Gwyn shivered as the wind slammed into her, sending her stumbling backwards into Azriel as she regained her bearings,

"I'll never understand how you do that so easily," she grumbled, rubbing her hands together against the cold,

"Do it a thousand times and you'll be fine," he laughed, quickly consulting the map he'd swiped off Rhys' desk earlier, leading Gwyn Eastwards, pointing out the key points on the map as they went, and showing her how to calculate distance and direction. "Here, the needle points North, spin this so that it's pointing the direction you need and follow it," Gwyn grabbed the Northseeker off him, and he surrendered the map, letting her navigate alone for a while, but Gwyn had no doubt that he'd already memorized where they would be heading for that whole day, and that he would correct her if necessary.

"Are we avoiding towns?"

"Yes, I'd head South of this one, there's a slight hill, so we should be more difficult to spot," Gwyn opened her mouth to protest how he could possibly know that, but looking at the map, he was exactly right, there was nothing but open space East, West and North of the town,

"Or we could be silhouetted against the sky," she countered,

"So we won't walk on the edge of the cliff, it's wide enough, it will take longer, but I'm not taking that risk," Gwyn huffed again, having no better alternative to offer, but she still wasn't going to let him win, she'd prove him wrong at some point.

Eventually Azriel did ask for the map back, and made Gwyn practice moving her wings around while they walked, ignoring her complaints and threats to attack from behind,

"I'd hear you coming,"

"Not if I'm quick,"

"You're to my left, about one pace behind me," Gwyn made a face, "Rude," he muttered,

"Stop snitching," she hissed at the shadows skittering across the floor, but they just danced out of reach, and Azriel snickered,

"Maybe you're not their favorite after all," Gwyn ignored him, focusing instead on moving her wings individually, one up, one down, one in, one out. She didn't notice when Azriel stopped walking, or when he started to watch her, until she passed him, "How long have you been doing that?"

"I don't know, a half hour?"

"Good, that's really good, it's like you were born with them," she fought the instinct that told her that she had been born with a connection to them, to Illyria, through him. She wasn't sure why, but she knew that her ease with adjusting was because of him, maybe she'd been watching him more than she'd ever admit, even to herself, after all, he did look rather good when he was training. She swallowed, banishing the image of him sweating and panting from her mind, the thought of how else he could get that way following it. There would be time for that later, later, when they weren't on a mission, when they weren't at war, when they had time to just be themselves, to learn how to enjoy that side of a relationship. She wanted that, not all the time, but she did want something, she couldn't place it, but she wanted something. "Gwyn? You okay?" Gwyn started, then nodded, cursing herself for getting too lost in thought, she'd worried him now.

"I was just thinking about the palace, how we get in,"

"About that, I know you already agreed to pose as my wife, but I'm not sure you know much about Illyrian customs,"

"I've picked up bits and pieces here and there, mostly from Em, but not much,"

"I thought so, since we're posing as rebels, we'll be expected to be fairly traditional, so anyone who we meet will likely only address me, and expect you not to speak unless directly spoken to, and certainly not before I do." Gwyn nodded, she'd expected that, hated it, but expected it, "And they'll expect you to look to me for protection, and not to carry weapons, I do have some daggers that you can wear under a gown, but you won't be well armed, so please, be careful, and don't draw attention, keep your eyes down a bit, and defer to any males, otherwise they'll know that something's up," Gwyn's lip curled at the idea of deferring to anyone solely because they were male, but she agreed, knowing that if she refused, Azriel would still leave her behind, rather than risk her messing up, risk her getting hurt.

"I won't be expected to know or understand anything about battle or war, right?"

"Right,"

"So maybe they'll speak a little more freely in front of me than you, so I should be able to pick a few things up that you won't hear,"

"Exactly, they won't know what's hit them, we're about to introduce a wolf in sheep's clothing to destroy the sheep." Gwyn chuckled,

"A wolf?"

"You're as deadly as one,"

"I suppose so,"Gwyn followed Azriel's lead when the town came into view, letting him pick the route, still annoyed that he'd been right, but letting him lead, at least for now. Still, she made a point of choosing their campsite that evening beneath a rocky outcropping of a steep cliff face, having failed to get one up on him at any point during the day, Azriel clearly hadn't missed that fact, his quiet glee slowly grating on her until she whirled, pointing a stick at him, the only small item within reach, "Stop it!"

"What?" He asked innocently, but snickered at her annoyance,

"Stop it," she repeated, "You're not better than me!"

