Chapter Text
Azriel was not surprised. He knew it would come to this in the end.
Perhaps he couldn't blame his High Lord that much, since his reasoning for protecting his Court was sound.
But it still hurt. It hurt more than he could have imagined, to have his brother of centuries tell him he couldn't pursue his own happiness. That he couldn't hope to have someone for himself, for the Cauldron had decided she was to be another's. That if he wanted to fuck someone , he should go to a pleasure hall and pay for it. As if mindless sex was all he could care about. As if the absence of someone didn't churn on his insides or keep him up at the darkest hours.
It didn't matter, after all. His court did not need another lovesick male. His family did not need his contentment. They needed the secrets he could provide. They needed the cold Spymaster, to deal with threats before they could take root.
The wind blew through his wings on the frigid night. The flight over Velaris was a peaceful one, so at odds with the rage and frustration that screamed in his mind at his brother's words. At how, once again, they made him feel utterly alone.
"You are not alone, Friend". The shadows cooed in his ear, attempting to soothe his reeling mind. He let a little ruffled breath escape him.
You know it's not the same, Little Ones.
"We know. We feel for you. Proud Brother was out of line". They weaved in and out of existence, as much aggravated as he was at Rhysand's order.
He was right. I shouldn't have hoped it would be different.
"You deserve what they have, Friend. You deserve to be loved". They wrapped themselves up his arms, their attempt at a comforting embrace.
He did not believe them. He never did, even after all his centuries.
He flew aimlessly above the various districts of the City of Dreams, the irony of the name not being lost for him. He whose dreams were always only that. Dreams. More like delusions, really.
The lights below were mostly snuffed out, most citizens already surrendered to sleep. He envied them, too. After a couple of minutes he decided that simply flying wasn't enough to calm his mind, and so he made a beeline for the House of Wind, intent on letting off some steam in the training pit. Except, he was not alone in that regard.
He glided the rest of the way to the balcony, landing with preternatural grace. He wanted to bank and head to another secluded place after seeing it occupied by a quite distinct priestess, but he figured it would be rude to do so.
Gwyneth Berdara wielded her sword with purpose, the blade shining under the moonlight, with her coppery hair unbound and waving in the breeze. The scene was a bit ethereal in his eyes, leaving he slightly mesmerized, for a heartbeat or two.
She finally seemed to feel the weight of his stare, whirling on her heels to face him and lowering her sword. The cold bit at her fair complexion, causing the faintest blush to spread on her freckled face.
"I'm sorry". She rushed to say. "I knew you were all off to the River House, so I figured I could have the training ring for a bit. But I can leave if you want me to-"
"It's alright". He quickly assured her. "I just came to retrieve something". It was a lie, of course, but a little one at that. Better to spare her having to justify her actions. His shadows were entertained at the prospect, peering gingerly at her over his wings.
You didn't tell me she was here, you Little Shits. He mentally scowled at them.
"The Priestess is safe, Friend does not need us to warn him about her presence".
Still, I would like to be informed.
They waved around his hair, full of mischief. " We make no promises". He could almost hear them giggling on the back of his mind. Mother help him with their antics.
Gwyn let a shy smile bloom on her face, pulling him from his secret conversation. "I was trying to cut the ribbon". She said, gesturing with her sword to the ribbon tied to a pole in the rig.
"So I see. Aren't you cold?". He asked, his breath forming clouds in front of his face.
She shrugged, the air on her breaths no less blurred. "You stop noticing after you get moving. What about you, Shadowsinger? Aren't you cold?"
"Cold inside, as Friend always is". As if he could tell her that.
He shrugged, mimicking her expression. "You stop noticing after you get moving".
She snickered at his mockery. His shadows wavered slightly at the sound, seeming content.
Their eyes met briefly, but it was enough to conjure a wretched memory. Of her in bloodied robes, eyes blown wide with terror and tears from the horrors Hybern soldiers had inflicted upon her. He banished it as soon as it came, unwilling to let it sour the light mood that he seemed to have settled with the priestess. She had averted her eyes as well, most likely taken by the same unpleasant reminder. He hated it. Hated that he was a tether to that day. That he hadn't been fast enough to arrive at the temple, or smart enough to predict the attack altogether. One more sin to his ever growing pile.
"It is not your fault, Friend. The Priestess does not blame you".
It is, but there's no fixing it now. All he could do was make sure to stay out of her way as much as possible, to make sure she would not be made to relive that night.
"The Priestess is not bothered by your presence. She is intrigued about you. She is curious about us". They preened at the statement, as if the thought of Gwyn's attention was immensely satisfying.
She was staring at him, an inquisitive expression on her face. He probably lost himself talking to the shadows, again. He really should stop doing that.
"Happy Solstice". She quipped, probably trying to fill in the heavy silence that had formed. He snorted, unable to stop himself.
"Are you kicking me out?" He asked, shuffling his feet to make his exit and leave her to her training.
Gwyn's expression fell for a split second, probably gathering the dismissive tone of her holiday blessing. "No, I'm not! Absolutely not, I'm just... I mean...". She struggled to find the right words. "I just presumed you would like to be alone. That's why you're here at this hour, isn't it?"
His expression softened, albeit almost imperceptibly. "I forgot something". He remembered her.
She looked unconvinced. "At two in the morning?"
"She's onto your deceit. And wholly unimpressed, we must add."
Shut up, nobody asked. He replied coldly to them, earning himself more imaginary giggles.
"Can't sleep without my favorite dagger" He quipped in a conspiratory tone.
"A comfort for every growing child, I'm sure" She answered, gracing him with an amused smile.
Azriel couldn't help himself, and smiled at the priestess. He thought back to the litany of weapons that covered most surfaces in his room in the House of Wind. Probably not a good idea to mention those.
