something... concrete about her words. It was different from the visions she's made previously."

"Different how?" Amren's sharp gaze was wholly focused on the High Lord.

"Well, for one, this time it seemed as though something was speaking through her rather than Elain simply speaking aloud what she saw. She went into a sort of trance like state, her voice changed and she didn't seem to remember what she'd said though she knew something had happened."

Silver eyes narrowed and blood red nails drummed on the wooden table top. "What exactly did she say?"

Rather than repeating it, Gwyn felt the High Lord's power brush against her mental shields. Judging by the way the other's stiffened slightly, she guessed he'd done so to all of them. She let him in and a moment later, she was sitting at a different table in a white room with brilliant gold gilding on nearly every surface. She was seeing through Rhysand's eyes, she realized. A memory. 

 

He was in conversation with a familiar red-haired male, Lucien, when a clatter to her left brought her attention to Elain who had gone deathly still. Her dark eyes clouded and her expression was vacant as an unearthly voice spoke through her lips. 

 

Wings of death on violet winds.

The angel of death and daughter of day entwined.

She will rise and fall and rise again.

 

Elain's body jolted and with a blink, she was back to herself. Her face paled as she turned to Lucien-

 

The memory moved forward slightly to were Helion explained his theory about the words being a prophecy. Fate, set in stone, and unlike the usually fluid visions more common to Seers. That swirling of dread in her gut intensified as the dining room in the House of Wind returned. 

No one said anything for a long moment. Amren sat back in her seat, staring down at the glass of wine that seemed to have appeared in her hand without anyone noticed. The ruby liquid swirled lightly in the glass as she considered. 

"What does it mean?" Mor was the first to speak.

"That's what we're hoping to figure out between the lot of us. We spent some time discussing it after it happened. We've yet to reach any solid conclusions." Rhysand slipped his hand beneath his mate's wrapping his fingers around her palm. 

Gwyn hadn't realized she was gripping Azriel's knee so hard until he gently pried it off, lacing their fingers together. "Well, the angel of death is Azriel, isn't it?" she asked, feeling him squeeze her hand. "That's what they call him."

Rhysand nodded. "Yes, we guessed that as well. It was the only part of the prophecy that made any immediate sense, but it still tells us very little until we can interpret the rest."

"Who's the daughter of Day?" she asked. "I thought the High Lord had no children. Well, other than Lucien, that is."

He nodded again. "Also something we guessed. Helion confirmed he had no other children, though to be honest, he didn't seem too sure. He also hypothesized that the meaning may not be so literal. The 'daughter of Day' could be descended from any of his people. The phrase might also simply describe her appearance, or power. Morrigan, for example, has often been likened to the sun with her golden hair. And Feyre inherited the ability to 'glow' or emit light."

Gwyn frowned, pondering the numerous interpretations of the phrase. A blonde who glows, was a pretty specific descriptor, but something told her the meaning for this particular part of the puzzle was much simpler. She noticed then, that Nesta, Cassian and Azriel, indeed most of the table was looking at her.

She arched a brow. "What?"

"You glow, Gwyn," Nesta said quietly.

She straightened. "I beg your pardon?" As far as she knew, she'd never 'glowed' in her life.

"When you sing," she explained. "I've seen you, during services, when you sing it's like- your whole body lights up."

Gwyn shook her head. "I'm sure it's just- people only say that in a figurative sense. Like when someone's really happy, or-"

"You do though," Azriel said beside her, frowning thoughtfully as he met Nesta's gaze for a moment before looking at her.

She shook her head again. "I have never glowed when I sang for you. I would remember that. It's usually dark, we'd have both seen it."

He shook his head as well. "No, not when you sing. When you-" he cut off, gaze darting around the table as though remembering they weren't alone. Oh, Mother save her. Was he suggesting she glowed when she climaxed?

Her face reddened. "I do not," she sputtered. Horrified they were even having this conversation as Azriel winced apologetically but nodded.

"You do. Not all the time. I brushed it off at first, thought maybe it was a trick of the light or... the more figurative sense, as you suggested. But, if I'm not the only one who's noticed..."

"Coincidence," she insisted, wishing desperately shift the table's attention from herself. 

She glanced around, looking for someone willing to rescue her and met Amren's assessing gaze. "You're a child of Calanmai, yes?"

Gwyn's heart was racing as she gaze a tight nod. She had to work to control her breathing, feeling like she was on the edge of a panic attack for reasons she didn't fully understand. Either way, she didn't like the direction this conversation was heading.

Especially as she remembered the next words in the prophecy.

She will rise, and fall, and rise again.

"You're sure you don't know who your father is? Or your grandfather? You're more than half High Fae." Amren stated the last as a fact, not just supposition.

"I-" Gwyn's mouth opened and closed as she tried to grasp at words. "I don't know. My mother must have known her father at some point as she lived in the Forest House, but she never said. And she didn't know my father's name, what court he was from, nothing. She never gave us so much as a description of him."

"Your mother lived in the Forest House?" Mor asked, golden brows high. 

"Briefly. She didn't have enough nymph blood in her, I suppose, to live in the rivers, but was eventually sent to the temple. That was... before Amarantha." She'd never understood why the general had left the sacred temples mostly untouched. She wasn't sure if perhaps she'd been trying to garner some goodwill with the priestesses, coax them to her side (they worshiped the same gods in Hybern as in Prythian, after all), or if perhaps the High Priestesses had made some kind of deal with her. She'd heard enough stories about the corruption among them. Nesta had told her about one in particular who had sided with the King willingly. Had been responsible for her and her sister being turned fae.

Mor exchanged a glance with the High Lord who nodded. "I noticed that as well. I'm sure we all did, it was hard not to."

"Noticed what?" she couldn't help but ask. 

Rhysand turned his gaze on her. "That the Vanserras took a particular interest in you before your battle with the former High Lord."

Gwyn frowned. She'd also noticed that. Her mother had never uttered her fathers name. All she'd ever known was that he was a high born male of Autumn. Could he have been a Vanserra? What did it really matter? 

"So?"

Rhysand shrugged. "Just curious, is all." The gleam in his eyes suggested there was more to the observation than mere curiosity. But, that could wait until later. 

"What does any of this have to do with the prophecy? Even if my father was from day-" she continued before anyone could remind her again that she didn't know anything about the male. "I have no magic. Neither did my sister."

"The power could be latent," Amren suggested.

"I'm thirty years old. Wouldn't I know by now?" she argued.

"Magic works differently for those of mixed blood," Amren replied. "And you were conceived on the one night a year when magic is strongest and most unpredictable." The ancient female shrugged, watching her over the lip of her glass as she sipped her wine. It was far too early for drink. The very sight made Gwyn a bit queasy. She felt a brush of something cool across her cheek and realized Azriel's shadows had crept around her shoulders. She'd been leaning into him without meaning to.

Gwyn rubbed her temples. This was all much more excitement than she'd anticipated this morning, especially with how raw she was still feeling from the day before. With a deep sigh, she tried to move the conversation along. "Ok, fine. Let's say the daughter of Day is me. What then? That doesn't explain the rest of the prophecy."

"Yes," Rhys agreed. "That's where I was hoping to use our collective brain power as it were. The beginning with what concerns me the most," he explained. "Wings of death on violet winds sounds very ominous indeed."

There was a long pause as they all considered. Then- "Illyria."

They all turned to Emerie, who shifted in her seat at the attention before straightening her shoulders. "We already know rebellion has been brewing for sometime, perhaps it means a conflict is inevitable." She shrugged. "I'm sure it's not the first time an Illyrian warrior has been described as 'wings of death'. I imagine many of the thick headed males would be rather proud of the moniker."

Rhysand sat back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Beside her, Gwyn felt Azriel tense. He'd had been meant to be monitoring the situation, but had essentially abandoned his duties  for the last week. All so he could bed her. If anything had happened while he'd been distracted, she didn't know how he'd react. She did know that he'd hold himself responsible for it, though.

The High Lord's gaze flicked between Cassian and Azriel. "I think, perhaps, it is time to check in with our newest recruit."

Cassian blinked. "Balthazar?"

Rhys nodded. "Yes. I've set him the task of both observing his own camp for any hints of unrest as well as monitoring any gossip that might blow in from the others. We should see what all he's heard. If there is talk of an attack or other confrontation, I want to get ahead of it. If it is unavoidable as Elain's vision seems to suggest, then at the very least, I want to have a plan in place to deal with a legion of Illyrian warriors."

The general nodded, noting his intention to fly out to the camps that afternoon. 

"What about the last part of the prophecy?" Nesta, who had been sitting quietly for several minutes now, asked. "If Gwyn is the Daughter of Day-"

"We don't know that," Gwyn interjected. She cursed internally, having hoped that talk of the Illyrian rebels might keep their attention away from her. Nesta ignored her.

"Then what does the last part mean? Is she going to die? Be remade like- like we were?" She glanced at her sister. The High Lady's face was solemn, but her blue-grey gaze was fixed on Gwyn.

She was starting to sweat as her previous anxiety rose again. She didn't quite know how she might explain it to any of them. Why she didn't want to know who her father or grandfather were. There had always been something oddly comforting in not knowing. She had always supposed it was the lack of expectations. If she did not know them, she could not be disappointed when they did not want her. If they did not know her, they could not be disappointed that she was not the daughter they might wish for. The very fact that the answer to those questions could be the key to this riddle of a prophecy, that she might be a part of it, and that that part may require her sacrifice... It was more than she could handle right now. Especially after yesterday.

As those around her debated her impending demise and dubious parentage, she could not hear a word. Azriel was growling beside her, at whom, she wasn't sure. Nesta's gaze blazed with silver flames as she demanded they find a way to prevent whatever was coming. Cassian, Mor and Feyre tried to play peacemaker while Amren and Rhysand argued from opposite ends of the table. Only Emerie seemed to notice she was drowning.

Heat surged through her body, making her limbs ache and burn. Sweat dripped from her brow and down her back and her brain took on a fuzzy sort of quality, as though she were treading underwater. Her pulse thundered in her ears like the roaring of waves and pressure seemed to build in her chest until she felt she could not breathe.

Shouts of alarm surrounded her. Most everyone leapt from their seats and through the murkiness in her mind, she could hear someone calling her name.

Rather suddenly, she found herself doused with icy cold water and she sputtered, blinking droplets out of her eyes. The heat of her skin cooled slightly and shivered as she glanced around at the pale faces of her friends.

"No magic, huh?" Only Amren had remained in her seat and now regarded Gwyn with a raised brow over the edge of her wineglass. When Gwyn only blinked at her in confusion, still wondering why she was now wet, Amren's silver eyes flicked down to the table in front of her.

The wood appeared much darker than usual, which was not surprising considering it was now also wet, but when she went to move her hands away from the edge that she had been gripping, it crumbled beneath her fingers to smoldering ash.

Chapter 27: Part 2 - Chapter 11

Notes:

Tandem read: This chapter follows A Court of Light Ch 23

Gwyn stared down at her hands, a horrified expression slowly dawning over her beautiful face. A breath later, she leapt from her chair, the movement so sudden her chair toppled loudly to the ground behind her as she raced out of the room. 

Amren's silver gaze landed on him and Azriel bared his teeth at her as she smirked. No one stopped him as he hurried after Gwyn, though he heard someone, probably Cassian, stop Nesta and Emerie from immediately following him. 

He chased her scent upstairs to the training ring where he found her on her hands and knees, her entire body wreathed in that brilliant blue and gold fire that had surrounded her from before. He kept his distance as he circled around until she could see him, careful to keep his movement slow and obvious. "Gwyn," he said softly.

Her terrified gaze snapped in his direction. She moved to lift her hand, likely to forestall his approach but, as soon as her hand lifted from the clay beneath it, the fire intensified, seeming to shoot from her palm. A scream left her and she hunched over, tucking her hands against her chest. 

Her eyes turned pleading. "Please," she begged. "Stay away. I don't want to hurt you."

Azriel held his hands up in a placating, easy gesture, though his pulse was thundering in his ears and he felt anything but calm. Inching as close as he dared, he lowered to his knees so they were on the same level. Her gaze followed him the whole way, normally teal eyes blazing a brilliant sapphire. His shadows swarmed warily around him as he eyed the flames dancing over her. In his mind, he could almost hear the echoes of his own screams as the flesh melted off his hands. He shivered, feeling a cold sweat breakout over his body, but he would not leave her. Not when she needed him. 

She would not hurt him, not intentionally at least. She was definitely far more terrified right now than he was. She needed him to be strong for her.

"It's alright." he spoke softly, keeping his voice, low and even. "You're alright."

"I can't control it," she sobbed. 

"Yes you can."

Her head shook frantically as she curled tighter in on herself. "No-"

"Yes," he said more firmly, though he still tried to keep his voice even, hoping to appeal to her logical side. "Yes you can. But you have to calm down first. Magic is instinctive, it will react to you and your emotions. If you panic, it will trigger it. It's not quite sentient, it cannot tell you are safe and that no one here will harm you. If you are scared, it will try to protect you. You have to calm down."

Her breath stuttered in gasps and pants. If she didn't get control of herself, she was going to pass out. "I- I can't. I can't. I can't-"

"Gwyneth," he said sharply. Her eyes widened and her mouth snapped shut. "You can do this. It's just like- what is it that you do? The Valkyrie, you said they use- breathing techniques? To help them focus?" He lead her on, pretending he didn't know the term, coaxing her to focus on something other than her panic. 

"M-mind stilling."

He nodded, smiling slightly. "Yes. Mind stilling. Do that. How does it go? In through the nose, out through the mouth?" She nodded. "Seven counts?"

"Six," she corrected, her breathing already slowing. He could see the familiar glint in her eyes when she was presented with a challenge. 

"Right, sorry. Six. Can you do that for me now, dove? All you have to do is breathe, I'll count for you."

Her eyes focused on him as she nodded. He could hear others approaching quietly, watching them, but he didn't acknowledge any of them, keeping his gaze on Gwyn. "Alright. Ready? Breathe in." He counted out loud for her as she sucked in a breath, pausing a second before indicating she should exhale and restarted his count. "Good girl. Do it again."

She did. Again and again at his instruction until she no longer needed his count and slowly, her flames died down. When they were no longer visible, he carefully crawled forward, gathering her against his chest. Her arms wound around him and he could hear her continuing those slow, careful breaths, could feel her heartbeat slowing. The others finally approached as he held her, rubbing his hand on her back as much for his comfort as hers. 

Rhys crouched down beside them and he loosened his hold on Gwyn enough for her to look at him. He smiled gently. "How are you feeling, Gwyneth?"

She took one last breath before answering. "I'm- better."

"Good. No one's upset with you, or scared of you. We were just a bit startled. Feyre wishes me to extend her apologies for dousing you so abruptly." He turned that charming smile of his on her and Azriel heard her release a soft chuckle. 

"It's alright. I probably would have done the same." She unwound her arms from around him, staring down at her hands in a way he was all to familiar with. "I suppose it's a good thing I no longer live in the Library," she joked weakly.

Rhys grinned. "Indeed." He held out a hand to her. "May I? I wish to assess your power."

She hesitated before nodding and holding out her hand to him. Azriel repositioned them so her back was against his chest, his wings curling slightly around them while Rhys took her hand, his dark power reaching out for hers. Blue flames sparked in her palm and she gasped, trying to pull her hand away, but Rhys' darkness wrapped gently around her wrist, holding her in place. 

Azriel knew he wasn't hurting her, but he still found himself fighting his instincts to snatch her away and snarl a warning at his brother. Gwyn remained calm though, watching as the flames danced over her hand, her curiosity getting the better of her. The color, he noted, flickered occasionally to gold and yellow. Never orange or red. He assumed it was related either to whichever Autumn line had sired her mother, or perhaps was a result of whichever line her father had come from. Or some combination of the two.

After a moment, Rhys released her and the flames died away. His gaze flickered up over Azriel's shoulder, likely finding his mate before he smiled at Gwyn again. "You're quite powerful," he said. "I don't think we've seen all of your abilities yet, however. There seems to be something more in you, just beneath the surface, but I can't quite tell what."

Azriel felt Gwyn tense beside him. As curious as she was about any and everything in the world, he knew that, when it came to her own life, Gwyn preferred to have all of the information upfront so she might be as prepared as possible. It was what had driven her to research the Valkyrie as she had, why she trained so hard. She craved control. The fact that she may have some unknowable power in her, frightened her. 

He wondered once again why she had not been so tenacious in learning her own family and history.

As though thinking the same thing, Rhys, who had been carefully studying Gwyn's reaction, glanced at Azriel before saying, "We don't have to if you don't want to... but- it may help to learn more about your parentage if possible. Even if just to know what court your father came from so we might have some idea of what kinds of magic we might be dealing with. Feyre and I would be happy to help you learn to control it... or we might send you to Day to learn with Lucien, who is also a fire wielder."

A snarl built in Azriel's throat at the thought of his Gwyn with the handsome firelord. Irrational, stupid jealousy. The male had a mate of his own, one he was quite happy with, by all accounts. He did not know how much Lucien knew of his past with Elain, did not know if he might not try to seek some kind of retribution by dallying with his female in return. But then, the one thing Azriel had always admired at about the lordling - however begrudgingly- was his loyalty. He would not dishonor his mate in such a way, he knew. And Elain and Gwyn were friends. If nothing else, he would not wish to risk his mate's anger by messing with Gwyn.

Rhys shot him a flat look. "We'll send your bodyguard too, if you wish."

Gwyn chuckled, stroking the arm Azriel had wound protectively around her waist. It soothed him instantly, his shadows stroking her in return. "Thank you, but as much as I would like to see the Day Court, I think I will stay. Lord Lucien is busy training his mate, and I do not wish to impede Elain's progress. I will, however take you up on your offer, I think, if the High Lady is not too busy. She possesses magic from all of the courts, I understand, and it would likely be helpful in discovering where my own magic comes from."

Rhys smiled. "Ever practical, Gwyneth."

