One thing about Azriel- Once he made a promise, he never broke it. Perce woke up early, drained and sore. It was satisfying, however, though the thought of how she'd earned the pain made her blush deeply, so much she looked like a strawberry, with her thousands of freckles and red-flushed skin. Az was sleeping peacefully, the half-healed claw marks on his back from her nails, his nakedness covered only by a strip of sheet over his waist, his wing covering her. Her own wings wrapped around her body like a cocoon of darkness and cold, she kissed his forehead, a feather-light brush of her lips against his skin. Something in the air shifted slightly, a new scent floating towards them. Her eyes darted to the doorway, the High Lord's arms folded and a smirk on his face, startling her enough that she yelped and fell out of bed, wincing as her bony body hit the wood. "Oow," she groaned, then scowled at Rhys. "What do you want?" "My darling Feyre was worried about you both, when we couldn't find you at the House of wind or the other places. So I figured you were here, and what do I find?" She made a vulgar gesture, muttering curse words in Spanish. He laughed. "We're heading to the cabin for a few days. I do hope dear Azriel isn't too sore he can't have a bit of fun. I'm sure you know our traditions." "Yeah, get flat-out drunk and pelt each other with snow for hours on end." She'd always hated alcohol, and couldn't stand to be near someone when they drank, even if it was a tiny bit. It made her uneasy and scared. She shook her head, sitting up as best she could without revealing herself, wings wrapping tighter. Rhys shrugged. "It's fun. Mor and Feyre come, and I think Cassian's dragging Nesta with, you're welcome to talk to the girls while we 'get flat-out drunk'." Perce nodded, if only to get him to leave. He winnowed out, able to since the pair hadn't yet put up wards. Perce dressed, heading out to grab some things to make sandwiches, and when she came back an hour later with two bacon sandwiches, Azriel was just stirring. She kissed his neck. "Morning, sleepyhead," she teased, sitting in front of him and tapping his nose. He winced. "How," he groaned. "Oh, don't worry, it's agony, I'm just used to pain, I can handle it," she smiled. "I don't know if that concerns me or makes me feel better," he sighed. "I'm literally going to be Death someday, Azzie," Perce laughed. "Pain is different for me. But I'm so accident-prone I can handle most pain anyway. As in, yeah it hurts, but it doesn't bother me as much, if that makes sense." He pulled a pillow over his head, and Perce giggled. "I guess you're not hungry then." He paused. "I'm listening." "I made sandwiches. Don't judge, I love sandwiches. They're so… versatile, I s'pose." He pulled himself up, not bothering to put on even undershorts, and took one of the plates from her. "Hmm, true." "Rhysand said we're heading to the cabin, all of us. Is my poor Illyrian baby going to be too sore?" Just for that comment, he lifted an aching hand to her wing, grazing his scarred knuckles over where he knew would be sorest. She winced. "Rude. I'm going to pack and run a bath, eat your breakfast." With a kiss, she strode off to the attached bathroom, closing the door behind her and sliding into the hot bath. She ran over the events of last night, smiling as she thought of how Azriel had looked at her when she'd landed in the House of Wind. He'd straight-up dropped his drink, his focus on nothing but her. She caught her reflection in the bath's water. She was so pale the skin of her eyelids and where her lashes were was pink, her blonde-brown hair lighter at the ends. She missed Earth. She missed Mexico. A tear fell into the water, and she swallowed a sob. There was a rap of knuckles against the door. "Hey, you okay?" Azriel asked softly. He opened the door, finding Perce crying. "Hey," he breathed, kissing her forehead. "What's wrong?" "I- I just… miss Mama. I miss home," she sniffed, feeling childish. "I understand," Azriel told her, kissing her temple and gripping her bone-hand in both of his scarred ones. "When I was young, my father sent me to an Illyrian camp, away from my mother, who I was only allowed to see for an hour a week. I missed her so much. But then I met Rhys, and Cassian. Rhys's mother said I was like a stray cat, taking food she offered and then rushing off. I was scared, and alone. She practically had to drag me to their tent, and she cared for me like I was her own. I know how this feels, Percy." She nodded, and he left her alone, letting her sort things out. She felt much better knowing he wasn't just trying to make her feel better. He was her equal. The only one she'd believe when he told her how beautiful and wonderful she was. Death and her Angel.
