Azriel

Something is bothering Elain. She barely made eye contact with me after her vision, or while she spoke of her plan for a shopping and entertainment district in Emunah. Even when I touched her hand at dinner she looked up at me and gave me a polite smile. Like last night had never happened. As though she hadn't asked me to stay with her, as though I hadn't held her all night. Does she not remember? Or is she ashamed? Does she regret the decision she made when she was one half drunk and the other half asleep? I force myself to pay attention to the conversation taking place over dessert.

"All I'm saying is that you would need to incentivize actors from Velaris to perform in Emunah." Rhys says, popping a cherry into his mouth.

Feyre is equally animated as she leans closer to him. "Not if we work something out with one of the theatre companies, and have them send their supporting actors to be leading players in Emunah. And for those wanting to get their foot in the door with a Velaris theatre company would jump at the opportunity to get experience in Emunah."

"How do we know there's interest in theatre outside of Velaris?" Rhys counters.

"How do we know there isn't?" Feyre smiles at him. "There are no other theatres open in Prythian. Definitely not on the human side of the wall. We had minstrels at best. Didn't we Elain?"

Elain perks up as though she hadn't been listening to their conversation. As though she hadn't been in the room at all.

"At best." She says.

"See?" My high lady stands and gathers the now empty plates as though Elain's word is law and she's somehow won the argument. I remain silent though I do feel my shadows hiding a grin. My gaze falls on Elain again hoping that she'll look up at me. She doesn't.

But Feyre does.

"Well I am exhausted. Rhys I think we should head to bed. Azriel do you mind staying and keeping Elain company?" She smiles wide and gives me a wink.

I don't know how she knows but she knows. Because Feyre is doing the same nudgy thing she would to Elain when Lucien was around. I need her to not. Just not. But I have no idea how to tell her to back off without admitting to what she thinks she knows.

Elain finally looks up at me.

There is unrest in the Fellin camp. My shadows report.

I close my eyes briefly. Really? Now? I try to keep my frustration off my face. I need to talk to Elain.

A mob is brewing. They fly on Cassian's camp in ten minutes. The shadows say.

Send a warning to Cassian. Let my spies know to stand ready. I respond.

"Rhys. A moment." My chair legs scrape against the hardwood floor as I stand.

Rhys looks at me curiously, then looks at Elain, and then back at me. I walk into the other room and he follows. "We have a problem. It's the Illyrians. They've put a mob together it's starting in the Fellin camp. We have five minutes. They're headed for Cassian. How do you want to move."

Rhys curses then wipes a hand over his mouth. "What are my options?"

"With the amount of loses they took during the war? You could winnow in and give them a warning, hope it will be enough. You could also make an example of a few of their people. Or you could let them march on Devlin's camp. My spies tell me it's too late to stop them. We have seven minutes."

Rhys glares at me but I continue anyway. "They can't claim that we've fabricated a story about Illyrian's attacking other Illyrians if an entire mob of them show up. Too many witnesses."

"We can't let that camp be destroyed again to prove a point."

"You're the high lord."

Rhys sighs and his eyes glaze over as he sends a silent message to his mate. "Let's go."

We winnow into the Fellin's camp. It's worse than I thought. At least two thirds of the camp are assembled on the main road, wings spread readying for flight. They've even allowed the females to carry torches. Rhys sends out a blast of darkness that throws everyone onto either their knees or their wings. Their faces register who is in their mist and I see genuine terror enter many of their faces. But not enough of them. The next moment every torch is extinguished and all that's left to glow are my shield and siphons and Rhys's deadly silver night. Rhys steps forward, the all encompassing leader of the night court, the strongest high lord in all of Prythian History.

"Would someone care to explain?" Rhys growls.

No one speaks. Fellin steps forward.

"We have had enough." Fellin says, hatred in his eyes. The worst kind of hatred, the kind that masks a pain so deep, so severe, that it makes you hesitate to strike. "We are not your blade to be used and broken and then tossed aside when no longer needed. We have suffered enough, lost enough, and yet you curse us. You house, that, that thing, in our midst."

Nesta. He means Nesta. My claws dig into my back to keep myself from growling. No one gets to call her a curse except her family.

