Chapter Text
Part 1
Full night had descended over Velaris, blanketing the sky in a soft velvety black, strewn with sparking stars. The aurora that was most active this time of year had just begun it's dance of light across the sky, waves of green, purple, teal and magenta blending together as the Shadowsinger stood on the balcony of the House of Wind, hands in his pockets and head tilted back.
"Where the bloody hell are you, priestess?" he grumbled as another cloud of air puffed in front of his face. He was meant to escort Gwyn to Rhysand's house for dinner where everyone else was already waiting and she was supposed to have met him here twenty minutes ago.
Mor had taken Emerie shopping that morning and they'd gone straight to the River House afterward. Nesta had gone to help watch Nyx while Cassian and Feyre decorated the house and Elain helped the twins in the kitchen. He had no idea what Rhys had been doing all day while Azriel had been writing reports and preparing for the holiday, but it was freezing out here and he'd much rather be by his brother's fire, enjoying his booze.
It was the first time that someone outside of their circle had been invited to join them for Solstice dinner and he knew Gwyn had been nervous. She'd been talking his ear off all week about what she should wear, and whether she was expected to bring gifts. He'd done his best to assure her that no one would care what she wore, and no one expected her to bring gifts unless she wanted to, but he knew she fretted about it anyway. That was who Gwyn was.
His fingers brushed the velvet box in his pocket and he wondered again what had possessed him to purchase the gift when he'd seen it in a shop window a few days ago. Though, he supposed that wasn't entirely true. He knew why he'd bought it. He just wouldn't be admitting it outloud to anyone. Particularly to the gift's recipient.
Just then, as he was about to head down to the library and drag the priestess out no matter what she was wearing, he felt his shadows still, their attention drawn behind him. He didn't need to look to know who was there. Finally. "Took you long enough, Berdara..." His words died on his tongue as he turned and beheld the vision walking towards him.
Gwyn had chosen a simple, dark blue velvet dress that accentuated the copper tones in her hair which had been swept up into a braid that wrapped around her head like a crown, soft tendrils curling near her temples. Little sprigs of holly had been woven between the plaits, and her pale, freckled skin seemed to glow. He realized his mouth had dropped open a bit and snapped it shut, clearing his throat.
"You look- nice." Nice? Is that the best you can do? his shadows seemed to hiss at him as they offered other adjectives he might have used instead. Breathtaking. Exquisite. Stunning. Gorgeous. Ethereal. He mentally waved them off as Gwyn stopped before him, her gaze moving over him in a way that made his blood warm.
"You clean up rather well yourself, Shadowsinger." She smiled and he suddenly had the insane urge to flare his wings out the way a peacock might show it's feathers. What is wrong with you? Delirium, he decided. She'd made him wait so long he was starving.
"Ready?" she asked, gathering her skirt in one hand and stepping to his side so he could pick her up. He noticed the small satchel she carried and realized she must have decided to bring some gifts after all. He was curious what she'd gotten as he couldn't recall her actually going shopping in the last few days.
She'd made great progress over the last year, particularly after the battle with Koschei in the summer. It seemed, after yet another brush with death, the priestess had decided life was too short to be afraid of something so 'trivial' as leaving the safety of the Library and had begun joining her friends somewhat regularly in the city for lunch or a night out.
He'd had the pleasure of escorting her more than once, which was indeed a pleasure as he hadn't known many without wings who seemed to take as much joy in flying as she did. He smirked as he scooped her up, readjusting so he could carry her comfortably. "I was the one waiting for you, remember?"
She waved a hand dismissively, wrapping her arms around his neck as he approached the edge of the balcony and stretched his wings. "Nuance. Let's go, I'm starving."
He chuckled. "Dinner isn't for an hour," he said as he launched into the air without warning. She threw her head back, letting out a sound of pure delight as they streaked high into the air before he flattened out his wings and they began soaring towards the city.
"Drinks then," she said, still laughing breathlessly. "I hear the High Lord has quite the wine collection."
"Indeed," he grinned. "I see how it is. You only want to hang out with us for the alcohol."
A careless shrug. "There are perks to being friends with the High Lady's sister."
He laughed, beginning their descent towards the River House in the heart of the city. They flew through the wards Rhysand had erected around the property and landed on the terrace just outside the doors to the living room. He set her gently on the ground and his shadows took the opportunity to dart out, playing with her hair as they gently pushed the pieces of Holly that had come loose during the flight back into her braid.
Behave, he hissed at them, but Gwyn just smiled. "Hello," she said to them, lifting her hand to pat her hair, checking it was all in place. "Thank you." His shadows swirled happily as they settled back on his shoulders.
"Shall we?" he said, gesturing towards the door. He opened it as she nodded and stepped past him into the house. Mor's cackling laughter spilled out and his gaze darted to where she leaned against Emerie's shoulder, laughing at some story Cassian was telling while his mate shook her head with a small smile.