Feyre appeared, kneeling beside her mate. "I would be happy to help train you, Gwyn. I remember what it was like learning my own abilities, and I know how brutal these males can be," she flashed a teasing look at Rhys who bared his teeth at her. "-and will not subject you to their methods. We can start whenever you like."

"Thank you," Gwyn bowed her head to Feyre, smiling gratefully. Her lips pressed together a moment as she turned back to Rhys. "As for- my heritage... You have my permission to look if you feel it necessary but- I'm not sure I wish to know- yet..."

Rhys inclined his head. 

Azriel could hear the hesitation in her voice, the slight tremor of something like fear and wondered at it. He would not press her in front of everyone, though. Tonight, once he had her alone, he would see if he might coax the truth from her. 

He wanted her to confide in him, he realized. Not that she never had before, but Gwyn was, so generally, an open book- with him at least. She had never shied away from telling him her thoughts and opinions. Her memories, and her secrets. He knew, however, that there were still parts of herself she had not shared. He had never begrudged her that, especially knowing his own tendency to keep pieces of himself hidden. But lately, he had shared so much of himself with her, had bared his life and his past for her, and wished she might do the same...

Notes:

Tandem read: A Court of Light Ch 24

Chapter 28: Part 2 - Chapter 12

Notes:

Welcome back! So sorry for the long hiatus, I never planned to be gone this long. Thank you so much to everyone who has patiently waited for an update. I intended to upload chapters pretty much as soon as I finish editing them so they should be coming pretty frequently for the foreseeable future!

Gwyn woke to the delicious feel of warm hands on her belly and soft lips on her neck. With a sleepy moan, she reached up to run her fingers through Azriel's hair, encouraging him to continue. To her dismay, he just moved his lips to her ear and said "It's time to get up, dove. Feyre will be here soon to train you."

"Do I have to?" she groaned, only half meaning it. She'd enjoyed working with the High Lady the last several days. Until recently, everything Gwyn knew about magic was pure theory, based on the things she'd read. Now, she had the opportunity to put that knowledge to use as she learned how to control her own magic. The blue and gold flame she wielded was as mesmerizing as it was destructive when she lost control, but Feyre had been teaching her how to use it for more practical things like restraints or how to mold the fire into a weapon. She was particularly fond of the long whip she'd managed to make the day before. Still, there had been no sign of whatever other mysterious magic remained locked inside her.

She felt Azriel smile as he kissed her jaw. "Feyre says you're making good progress, but you still need to work on your control. Your magic tends to get as excited as you- her words."

Gwyn couldn't help a small chuckle as she rolled over in his arms, wrapping her hands around the back of his neck and playing with the hairs there that were now getting long enough to start curling. As much as she liked to play with his hair, she much preferred it short and would have to talk him into a hair cut soon. Maybe he'd let her do it herself. 

She knew exactly what Feyre meant after she'd accidently exploded a rack of weapons yesterday when she'd been celebrating the successful completion of a trick she'd been trying to master.

Still.... slipping a knee over his, and hooking her calf around his to pull him between her thighs, she whined as she kissed him. "I miss you."

They'd both been incredibly busy the last few days between Gwyn's new training, which left her more exhausted than usual, and Azriel's investigations into the situation in Illyria. Despite sharing the same bed every night, she felt like she'd barely seen him, and they hadn't done more than kiss each other goodnight or good morning in days. 

Her entire body flooded with warmth as he kissed her back, but he held a firm grip on her hips, stopping her from taking it any further. "I miss you too, dove," he said. "But you need to train. I want you to have every possible weapon at your disposal. Especially with the current situation."

Well, if that wasn't a bucket of cold water thrown on her mood. She pulled back to look at him, the slight crease between his brows, and tenseness in his shoulders. "You think there's going to be a fight?"

He sighed. "It seems likely. The rebel factions keep growing and more and more people are disappearing from the villages and war camps. Not just males, either. They've started taking girls too. The only question now is when it will happen, and how many will join. Either way, I think we'll need all the help we can get and having all of the Valkyries as ready for battle as possible is important. Mor is helping Emerie and Nesta train the other girls, but now that we know you also have magic, I want to make sure you can use it without hurting anyone. That will be an advantage they don't see coming."

She sighed too, knowing he was right, though she hated the idea of another battle. There had been so much death and violence in the last year, she'd hoped for a longer respite after the fight with Koschei which had been particularly deadly. She still marveled at the fact that the Valkyrie had managed not to lose any of their ranks. The same could not be said for the Illyrians, Deathbringers, and every other legion who'd participated in the battle.  Civil war was not something she looked forward to. 

"Fine. You're right."

Azriel smirked. "Sorry, what was that?"

Scowling, she punched his shoulder, though, from such a close distance, it didn't do much damage and he only laughed and pulled her closer to kiss her. His hand cupped the back of her head, letting the kiss deepen for a moment before pulling back. "How about this. If you go to training, and can show some improvement in your control - and I will get a report from Feyre- then tonight, you'll get a very special reward." His free hand pulled her hips against his very hard cock, insinuating exactly what kind of reward he had in mind.

She grinned. "I'll hold you to that, Shadowsinger."

"Please do," he smirked and patted her ass. "Now come on, up you get."

She groaned and grumbled her protests but did as he said, now full of determination to earn that reward.

---

Gwyn was exhausted and fully drained but she’d achieved her goal. It had taken a good portion of the morning for her to determine how to properly leash her magic but once she’d figured it out, she’d improved exponentially over the remainder of the lesson. She was still far from proficient in her magic and it would take time to build proper stamina and for her to learn her limits, but Feyre had deemed her sufficiently competent to hold her own in battle, though they would continue practicing for as long as possible. 

They still hadn’t determined what other power she held beyond the flames, though they’d tried to coax it with a few experiments. Gwyn theorized that it would materialize with the development of her fire magic. She could only hope it would decide to show itself at a convenient time and not cause her to destroy any more furniture when it did so.

Azriel missed dinner after locking himself in his office for most of the day as he continued to catch up on his reports, so she didn’t see him until dark had fallen. She’d been standing listlessly in the middle of her room, unsure when he would come to bed and what she should do in the meantime, when she heard the soft disruption of air as he winnowed inside. Turning, she found him leaning against her door with a smirk.

“Feyre says you made remarkable progress today.”

She grinned. “Well, I did have some incentive. I believe I was promised a reward?” Gwyn held out a hand, the moment reminiscent of the day she and her sisters had finally conquered the obstacle course which they later learned was in fact the Blood Rite qualifier. Azriel had merely smirked at her but his eyes had been as full of pride then as they were now. He smiled now as though he too recalled the memory. 

It still amazed her sometimes how far they’d come in just a year. 

“So you were.” Pushing off the door, Azriel sauntered over until he stood but a foot in front of her. “I might have a few ideas in mind already but I’m curious what that clever mind of yours might have come up with?”

After a moment’s thought, Gwyn grinned and looked up at the ceiling. “Scissors?” A pair of silver shears appeared in her hand which Azriel peered at with obvious confusion.

“Errr-”

She giggled and pointed the scissors at his hair. As soon as he realized her intentions, the stricken look he gave her almost made her change her mind. “I like it shorter,” she cajoled. “Of course, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, and I don’t have to take all of the length off, but the front is getting so long you keep having to push it out of your eyes.”

Azriel still looked skeptical, his lips pushed out in a slight pout as he examined the front locks that now nearly brushed his cheekbones. Gwyn had one last card to play.

“I’d have to wash your hair first, of course. So, it would involve a naked bath…”

His eyes lit with interest and she laughed, taking his hand and leading him to the bathroom. “Come on, you pervert.”

Azriel scoffed but obediently followed. The house had already filled the tub for them with warm water and a selection of shampoos and hair oils. A snap of her fingers had both of their clothes vanished. Azriel shook his head in amusement. “I’m not sure if I like this new trick of yours or not. I rather enjoy taking your clothes off myself.”

“It has its uses,” She shrugged and pointed to the tub. “In.”

Once in the water, Azriel pulled her into his lap, straddling his hips as she tipped his head back in the water and began lathering shampoo into his hair. She smiled as he closed his eyes letting out a little sigh of pleasure. Of course, he couldn’t simply sit still and let her wash his hair, as evidenced by his wandering hands. She rolled her eyes but allowed it so long as he allowed her to continue washing his hair.

As she smoothed a conditioner through the dark locks, a thought crossed her mind she hadn’t thought to bring up before. “Azriel…”

Hazel eyes blinked open, staring up at her with such blatant adoration she had to pause for a moment to absorb the warm feeling that spread through her. “Are you- does my fire… scare you?”

He stilled beneath her. “Why would you think it would?” His tone was neutral but she could see the uneasy flicker in his eyes. It did bother him, but he wouldn’t admit that to her. 

“It does, I can tell it does… I was thinking- you don’t have to, of course, I’d never make you do anything you didn’t want to but, I thought it might be helpful if… well, if we experimented with it a bit.”

“How do you mean?” he asked warily. 

“Well, I thought if you got used to being near it, even having it touch you, it might not bother you as much.” He couldn’t quite hide his flinch so she quickly continued to explain. “I read about a technique to help those with anxiety and physical triggers to help them overcome those triggers by gradually exposing them to the things that trigger them in a safe, controlled regimen. Kind of like how you and I did with easing me into intimacy?”

She wasn’t sure if he realized how tightly he was gripping her at that moment and his clear anxiety over the subject made her regret bringing it up but then she watched him swallow and peer up at her. 

“I- don’t want to fear your magic, Gwyn. If you think this will help… I- guess we can try.”

Her heart swelled with love for this brave male. She knew his aversion to fire ran deep and with good reason, but he was willing to brave that fear for her. She let a little smile curl her lips and decided to lighten the mood a little. “You know, Feyre taught me how to use the fire without burning. I can even make restraints with it.”

He quirked a brow, clearly attempting to play long with her. “Oh? Are you saying you want to tie me up, Berdara?”

She smirked. “Oh, I don’t know if you’re ready for that. We’ll start slow, let you get used to the heat…” She let a bit of power seep from her hands, running a path down the side of his neck that made him shudder. He caught her hands and pulled them behind her back, a move that pushed her breasts closer to his face.

She giggled as he suckled one of her nipples into his mouth. “Az! I’m not done washing your hair.”

“You can finish in a minute,” he muttered, switching to the other breast. “I’ve been thinking about tasting you all day, I wasn’t expecting you to force me into a haircut as your reward. Just indulge me for a moment and I promise I’ll let you finish.”

Gwyn sighed dramatically but made no complaints as he spent a few minutes lavishing her breasts with attention until he seemed mostly satisfied before letting her rinse his hair as promised. Of course then he just had to bend her over the side of the tub for a quick fuck that flooded the floor with water from all the splashing before he’d let her wrap him in a towel and sit him on a stool to cut his hair. 

She left a little less than an inch at the back of his head, enough that she could still run her fingers through it without it curling against his collar. She then showed her appreciation for his good behavior in sitting still and allowing her to cut his hair by straddling his lap and riding him on the stool until they were both exhausted and flopped into bed together, still naked and a little wet.

Notes:

What do we think of a possible bonus chapter surrounding Gwyn and Az experimenting with fireplay?? 👀

Tandem read:
A Court of Light Chapter 25

Chapter 29: Part 2 - Chapter 13

Notes:

Tandem read:
This follows A Court of Light Ch 25 and runs concurrent with Ch 26

 

We're back to the Illyrian plot. Remember that? 😅
In this particular story, I'm choosing to believe Devlon is a "good guy" though, how true that may be in canon, remains to be seen as we still don't know how far his involvement in what happened with the Blood Rite goes...

A week later, the news they had all been anticipating finally arrived in an unexpected form. The Valkyries were nearing the end of their morning training session when Rhys’ voice suddenly invaded Gwyn’s mind, as well as the other members of the High Lord’s inner circle who happened to be on the roof at that moment. 

“Urgent news. I’ll be arriving at the House of Wind in a moment. If there are any Valkyrie still present you may want to tell them to wait. They’ll want to hear this.”

Gwyn glanced around at the others, a sense of dread filling her. 

Cassian turned to address the Valkyrie. “Training is finished for today. The High Lord will be arriving soon. No one is obligated to stay, but the Valkyrie may wish to be present for the coming meeting.” With that dismissal, several priestesses hurried off back to the library though Ananke, Deirdre and a few others remained behind along with the Illyrians who exchanged stark glances. No doubt they too guessed what news the High Lord had to impart. 

A moment later, several figures could be seen approaching the training ring. Mor dropped into the ring with a graceful landing and immediately moved to Emerie’s side. Feyre followed with Amren and behind her were three more figures. As they approached, she could see one was Rhys along with another Illyrian male she did not recognize and- “Shai?”

The young Illyrian grinned and waved at Gwyn and Azriel, who narrowed his eyes at the boy. The unknown Illyrian stepped forward with an apologetic nod. “He followed me from one of the war camps. I tried to send him back but he was rather insistent. He said he knew you.”

Azriel let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. Gwyn was both impressed and worried in equal measure. It had to have been quite a flight from whichever camp he’d picked him up at. Windhaven she knew was a solid two hours flight without winnowing and for one so young, she was surprised his wings had the stamina to make the trip. Though, given the way they twitched behind his back, drooping slightly, she suspected they were quite exhausted by now. 

Gwyn waved him over and he hurried to her side, throwing his arms around her waist. “Hi Gwyn!”

She couldn’t help but smile as she ruffled his hair. “Hello Shai. It’s nice to see you again, but you shouldn’t have run off like that. It was dangerous.”

He pulled back, nodding sheepishly and stood quietly at her side as Rhys relayed the report he’d just received from the other Illyrian- Balthazar, she now knew. The male who had helped Nesta and Emerie during the Blood Rite before she’d found them. Apparently Rhysand had tasked him with keeping an ear out for rebellious talk in the camps.

“It seems the rebels have finally decided to make their move. Apparently they’d taken refuge around Ramiel, going against their own rules-” this earned an unsettled rustle amongst the Illyrians present. Cassian and Azriel had explained once that it was forbidden to set foot on the sacred mountain outside of the Blood Rite. For these males to have so thoroughly disregarded their own traditions and made the mountain their base was disturbing. 

“They’ve begun moving South through the war camps, picking up additional recruits along the way.” Rhysand turned to Cassian. “You’ll be happy to know that Devlon has no intention of joining them. In fact, in a somewhat surprising twist, it appears he thoroughly disapproves of their cause. While he understands their frustration over the losses they’ve suffered, he recognizes they were an expected consequence of war and believes the further taking of life is not the correct course.”

“What is their plan?” Cassian inquired, looking to the younger warrior. 

“They make for Velaris,” Balthazar answered.

“They can’t get past the barrier,” Nesta frowned. “What would be the point?”

“Actually, they can, or at least, they believe they can.” All eyes turned to Balthazar. “It seems one of the Darkbringers from the Hewn City escaped the purge and ran straight to the rebellion giving them a spell some witch had given them to penetrate the city's wards.”

There was a heavy pause as they all absorbed this news. Gwyn knew at some point in the future, they’d be tracking down this witch, but that was a concern for later.

“They’ll arrive by nightfall,” Balthazar concluded.

It wasn’t yet Spring which meant the sun would be down in a mere few hours. That was all the time they had to prepare for battle. With only the small force they had before them. The rest of the Night Court’s army had turned against them which left the Valkyrie and the people of Velaris to fight for its protection…

Around her, the others began planning and strategizing, trying to determine the best use of the limited resources they had. How to alert the city’s residents and where to station those who would be willing to fight. It was a bleak prospect, but with the combined power of the High Lord’s inner circle, and her own newly discovered powers, they would fight to the end.

At the thought of this being their last moments, Gwyn looked at Azriel, suddenly regretting all the things she still hadn’t said. There wouldn’t be time now. They needed to prepare, even if it was a hopeless effort, just like Sangravah had been. There were people here who needed protecting. They would need to evacuate as many as possible to minimize the losses. She began moving towards Mor when she heard her discussing just that, though she still felt the pull towards Azriel. To take that moment for themselves to say what needed to be said- but she could not be selfish. 

She could feel Azriel’s eyes on her nearly as often as hers strayed back to him while she listened to Mor’s plan to evacuate the more vulnerable citizens and those who would not fight. She tried to pay attention, but her mind seemed to be in a million places at once. It wasn’t just the morbid thought of this being her last day and all the unspoken words. Something had been niggling at her mind since Balthazar had delivered the news.

Across the ring, the sunlight glinting off the amethyst jewels in Amren’s ears in a flash of violet… It hit Gwyn like a stone. Her whole body stilled as the words repeated in her mind, the pieces she’d slowly been collecting finally falling into a completed puzzle.

Mor noticed her distraction. “What is it?” Gwyn felt Azriel swivel her direction at Mor’s words, drawing the other’s attention as well.

She flushed at the attention. “I- Elain’s prophecy. I understand it- mostly. Not that it does us much good now. We already guessed what it meant-”

“All we could really determine was that Azriel was the angel of death, and you were likely the ‘Daughter of Day’, which meant it was mostly about you,” Rhys said. “We can only guess how the last bit was meant to be taken, rise and fall could be interpreted a lot of ways… but you figured out the first part? The wings of death-” She saw the moment he came to the same conclusion. “The Illyrians.”

“Ok…” Cassian said slowly. “But what does violet wind mean?”

“Violet,” Feyre had that far away look Gwyn now recognized she got when envisioning a painting. “The color of dusk… night fall.”

Cassian swore softly. “She was telling us when they would attack. Well- not exactly when, but she knew they’d come by night- like the cowards they are.”

The flapping of wings interrupted their revelations and- “Was that… a whinny?”Emerie asked.

Glancing skyward, they all scattered back as a black pegasus swiftly approached, gracefully alighting in the middle of the training ring carrying Lucien and Elain on its back. For a moment, all Gwyn could do was gape. She’d known the High Lord of Day owned the last pegasus in existence- as far as anyone knew- but she’d never seen them before.

