"Life damages us, every one. We can't escape that damage. But now, I am also learning this: We can be mended. We mend each other."
- Veronica Roth
Song: Surrender - Natalie Taylor
The two hour flight to their assigned coordinates was nearly silent the entire time. Occasionally Gwyn would strike up a conversation and Azriel's responses were polite but brief. He was treating her with that careful charm. That sort of well-mannered cautiousness with which he addressed most everyone. It felt... strange. It was the same feeling as when you accidentally put a shoe on the wrong foot.
She would've been grateful for this nonchalant behavior back when Morrigan had set her sights on them, but now they were alone. She didn't like this.
Eventually, Azriel landed them in a tiny clearing, situated in the middle of the Spring Court's woods. From the sky, in the very far distance, Gwyn could make out the border between Prythian and the Human Lands. Even farther, she could see the tiny dots of the Spring Court's village. Who knew how wide the world actually was? Even after pouring over maps and books it was difficult to comprehend. Probably, because she hadn't existed outside of the library and House of Wind for over two years...
When Azriel set her down on the grass, Gwyn froze as though the ground beneath her may move. His forehead creased in concern.
"This is the farthest I've ever been from home," she said weakly. "From the library, from Velaris, from Sangravah."
The shadowsinger's smile was sheepish, but there was a sad sort of familiarity in his eyes. As though he recognized her feelings. "It's... baffling isn't it?" He glanced about the tall trees. "To realize just how much exists outside your own world."
Gwyn nodded. "Especially when your world was a library for more than two years. You have no idea."
"You would be surprised," muttered Azriel, now looking at his feet. "There's really no way to reconcile it. It takes time."
"You sound like you have experience."
He swallowed, grimacing. Gwyn couldn't help but notice the haunted look in his eyes.
Her lips parted to pry further, but Azriel interrupted her, jerking his head towards a towering cliffside just through a line of trees. "I believe we're meant to stay in a cave just through there."
So he wasn't ready to discuss. That was fine. But Gwyn confessed to being very curious. Especially recalling that his particular gifts could manifest through solitude...
Another time.
"You've been here before?" she asked, following him as he started towards the trees.
"No, my shadows scouted."
"What? When?"
His shoulders lifted nonchalantly. "While we were talking."
Gwyn continued over the uneven ground. "Do they often act of their own accord?"
"They have their habits. Ones I've instilled in them."
"Like scouting?"
The shadowsinger nodded. "Scouting, detecting truth and lies, sensing danger and instinctively shrouding me." They broke through the tree line, arriving before the cliffside and the mouth of a cave. "We should set up camp. Tomorrow we can start searching for weapons caches or any signs of my attackers."
Gwyn noted just how detached his voice sounded while her blood seemed to boil at the mention of the people who'd nearly killed him.
Azriel glanced over his shoulder at her as they entered the mouth of the cave, his lips curving up in an amused smile. "I wonder, are you less alarmed by your thirst for vengeance now that you know it's a mating bond and not any potential lightsinger blood?"
Gwyn couldn't help the wry grin that broke out on her face. "I may be a little more comfortable with the cause of my violent desires, yes. Though I'm not sure that's a very 'priestess' mindset."
"Well," Azriel said, setting his pack down on the cave floor, "perhaps you're in the wrong line of work."
"Perhaps."
She'd thought about it before. She'd resided in the temple of Sangravah because that was where she was raised. She was a priestess now because it was a generous haven and convenient to her circumstances.
But aside from reading and singing... Gwyn didn't really enjoy the work. She didn't enjoy being berated by Merrill. Sometimes the quiet of the library felt stifling compared to the laughter and jesting during her time with Nesta, Emerie, Cassian and Azriel. And while devouring book after book and filling her head with facts and history was satisfying, she craved the thrill of training. The sense of achievement and triumph she got from mastering some new skill.
But one thing at a time. Right now, she had a mission to accomplish.
Besides, perhaps one day she would feel worthy of that invoking stone and learn to love the library as much as she did training and singing.
Azriel and Gwyn set down their packs, laid out their supplies, and shared a lunch of fruit and bread... in complete silence.
"Are you alright?" Gwyn finally asked.
The shadows on Azriel's shoulders nipped at his neck, but the male merely shrugged. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Don't know. That's why I'm asking."
Azriel hurled the core of his apple out of the cave with a lazy flick of his wrist. "I'm fine. Let's work on your dagger handling." He pushed himself to stand. "It will pass the time."
