Azriel was hunting through the wardrobe when his fingers brushed against something new, no, old, he blinked in surprise and pulled it out, he hadn't been imagining it,
"You kept this?" He held up the cloak for Gwyn to see, and she nodded,
"Of course, but it's yours, I want to give it back,"
"You can keep it if you want,"
"No, I need to give it back, to try and move forward, away from that day, I'll never manage it if I cling on to your cloak,"
"Alright," he made to put the cloak back on his side of the wardrobe, but paused, "Do you need to not see it anymore, or just to give it back?"
"I don't know," she admitted, "Perhaps we could donate it to a secondhand shop or something, then it's doing good,"
"Yeah, we can do that, I just have to finish my report this morning, then we can go for a walk, take a quick break from everything,"
"Oh, I finished it last night for you," she laughed, "You were asleep, and I didn't want you to worry, I'm sure I'll have forgotten something though,"
"I love you." Gwyn snorted again,
"Gods, Az, if all it takes is doing your paperwork, I'd have done it ages ago, I'm better writer than you anyway," she teased, taking the cloak from his hand and laying it across the back of a chair as she hauled his face down to hers until there was almost no space between them, "And my writing is neater than yours," she muttered, raising her head to kiss him before he could complain, her hands diving into his hair to tug slightly, pulling him ever closer, even as his arm wrapped around her waist, pinning her into him. She nipped at his lower lip, managing one gasping breath before he tipped her head back, stealing her breath in one movement as she opened, letting him take the lead. She met every movement with one of her own, at least until he released her lips, straightening to brush his fingers through her hair. He chuckled at her attempt to follow, standing on her tiptoes and scowling when she couldn't reach,
"You're adorable," he muttered, and she scowled harder,
"I'll show you adorable, Shadowsinger," she muttered, "I'll kick your ass,"
"Of course you will," he laughed, and she couldn't help the smile that sprung to her face at the sound, rich and deep, it was a proper laugh, not one his half-hearted or forced ones, a real laugh. "Give me a few minutes to read through that report then, after that we can go,"
"Okay, tell me if you need to add or change anything, I want to know,"
"I would expect no less, I'm sure it's perfect,"
"I'm sure it's not," she snorted, but contented herself with braiding back her hair in the mirror for the moment until he finished.
She hadn't meant to stare, but she had nothing to do, nothing except watch Azriel make a few changes to the report, his brows furrowed in concentration, his hair falling forwards over his eyes. Gwyn leaned back in her chair, chuckling to herself as the shadows flitted towards her, Azriel heaved a sigh of exasperation but didn't bother to try and call them back. They were careful not to crowd her but Gwyn gestured for them to come over, a rush of faint, barely audible voices coming with them. She could only make out a few words here and there, her name, Azriel's name, the library. She blinked in surprise at the mention of the library, but she did want to speak to Azriel about it, about wanting to permanently move out. She would always harbor a soft spot for it, but the library was no longer what she needed, what she needed now was a purpose, her friends, family, she needed to be here.
Azriel was staring out of the window when Gwyn glanced back towards him, seemingly lost in thought, but he shook his head and turned back to the report before him. It was a surprise to see him like this, she'd expected him to still be tense and worried this soon after getting home, but there was no tension in his shoulders where he sat, he wasn't rushing anything, his wings were drooped against the low back to the chair, resting. And of course, there was the humming, Gwyn had rarely heard him hum to himself, but it was always when he managed to relax. She smiled as he tapped his pen against the desk,
"What did you say about Laylah's father?"
"He was shifty," she answered automatically,
"I can't say he was 'shifty' in an official report, it'll go in the archives and future leaders might read it,"
"He was secretive, furtive, unforthcoming, threatening, aggressive, overconfident, arrogant." She chuckled to herself at Azriel's blink of surprise, "That better? You do know what those mean right?"
"Yeah, believe it or not, I'm not as dim-witted as Cassian, although you can be forgiven for assuming after being left with just him training you for too long, I was beginning to wonder if it had rubbed off on you,"
"I had no idea you were so ostentatious, Shadowsinger,"
"Nor I that you would stoop to such depths, 'shifty' indeed, you sound like Cass."
"Is that so bad?" She trilled, "As I recall, he has no issue voicing his feelings and thoughts,"
"He had a thought? And I wasn't there to chronicle the momentous occasion?"
"That's a big word, Azzy, are you sure you know what it means?"
"You've been spending too much time with my mother." Gwyn held back a chuckle,
"What do you mean? Your mother is delightful, Azzy, really," she lost it when Azriel turned in his chair to fix her with a devious smile, and dropped the competition, studying his face, trying to figure out his new plan. "What? Az, what?"