“Oh my gods,” Emerie whispered excitedly. “They’re actually real.”

Gwyn couldn’t help a small chuckle, even as she watched the heir and his mate warily. Elain looked… different. Her skin had a more golden hue to it, she looked as lit by the sun as her mate and, despite her serious expression, she appeared… lighter.

“We came as quickly as we could,” Lucien said as he dismounted, reaching back to lift Elain off the pegasus’ back. They were both dressed in a more relaxed style than she’d last seen them. Was Elain wearing pants?

“Did you have another vision?” Nesta asked her sister, stepping forward. 

“Yes and no,” Elain said as they all gathered around her. “We figured out what the prophecy meant- or at least part of it, thanks to a vision of the Illyrians approaching Velaris.” She looked at Rhys and Feyre with a worried expression. “They got through the wards.”

“Yes,” Rhysand’s tone was grim. “We’ve been informed they’re on their way now, armed with a spell from the witch Keir had been working with to tear down the wards. As it happens, we put together the words of the prophecy a moment before you arrived.”

Lucien nodded, seemingly satisfied they had accomplished their mission of forewarning them. “Helion is preparing a small battalion of Day court soldiers to assist, they should be here soon.”

Rhys looked taken aback. “With the Darkbringers’s former alliance with the Illyrians, most of our forces have turned against us. We will be vastly outnumbered,” he said, speaking aloud the words none of them had been brave enough to say yet. “Helion need not risk his own in this fight.”

Lucien stood taller. “My mate’s family lives in this city. She cares about it, so I do. More than that, whenever I take the throne, I do not wish to be the sort of leader who abandons his allies in their greatest time of need. My father agrees. We will fight with you.”

Rhysand blinked, and Gwyn could see the flicker of respect and gratitude in his gaze. In a lower voice he said- “Feyre and I cannot join this fight as we would wish… you know that. We will do what we can from behind a shield but… you will have to do without us on the ground.”

Lucien nodded. “I know…” He looked over at Elain, their hands reaching for each other. “I need you to watch Elain. We’ve been working on her magic, she’s improved greatly. She can aid you in combat, but I believe she will be most effective in helping to plan and predict assaults. The two of you can relay what you learn from her to the rest of us throughout the city.”

Again, Rhysand looked impressed. Gwyn could only guess that it was rare he met anyone who’s mind seemed to work the way the young heir’s did. The rest of the inner circle seemed equally impressed as they began reworking their strategy to include the addition of forces from Day. 

Within an hour, they were dispersing across the city to begin evacuations and prepare those who wished to remain behind. Rhysand and Feyre returned home to spend a little more time with their son, while Gwyn and Nesta accepted brief kisses from Azriel and Cassian before separating. Cassian to begin distributing weapons, Azriel to assemble what spies he had in the city, Nesta joined Emerie in directing the Valkyrie troops, dividing them into small groups, each defending a different quarter of the city and organizing the fighters on the ground. They would eventually be joined by soldiers from Day as well. Gwyn, meanwhile, joined Mor and Amren in alerting the city’s residents of the coming battle and directing them to the evacuation route which led to the Library where the priestesses had agreed to help shelter those who could not fight. Shai had been sent to join them, complaining about being left out of the fight until Gwyn convinced him that he was needed to help settle the scared children. And Balthazar had returned to Illyria in an attempt to gather any forces who may not agree with the rebels, though it was unlikely many would come to fight against their own people.

The next few hours were a mad dash as the city readied to defend itself once again. Helion arrived with a force fifty strong which greatly eased the other’s minds though it would still be a long and bloody battle. The Illyrians had the aerial advantage which they attempted to mitigate by placing archers at the top of some of the higher buildings. Given that they did not know what other surprises the Illyrians may have for them thanks to their alliance with the Hewn City, Rhysand had ordered everyone remaining to take a vile of the fae bane antidote, in case any of the substance which Beron had traded to Keir had ended up in Illyrian hands. Helion had helped place a second barrier between the city and the outer wards to buy them more time once the Illyrians broke through the first to pick off as many as they could. 

The sun had begun to set and tensions were high as they all waited, watching the sky change color from blue, to pink and orange, and finally, to a deep, hazy purple that spread across the sky from where the sun had disappeared beyond the mountains. Still, there was no sign of an approaching force in any direction. Perhaps Balthazar had been mistaken about when they would arrive? 

Gwyn glanced across the large square she was stationed in, to where Emerie stood on the other side, Mor some distance beyond her. On her left, she could see Nesta several blocks away, and knew Lucien and Amren were somewhere beyond her, along with the High Lord of Day. Azriel stood beside her, Cassian beside Nesta waiting to launch into the air as soon as the wards came down. They, along with the two Valkyrie who could still fly, would be their first line of defense. Mother help them.

Azriel’s fingers laced with hers, his shadows entwining around their hands and drawing her attention. Pulling her close, he leaned down until their foreheads touched, their eyes meeting. “I love you, my Valkyrie.”

Gwyn swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I love you, my Shadowsinger.” 

He smiled as he kissed her, and she again felt all the unspoken words between them bubble to the surface. Her lips parted but, thankfully, before she could say a word, a loud crack rent the air as the wards split open and the sky was covered with a dark cloud as two hundred Illyrians appeared before them.

It seemed the witch had given them more than the power to cleave the wards. Azriel and the others shot into the air, the archer’s call rising up across the city as Gwyn pulled her weapons, allowing her magic to rise to the surface. She found herself grateful in that moment for Helion’s foresight in erecting the second barrier as all hell broke loose.

Notes:

Tandem read: The remaining chapters of both stories occur more or less simultaneously and can be read in whichever order you like

 

A Court of Light Ch 26

Chapter 30: Part 2 - Chapter 14

Notes:

Tandem read:
A Court of Light Ch 26

chapters are concurrent moving forward and can be read in any order

TW: blood, violence, minor character death

Air sawed through her lungs as Gwyn ran through the darkened city streets that were already littered with blood and bodies. Torches and streetlamps flickered around her, illuminating the grim scene. 

The battle had been brutal thus far, but Lucien’s strategy of using Elain’s visions to direct their defense had been working. Then the call had come in just a moment ago that more Illyrians had joined the fight. Not rebels- allies. She was sure they had all begun breathing a little easier. Even if they were still outnumbered, the arrival of the other Illyrians would cause confusion in the air, hopefully distracting some of their attention from the ground for a moment.

Clearing the street she’d been on, Gwyn turned the corner towards where she’d heard sounds of fighting- just in time to watch an Illyrian male with a cruel sneer, slash his blade across Roslin’s throat.

“No!” Gwyn cried, sprinting forward. Fire shot from her fingertips, singing his wings. The male screamed as he reared back, desperately trying to put out the flames and leaving an opening for Gwyn’s dagger which flew straight for his exposed neck. 

Ananke, who had heard her scream and come sprinting from another direction, delivered the killing blow but, as they turned back to Roslin, her sightless eyes were already staring back at them. The cut in her neck had been deep and vicious. She’d bled out in seconds. There had been no hope of saving her. 

For a moment, Gwyn stood frozen, staring down at her, remembering the same blank look on her sister’s face. She’d seen a lot of death since then, but it hadn’t been up close and personal until now. They’d been lucky not to lose any Valkyrie in the battle with Koschei, but in this moment, it was clear that luck had run out. 

She blinked back into the present as Ananke silently knelt down, gently running her fingers down Roslin’s face, closing her eyes. Like this, with her red hair spilling around her pale face, Gwyn was again reminded of the words of the prophecy that had haunted her since she’d heard them. 

She will rise, and fall, and rise again.

She’d never been able to determine what the fall part of the verse meant. But the scene before her felt like a bad omen.

Taking a deep breath, Gwyn forced herself to shake off her thoughts and emotions, carefully taking Ananke’s arm and pulling her to her feet. “We will mourn her,” she promised her friend. “But this battle is far from over.”

Tears streaming down her face, Ananke nodded, blonde locks bobbing behind her. 

Laying a hand on her shoulder, she tried to give her a reassuring smile. “Let’s go.”

They took off through the streets once more, wary of every dark shadow. The black armor the Illyrians wore made them harder to spot now that night had fallen. When they reached an open square full of warriors, they split off, running to aid the Day court soldiers in their glittering armor.

Gwyn managed to take out two Illyrians before she felt a sharp tug in her chest, and her gaze darted upward. High above her, she saw the flash of multiple blue siphons and knew it was Azriel. She’d been trying to avoid looking for him as she began fighting on the ground, not wanting to be distracted by worrying for him. Horror twisted her gut now as, in the light of one of those siphons, she saw arrows pierce his wings, knocking him backward before they folded… and he began plummeting downward towards the inky black waters of the Sidra.

“ Azriel!! ” His name shredded her throat as it escaped in a panicked scream. Without thinking, she began running full tilt for the water’s edge. 

Magic roared through her veins, responding to her emotion before blinding light, as bright as the sun, lit up the square as she watched Azriel hit the surface of the water with a bone breaking splash. Wind rushed around her ears as the river, which had still been several yards away, was suddenly beneath her. She twisted her body as she fell, managing to hit the water head first. 

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected as she jumped in after him. Had it been day time, it would’ve been easier to see beneath the surface, but, as she reached out a hand in front of her, her legs propelling her through the water, she noticed it was glowing, lighting up the dark water around her. It only took a moment to catch up to Azriel where he was slowly sinking to the bottom, his wings and heavy armor dragging him down. She grabbed hold of his hands where they floated listlessly above him and, by sheer force of will, dragged him to the surface.

---

Azriel was weightless, even as pain wrecked his body from the fall. He hovered on the edge of consciousness, fighting against the breathlessness that would see him drowned if he didn’t move right. Fucking. Now.

He felt her then. He wasn’t sure how he knew it was her, but he could feel a tug in his chest like a ribbon was tied around his ribs, the tension growing more taught with every passing second. Then he felt her hands grab hold of him and pull, propelling them upward. The drag of the river’s current was hell on his broken wings but he held on until he felt them break the surface and forced himself to cough.

Air filled his lungs, his ribs screaming in protest. He wasn’t sure how high he’d been when he’d fallen, but he was sure it was higher than he’d ever fallen before. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this much pain, even with the water to break his fall. 

A groan escaped him as she hauled him out of the water onto shore. Agony lanced through his bones with each movement and he wanted to tell her to leave him there, but he knew she wouldn’t. Gwyn was too stubborn by half. He couldn’t hold back a cry as she ripped out each of the arrows piercing his wings. The pain was too great for him to decipher her shaky muttering until he felt her lay a hand over his chest. He managed to lift a hand to cover it, his fingertips brushing something smooth and hard beneath her palm.

Her muttering increased, becoming rhythmic and he realized it was her invoking stone. The one she wore in the locket he’d given her rather than around her forehead like the other priestesses. His chest warmed as magic seeped into his body, spreading through his aching limbs. As he felt the puncture wounds on his wings knitting together, he gathered the strength to open his eyes and look up at her.

The breath froze in his lungs and his heart lurched as he felt a sharp tug and snap, a glowing golden thread reaching between them both. “ Mate .” He croaked the word as his entire world rearranged itself in that single moment. 

If Gwyn felt the same pull, she made no indication that she’d even heard what he’d said. She was so focused on healing him, she didn’t seem to notice much of anything else. 

Slowly, the sounds of battle began seeping back into his awareness, though they sounded far off still. The area around them seemed oddly quiet. He felt more of his pain seep away as broken bones mended and the ache in his body receded. Gently, he pulled her hand away, not wanting her to drain herself healing him fully when he would likely only be injured again before the battle was over.

She sobbed as her eyes finally met his, relief breaking through the panic and she threw herself over him, squeezing him tightly. Azriel wrapped her in his arms, indulging in this moment of peace as the newly awakened bond between them hummed in his chest. Finally, he pulled back, carefully getting to his feet and tugging her up with him. He took a moment to look her over for injury but she appeared unharmed. The bond pulled at him to take her, claim her, but now was not the time so he fought it back, praying they would both see the end of this battle in order to do just that. 

His jaw slackened as he finally took in the city around them. For several blocks, as far as he was able to see, the city appeared to have been scorched. Buildings still stood, but windows had been blown out, doors cracking as though under some great pressure. Blackened stains littered the ground and the only living things he could see were a few random citizens, staring around in fearful awe.

Gwyn too seemed to finally notice their surroundings and went very still.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I- I think I did,” she whispered, trembling slightly. 

Blinking, he glanced back towards her, only noticing now that she was glowing. The words from Elain’s prophecy rang in his head, Daughter of Day. This was the magic that had remained hidden in her the last few weeks. They had all suspected but to now have it confirmed…

He glanced around again and inhaled slowly. This much power… whoever her father was must have been a very powerful fae, likely a member of the court. He doubted it was Helion as the pair shared no features, not like Lucien and Helion did. But it was possible that some relative of his…

Azriel shook off the train of thought, tucking it away to examine later. There was still a battle to finish, and their friends needed them. 

“Roslin,” Gwyn’s voice cracked over the name and Azriel’s attention snapped back to her, dread filling him. “She’s-” A small, broken noise left her and he did not need her to finish. He knew.

He felt a twinge of sympathy, as he always did for fellow soldiers and friends felled in battle. He had not known the priestess well but he had helped train her and knew she and Gwyn had been close. “I’m sorry, mo chridhe .” He started as he realized why that name had felt so natural to him from the first moment he’d given it to her. His heart. His mate. 

Sucking in a shaky breath, he watched her center herself, wiping away her tears and rolling out her shoulders. Staring out at the scorched city around them she said. “We have to return to the fight.”

He wondered that she still had not acknowledged the bond between them, did not even seem to be aware of it the way it tugged at him and concluded it must not have snapped for her yet. Sadness filled him at that, but again, he knew now was not the time to worry about it. Nodding, he checked to see what weapons were still on him, annoyed he had lost the blades that had been in his hands when he’d been struck and instead opted for his sword. Stretching out his wings, he moved them carefully, testing if they were safe to fly before turning back to his mate.

The word clanged through him and he took the opportunity to pull her to him for a deep kiss. A promise that, when this was over, he would make her his in truth. Without another word, he launched into the air, his instinct screaming as he left her on the ground and forced himself to trust that she would be safe.

---

An hour later, the battle began lagging, the sounds of fighting diminishing with every passing minute as they managed to thin the rebel Illyrian numbers enough that many had begun either fleeing or surrendering. 

The Valkyrie and Day court soldiers began rounding up those that remained behind along with the Illyrians who had joined them in the fight, while the city’s citizens, who had also stayed behind, began clearing the city of bodies and debris, transported those who were injured to centralized locations to be seen by healers.

Not long after getting back in the air, Azriel had been struck down again, though luckily he had been much lower to the ground this time. The fall had still broken one of his wings which was incredibly painful, but he was otherwise mostly unharmed. He’d been grounded after that, assisting the ground troops to clear the streets of rebels. He’d thankfully not seen any other fallen Valkyrie, though many were injured. Vera’s clipped wings had been nearly shorn from her back, something he hoped the healer’s would be able to repair. It was bad enough she was unable to use the as they were intended, to lose them entirely… He couldn’t think about it. 

Now, as the last of the rebels in his quadrant had been captured, Azriel began wandering back through the city to where he’d last seen Gwyn, guiding by the tugging of the bond in his chest. Eventually, he spotted a flash of red several blocks away through an opening in an alley and his steps grew faster. Ignoring the agony that screamed through his wings and various injuries as they were jostled by the movement of running, he began calling out to her.

“Azriel!?” the sound of his name on her lips nearly sent him to his knees. He’d known she was still alive simply because he could feel the bond, but the confirmation helped soothe him. He moved faster, feeling her draw closer to him until he saw her emerge on the other end of a square as he stumbled into it. Relief flooded him and for a moment, he just stood there, looking at her while she did the same before they began running to each other. 

She took a few steps in his direction before her entire body jerked, sending her to her knees. He staggered slightly as his mind pieced together the quiet twang and rush of wind he’d heard just a heartbeat before. His shadows became frantic as Gwyn, her face pale and shocked, glanced down at the arrow protruding from her chest.

Her fingers lifted to the wound, drawing away bloodied and she managed to glance up at him, her eyes full of shock and horror before she collapsed. A scream tore from him as the world around him exploded in shadows.

Notes:

Tandem read:
A Court of Light Ch 27 Takes place in the same time frame as A Court of Shadows Ch 31

I'm so sorry!

Chapter 31: Part 2 - Chapter 15

Summary:

Tandem read:
A Court of Light Ch 27 happens in the same time frame

 

TW - sort of? The scene at the end felt a bit dubconish so just a heads up!

Azriel was only vaguely aware of his own movements as he winnowed to Gwyn, catching her as she fell and cradling her in his lap. Pain flared through his broken wing as he curled them around them both, stroking her hair and rocking back and forth. The only sounds Gwyn made were pained, wet breaths as she stared up at him, her eyes glassy. He’d seen enough injuries over his many centuries to know that the blood leaking out of her mouth was not a good sign and yet he was helpless to do anything. He had no healing magic, the most his own magic was good for was basic battlefield patching which could do nothing for internal bleeding. 

 

He screamed through his mind for Rhysand, for Feyre, for anyone. Save her. Help her. Please .

 

I cannot lose her. Not now.

 

Light flared a few feet away, causing his shadows to hiss and he closed his wings more protectively around himself. A moment later, he felt Rhys arrive, pushing his shadows back into submission from where they had shrouded him and Gwyn. And then several hands were pulling him away from her.

 

He fought, screaming and roaring, lashing at the strong arms that held him as he watched Feyre and Lucien take his place. His mate instincts screamed at him not to let the male anywhere near her, though, rationally, he knew that Lucien was also a happily mated male. It was also then that he remembered Lucien had healing magic. That knowledge, along with his brother’s gentle coaxing forced him to calm down enough to watch as they began to work on her, though he strained against the hold. 