They winnowed to the cottage's boundaries later on, everyone exhausted from their activities the night before, though they all seemed to have enough energy to tease Azriel about his. "Why me?" He groaned, shooting Perce a look that pleaded for help, making her laugh. He loved that laugh. "Because of you, this is our first holiday where the three of us are mated," Rhys winked, walking ahead with Feyre. "So of course we're going to make fun." Az, in one swift move while he walked, scooped up some snow, his shadows packing it into a ball, and threw it at the back of Rhys's head. He swore, and Feyre laughed as he rubbed the back of his neck, giving his brother a deadly grin. "I wish I could join, but… I'll be inside, it is your tradition," Perce smiled, kissing her mate's cheek and squeezing his shoulder before bounding through the deep snow. "Give 'em hell for me, babe!" She called over her shoulder, blowing him a kiss. He stared after her, moon-eyed, and Cassian threw a snowball that sent chunks of snow down his neck and back. Azriel grinned, catching Persephone giving him a look from the doorway. You just gonna stand there, or fight back? Her face said, and he was shocked to hear it down their bond clear as day. He snorted. Like Hell. Her answering smile widened quickly to a grin, revealing her braces. That's my Shadowsinger.
While the males pelted each other with snow, the Archeron sisters, Mor and Persephone sat inside in the warm, gossiping. Or rather, listening to Mor gossip, and sharing thoughts on things. They talked for hours, until the conversation turned to Azriel and Perce. "So, what's he like?" Mor asked Perce after a while. "Az? What do you mean?" "You know," Mor grinned, and made a gesture that made Elain wince. Perce blushed. "Well… I don't know…" "Mor, leave her alone, you know she can't stand sudden attention," Feyre sighed. Perce blushed hard, her countless freckles making her look like a dirt-covered tomato. "Okay, okay, I won't ask," Mor pouted. "But do tell what it's like being his mate." Perce relaxed at the more innocent question, as she interpreted it. "He's sweet, and funny, and always knows what you need. He cares for you, and makes you smile and laugh. He loves you for who you are, especially everything you hate yourself for. And he makes you believe those things aren't that bad." Her eyes filled with love, and a small smile settled on her lips. She gasped as snow was dumped down the back of the lavender sweater Mor had given her for Starfall. "Holy rabies that's cold!" She shivered, as it seeped down her neck into her chest, wrapping her arms and wings around herself tightly. Azriel, laughing, kissed the bones of her neck. "Sorry, my love. You did wish to be a part of the fight," he grinned. She made a frustrated noise. "That's freezing! Argh, it's like right near my lungs, you blobfish! I could sell my organs it's that cold!" "Blobfish?" He chuckled, rubbing her shoulders. "I suppose I deserve that. Though what exactly is a blobfish?" Their bond was unique, and they could convey feelings and images, but not thoughts, as neither were daemati. She shot an image down the bond, and Azriel made an exaggerated gasp of mock outrage. "How dare you," he fake-sniffed. "And here I was, thinking you loved me." "I see what you mean, Perce," Mor grinned. "Az hasn't been this jokey… ever." He shrugged. "She can do weird things to a male." "No shit," Nesta muttered, rolling her eyes. "Well, it's getting late. I do believe it's time for a drink," Cassian suggested, heading to the storeroom. He came back with enough drinks for all of them to end up passed out. Perce paled further, looking uneasy. Azriel gripped her hand with his scarred one. "I won't drink if you don't want me to," he said quietly. "No, it's fine. I wouldn't change a thing about you, Azzie, not even your drinking habits." "None for you, then?" Cassian asked Perce. She shook her head. "No, thanks." To his credit, Cassian just shrugged and flopped down beside Nesta, one arm behind her on the couch. Perce lay against Azriel's side, as he drew circles on her boned shoulder, drink in his other hand. She was tense, despite her insistence she was fine, and every so often, tiny movements set her shivering with the snow that still remained. It was Cassian who'd dumped it, hearing about how she wanted to join but didn't want to ruin their tradition, so he'd made a giant snowball and dumped it down her back, the thing heading into her body instead through her exposed neck. Her shadows would possibly vanish it, but eve then that'd would take a while. He draped his jacket over her like a blanket, as she lay half-asleep with her head buried in the crook of his shoulder and chest and her hand over his heart, the other gripping a fistful of his shirt. He could see why she wasn't fond of people drinking. Cassian grew wilder, and Mor was loud, blurting things about random people. He could see Feyre's and Rhys's disapproval as Nesta passed out, and Elain excused herself, not one to drink either. Azriel's thoughts circled back to Perce, now asleep. He thought of the way she loved too-big shirts, how she played with her ring and scratched her arm when she was nervous, how her right eye twitched almost constantly, and half the time she just kept it shut. She didn't seem to be able to tell how loud she talked, and was terrible with words. She joked it was because her brain and mouth had a terrible connection, her half-skeleton side messing around with her brain, and sometimes she'd jump into a conversation with something seemingly random, out-of-the-blue, irrelevant. He decided not to drink that night.
