"How's this one?"
"Too modest."
"And this one?"
"Too flashy."
"You're impossible Emerie, really," Nesta huffed out, adding the rejected dresses to the towering pile of fabric on her bed. She groaned once more, turning her attention back to the remaining backless dresses in the closet that awaited Emerie's approval.
Amused by the friendly bickering happening before her across the room, Gwyn couldn't help but let out a small ring of laughter. She shifted in the armchair, placing the latest Sellyn Drake novel down on the accommodating side table. There was nothing she enjoyed more than witnessing the ditsy quarrels that came with their friendship.
"And what are you laughing at?" Nesta tossed the priestess a scowled glare over her shoulder, her hands still fiercely navigating through the sea of hangers in the closet. "You're next." Nesta announced, a fierce grin on her face.
"I'm sure I'll be more lenient than Emerie." Gwyn suppressed a giggle.
Emerie tossed herself atop the pile of dresses, her tired wings sprawled beneath her. She crossed her arms behind her head, now angling her chin at Nesta. "What can I say? I have a rather refined taste of fashion."
"Oh please," Nesta hissed. "If it was up to you, you'd wear your leathers to Starfall."
"Well, for your prying information, I just washed them."
Nesta halted her rapid sorting, her eyes fixed on a certain red garment. "This is the one." She pulled the dress from the hanger and tossed it to Emerie. The crimson-colored frock landed across her chest. "And do not argue with me on this one." Nesta nodded once.
"Well, I do like red." A smile was now plastered on her face, as she gracefully stood with the dress in her hands.
"As for you, Gwyn." Nesta threw the priestess a grin. "I actually have something you."
"Oh?" Gwyn raised a brow, curiosity dancing behind her widened, teal eyes.
"I know we celebrated your birthday last week, and I know you said you no gifts, but-" The look on Nesta's face was mischievous, as she carefully took out a garment from her closet. "We couldn't help ourselves, forgive us."
Awestruck by the unexpected gesture, and at the elegancy of the gown being held before her, Gwyn sniffed, trying her utmost to not bawl into the arms of her friends.
"It matches your eyes!" Emerie chimed.
Besides the necklace that was strangely gifted to her, Gwyn had never been gifted anything of such sentiment, and of such value. The priestess seemed frantic; eyes wide with disbelief. She swallowed her emotions before she spoke softly, "This… This is for me?"
"Yes Gwyn, for you." Nesta assured, as she gently pushed the garb into Gwyn's arms.
"Are you absolutely sure?" Gwyn blinked the moisture in her eyes away.
"Cauldrons, yes!" Nesta barked out a laugh.
"I-" Gwyn tightened her lips. Try as she might, it was difficult to keep her voice intact and unbroken. Heat began to pool beneath her eyes. "I don't know how I can thank you both."
"Thank me later with a dance." Nesta gave her a wink, replacing Gwyn's sentiments with a fit of laughter.
Minutes began to stretch, seeming like endless hours, as the three prepped and primed themselves, all whilst soaking in each other's company.
"Can I open my eyes now?" Gwyn scrunched her nose, still holding still and steady on the vanity chair. Nesta grunted, as she continued to brush the outer corners of Gwyn's eyelids with bronze-colored powder. "Practice patience, Valkyrie."
"Where's Cassian, Nesta? I'm a little surprised he hasn't barged in the room yet." Emerie asked, braiding her hair with the most cautious fingers. Every strand was perfectly tucked in place, creating a beautiful cascading effect.
"He's probably out there already, with Rhys and the rest of them."
"What about Azriel? It's been a while since we've seen him around." Emerie continued.
"Still in Windhaven I suppose." Nesta murmured, not really sure of what was going on with the spymaster of the Night Court. With a few more strokes of the eye-brush, Nesta let out a sigh of relief. "There, Gwyn, you can open those big eyes of yours now."
"Thanks, Nesta." Gwyn stood, letting her gown fall to her feet. She stared at both her sisters now. "How do I look? Strange?"
