Chapter 4 - The Night Before
Chapter 4 – The Night Before
-Gwyn-
“He did not!” Emerie cackled, rocking backwards from where she sat on the floor of Nesta’s bedroom.
“Hand to the Gods, I swear!” Nesta laughed. “He seriously though I had a fetish for males in lace!”
Gwyn clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to hold back her own howls of laughter. “So that’s what he thought we were talking about that day?!”
Nesta could hardly catch her breath. “Yes! I have no idea what we said that made him think I wanted him to put on my lace thigh-high stockings and gloves, but that’s what he heard!”
“Oh, my Gods! The Lord of Bloodshed: Femme Fatale!” Emerie cried, kicking her feet happily in the air.
“Swear you won’t tell Mor, Emerie,” Nesta grinned, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “He would die of mortification.”
Emerie faltered for only a moment, her cheeks turning pink at her friend’s obvious conjecture that she was on some kind of terms with the lovely Morrigan. She quickly regained her composure though and resumed her giggling.
Once their laughter had died down, Gwyn asked her friends, “Do males…I mean, are there males that are into that kind of thing?”
Nesta snorted. “I’m sure there are, but Cassian isn’t one of them. He just…” she trailed off.
“He just loves you so much that he’d do anything to make you happy,” Emerie finished for her.
“Yeah,” Nesta said, her eyes shining with love. “He does.” She barked a laugh then. “Including dressing up in female intimate wear. The big fool.”
“I hope that if I’m ever in a relationship someday, that he’s not into any…romantic eccentricities like that,” Gwyn murmured. “I don’t know that I could stick around once I knew he was into something like that.”
Nesta shrugged. “To each their own, I suppose. I, for one, prefer my male to be nothing but pure, raw masculinity with an endearing goofiness.” A sly grin spread across her face, and Gwyn knew she was thinking of Cassian.
Emerie said nothing, only taking a very loud gulp of her water, while Gwyn gave an agreeing nod.
Nesta looked at Gwyn pointedly. “So, we know that you wouldn’t find cross-dressing appealing…what kinds of qualities would you want in a male, Gwyn?”
Her friends knew of her recent longing for something different than the quiet, sheltered servitude of a priestess in the Library, as well as her interest in potentially pursuing romance with a male—though she had neglected to tell them that she fantasized that male to be none other than the Night Court Spymaster.
“I’m not sure,” she lied. “I’d lived in the temple all my life before—” She paused to swallow the lump in her throat. “Before I came here. We didn’t interact with males regularly at Sangravah.”
Her friends nodded their understanding. “Are you interested in any of the males here in Velaris?” Emerie asked.
Gwyn shrugged, attempting to remain nonchalant, taking a dainty sip of her hot cocoa. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll come across a handsome male at Nesta’s mating ceremony.”
Nesta was far too perceptive, however, and saw right past Gwyn’s casualness. “You haven’t had even a slight interest in anyone, hmm Gwyn? Not even a certain brooding Illyrian with an impressive wingspan, or so I hear?” She waggled her eyebrows.
Gwyn’s mouth dropped open, and Emerie giggled. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, Nesta Archeron,” she replied and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Come on Gwyn, you’re so full of it!” Emerie teased. “You like Az! Admit it!”
“No!” Gwyn shrieked. “I mean…no! We’re friends, that’s all.”
“You think we don’t see the look you get on your face whenever you see him enter the pit?” Emerie asked.
Gwyn’s eyes widened. “I do not get a look!” she protested. Her hands flew to her cheeks then. ”Oh, Gods! Do I? What if he thinks I'm looking at him like…like…”
”Like you want to verify the wingspan theory for yourself?” Nests snickered.
Gwyn knew that her face must match her hair by now. “I do not! I mean…no, I do not!”
Nesta smirked while Emerie cackled again. “Don’t worry,” Emerie told her. “If he did notice the way you look at him, it wouldn’t matter. It’s pretty clear that he’s into you too, based on how he looks at you.”
“No, he’s…we’re just friends.” The air suddenly felt stifling. And why was it so hot in there? Gwyn began to fan herself with a flappy hand.