There were cold, wet spots on the bed from where melted snow had seeped out from her chest cavity and throat, soaking his chest. But Azriel didn't mind. It was Cassian's fault, though he wouldn't know about her chest. Only Azriel did. Only Azriel had seen her. She let out a rattling breath, nuzzling her cheek against his chest, smiling slightly and lost in her dreams, snatches sent down their bond. The ocean she'd described in the Otherworld, stretching into infinity, beautiful buildings floating above the expanse and connected by different bridges. Perce and Az laying together, talking and just being together, in a shady clearing in a forest. Sure, some of her dreams were on the weird side, but he liked it. She muttered something, and he began the process of gently waking her, pressing biting kisses to her jaw, neck and shoulder. Even the parts of her covered by flesh and muscle, he could feel every bone. She was too thin, even if it was natural. She groaned, tilting her head to give him better access, his canines and tongue brushing against skin and bone. Her eyes fluttered open, and she sighed, as he licked down her neck, biting her shoulder. Her hands raked through his hair, and he chuckled softly as she pressed herself flush against him. "We finish this later," he promised, kissing her lips once before standing and dressing, flaring his dark wings, light shining through the membrane. "You didn't even touch your drink last night," she said, yawning and stretching. Azriel heard every crack and pop of her stiff bones. He shrugged. "I didn't feel like it." She frowned. "I told you that you can drink if you want. I trust you." He turned to her, midway through buttoning up his shirt, seeing her with her arms around her legs, knees tucked under her chin. "Don't ever feel like you need to change for me," she added. His heart warmed and went cold at the same time, under the full focus of her eyes, shadows dancing like flame in the silver. "I don't. I just figured someone had to stay sober when they all dropped and passed out. Besides, it'll be funny to laugh at their hangovers." She nodded. Something else was bothering her. "What is it?" He asked carefully, folding his wings tightly. She shook her head, as though trying to shake something out, rubbing at her chest. She growled, pressing her hands into her eyes. He took all of two steps towards her before it stopped, and she shuddered, eyes fogging then clearing. She studied her left hand, lowering it from her eye. "I think I'm due for a rebuild," she marvelled, oblivious. "Oh, so we're not going to talk about that," he snapped, slightly panicked. She blinked at him. "Talk about what?" He kept the matter tucked in his mind, but decided to let it go for now. A bad move, but she seemed okay. "What's a rebuild," he asked carefully, trying to seem like everything was fine. He didn't want to panic, and he didn't want her to start worrying about him. She rolled up her shirt sleeve, pulling off her bone arm. "It's where I basically pull myself apart, clean everything and put it back together. Like… cleaning an engine on a car." He had no clue what she was talking about, but the memory accidentally sent to him through the bond explained it. "Let me do it," he offered, and took her arm. He marvelled at how strange yet perfectly normal it felt, and watched as she dressed one-handed, her left sleeve drooping and empty. "Here," she said, handing him a small vial. "You can mix it in some water after you take everything apart, and soak it for a while." She winced, sighing apologetically. "Told you being a living skeleton was high-maintenance." He relished the fact he could fuss over her, helping her clean and care for her bones, and the fact she did in fact trust him with her very body, trusted him to know what to do, to not break anything. "I'm gonna scare Cassian," she said simply, walking out of the room.