Gwyn wasn't sure why they couldn't pass the time by simply talking - that usually made time fly by. But perhaps it was best if they trained. It would keep her mind occupied. Keep her from imagining the feeling of his bare skin against hers...
"I'm not going to knee you in the groin!" Gwyn protested.
Azriel arched a brow, the blades of their daggers still pressed close to Gwyn's throat. "Then you'll die."
"Won't you be hurt?"
"I'll manage."
Gwyn pursed her lips, her arms starting to ache from holding Azriel off. "No, I'm not going to damage such precious cargo."
Azriel snorted and she was delighted to see some life in his eyes. "Nervous, then?"
Well, that was as good as a challenge. Gwyn brought her knee up and between his legs. Azriel stumbled back, clutching his stomach, and lowering his blade from her throat. Gwyn used the same leg to kick him square in the chest and the shadowsinger tumbled flat on his back.
The next second, she was straddling him, pinning his wings with her knees and locking his arms to his sides. She held her dagger to his throat.
"Well done," he grunted.
Gwyn exhaled and clambered off of him. She attempted to spin the dagger and slip it into the sheath, just as she'd seen Azriel do on numerous occasions, but it instead fell from her grasp and onto the dirt with an unflattering thud.
Azriel stifled a laugh, standing to his feet. "You were very impressive up until that moment."
"Well, you can teach me all your fancy tricks next."
"Fancy tricks after you learn the basics," the shadowsinger said admonishingly. "And I'm sorry to say that your talent with a dagger is - at best - mediocre."
Gwyn flinched causing Azriel to chuckle. Why she was surprised she wasn't sure. Azriel never beat around the bush... and she was still learning the dagger. Gwyn was better with a sword or a staff. Over the past few weeks she'd even improved her archery skills as well.
But the dagger still eluded her. It involved close quarters combat which was not her favorite.
"You have a lot of promise. You've got the right body for the dagger. Plenty of reach and flexibility. The right mindset too. You're brave and quick on your feet," Azriel continued. "We just need to work on your coordination."
The shadowsinger's tone hadn't changed much over the past few hours. He still seemed a little distant. It also didn't escape Gwyn's notice that his shadows had been behaving particularly affectionately towards him. As though offering comfort.
Gwyn wasn't sure if she should pry yet. Her gut said it was safe for her to press him, but another part of her said "not just yet."
"It's starting to get cold," Azriel said, eyeing the slowly dimming sky above. "I'm going to do a quick sweep if you want to start setting up camp for the night." A faint smile. "Dinner is in my pack. We should have it tonight before it spoils."
Gwyn nodded and Azriel shot up into the sky.
In the cave Gwyn unrolled the bed-mats and spent several minutes debating on how close to put them together. How to position them. Side by side? Head to head? Opposite sides of the cave? Eventually she settled on making a small fire between them. That way if one of them laid on their side they could see each other's faces, but the fire separated their bodies.
Typically she would've made the fire at the mouth of the cave, but it was a small, meager thing meant only to provide some general warmth.
Gwyn reached into Azriel's pack to retrieve the supper he had mentioned. She removed the brown paper parcel and unwrapped it. Inside were two sandwiches that were decidedly not assignment food. They had cheese, greens and meat. All things that would spoil in a matter of days. Not practical for a mission.
But he had procured them anyway. For her no doubt.
The priestess wondered how many people knew about this side of Azriel. She imagined his family had seen the thoughtful side of him, the one that was kind and mindful and funnier than he let on. But did they know what a romantic he was? With these small gestures. Quality time and secret sandwiches and sweet smiles.
Did Morrigan know?
Did Elain?
A knot formed in her stomach. Why had he still not mentioned Morrigan? Why hadn't he elaborated on their relationship? Gwyn knew deep down that Azriel didn't have feelings for Morrigan... but why then, did he seem so ashamed of admitting his past affections for her?
Gwyn, you've known each other for eight months. You've only officially entered a relationship a month ago. A secret one at that. There is plenty of time for him to tell you his secrets.
"But I've shared everything with him," Gwyn muttered, feeding the fire a little bit of kindling.
You are Gwyn. He is Azriel. He'll open up on his own time.
"Maybe he doesn't trust me..."
He said he would wait for you. Now it's your turn to wait.
"You made a fire."
Gwyn looked up from the small pile of flame to see Azriel frozen in the mouth of the cave, his dark hair ruffled by the wind.
"Yes," she said, trying to sound casual. "You said it yourself. It was getting cold."
His shadows twirled around his neck and arms. His mouth opened and closed and Gwyn could see whatever he had prepared to say die on his lips. Instead he gave a gruff nod and crossed to his bed-mat, sitting with his long legs stretched out.