“You are turning all kinds of red, Gwyneth Anne Berdara,” Nesta teased. “You look like you’re about to catch on fire.”
“I don’t have a middle name,” Gwyn sniffed, trying her best to look haughty.
Emerie tapped her chin. “So, you’re saying that there hasn’t been a kind of…energy between you two lately?”
“No, there has not!” Gwyn protested like a petulant child, beginning to hyperventilate. “And I can't see how you noticed anything, Nesta, since you spend most of the training time making googly eyes at your mate!” Emerie chortled and Nesta raised an amused brow.
“Stop trying to change the subject.” Nesta’s eyes softened then, and she placed a comforting hand on Gwyn’s shoulder. “Honestly, he is a good male. He would be good to you. He would be good for you.”
“I know he’s a good male.” Gwyn tried to even out her breathing. “We’re just friends though.”
”Seriously Gwyn, all teasing aside—I really do think he has feelings for you.” Nesta kept her hand on Gwyn’s shoulder. “He’s always sneaking glances at you when you’re not looking, he smiles more when he’s just in the same space as you than at any other time of day—“
”You can’t possibly know that,” Gwyn interrupted. “You aren’t with him all day, Nes.”
Nesta went on like Gwyn hadn’t said a thing. “Plus, I have heard him snap at Cassian a few times when Cass tried to critique your form in the training ring.”
“Probably because he wants to correct your form,” Emerie muttered.
Gwyn felt a small smile tug at the corner of her mouth, but she quickly shook away the bit of happiness she felt at listening to them. “Why are we talking about me and Azriel?” she grumbled instead.
“Alright, alright, Gwyn, calm yourself.” Nesta held up her hands placatingly. “I just want to see you happy.”
“We all do,” Emerie agreed. “You deserve that and so much more.”
“You’re right though, there will be plenty of single males at the ceremony.” Nesta’s eyes lit up suddenly. “Oh my Gods, Gwyn! I saw the perfect dress for you while I was out with the others today! It would be perfect for tomorrow!”
“Oh, I don’t need a new dress.” Gwyn shook her head before taking another sip of cocoa. “I was actually going to ask if I can look through your closet tonight and perhaps borrow something?”
Nesta frowned. “Nonsense! Seriously, Gwyn, while we were out today, Elain spotted it and started saying how she wished she had the coloring for it because it was so gorgeous and that she would buy it if she could pull it off. I can’t believe I didn’t realize it then, but you have the perfect coloring for it, Gwyn!”
Gwyn eyed her friends suspiciously. “What does that mean?”
“It means, we are going shopping first thing in the morning!” Nesta squealed.
“We won’t have time, Nes—” Gwyn started to protest, but Emerie cut her off.
“Yes, we will! We don’t have to be at Mor’s until eleven for hair and makeup. We’ll have plenty of time.”
“Plus,” Nesta added. “I remember exactly which store it was at, so we’ll be in and out like that.” She snapped her fingers in emphasis.
Gwyn looked nervously at her two sisters. “I don’t know…I mean, I’m sure you have something I can borrow? I don’t think I need a whole new dress.”
“Trust me,” Nesta said. “I would never steer you wrong. You are going to look so spectacular, Azri—” Gwyn saw Emerie quickly shake her head at Nesta out of the corner of her eye before Nesta fumbled to recover. “I mean, uh, the males at the party won’t be able to take their eyes off you.”
Gwyn did trust them, though she was still wary of their plans to dress her up. She shook off the feeling of apprehension, instead smiling at her two best friends. “Alright, I’ll at least go and take a look at it.”
Nesta and Emerie fist pumped into the air, while Gwyn laughed.
After all, what could go wrong?
-Azriel-
He was really trying not to be a downer, especially on Cassian’s last night of “freedom” before being officially mated. Azriel’s mind kept wandering to Gwyn, however, no matter how hard he tried to stay present with his brothers. He wondered what she was doing right then with Nesta and Emerie. Probably making bracelets and conjuring up mini Pegasi, which apparently was a favorite pastime for the three females. He’d heard that Gwyn’s wretched supervisor, Merrill, refused to let Gwyn spend the day with Nesta and the rest of the Inner Circle, so while he had really wished he was on top of the House of Wind, laughing and talking with her, he was happy that she was able to spend tonight with her two closest friends.