 

Gwyn held his stare across the few feet that separated them, the tear running down her cheek gutting him. He couldn’t just see her pain through her eyes, he could feel it through the bond. Could feel her slipping away from him even as he could see the light of Feyre and Lucien’s combined healing magic surrounding the hole in her chest. Could see the blinking of her eyes grow slower, her head rolling listlessly against her shoulder….

 

“No! Gwyn!” his struggles against the hands that held him increased as he felt their bond growing fainter. No, no, no . He would not lose her now. He refused. Reaching down the golden thread that connected them, Azriel grasped ahold of her essence, digging his fingers in, willing them to extend into claws, latching into her soul and refusing to let go. She would stay with him. He would not allow her to leave him.

 

She was his , damn it all. His mate . And he was hers. He would hold her here on this plane through any means necessary, and, once she had pulled through this, he would waste no time claiming her.

 

Gwyn’s body went limp and Azriel strained against Rhys’ hold as the light from Feyre and Lucien began to fade, their already drained magic depleting entirely. There was a roaring in his mind as he watched her unmoving body cradled between them, scanning for the slightest sign of life. She was still here, he could feel her, but she did not move and his heart felt like it was trying to force its way out of his body as he stared at her chest, willing her lungs to breathe. 

 

After an agonizingly long moment, her chest rose and he heard her intake of breath, the sound even and unhindered from the blood that had clogged her lungs before. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. 

 

His body stilled, though he still strained towards her and he was vaguely aware of Feyre and Lucien staggering away from Gwyn as her beautiful ocean eyes finally opened and Azriel realized he had been released, his body propelling forward until she was in his arms again. The bond thrummed urgently between them and there was suddenly only one thought in his mind as his shadows surrounded them, whisking them away, even as he heard others calling after them.

 

—

 

Gwyn groaned as Azriel squeezed her against his chest, dull pain still radiating through her. She’d been brought back from the brink of death but, even as they had begun trying to save her, Gwyn could feel how drained both Feyre and Lucien were. She didn’t need a healer to tell her she wasn’t fully healed. This did not seem to occur to Azriel, who she knew was currently being driven by his instincts.

 

A fact that was greater emphasized as he winnowed them to the House of Wind, landing somewhat roughly on the balcony before he winnowed them again to his room. Even before his shadows had dissipated, she could feel him tugging at the buckles of her leathers, nearly tearing them in his desperation. 

 

She knew what he was after, she too craved it on some level, though it was dulled by her greater desire to sleep. Even so her body responded to him as he quickly stripped her down, his hands a bit rougher than usual in his haste. 

 

“Az,” she rasped through dry lips. “Wait-” Her exhaustion was battling with her desire for him. For the need to feel his skin against hers, to feel his warmth and hear her heart beating with his. She craved that confirmation that she was still alive, just as much as she knew he did. It was the only reason she didn’t fight him as he laid her down and covered her body with his.

 

Azriel seemed deaf to her as his lips sealed over hers, stealing her breath while his hands roamed over her skin, pausing over her heart. His shadows licked over her skin as though they too needed reassurance she was still here. Azriel broke the kiss to travel down her neck where she would undoubtedly be sporting his mark once again by morning. She tried to say his name again, to ask him to slow down, to be gentle with her still aching body but her legs were lifted and parted and he had entered her before she could finish taking a breath to do so.

 

Their joining was swift and almost violent, their more primal instincts driving them as she clawed his back and he bruised her with his grip. He collapsed over her when they were finished, bracing himself on his elbows when she pushed on his chest so she could breathe.

 

Azriel’s expression slackened into one of awe as he looked down at her and she realized she was glowing. “Well… that’s new,” she muttered, bemused.

 

“ Mate ,” he whispered the word reverently, tracing a finger over the fresh scar on her chest, and Gwyn stiffened as it registered.

 

Azriel, of course, did not fail to notice.

 

“Are you displeased?” he asked cautiously. “I know it has not snapped for you yet-” he paused as a shadow brushed against his ear, his gaze sharpening on her.

 

Fuck . He knew. When had it snapped for him? During the battle? Perhaps the trauma of watching her nearly die had brought it to light. Either way, she could tell he knew they were mates, and that she was already aware…. And she had not told him.

 

Slowly raising himself onto his hands and knees above her, Gwyn felt utterly exposed as he stared down at her. “How long?” he asked quietly. “How long have you known?”

 

Damn it. Gwyn could feel sweat prickling her brow as panic swirled through her. Panic she knew he could now feel. Gods damn it all. This was not how she’d intended to have this conversation. And the timing could not have been worse as her body, finally sated, was beginning to give in to the pull of exhaustion once more.

 

“ Az -”

 

“How long?” His words were sharp enough to slice straight through her ribs to her rapidly beating heart. 

 

Gwyn closed her eyes as she felt them begin to burn with tears. He would be furious with her. Still, she managed to say- “Sangravah.”

 

With a growl, she felt him shove off the bed, the sudden withdrawal of his heat leaving her feeling cold. She peeled her eyes open to watch him as he began pacing but, when she tried to rise onto her elbows, her body failed her. So she lay there, helplessly as his wrath lashed at her. 

 

His shadows attempted to soothe him but he batted them away. 

 

“ Sangravah ,” he repeated with an almost hiss. “ Three years . You’ve known for three fucking years. And you said nothing ? After everything- everything we’ve been through the last few months, everything we’ve said…” he turned to face her, his expression a mixture of fire and ice. “Why?”

 

Gwyn couldn’t have answered then if she’d wanted to. Her body betrayed her, every last bit of energy she’d possessed was gone and even moving her lips to explain felt like a monumental task. So she just gazed at him, her eyes pleading with him to understand even as tears spilled down her cheeks. 

 

When she said nothing, Azriel gave a disgusted snort, snatching up his clothes and shoving them back on. Gwyn was helpless to do anything but watch as he continued to rant at her. “I told you that I loved you, that I would do anything for you. I thought we both committed- you asked me when I told you that I wanted to be with you if I would still choose you over my mate, knowing that mate was you - How could you do that to me? Look me right in the face and lie?”

 

She hadn’t lied. She hadn’t told him the truth, but she hadn’t lied. She managed to part her lips but no sound escaped. Nausea churned as she saw his expression morph into something ugly as he watched her struggle. Knowing what he would say- what he would do, before the words left his lips.

 

“I can’t even look at you right now.” Turning on his heel, he strode for the open window, stepping out into the night air, the beating of his wings booming in the silence. She couldn’t even muster the strength to turn her head and watch him go, she was so tired. 

 

One of his shadows brushed against her cheek before disappearing with its master, leaving Gwyn naked and alone. Her body still too broken to chase after him as she felt the bond between them stretch painfully, longing to be completed.

 

She did not even have the strength to cry as she allowed the darkness pulling at the edge of her consciousness to win.

—

Gwyn awoke with her chest still aching though she no longer felt the sharp pain that had made it difficult to breathe. The first thing she noticed was that she was cold, freezing really, lying naked in Azriel’s bed though he was not beside her as usual. 

 

And then her memories returned to her and her breath was stolen from her once more as she curled onto her side and began sobbing.

 

Nesta and Emerie eventually come to check on her when both she and Azriel had failed to leave their room for the second day in a row. Gwyn had healed enough to drag herself to the bath to wash off the dirt, blood and river water she had acquired during the battle. The house had once again tried to send her things to cheer her up and food to build her strength but she had only managed a few bites of soup before curling up into a ball wearing one of Azriel’s shirts and clutching the stuffed pegasus it had given her, and that was how her friends had found her, sobbing into the sheets that still smelled of him.

 

To say they had been angry would be an understatement. 

 

Both females had stayed long enough to force a meal down Gwyn’s throat before giving her a sleeping tonic and putting her back to bed. When Gwyn woke again, she was still alone and, while she felt much better physically, she still had no motivation to leave the bed. 

 

She had been staring at the wall, contemplating all the choices she had made that had led her to this moment and if, perhaps, other courses of action might have been more prudent, when Elain stopped by with her mate in tow. 

 

Vanserra… she was a Vanserra… Sort of. Her mother had been a Vanserra and she still did not know the identity of her own father- was still unsure if she wanted to know- but Lucien informing her that she was, in fact, his niece filled in a lot of blanks for her. After dropping that bomb on her, Lucien and Elain had invited her to join them on their trip to Autumn where she might meet and get to know her grandfather and his family. Gwyn had still been too shocked by the revelation to answer right away and she could see the disappointment on Lucien's face as he thought she was rejecting her heritage.

 

Few would condemn her for it, she knew. Especially in the Night Court. The Vanserras had a long and storied reputation full of brutality and cruelty, thanks in large part to the former High Lord. Gwyn had some difficulty reconciling her soft, free spirited mother with such a legacy, and yet, Gwyn had less difficulty reconciling some of her own darkness with that lineage. 

 

Lucien had begun to stand to leave her in her misery when she finally opened her mouth and croaked, “When do you leave?”

 

Elain had mercifully asked no questions as she helped Gwyn groom herself into a socially acceptable appearance and pack a small trunk with a few dresses and clothing appropriate for the cool climate in Autumn. If she was still weak enough to necessitate leaning on Elain a bit as they walked into the living room to meet Lucien, her friend kindly said nothing.

 

Lucien held out his arm, offering her his support as well as he led them both out of the House. It was strange to think of him as her uncle, this male she had heard so much of and had only met in passing- to think that she had been so close to family all this time without knowing…

 

After a quick stop by the River House to say goodbye in which Nesta and Emerie had given her bone crushing hugs and threatened Lucien within an inch of his life to return her safely, he once again offered his arm and after a brief hesitation, she took it.

 

Gwyn had seen the concerned looks on the faces of the High Lord and his friends. Worry for Azriel as well as herself. The pain and sympathy in both Rhysand and Cassian’s faces had almost made her change her mind about going. But, she had come to a decision in those long hours she’d spent crying…

 

For centuries now, Azriel’s friends had been dancing around his outbursts and volatile temper, allowing him to rage and brood while avoiding any hard topics or confrontations on his behavior. And while she didn’t doubt they loved him and that that dynamic had allowed them all to remain relatively harmonious, Gwyn knew that if they had any hope of a future together, she could not allow him to do the same with her. Otherwise he would simply run every time they fought or tried to have a difficult discussion and they would never make any progress.

 

So, while she was still hurting at his abandonment, and as much as she wanted to stay there in his room, surrounded by the comfort of his scent until he deigned to return, she knew she needed to do this for herself. Not only to learn more about the remaining family she still possessed, but to give her a chance to gain some distance and perspective on how (or if) she wished to move forward with their relationship.

 

“Ready?” Lucien asked softly. 

 

With one last glance at her sisters, Gwyn nodded and the world around her disappeared, replaced a moment later by fire.

Notes:

End of Part 2!

Chapter 32: Part 3- Chapter 1

It hadn’t taken Azriel more than twenty minutes after launching out of his window to calm down enough to realize he had royally fucked up.

He could only imagine the sort of lectures he would get when he returned. Undoubtedly they would all take Gwyn’s side- nevermind the fact that Rhys had also kept the bond from Feyre and everyone had backed her up. Rhys in particular was protective of Gwyn, not to mention Nesta and Emerie…

The thought alone of having to face them all kept Azriel flying well into the night. By the time the sun had risen once again Azriel had completely depleted what energy he had left and was not at all surprised to find himself approaching a familiar house, surrounded by still dormant rose bushes. He was even less surprised to find his mother waiting for him at the door with hands on her hips and a stern but sympathetic expression. 

Rhys must have given her a heads up and she thankfully made no comment on whatever she’d been told as she ushered him inside, fussing over him as she quickly had him stripped down and put to bed. 

He woke in the morning to freshly laundered attire, and the smell of cooking bacon. Downstairs he found his mother in the kitchen, removing a freshly baked loaf of bread from the oven and wordlessly moved to the stove to check on the bacon and begin on a pan of eggs. They worked in companionable silence until they sat down to eat and his mother, predictably, broke the silence.

“So… she’s your mate.”

It was not a question, and he almost smiled at the smug tone that said she’d been proven right about something. He’d known when he had brought Gwyn to meet her that his mother had suspected there was something much deeper between them than just lovers. It was still a bit mind boggling that, even after years of praying to find that same soul deep bond his brothers had, that he hadn’t noticed the signs of the one he shared with Gwyn. It was glaringly obvious now, almost embarrassingly so. 

He had been drawn to her from the moment they met, had dreamed about her even before he’d known her name when she’d still been another anonymous female he’d saved. The way he’d found himself attracted to everything about her, how her very presence made him feel more grounded and at ease- how even his shadows had felt the connection. 

They had been rather peeved at him from the moment he left Gwyn, refusing to whisper a single note to him as he’d flown, leaving him with a jarring silence he hadn’t heard since he was a boy. 

“Yes,” he muttered, not looking at her. His gaze was laser focused on his plate even as he could feel hers burning into him.

“So why are you here then?”

Azriel froze, exhaling sharply. Leave it to his mother to cut right to the heart of the matter. Setting down the half eaten biscuit in his hand, he leaned back in his seat, his wings drooping dejectedly on the floor. “She didn’t tell me,” he muttered, still not looking at his mother. “She knew we were mates since the beginning, and she never said a word.” 

He thought back to the conversation they’d had in the shower all those weeks ago when he told her he wanted to be with her and she asked what he would do if he found his mate. She had known. She had known she was his mate and still asked him that. Why? Had she been testing him? To what end? He had already pledged himself to her, handed her his heart, why hadn’t she told him then?

All great questions you can ask when you go back to her , his shadows whispered, breaking their silence.

His mother said nothing for a long moment. “I’m sure she had her reasons…”

Azriel scoffed at that. “What reasons?”

“Rhys-” his mother began, meaning to point out Rhys had done the exact same thing but-

“That is not the same. Feyre was born human, they have no concept of mates. And when they met, she was with someone else. Gwyn was born fae, she knows how sacred mate bonds are. She was the one who sought out this relationship.”

“There are many reasons a female may not wish to bind herself to a male…” his mother’s quiet tone made him still. Finally looking up at her, he could see the sadness in her eyes, the remnants of old, deep rooted fear. Fear his father had put there.

Anger surged through him before he could fully temper it. “I am not some brute who would lock her away or abuse her. Have I not given her full freedom to do as she wishes? Have I not allowed her to run around putting herself in danger-”

“Therein is the problem, I think,” his mother interrupted. “You allowed her? You gave her freedom? She is not a possession mo chridhe , she is her own person with autonomy, thoughts and opinions of her own. You don’t allow her to do anything. How do you think your brother’s mates would react if they spoke of them that way?”

Heat suffused Azriel’s face, shame washing through him in a rush that was simultaneously burning hot and freezing cold. It made him feel sick. That was exactly how his father had viewed his mother and they had not even been mated. Was he any better for thinking such things? What did it matter if he never harmed or laid a hand on her if he treated her as less than himself? Something to be controlled. Tamed.

He never wanted that. Gwyn’s spirit was what he loved best about her. How she defied and challenged him. How she did not let him get away with anything. He never wanted to dampen that spark…

His devastation must have showed on his face as his mother reached across the table, taking his hand and squeezing it tightly. “You are not your father mo chridhe . I do not mean to imply as much. You are not cruel or cowardly. But you are stubborn and overly protective. Not necessarily bad things, as long as you keep them under regulation.”

“I don’t want to possess her,” he said even as some primal instinct denied that truth. Some part of him wanted to hoard her away for himself even as the rational part of his mind knew that would only drive her away. “I just- I thought… I thought we were honest with each other….”

“I’m sure she did not mean to hurt you -. If there is one thing I do not doubt, it is that that girl loves you, wholly and completely. But I cannot begin to guess what her reasons are for not telling you. That is something only she can explain.”

Azriel sighed, his shoulders feeling heavy. He knew he needed to go back. To apologize for leaving, to make sure she was alright. He had nearly lost her for good and just as quickly abandoned her. He did not wish to contemplate how she must be feeling. They needed to have a very long discussion but- “I’m not ready to go back,” he confessed.

She gave him a small smile. “That’s fine. You stay here while you gather your thoughts but - do not wait too long.”

Azriel nodded and they lapsed into silence once more, returning to their meals when a thought suddenly occurred to him. He chuckled softly. “You won’t believe who showed up in Velaris…”

---

Azriel hid out in his mother’s home for another two days before finally mustering the courage to fly home. He promised his mother to send Shae to her once he returned so she could be sure he was well before sending him back to his camp, as well as promising to bring Gwyn for another visit once they had worked through everything and made him swear to wait until she could attend a mating ceremony before sweeping her off to secure the bond.

When he finally returned to the House of Wind, however, it was to find Gwyn gone and a very angry Valkyrie ready to kick his ass.

Notes:

The rest of the chapters for both stories run concurrent and can be read in any order with minor spoilers

A Court of Light Ch 28

Chapter 33: Part 3 - Chapter 2

Notes:

Tandem read:
remaining chapters of both stories can be read in any order with minor spoilers
A Court of Light Ch 28

And now, a brief detour to the Autumn Court 🍁🍂

Gwyn knew the moment they arrived in Autumn. Not just because of the distinct change in scenery, but because some small part of her seemed to recognize these lands. There was also the fact that, as soon as she opened her eyes, she came face to face with a male who looked so like the one at her side, there was no denying their connection. 

“Andre.” Lucien greeted his brother stiffly and Gwyn immediately tensed. This wasn’t just any Vanserra brother.

This was her grandfather.

Andre replied curtly but his gaze was fixed firmly on Gwyn and, for a long moment, they did nothing but study each other. Her mother had had the same fiery red hair, a trait she now knew came from Lucien’s mother, and not Beron. Her eyes had not been quite the same shade of amber, but she could see the resemblance even through his more rough hewn features that were not as elegant as his brother’s. 

As she stared at him, she could feel the power in her blood answering to the call of the fire in his own. 

After a moment, he bowed his head slightly. “My lady.”