"Thank you for picking up these sandwiches," Gwyn said softly, holding the sandwich out for him.
Azriel chuckled. "You learned nothing from breakfast?"
Gwyn gawked. "Surely this doesn't count!" She looked at the sandwich in disbelief. "You got the sandwiches! Handing you something can't count as serving it to you!"
Still grinning, the shadowsinger pointed to the cave floor beside him. Gwyn's eyes caught on the scarred flesh of his hand. The burn marks. How did he get those scars? Did they contribute to whatever he'd left unspoken when he spied the fire she'd made?
Before he could notice her apprehension, Gwyn placed the sandwich on the floor.
"I'm not sure what does or doesn't count," Azriel admitted. "But I don't want to take any chances."
He picked up the sandwich and Gwyn noted that all the while he avoided looking at the flames.
Gwyn tilted her head. "Yes, I suppose we wouldn't want to turn in a report to Rhysand and Feyre stating that we spent the duration of our assignment fucking."
Azriel choked on his food and Gwyn laughed in response. His eyes watered as he choked down the bite he'd taken. Gwyn took a strange satisfaction in his reaction and beamed. She always enjoyed unnerving him, to be honest.
The rest of the meal took place in silence with Gwyn trying to strike up conversation occasionally, and Azriel only responding in nods and the smallest of sentences. By the time they finished eating, his stifling silence had become too much for the priestess. There was a knot in her stomach and a burning in her chest.
Yes, he'd said he would wait for her. Yes, she should wait for him. But this wasn't about waiting. This was about honesty.
"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" she asked, leaning back on her hands.
Azriel swallowed the last of his sandwich. "What makes you think something is wrong?"
The priestess shot him a look. "Call it intuition, Shadowsinger. Does it matter? I know something is wrong."
He was quiet for a moment, and Gwyn watched as his shadows coiled around his ears then slithered back down to sit on his shoulders. Maybe she imagined it, but the priestess could have sworn he'd cringed.
Azriel drew his legs up, leaning his elbows on his knees. "Is there any chance of you letting this go?" he muttered, staring out at the moonlit forest.
Gwyn drew herself up, adjusting to sit cross-legged. "We are on an assignment together, Shadowsinger. It is clear to me, your partner, that your mind is elsewhere. If I'm going to feel safe and like you have my back, I need to know what is going on in that beautiful head of yours." A stretch but it would do. She raised her chin a fraction. "Fortunately for the both of us, our partnership has always consisted of honesty and lending a willing ear. So I suggest you relieve yourself of whatever is burdening you so we can get on with our assignment."
The Shadowsinger nodded and was quiet for a moment longer. His hardened stare softened, but remained on the forest. "I understand that you would like to keep the mating bond a secret. A lot of pressure comes with something so... coveted. And high expectations, from what I understand, can contribute negatively to developing a relationship."
"You're right," Gwyn said, still looking at him despite his refusal to meet her gaze. "And I'm grateful for your patience."
Azriel smiled wistfully. "I've waited five hundred years. What's a little while longer?"
"So what's the problem, Shadowsinger? What's eating you?"
"Like I said, I can understand your apprehension towards announcing we are mates. It doesn't... wound me." He inhaled deeply. "But your fear of Morrigan or anyone else for that matter, knowing that we are involved. It... concerns me."
Gwyn felt as though she had been punched in the gut. "Azriel..."
Finally he looked at her, his hazel eyes still gentle. "I am well aware that we are not in any sort of established relationship. I understand that we are still testing the waters so to speak." He shrugged in feigned nonchalance. "And while I'm more than comfortable hovering in this ambivalence... I am saddened that you are uncomfortable with anyone knowing you have any interest in me." Azriel grimaced. "We'd never discussed it, but I was... hoping to court you eventually. I am now realizing that showing your willingness to be in a relationship with the Spymaster for the Night Court outside of the pre-ordained mating bond may be something worthy of... well, worthy of shame."
"Of-of shame?" Gwyn stammered, completely lost.
Azriel nodded. "After the things I've done. The things I'm known for doing. I understand that you would be uneasy in admitting your interest in someone like myself. That you would willingly court a monster instead of being persuaded by something as fabled as a mating bond."
She pressed a hand against the base of her throat. "You-you think I'm ashamed of my feelings for you? You think that I'm ashamed that they were present before I was aware that there was a mating bond?"
"And I completely understand." He waved an errant hand. "As I said, it has saddened me. But I am not upset."
