A Whisper of Shadow

A continuation of the extra chapter centering around Elain and Azriel. I do not own anything, I just greatly admire SJM and her lovable characters.

Elain Acheron sat by the window in her room, waiting. Watching.

Her eyes scanned the skies, then the gardens, only to loop back to the skies. She noted any movement, any shadow, any flicker of light. All was quiet, in these moments lazily advancing towards the dawn. The house miraculously was as well, although she didn't doubt her sisters were still enjoying their mates as thoroughly as they could.

Elain pulled her knees to her chest on the window seat and stubbornly kept watching the shadows, begging for them to move. Praying for them to solidify in his usual place, so she could escape this hell. Silence clung to her, to her room. Expectant silence. It seemed to wait, just as she did.

She needed to talk to Azriel. She needed to catch him before that awkwardness festered and ruined everything.

This was a mistake.

Those words clanged through her, making her feel hollow and cold. Azriel had never made her feel like that before. Not once. He'd always made her feel safe. Made her feel seen, despite just doing simple things while the rest of the family changed the world. He'd never once made her feel less, not intentionally.

A noise make her jump, her eyes quickly scanning outside, but it was nothing. Just a log settling in the fireplace. No one appeared. Elain bit a curse, and willed time to hurry past. She'd been listening, always listening. She knew the three males always headed out together for their annual snowball fight early, then spent the entire day up in the mountains. Honestly these males. They were no better than human children sometimes. Oftentimes. The way the three brothers acted at least. She wasn't sure about the others...

A tense thought for her 'mate', and how stiff he'd seemed all Solstice had Elain frowning. How formal in comparison he seemed. Elain had grown to love her sister's family, their loose formality and endless search for fun and joy. It made her feel alive after the trauma she'd suffered at the hands of the Cauldron. Yet, Lucien's presence felt like a heavy blanket, snuffing out that free-reign she felt in the company of the overgrown children the Acheron sisters had fallen in love with. Elain nibbled at her lip, twisting a bit of her nightgown between her fingers as she tried not to think too long on that. Love.

Elain twisted her fingers together, trying not to feel the rush through her veins that had accompanied the feel of Azreil's hands on her skin. Those beautiful hands. She forced herself to look outside once more, comforted by the sight of the sleepy garden below. Feyre and Nesta had been lucky with their mates. They had each been chosen, not assigned. Guiltily, Elain wished for the same. Why had she been given a mate, when she only wished to choose for herself. After everything that had happened, Elain had thought she'd escaped that humanly duty to 'marry well', only to discover she was the only one still bound by that duty. Except, it wasn't her father that had chosen her mate, but the all-powerful Cauldron.

Elain's eyes avoid the mirror on the opposite side of the room, where she could catch her reflection if she choose. She knew what she'd see there. The face her father had loved. The face her mother claimed would buy her every desire, and a bidding for her hand. Elain had begun to avoid mirrors of late, for that fact alone. She didn't want to be that woman anymore.

A pretty face. That's all she was. That's all she'd ever been. Everyone thought she was simple, sweet and inclined to love anyone and everyone, but she wasn't. She knew her role and she had filled it without question before but... the war had changed her.

The sweet dutiful daughter, the pretty face that was a distraction, the soother of tempers hadn't escaped Hybern's camp. She doubted she'd ever even escaped the Cauldron, but she'd certainly not survived killing the King of Hybern. Well, Nesta had taken that knife from her before she'd been actually able to do it but... she would of done it if Nesta hadn't.

Elain closed her eyes, vanishing the image from her mind with one thought of shadow and smiles. When she opened her eyes again, she didn't see the blood on her hands. She didn't feel the crunch of bone and flesh under the blade... but...

The question remained. Who was she? What, exactly, was she?

She'd only just started to feel like herself again. Working in the kitchens gave her purpose, keeping up with the needs of her family made her feel useful but… Elain was torn. Torn between that old role of duty and obedience, and one of unrestrained hope. She laid her face against the cool window pane and tried not to look at the little box at her feet. It was open, that beautiful rose necklace on display in the dim light.

She gave a thought to the presents Lucien had given her. Kind but... impersonal. Not that it was his fault. She barely spoke more than two words to him. Barely looked at him. She couldn't. Not when he'd done so many things... not when he hadn't done enough. She felt like a hypocrite, especially in comparing the two males but to her, the Shadowsinger would never of done the things Lucien had. He would of cared for Feyre in the Spring Court. He wouldn't of trusted that Priestess and sold out two helpless human women. He wouldn't.

Elain closed her eyes tightly, repeating those words but each time they sounded weaker, whispered on her tongue as her past pain whispered even louder.

You were wrong about Graysen.

That thought was like a dagger to her gut. Tears immediately pooled in her eyes as she thought about the man she'd loved with all her heart. She looked at the small gift before her and felt that iron ring on her finger. She'd kept it on too long. She'd held on too long last time and it nearly killed her. She hadn't wanted anything as much as she'd wanted to be Graysen's wife, and now, looking at another piece of jewellery from another male, she felt that pull. She closed her eyes, her heart aching for a love that would never be. She had loved him with everything she had but it wasn't enough. He hadn't wanted her. Not in the end. Not while she was Fae and he was human.

Elain looked down at the necklace once more, tears spilling from her eyes as she snapped the lid closed.

I can't do it again. She told herself, making herself move and return downstairs.

Instinct told her that Azriel no longer was in the house but she was quick about it anyway. She snuck downstairs and stood before his pile of presents. He hadn't collected them yet but he would soon. The little box remained in her hand. She knew she had to give it back. If she kept it, it would only hurt her in the end. With what she felt for the quiet but kind brother… she knew holding onto that hope only to loose it would finish the job Graysen's refusal had begun. She'd nearly given into her pain after- no. She wouldn't dwell on that.

So, with shaky fingers, she laid the little box atop the pile and slowly withdrew her hand. It felt like agony to leave that box there, when she only wanted to keep it and treasure it forever, but she forced herself for the good of everyone. Still, she didn't notice the tears until one hit her bare foot. Then quickly, before anyone noticed, she wiped her face and turned to go.

Cerridwen and Nuala stood by the stairs, their eyes seeing everything, and held out a hand each. They beakoned her over to them, and Elain gladly obeyed. The twins had become very special to her and, as they enveloped her in their little pocket of shadow Elain breathed deeply.

Come. They told her gently, between them.

Elain gladly followed them towards the kitchens. One of the twins lovingly wiped away a stray tear from her face and had her wanting to fall apart entirely into their kind arms.

"Please don't tell anyone." She barely whispered, meeting their golden eyed gaze.

The wraiths never did. They adored Elain, even to the point of shielding her from the others of this wild family. They protected her, as if she was a part of their own family. As if she was just as much an outsider, as they were, in this riotous house.

Never. They replied in unison.

Elain bit her lip, trying not to cry but instead leaning into her friends. She's be ok. Eventually, she could learn to live with it. She could see him and not fall apart.