"Poor thing," the High Lord's voice sounded as far from pity as she could imagine. Beron reached out catching my arm, and despite wanting to rip away from the unwanted touch I found I couldn't move at all. He examined me, fingers probing rather roughly into the claw marks that decorated my shoulder. A gasp of pain slid through my clenched jaw. "Ah, you've been poisoned." He remarked as if he were commenting on the weather. "What are you doing so far from your…" he sneered slightly, his lip curling with disgust. "...court? Seems a long way off from here."
I tried to speak, but the words didn't come. He seemed amused at my effort.
"Strange," He added with a small sniff in my direction. "You've not fully bonded with that beast yet? You'd think an Illyrian would have already brutalized you." He mused. "Especially with him claiming you as Mate, or was that simply a clever ruse to keep a beauty like you hidden away in that ghastly territory?"
Hands were suddenly wrapping underneath me, pulling me to the man's chest. My blood seeping onto a rather expensive looking white shirt.
"Of course, the Night Court is known for lying to procure beautiful and powerful females. Just look at how they've trained Tamlin's once-bride." The woods swirled around me as he simply began to walk. I caught sight of a rather large swath of destroyed trees and ground as we walked. "That was a good effort. though," His voice had changed as he talked. The callousness shifting into something smooth and warm. Welcoming. "I see they've neglected to teach you to control your power."
With an effort that felt gargantuan I forced my lips to move. "Where are you taking me?" The words were malformed, but seemed to do the job.
"Impressive." Beron looked down to me. Shorter brown hair, fell around a softly tanned face, his brow wrinkling slightly as he met my eyes. "The beast you ran into has a paralyzing poison." He explained looking back ahead. "It's impressive you're still managing to speak. Hidden strength lies in you, dear. And as for your question, I'm taking you to my personal healer. Save your strength, you have my word that you are safe in my Court for now."
I struggled to speak once more. "Where are we?"
"Autumn Court. My court. I must insist you sleep, dear. Here," Beron pressed a fingertip to my temple that strange vulpine smile crossing his face once more. "I'll help."
Before I could object the world fell to darkness.
"It's been hours, Az." Morrigan soothed from her perch on the couch. They were in a location that was unfamiliar, yet very familiar to the male who was currently pacing. The townhouse, late at night. Morrigan had a glass of wine balanced in one hand, her eyes tracking the shadowsinger as he flowed from one spot to another. "She's still alive right?"
Azriel brushed softly against the bond, feeling it's moonstone length vibrate under his touch. The other side was muted, but still there. Still alive. He nodded once, not trusting his voice to stay even.
"Hey, she's smart." Morrigan pulled herself up reaching out to touch his arm. He stilled himself, even if the urge to pace rode him almost violently. "I've kept an eye on her. She's a bit timid at times, but she's good at hiding, and she fights when she has to. She's been picking up Cassian's lessons quickly. We'll find her."
It felt wrong to be fretting over another female with Morrigan so close to him. She seemed to pick up on the conflict there and sighed, pulling her hand away. Azriel felt a bit colder, but didn't let that show. He schooled his face and forced himself to sit on the couch opposite of her.
"What….do you feel about all of this?" Morrigan was the only one who felt comfortable enough to ask. Azriel didn't answer and instead tightened a few of the straps to his flying leathers, settling them against his skin more firmly. "Az, you have to feel some way about this. She's your Mate." He didn't need to look at Morrigan to know she was leaning forward, leaning toward him. "Don't tell me it's going to be like Elain and Lucian."
He glanced up at her, his eyes hard.
"She's a good female." Morrigan said firmly. "One who's unlike anyone in this world. You would compliment each other." She was right, in a way. Nova's mind worked differently than anything he had felt before. Shaped by an entirely different world, he sometimes couldn't predict what she would do. How she would react. He had wanted to learn about her, and the world that had created her.
"What's stopping you?"
Azriel felt himself become very still, and something like guilt slid through Morrigan's eyes. They both knew, of course, what was stopping him. What would always stop him. It shimmered in the air between them. A feeling so deeply ingrained in him he doubted it would ever fade.