“I’m not a lady,” she blurted, watching a scowl flash over his face.

“You are the great grandaughter of a High Lord-” he ground out before stopping himself. Gwyn bristled at his tone and he sighed through his nose before turning his attention finally to her companions. “We can discuss this later.”

Turning her face away from him, Gwyn took a moment to study the forest around her while he continued to snipe at his brother. Thus far, her impressions of Autumn were… lukewarm at best. 

Feeling a slight tug on her arm, Geyn faced forward again as they were lead through the trees to the towering stone mansion she recognized as the Forest House, Autumn’s seat of power. Autumn was just as beautiful as expected, with its brilliant colors in vibrant shades of red, gold and green. Its people, however, seemed as cool and unwelcoming as others always said. She did not miss the way people stared as they made their way through the courtyard, the whispering and narrowed eyes. Not one fae they passed offered so much as a smile. 

Andre said nothing as he stalked ahead of them, guiding them towards a wood paneled room with a roaring fire filled with the scent of woodsmoke and whiskey. They had barely stepped through the door when they were suddenly besieged by massive hounds. Lucien was knocked to the ground and Gwyn was only spared the same fate as one of the hounds stepped behind her, nosing her back to her feet when she stumbled as half a dozen beasts sniffed at her skirts and rubbed against her sides, whining softly.

With a sharp whistle, they were recalled to their master.

Eris stood from his seat near the fire and casually approached. The look he gave his brother as Elain helped him to his feet was full of some hopeful emotion she couldn’t quite place, while his lips tipped into an almost mischievous smirk when he looked to her. Before she knew what was happening, he had her hand in his and was bringing it to his lips. “Hello Valkyrie. We meet again.”

“High Lord,” she said, dipping into a slight curtsey. His eyes sparkled.

“Oh, there’s no need for such formality, niece. Not with family.”

“I’m not sure she’s decided to claim you all just yet,” Lucien said, straightening his jacket.

Eris’ smirk grew. “Well now, we shall have to see about that.” Winking, he released her hand and turned to greet Elain.

A fair skinned female with flaming red hair she recognized as Lucien’s mother appeared before Gwyn, smiling brightly as she pulled her into a hug. Momentarily stunned, she did not immediately react, though the other female did not seem to mind. “I’m sorry we were not formally introduced when we last met, Gwyneth. I wish I had known then what you were to my son.”

Gwyn smiled. “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady.”

“Oh please, call me Anwyn,” the lady said, waving her off as she took her arm. She leaned in with a conspiratorial grin. “Unless you prefer grandma.”

This startled a laugh out of Gwyn which seemed to please her and before she knew it, Gwyn was being led before a group of nearly identical males. The tallest was introduced as Tahlin, the next youngest of the Vanserra brothers, who gave her charming grin. That one, she could tell, was dangerous. The handsomest of them barely concealed a sneer as he glanced her over. Conall was his name. She made note to stay far away from that one. He seemed inclined to do the same.

Andre’s gaze was once again intent on her as Anwyn made the brief introductions before seeming to notice her fatigue and leading her over to where Lucien and Elain stood with Eris. “You know my oldest already,” Anwyn said as they approached. Eris gave her another wink as he handed a glass to his mother and held another out to Gwyn. Smiling slightly, she shook her head. As tired as she was, she had a feeling even a sip of alcohol would have her passing out. Both brothers seemed to notice this as Anwyn whisked Elain away and Eris politely offered to show her to her room so she could rest. She gratefully took his arm and smiled reassuringly at Lucien who allowed his brother to escort her.

“I hope my brother’s behaved,” Eris inquired as they made their way up a staircase to what she was informed was the family wing. 

Gwyn began to nod but paused as she remembered the look Conall had given her. Without saying a word, Eris sighed, seeming to read her thoughts. “I’m afraid my brother may need to be dealt with sooner rather than later. I had hoped that, with our father gone, he might…”He paused, closing his eyes briefly. “I suppose some things can’t be unlearned.”

Gwyn was silent, momentarily stunned at the casual way Eris spoke about murdering one of his brothers. Though, she supposed, given everything she’d heard about this male and his family, she shouldn’t have been surprised. She must have shown something of her thoughts on her face because Eris stopped walking and turned to face her.

“I am not my father,” he said fervently. “I have no intention of beginning another reign of terror. The people of Autumn have suffered long enough under my father’s hands. I intend to be different. But… Before I can begin doing the things I wish to do, I need to make sure that those who share the same mentality as him do not have the power to exert their will and cause trouble. Including my brothers… It pains me to think my mother may soon lose yet another son but…” she could easily read the emotion on his face. He did not relish the idea of killing his own brother, but he would.

Gwyn laid a hand on his arm, doing her best to convey her understanding without words. Eris seemed to accept it, nodding and patting her hand before turning back down the hall again. They stopped in front of an elegantly carved mahogany door which opened to a well appointed bedchamber draped in rich green velvet and copper. A cheery fire crackled in the hearth, eating away the autumn chill. 

“My brother’s rooms are upstairs, though the rest of your party should have rooms nearby. My own quarters are on the other side of the wing. If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask. If you aren’t feeling up to joining us for dinner, you can request a tray sent up. I-” he hesitated a moment, prompting Gwyn to turn from her inspection of the room to look at him. “I hope you will be comfortable here. Despite our reputation, my brothers are not so bad… it would be nice to have another female around.”

“You have Elain.”

Eris smiled. “Yes, my sister is a welcome addition to the family. I think she will give my brothers a run for their money but… you’re blood. I understand the Night Court is your home but I hope that you might one day consider Autumn your home as well.”

The smile that tilted Gwyn’s lips was genuine. With a bow, Eris left her to her own devices.

---

The smile melted off her face as Gwyn found herself alone once again, the grief and loneliness that had plagued her for days creeping back again. Closing her eyes, Gwyn carefully navigated her way down the bond that had been her quiet comfort for years. The distance between them made the connection somewhat strained, but she could feel him on the other end of that golden tether, stronger than ever. The ache in her chest eased slightly at the reassurance of his presence somewhere in the world. 

Opening her eyes once more, Gwyn let her curiosity take over and began poking about the room, examining the various knick knacks, each tastefully chosen and she wondered idly if the former Lady of Autumn had been the one to choose them. Opening the doors to the massive oak wardrobe, she was surprised to find her things unpacked and hung inside, the trunk tucked neatly into the bottom corner. Lucien had been with her from the moment she left the Night Court, how had he managed to have her trunk sent here? A mystery for later.

Ignoring the clothes, she reached into the trunk for the small collection of books she had brought along, a few novels she hadn’t had the time to read while she’d been busy training with Feyre. Selecting one, she moved to the cushy armchair set near the fire and curled up to read. She had barely made it ten pages before there was a soft knock at the door.

Thinking it was Elain coming to check on her, Gwyn marked her place with her finger and rose to answer. It was not Elain waiting on the other side however.

“Hi,” Andre said, somewhat awkwardly. Once again she found herself the object of his intent study and allowed herself to do the same.

Standing this close to him, she noticed details she hadn’t before. The freckles that dotted his face, less noticeable than her own, the small scar on the corner of his jaw, the strands of brown in his close cropped hair, his slightly crooked nose. There was a roughness about him that reminded her somewhat of Cassian. A warrior. This male was a soldier.

Clearing his throat, Andre’s gaze shifted behind her to the room she’d been given. “Are you- comfortable? Do you have everything you need?”

His voice was a soft rumble that was surprisingly comforting and, despite herself, she felt herself relaxing. “Yes, thank you.”

Andre nodded absently, shifting on his feet. “Can I- would it be alright if we-” he stumbled over his words and Gwyn realized he was nervous, more so than she was, which relaxed her even more. It was… endearing.

Taking pity on him, she stepped back, opening the door further in silent invitation. She heard him sigh in relief as he stepped inside. Catching sight of a passing servant, Gwyn ordered a tray of tea before returning to her seat by the fire. 

She waited patiently while Andre paced before the fireplace. The tea arrived and he settled himself enough to sit across from her as she poured, noting with interest that they both took their tea the same way, plenty of sugar and a twist of lemon. Watching her over the rim of his cup, she saw a flicker of sadness as he finally said- “I wish I could say you look just like your mother, but the last time I saw her she was still a child…”

Gwyn stilled, recalling a hazy image of her mother’s face. “Truthfully, I haven’t seen her since I was a child either, but the priestesses always said I was her image. Though, her eyes were different, like yours. Catrin and I must have inherited ours from whoever our father was.”

A furrow formed between his brows. “Catrin?”

She froze, her heart racing and old grief stirring in her chest. “Catrin… was my twin.”

Shock and grief slackened his face. She could tell he wanted to ask what happened, but mercifully did not as she was not sure she could explain any of what happened right now without breaking down. She was already feeling too fragile; this would send her over the edge. 

Suddenly, Gwyn felt a wave of exhaustion hit her, her entire body felt as heavy as a millstone. She knew it showed on her face, in her entire being. She wanted to curl up in a ball right here and sleep for a century. Perhaps, when she woke, her life would seem less bleak.

“Forgive me,” Andre said, coming quickly to his feet. “You must be exhausted. I heard of the battle with Illyria and I understand you and your Valkyries played a major role. You must still be recovering. I know it took me an entire week to feel whole again after my first battle.”

It was not the first battle Gwyn had fought in, which he undoubtedly knew though she appreciated the excuse. How he’d known she was a Valkyrie she could only guess. What had Lucien said Andre’s position in the Autumn court was? Was he the general or the spymaster? She nearly snorted at the irony that her grandfather and her mate would both be spymasters and mortal enemies. How fitting.

“Yes,” she said, swallowing a groan as she pulled herself to stand. “I admit I am still a bit fatigued.”

He nodded and moved towards her door. “I will leave you to rest. I’m sure Eris already told you but do not feel obligated to join us for dinner if you do not wish. I- I hope we will still have many opportunities to speak more later…”

Gwyn nodded, smiling weakly.

Andre had just reached the door, pausing before turning back to her, his expression earnest. “I understand that my brothers and I have a certain… reputation. Especially among the Night Court. However… I promise we are not as bad as all that…”

Gwyn stared at him for a long moment before dipping her head in acknowledgement. Andre gave her one last hesitant smile and left the room.

Notes:

A Court of Light Ch 29

Chapter 34: Part 3 - Chapter 3

Notes:

Tandem read:
remaining chapters of both stories can be read in any order with minor spoilers
A Court of Light Ch 29

Gwyn woke the next morning to a note from Rhysand informing her that Azriel had returned and, while he had been informed where she had gone, had been forbidden to leave. Rhysand encouraged her to take as much time as she needed in Autumn and that, when she was ready, he would personally retrieve her. She had sighed in relief to know that Azriel was safely home though her anger at him for leaving so abruptly had flared to life once more and she decided in that moment to stay at least a full week in Autumn just to spite him.

She knew a fight awaited them both when she returned and did not feel the need to hasten its occurrence.

The next few days were, on the whole, rather pleasant. She spent time getting to know her new found family and, other than a few minor incidents with Connall, things had gone smoothly.

Lucien, perhaps unsurprisingly, was the one she got along with the best, though Tahlin, once he began to thaw, was an amusing companion. Anwyn had readily adopted her as another daughter alongside Elain and had doted on her with so much affection it was almost as embarrassing as it was comforting. Helion had been very welcoming, the two of them delighting in teasing the Vanserra brothers any chance they got. He had even invited her to visit the Day Court in the future when she was ready to explore her fathers heritage. He had a few theories, he had told her, but would not know anything definitely until he returned to his own court and could properly research it.

Eris, despite the picture she’d often heard painted of him by the members of Rhysand’s inner circle, had been everything charming and agreeable. He’d made an exerted effort to make her feel comfortable in Autumn and to hint that, no matter what happened, she would always be welcome in his court. She had no intention of leaving the Night Court permanently, but it was nice to know she would have a safe place to retreat if she needed it.

As for Andre…

She currently strolled through the golden forests of Autumn at her grandfather’s side. The past quarter hour had been mostly silent, though not uncomfortably so. Over the last few days, they had been slowly getting to know one another and had formed a tentative sort of friendship. There were still many questions burning unsaid between them and she wondered which of them would have the courage to ask them first.

“I loved her, you know,” Andre said suddenly, breaking the silence. Gwyn halted her steps, and turned to look at him. Andre stopped with her but did not turn to face her.

“My- my grandmother?” she asked, unsure.

He grimaced slightly. “No. Truthfully, I hardly knew her. We met during one of our Equinox festivals. What a nymph from Spring was doing in Autumn, I’m not entirely sure, but this was shortly before Under the Mountain when Amarantha’s curse kept Spring’s inhabitants bound to their territory or imprisoned them… I never did learn what became of her…”

Even looking at his profile, she could see the guilt etched on his face before he finally faced her. “I meant your mother… When she was first brought to me- well to be honest, I was terrified. My father had a particular disgust for the so called ‘lesser’ fae and I knew that if he found out about her… well, I’m sure you can guess what might have happened.”

She shivered at the gravity in his gaze. She could indeed guess. Even in Sangravah, they had heard tales of Beron and his sons. Though she suspected now that many of the crimes committed by the brothers were done so on the orders of their father and likely against their own inclination or will. 

“Still, from the moment I saw her…” some intense emotion washed over his features, twisting her heart in her chest. “She was mine. I wish I could have given her the life she deserved but it was too dangerous. There were a few servants below stairs who were loyal to my mother who helped me hide her among them for a few weeks until I could figure out where to send her that she would be safely out of Beron’s grasp.”

Which was how she ended up in Sangravah. Gwyn had always wondered what her free spirited, but sweet tempered mother had done that had been enough to banish her from her home. It relieved her in a way to know it had been no wrong doing on her mother’s part, but simply a plot for her safety. As much as it pained her to think of the life she might have had had she been allowed to remain in Autumn with her father. Then again… perhaps if she had, Gwyn and Catrin might never have been born…

That was a rabbit hole she did not need to begin spiraling down.

“For the first few months, the priestesses would give me updates on her growth. But once some of Beron’s spies were spotted poking around a nearby village, it was agreed she was safer if all communication was broken… I always regretted that I did not know what had happened to her after that, but I could not have bared what might have happened to her if I put her in danger for my own peace of mind…”

His gaze was intent on her, expectant and Gwyn swallowed back her welling grief to give him the answers he sought. “She was, by all accounts, very happy in Sangravah… I wish I could tell you more. The stress of carrying twins took its toll on her and she was very weak after Catrin and I were born. We were about seven when she passed, but her body never really recovered from it. Our birth, as I understand it, was rather difficult. The priestesses used to say we came in like a storm. It’s certainly how they used to describe Catrin. She was just as free-spirited as our mother, but more headstrong. Moody and temperamental but she was fiercely loyal. And brave…” Gwyn felt tears clogging her throat as she thought back to those last moments before she’d run into the fray. She preferred to remember Catrin that way, her face full of fierce determination, not unlike her new friends. “So brave.”

“What happened to her?” Andre asked softly but hesitantly. She knew he could tell her end had not been as peaceful as their mothers.

Gwyn’s arms wound around her stomach suddenly feeling cold despite the layers of wool and fur she wore. Her gaze fixed on a distant patch of sunlight peeking through the leaves as she determined what to tell him. How much to tell him…

“When Hybern was seeking the cauldron… he raided several temples looking for fragments of it. Including Sangravah…” 

Andre sucked in a sharp breath, his posture turning rigid and she knew he needed no further explanation. Thankfully.

“And you survived…” he said after a long moment, his tone was sad but almost wondering. His gaze had turned distant. Pained. “I had wondered how you came to be in the Night Court. I had heard many years ago that Rhysand had created a refuge for- females in his court but, given the court’s wider reputation it had always been hard to credit. I suppose that makes you living proof- of a sort.”

He looked at her again and smiled slightly at her puzzled look. “Perhaps you did not know I have acted as the Autumn Court’s spymaster for nearly three hundred years. Much like your Shadowsinger.” Dark amusement filled his expression at her widening eyes.

“You know?”

“I suspected,” he shrugged. “But my mother confirmed it a few days ago. I’d had reports, particularly from Eris the night our father died, about a red haired Valkyrie the Shadowsinger had shown a strong partiality towards. Azriel, you must know, is known for his coldness. The only female anyone has seen him show any feeling towards is the Morrigan, in over five hundred years. So, naturally, when he was seen expressing a protective, possessiveness towards another… it was noteworthy, to say the least. Of course, at the time, I did not know that female was my own granddaughter.”

He seemed to grow larger then, more menacing, all the classic signs of a protective male and Gwyn rolled her eyes. “Don’t you start, too. I am fully grown- and fully trained. I don’t need you to protect me, I have quite enough overbearing males in my life already, thank you very much.”

“Yes,” Andre smiled then. It was a smile full of pride as he turned a sly look at her. “A Valkyrie and a Carynthian, I hear. I would love to hear that story.”

Grinning back at him, Gwyn resumed their walk, Andre following as she regaled him with stories of her Valkyrie sisters. Their training, their exploits in the Blood Rite and the handful of battles they had already participated in and Andre listened with that same proud smile, asking questions with a fervent curiosity that matched her own.

When they finally returned to the Forest House, they found the rest of the family in the same parlor she had first met them in. Minus Elain and Lucien that was, as they were informed by a beaming Anwyn that Elain had finally accepted the bond and the pair had swept off to no one knew where for a few days of privacy. 

The mention of the bond sent a pang through Gwyn and she swore she felt the slightest tug on the thread connecting her to her own mate. She had feel this mounting frustration and restlessness the last few days and knew that she would need to return sooner rather than later for the inevitable confrontation. Tomorrow, she decided. She would write to Rhysand in the morning to return her Night after she spoke with Eris to warn him.

Just then, Conall, reeking of whiskey, stumbled into her path with a sneer. “You’re still here. I would’ve thought when our mongrel brother left with his little human mate you’d finally be gone too.”