The Illyrian female was grinning, face flushed as she sipped a glass of wine and darted glances at the golden beauty beside her. He'd expected to be, at the very least, jealous when Mor had begun showing a marked interest in the pretty Valkyrie last summer but Azriel had been somewhat surprised to find he was quite at peace with it. He was happy that Mor was happy, and that was enough. He wasn't sure exactly when he'd finally moved on from her, probably sometime around when he'd begun thinking of his High Lady's sister instead, but he'd been more than happy to close that chapter of his life.
Thinking of Elain, he spotted her in the corner of the room, secluded from the merriment, though she watched with a fond smile. She was dressed in a deep red gown that flattered her coloring much more than the dark blues and blacks she often selected for formal events. Despite this, she still looked... not well.
They'd all noticed how she'd begun withdrawing back into herself over the last year. She was by no means as destructive and angry as her older sister had once been, but she was clearly unhappy. Even if she did still smile and work in her garden and play with her nephew. That seemed to be all she did. She rarely ventured outside the house anymore according to Feyre and they were all worried about her, though no one seemed to know what to do for her.
Nesta's behavior had been much easier to deal with as she was lashing out and hurting not only herself but everyone around her, whereas Elain seemed content but also seemed to be barely present anymore. At least she was not consumed by her visions as she'd been when she'd first arrived in Prythian. No one was even sure if she still had visions at all. Still, they were all at a loss for how to help her, though Azriel had an idea where they might begin.
He'd been reluctant to admit it at first, but Elain's decline had begun with the seemingly indefinite departure of her mate. Rather than celebrating his absence as he'd expected to, as he'd expected her to, Azriel had instead felt guilty, while Elain had begun to pull away from everyone.
Rhys had been right. He'd had no business inserting himself between a mated couple who had come to no resolution on their own relationship. Whether she chose to reject the bond or not, Elain had not yet been free to become involved with anyone else. He couldn't say for certain if what had happened last Solstice had in fact precipitated the lordling's decision to leave, but Azriel didn't believe in coincidence. He was, however, disappointed that Lucien hadn't decided to stay and fight as they'd expected.
Shrieking laughter brought his attention back to the room, shaking off thoughts that were better left alone. Feyre had brought Nyx down from the nursery and he was now attempting to waddle his way across the carpet towards his father. Next to him, he saw Gwyn, the apparent source of Nyx's laughter as she crouched behind Rhys' shoulder making silly faces.
She changed her expression which caused the boy to laugh so hard he fell backwards on his bum, little wings flapping in a desperate attempt to keep him upright. Rhys looked over his shoulder, seeming to just notice the source of his son's distraction and glared goodnaturedly at her. She straightened quickly, plastering on an innocent smile.
"So glad you could join us, priestess," Rhysand said dryly. Behind him, Nyx climbed to his feet again crying 'Wyn! Wyn!' The little High Lord had become smitten with Gwyn the first time they met, and both Rhys and Feyre had (not so jokingly) begged her more than once to become his part time nanny.
Gwyn ignored Rhysand as she stepped beside his seat and knelt down to greet Nyx properly. "Hello sweetling," she cooed. Nyx wobbled his way over and into her arms where she rewarded him with a loud kiss on the cheek before handing him off to Rhys. "My Lord. Happy Solstice."
Even as he settled into his father's arms, Nyx stared adoringly at Gwyn. Rhys shook his head as he smiled ruefully. "Good evening, Gwyneth. Happy Solstice."
The rest of the room, having now noticed their presence, exchanged greetings as he and Gwyn were ushered into the room and handed drinks. Gwyn sat next to Mor and Emerie while Azriel took a vacant chair next to where Cassian and Nesta sat. As conversation resumed, he found his gaze moving back towards Gwyn repeatedly while absently rubbing at his chest.
When he'd seen her with Nyx just now, he'd sworn he'd felt something tug at him which, of course, made no sense. It wasn't the first time he'd seen her interact with his nephew, and even so why should he feel anything about it?
He'd never given much thought to children beyond the vague idea that he might have them someday. If he ever found his mate. Day by day though, that possibility seemed less likely and he sometimes wondered if he might not be happier settling for the kind of casual relationships he'd had in the past. He was no saint, to be sure. The last five hundred years would have been very miserable indeed if he didn't occasionally seek out companionship, even as he pined over another. It had been some time though, since he'd been with anyone... Perhaps it was time to do so again. Perhaps even on a more long term basis...
Dinner was called while he silently mused over this. "Wake up, Shadowsinger," Amren said as she passed on Varian's arm. "Your services are needed."
