You and I drink the poison from the same vine.
~)(~
I didn't think such a place could feel like home. Especially when I've only been there a few weeks. But Erast was growing on me. Mor left for the Night Court only a few days after we won the Western Pass. She was very adamant about staying until the celebrations were over.
I found it odd that everyone celebrated winning this battle. It was just one fraction of a larger war. How could they be so... so happy for something so small? I obviously needed to get rid of my pessimistic nature, but that would take entirely too long.
Jurian and his men were still preparing permanent camps through the pass to protect it, and I knew we were going to follow them to the Summer Court, where Rhysand was. I didn't know if I would see him again once there, but could only hope we might run into him.
Miryam walked over and sat opposite me at the little table outside a bakery. The late morning sun made me squint and have to put a hand over my eyes. She took a deep breath and looked around.
"I never thought a place like this could exist."
I nodded slowly, following her gaze. "I had to pinch myself to be sure I wasn't dreaming."
She laughed and leaned her head on a hand. "Jurian said we should be leaving any day now. I can't wait to see more of this land."
I smiled. "Hopefully, we can both see everything when all this is over."
"We will. I know we will." Her smile was brighter than the sun. She brushed her hair from her face and said, "I don't like thinking of the 'what if' situation. It takes me out of the moment, and the little wins that keep me going."
I sighed. "Perhaps you can teach me to think that way."
She reached out a hand to hold mine, her warm skin shocking against my cold fingers. "In time... you won't need to learn. I didn't."
The wind blew through the street and made the trees rustle like bells, kicking up fallen leaves and rogue dirt. I looked around and felt... I wasn't sure what I felt. It was something entirely new to me, something that warmed me up inside and made me smile. Was it hope?
I tried not to seem surprised. Everyone felt hope at some point in their life, even me. But it was always so short-lived. It never felt like this—like it could go on and on forever. With no point to it, no reason. Just... there. Because it could be.
I walked down the street with Miryam, who was talking about how she met Mor. The story was so sad, and yet she laughed and smiled. I guess, when looking back on something that hurt, sometimes you can find the joy in it, and realize that it's never entirely bad—and never entirely good.
Perhaps that was my problem, then. I always dealt in absolutes. It was all bad, or all good. With everything. But that's not how life worked, not how people worked. There was always this grey line—one which everything passed at some point.
I wondered how many times I'd crossed that line, but couldn't think about it when my thoughts were completely interrupted by a loud and honestly unwanted voice.
"Hello, ladies." Jurian fell into step beside Miryam and linked his arm with hers.
I tried not to smile at him, tried so hard to look annoyed. "What do we owe the pleasure?"
"Just say you can't stand me. I know I'm too perfect for you," he joked, making Miryam giggle. "Actually, I'm here to say that we're finally leaving this place for the Summer Court—that is, if you're still coming with us."
"I go wherever the brute does," I said, shrugging my shoulders.
"Well then, I'll have to convince Azriel that joining us is the most important thing in his entire life."
"Just say you like my company." I grinned, and Jurian laughed, shaking his head.
"Where's the fun in that?" He looked down at Miryam and then back up at me. "The two of you have grown on me. Of course I want you to join us."
I wanted to say they were my friends, but I didn't even know what made someone a friend. I realized that all my friends in life were... they were forced onto me. Even Nalia was forced to be around me, and just stumbled into a friend. But these people, they weren't forced upon me. I had the choice to never see them again, yet I stuck around.
Did that make them my friends? I couldn't answer that. I don't think I could ever answer that. But... at least I wanted to answer it, right? That was a first step. A small win. So I was already getting better at this.
As the day passed, I tried to occupy myself with anything I could find. Any small job someone would let me do, any artistic venture I could find the energy for. I was in the position of wanting to do something, but having no one trust me enough to let me.
I couldn't be angry about that, though. These people had every right to think that. But it still... bothered me. Of course it bothered me. I would be lying if I didn't say so.
I leaned back in my chair, listening to the gentle music in the bar. A simple fiddle playing alongside a set of drums. Candlelight lit up the building, and outside was only the dark that night brought.