Gwyn blinked a few times, trying to find the words to tell him how very wrong he was. But they did not come. So instead she said:
"Azriel, I couldn't give two shits about what people think about you or what you've done," Gwyn blurted. "I don't care if people know I was interested in you before or after I was aware of some irrelevant mating bond. That is not at all where my apprehension to openly being with you comes from!"
Azriel's expression remained wary. "Gwyn. That would be understandable. My reputation--"
"This has nothing to do with you, Azriel. This is all me."
"How... how do you mean?"
It was Gwyn's turn to be wary. Her tall and confident posture faltered as she hugged her knees to her chest. Gods, she had never admitted what she was about to say out loud to anyone. It was... such an admission of how very broken she was. But Azriel needed it. He needed to know that she wasn't ashamed of him. So she would tell him.
"After what I went through, after what was... what was done to me in Sangravah," Gwyn began, her voice soft, "it has been a journey to reclaim my... my sexuality. I never thought I'd be comfortable with a male seeing me in such a light ever again. But you've proven that I am safe with you and I want you. I want you that way. I like that you see me like that."
Azriel's expression was warm and receptive, but he said nothing.
"But if I'm in a relationship with someone, if people see me engaging with someone in a romantic manner... I know that they'll draw assumptions. There are harmless ones, like I was bewitched by the shadowsinger's beauty and should care more about his dark past," she said, giving him a meaningful smile. Gwyn swallowed, preparing herself for the difficult part. "But there are other assumptions that are not so harmless - that make me uneasy. Assumptions about... about..." her voice cracked and Azriel inched a bit closer, but Gwyn pressed forward, "About the poor priestess who was used by Hybern's men finally getting into bed with someone again."
She wasn't sure when it had started, but a hot tear rolled down her cheek. The shadowsinger held a hand out to her, offering his touch. Always offering and never taking. Gwyn leaned her face into his scarred palm.
"I'm not ready for strangers, for people who hardly know me, to start thinking about me like that. To be aware of me in a sexual way... To imagine me enjoying myself again. Do you... do you understand?" she sniffed.
Azriel nodded, his brows furrowing. "I hadn't even considered. Forgive me."
"There's nothing to forgive," Gwyn said, breath hitching. Cauldron, she was crying now. And it wasn't because she was sad or scared. It was because she was relieved. Somehow, saying those fears aloud, voicing them to Azriel, had set her free. "I'm really fine. It's just a little overwhelming to confess something you've never really admitted to yourself."
"Gwyn," Azriel said, his voice quiet and eyes full of an apology. "I'm sorry that I didn't get to you in time."
She knew what he meant. She knew that he meant Sangravah. But Gwyn had long ago come to terms with what had happened. There was no changing the past. And the priestess could honestly say that never once had she thought " what if I'd been rescued just a few moments sooner?" The blame had always been on Hybern.
"I will not fail you. Never again," he whispered. "I swear it."
The shadowsinger inclined his head, pressing his lips to the escaped tears, kissing each of them away with such aching tenderness she nearly crumpled. Instead she took a deep breath and pressed her lips to his palm. She sat up straighter.
"There's no need for apologies or promises, Shadowsinger. I've come a long way, but I still have some healing to do and I don't know how to do it. I have a feeling that it will be like ripping off a bandage honestly." Gwyn smiled weakly. "But where it does concern you, please know I kind of like that people are afraid of my mate," she winked.
Azriel's fingers fell over the hand Gwyn had laid on the stone floor. "You don't have to make jokes. You're allowed to be sad, songbird."
"I know, I just— wait, what did you call me?"
"A nickname."
"You gave me a nickname?" she said with a wet laugh.
"You don't like it," stated Azriel, his eyes dancing with amusement. "I didn't get to choose Shadowsinger. So I'm afraid you don't get to choose yours either."
The bitter emptiness she had felt was swept away. It would return as it always did, but for now, there was warmth again. There was light. She'd learned by now that when relief presented itself, it was best to snatch it and hold it close. To move on.
"Songbird," she repeated. "Not bad. Because I sing?"
There was something secret in his answering smile. "Among other reasons."
"Ooh, mysterious. Do tell," Gwyn grinned, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.
Azriel reclined onto his bed-mat with a grunt. "Perhaps another time."
"Are you serious?"
"I am always serious." His eyes were shut. "I'm a very serious male."
Gwyn's lips twitched as she laid down on her side. "You're a very serious ass."
Azriel chuckled. "We'll start our search for any sign of the humans tomorrow. I'll see you in the morning, songbird."