Azriel glanced up from the glass of whiskey he'd been contemplating to find both Gwyn and Elain hovering somewhat awkwardly near the back of the group as Feyre and Nesta were escorted by their mates into dinner and Amren by Varian with Mor and Emrie following, arm in arm.
Jumping to his feet, he cleared his throat and offered them each an arm. "Ladies."
Dinner was as chaotic as always, especially now that they had two additional guests, with dishes being passed every which way and five different conversations competing with each other for volume. Azriel sat right in the middle of it all, Elain on one side, quietly pushing her food around as she observed everyone else, Gwyn on the other, having a spirited debate with Rhysand about some book or other.
"That did not happen," Rhysand insisted, pointing his fork at the priestess. "I've read the book, I would remember."
"As have I, probably much more recently than you."
Rhys narrowed his eyes. "Are you calling me old?"
"I'm saying, perhaps my memory is a bit fresher. Sometimes we don't recall details with clarity over time, especially if we've read other stories in the meantime."
"Very diplomatic of you, Gwyneth," Rhys nodded with approval.
The priestess bowed her head graciously while Rhys' eyes glittered with amusement. Much like his son, he'd also taken a liking to Gwyn almost immediately. She seemed to have an innate ability to charm anyone she met, putting them at ease and making them feel seen. He wasn't sure how else she'd managed to befriend Nesta, having met her near the bottom of her downward spiral. She'd even managed to befriend Elain and was the only one he'd seen make the middle Archeron sister truly smile in months.
Azriel turned and asked Elain how her garden was coming along, feeling awkward when he realized he couldn't remember the name of the plant she'd last told him about that she'd been attempting to cultivate. Her response was short, but polite, nothing like the usual rambling answers she used to give when she'd go on and on for a near quarter of an hour about whatever her latest project was.
He watched as her gaze moved around the table, between each of the paired off guests, particularly her mated sisters and noted the flash of sadness on her face. Rather than jealousy, he felt pity and sympathy for her and realized Mor was not the only one he'd moved on from. Wherever Lucien had ended up spending his Solstice, he hoped the idiot returned soon to reclaim his mate.
By the time they alited back on the balcony outside the House of Wind, it was well after midnight. Azriel would've stayed at the River House with everyone else so he could fly out to the cabin with his brothers in the morning, but had to return Gwyn so she could make the sunrise service in the Library.
Gwyn hummed happily as he set her on her feet, her cheeks flushed from the few glasses of wine she'd had. She swayed and twirled to music of her own as she made her way inside and he was compelled to follow her as his shadows reached out to dance with her.
Her satchel was considerably heavier than it had been when they left. She'd given her fellow Valkyries beautiful new silk ribbons that she'd hand stitched with intricate patterns to wear with their leathers since the ones they'd cut had become worn and yellowed from sweat and had instead been relegated to the handles of their weapons. In exchange, she'd received new books from both of them, as well as Rhysand. She had then proceeded to lament over the fact that she had not gotten him anything which he'd laughingly assured her was not necessary. The point of a gift, as he said, was that it was not expected to be reciprocated.
His own gifts, a new sheath for Truthteller from Cassian and Nesta, an elaborate buckle from Amren, a truly hideous scarf from Mor, and an enchanted listening device from Rhys and Feyre, were still sitting in a pile back at the River House.
"Oh!" Gwyn whirled around. "I almost forgot. I have something for you."
"For me?" he asked, suddenly remembering the velvet box still in his pocket. "Actually, so do I." She blinked in surprise as he reached into his pocket and handed over the box before he could second guess himself anymore than he already had.
She flicked the box open and gasped quietly. "Oh." When all she did was stare at it, he began to feel self conscious. It was too much. You knew it was too much when you bought it, so why the hell did you buy it??
He rubbed the back of his neck which had begun to prick with heat. "Er, it's nothing special, it just reminded me of you." Which was true, but it wasn't the only reason he'd bought it. Slowly, she hooked a finger around the long silver chain and pulled it out of the box so the pendant hung before her face. An oval locket with a pattern of swirling waves etched into it.
He'd been carrying it around for weeks after seeing it in a shop. He wasn't sure why he'd stopped, but as soon as he saw it, he knew he'd be purchasing it even before he'd truly made the decision.
For the last year, any time Gwyn had a reason to dress up in something more than her leathers or robes, she'd worn that damn necklace he'd left for her with Clotho last Solstice. The one he'd originally bought for Elain.
She certainly seemed to like it, and was always happy to tell anyone who asked about it that it was 'a gift from a friend' whenever she wore it, but he'd seen Elain spot her wearing it at Nesta and Cassian's mating ceremony and the guilt had eaten him up every time he'd seen it since. As much as she seemed to like it, he'd wanted her to have something of her own. Something that had been purchased with her specifically in mind.
Thus, the locket she now held.