The entire room was suddenly full of silent, thrumming tension. Andre subtly stepped between Gwyn and his brother but Gwyn had had just about enough of this miserable male. Her hand secreted into the pocket of her cloak to the dagger strapped there while Conall turned his sneer on his brother.

“I don’t know why you’re bothering to defend her. Father would have-”

“Father is no longer here,” Andre said with cold menace. “In case you have not noticed. And no one here shares your disgusting notions brother. So I suggest you keep them to yourself, or go.”

“Or what?” Conall’s lip curled. “ What will you do about it, little brother?”

“I wouldn’t be quite as worried about Andre, brother, as the many others in this very room who happen to take issue with the vitriol you’re currently spitting,” drawled Eris from somewhere behind Conall. His tone was deceptively calm but she could feel the High Lord’s power rippling through the room. 

“I don’t give a fuck about the little whore,” Conall spat. The room was suddenly several degrees warmer as six pairs of eyes glared at the belligerent male. “Neither should any of you. Her bastard mother should have been culled the day she was born.”

A growl rippled out of Andre, fire dancing along his fingers. Gwyn subtly angled her body, withdrawing the dagger Azriel had given her after her first battle, flipping the point of the blade between her fingers. 

“Careful brother,” Eris continued to taunt, near invisible flames covered his entire body and Gwyn had no idea how the entire room hadn’t burned to the ground already. “Our Gwyneth is a Valkyrie and Carynthian. Trained by the Lord of Bloodshed himself. And her Shadowsinger mate.. Personally, I think she’s the person you should be most terrified of in this room.”

Conall scoffed but before he could spew another venomous word, Gwyn’s dagger flew, bringing the room to a halt as it thudded into the wood panel of the far wall. For a long moment, no one spoke as a lock of Auburn hair fluttered to the ground… followed by several drops of crimson blood. 

Conall lifted a stunned hand to his ear where the tip had just been shorn off. Hissing, he burst into flames as he glared at Gwyn. “ You bitch .” He made to draw a weapon in the same moment that Andre stepped fully in front of her. 

She didn’t bother to roll her eyes at his overprotectiveness as she deftly stepped around him, knocking Conall’s weapon away with a swift hit and kicking his feet out from underneath him. She did not need any of them to fight this battle for her. She may be younger but she’d known from the moment she met the male that she far outmatched him in power. 

To prove just that, a whip of gold flame shot from her fingertips, wrapping around Connall’s throat, stealing his air and snuffing out his own pitiful orange flames.

Choking and clawing at the vice around his neck that tightened the more he struggled, Conall nevertheless continued to glare at her with pure hatred. A look she returned with her own righteous fury. 

It took a moment for Gwyn to realize the entire room was on its feet. Except for Eris, who remained lounging in his seat by the fire, chuckling softly. Glancing around, she saw the fearful gaze of Tahlin, whose eyes were frantically skipping around the room, unsure of what to do. Andre shot her the same proud smile he'd worn earlier as she told him about her time as a Valkyrie before glaring murder at his brother. Helion seemed torn between fury and amusement, but it was the look on Anwyn’s face that stopped Gwyn in her tracks. 

The former Lady of Autumn gazed at her son with a look of sad acceptance, even as tears tracked over her cheeks. As though she knew this moment was inevitable. That her second eldest was too much like his father and would eventually find himself at an early end. It saddened her, draining away a good portion of her anger. 

Looking back at the male at her feet, she decided she would not be the one to end him. Remembering Eris’ words the day she had arrived, she would leave him to the mercy of his brother. Releasing her power, she backed away from him as Andre hauled him to his feet, restraining his arms behind him as he was marched from the room. 

She watched him go, snarling and spitting insults the whole way and decided that yes, she had had quite enough of Autumn for now. It was time to go home.

Notes:

A Court of Light Ch 30

Chapter 35: Part 3 - Chapter 4

Notes:

Tandem read:
remaining chapters of both stories can be read in any order with minor spoilers
A Court of Light Ch 30

Azriel was losing his damned mind.

It had been almost ten days since he'd last seen Gwyn. Ten days since he’d found out she was his mate. Ten days since he realized she’d known all along and kept it from him. Ten days since he'd almost lost her…

Rhys had grounded him as soon as he returned, confining him to the House with magic so he couldn't chase after her in Autumn. The new wards had been laced into the existing ones already surrounding the House of Wind so he at least was able to do a bit of flying within their bounds when he wasn’t exhausting himself in the training ring to try and settle his restless mind, but it wasn’t far. He ended up just flying in small circles around the cliffside like an idiot but it was better than nothing. The physical exertion seemed to be the only thing capable of drowning out the constant thrumming of the bond, however temporarily.

He’d tried to get past the wards several times in the hours after they’d first been set. Had nearly broken half the bones in his body when he slammed into the invisible wall trying to fly out and his shadows had refused to winnow him. For the first time since he was a child, he found himself without them for long periods of time as they sulked in Gwyn’s room, snooping through her things and refusing to speak to him like petulant children. 

He’d barely slept in days, the words of his mother, and Cassian, and Rhys and Nesta and everyone who had either scolded him for leaving Gwyn or tried to talk him down from his more paranoid thoughts and overwhelming instincts were swirling in his mind on a loop. He still hadn’t reached any conclusions… mostly because he was barely able to think straight. Not just from sheer exhaustion, but the unbearable throbbing weight of the bond that kept trying to pull him towards his mate, demanding he find her, claim her…

Shaking his head, he cleared away the unrelenting chant in his head and refocused on the target before him. The pull of the bond had become increasingly worse throughout the day and he was now in the training ring again, sword in hand and hacking away at the wooden dummy before him. He hadn’t bothered with his training leathers as the night was unseasonably warm. Hadn’t even bothered with a shirt or boots and was training barefoot in just a simple pair of linen pants. The feel of the cool clay beneath his feet helped ground him, focus him even when he swore he caught slight whiffs of her scent floating to him on the night wind. Probably his shadows tormenting him- again.

Azriel was losing his damned mind.

But- no. That wasn’t just a whiff this time. Azriel froze, raising his head to scent the air. She was here…

Spinning around, he found her leaning against the wall in the entrance to the training ring, arms crossed over her chest as she watched him. For a long moment, all he could do was stare at her, his eyes roaming over every inch of her. She looked… good. A healthy pink in her cheeks, a slight glow to her hair. She was dressed in a maroon sweater and suede leggings, soft leather boots laced up to her knees. She looked- alive.

He almost fell to his knees in relief, remembering how weak she’d been when he’d last seen her. She said nothing as she stood there, just studied him in return before pushing off the wall and slowly approaching him. Lowering his sword, he felt his shadows returning to him finally, several of them wrapping themselves around the hilt of his weapon and tossing it quietly aside. 

Neither of them said a word as she stopped a few feet away from him, her eyes wary. “Are you done sulking?” she asked.

Just like that, his anger flared to life again. “Are you done lying to me?”

“I never lied to you-”

“A lie of omission is still a lie, Gwyn.”

“And you’re telling me you’ve been 100% honest with me?” she asked, fire sparking in her gaze. Yes. He’d missed this. Missed that fire, that spirit that challenged and pushed him. They both squared up, ready for a fight.

“I keep secrets because I have to. Because it’s what I’ve been trained to do. Because it keeps everyone safe. What excuse do you have for keeping this from me? From not telling me you’ve known all along what we were to each other? Why would you let me believe my mate might still be out there?”

“Because I wanted you to want me !” she cried, throwing her hands out to the side.

“Wh-what? Of course I wanted you- I-”

“No, Az. You’re not hearing me. I wanted you to want me. Not the bond. Me .”

Azriel had no response for that. He wasn't entirely sure he understood what she meant if he was honest. But Gwyn wasn’t done. 

“Imagine if you will,” she said, beginning to pace in front of him. “You wake up one night, unsure what it was that woke you up. You’re disoriented, and confused, and then scared, because you hear screaming. You hear clashing metal and all sorts of awful sounds. You’re not sure what’s happening, but you know it’s bad.”

Azriel stilled, his whole body tensing as he listened, knowing what she was about to tell him. She was describing the night they’d met. The worst moment of her life that had seemed like just another mission to him at the time…

“Your sister pulls you out of bed and tells you your home is under attack. People are dying. People you’ve known your entire life. People who cared for you and raised you and taught you everything you know… She tells you she’s going to join the fight- and shoves you in the other direction because someone has to help the children. You want to argue, but she’s already gone and you can hear the intruders getting closer, so you do as she says…. You get those kids out, all while hearing the screams of your friends dying, having no idea who's still with you and who’s been lost. Having no idea if your sister is still alive.”

“Then- you hear them. The soldiers. They’ve found you and it’s too late to run. So you do the only thing you can do. You make sure they won’t find the children and prepare to accept your fate. You would protect those children with your life… you don’t expect to lose your sister, the only family you have left, in the process. Don’t expect to lose the last of your innocence- to have it ripped from you, violently , against your will.”

His stomach was churning with nausea, he was going to be sick. He’d known what had happened of course, it wasn’t the first time they’d talked about it, but he’d never heard her speak about it so plainly. In such stark detail…

“You fight with everything you have but you’re weak, you have no skills, no training, no strength. They overpower you and you've lost all control. You can feel everything. The pain, the blood, the bruises- all of it. Just when you think it’s over, they switch places and another gets ready to do it all over again and you realize it will never end. It will go on and on until they get what they want or they tire of you, and then you’ll be gone, just like your sister…”

He could feel the hitch in her voice, the sheer anguish. Gods he really was going to be sick.. Azriel swiped a hand over his mouth, swallowing down his horror as he forced himself to listen. He’d wanted her to open up to him, but hadn;t expected to feel as though he’d been gutted.

Gwyn stopped pacing but didn’t turn to him, she just stared at the far wall, her expression a mix of emotions he couldn't quite read.

“And then- suddenly it’s like the world slows down to a single moment. The room is full of shadows and now it’s the soldiers who are screaming. Those hands holding you down are gone and all you can hear is panicked shouts, steel on flesh- all you can see is shadows and flashes of blue light- and the most beautiful male you’ve ever seen. The shadows clear and you can see him fully. He’s massive, and winged and terrifying- but not to you. No, he is those soldiers' worst nightmare, but to you- he’s your savior.”

“The fighting and the screaming stops as the last male falls and the shadows retreat completely… and then he turns to look at you, and something snaps in your chest and- you know…. “

Azriel couldn’t breathe as she finally turned to look at him, teal eyes swimming with emotion. He was surprised he was still standing, that there wasn’t a massive hole in his chest because he was pretty sure she’d just ripped his heart out, that it was now beating weakly in her delicate hands.

“I had no idea who you were, not really. I knew you by reputation, anyone would’ve. You were the Shadowsinger, the SpyMaster of the Night Court, the terrifying Illyrian nightmare… and my mate. I could barely process it at the time, too overwhelmed by grief and in excruciating pain and yet I could feel the bond pulling me towards you. I think you could feel it too on some level, the way you came right to me, still covered in the blood of my enemies, the males you’d slaughtered. You gave me your cloak, wrapped me in it, you were so soft and gentle, I wanted to weep…”

A tear slipped down her cheek and he watched it fall, unable to make his body move to swipe it away. His shadows moved for him and she smiled at them just as she had that night when they’d done the same thing. He hadn’t even realized he remembered that tiny detail. 

She was right though, he had felt it that night. The bond. It hadn’t snapped for him yet, but his subconscious had known on some level what she was to him, had wanted to protect her. It was what had driven him to kill without pause. It had been so unlike him not to leave at least someone alive. He needed information and you couldn’t pull it from a dead man. But that night, he hadn’t cared. Hadn’t been able to explain it to anyone afterward, even himself.

“Then Mor was there, and she was taking me from you and I was too weak to fight it.” She sighed, running a hand over the loose braid she wore. “In the end, it ended up being a good thing. Because once I got here, and the shock wore off… I was a mess. I was barely coherent the first few days, and little more than a zombie for most of that first year. I was barely alive- so many times I came close to ending it because I didn’t know how to deal with it all and then I would feel you… Through the bond, I’d feel your anger or your humor or whatever it was you were feeling in that moment and I didn’t feel so alone anymore. It helped me hang on.”

“One day, a few months later, just after I started working for Merrill, I was having a bad day. Merrill was being impossible and I was stressed out and on the verge of crying when I saw something in the corner of my eye… a shadow- just an ordinary shadow, I thought, and then it moved. And I knew you were there. Somewhere in the library, you were there. I dropped everything and followed the bond and I saw you standing at the front desk with Clotho, speaking quietly. I had no idea what you were saying, probably inquiring where to find a book but I just stood there and watched you even though you didn’t see me… You kept coming backa nd your shadows kept finding me and I would just watch you from a distance. Eventually, I met Nesta and- well you know the rest…”

He understood now. Even without her telling him, he understood what she hadn’t said. The reason she hadn’t told him right away. She was scared. Not of him, necessarily, but males in general, perhaps. Just like all the other priestesses. She wasn’t ready yet, not for all the things a mating bond would entail. It was why it had taken three years for her to even tell him she wanted to try to have sex again…

“I-” his voice came out as a croak and he cleared his throat, trying again. “I get why you didn’t tell me in the beginning. But why, after everything we had done together, all the confessions I had made, after I told you how I felt, why wouldn’t you tell me then?” He tried to keep his tone soft but there was just the slightest hint of resentment he couldn’t quite cover. 

Gwyn’s eyes narrowed at it. “I told you, I wanted to know it was me you wanted. That you weren’t choosing me by default because you realized what we were to each other.”

“What does that even mean?” he growled, frustrated.

“It means,” she growled back. “That after listening to you confess your feelings for Mor and Elain- after hearing you lament that the bond never snapped for you with Mor, that you wish it had been you and not Lucien- I wanted to know that the bond was secondary to your feelings for me. That what you felt wasn’t driven by your desire for a mate.”

Azriel rocked back on his heels as though he'd been slapped. “Do you really think me so shallow?”

Gwyn’s lips twisted together as she shrugged.

Suddenly, he was on her, her braid gripped in his fist, coming undone beneath his fingers as he tilted her head back, his lips brushed over hers as he grabbed her hips and hauled her against him, relishing the way her breath hitched in a little shocked gasp. “You question my feelings, little dove? You think I care less about you because you’re my mate?”

He saw the challenge flash in her eyes, heating his blood in anticipation. “I think you're an arrogant male who thinks you can have me just because the mother thought to pair us together. That you won’t have to work for it- I’ll just fall at your feet…”

He shivered as her lips brushed over his. “You think I won’t work for you?”

The fire in her eyes cooled for a second. “You left me.”

Closing his eyes, he let her feel every ounce of his guilt through the bond as he laid his forehead against hers. “I know, mo chridhe . I’m so sorry. I was wrong.”

He heard her inhale sharply. “Say that again.”

Azriel smiled, willing to humble himself in this moment- just for her. “I was wrong.”

“Prove it,” she breathed. Azriel’s eyes snapped open. “Fight for me.”

She flashed him a devilish grin, his only warning as her knee swung upwards. He just barely managed to shift his hips away in time to avoid the cheap shot, but not fast enough to miss the fist in his side.

Stumbling back, he watched her fall into a fighting stance and felt his shadows’ excitement. A wild grin spread over his face as he stretched his neck side to side and prepared to fight for his mate.

With a cry, she charged him, surprising him for a beat but he easily blocked the combo she launched at him, managing to snag the back of her sweater as she tried to dance away. In their usual sparring, she would’ve called him out for cheating but this was not training and he would pull every dirty trick he knew to win. He smiled at her grunt of frustration as she was jerked to a stop. She twisted and then the sweater went slack in hands and he realized she’d slipped out of it, leaving her grinning at him- topless.

Fuck . Momentarily distracted by her breasts, and the new scar that now lay between them,  he took a booted foot to his leg, falling to one knee. Catching her fist as it came for his face, he pulled Gwyn to the ground, rolling over her. She managed to get a foot up before he could pin her, wedging it against his hip and flipping him over her head.

He heard the sharp ripping of fabric and glanced down to see his pants still intact, before the sound was followed by a curse from Gwyn. Rolling to his feet, he couldn’t help but laugh as he realized her leggings were split along the seam. “Ready for me already, mate?”

She bared her teeth at his taunting. “I wouldn’t dare make it so easy for you.”

“Give in, Gwyneth. Maybe I’ll go easy on you.”

She laughed sharply. “Only in your dreams would I ever give in to you, Shadowsinger.”

“You have before,” he let his gaze rove over her, tongue rolling over his lips pointedly. “I’m pretty sure you liked it if the way you screamed my name was any indication.”

An animalistic snarl ripped through the training ring as she lunged at him again and they were a blur of fists and kicks. A knife he hadn’t seen her carrying sliced through the leg of his pants, deftly avoiding his skin as it tore from hip to ankle and he knew it had been deliberate as she grinned. Shrugging, he tore his pants the rest of the way off, delighting in her shocked expression as she stared at his hard cock. 

“You’re enjoying this entirely too much.”

“Are you really surprised? Arguing may be Nesta and Cassian’s foreplay, but competition is ours. The way you fight me as though we don’t both know I’ll be the one on top in the end.”

“Well,” she said, glancing down at her torn leggings, boots and bra. “From where I’m standing, it looks like I’m winning.”

“Oh sweetheart, we’re just getting started.” 

Azriel’s wings flared wide, distracting Gwyn as he lunged forward, tackling her at the waist. She pivoted beneath him, attempting to crawl from under him before he pinned her and they wrestled on the ground until he had one of her legs bent to the side, pinned by his shadows as his fingers slipped into her panties. He let the full weight of his upper body smother her chest into the ground. With a flick of his wrist, he tore through the lace of her underwear, his cock resting heavily against her soaked pussy.

Taking a wrist in each hand, he pinned them to the ground above her head and whispered in her ear. “Surrender.”

“ Never ,” she spat through gritted teeth, even as her hips rocked against him. 