It didn't matter what I was—or how I was treated here. I was free of the life I once had. I had the choice to say no when I wanted, and to go anywhere I wanted... within reason. As long as I could agree with the shadowsinger, I was fine.
Jurian was very pushy about taking me out for drinks. I sat across from him and looked as he watched the band play with a tired weight to his eyes. He was leaning his head on a hand, bent over the table a little.
He was so—so young. Barely an adult, and already commanding an army behind him. I wished this war wasn't happening simply so that he could experience life without it. To live as a young soul while he still could.
I sucked in a breath and said, "how did you find yourself in this... position?"
His gaze snapped towards me, deep brown eyes flecked with gold. He sighed and shrugged. "I didn't expect it, that's for sure. I was just... I was done with the life I was living. We all were."
"Do you... are you okay with what you're doing? The pressure of it?"
"Wondering if you should become a general?" He laughed. "I used to think the positions of power were nothing but sitting around giving orders and not really doing anything. But I want to do something, so I've rejected every opportunity to advance beyond the point I'm at now. I'm happy with what I have."
I couldn't help but be reminded of myself. Maybe that meant I could find a way to fit in. If I could relate to someone like Jurian, someone every mortal knew the name of, then perhaps I could find my way in—somehow fit into this new world I had never seen before.
I wanted to simply survive, but now that I had accomplished that, I wanted more. I craved more than just survival. Or the simple freedom that came with it. I wanted to fight. I wanted to experience the world at its fullest, and be able to tell all the stories I could. To have a dreamlike life that others craved.
The life that I craved. The life that I dreamed about. I was already living the beginning of it, but there was so much more. And I yearned for it.
Jurian looked up and said, "look who decided to finally show up."
I followed his gaze to the person standing there, looking at him with a rather annoyed expression, though there was a smile on his face. Jurian gestured and said, "pull up a chair and join us."
Azriel did just that, and said, "not that it matters to you, but I had to catch up on some work."
Jurian placed a hand on the side of his mouth so Azriel couldn't see, then leaned in to say, "he likes to think he is a busy person, but he's not."
"I can hear you."
"I'm counting on that. You need to relax, take a breath. You're going to die of stress," Jurian said, leaning back in his chair.
I laughed. "I wonder if that's why everyone adores you."
"They adore me because of my heartbreakingly good looks," he said, brushing some hair from his face.
Azriel rolled his eyes. "Heartbreaking... for a very different reason."
I was in the middle of taking a sip of my drink and ended up inhaling it in laughter. I smacked my chest with a fist, coughing violently and scrunching my nose as the burning alcohol flooded my system. Jurian covered his mouth and muffled his laugh with his sleeve.
I leaned back in my chair and looked away to hide my own smile. The music in the bar lulled like the rocking of waves, echoing around us and our little table in the corner. It seemed to grow darker outside, which was an odd thing to see, because I didn't think it was possible to get darker.
Jurian pushed his empty glass to the middle of the table and got up, saying, "alright. Time for all of us to go to bed. We have a long journey tomorrow."
"We're leaving tomorrow?" I asked, brow raised.
He smirked. "I want to get to Summer Court before that High Lord's son has any time to prepare for us—a little surprise."
"You can't surprise him," Azriel said from his seat. "But you can try."
"You are just a ray of sunshine," Jurian joked before he bid us goodnight. I watched him grab his coat and put it on, tipping his head to a lady passing by, and then he opened the door and left.
It was now just me and the shadowsinger at this table, with the music playing softly in the background, and the candlelight flickering off the wallpaper and creating spots of darkness.
I looked over at him and found him already staring. It made my cheeks bloom. I turned away again and said, "are you excited to see Rhys again?"
He nodded and tilted his head to the side. "Are you?"
I huffed a laugh. "I barely know him."
"But that doesn't mean you can't be happy to see him."
"If you think you can play matchmaker—you're wrong. High Lord's sons have been leaving a sour taste in my mouth as of late." I smiled at him, almost laughed at my own joke.
He raised a brow at me and let out a quick laugh. "You're... making fun of your situation?"