I struggled to pull myself away from what I was seeing. What I was feeling. Initially distanced from the scene through my horror and pain, but the quiet nightbound townhouse swept back around me drowning out my own thoughts. Drowning me out till I was once again riding along with Azriel.
"You need to give her a chance." Morrigan sounded choked. Azriel simply looked away from her, reaching for his own discarded glass of wine. It didn't help, but he wanted to down the whole bottle. Drink until he could sleep. Until he could get the strange female out of his head.
"Az, there's something I have to tell you." Morrigan sounded pained and Azriel automatically sat up wanting to comfort her. Her eyes were filled with guilt, frustration, and terror. "I have to," she muttered as if to herself, "I can't be the reason that you don't try." Morrigan took a deep breath hardening herself for something.
So different from the first time he saw her, beautiful and fierce striding through Devlin's camp as if she owned it. He had known then, how he felt. The moment he had laid eyes on her. Even surrounded by mud and cold she was vibrant. Brimming with life and beauty.
Like a flare in the darkness she had burned herself into his life. And nothing had ever compared.
...until…..
She had been small and unassuming, the runes decorating her body looking harsh against the soft and beautiful lines of her face. Her eyes had been piercing. He had felt something when he looked at her, felt that bond whisper into existence. But it hadn't been then that he had really seen her.
It was near the woods, eyes flashing with a dangerous light, standing up to the entire Inner Circle. The trembling and tears washed away by something stronger than iron. She had felt suddenly so very real, drawing him in without trying. The strength there. She had been fierce, surrounded by battle and bloodshed, wrapped in a body she claimed was not her own, and yet in that moment she had seemed to warp reality around her. Burned with internal fire and strength so that everyone else had seemed to pale. Even Morrigan…
"What is it?" He asked her, mentally shaking himself out of the past. Morrigan needed him now. The words she wanted to say didn't seem to come. Azriel didn't push, knew he didn't have to. If Morrigan really wanted to tell him she would.
Mor got up, moving across the room to sit nearby. Her scent familiar and intoxicating. Five hundred years of yearning curling dangerously close to the surface.
"I don't want this to change anything." She whispered. Azriel reached out with his free hand, slipping his hand into hers for comfort. "I've been thinking about telling you for a long time," she began looking at his hand in hers. "But….especially since Nova got here. I can see that there's something there."
"I hardly know her." Azriel answered easily.
Morrigan shook her head looking into his eyes earnestly. "You've been avoiding her as much as you can, Az. But you're drawn to her. I can see it when you're in the same room as her." Azriel glanced away. He had taken to watching Nova. He didn't try and speak to her much, but he couldn't help himself when she was near. It was prudent to watch her, however, she could be a threat to all they had worked to achieve. The Court of Dreams.
"It's okay that you do." She breathed, her scent washing over him thicker than before. "It's natural that you do."
"It doesn't matter what she is." Azriel said, forcing his voice calm and neutral. He had always been such a good liar.
"Yes, it does. You can't keep doing this to her. She...she's a good person." Morrigan frowned at him. "She doesn't understand any of this. I can see she feels it too. Why don't you just try with her?" Azriel didn't give an answer. As if sensing his inner turmoil his shadows clustered around him, bringing thousands of whispers that he pushed to the back of his mind.
"This is why," Morrigan pulled her hand away from him. As always part of him ached when she pulled away. She always pulled away. "I can't watch you throw this away. Just look at Feyre and Rhysand."
"You know as well as I do that mating bonds do not equal love. Take Rhysand's father and mother. Lucian and Elain." He listed off.
"It could be like Feyre and Rhysand." She insisted quietly. "You won't even try." Azriel didn't attempt to contradict her. He couldn't.
"Are you going to give her a chance, Az? Or are you rejecting the bond?" Morrigan asked. The air felt charged with something, though what exactly it was he couldn't tell. Morrigan's golden hair gleamed in the low light, her brown eyes nearly black. Citrus and cinnamon shivered around him lacing every breath, every thought, with her.
"I am-" The words seemed to stick in his throat. "Unsure." He finished looking down to his siphons.