Transferring both wrists to one hand, he reached down to free her breasts from her bra, flinging the scrap of fabric aside. Palming one of her breasts, he scraped his teeth over her shoulder feeling her shiver and arch beneath him. His cock brushed against her clit as she moved beneath him. 

He licked up the side of her neck, nipping her ear between his teeth. “ Surrender ,” he demanded again.

“No,” she whimpered, shoving her hips against his cock. He had to swallow a moan.

Usually, he loved her resistance, craved the way she made him work at it, forcing her to the brink of sanity before she gave them both what they wanted. Right now though, after all these days of uncertainty, he needed her submission. Needed her to show him she wanted this.

Wanted him.

His hand slid from her breast, over her chest and throat to grip her chin and turn her face towards him. Licking along her jaw, he sucked her lower lip into his mouth, relishing her whimpers. “Surrender, mate- and I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

“I hate you,” she breathed.

He smiled at the familiar refrain. “No you don’t,” he whispered back.

She whined low, resisting only a minute more until his cock notched against her entrance, nudging gently. “ Please ,” she breathed.

“Say it.” He nudged her again and she almost sobbed. 

“Az- please."

“Say it,” he growled.

“Oh Gods- please. I surrender! Please, please- oh!” She cried out as he thrust into her and Azriel had to pause, holding himself still buried within her finally- she felt too good. After ten days of waiting and being forced to fight for her, he would make this count.

Hips moving in short, small thrusts, he let the tension build between them until he felt every last bit of resistance leave her body as she surrendered to him. Arching back, he rolled her onto her side beneath him, wedging his hips between her legs as he wrapped one around his waist, the angle new and unbelievably good. Hand still at her throat, he forced her gaze up towards his, watching her watch him as he fucked her- claimed her.

Mate, mate, mate .

“Mine,” he growled, leaning down so their face were inches apart.

“ Mine ,” she echoed, power sparking in her gaze as her hand wrapped over his throat too. 

He felt it ripple through him as she claimed him in return. They were both lost to sensation after that, their mating rough and primal, utterly fae as they tore at each other until they were bloody and sated. His shadows transported them into his bed as they tangled together, breaths ragged and hearts racing. 

At some point, the rest of Gwyn’s clothes had disappeared but he couldn’t have said how it happened. He almost laughed as he imagined Cassian finding their torn and bloody things strewn about the ring in the morning and wondering what had happened between them. 

“I’m still mad at you for leaving,” Gwyn said, stroking his hair away from his face where it rested between her breasts. 

Turning to press a kiss to the scar across her chest he murmured back, “I know. And I’m still mad at you for not telling me.”

“Mmm,” Gwyn hummed softly. “I suppose that makes us even.”

Azriel huffed a laugh. “I’m not sure I follow your logic, priestess, but if it means we’re done fighting, I’ll accept it.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said through a yawn. “I think I like fighting with you.”

A groan rumbled through Azriel’s chest. “Let’s not make a habit of it. I promise I can pleasure you without the need for violence. Unless you ask for it, of course.” He punctuated this with a halfhearted spank against the side of her ass, grinning as she giggled. He’d missed that sound. 

“Later… tomorrow…” her hand patted his shoulder weakly before going limp. Glancing up, Azriel’s mouth parted as he realized she’d passed out- mid sentence. His shadows tittered in amusement, settling around them like a blanket and he nestled his head back against her chest. 

He knew there was still more for them to talk about. Things they would argue about. He wasn’t sure if they’d ever stop fighting, but as long as they were fighting for each other, he would happily go to the mat with her time and time again.

“Are you done being mad at me?” he asked his shadows.

Our mate is back .

“She’s my mate-”

Our mate , they insisted and he smiled. 

“Fine, our mate.”

Our mate has returned. She has accepted us.

“She hasn’t accepted yet. Just decided not to kick us to the curb. We still have some work to do before we can convince her of that.”

She will accept us, they said confidently. She is our mate and we are hers. She will accept.

“Yes,” he said, letting his eyes close and preparing to give into the sleep he’d been resisting for days. “I hope she will.”

Notes:

FYI, in case you didn't guess, When Gwyn mentions seeing Az in the library a fw months after her arrival, this is when Az keeps going there to figure out what's going on with Elain 😆🤡

I know a lot of you probably wanted more groveling from Az and don’t worry, he will I just won’t be writing it on page but I do plan to touch on it in the epilogue. Man needs to work on his communication skills smh

A Court of Light Epilogue

Chapter 36: Part 3 - Chapter 5

Notes:

I'll be honest, I tried about a half dozen times to write this epilogue but It never felt right so I decided it needed another chapter first. Hopefully this does it! 😅

Azriel woke the next morning to a stiff cock and an empty bed. Reaching through the bond, he located Gwyn in her own room and then found himself barred from winnowing in by a ward that had not been there before. His shadows prodded at it curiously, making hissing sounds of dismay when they recognized his mate’s magic woven into the wards. Apparently, Gwyn had learned a few things from Helion while she was away. 

Dragging his tired body out of bed, he groaned as he stretched aching muscles. He suddenly regretted spending so much time in the training ring the last several days, deciding that bedding his mate now that she had returned was a much better use of his strength. Determined to correct that as soon as possible, he quickly pulled on a pair of loose pants and knocked on Gwyn’s door. She opened it fully dressed for the day and leaning against the frame as though to block his entry.

Frowning, Azriel glanced pointedly behind her at the bed. His heart sank when he saw the trunk laying at the foot of her bed. She had just returned from Autumn, surely she wasn’t leaving him again? He knew Helion had extended an invitation to Day for her to learn more about that side of her magic, but as far as he knew, the High Lord was still in Autumn with his mate and son. But why had she left his bed so early? Her things would have waited for her to put them away later if she were simply unpacking. Hell, the House probably would have put them away for her, freshly laundered. “Are you going somewhere?” he asked, looking down at the sweater and leggings she wore tucked into tall boots. 

Gwyn shrugged. “I thought I might see if Nesta wanted to do some shopping. After seeing the fashions of the Autumn court, my wardrobe feels woefully deficient for a princess.”

“A princess?” Azriel’s brows shot up. He knew her grandfather was, by birth, a prince, but when had the royals of Autumn ever acknowledged their illegitimate offspring? Let alone allotted them titles?

He watched Gwyn’s face twitch before settling into a cool mask. “Andre was rather insistent I be extended a courtesy title, despite my protests and Eris agreed a bit too easily. He seems to enjoy causing a stir. Did you know he was gay?”

Azriel blinked. Mentally reviewing everything he knew about the new High Lord, a clearer picture began to settle in his mind. “That… makes an odd sort of sense. How did you know?”

Gwyn shrugged again. “He introduced me to his lover before I left. I think he planned to tell the rest of his family that night before Lucien and Elain ran off-”

“Ran off?”

She smirked. “Apparently, Elain finally decided to accept the bond and they ‘disappeared’ together. His mother was ecstatic and didn’t seem to expect them back for several days. It felt a little strange being there without the two of them as a buffer, especially after what happened with Connall-”

“What happened with Connall?” He snapped, shadows swarming protectively. Azriel was not as well acquainted with the younger Vanserra but he knew enough about his reputation to make his hackles rise. As much as people liked to claim Eris was the cruelest of the brothers, Azriel had seen the result of Connall’s cruelty first hand. The male was a sadist and word had it he’d been even worse since Tamlin had killed his twin for crossing his borders the day Lucien had been exiled. 

“Did he hurt you?” Azriel demanded, scanning her body despite the fact nearly every inch was covered. He tried to think back to the night before, when he’d had her naked beneath him if there had been any visible marks on her but could not recall. His thoughts had been otherwise occupied.

“No, he didn’t hurt me,” Gwyn assured him. Though there was a dark undertone to her words. “But he was rather… unwelcoming. In the end, he got to see just what a Valkyrie could do before his brothers marched him off to the dungeons… I don’t think he’s long for this world. I feel sorry for Anwyn.”

Azriel realized he knew nothing about what had occurred during her trip to Autumn. They hadn’t spoken about it the night before. Someone had been unkind to his mate and he hadn’t known because he’d been too busy trying to fuck her to ask. Shame washed through him. Perhaps that was why she’d gone to her own room at some point in the night. Because she too had noticed he had been more concerned about his own hurt feelings to worry about hers.

Any lingering thoughts about tumbling his mate that morning fled as he glanced again at her outfit. “If you give me a few minutes to get dressed, I’ll fly you down to Velaris myself. We can get breakfast before you go shopping and you can tell me all about what happened.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied him. “You have ten minutes,” she warned before shutting the door in his face.

Breathing out a sigh that was part relief, part anxiety- despite how the previous night had ended, Gwyn was clearly still upset with him- Azriel hurried back into his room to dress.

---

Exactly ten minutes later, Azriel jogged into the dining room where Gwyn and Nesta sat drinking coffee. Cassian had left a moment ago to fly out to Illyria for a check-in with the various warcamps in the aftermath of the rebellion. It was likely he would be busy for a while getting the Night Court’s armies back in order after so many had either died in the scrimmage or been sentenced to exile or execution afterward. 

He stumbled slightly as he finished lacing up his boot, nearly taking out a chair before he righted himself. Nesta hid an amused smile behind her mug, Gwyn just raised a brow at him and made a show of glancing at the clock. 

“Ready?” Azriel asked, smoothing the front of his tunic.

Gwyn had contemplated just taking Nesta and leaving him to stew some more. But the pull of the mating bond had become more insistent since she’d returned to the Night Court and she knew she couldn’t avoid him for long. It would perhaps be a bit awkward with Nesta tagging along today, but she’d begun devising a plan the night before after she’d woken up and snuck out of his bed into her own room. She had intended to talk about it with her friend today while they were shopping but decided it wouldn’t hurt to get a head start. She and Azriel could have a proper conversation later tonight. 

Today, she’d put him to work.

Abandoning their drinks, Gwyn and Nesta stood. “Can you take us both?”

Azriel nodded. “Of course. Flying might be a bit awkward but, once we’re past the wards, I can of course winnow us all down. Where are we going?”

“Sevenda’s, for brunch,” Nesta declared. “And then the palace of thread and jewels.” There was a devious glint in the female’s eyes and Gwyn had to hide a smile, knowing someone’s bank account - probably Azriel’s- was about to be a lot lighter.

Azriel seemed to realize this too, wincing slightly, but he made no comment as he walked them out to the balcony, tucking them both into either side before launching into the sky.

At brunch, Nesta and Gwyn ordered nearly the entire menu worth of food to share along with a couple of bottles of bubbly fae wine. Azriel’s brows had raised as he listened to them rattle off their order but again said nothing and they spent the next hour and a half listening to Gwyn recount her time in Autumn. 

Afterward, Azriel had trailed dutifully behind the pair as they drunkenly shopped, adding dresses and shoes, jewels and various accessories to his account, carrying their purchases without complaint. She’d felt a brief flicker of panic from him when Nesta had spent a solid five minutes admiring a tray of ridiculously large jewels, but she had seen the glimmer of amusement in her friend's eye and knew she had no intention of buying any of them. At least not today.

By the time they grew bored of browsing through shops, it was late afternoon. They dropped Nesta off at the River House where she would be visiting her nephew and joining her sister and Rhysand for dinner while her mate was gone for the next couple of days, before heading back to the House. 

Mor still had Emerie tucked away somewhere for the foreseeable future so they had the House to themselves once they managed to carry all of their things up the mountain. 

“So, are you ready to talk yet?” Azriel asked as he sat on the end of Gwyn’s bed watching her unpack her purchases, organizing them in her closet. 

“Are you going to listen or argue?” she replied primly, laying a set of bangles into the small wooden box that served as her jewelry box. He made a mental note to buy her a nicer one. Something bigger made of polished ebony or porcelain and lined with velvet… and more pieces to fill it with.

“Is this a discussion or a lecture?” He retorted.

Gwyn snapped the box closed and turned to face him, no trace of a smile on her face. Leaning against the dresser, she crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down with a surprisingly sober expression considering how much wine she’d consumed at brunch. “Do you even understand why I was upset with you?”

“Because I left?” he answered, half questioning. 

“But why ?”

“Why… what?”

“Why was I upset that you left?” she asked patiently. 

Azriel paused, considering. “...because you were hurt?”

He watched her slowly breathe in through her nose, then out. “No. There’s not much you could have done about that. I had already been healed, I just needed rest to recover. Which I would have gotten with or without you.” He winced. “No, I was upset because your first instinct whenever faced with something that makes you uncomfortable is to run away. You left before we could properly discuss anything and while I could understand if you needed some space to calm down, you disappeared for days . No one knew where you were, if you were alright… It felt more like you were punishing me.”

Azriel said nothing, just gazed back at her, the hands in his lap turned palms up in supplication as shame washed through him because, really what was there to say? He’d known he was wrong for leaving once he’d had enough space to calm down. He’d just been too much of a coward to turn around. He admitted as much, deciding it might help his case. 

Gwyn’s expression softened a touch. “That’s great, but the fact it took three days and a scolding from your mother to make you come back is a problem.” She sighed. “I believe we’ve had this conversation before, but it bears repeating. Communication , Azriel. You need to learn how to communicate. If you need some space after or during an argument, that’s fine. You can say so. We both have tempers, it would be smarter sometimes I’m sure to take a break than say things we regret. But I’m telling you now, if you run off on me like that again I will leave you.”

Azriel swallowed thickly at her words, practically able to taste their sincerity. She would leave him. It was not an empty threat. Even his shadows quieted at this pronouncement rather than hissing at him as he might have expected. 

“I mean it,” she threatened. Rather unnecessarily, in his opinion. He believed her. “I will not put up with it so I suggest you learn how to deal with it…It might be a good idea to look into the counseling services the priestesses offer in the Library,” she continued in a gentler tone. “I have used them myself and I know the High Lord has as well. I think it would be good for you.”

Azriel nodded slowly, deciding she was probably right. In fact, he sent off a few of his shadows to speak with Clotho about it. He had never quite figured out how they managed it, but they had devised some way to communicate with the mute priestess several years ago, which was rather convenient when he could not visit the library himself. “I will,” he promised. Gwyn nodded, seemingly satisfied.

Pushing off the dresser, she walked over to him, stopping just within reach of his hands which was a rather pointed gesture and he did not dare touch her until she invited it. Reaching out a hand, she stroked his cheek, laying her fingers gently on the side of his jaw. Leaning slightly into the touch, he gazed up at her, hoping she could see all of the love and affection he felt for her. 

Finally smiling, she stepped closer, and he wrapped his arms around her as she leaned down to kiss the top of his head. “Are you happy?” he asked, laying his forehead against her belly while she began stroking his hair. “That I’m your mate?”

“Are you?” she retorted.

Jerking his face up to look at her, Azriel gave her his most solemn expression. “I am. I could not ask for more, than for the love of my life to also be my mate. I only hope I might endeavor to deserve her.”

Gwyn’s face crumpled, her eyes shining with tears. Turning her body slightly, she lowered herself to sit on his thigh so they were closer to eye level and cupped his face. “I never thought I would be honored with a mate,” she said softly. “I heard stories about them of course, but I had dedicated my life to the temple then, I never assumed I would be so lucky. And to learn that I not only had one, but that the male the cauldron had blessed me with was one of the bravest warriors in Prythian, the male who had saved me and brought me back to life in more ways than one?... I could not have asked for better.”

Azriel’s throat was suddenly thick with emotion. Tightening his grip on her, he buried his face against her neck, breathing in her soothing scent for a long moment. “Can I kiss you now?” he murmured after a while. 

Gwyn’s laugh was watery and euphoric, bringing a grin to his lips as he looked up at her as she brought her mouth to his.

Notes:

A Court of Light Epilogue

Thank you so much for everyone who's stuck around for this ride. I hope you enjoyed the story and the ending!

I'm contemplating writing a bonus chapter of Gwyn and Az exploring fire play as referenced in Ch 28. Let me know in the comments if that's something you'd be interested in! 😘

Chapter 37: Epilogue

Four Months Later…

 

“Stop fidgeting”, Gwyn scolded lightly as she sat next to Azriel in the crowded temple. He shivered as she stroked her fingers from the inside of his wrist to the sensitive points on his palm and interlaced their fingers. 

Azriel’s wings shifted behind him, itching to stretch out as his anxiety at being in such a crowded space kept threatening. Both she and his shadows had been trying to soothe him in the half hour they’d been sitting here as the temple filled with guests, waiting for the ceremony to begin. With varying degrees of success. 

They’d been given seats near the front of the space in a position of honor, not only as guests of the bride, but also due to Gwyn’s newly appointed title as a princess of Day. 

A few weeks after she had returned from Autumn, a missive had arrived for Gwyn from Helion informing her he’d been able to track down their records from the years she and her sister had been conceived. Through some means Azriel couldn’t understand, the High Lord had been able to determine that Gwyn’s father had been one of Helion’s cousins, the previous High Lord’s nephew who had, unfortunately, lost his life during the battle with Hybern. Gwyn had been devastated to learn she’d missed knowing the man by a mere two years and had grieved the father she’d never had the chance to know .

Helion, whether in response to Eris’ decision to elevate Gwyn in his own court, or through true sentiment for his cousin’s memory, had also granted Gwyn an honorary title, and both males had been showering her with gifts and invitations in direct competition with one another to entice her to show favor to their court, which Rhysand had found highly amusing. 

Gwyn of course took full advantage of the situation to tease Azriel about being mated to a princess and to jokingly demand special treatment, which he was always happy to provide. Princess had, in fact, become his new favorite name for her in bed, especially when it made her blush with pleasure. 

Glancing at her beside him now, he eyed the teardrop opals dangling from her ears that had been a gift from Helion, the golden leaf pendant from her grandfather around her neck, and the diamond ring he’d finally cajoled her into wearing a few days before, despite them both agreeing to wait to accept the mating bond until they’d completed a period of proper courtship. Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed her fingers just below where his ring sat. The soft smile she gave him was as warm as the sunlight that streamed through the windows above. 