I blinked and laughed again. "I guess I am."
He shook his head, leaned back in his chair, and said, "absolute pain."
I couldn't keep myself from feeling this giddy energy inside. I don't know why I felt it, but it wasn't something I wanted to go away, not really. The candlelight between us flickered, and I watched the tendrils of shadows around his shoulders mimic the moving flame.
It reminded me of a question I wanted so badly to ask, but could never find the time to. "How does one become a shadowsinger?"
Azriel's eyes snapped to mine, and suddenly his entire attention was focused on what I said. He looked down at the table with a quick sigh, before he said, "I don't actually know."
"You don't know how you came to be?"
He chuckled and shook his head. "It's not—it's not something that you can really control. It is... I guess it just happens by chance. Living in nothing but darkness for so long—long enough for the darkness to acknowledge you exist."
I carefully tasted his words and found something that made my gaze soften. "You were in darkness?"
His gaze snapped up from the table to meet mine. I now realized he had been scratching away at the table, digging up chunks of wood. There was this antsy look in his eyes, this cold calculation that he couldn't seem to take control of, and so much... so much fear.
I could only tell that's what it was because I had seen it in myself hundreds of times before. I knew that look as well as I knew my own mind. It made my lips turn down, made my legs move with a sudden restlessness. There was something that changed in the way he looked at me, like he wasn't really looking at me.
"I don't want to talk about it," he said in a single fast breath.
Before he could rise to his feet, I reached out and grabbed his hand without thinking. My fingers slid between his and squeezed. He looked down, and his face contorted in confusion for a moment.
When he looked back up at me, I saw in his eyes that, for a moment, he didn't recognize me. It was a heartbeat of a second, but in that second I knew he wasn't sitting in this bar anymore. He wasn't anywhere near this town anymore. Perhaps not even in this time.
He slipped his hand away from mine quickly and hid it in his pocket. I got out of my chair and said, "I'm sorry. I... I'm sorry." What else was there to say?
I didn't—I wasn't thinking. I just left. If I stayed any longer, I wasn't sure what would happen. And I was so stupid for asking that question. Why would anyone want to talk about such things? Mother above, I sucked at this whole communication thing. That's what happens when you spend your life locked away in a freezing fortress.
I went to my room and leaned against the closed door for a moment, biting my fingernail. I should go back and apologize, right? Apologize again, for the third time. What else could I do? No one taught be how to handle this—how to handle any of this. How was I supposed to make a friend out of anyone if all I did was remind them of a likely horrific past?
I flopped down on the bed and looked up at the ceiling, my feet hanging off the side. I kicked off my shoes and grumbled a sigh, my hands going to my face. Mother above, just kill me already. No—don't kill me, just... maybe just let me forget about all of that.
I got ready for bed while trying my hardest to not think about any of it. I would not call myself an idiot—mostly because I realized I called myself that much too often, and it probably wasn't good for me to do. But... I couldn't just let it sit and fester, right?
I walked over to the door and gripped the doorknob, but didn't turn it. A million thoughts passed through my mind in a few seconds. A million 'what ifs'.
What if?
I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. Now it was only a few steps between me and that door. The door between us, between a question and an answer. And all I had to do was knock. So, that's exactly what I did. What I tried to do.
I lifted my hand, and just as I was about to knock, the door opened. A gush of wind hit me from how hard it opened. And now I was standing there—and in front of me was a woman.
I didn't even register who was standing there or what they looked like. It was simple. There was a woman standing in the doorway. A woman who was in Azriel's room. His bedroom.
Oh no.
But before I could turn on a heel and leave, before I could drown myself in a bath of embarrassment, the woman grabbed my hand and stepped out into the hall with me, closing the door behind her. I looked up with surprise, and finally saw who it was.
Miryam looked me over with knit brows. She started talking in a hiss of a whisper. "What the hell happened?"
"What?" I forced it out in a breath.
"With Azriel. He's a mess—thinks he's having a heart attack. What did you do to him?"
I shook my head, and pulled my hands away from hers, which were squeezing so hard it hurt. "I did nothing."
"Obviously you did something."