Gwyn's floor-length ensemble fit her seamlessly, like a glove, perfectly flattering every curve she possessed. The strapless bodice was formfitting, accentuating every inch of her small waist, all while pushing up her generous chest. The deep-teal color was muted, subtle, but daring enough to attract attention.
Emerie had braided Gwyn's hair just like she had done her own. The usual silk-like copper was now interlaced with such complexity and care, forming a long braid that was thrown over her bare shoulder. Nesta had carefully curated her makeup, a sheen of bronze and charcoal were pressed against her lids, while her full lips were kissed with a color of scarlet. Seeing the priestess done up in such a fashion, was something neither Emerie nor Nesta had ever seen.
"Berdara," Nesta scoffed, placing a hand over her heart. "I think I might have a crush on you now."
"Cauldron, spare me." Gwyn buried her face in her hands.
"Well, I'd love to continue flirting with you two, but I believe we have a party to attend." Emerie tapped her heel impatiently.
"Emerie," Nesta crossed her arms, a brow raised high on her face. "What's with the rush?"
At a loss for words, Emerie shifted her feet. "Whatever do you mean?"
"It's almost as if you're eager to see someone." Gwyn added, wiggling her shoulders.
"You're... you're both really something, I hope you two know that." Emerie straightened her perfectly pressed dress.
"Well, alright, shall we then?" Nesta asked, linking herself between her two chosen sisters.
The balconies hosted what seemed like an endless sea of bodies. Slight chatter and laughter was heard in abundance, along with the clinking of glasses filled with generous amounts of wine.
Gwyn couldn't help her wandering gaze, settling it from person to person. The newness of this sparked a light within her. She had never been to an actual party before, instead had only been told about them by retelling accounts. Gwyn couldn't picture this to be her life just a mere two years ago, hiding herself in her entirety in the library below.
In the front and center of the balcony, stood the regal High Lord and High Lady themselves, along with their infant son in their arms. They were surrounded by their closest friends, including the middle Archeron sister, the sister Gwyn had never seen before. She was dressed in a stunning pink gown, and donned the most beautiful golden-brown waves Gwyn had ever seen. Truly, she was just as radiant as her sisters made her out to be.
But all Nesta could do was give them a firm smile and nod, knowing full well she'd speak with them later. Instead, she chose to break a toast with her chosen sisters instead. The three found themselves leaning against the balcony's railing.
"House, some wine please," Nesta asked the air and was suddenly greeted by three glasses of brick-red wine between them. "Thank you." She grabbed her glass from the railing and raised it high. "Let us drink and be merry, yes?"
"We've gone through a horrendous amount this past year; we deserve this much," Emerie couldn't help but snicker as she picked up her own glass. Gwynn softly chuckled, smelling the gaudy wine now nestled in her hands.
They drank in their comfort, speaking lightly of the night. It wasn't until a familiar Illyrian appeared behind Nesta that they all halted their voices for. "Ladies, ladies," Cassian snaked an arm around Nesta's waist, pulling her in closer to his proximity. "Aren't we all looking rather dashing tonight?" His golden eyes trailed to the subdued goddess that was his mate. "You clean up well." He gave her a daring smirk.
"I wish I could say the same about you." Nesta tilted her head to the side, a fire kindled in her eyes as she gawked at her mate.
Cassian couldn't suppress his deafening laughter at the eldest Archeron sister's hurtful words. He placed his callous hand over his chest, tapping it lightly. "Still after my own heart I see."
"You can put it that way, if you'd like." She playfully shrugged.
"Cassian, where's Azriel? Has he returned?" Emerie questioned. Gwyn shifted her feet at the mention of his name.
"Unfortunately not." Cassian's mouth turned into a hard line. "He was supposed to arrive a few days ago, but decided to extend the mission, voluntarily."
"Extend? Willingly?" Nesta raised a brow. "How could he miss Starfall?"
Cassian shrugged, "Az will be Az."
"Well, he left you all the trouble of training a ring full of priestesses by yourself." Emerie snarked. "I'm sure he'll need some retribution."
"I'll make sure he repays me." The Illyrian crossed his arms, all signs of seriousness gone as he scrunched his nose.