Before either of them could say anything more, the doors to the temple opened as Anwyn, the new High Lady of Day stepped inside, followed by Feyre and Nesta, who made their way to the front of the temple to take their places where they would stand beside their sister. An excited wave of hushed murmuring spread through the room as they awaited Elain, who entered a moment later on Rhysand’s arm. She looked resplendent in her traditional Day Court gown of white and gold, her eyes fixated on her mate who awaited her at the altar. 

Beside him, Gwyn squeezed his hand excitedly as she beamed at the middle Archeron sister who radiated such joy, Azriel wondered how he had ever deluded himself into thinking she might be half as happy with him as she was in this moment with Lucien. Glancing down at his own mate beside him, he could only be grateful that things between them had not worked out as he couldn’t imagine his life without Gwyn. 

Wrapping his arm around her waist, he tucked her more closely into his side as they watched Elain and Lucien formalize their bond and become the crowned heirs of Day. His smile as he stood with the rest of the guests in the Temple was genuine as he, and the rest of the guests acknowledged the newly bonded pair. 

They had managed to catch the happy couple shortly after the ceremony concluded along with the rest of the members of their court before the pair were swept up in a whirlwind of congratulations and introductions.The remainder of the day was a blur of laughter and conversation as Gwyn dragged him about the city stopping now and again to meet the locals who were celebrating in the streets and sample the food and drinks that were being shared in honor of the High Lord and Lady’s children. No one seemed to know who Gwyn was- which did not seem to bother her one bit- but were all welcoming and happy to meet such a curious and enthusiastic patron. 

Since the ceremony had been held on Summer Solstice, and they were in the Day court, the sun would never truly set, making it difficult to judge the passing of time, but he knew it was well into the late hours of the night before Gwyn finally fell against his side with a sleepy smile and asked him to take her home. Scooping her up into his arms, he obliged, using both his wings and his shadows to bring them swiftly back to Velaris.

Rather than heading to the House of Wind, however, Azriel instead veered towards the outskirts of the city, nearer to the ocean, where a quaint cottage sat in a small clearing in the woods with a perfect view of the sea where, the next day, they might observe the sunset. Night had already fallen in Velaris, and Azriel found himself staring up at a blanket of stars and cosmic dust as he landed softly on the beach, Gwyn stirring in his arms at the impact.

Blinking, she glanced around with a slight frown. “Where are we?”

Azriel smiled as he pivoted towards the cottage and made his way to the door, which his shadows opened for him. Stepping over the threshold, he carefully set Gwyn down on her feet and waited as she took in the space, His heart hammered in his chest as she looked around and slowly turned back to him, a question in her eyes.

“I bought this place, years ago,” he confessed. “Wasn’t really sure why at the time, but something about it- called to me. I never lived here though, even after purchasing it. I paid someone to fix it up and furnish it, figuring I might use it as a place to get away when my family was driving me crazy, but usually ended up at my apartment in the city instead… I think though, I now know why I was so drawn to it…”

“Why?” Gwyn asked, stepping closer. Her pale skin glowed in the moonlight streaming in through the floor to ceiling windows behind him, her ocean eyes sparkling like stars. She still took his breath away, no matter how often he gazed at her. 

“It was for you,” he admitted. “I bought this place shortly after I first met you…  three years ago.”

Gwyn stilled, staring at him. 

Azriel shifted on his feet, his hands twitching nervously. “I know this is still early days for us, and I know we said we’d wait to seal the bond but- I just thought it would be nice to have our own space… If you want it.”

Slowly, Gwyn moved forward, a smile gently curling her lips, until they were toe to toe. Her hands lifted, sliding over his chest, along the side of his neck and jaw, into his hair as she bent his head down to hers. “I want it,” she whispered. “I want all of it. All of you.”

Azriel sighed in relief, his hands winding around her waist. “You have all of me, priestess. For now and always.”

“You’re not going to ask if you can have all of me?” she teased.

“Oh,” he smirked. “I already know I do.”

Her laughter was his favorite song as it rang in his ears and he grinned down at her. “I love you,” he breathed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and cupping her face in his palm. “My Valkyrie.”

Her hands framed his face so their lips were just brushing. “And I love you, my Shadowsinger.”

Notes:

Woo it's been a long journey since I first got the idea for this fic. Thank you so much for all of you who were patient enough to stick around since the beginning with my sporadic posting schedule and multiple hiatus. I have loved all the wonderful comments on both this and the companion fic. I hope you all enjoyed this little ending to the story ❤️

Chapter 38: Bonus Chapter

Summary:

Bonus chapter for Gwynriel Weeks 2023 - NSFW day

A while back I proposed the idea of this bonus chapter which included fire play where Gwyn attempted to help Az overcome him fear of fire, given her new powers. I figured NSFW day was a good time to release that. For those who haven't read the rest of the story, there shouldn't be any kind of major spoilers.

Enjoy!

Tugging on the knot to ensure it was secure, Gwyn’s fingers slid up, caressing the inside of Azriel’s wrist, watching his fingers curl and stretch toward her touch. She carefully wiggled two fingers under the thick, silk ribbon to check he had enough room. “Feel good?” she asked.

He hummed his agreement, his head hanging over the back of the chair as he watched her work. Standing, she allowed him a quick kiss. “Words, Shadowsinger,” she scolded, using the same reprimand he used when he was in control. He smirked.

“Yes, dove. You’re getting good at that.” His tone was a mix of pride and wariness. 

Gwyn chuckled lightly. “I learned from the best.” Another quick kiss and then she stepped back, studying her handiwork, walking around him in a slow circle. She’d selected a chair with a low back that allowed his wings to hang freely and comfortably. His hands were bound together at the wrist and secured to either of the back chair legs, limiting his movement, just as his ankles were securely bound to the front legs. And he was beautifully, gloriously naked.

“Secure enough?” she asked. She watched, biting her lips as his muscles flexed, testing her knots. 

After a moment, he looked up at her with a crooked smile. “I could get out of them if I wanted, but they’ll work for our purposes.”

“Good,” she grinned. “Do you like the new ribbon?”

“Yes… I see it wasn’t the only thing you bought today.” His eyes slid over her body as she stood before him, his heated gaze bringing a slight flush to her skin. 

Smirking, Gwyn turned, giving him a view of her backside as she strode for the bag of ‘supplies’ she’d picked up in Velaris that morning when she’d gone shopping with the girls before she and Az had shut themselves away in their seaside cottage for the next week. Her friends had given her many raised eyebrows and knowing smirks with every purchase but mercifully refrained from any lewd comments. 

She was very much looking forward to the next few days.

Az sucked in a breath, growling slightly as she bent over to rummage through one of the bags and she hid a smirk as he got an eyeful of the lingerie she’d purchased in the same cobalt blue of his siphons that had been specially designed for ‘easy access’. Rising back to standing, she showed him the items she’d selected. A bottle of scented oil and a black silk blindfold. 

He raised a brow as she stopped directly in front of him, close enough to touch- if he had the use of his hands. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked him for about the fifth time that evening. She could feel his nerves through the bond, could feel the way he trembled slightly as he breathed in slow and deep and nodded. 

“Yes. I don’t want to be scared of your fire, Gwyn. I know you won’t hurt me- I trust you.”

Her heart squeezed at the open, vulnerable expression in his eyes. He’d come a long way since he’d begun therapy and she knew that, while it was still difficult to be so honest and open about his fears and insecurities, he was trying. And that’s all she’d ever asked of him. Laying a hand on his cheek, she bent down and kissed him thoroughly. He sighed contentedly when she pulled back.

“Safe words?”

Smiling, he nuzzled his nose against hers. “Mercy to pause. Red to stop.”

She gave him one more quick peck before pulling away entirely. “Good.” Holding up the hand with the blindfold, she let it unfurl. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

With that word, her entire demeanor changed. Her body took on a looser, seductive quality as she leaned her weight into one hip, exaggerating her curves as her face became a mask of command. Azriel’s eyes darkened with vicious delight. 

“From now on,” she said, pitching her voice slightly lower into the smoky timbre he liked. “You will address me as My Lady . Understood?”

“Yes, my lady.” His lips curled upward just the slightest bit as she nodded and sat the bottle between his spread thighs on the seat before moving around behind him once more. Slipping the blindfold over his closed eyes, Azriel obligingly tilted his head forward so she could tie the ribbon behind his head. It had been designed to fit snugly over the contours of his eyes and nose to completely block out light without putting extra pressure. He hummed appreciatively as she adjusted it into place and he moved his head around experimentally to test it out. 

“You like?”

“I do. I might have to get a few more of these,” he said thoughtfully. Gwyn shook her head. Always the Spymaster. 

“Good, now, sit still.” Azriel obediently stilled. Lifting a hand, one of his shadows brought the bottle of oil to her and smiled at it, smoothing a finger over it as it wrapped itself around her. “Thank you darling,” she cooed. Pouring some oil into her palm, she handed it back to the shadow. “Hold on to that for me, would you?”

It twirled- a movement she’d learned was the shadows version of nodding, and hovered to the side, ready to hand the bottle back to her when she was ready. Azriel muttered over his shoulder, “traitors.” and his shadows vibrated as though laughing. 

Gwyn couldn’t help her grin.

“Relax,” she purred, spreading the oil between her hands and pushing her power into her palms to warm it up. She’d developed an immunity to heat and fire once her powers had manifested- she’d also lost her tendency to burn in the sun, much to her amusement- a fact she’d taken full advantage of during the summer, laying out on the beach behind their cottage until her skin had darkened to a warm golden hue. Azriel had nearly pouted when her freckles had begun to blend into her darker skintone and demanded she stop getting so much sun.

Because of this loss of sensitivity, she again held out a hand, allowing one of his shadows to dart forward and test the temperature. Once it twirled away in approval, she reached forward and- without warning- smoothed her hands along the arch of either wing. Azriel immediately jerked, his head dropping back in a growl. He cursed under his breath but said nothing else so she kept going, reaching as far as she could until her chest was pressed up against his back as she stretched her arms to either side. 

With his head resting on her shoulder, she nipped her teeth along the lobe of his ear as her hands worked in long, slow strokes until she felt his tense muscles slowly relax under her touch. Occasionally she pushed more pulses of heat through her palm, feeling him momentarily tense then relax as she worked her way over the stiff spines of his wings and the sensitive membrane until she felt the oil dissipate. Holding out her hands, the shadow holding the bottle of oil helpfully poured more into her palm. 

Azriel began to grow restless at the loss of her touch and she kept him distracted with kisses along his neck and jaw as she warmed up the oil in her hands. His breathing was slightly ragged but steady belying the throbbing erection she could see as she peered over his shoulder and down his chest. She had already planned out exactly how this night would go in her head and it would be a good long while before his poor cock would receive any attention. 

Tonight would be a true test of his patience… and she was only just getting started. 

Bringing her hands to his shoulders, she began working the hot oil into the muscles of his back and neck, occasionally teasing his wings and nipping at him with her lips and teeth. Slowly, methodically, she worked her way around his body massaging hot oil into his arms, chest, abs, thighs, all the way down to his bound ankles. By the time she was done, Az was a panting, writhing thing, pulling at his restraints. 

“ Gwyn -” he whined, yelping when she pinched the inside of his thigh. “Fuck- sorry. My Lady… fucking please stop teasing and touch me .”

“I am touching you,” she cooed, running her hands back up his thighs, skimming dangerously close to his hips which bucked towards her. His groan caught in his throat, sounding more like a whimper.

“ Please .”

Gwyn hummed softly, working her hands in soft strokes moving closer and closer to his cock. “You beg so pretty for me. Do it again.”

“ Please- my lady.”

Smirking, Gwyn framed his cock between her hands, smoothing them up over his hips and stomach so her thumbs brushed either side of him. “Oh- fuck .” Leaning forward, she followed the touch with her lips, running them featherlight over his length until he made that same whimpering noise. Pressing a kiss to the tip, she pulled away from him entirely, drawing a growl from him.

She swallowed a chuckle as she stood and leaned forward, threading her fingers into his hair to tilt his head back. “I’m not done playing with you yet,” she said against his lips.

A needy  groan worked its way up his throat as she kissed him, pulling the blindfold off and letting it fall to the ground. “That was just the warm up, love. We haven’t even used my actual fire yet,” she flashed him a grin, holding her hand up so he could see the flames dancing over her finger tips.

He did whimper then, his gaze glued to the fire. “Check in,” she whispered. “Are you ok to keep going?”

She watched him lick his lips, swallowing nervously. His eyes never left her hand even as the flame flickered out. “What’s next?” he breathed.

In answer, she turned back to her bag and withdrew her last purchase, holding it up for him to see. A skin safe wax candle that melted at low temperatures. Perfect for the sort of game they were about to play. She watched his eyes narrow as he worked out her plan. He shifted in his seat but didn’t protest. “Want to keep going?” she asked once more.

Slowly, he nodded. “Yes.”

Smiling softly, she leaned in for another kiss. “Try to relax.” He huffed a sound of disbelief.

Holding the candle in front of her, she held one hand under it, her fire sparking to life once more. She’d bought this one specifically for several reasons, but mostly because the glass was clear, allowing them both to watch the wax melt, and because the wax changed color from white to red as it melted.

She could see Azriel’s chest moving in controlled breaths as he prepared himself and prayed this was not a massive mistake. She had figured it would be easier to ease him in using conduits that could hold the warmth of her flame without actually bringing the flame to his skin until he was more comfortable with it. Still, she knew the sting of the wax, even at a low melting point would be a shock. 

Once the entire contents of the glass had turned red, she pulled her fire back in and carefully raised the jar so it hovered a few feet over his chest. “Ready?” she asked. Together, they both took a deep breath as she tipped her wrist, watching the wax pour from the spout and drizzle across the center of his chest. Azriel hissed and tensed as the wax rolled a single line down the center of his torso, slowing to a stop just above his navel. 

“Okay?” she asked. The skin around where the wax had first landed was slightly reddened, but his shadows did not seem alarmed so she could only assume he was not truly burned. 

Swallowing hard, Azriel nodded and she decided to let the lack of verbal response go as she tipped her wrist once more, this time moving her arm in an arc as the wax drew a red line from his right shoulder to left pec. Moving her arm slowly, she painted a zigzagging line across his upper body, watching the wax roll across the ridges of his abdomen, stopping short of his hips. The first line she’d drawn was gradually fading to white as it cooled but the rest almost looked like blood as it dripped over his skin. The picture was as arousing as it was alarming.

She checked on Azriel again and when he nodded once more that he was alright, she continued painting the rest of his body with careful lines of red across his thighs, chest and shoulders, moving around him to draw thin lines over his wings. When she was about halfway through the contents of the jar, he was covered in dripping lines of red and white, his chest heaving and skin red and covered in a sheen of sweat.

Standing back to admire her work, she tilted her head to the side and drizzled another line over his chest, making sure to catch his nipples. Azriel groaned and jerked in his restraints. “Fuck - Gods , Gw- My lady… please .”

Reaching out, she stroked a warm hand over his cheek and rather than flinching away from it, he leaned into the touch which she could only count as a win. “How are you doing, love?”

“Good” he said through clenched teeth. “But I’m dying. I need you to touch my cock. Please.”

She chuckled. “Aw, is your cock feeling neglected?” she asked with a pout. “I can fix that-” she held the candle over his hips, grinning when he immediately bucked and growled. 

“Fuck- no.”

Laughing she kissed him. “Don’t worry, love. I’m not that cruel. You’re the sadist, not me.” He growled against her mouth, his shadows suddenly swarming around her, stroking her exposed skin in cool touches that made her shiver.

Tugging sharply at his hair, she hissed at them. “It’s not your turn yet.” They quickly backed off but she didn’t miss the fact that the candle was no longer in her hand. Cheeky bastards. Stroking her now free hand over his jaw, she felt a groan rumble through him at the heat before she pulled away. 

“Don’t worry, we’re done with the candle and the oil for now. The only hot thing touching you from here on will be my mouth.” He moaned in relief as her kisses trailed down his neck. Reaching down, she slipped her nail under the edge of the puddle of cooled wax around one nipple and peeled it off, earning another groan as she repeated the process on the other side. 

Leaning back to look down at him she mused, “We should probably clean you up first.”

This earned her a warning growl- amusing since she was the one in charge. Though they both knew that the minute she was done playing with him and it was his turn- he’d make her pay for every minute of teasing she’d just put him through. Winking, she snapped her fingers, the wax disappearing from his skin, leaving behind faint red marks in the places more recently touched by the wax that hadn’t yet faded. 

“What a pretty picture you make.”

“ Gwyn- My lady” he corrected when she tugged on his hair. “Please.”

“Beg again, love. You know how I like it.”

“ Please ,” he snarled.

“Such attitude,” she teased, lowering to her knees between his thighs. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous.” Before he could growl at her again, she had his cock between her lips, sucking him into her mouth with no preamble. 

“ Fuck ,” he shouted as he bucked into her mouth. There was no hiding her arousal now and she let him scent it as she glanced up at him beneath her lashes. She could feel he was close but, after that initial suck, made herself take her time licking and kissing and teasing him until his words were an intelligible jumble of threats and pleading.

Her hands had been massaging and stroking his thighs and stomach as she worked and she felt his whole body tense as she scraped her nails over his hips just before his climax hit and he spilled himself into her mouth. She continued to lick and kiss him as he came down, cooing quiet praises. 

“You did so good for me, love. So brave. My beautiful Shadowsinger.”

The low rumble that came from his chest was the only warning she got before he snapped his bonds, wings stretching wide as his arms swung around the back of the chair, snatching her up off the floor. She squeaked as he hauled her into his lap, burying his hands in her hair and kissing her hard while his shadows worked to release his ankles.

His body tense, curling into a crouch as he tucked her against his chest. His eyes gleamed wickedly in the darkened shadow of his wings as he grinned. “My turn.”

And her vision became a world of shadows as she laughed.