"I..." Mother above. "I just talked to him."
She pinched the bridge of her nose. "You sent him into a panic attack, is what you did. He didn't even know that's what it was. Cauldron boil..."
My face had paled to the point where I could feel how freezing my lips seemed. I couldn't breathe, not really. I... I'm not sure what to do anymore.
Miryam eyed me and sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said it like that. You didn't do anything on purpose, I know. But he's... he's not in a very good place right now."
"Why—why were you in there?" I was so scared to speak, it came out in a whisper.
"He thought he was dying and sent for me—thought I might be able to help. This is not my area of expertise, though."
"Can I go in?"
Her gaze on me softened. "I wouldn't advise it, but... yes, if you want to." I stepped past her to the cracked door. It was dark beyond that point. She took a deep breath from behind me and said, "he doesn't seem like himself, not normal. I don't know what he is right now."
I opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind me. It was silent. The kind of silent that made my ears ring. My heartbeat quickened, no matter what I did to stop it. I scanned the room in search of anything, but it was so difficult to see.
Until I saw a strange thing. A pair of shoes under the foot of the bed. I walked over slowly, making sure to not make a sound. I didn't know why, but I was so afraid of making him move. Like he was an animal, and I was nothing but a rabbit.
I dropped to my knees and bent over to look under the bed. I couldn't entirely see him, or really anything. The shadows were everywhere. Not just around him, but around the room. It felt like I was being watched by a million eyes, all of which judged my movements. They looked alive.
Not that they weren't before, but now... something about them reminded me of a pack of wolves. He wasn't holding them back, wasn't puppeteering them anymore. They were just existing around him—and protecting him.
"That can't be comfortable," I said softly, trying to lighten the situation.
"It isn't supposed to be," he responded in a whisper that I could barely hear through the shadows.
I challenged the darkness. I slid onto my back and shimmied under the bed beside him. It was tight and dusty, and I had to scrunch my nose to keep from sneezing.
I reached out and hesitantly brushed the back of my hand against his. Just so he knew I was there, waiting for him. I stared up at the underside of the bed with him, tried to put myself in his mind. It was impossible, though.
"I guess it's not that bad," I said, smiling a little. "Why are you down here?"
"It's familiar." Even if I didn't fully understand him, he was talking. At least he was talking.
"Do you want it to be quiet?" I asked, head turned to the side to look at him.
I could see his face now, like the shadows left the underside of the bed and surrounded us instead. He didn't blink, didn't move his eyes or his face in any way. Just stared at the ceiling, feeling whatever was happening to his mind.
Then he shook his head—barely shook his head. "Never."
I turned my head back around and mentally reminded myself that I'd need to wash my hair. I could feel the dust collecting between the strands.
Silence wasn't wanted, that I could relate to. Silence was terrifying because it played with the idea that you'll never know what happens around you, that you will be alone with yourself forever.
So, I talked. "before my mother died, she walked the beach every morning and every evening. She walked up and down until the sun fully rose or completely set. I was the worst sleeper when I was a child—always going to bed late and waking up before light." I smiled to myself at the memories. "Some mornings I'd wake just so I could watch her walk the shoreline. And sometimes I'd join her. But we never talked. Instead, she made me listen to the waves with her."
I could tell his eyes were on me now, and the shadows seemed to calm their storm around us. I don't know why I told him about my mother, of all people. Maybe it was because I knew we could relate to each other.
"She told me her family came from the sea, and that, one day, she would return to it and reunite with them again. It was only after she died I realized what that meant." I took a deep breath and swallowed the dryness in the back of my throat. "There were once a hundred islands between Hybern and Prythian. The fae that lived there were cut off from the rest of our kind. All those islands have now sunk beneath the rising water. And so my mother's entire past, her family, are all beneath the sea. She said she was the last survivor, that a fire destroyed the ships and trapped the rest of them while she was already living in Hybern. And in a single night, a wave washed their island away."
Now would be the time to stop talking, but I couldn't. Once I started, I had to finish. However painful it was, however horrid it sounded.