"Of course not," he said, offering her his most patronizing smile,

"You're not," Gwyn muttered, but relaxed once he'd set up the bedroll, and started a little fire, still, she didn't want him to think he was better than her in any way, so she deliberately sat away from it,

"Gwyn, c'mere, it's cold,"

"Is it?"

"Yes, now get over here, you're incredible, I love you, but you still get cold, get over here," Gwyn huffed, but the warmth from the fire, from Azriel was too inviting to ignore as she relented, giggling when Azriel hauled her backwards against him, leaning back against the cliff face behind him, his wings spread outwards to capture the fire's heat. Gwyn leaned back into him, sighing happily as one hand wound around her waist, the other playing with the ends of her hair. Azriel paused moments later, as if noticing her attention on his hand, "Sorry," he muttered, dropping his hand back to his side. Gwyn narrowed her eyes and grabbed his hand, gently placing a kiss against it, and placed it back in her hair,

"Don't stop," she murmured, "That was nice," Azriel stilled behind her, then leaned forwards, resting his chin on the top of Gwyn's head, and she sighed again, letting her eyes fall closed, not noticing when she wriggled round in his arms to press her face against his chest, at least until she noticed his heart slowing under her head, his hand stilling in her hair, "Az?" She nudged him gently, "Come on, bed, you don't want to sleep here," she led him under the rocky outcropping, to the bedroll, turning her back while he changed for bed, then got him buried under the blankets before finally changing herself and snuggling into Azriel's arms, practically climbing on top of him, smiling when his arms tightened around her as she wriggled a little.

The morning came too quickly, but Gwyn woke first, wriggling out of Azriel's grasp, but froze when she noticed how they'd moved in the night. She couldn't get out of his grip, not without his knee rubbing against a very intimate part of her, even lying still, she could feel him there through her pants, and she tried to roll sideways to get up, but he held on to her. She didn't want him to wake up to this, to his thigh in between her legs, to her undoubtedly blushing far too much based on the way her cheeks had heated the moment she had noticed their position. She didn't want him to wake up and notice her arousal, not like this, not out here, but she had no such luck, and he stirred as he woke, slightly rubbing against her, and Gwyn's eyes flickered shut, her mouth dropping open as a slight moan slipped past her lips. She froze the moment she heard herself, but Azriel just blinked the sleep out of his eyes, then seemed to notice where his knee was, how it was affecting her.

"Do you want me to get up?" He murmured, and Gwyn nodded, not now, she didn't want this now, not here, she wanted this, but when they were safe, home, but she did twist her head to press a gentle kiss on Azriel's cheek,

"Later, at home,"

"Home?" She hadn't realized when the library had stopped being that that, hadn't realized that 'home' was no longer a place, she'd meant Velaris, the House of Wind, but that wasn't her home. Azriel was her home, wherever he was, she was home, it didn't matter, but she still wanted to be somewhere familiar, safe, for anything beyond a few kisses. She smiled,

"I am home," and snuggled into him again, "But I meant back in Velaris,"

Home. That one word clashed through him again and again while he and Gwyn packed up their kit, and continued walking, that word kept ringing through his mind with each step, the way she had said it. I am home. I am home. Home. Home. Home. That was what she was, wasn't it? Home. In some ways she always had been, and she definitely always would be, every part of him called out for her, needed her, his very blood sang in her presence, and Mother knew that his shadows were constantly prancing about with her, they joked around with her, no-one had ever elicited that reaction. Azriel had always assumed that only one person would get that reaction, the one thing he had wanted for so long, the one thing he was so completely unworthy of. There was no bond between them, Rhys had known almost immediately, even without the bond in place, and Cassian had figured it out quickly, but it was possible for centuries to pass before a bond snapped into place. Still, if it wasn't her, Azriel didn't want it, if his mate showed up now, if it were anyone else and the bond snapped into place, he would reject it. He didn't want anyone else, he just wanted her, Gwyn.

She seemed to realize his train of thought, and turned back to face him, her smile broad, her eyes alive, wings peaking just above her shoulders. He smiled back at her reassuringly, noting the slight hint of worry in her eyes, but he was fine, he was better than fine,

"Can you check I'm looking in the right place on the map?" Gwyn's voice jolted Azriel out of his thoughts, forcing him to engage his mind, to actually think about the present, where he was. She tucked herself into his side when a gust of wind picked up, and nestled against him, tucking her face against his chest to hide from the way the wind was whipping across the open space around them. Azriel automatically pulled her against him, an arm around her shoulder, a wing stretching out to shield her from the wind. Rain was coming, he knew it, but they were miles from the nearest shelter, true, he could summon a shield, but that would be visible for miles, the fire last night had been a risk, but it was small, a glowing shield was not.

