A Court of Ink and Blood

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔈𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱

When Thalia woke the next she felt as if someone had trod on her head. Memories of the alcohol flooded back and the scenes of her yelling at Azriel pounded against her skull. She didn't feel bad. Everything she said she'd meant. But a slight twang of guilt bit at her from deciding drunkenly and in a club was the best time to seek an apology. 

Throwing the heavy sheets off her she bathed quickly in hope to wash away the grime of the club and sticky alcohol in her hair before slipping into leather training pants and a loose white shirt tucked into a belt that strapped to a thigh holster holding her dagger. Cassian had brought her it a few days prior after the man came in to catch up with his childhood friend. Cass was one of the few people who welcomed Thalia when she was dumped in the mountains when she became of age and him sat on her bed showing her all the new weapons he'd collected over the years had felt like they were nineteen again flaunting their throwing daggers and trying to one up each other with who could look the coolest while flipping their blades. 

Despite the late night she had developed an early rising pattern since coming to Velaris almost as if her body was trying to make the most out of the bare day light after centuries locked in the darkness and by the time she crept out of her room the sun had barely even began to rise but her shadows twitched at her fingertips, the little ones telling her movement was already detected in the house. 

Coming up the the glass doors leading to the roof top Thalia stopped just short of the handle. The heat hadn't even pushed past the morning mist but outside, gleaming in the amber light Cassian and Azriel were fighting. Fighting in only their breeches. Taking a steady breath, she pushed open the door and tried not the think of the way sweat worked it's way down their bodies, how Azriel's muscles moved in the light, his speed flipping him under Cassian and away from his brother's twin katana as his black hair moved almost in slow motion. 

Cauldron give me strength 

Stepping into the open air, Thalia noticed Rhys and Nesta were there two. The both of them shouting encouragement at the two Illyrians as they fought until Azriel seemed to almost freeze where he stood, his head turning to the side as if he was listening to her coming up behind them, Cassian seeing the opportunity and knocking his brother's feet out from under him. 

"Thalia" Cassian cheered as he held out his two blades, his face beaming with pride as Azriel got up with a grunt. "took your time" 

It was barely day break. 

"The sun's not even fully out" She argued. 

Cassian left his swords by a weapons wrack before making his way over to her. 

"You are an Illyrian are you not?" 

She tried not to roll her eyes as she felt Cassian's general persona take hold. 

"Yes" It was painful to get out without huffing like a teenager. 

"Then any excuse you have for a late rise is invalid. Now grab a weapon" 

Thalia looked over at the wall of metals. Sabers and axe's sat above, swords and bows but her eyes lit up when she saw a short sword, intricate whirls and images melted into the pommel. 

"How predictable" Cassian teased. Thalia always favoured shorter swords when she fought, even as a child when longer ones would have kept her enemies further away. 

She ignored him as she made her way into the ring drawn out on the ground. "First to get knocked out of the circle wins?" 

Cassian hummed in agreement as they stood opposite. 

"This is going to be good" She heard Rhys utter to Nesta and the two plus Az lined the ring. Thalia still trying not to look at Azriel as he stood shirtless with his arms crossed analysing her form.