"I think... in the end, my mother walked those beaches so she could avoid my father. She walked them in the morning and didn't return until he was already awake and working in his office, and she stayed walking at night until she was sure he was asleep. My mother wished to leave my father and drown in the ocean, and instead she drowned in her own blood, beaten to death by him... while I was forced to watch."
I turned my head back to look at him and tried so hard not to cry, because that was the first time I had ever spoken to anyone about how my mother died. And I think he knew that. His eyes were soft as they stared at me, but with a vicious rage that couldn't escape. So sharp, so predatory.
Yet, all I could see was this person in front of me. This child, who was afraid of something I couldn't see just by looking at them. This boy that didn't know what he was looking at—didn't even know what he was. Someone who lost their innocence too early, that never got the chance to live as a child. Forced to grow up in order to protect themself.
I sucked in another breath and said, "I've... never told anyone that."
"Then why me?" He asked, voice sounding a little more familiar.
"I... I can see a little of myself in your eyes," I said, unsure of my own words. "And I think... if I didn't tell you, that you would live the rest of your life thinking you were entirely alone, when you aren't."
I could see in his eyes the acknowledging of my words. He did the one thing I couldn't expect—couldn't see coming. He started crying. Silently, and without moving a muscle, tears formed and fell slowly down his face.
I sucked in a sharp breath and blinked. One blink was all it took for a rogue tear to tickle down my temple. I didn't think he wanted to cry, or wanted me to know he was crying.
He lifted his hand and wiped his cheeks, but they still fell and covered his face. I didn't think, just acted. I lifted a hand and grabbed his gently, then brought it back down to his side.
I just held his hand. Even if he didn't act like he wanted it, I knew he craved a taste of touch. To be comforted with touch, rather than words. Sometimes words were nothing but sounds too complicated to understand. Sometimes touch was the only thing that could allow you to communicate, the only thing that could give you peace.
So I slowly, carefully, rubbed his palm with my fingers, brushed them along his knuckles. If the sensation of touch was enough to take his mind away, I would force it on him. Even if he squeezed my hand so hard it hurt, I would still hold on.
I didn't know how long we stayed like that, wrapped up in darkness, silently washing the world away with tears. It felt like a lifetime. But I was patient. I could wait that lifetime.
I didn't know why, but I would. I didn't even know him that well, yet I would do something like that. For him. Not just because I could see myself in his eyes, but because I saw someone that didn't look and see a young, stupid, female High Fae. It was as simple as that.
It was so simple, in fact, that it made me infuriated. How could it only be one person? One male, that's all it was. Just him. I hated that it was just him. Just this person I honestly couldn't stand half the time. This person I sometimes wished I could never speak to again.
He was the only one of them that didn't look through me. Was that why I hated him so—or at least pretended to? I was at a point now where I couldn't say I hated him and actually mean it.
Something about that fact made me feel a little... better. It was just him. Just one person. Not an abundance, not an army. One singular person. So, that meant I hated him—and also cared about him.
There was so much confusion when it came to Azriel. All these opposing feelings I couldn't control. So many things I really wanted to say and do, but thought would cross the line with him—and sometimes it did. Like now. I felt so ashamed of that.
All I could do was hold his hand and let him hold mine. To feel his hand shake as waves of pent up emotion continued to find him. To listen to his sharp breathing, forcing and trying so hard to calm and ease.
I could only lay there and let the wave wash through me in order to fall over him. To hold him down, and just exist for him as an anchor until he could breathe again. Until the water washed away to reveal sunlight again. And I would do that a million times over, because it was the one thing no one ever did for me.
-Authors Note-
so... I'm no longer letting myself write while listening to sad music. I was actually supposed to be editing this and then I just deleted the last half and rewrote it cause I love making you and me suffer more :,) it was originally supposed to be a scene where they didn't talk at all, but the more I thought about it the more I thought that az finds silence uncomfortable cause he's used to the shadows- ya know?
anyway, I'm very happy with where this story is going and I just know y'all are gonna really hate me when it's over but I signed up for this and so did you. *cries*
I hope you have a great week/weekend and I hope you enjoyed that chapter! see you later!