"C'mon, we've got to move quickly to get some shelter," he murmured, but they were never going to get to anywhere in time, he was just hoping for a tree or something to help with the wind. Nothing showed up, and when the rain started it was light, gentle, but it gradually increased until giant hailstones were pouring down on them. Gwyn pressed herself against him, and sucked in a harsh breath, pain, that was pain she was shying away from, "What's hurting you?"

"The hail, my wings, I don't know,"

"You're just not used to it, they're sensitive, probably more so because they're new," he pulled her against his chest, lifting his own wings over her head to deflect the hailstones away,

"Doesn't that hurt?" She complained, trying to get him to lower his wings, to get them out of the maelstrom of hailstones,

"No, it kind of tingles, but my wings are used to wind and rain, it hurt when I was young, when I first got to Windhaven, because they'd never felt the elements before, like yours probably, but over time they got used to it, "I'm fine, Gwyn," he insisted when she frowned, still concerned. The storm passed slowly over head, and Azriel kept shielding Gwyn from the worst of it the whole time, ignoring the ache in his muscles from holding his wings up and open for so long, as long as Gwyn was okay, it didn't matter. Besides, if he dropped his wings, hers would hurt, and his only ached a little at the base, that ache would fade within minutes of him lowering his wings.

Once the hail had halted, giving way to gentle rain, Azriel finally lowered his wings, letting the rain fall on them both, but kept holding on to Gwyn, she hadn't let go of his waist, and he certainly wasn't going to let go first, not when he could hold her like this forever. Still, eventually she did slip out of his arms, laughing in the rain, her hair soaked, water droplets flicking off the end of her braid as she moved,

"Dance with me," she grabbed his hand, giving him no choice but to give in the her joy, the way the raindrops beat down on the earth was a music of sorts, but Gwyn could turn anything to music, to song, and she didn't let him down, her voice joining the rain as they gently swayed to the rhythm of the rain. Gwyn laughed, and tossed her head back, her eyes shining with joy despite the reason they were there, she'd always had a way of making everyone smile, no matter what, it was part of why Azriel was drawn to her, why he loved her so much. She allowed him to step out of his role as Spymaster, allowed him to just be Azriel, the male he could have been if there'd been no wars, if he and his mother had been able to live normally, she let him be a male he could stand to be around, she allowed him to live.

The rain persisted, even after time had borne on and forced them to keep moving, lest they not make the distance they needed to in that day. Not once did Azriel contemplate his possible death over the few more days it took to reach Gwyn's friend, not once did he think that he might not see his friends again, not once did he allow himself to brood over the mission, he just was. With Gwyn beside him, nothing felt so heavy, not the burden of knowledge about their enemies, not the constant fear that he might not return, not the fear that he might fail his family, because he would return, and he would succeed, how could he not, with Gwyn with him? She insisted on carrying the pack for half of each day, persisting even when she couldn't do up all the straps with her wings yet, she just let him help her, and Azriel had never been more in awe of anyone, ever.

As it turned out, Gwyn's friend was a human woman, who had paled at the sight of Gwyn's wings, and actually stepped back when she saw Azriel, he had done his best to look non-threatening, but he was armed, and he was an Illyrian male. People, human and fae alike tended to be wary of him, and Azriel had a feeling that he could have shown up in his bedclothes and she would still be afraid of him. Gwyn stepped forward, blocking Azriel from her friend,

"It's just me, the wings are just a ruse, this is Azriel, he won't hurt you,"

"You promise?" She was less afraid now, but still wary, and Azriel didn't miss the way she pulled her hand out from behind her back, he would bet good money that she'd been reaching for a dagger, probably an ash one.

"You will come to no harm by my hand, and while you shelter us, I will guard you and your home with my life," Azriel swore, reciting an old human vow, and the woman relaxed, gesturing for them to come in,

"I'm Evanna, by the way, I used to work at the palace, helping with communications with the fae, I met Gwyn about four years ago, when she and a delegation from a temple came to the human lands, not the palace, in hopes of allaying my people's fears of the fae," she explained,

"We were unsuccessful," Gwyn admitted,

"Not entirely," Evanna said, "You gained my friendship, and others,"

"True, and I cherish that trust, but your people still distrust ours, still hate us,"

"Can you blame them?" Honestly no, Azriel wished it were different, but he couldn't blame the humans for distrusting the fae, in their place, he would, and he nodded as Gwyn voiced his own thoughts, before taking a breath before speaking again

"We have a favor to ask,"