"You should definitely mention those. The Lovely Priestess would find it funny!" The shadows sang to him, seeking to humiliate him further.
"How was the party?" She suddenly asked, trying once more to fill his silences. He wish she didn't ask about that topic, specifically.
"Fine". Azriel answered, a bit too dryly. He cringed internally, knowing that wasn't a polite or nearly acceptable answer. "It was nice". He quickly amended.
"As nice as a kick to the balls, Friend"
Don't even start.
"Did you and the priestesses have a celebration?"
"We did, though the service was the main event, really."
"I see".
"Greatly articulate as always, Singer."
What is wrong with you today?! Can you leave me alone for two damn minutes? The shadows tossed and turned behind his hair, satisfied to pester their friend.
"Are you generally this articulate, Shadowsinger?" Gwyn asked, a teasing smile on her face.
He couldn't help the snort that came then. His shadows' laughter ricocheted through his mind at her mirroring of their thoughts. "Only when I'm talking to one as knowledgeable as yourself, priestess." Azriel answered, giving her a mockery bow, a grin tugging at his lips.
She laughed at his response, sending more frozen clouds into the air. The sound was like a clear bell, drawing his Little Ones to twirl with the remnants of her breath.
"Her melody shines. The Lovely Priestess is music".
Now he was starting to get worried. His shadows had never openly complimented someone before. Lovely Priestess?
Maybe what surprised him the most was that he couldn't bring himself to disagree with them.
Gwyn's laugh dwindled, making his shadows retreat once more to their typical perch on his shoulders. She angled her head at them, observing them intently. They followed her movement, inclining themselves to match her head. That brought a smile to her face once more.
"Do you sing?" She suddenly asked. He raised an eyebrow. That certainly had caught him by surprise.
"What makes you think I sing, Priestess?" He mused.
"They call you shadowsinger. I figured it was fitting for you to sing" She answered matter-of-factly.
His shadows snickered in the back of his mind, agreeing to the priestess logic.
"I am a Shadowsinger. It is not a made up title, Priestess". He answered, matter-of-factly as well.
Her smile grew. "All titles are made up titles, Shadowsinger".
The shadows wavered slightly, agreeing with Gwyn.
Azriel sighted, internally and externally. "Right you are, Priestess".
"I usually am. So, do you sing?" She asked once more.
His mind briefly raced with an unfathomable amount of different avoidant responses, but he opted for the simplest of them. The truthful one.
"I do". And that's all he offered. He stared at her, bracing himself for her to press further, or, worse yet, to ask him to demonstrate .
But it never came. Seemingly satisfied with his answer, she nodded, more to herself than anyone else.
An idea sparked in his mind, as he found himself unwilling to let the interaction end. He jerked his chin to the sword, "Try cutting the ribbon again".
She was taken aback by the suggestion. "With you watching?"
He nodded.
She paused for a second, but made up her mind just as quickly, determination shining in her eyes. "Very well then. It's an honor to be tutored by you, Shadowsinger." She said, mimicking his mock bow from before, a grin once again adorning her features.
Azriel could get used to seeing that irreverence more often.
She squared her shoulders and steadied her feet, raising her sword once more and facing the offending ribbon. A perfect form, if he’d ever seen one. She sliced, clean and true, but the ribbon remained unfazed, merely avoiding the blade’s path, like the river that contours the rocks.
She frowned slightly, frustrated at her inability to cut the damn thing, more so in the presence of the Shadowsinger.
“Again.” Azriel’s steady voice filled the ring. He rubbed his hands to try and seep some warmth into them. They were always acutely sore in this freezing climate, the scars pulling on his skin and tendons obnoxiously.
Gwyn sliced again, but the ribbon remained intact.
He saw it then. “You’re turning the blade a fraction as it comes parallel to the ground,” he explained. Walking a couple of steps to the weapon rack in the edge of the ring, he picked up a plain Illirian sword. He assumed his position at her left side, letting her see the full picture of his demonstration. “Watch”.
He repeated her movement, slowly rotating his wrist in the same way she did before, and then switching to the correct positioning, keeping the blade straight and without the deviation. She watched attentively, resuming her slashes once he was done.
She repeated the movement several times, forcing the bad habit out of herself.
“I blame the General for this, you know. He can’t stop making eyes at Nesta and is neglecting the rest of his students” Gwyn said, still with that little frown on her face.
A low laugh rumbled out of Azriel. “I give you that. I’m bound to have a talk with Cassian about doing favorites”
“The Loud Brother cannot help it, Singer. And we have a feeling you will not be able to help yourself from now on, either”
The fuck are you on about?
“You will see, Friend. You will see” They added cryptically. He hated when they did that.
Gwyn was smiling broadly. She adjusted her robes and faced him once again. “Thank you, Shadowsinger. For both the company and the impromptu lesson. I’ll let you grab this mystery ‘thing’ of yours now”
He smiled back at her. “Happy Solstice, Priestess. Don’t stay out here too long, you’ll freeze to death”
She nodded her farewell, once again facing the aggravating ribbon. He almost felt sorry for the poor thing.
He turned and made his way out of the ring and into the warmth of the House. His scarred knuckles were immediately grateful, but he felt a different kind of coldness at the absence of the Priestess shining nature.
But he needed to sleep. Or at least, pretend to do so.
As he made his way down the stairs and into his gloomy bedroom, he swore he could hear a faint melody in the air, coming from where he left. His shadows seemed to sing in tune.
The encounter with the Priestess left him strangely settled, his mind quieter than it was a mere hours ago. Even his shadows were more languid, draping lazily over his shoulders. He smiled to himself, grateful for the reprieve of his hateful thoughts.
Alas, his peace was short lived, as it usually was.