The beginning of Gwyn and Azriel

I would fall from Grace, Just to Touch your Face

  Gwyneth Berdara stared at her reflection in the mirror. The mysterious rose necklace, that she now wore everyday underneath her clothing, shined on her slim neck in the dim candlelight.

  That same necklace, was a steady presence during the blood rite, guiding her through the trenches as she was separated from her friends.

  That same necklace, held some unexplainable, omniscient power over her.

  This power was probably propelled due to the fact that she had no idea whom had gifted her with such a treasure. The moment that Clotho had handed her the blank box, pure confusions swarmed in her chest.

 "It seems that you have made great friends, or a secret lover," Clotho wrote, shaking her head with a silent smirk. Gwyn had tried to desperately get the answers out of Clotho for the entirety of the day.

"You really wish not to share with me who this is from, dear Priestess?" Gwyn asked, hands on her hips.

  Clotho's eyes held a shining secret, and Gwyn could barely function on anything after that. Could it have been a gift from the high lady herself ? Or perhaps one her friends? The questions continued to encompass her dreams. 

  Now, what seemed like years later, Gwyn wore a gown that fully showcased the necklace for the first time. The gown was a simple design made of silk and chiffon, however, the vibrant teal colour perfectly matched with her eyes.

  Tonight, the entire city would celebrate the union between, Nesta Archeron and Cassian, the general of the Night Court. Gwyn's heart swelled at the thought of her best friend finally mating with the general. It was only a matter of time.

  But her hands began to shake from the nerves. Being around hundreds of people was still not a comfortable option, and Gwyn hoped that she could sit through the entire ceremony.

  You can do anything. You won the blood rite. You climbed that mountain.

  Gwyn's fingers continued  to tremble as she tied her cloak around her neck, covering most of her gown, but still allowing the necklace to be on full display. She did one more analysis of her appearance in the small mirror found on her bedroom wall. Gwyn had not been to a social gathering like this in years and was not sure if this was appropriate attire.

  So she decided to undue her braid and comb her copper coloured hair along her shoulders. Was this too much? She found herself again nervous.

  You won the blood rite, Gwyn. You can go to one simple gathering, the ever present voice murmured.  

  Gwyn held her trembling hand over her mouth and took a seat at her desk. Maybe Nesta would understand if she could not attend? Maybe she could give her congratulations in private?

  Then the the gentle chain caught her attention again in the mirror. The rose was almost winking for any form of attention.

  Stand up, Gwyn. Go enjoy your new friends, the necklace seemed to scream at her. Her fingers grazed up to the chain and she held onto the rose for a moment, closing her eyes in the process.

  Breathe. 

  Breathe. 

  Breathe.

  Then she opened her eyes and felt a smile paint on her face. She was a strong warrior and could handle a few dances. Gwyn stood, with strong sturdy legs, and marched out of her pathetic room.

  Velaris was vibrating with excitement and activity. She continued her breathing process while making her way towards the temple. She kept her back straight, even when some men made comments about her as she passed by.

  Once she reached the temple, she blew out a long breath and took a seat on one of the pews. Nesta had asked if she would consider singing during the ceremony, and in a moment of pure excitement, Gwyn had agreed. Now, she tried to even out her breathing so that she was prepared to sing in front of strangers, half of which, were men...

  She almost stood and considered heading straight to the exit, until she saw him.

  Spymaster, Truth-teller, Shadowsinger.

  Azriel.

  He was again dressed in full black and had his hair slicked back in order to showcase his beautiful face. He appeared to be helping with the preparations, completely oblivious to her existence.

  She would never admit it, but it was his face that she imagined in order to calm herself after  screaming from her night terrors .

  She could never admit it, but it was his voice that she heard when she sang.

  Gwyn quickly turned her neck, not wanting him to catch her staring at him.

  But it was already too late, he met her eyes across the temple, and slowly made his way to her. Then he halted in his tracks, as he took in her new appearance.

  Gwyn shivered, not from the chilly temperature, but from how he gazed at her exposed neck, at the jewelry.

  He probably thought she looked silly, dressing up like this.

"They asked you to come early as well?" his voice rasped along the temple walls. There was a twinge of curiosity and humour in his tone.

  Gwyn ran a finger through her hair, smiling widely. "Well, the entertainment is the most important part of any ceremony. We would not want the singer to go missing," she smirked up at him.

  Azriel softly chuckled and sat on the pew behind her, so that she could easily converse with him without straining her neck. 

 "But, if I was to go missing, they would need someone to fill in as soon as possible.."

 He turned his neck at that comment," And who, Ms. Berdara, do you think would be chosen for such a position if you did go missing?"

 "I don't know Azriel, maybe someone who can actually sing. Do you know anyone?" she played with him, raising her brow in the process.

 "Well, they would have to be extremely talented," he murmured.

 "Yes," she breathed.

 "And would have to be used to such an audience," he placed his elbows to his knees, nearing her.

"I only know one more singer in this room," she teased.

  He stood gently, grasping on the back of the pew, leaning down towards her. 

 "No one will hear me sing... unless it is an extreme, life threatening, situation," he played along, straining each of his words. 

  She sat in complete silence for a moment, observing his face at such a close angle.

  The last time they had been this close, she had been bleeding in his arms.. which was right after..

  Gwyn stood abruptly, keeping her distance. "I should go prepare with the orchestra," her voice trembled.

  The spymaster only nodded, as if he did understand the sudden new tension between them.

"Of course," he began to turn away from her, but paused for a moment.

 "And that is a beautiful necklace on you."