"I am your high lord. Were I to decide it I could mist this entire camp into oblivion. With just a snap of my fingers." Rhys looks down purposefully at a boulder near by and snaps his fingers, making it disappear into mist. Finally I smell the whiff of fear I had been waiting for from Fellin. He wisely remains silent. "I understand there is pain here. The war was brutal on all of us. Losses have been heavy and we are grateful to your warriors for their sacrifice. But this anger and violence will gain you nothing but more corpses. So you have a decision. Allow yourselves to grieve, allow yourselves to heal. This female poses no threat to your people, do not foolishly put yourselves at risk for a threat that does not exist."

"We will consider." Fellin starts, pushing his shoulders back drawing himself to his full height. I almost snort. A less empathetic high lord would have had him slaughtered for just that hint of a challenge.

"You will give me your answer now. As there are really two choices. You choose to heal your people and forget this nonsense or you will be replaced." Rhys doesn't even have to mention that replacement also means death.

"We will take some time to…grieve." Fellin almost growls the last word.

"High lord." I say, placing a hand on truth teller.

Fellin's nostrils flare. "High Lord."

After one last sweeping glance across the crowd, during which I know Rhys, like me, memorized the names and faces of all those standing witness, those still holding weapons or unlit torches, he winnows away. A second later I follow. '

We both land onto the balcony of his study. Rhys's jaw is clenched and before I can stop him he takes a fist to the stone balustrade and breaks off a chunk of it from sheer force.

"Feyre's going to kill you." I say, trying to lighten the mood. This is usually Cassian's job in moments like this but my guess is that my brother is feeling rather volatile right now from the threat to his…Nesta. Whatever she is to him.

Rhys waves his hand and the stone piece is back in place like nothing happened. "I'm failing them."

"They're failing themselves. They are a stubborn people who train to be warriors their entire lives and yet they have no idea how to grieve when some of those warriors don't return home."

"They're our people."

"Your people. And only by half. You are welcome to embrace them as family and recognize that part of your identity. But as far as I can tell your mother is the only one of them who was ever kind hearted. I do not belong to those people."

"Then where did you come from Azriel? Because I know those bastards tortured you but you can't just divorce your entire culture because of it." Rhys says, like he doesn't know.

"As far as I'm concerned I am a dreamer who emerged from the shadows. I hate that lot, after thousands of years of inbreeding something has finally festered in that people. A cruelty that won't change."

"They are our largest army. We would not have won the war without them."

"There are a lot of people who were it not for them we would not have won the war. Including you, Rhys."

Rhys shrugs. Like it wasn't a big deal. Like he wasn't the critical key to saving the world from the massive rift the broken cauldron created. As though his decision to make Feyre the first ever high lady hadn't helped save the world and his own life. He still doesn't see, I am expendable, even Cassian is expendable but Rhys is not, and because of that…

"You do not owe the Illyrians anything. They are the ones who are in your debt. I agree that strategically it's likely not the best idea to annihilate all of them."

Rhys smiles. "Not the best idea but I will agree tempting at times."

Rhys' face glazes over and I know that he's silently communicating with his mate. Before I can take my leave Feyre comes out onto the balcony already in sleep clothes. She wraps her arms around Rhys' waist and he in turn brings his lips to her forehead. A gentle ache, barely noticeable tightens my chest, I would almost call the feeling envy but it's a sadder emotion than that. I want what they have, I realize. The question is it even possible for someone like me. And with the someone I want to have that with. My gaze shifts briefly over to the south toward where the house wraps hiding the line of balconies from the other bedrooms. From Elain's bedroom.

"You two want to come inside? We could all sit, if you want to continue the conversation." Feyre is still holding onto Rhys.

"In one second love." Rhys says.

"You two go inside, we'll speak more tomorrow. I have other business to attend to." Being deliberately cryptic. Rhys nods but Feyre gives me a knowing grin that makes my feet want to shift and my eyes to break her gaze. I force myself to remain still.

"Goodnight, Azriel." Feyre says and they head inside.

I winnow away but I don't go to far. Just to another balcony. I don't land right away though instead I stay hovering in shadow watching her for a minute. She's out on her balcony like she is every night. The candle has already burned low, she's been reading for awhile. It's my favorite time to watch her, like this. With her feet bare against the cushions and the loose wisps of her hair blowing gently in the wind. She's wearing a silver silk night gown that ends just past her ankles. In the moonlight I can see the outline of her delicate curves, the light jut of her hipbone which has thankfully filled in in the year since she turned Fae.

