Random One Shot Stories

Gwyn and Azriel: Your Story is Worth Telling

ACOSF CHARACTER CONCEPT SPOILER

Fanart cred: @ink.fae on instragram :)

Hey guys! This one is not a spicy one for ya'll but I wanted to write something for my new favorite ship. I love Gwyn and Azriel's potential for a powerful story that will for sure make me cry for weeks. I hope you enjoy this Gwyn and Azriel one shot :)

-Faith xx

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She swung at the cloth covered log, making it swing on its chain that had it hovering above the ground. She had been coming here at night, driven awake by her nightmares that had her screaming into her dark room. Her blood sang as the adrenaline pumped through her veins, blocking her thoughts as her fists hit their marks. 

One-two-one. Two-two-one. One-one-two. She found her rhythm, her movements coming faster and more smooth as she punched and kicked at the log.  Her sister's face flashes through her eyes. She pushes herself harder, shaking her head to get the image from her mind.

She feels a rush of air hit her back before she hears his feet hit the ground. Gwyn knew who it was without turning around. Knew the familiar sensation of awareness tingling through her body. She knew he was looking at her, watching her throw punch after punch at the log like it was a real enemy. 

Her punches slowed, coming to a stop as she caught her breath and cleared her head. She turned, slowly, facing the Shadowsinger fully. He wore all black, per usual, his hands covered by the finger less gloves he often wore around her.  

She never liked the gloves. They hid his scarred hands. She guessed that was why he wore them but hated the fact that he thought he needed to. Gwyn dragged her eyes up to his, sinking into his ocean of hazel. 

His face held no emotion, leaving a cool and calculating mask. But his eyes held a storm of feelings that she could only begin to decipher. Gwyn inhaled deeply, her heart rate finally slowing as she stepped towards him.

"Did you forget your knife again?" She asked, placing a grin on her lips as she hid her shaking hands behind her back, "That's twice now. You'd think if you loved it so much you wouldn't misplace it so often." She hoped the forced swagger in her tone covered the waver in it as she took another step towards him.

"Are we not working you hard enough in session?" He answers, taking his own step towards her, "We can always take it up a notch if your feeling restless at 3:00 am." Amusement danced in his eyes.

"It's hard to imagine anything worse than running up and down 10,000 steps... twice." She replied, remembering their punishment from last week for 'gossiping' too much during class. Cassian was just mad that Nesta told her and Emerie about one of his kinks in the bedroom... in full depth.

"I'm sure we could figure something out." His mouth quirked up on one side, a whisper of a grin taking over his face. Gwyn had to ball her hands into fists to stop the urge to touch her fingers to it. To feel the soft lines of his face. His harsh jawline against her skin. She shook the thought away.

"I'm sure you could." She replies, taking her hands from behind her back and cracking her knuckles. She flinched as pain radiated up her hands, wrapping around her wrists. With the adrenaline gone, she could now feel the cuts and bruises lacing her skin, caused by her hitting the wood so hard for so long.

Gwyn hadn't realized he had moved until Azriel stood directly in front of her, taking her hands in his gloved ones. "May I?" He asks, his voice like a soft melody flowing into her. She nodded her head in approval, to what, she didn't know.  

Slowly, Azriel unwrapped the white cloth she had wrapped around her hands, looping in between her fingers and around her wrists. Calluses lined her skin, now surrounded by new scrapes and bruises. Azriel clicked his tongue as he examined her hands, turning them over to reveal her palms. 

Red half crescent moons lined the bottom of her palms where she had dug her nails into the flesh. She hadn't realized she had broken skin while trying to distract herself from her own thoughts. She had done it so often now that she barley noticed the pain. 

Azriel said nothing as he ran his thumb over the indentions, his touch barley a whisper of wind. A shiver ran down Gwyn's spine that had nothing to do with the chill in the air. She knew he looked at her face now, but she couldn't lift her eyes to his.

He dropped one of her hands, gently placing his thumb and finger on her chin and lifting her head to meet his gaze. Their eyes locked and Azriel kept his fingers on her chin, tracing her jaw line with his thumb. 

If it was anyone else, Gwyn would have recoiled at the contact. But for some reason she did not understand, the Shadowsinger's touch soothed her roaring head, clearing the storm in her mind. 

Understanding and sorrow swirled in his gaze, making her lean more into his touch as he continued his soothing strokes. Feeling like she had to explain herself, Gwyn opened her mouth, but no words came as her mind went blank.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Azriel whispers, his breath tickling her nose as he spoke. Her heart swelled at his words, making her throat tighten as she forced herself to swallow. She tore her gaze from his, looking behind his shoulder to muster up some courage to speak.

"Sometimes-" She croaks, trying to find the right words to explain how she felt, "The memories, the thoughts, overwhelm me. The pain-" Gwyn looks down at her opened palms, one hand still in Azriels, "distracts me enough to keep me from reliving that day over and over." What she didn't say is that it wasn't just sometimes, but most of the time. And that the pain didn't always distract her enough from falling apart in her room at night.

She lifted her eyes back to Azriels, preparing for the judgment to sink in. But it never came. He still held the same look as before, filled with deep sorrow and thoughtfulness. He didn't pity her, no. She didn't want that. He knew how she felt. Understood her more then most people ever could. 

A tear slipped from her eye as they stood there, trapped in each other's gazes. Azriel caught it with his finger, wiping it from her skin and then cupping her cheek, his thumb now rubbing underneath her eye.

"There is nothing I can say, nothing I can do to make it better. If I could, I would have done anything in this gods damned world to make it so. But all I can offer you is myself." Her heart thundered against her rib cage, "I am here for you, always. You can tell me anything. Or you can tell me nothing. Either way, I'll be there." 

She feels her heart crack at his declaration, his promise, and something in her snaps into place as she struggles to keep her tears from falling. Without saying anything, Gwyn reaches up and places her hand over his, pulling it from her face. 

Slowly, never taking her eyes from his, she pulls the glove from his fingers, dropping it to the floor beside them. She places Azriel's bare hand back onto her face, keeping hers on top of it so he wouldn't pull away.

His eyes shifted, sadness and disgust taking over as his lip scrunched up in a look of displeasure. "You don't have to pretend that they aren't disgusting." His voice is cold, the complete opposite of the gentle tone he held moments ago. 

Gwyn knew that coldness was not directed towards her, but at himself. She shook her head, taking his other hand in her free one and placing it onto her other cheek after discarding the glove onto the floor. 

"Your hands are not disgusting." Azriel looks away, keeping his eyes on the hanging log behind her, "Look at me." He obeys, "When I see these scars, I do not see ugliness. I see you. I see your strength. Your bravery. These scars are not disgusting. They are beautiful. They tell your story." Azriel stares down at her, his eyes wide and lined with silver. 

"Your story is worth telling." She whispers, closing her eyes, relishing in the warmth and comfort of his touch. Slowly, very slowly, Azriel leans his head down, pressing his forehead to hers. 

"So is yours."