In a matter of seconds, the lights below them began to vanish. One by one, the rows of buildings in Velaris began to swallow themselves in complete darkness. It didn't take long until the entirety of the hushed city was engulfed in black.
It didn't take much to get Gwyn excited, but to wait for something of such reclaimed beauty was enough to send pins and needles all over her skin. A bout of adrenaline ran through her veins, unsure of where to survey the sky.
And then it happened. A single spirit-star, the color of burning white and blue, flew right across the vast, endless sky. Shortly after the first star came another, and yet another, until a drove of stars began to glide across the night sky.
Cheers erupted through the balconies. And just as mentioned, the orchestra began their symphonies. Gwyn turned her head, noticing pairings now dancing throughout the balconies. The warmth in her body rose, having never witnessed such an exhilaration before. Wide eyes glazed in wonder, each star seeming as if it was much faster and much more brighter than the last.
"If you'll excuse us, we must resolve our argument through dance." Cassian tipped his head to the remaining set of Valkyries as he began to drag Nesta away in his arms.
"Gwyn! You owe me a dance later!" Nesta managed to say before Cassian dragged them both in a quick rhythm and out of range. Gwyn couldn't help her smile as Nesta began to dance with such grace and poise. She could have watched her dance for hours on end.
"Mates are strange, aren't they?" Emerie asked Gwyn, her chocolate-colored eyes never leaving the illuminating stars that planed by.
"What do you mean?" The priestess furrowed a brow.
"I mean, the idea of mates." Emerie pursed her lips together before speaking once more, "The cauldron really pairs you with someone you might not even like." She took another sip of her wine. "And that's supposed to be your person, your mate. It's such a bizarre concept to me. What if you never meet them? Or what if you've only met them once and the bond didn't snap then?"
"That's awfully specific of you, Emerie." Gwyn smiled. "Have you been thinking about this?"
"I just can't help my curiosity at times." Emerie tapped a finger on her rose-colored lips, her eyes never leaving the spectacle above them. "Sometimes I myself wonder if I have a mate."
"It's rare." Gwyn assured her.
"Well, who knows, it seems as if they're given out like glasses of wine these days," Emerie scoffed. "Gwyn, you might have a mate out there somewhere as well and not even know it."
Freckled fingers pulled a copper stray hair behind her perked ear. A blanket of pink tinged her just as freckled cheeks. "I wouldn't think so."
"I wouldn't put it past you."
"Ladies! Why are we standing around?" A daring Morrigan appeared between the two, wrapping her arms over their shoulders. The smell of warm cinnamon and sweet wine hung between them. "I refuse to let the only female Carynthians continue Starfall without dancing. Come dance!"
"I… I could dance." Emerie announced, her voice so small for once that it shocked Gwyn. Gwyn eyed her once bold friend, as she had never seen her so nervous before.
"Gwyn?" Emerie reached for her freckled arm. But Gwyn raised a small hand in protest, a smile overtaking her painted lips. "I think I'll sit and enjoy the view for a little while more, you two enjoy yourselves."
A red-faced Emerie gave Gwyn a fierce nod, her timidity in full effect. Mor waved to Gwyn, as she hauled Emerie to the bustling crowd of dancing bodies. They held hands, as they began to swirl around one another. Gwyn had never seen Emerie beam with such radiancy before. Pleased with her plan, Gwyn patted her own shoulder on a job well done.
She stood, smiling at the animated crowd around her. It was a joyous time, and she wanted nothing more than to surround herself with her friends, her sisters, but something tugged at her to take the house's stairs upwards. Something ached in her, to enjoy the mystery and the marvel that was Starfall in her own solitude, even if it was just for a moment.
The air in the training ring that was nestled atop of the House was much more brisk, cold, but held the same spectacular view that was offered from the balconies below. Perhaps even more beautiful, as the elevation allowed Gwyn to see the endless number of stars at a closer distance. She stared in awe, still stuck on the wonder that was Starfall. Her fingers clutched onto the railings of the training ring, tapping on the stone beneath them.
