"We don't heal in isolation, but in community."
- S. Kelley Harrell
Song: Bubble Gum - Clairo
The following morning, when Gwyn made her way downstairs, she found Elain donning traveling clothes with a rucksack at her feet.
In the doorway Lucien, Feyre, Rhysand, and Nesta waited, exchanging quiet conversation.
Gwyn was content to offer Elain a nod, uncertain if the female felt like talking moments before departing for exile, but...
"Gwyn," Elain said softly. When Gwyn paused at the base of the stairs, Elain continued, "I'm glad you found another way."
She couldn't quite bring herself to smile, not wholeheartedly at least, but Gwyn nodded. "Me too."
"When he had you compel me, when he had me at the tip of a spear, I knew then that..." A self admonishing sigh. "I was a fool."
Gwyn frowned. "He was the first person to be concerned for you in a long time. Compassion goes a long way, especially when you're... recovering. He took advantage of you." Gwyn found herself reaching for the female's hand. "Don't forget what I said." She swallowed the thickness in her throat. "It gets easier."
It was hard to look at Elain, a survivor in a different way, and not feel sympathy. Gwyn found herself glad the consequences of the female's actions were equal parts punishment and rehabilitation.
Elain's smile was sad. "Perhaps when I return to Velaris someday we can have that lunch?" Gwyn nodded and the female's eyes moved down to their matching bargain marks. "I suppose you have till your deathbed to complete the agreed upon compulsion."
"Yes, but... I have something fairly harmless in mind," Gwyn smirked.
"I know you do. Don't wait till your deathbed."
"I don't think I'm capable of that," she snorted. Gwyn released Elain's hand. "But after that, I don't ever want to use that side of my magic again. No good can come of taking away someone's free will."
"Perhaps," she shrugged. "But with your magic, Azriel may have no need of a dagger called Truth-Teller. Something to consider."
"Care to say more?" Gwyn asked with a raised brow.
"I think I ought to be more careful with how much of the future I divulge from now on," grimaced Elain. She looked over at Lucien. "But this is right. It always has been."
Gwyn did not know Lucien well, but from the conversation they had shared and from what she had heard, he seemed to be a good male. And Elain, despite her demons and wrongdoings, was good at heart. She wished them every happiness.
"Goodbye, Elain."
Elain's farewell had left Gwyn melancholy, and much to Azriel's resentment, she parted ways from him to go on a walk through the grounds. Just to be alone with her thoughts. To clear her head.
When she returned it was late afternoon.
Azriel was nowhere to be found. According to Morrigan, he and Cassian had flown to the Mortal Lands to see that everything was in order for Jurian to start overseeing Graysen's men and his estate. He was to begin determining sentences today. However, thanks to Gwyn commanding the mortals not to return until they were ready to broker peace, the need for confinement or cells was minimal.
As such, Gwyn found herself once more wandering about Tamlin's estate, but this time in search of company. In search of Nesta and Emerie.
She found them by the hedges on the back lawn, side by side on a wooden bench.
Gwyn took a seat on the other side of Nesta, not looking at the female's face. She knew Nesta did not appreciate others witnessing her moments of vulnerability. Instead the three sat on the bench in silence. Occasionally Nesta's breathing would hitch or she would reach up and wipe away a stray tear. Gwyn knew she would talk when she was ready.
Finally, "I am sorry that Elain had to be the one to kill Graysen... but at the same time I'm glad it was her." Nesta's lip curled in a sneer. "I'm glad the bastard died knowing that she saw through him in the end." She looked at Gwyn. "Elain apologized to you?"
"Mmhm," Gwyn nodded. "It wasn't necessary, but she did. Recovery is... complicated."
"I should've checked on her more," Nesta sniffed.
"No, Nesta," said Emerie, placing a hand on her knee. "Don't put that blame on yourself."
"Elain could have spoken up," Gwyn pointed out. "There are a million different ways that this all could have been avoided. But you aren't responsible for Graysen's manipulation or Elain's falling prey to it."
Nesta nodded but Gwyn could see in her eyes that the eldest Archeron would shoulder the blame for sometime. It would take a while for this wound to heal.
Gwyn inched closer to Nesta, taking one of her hands. "She's coming back."
"But everything will be different," Nesta said with a shuddering exhale.
Gwyn met her eyes. "Yes." A faint smile. "But she'll be back. She's alive. She chose to go with Lucien. Take comfort in knowing that for once, Elain decided her fate."
"And Lucien seems nice," Emerie shrugged. "You said when they left they'd already struck up conversation..."
Nesta gave another solemn nod.
"I know what it is to lose a sister," Gwyn said. "It's like you've lost a limb. It's cliche, but it's true." She squeezed Nesta's fingers. "But she's still here. And you'll see her again."
Nesta's steely gaze softened. "Gwyn, I didn't even consider... I know it's not the same as... as losing Catrin—"
Gwyn shook her head with a sheepish smile. "Please don't apologize. I lost Catrin and yes, it's different than how you've lost Elain, but they're both still a part of us."
Nesta returned her wry grin. "And what would Catrin have to say about your mate?"
Gwyn felt her cheeks heat.
Emerie leaned forward so Gwyn could better see her, her brows narrowed. "Yes, about that. I know I said I was fine with you talking to us when you were ready, but really ? Not telling us that the shadowsinger was your mate?"
Nesta laughed wearily and Gwyn was glad for the first real glimmer of happiness on her friend's face. "Gwyn, honestly, how long have you known?"
"Morrigan knew too..." Emerie muttered.
Nesta's jaw dropped. "I'm sorry, we were the last to know?"
"Technically Amren and her beau don't know so... you aren't the very last," Gwyn winced. She raised two placating hands. "We wanted to wait until all of this was over. So we could tell everyone under more pleasant circumstances."
Nesta barked a laugh. "Are you aware of the circumstances under which the news was broken?"
"They weren't pleasant..." snickered Emerie.
"I dunno." Nesta raised her chin, her face set in a cool mask. "I found it very pleasant when Azriel punched Rhys..."
Gwyn flushed to the roots of her hair. While she didn't relish the thought of her mate fighting his own brother, she didn't mind the idea of her mate ready to unleash all hell for her. It felt like something out of one of Nesta and Emerie's books.
"He was lucky that Cassian was there to drag me away..." Nesta continued.
Emerie cleared her throat.
Nesta's voice was flat. "And you did a marvelous job of deterring me as well, Em. Good show."
"I'm sorry," Gwyn said, hooking a lock of hair behind her ear. "I wanted to tell you all sooner."
"Very well, Gwyn. You're forgiven," Emerie said with a flippant wave. "But we get to help plan the ceremony."
The cool mask Nesta had worn melted away in a flash. "Yes, which will be when?"
Gwyn smiled to herself. "I don't know."
There was a pause before Emerie spoke, her eyes danced with amusement. "Gwyn..." She inclined her head, lowering her voice, "Tell us, is the wingspan rumor..."
Nesta smirked. "I am very curious."
Gwyn glanced for any lingering ears, then leaned closer in. "Huge," was all she said.