"I know you're out there." She says.

I don't move. How could she possibly sense my presence? I wait a few seconds and when I don't appear she frowns, a small notch forming on her forehead. Just before she goes back to her book, I clear away the shadows and reveal myself.

"How did you know?"

"More shadows." She says, like that explains everything. Unless maybe it does. Maybe she's come to realize that my favorite place is in the shadows, where I feel safest, where I feel most in control. Maybe I'm just reading too much into this. "So what was the big emergency tonight?"

"The Illyrians…again."

"How much of this is Nesta's fault?" She asks.

"None. The Illyrians have survived for millennia in some of the harshest climates by adopting a kill now, deal with emotions never policy. They don't understand Nesta and they hate Cassian, the two of them up there together…they feel like it's a threat."

"That's unfortunate." She says.

"It is."

Something feels different between us tonight. I can't identify exactly what it is but I hesitate to move closer to her like I would on other nights. Her gaze is still kind but it's almost like her inner light isn't glowing as brightly. As if she has left it on dim when usually she lets it beam straight at me. Like a beacon of warmth and kindness. I'm the moth and she is the flame. But the flame is burning too low tonight as though it's trying to keep me at arms length instead of drawing me in.

"Did you want to sit?" She asks, smiling at me.

Or maybe I'm just overthinking things. I take the cushioned arm chair to the right of her chaise, and I realize it's not the chair that's usually on her terrace, this one has been designed to accommodate Illyrian wings.

"I hope you didn't switch this chair out on your own." I say. Thank you. The word you were looking for is thank you, I badger myself.

"Oh no, Nuala and Cerridwen brought it up when I told them that I wanted to accommodate wings." Her cheeks take on a slight pink hue. Seeing the color bloom on her face makes that same heat bloom in my chest. "For you and Cassian and Rhys, of course. Quite discriminatory of me not to have a variety of furniture on my patio."

"Indeed." I grin.

She grins back. We sit in companionable silence for a few minutes but when she still doesn't bring up last night I start to shift slightly in my seat. When I look back over at Elain she is looking up at the stars, her lips pinch in what I could only call contemplation.

"So we haven't really talked about it, but I was serious about training you, I think I found a technique that may be helpful." I say, even though what I really want is to ask her about last night, and this morning. Why she wanted me to stay, hold her. Whether that was something she now regretted or if she wanted to ask me again. I don't remember ever sleeping as peacefully as I did when I had Elain in my arms.

"Is tomorrow too soon to start. I know that I wasn't always so open to, to training my…"

"Gift." I supply, knowing she doesn't see it that way.

"Sure." She grins. "Training my gift. But it would probably be good to control it and there are things that I'm interested in learning. Answers I want to try and find." The way she says it makes me think that there's something she's not telling me or there's a specific something she's looking for.

"We can start first thing tomorrow." I say. She nods quickly to herself, the gesture seems almost nervous. "If you'd like."

"That's probably a good thing. As of now it just sort of, um, comes over me, as quick as a sneeze, but less expected."

I can tell she's trying to keep her feelings light, but it's not working I see the fear, the pain, the confusion. But she's told me every vision she's had so far. And I know they're getting easier for her to understand, this past vision about Emunah was magnificent, but maybe she's keeping something to herself.

"Is there anything about your visions that I don't know about that you want me to?"

She looks at me as if she's seeing me for the first time. Her eyes seemed glazed over in a daze, as if she was lost in a memory until this moment.

"If you wanted something but knew it didn't have a happy ending would you pursue it in the first place?"

My first thought is of Mor. My love affair with the idea of her stronger than the reality of us as a couple. The distance between us, all of these months with her away and us apart have helped me come to terms with that. If I could go back in time and tell myself that it would never happen, that I should move on, would I?

"Whether I would choose not to act doesn't seem like it's the real question. I think the real question is could I make those feelings go away. And I don't think that I would have been able to."

She's sits up leaning closer to me. "But would you? If you could?"

Would I have chosen to not have loved Mor at all if I had the ability, if it was as easy as turning off a switch?

"No. I don't think so. Feelings and experiences, even the hard ones, the heartbreaking ones, I think they make us who we are."

Her gaze meets mine and a small smile crosses her lips. "I don't think I can help it either."

Then her lips find mine.