"House," Gwyn cleared her throat from any obstruction. "May I have my wine, please?" And at her request, her half-drunk glass appeared on the railing once again. The same lipstick stain still printed on the glass. "Thank you, house." She smiled to the air, addressing it properly.
Finding peace in her solitude, Gwyn continued to sip her glass, and enjoyed the wonder above her head. Her head angled back, and her elbows propped on the railing. For a second, she closed her eyes, still being able to see the luminous glow through the darkness of her lids. The music could still be heard, as harmonious and as lovely as ever, even from the distance she now carried between it.
Curiosity sparked within her, as she recalled Nesta telling her that each star, each spirit, was on a yearly migration to an unknown destination that no one but themselves knew. Gwyn wondered, wondered where each star was going, and who or what they were so eager to see. She wondered if they had faced trials as she had, if the spirits lived fulfilling lives, or lives of dread or perhaps even a mixture of both. And she wondered if one day she'd join them too, if one day she'd gleam across the sky in search of her own destination, to a place of wonder and secret.
It wasn't until a quiet thump could be heard across from her that she shook from her quiet daze. The pair of feet that had slightly collided with the stone echoed, as they began to walk towards her. Gwyn opened her eyes, unafraid at the sound. Azriel, still dressed in his leathers, met her gaze. Gwyn could only assume that he had just arrived from the extended mission he had given himself. However, his gaze seemed tired, weak, and she couldn't help but see him wear a sense of hurt behind his stone demeanor. He tucked in his wings behind him, as he offered her a tight smile.
"Oh." She couldn't help but let out, thoroughly surprised by the appearance of the male before her. She straightened herself, setting her wine on the railing. "Hello, shadowsinger."
"Gwyn." He greeted, walking himself to her side, his back now nestled against the railing. "I wasn't aware you were here."
"Isn't that always the case?" A corner of her lip tugged upwards, as his shadows began to stir around his shoulders.
"Enjoying Starfall?" He asked, looking up at the spectacle that graced the sky above them.
"So far."
"Why aren't you with the others?" He raised a questioning brow, meeting her stare once more.
"I could ask you the same." Gwyn retaliated, raising the same brow in response, a hand now placed firmly on her hip.
"It's rather… complicated." His voice was low, running a hand through his onyx-colored tresses.
Without speaking of it, Gwyneth Berdara knew the complexities and tribulations that cloaked the brooding warrior. Nesta had spoken of Azriel's hurt, of his longing for the middle Archeron sister. She had heard from her chosen sister, of the fixation he held for her, and of the spite he held for her mate. She knew Elain was out in the balconies, perhaps dancing with her sisters now, or being forced to at least. And she knew the hurt it would bring the shadowsinger to only be able to admire her from afar.
Gwyn frowned, not wanting to pry into any sentiments he held. She'd never enquire, not even in a jokingly matter, into his hurt without being spoken to about it first. "I see" She simply replied, giving him a chaste smile. An apologetic look fell upon her face.
Not wanting to linger further on the issue, Azriel nodded, "Well, what about you? I'm sure Emerie and Nesta are searching for you."
"They're plenty occupied." She tucked a hair behind her pointed ear. "Besides, I wanted to see Starfall on a higher elevation. It's much more beautiful. Wouldn't you agree?"
"I agree."
"It's the first time I've seen Starfall." Gwyn admitted, her attention quickly averting back to the crystal-like sky. Her teal eyes followed the luminosity of the spirit-stars. "Last year, I accidentally took my sleeping tonic too early and slept through the entire thing."
"Really? Your first?" He asked, a shock in his tone. "If that's the case, you should really get back to your friends, Gwyn. Starfall is sacred, special, it's supposed to be spent with those you care about."
"I'll go back, eventually. I just wanted some solitude, some time to reflect, to think." She clasped her hands behind her back. "A lot has happened this year. I couldn't think of a better time to muse and reflect, especially with such a view happening above me."
Shame landed on his face, as if guilt ate at him for invading the time she chose for herself. "I apologize for interrupting you. I can leave if you'd like."
"No, Shadowsinger, you're fine," She raised a hand in protest, something she did a lot of tonight. "You're adding to the element."