"I just thought, maybe if you had a picture of your sister... or if you just want to swap it for the one you wear your invoking stone on, it should fit in there-" For the second time that night she made his words die on his tongue as she stepped forward and kissed his cheek.
He startled slightly then, to his horror, blushed as she pulled away, hooking the chain around her neck and holding the locket up to the light to admire. The smile she gave him when she looked up sent his heartbeat stuttering. "Thank you. It's beautiful."
"You're welcome," he replied softly.
Her face pinched into a pretty frown. Could frowns be pretty? Apparently. And since when had he started thinking of Gwyn as pretty? Since always, his shadows crooned. Truth. She was, undoubtedly, one of the most beautiful females he'd ever met, but it wasn't often he found himself dwelling on it. Yet how many times tonight had he admired the way her hair looked in the candle light, or how the color of her dress complimented her skin tone, or how her smile made her eyes brighter?
She was so close. She'd barely stepped back after kissing his cheek and was now standing so close her scent was all around him. Camellia flowers, and a rich, calming scent that made him feel nostalgic for something he couldn't quite put his finger on.
She was reaching into her satchel now, rummaging around for something. "I'm afraid your lovely gift makes mine seem a bit... humble. All the same..." She withdrew her hand holding out a length of braided threads to him. Red, blue, and violet, woven tightly together with a glittering black bead in the center.
He blinked, smiling slowly as he realized what it was. "Is this one of your famous friendship bracelets?"
She nodded with a small smile of her own.
"I was wondering if I'd ever get one. I noticed you gave Cassian one for his birthday. I was starting to feel left out." He pushed his lips out in a pout.
"Well, you have one now, so stop your whining, you big baby."
He grinned, taking it from her hands and running his thumb along the threads. "The colors..."
"You, Cassian, and Rhysand," she said, pointing them out. "The bead is for your shadows."
His shadows purred in response, happy to be included. "Thank you. They say thank you as well," he added when one of his shadows nudged him.
"You're very welcome. Do you want me to help you put it on?"
"Sure." He held it back out to her, extending his wrist. He watched as long, delicate fingers deftly tied the ends into a knot, pausing before she pulled it tight.
"You're supposed to make a wish." There was a mischievous glint in her eye, like she was daring him to tell her no. He narrowed his eyes at her before humoring her by closing them, pretending to whisper some secret to the universe. He heard her amused chuckle and felt her knuckles brush against the inside of his wrist as she tightened the strings. "There. Now, when it falls off, the wish will come true."
He opened his eyes and smirked. "Is that so?" She nodded sagely. "And what did you wish for?" he asked, nodding at the bracelet on her own wrist that looked like it was about to fall off any day now.
"Ah, that would be telling." Her eyes twinkled, lips curling in a way that drew his attention to them and suddenly his entire perception of her changed, as though the picture had been askew and was now righted.
She wasn't just his objectively pretty friend and pupil. She was a stunningly beautiful woman that made his pulse race and his thoughts turn a little muddy. He glanced lower to where the neckline of her dress swooped across her collarbone, freckled skin peeking out, making him wonder how many more spots were hidden beneath the soft fabric. He took in the way the velvet clung to the curves of her body, the same ones he'd seen every morning, wrapped in tight leather but now wondered how they'd feel to run his hands over...
His mind fragmented at the realization that he was attracted to her. When had that happened? Then of course, his mind chose to remind him of the exact circumstances that had brought her here in the first place. Exactly why she had spent the last three years living in the Library and forced himself to stop before those thoughts went any further.
Gwyn was his friend, not some female from the town to spend his evening with. She wasn't flirting with him, she was just naturally vivacious. He had no right to think such things about her, but heavens, was he thinking of them now...
He could feel his mind spiraling and decided to retreat before he made a fool of himself.
"I should get to bed," he said, taking a step back. "I have a battle to win tomorrow and Rhysand and Cassian will not take pity on me for lack of sleep."
Gwyn cocked her head "Ah, yes. The famous snowball fight. I heard about that."
"Then you understand why I must bid you goodnight, fair lady," he said, retreating another step and bowing. Fair lady? Who was he? He had to get away from her right now. She'd been making him think and say odd things all night. He needed time to think and reevaluate this new development.
She giggled, dipping into a graceful curtsey. "But of course. Fare thee well, good knight. I wish you luck."
Despite himself, he chuckled. "Good night, Gwyn."
She turned towards the stairs leading down to the Library and looked back over her shoulder. "Good night, Azriel." Once again his heart beat out of time at the sound of his name in her lovely, musical voice. He couldn't recall her ever actually saying it before. He was always Shadowsinger to her.
As he turned to walk to his rooms, he heard her begin humming again, the sound fading away as they moved further apart. He heard his shadows hum back and joined them under his breath.