"Oh it's 'Az' now, you just wait, Berdara," he laughed, and Gwyn narrowed her eyes,
"Find his plans," she whispered, just loud enough to be heard by the shadows, who crowded closer in acknowledgement,
"Don't cheat! You can't use them to help you,"
"And why not?" She asked innocently, shrugging when he sighed again,
"It's cheating,"
"No, it's using the resources at my disposal, I can't help it if I'm their favorite,"
"Fine. I won't tell them anything though, and it wouldn't help you if you knew anyway," Gwyn faltered, her mind racing, and missed her chance to claim the last word, settling for flipping him off. Still, her mind was racing as she considered everything that he could possibly be referring to, coming up empty-handed. She was still trying to figure out his plan when someone squeezed her shoulder, sending her flying out of the chair in an attempt to turn and face the threat, but she stumbled over her wings, almost falling flat on her face. She would have fallen had she not thrown out a hand to catch herself, grabbing onto the first thing she found, a momentary panic engulfing her when it grunted, holding her upright, and she mentally kicked herself as she realized it was Azriel, she'd been so lost in thought that she hadn't him move. She gripped his arm as she adjusted her wings, lifting them up and out of the way before finally letting go,
"Sorry," she muttered, "Still figuring these out," Azriel just smiled,
"Maybe you should keep them, you'll be able to learn to fly on your own." Flying? She'd never considered it, had just assumed that Feyre would vanish them upon her return, but maybe she could keep them, then she could learn aerial combat, and be twice as useful in a fight. Yes, she'd like to keep them, but it was a big change, one she wasn't sure she could make permanently.
"Maybe," she mused, "We'll see."
The streets were quiet. A few people had acknowledged them as they passed, but mostly the streets were empty of people, even the most popular shopping streets were bare,
"Everyone is preparing for the war," Azriel said, his tone inviting no conversation about it, but Gwyn ignored it,
"Is there anything else we can be doing?"
"No, not at the moment, the next thing we can do is halt their ambush, it's planned for three days time, so we have to wait until then, there's nothing else other than the ongoing preparations,"
"Nothing?"
"Nothing for us, take some time to try to relax, do something, anything to take your mind off it while you can,"
"I can't, it feels wrong,"
"Look at me, Gwyn," Azriel halted and tipped her head back, his fingers gently gripping her chin, "Never, never feel bad for looking after yourself, it'll be a while until we get a chance like this again, so use it, please, I understand, really I do, but you'll never manage to keep going if you don't rest while you can. This war is important, there's no denying it, but there is nothing we can do right now to prepare, but what we can do is make sure that we are in the best state to handle it, so we need to rest, and prepare ourselves, physically and mentally. Rest, just for a few days, then we can get back to defending our people, okay?" Gwyn squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, when she opened her eyes, Azriel was still staring at her with that same concerned expression, his eyes fixed on hers, trying to gauge what she was thinking. But he was right, he of all people understood, and he was right, if she didn't take her time now, she'd burn out at the critical moment, she could rest, just for a bit.
"Okay, just for now,"
"Just for now." She pressed against his side as they continued down the deserted street, her mind racing, Nesta, Emerie, she needed to find out how the healer training was going, she needed to train, she needed to make sure Nesta was doing okay, that the memories of the Hybern War weren't too bad, but that could all wait, tomorrow, she would see them tomorrow, today was about her and Azriel, a taste of what life would be when they finally had peace, a taste of the future.
The secondhand shop was empty save for the shopkeeper when Gwyn slipped inside, leaving Azriel waiting for her outside.
"Hi," she hesitated, but steeled her nerves, the shopkeeper was a female, and Azriel was waiting outside if she needed him, she could afford to allow her vulnerabilities to surface, "Are you accepting donations?"
"Yes, always," the shopkeeper smiled warmly, remaining by her desk, as if she could sense that Gwyn was nervous, waiting until she approached by herself, "Anything I can help with?"
"I'm okay, I've just been holding onto this for too long," she set the cloak on the counter, "A reminder of of the worst time of my life, and the one who brightened it," the shopkeeper smiled knowingly, shooting a quick glance outside, to where Azriel was leaning against a lamppost, a quick glance, but one that Gwyn noticed, "I don't need that reminder anymore, it'll be more helpful to move on, but I want it to be useful to someone,"
"Of course, you've come to the right place at any rate, this will be invaluable to someone come winter, is there anything else I can do for you?"
"No, I don't think so, thank you,"
"Thank you," the shopkeeper waved as Gwyn left, and she returned it, her mind clearer than it had been in ages, as if a weight had lifted, she smiled to herself as she crossed to Azriel, not noticing his own smile as she reappeared, too lost in her own thoughts, at least until he caught her hand, holding it tight all the way home.
She lost track of time, lying in Azriel's arms, reading her book, laughing when he started reading over her shoulder, or twisting her hair around his fingers. They both forgot to go and fetch lunch, until there was a slight tap on the door, revealing Cerridwen with two platters of food, and a disapproving look on her face, she placed the platters beside the couch they were sitting on, and ordered them to eat, all of it. It was the first time Gwyn had noticed Azriel accept orders from anyone other than Rhys or Feyre, and she snorted when Cerridwen grinned at her.
