A Court of Light and Melody

Chapter 23 - Lay with Me

"I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night."

- Sarah Williams

Song: Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol

Gwyn felt like Tilda in Forsaken by Eternity. Jogging down the moonlit corridor with a secret smile on her face. Every step taking her closer and closer to him. To Azriel. To her mate.

Somewhere between returning their books to their shelves and ascending the stairs to the House of Wind, all trepidation had left Gwyn. It felt good to shed that paranoia. To shed that monster in her mind that kept building walls and pushing away everything that felt right, and just go with her instincts. She felt like herself. She felt like Gwyneth Berdara.

It wasn't until she hit the main floor landing that apprehension set in. Not because she was having second thoughts... but because she had no idea which room belonged to Azriel.

"Sh..." she panted, looking up and down the long, empty hallway. It wasn't until she'd attempted to swear that Gwyn remembered she was still recovering from a deadly injury and as such, was having difficulty breathing.

The priestess sunk to the stone floor and leaned back against the wall. She would catch her breath and then resume her search for the shadowsinger. Even if it took till dawn.

Gwyn closed her eyes and put her head between her knees, trying to suppress her rising nausea. She fought the urge to mentally compile a speech for Azriel. One where she dramatically and eloquently professed that they were mates. No, if she thought too much about it, it wouldn't come out right. She would only succeed in overthinking everything.

When she opened her eyes, Gwyn found that her nausea had subsided, her breathing had evened out and... there were shadows wriggling around her toes.

Gwyn lifted her head, eyes narrowed in curiosity. At her feet were a bundle of shadows, huddled on the floor.

And simply because it felt right, Gwyn spoke to them. "Hi."

The shadows swayed before her like a long branch in the wind.

"I'm looking for Azriel."

Talking to the shadows didn't feel as strange as she thought it would...

The shadows spooled before her, twirling enthusiastically. Gwyn's brows shot up.

"Where are his chambers?"

The tendrils curled backwards like a wave being drawn back to sea and started down the hall. Gwyn watched, jaw hanging open in fascination. They were... escorting her?

She pushed herself to stand, and saw that the tendrils seemed to run like a carpet down the corridor.

As though sensing her realization, the shadows wriggled impatiently.

"Sorry, coming," she murmured, starting after them. The shadows rippled down the hall, spasming occasionally and Gwyn was reminded of a very excited lamb from Sangravah. "You are massively helpful, you know?" she said as they turned right down the next corridor.

The plume twined up her fingers affectionately before bouncing back to the floor and skittering towards a door at the end of the hall.

The closer Gwyn got to the door, the better she could hear the notes of a plaintive melody, sung in a smokey baritone. The shadows hovering at the crack beneath the door saw the realization dawn on her face and in response, gave what Gwyn could only discern as an anxious nod. They had wanted her to come here. Not him.