"No-one's gonna question this?" Cassian asked the group, as Perce walked in, rolling her eyes and missing an arm. "It's fine, Cassian. What about this?" She gripped the bones of her neck with her remaining arm, pulling her head clean off and pulling a face. Cassian winced. Mor laughed. "That is wicked! Put it back!" She howled, laughing her own head off. Perce replaced her head, and Rhys nodded, shrugging. "Not a bad trick. You could really help on the battlefield with that." "Just a few times," she said, and chewed a nail. "Let's hope you don't need battle tricks." "So where is your arm, anyway?" Nesta asked, Elain's face a delicate shade of green. "With Az. I'm long overdue for a rebuild, and he practically insisted on doing it, so here I am. Starving, to say the least." "I wasn't aware Death could starve," Amren's voice drawled from the door, the tiny Fae standing with Varian. "I've heard about you, Princess," the prince winked, and Perce grinned. Another chance to meet more characters. "Prince Varian. A pleasure." "The pleasure's all mine," he bowed, striding to her. "I do believe dear Amren told me you had two arms, however." "I can detach those parts," she shrugged. "Makes it easier to clean and stuff, so my mate's doing it." "The Shadowsinger? Well, I suppose that's all we males are good for, isn't it? Doting on females," he grinned. Perce laughed. "Yeah, well, among other things, I guess. I'm just grabbing some food, we'll be back out later." She snatched some bread off the table, heading back to her and Azriel's room. He'd finished detaching the bones from each other and was dropping them into the plugged sink, filled with water as he poured some of the vial's contents in with it. "Amren and Varian are here," Perce told him. "I was wondering if they'd show up," he smiled. "What's next?" She blushed slightly. "I'm impressed, and at the same time a bit embarrassed," she admitted. "But I appreciate you helping me. It's a nightmare to do on my own." He took her flesh hand in both of his, kissing her knuckles. "Anything for you."
After heading back to Velaris to their new home, finishing up with getting what they needed, Perce made dinner, her movements smoother and better than ever, thanks to Azriel. "Perhaps another round later, I did tell you we weren't finished," Azriel purred, watching as she cooked, head propped up on a fist. She gave him a look, smiling. "Gods, how long before I got here has it been…" She struggled with the wording. "How long was it before I got here since you've had a lover? If that makes sense, I can't think of a way to word it." He chuckled. Though, he thought, it had been some time now since he'd last taken a female to his bed. He shoved the thought away. Now, he could never imagine himself with anyone else. "Where'd you learn, anyway?" He asked her, as she slid his plate over and sat down in her own seat. "Learn what?" "Well, I was your first, yet you're quite skilled at those things. You must've learnt somewhere." She blushed. "I write romance novels. And… I read a lot of fanfiction." "Well, we'll eat first, and have a bit of fun after." She rolled her eyes, a smile perched on her lips. "Why am I agreeing to this?" "Because why the hell not?" Az grinned back. "You love me admit it." She stuck her tongue out at him. They ate in relative silence, Perce noticeably tired, but still perky. She yawned, after a while, rubbing her face and muttering to herself. "Sooo tired," she groaned, dropping her head onto the table. She didn't move, her breathing evening and deepening, and Azriel rubbed circles on her back, smiling at the matching tattoos on their arms. She inhaled sharply, groaning, and shook her head, her breathing turning ragged, shallow, uneven. Another of whatever happened at the cabin yesterday. He tried shaking her awake. "Perce. Percy. Wake up," he said firmly, worry setting in. "Persephone." Gasping, her eyes flew open, the silver focusing on his face. "I'm losing myself," she rasped. "I- I don't know what to do"- He hugged her. "It's gonna be okay. What do you mean by 'losing yourself'." She buried her head in his shoulder. "I don't know. But… there are times when I'm… not myself. I lose control, and… Ugh, I need Dad to explain this." "Do you think you'll be okay for a while, until we can talk to him?" Az asked her. She shrugged. "Do me a favour." "Of course." "Could you… when I go… feral, could you… tie me up? Like, even sedate me, if you have to, knock me out. Something. I can't hurt anyone."