With the sun creeping down towards the horizon, the light dimmed, casting the world in a rosy glow, almost like candlelight. Azriel didn't seem to notice, being quite happy to let her go when she complained that her legs were stiff, after all, he was more used to sitting still than she was, he'd had hundreds of years to practice, Gwyn wasn't quite there yet, and the urge to move was uncontrollable, but when she looked back at Azriel, an arm resting across the back of the couch, utterly relaxed, that urge changed to something else, something she was only just starting to become familiar with. Azriel raised an eyebrow, noting the change in her stance as she stared at him,
"Gwyn?"
"Just," she paced back towards him, "Just shut up and kiss me," he smirked, and Gwyn glared, she was going to wipe that arrogant smirk off his beautiful face once and for all. But, before she got the chance, Azriel had leapt to his feet, sweeping her into his arms as he crossed to sit of the bed, setting her in his lap,
"Tell me what you want, okay?" She nodded, shifting to straddle his lap,
"Kiss me." He did, gods he did, one hand around her waist, the other tangled in her hair, she closed her eyes, right now, this was it, all she had to think about, Azriel, Azriel, Azriel, she might have been chanting his name in her head, out loud, she had no idea, but he was her sole focus. He groaned when she tugged on his hair, trembling with restraint,
"Gwyn," he panted, "Tell me what you want, please,"
"More," she gasped, "Just, more,"
"Thank the gods," he muttered, "you're going to be the death of me," Gwyn chuckled, and let go of him for just long enough to unbutton his shirt, but it stuck when she tried to pull it off, "Wings," Azriel managed, "Let me," he fumbled for a moment before muttering a curse and tugging hard enough that the shirt tore, sending them both into fits of laughter, gods, Azriel was always beautiful, but when he laughed, he was beyond gorgeous, and he was laughing because of her, she would watch him laugh forever if she could, the sound seemed to rumble through the air, striking a chord deep within her,
"You're beautiful," she whispered, unaware that she had spoken out loud until Azriel returned the thought, cupping her face as he ran a thumb over her cheekbone, the urgency gone, replaced by love, this was it, this was what she wanted, what she would fight for, this future, when they didn't need to rush, when they had all the time in the world. Slowly she reached for her own shirt, expecting that flash of fear, but it didn't come, she could never be afraid, not for a moment, not when Azriel was there, gazing at her with such awe in his eyes, holding her close as she tossed the shirt aside. She made no move to remove her bra, and Azriel waited for her to move, to lean back down to kiss him again, waited for her to move her hips against his, against the hardness in his lap. She moaned, long and loud, when his lips trailed along her jaw and down her neck, igniting a deeper fire in her blood, a fire that sang his name, and his name only, her was hers, he was made to be hers, and she was never letting go, never.
Each move he made, each brush of his tongue against her skin, each swipe of his fingers across her waist, up her back, over her covered breasts, left her wanting more and more. Azriel had shifted her so that her legs fell either side of one of his, and he slowly dropped his hands to her hips, still kissing along her collarbone as he gently guided her to move against him. She'd never felt anything like this before. She clung on to his shoulders as he moved her against him, each movement sending pleasure rippling through her, gentle, but indescribable pleasure. Still, she started to notice something tightening in her belly, and she gasped, burying her face in Azriel's neck as she kept moving, that tension coiling tighter and tighter,
"I love you," Azriel whispered, and all of that tension unleashed at once, her body at once going loose and taut, and she squealed his name, her mind going blank of everything, everything except him, Azriel. She vaguely noted something damp against her knee, but couldn't quite register that it was the one pressing against Azriel's crotch. She didn't realize what had happened until she managed to lift her head, still held tight in Azriel's embrace, "Sorry," he muttered,
"What?" Oh, she glanced down and noticed the dampness on his pants,
"That hasn't happened since I was a teenager, I'm sorry," he repeated, his cheeks stained with a beautiful pink tinge, and Gwyn laughed,
"I didn't know I had such an effect on you, Shadowsinger," she chuckled, but leaned back into his chest, the effort of holding herself up almost too much still, but he lifted her again, this time carrying her to the bathchamber,
"Thank you for trusting me,"
"I love you," she muttered, not quite registering his words until she had spoken, already half-asleep as he ran a bath, setting her on the edge as he turned to leave around to give her privacy, she didn't want that, she might not want sex yet, but she didn't want him to think for one moment that she wasn't comfortable with him, "Azriel," she called, "I can't reach my wings," Azriel reappeared moments later,
"You want help?"
"Yes, please," she whispered, sighing as a washcloth pressed against her skin, her eyes falling closed. She didn't wake when Azriel stood to clean himself up, nor when he lifted her out of the bath and dried her off, she didn't wake when he put her in one of his shirts, only when the morning sunlight cascaded into the room, warm and safe in Azriel's arms.