A Court of Golden Shadow || Elain x Azriel

Chapter 10 - Sleeping Beauty

Elain and Nesta were now clinking glasses of wine... damn it, more wine? Really? He should probably stay the hells away from her in that case. But where was the fox?

His question was answered as he felt Lucien approach from the side, his eyes on what he could only assume was the spitting image of heaven in fae female form.

Elain looked up from her wineglass toward Lucien and offered a small smile, allowing him to lead her by the hand to a quiet bench near a particularly tall palm, away from the drums. Abandoned by her sister, Nesta sauntered away from the Veranda toward Cassian, sitting directly on his lap and joining the conversation.

Azriel sighed, his eyes glancing back to Feyre and Rhys speaking with Cerridwen, and then to Elain and Lucien on the bench.

Mates always found their way back to one another, didn't they?

ﾟ☆: *.☽ ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── ☽ .* :☆ﾟ

Elain had nearly gotten back to her rooms when she saw Rhys leaning on the doorframe of her chambers.

"Have fun?" Rhys drawled, opening her door for her.

"Yes." Elain replied with a smile.

And truthfully, she had. Lucien had apologized for making her feel strange for enjoying the wine, and they had had a pleasant conversation beneath the palm, discussing some ideas of how to spend their time over the summer together in Patras. He had made her laugh on more than one occasion, and when Helion passed by offering Elain an invitation to visit his personal Pegasi pasture in the morning, Elain had turned toward Lucien, inviting him along with her as well.

"Feyre tells me that you've learned to winnow." Rhys interrupted her reverie, and she drew her eyes toward the High Lord.

She bit back her smile, nodding to Rhys as she pondered the mating bond. She expected nothing less from her mated sister: she was truly one mind with Rhys. But Elain didn't feel it was an intrusion on her privacy. Rhys was the most magical creature in probably all of Prythian. If anyone would know what to do about her blooming magic... it would probably be him.

Rhys shoved his hands in his pockets. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Sitting down at the vanity and tugging a curl, Elain looked at him through the mirror. "Not particularly. I mean, I don't know how you can help me." She turned to face him, crossing her legs and furrowing her brow. "I've ever experienced it before, true, but it also would make sense... I mean... the cauldron wanted to give me 'blessed gifts'..."

Her voice trailed off, embarrassment and a strange film of shame settling over her as she reflected on her favored position with the temperamental ancient artifact.

"True." Rhys agreed, pacing towards the open veranda which lead down toward the quiet river. "But maybe you could learn to use it.... could be a good skill to have if you're ever in a dangerous situation. And let's be real... being a Made-fae and having connections to the Night Court... you'll probably be in dangerous situations more than you'd expect."

"I guess..." Elain began, staring at the back of his head. His dark hair had a blue glint to it that she had never noticed. "I mean, I was extremely emotional when it happened, and I doubt that will happen frequently enough to really practice."

Rhys chuckled to himself. "Feyre was kind of the same. I got her angry during training, and poof, she winnowed. What happened to you? Burn some bread and end up winnowing to your bedroom?"

It was meant as a light-hearted joke, but the comment stung all the same.

Her life... her hobbies... were so trivial compared to the rest of the Inner Circle. Feyre was taming fear itself while Nesta was literally slaying ancient 15,000-year-old beasts who wanted to make her their Bride-Queen. And Elain? She was making bread. Or burning it... according to Rhysand's impression of her.