The music was still as fierce as ever. Melodies of a perfectly orchestrated symphony surrounded them around the ring. Gwyn couldn't help but sway her head, the vision of Nesta waltzing on the balcony never left her mind. One day, she'd hope to dance with a male just as Nesta can, with the same grace and poise and laughter.
But Gwyn peered her eyes at Azriel, as a preposterous thought found its way into her head.
"Azriel," she managed to say under her breath. She cleared her throat, making sure her following words were as clear as glass. "Usually, I'd ask you for a spar, but seeing as I'm not dressed for the occasion, perhaps I'd ask you for a dance."
The clouds of obscurity that hung around his shoulders began to peek up around him at her proposition. It was almost as if they had answered for him.
"Is that an invitation?" Azriel cocked his head to the side, his obscured shadows now restlessly stirring on his shoulders.
"It's whatever you make of it." Confidence graced her voice.
"Very well, invitation it is."
Azriel strode forward, now standing tall in front of the bold woman. But before he could fall into step with her, he halted slightly, as his hands hovered just slightly above where they should be rested. It was almost as if he was waiting for her approval. Azriel had always given her his utmost caution when it came to touching Gwyn.
But what he didn't know, was that Gwyn had already become so accustomed to his touch, just as she became so accustomed to the touch of Nesta and Emerie. Their meticulous training had required contact of the skin. From helping her properly handle weapons, to correctly adjusting her stance, to holding onto him and being held onto while he flew and winnowed her throughout, she had become familiar with the feeling of his careful hands on her.
Gwyn nodded, answering his silent question. Her smile never faltered.
With her silent approval, a wary hand carefully rested on her waist, while the other began to find her own hand. With the most delicate touch, Azriel wrapped his scarred hand around her own, bringing them up together. The red-head angled her chin in response to his careful actions. She admired his benevolence, his thoughtfulness, but didn't mind a firmer grasp.
"You should know I'm not made of porcelain."
With her reassuring words now into play, Azriel pursed his lips, and tightened his hold on her waist and hand to a more steady level. The spymaster drew her even closer now, flushing their awaiting bodies just slightly, to the point where he can feel her chest against his. And with their bodies now properly placed, they began to fall into step.
The music was rich, melodic, as the two had begun to sway back and forth, side to side. The assembly of instruments continued their tune, the various notes blending together in harmony. It was a symphony filled with so much dynamic, and softness, that it had made Gwyn beam with elation. Darting shadows began to swarm around them, as if they themselves wanted to join them in their impromptu dance. Gwyn couldn't help but smile in amazement, as the gloating shadows brushed the length of both her arms.
"You'll have to forgive them; they seem to have a mind of their own around you."
"I find them very charming." The shadows continued to swarm to her response.
"I think they find you very charming."
A soft chuckle escaped her, as they then brushed themselves against her face, finding themselves resting against her cheek. "I also find them very ticklish."
"Don't say that, you'll only encourage them."
In a twirl of dance and shadows, the two moved in a perfect sync to the symphony playing before them. As the song progressed, Gwyn felt more and more relaxed. Azriel's touch became a reminder that this brief period of time was surely real, that no one would be able to take this from her.
It was only until Gwyn felt a pressure atop her foot that they broke their circling. A warrior so skillfully trained, that was deemed so graceful with every movement, was truly not the most coordinated in a game of dance. "Shit. Sorry, Gwyn," Azriel quickly apologized at his mishap.
"Really, shadowsinger? Five centuries young and still can't manage your feet to move in the right direction?"
Azriel couldn't help his impending laughter. "I never said I could dance." He swallowed another laugh, "Properly."
"With your open admittance, you're forgiven."
"Well, if I may state, for someone not nearly as old as I am, you dance rather… well."
"I think it's the nymph part of me that allows me to be so fluid in my movements," Gywn admitted, shortly before humming in thought. "But in Sangravah, they'd play music at the temple often. Catrin and I learned how to dance, together. Although I must admit she at times was also a terrible dance partner, but we still managed. I suppose I also have her to thank."