Morrigan took a deep breath, steadying herself. "There's a reason that we haven't been together." Her voice was just louder than a whisper. "A reason why I slept with Cassian once." Age old jealousy flared, like an old wound, before falling silent once more. "Azriel, I….I prefer females to males."
It took a moment for her words to register, but by then she was already plowing ahead, a frantic edge to her voice.
"I told Feyre, but I didn't want to change anything. I don't want you all to think of me differently. But, you deserve this. I love you like a brother, Az. Really I do love you. But...I know it's not the way you want. I won't be able to love you the way you want. The way you deserve."
Each word rang with truth, and hit Azriel like a blow. The hope that had lived quietly in his chest like a solitary flame against the dark quietly flickered out. Hollow. He felt hollow. Numb.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you." Tears began to fall and Azriel reached out, cradling Morrigan to his chest. Running fingers through her silken hair. Feeling her scent overwhelm his senses. "I don't want our friendship to change."
"It won't." He assured her even as it felt like his world was shattering. Five hundred years of hope just...gone. He knew better than to hope otherwise, her face had told him everything he needed to know.
He loved her, but it didn't matter. Not when she was crying like this. He would be what she needed, and that meant a friend. Even if it tore him apart. Left him feeling empty. Left him in shadows.
The scene left me in black. Sleep was blissful, but too short and soon sunlight and the sighing of trees slowly broke through the thick curtain of sleep. I opened my eyes to an overly bright room draped in reds and golds. So very bright compared to my old room. The light was thick and golden bursting through the wispy curtains with an exuberance that felt garish compared to the soft night scene I had seen. The grief I had witnessed and had felt in return.
It didn't matter, I told myself trying to push back the empty feeling in my chest. So what if Azriel would never give me a chance? I didn't need a relationship anyway.
I tried to push myself up and my body pulsed with a deep soreness. The night before flooded back. The nightmare creature, my blood pouring into the leaves as I lost control. The crackle and flash of fire. Beron, carrying me, offering me protection.
I shoved the thick comforter off of my body, peeling the red fabric back to see that my night court clothing had been switched with a thin white nightgown. A quick glance at my leg showed one being wrapped in bandages. As was my shoulder.
The room was large, the walls a deep and warm looking brown that complimented the reds and golds quite nicely. A wardrobe was left open, with something white tacked to one of the open doors. I got out of bed, groaning as I put pressure on my wounded leg. I was surprised that it didn't hurt worse given the abuse it had been put through last night. Same with my shoulder.
Limping, I made it to the wardrobe to see a full outfit hung and waiting for me alongside the note that had been tacked to one of the open doors.
Once you are awake, you are requested to present yourself before High Lord Beron immediately. The lettering wasn't english, I knew that for a fact, yet the strange symbols resolved themselves into sounds within my mind. I could read it. You have been provided clothing courtesy of the Autumn Court. When you are ready simply pull the cord near your door to summon a guide.
"Right," I muttered reaching out to grab the new clothing. It was a red dress, beautiful and simple with gold threads. A ribbon had been provided for my hair as well as what looked to be some black flats. Underthings as well. There was nothing else.
I sighed and dressed myself, surprised at the vibrance of the clothing against my skin. I found a mirror and winced at the stranger there. Dark circles were underneath her eyes, her silver hair shimmering in gentle waves around her face. The red of the dress seemed to only enhance the jet black runes on her skin, still somehow elegant and cruel on the soft body. There was more of a toned look to the muscles that wasn't there when I had first woken up in this world. It was hard to reconcile that it was really me in the mirror. That this was all real. Blue and green eyes flashed underneath thick lashes. I bit my lip and the stranger did the same, looking just as distressed as I felt. I used the brush that sat near the vanity and quickly tied my hair half-up half-down with the ribbon, letting the edges of the bow peek over my head.
It was a strangely youthful look, making the body look softer somehow. Less dangerous.
I shook my head, turning away from the mirror. Dangerous? I had never been dangerous to anyone but myself.
With nothing else to do, once again finding myself in an unfamiliar place, I followed the advice of the note and went to the braided golden cord near my door and pulled it.