He never heard her speak of Catrin before. Hearing her speak of Sangravah, of her twin sister, was unheard of to the spymaster, foreign almost. Vile, malicious memories were made there for Azriel himself, for the ravenous shadowsinger that slaughtered every Hybern soldier on sight that night. It was an abundance of events he'd rather forget, that he'd rather wish it never happened at all, that Gwyn never experienced any hurt that night.
But knowing that she held onto those endeared memories she created in a place of such venom, of such horror, made the aching pang in his chest ease just slightly. And knowing that Gwyn, who had gone through such unspeakable hell in that temple, can still smile at the thought of her sister, made his mind ease.
But it wasn't until he made light of her entire wording that he wore a puzzled look on his face. "Wait a minute, are you calling me a terrible dance partner?"
"I might've." She playfully grinned up at him. The passing of the stars above them reflected in her teal eyes.
"How many times will you insult me tonight, Berdara? Should I prepare myself for another one of your attacks?"
"No, shadowsinger, I think I've hurt you enough for tonight."
A rather sizable star, so brilliant and so vivid, overtook the sky above them. It lit the entire training ring, as the two slowed their movements with one another, and both looked up in admiration. Gwyn squealed in delight, pure amusement lingered on her face. Her eyes were wide with thrill, and her full lips slightly parted. It didn't take long for a beaming smile to find her.
"Isn't that amazing?" Her voice was low enough for both to hear.
Hazel eyes went from scanning the skies, to resting themselves once again on the woman before him. Azriel had never seen her outside of her leathers or robes. To be graced to dance with the Gwyn before him, this radiant, powerful Gwyn, was truly a sight to behold.
"You look nice, Gwyn."
The surprise of his comment caught her completely off guard. She blinked a total of three times. "Thank you," the priestess spoke softly, and continued to add, "I'll be sure to remember that you said that while I'm drowning in my sweat during training tomorrow."
He smirked. "I'm hoping you won't wear that dress tomorrow. I'd hate to see it ruined."
"I would as well."
"Is it new?" He asked, eyeing the dress that hugged her every dip and curve.
"Oh, well, yes." She looked down at the garment that clung between their bodies. A slight blush appeared on the apples of her cheeks, which only complimented the specks of her freckles. "Nesta gifted me this dress for my birthday. It was unexpected."
He almost halted his steps as her words caught him entirely off guard. "Your birthday?" He asked, his voice was with a tone of question. A mark of hurt was shone on his handsome face.
"It was last week. It's nothing to lose sleep over." Gwyn assured him.
"I'm sorry I missed it."
"If you are as sorry as you say you are, then I will consider this dance a birthday present from you."
"If that's the case, then I'll make sure to give it my all."
"Shouldn't you be doing that regardless?" Her eyes narrowed.
"I can't win with you, Berdara." Azriel released an obligated, long sigh, just before feeling his lips twitch.
"I don't expect you to."
Gwyn could have sworn she felt his hold tighten. The feeling of his hands in hers, on her waist, was enough to bring her warmth, both physically and mentally. Still entwined, and still moving to the careful orchestration, his shadows began to wrap themselves between them both, almost as if they were trying to bound them together. Teal eyes stared at the curious creatures in awe, wondering what their intentions were.
"You'll have to excuse them." Azriel swallowed.
"I don't mind, really." The shadows brushed her arm at her response. Gwyn smiled, and this time, it was for both Azriel and his shadows.
Whatever strange friendship they had forged over the past year, was something Gwyn had grown fond of. Although they met unconventionally, in a dark and desolate place and way, Gwyn couldn't be more grateful at the relationship they had formed. Grateful not only for their unexpected friendship, but for his guidance, advice, and for the protection she felt when he was with her. And although she ached to thank him, as the words formed at the base of her throat, she swallowed them, and opted to thank him for something else instead.
"Thank you," Gwyn exhaled a small smile. "For my birthday present."
"I hope it was to your liking."
"It was."
A sudden burst sounded above over their heads. A sound so unusual it sounded like a thunderclap. An unforgiving star had collided with another, a sight so beautiful, so rare, it left them both at a loss for words. The explosion of brilliant, reflecting light had begun to trickle downwards. Specks of the remaining star had landed all around them, even subtly dusting themselves between Gwyn's freckled cheeks. A mixture of luminous white and blue had powdered the training ring, a picture so strange, that it would surely stick with them forever.
After thoroughly experiencing a wave of shock, Gwyn looked back at Azriel. She had almost forgotten she was still flushed in his arms, as their dancing had now completely seized. And in that moment, in between the sudden plight, was when he let out the most joyous laugh she had ever heard. A sound so harmonious, and so infectious, it had caused her to burst in the same laughter in response.
"Never in my five centuries had I ever seen that happen," Azriel managed to speak in between his fit.
"Well, there's definitely a first for everything."
The chord of his glorious laughter had gently seized, but his mouth had remained slightly parted. The striking sight that was before him was one he could rival with the one above him. His amber-colored eyes had softened at Gwyn. She had always been beautiful, but in this precise moment, filled with laughter and radiance, she was phenomenal. It was a beauty so unapparelled, it could have brought him to his knees.
"Gwyn-" He spoke softly, his breath so close that Gwyn had felt its warmth on her cheeks. Just for a moment, the world stood still. It was just them two, and the sharp, cold of the heavy night, and the vivid stars dancing high above them. The orchestra of strings, and golden harps, and light drums echoed around them. But even Gwyn knew the melodies they heard weren't loud enough to cover the sudden pounding of her heart.
It was but a moment so intimate, so magnetic, she'd be sure to wrap it, and treasure it for the remainder of her days.
But he spoke once more, before he let it go any further. His shadows still tightly bounded them together, "Perhaps we should join the others. I'm sure they're looking for you."
"Perhaps." The corner of her lips pulled upwards.
"Care for a ride? I promise not to collide with anything on the way down." His hazel eyes glowed with the reflection of the stars. His wings stretched behind him, awaiting her response. Gwyn nodded, her lips still bearing her smile. "Shall we then?" He asked, his hands now reaching out to her. Gwyn wrapped her arms around his neck, something she wish she had done while they were dancing, entangled in the music. Azriel placed a hand on her waist, and another in the back of her knees. He gave her a firm nod, before darting over the rail, downwards towards the balconies below.
They landed with a soft thud on one of the many balconies in the House of Wind. Nesta was as white as a sheet, eyes wide as Azriel set down Gwyn with such delicacy.
"I was looking for you." Nesta scowled at her sister. "Care to explain how you ended up with him?"
"We ran into each other." Azriel spoke nothing but the truth.
"Truly. We did." Gwyn assured a fuming Nesta.
But Nesta's playful flames subsided, as a smirk overtook her red lips. "Well, come on now, you said you'd save me a dance, dear priestess."
Nesta took Gwyn in her arms and spun her so effortlessly. Another fit of laughter left Gwyn's lips, as Nesta danced with her in the way that Gwyn had admired so much. She let her head fall back, letting Nesta haul and spin her to the sway of the music.
And although content with life, and content with the abundance of happiness she surrounded herself with, a feeling of anguish, and of hurt still silently ate at her. It was like living with a whisper that bounced between ear to ear, daily, monthly, yearly. A secret she so heavily carried, and so torturously buried deep within, that she couldn't help but feel a slight ache in her chest. It was constant, gnawing at her from her insides, from the moment she awoke, to the moment she allowed herself to enter a slumber.
She often compared it to being confined and locked in an empty room, with no real key, and no plausible way out. And regardless of how much she attempted to fiercely turn the knob, or to scratch her way out, she was stuck, indefinitely, a prisoner in her own mind. But it wasn't by force, no, but by sheer choice, due to the fact she would never force such an extremity on someone, anyone. She would never dare.
It was a secret so loud, and so lonely, and a secret she would guard with the entirety of her heart.
She couldn't help her smile as she saw Azriel, his own smile now on his tired face, as he silently approached the beautiful woman draped in pink.
Her mate's happiness was enough for her.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Uploading my finished A03 Gwynriel story on my FF account. Don't mind me!