A hand clapped him on the back, Rhysand’s voice booming over the music and raucous voices of the tavern. “Az! Cassian just challenged those pricks over there to a dance-off! You don’t want to miss this!”
Azriel rolled his eyes. Rhys was only tipsy at worst, and Az had so far stuck with water. Cassian, however, had been absolutely shitfaced for the last hour.
“We should probably make him stick to water from now on,” Azriel told Rhys, watching Cassian chug ale from a large mug on the other side of the room. “We’ll have to carry him down the aisle at his own mating ceremony tomorrow if he keeps this up.”
“Ah, let him have tonight,” Rhys argued.
“Alright,” Azriel agreed sarcastically. “You can be the one to tell Nesta why her mate is crawling on all fours to the altar tomorrow and why he vomited on her in front of hundreds of guests.” A crash sounded from across the dance floor, and they turned to see Cassian doing some incredibly ungraceful spin moves with his wings flared out, knocking glasses and dishware off the tables around him.
Turning back to Rhys, he added, “And why she is now on the hook for replacing all of the glassware in this place.” Another crash; this time Cassian had fallen onto a table, collapsing it to the floor. “And all of the furniture.”
Rhysand cringed. “Yeah, alright. I’m going to need your help to wrangle him though.”
Azriel nodded, taking another gulp of water, before rising from his bar stool and following Rhys to where Cassian was spastically moving his arms and legs while a few Fae males nearby clapped and laughed.
Once he saw him, Cassian stopped the wild convulsing that he called dancing and cheered. “Aaaaazzzz! You came!”
Azriel chuckled. “Been here the whole time, Cass.”
Cassian eyed him suspiciously. “Are you sure?”
“Unfortunately,” Azriel muttered under his breath. He wanted to celebrate with his brothers, but it was hard to enjoy himself—at least like this—the same as he would have once upon a time. He had never been one to get as boisterous as Cassian did while imbibed, at least not in public; but he’d always enjoyed a night out with Cass and Rhys, until recently that is. The time he enjoyed most nowadays was whenever Gwyn was around.
“Hey, hey, heyyy,” Cassian slurred, draping an arm over Azriel’s shoulder. “You know who we should go get? Rhysaaaaand!” He let out an undignified burp. “I miss that purple-eyed pointy-eared fucker.”
“Been here the whole time too, Cassian,” Rhys chuckled from the other side.
Cassian’s head whipped in Rhys’ direction, and a big dopey grin spread across his face. “Rhysie! You came!”
“Sure did, buddy,” Rhys smiled. “Just for you. Now, how about we get you home?”
“Awwwwww, but I just challenged these assholes to a game of Chicken!” Cassian made a sweeping motion with his hand towards the equally drunk Fae males leaning against the wall, who stuck their middle fingers up in response to Cass’ jab.
Azriel couldn’t contain his grin at that, though only because it reminded him of Gwyn’s laughter when he told her that story earlier that day in the Library. He cleared his throat. “Cass, they aren’t Illyrian.”
Cassian looked at Azriel like he had two heads.
Azriel clarified. “They don’t have wings, Cass.”
“So? We all have legs. We’ll run at each other instead of fly!” A small hiccup followed.
“Well, as fun as that sounds, I don’t think Nesta wants a male with a bashed in face looking back at her tomorrow at the altar.” Rhysand flicked off an invisible piece of lint from his jacket.
Cassian’s eyes went soft at the mention of his mate. “Nestaaaaa. Gods, I love her soooo much.” His eyes went comically wide next. “Do you think she likes me?!”
“How could she not?” Rhysand clapped a hand on Cassian’s shoulder.
“She loves you Cass.” Azriel tried to distract him with the sentiment as he and Rhys led him towards the exit.
Cassian snorted. “Yeah, she loves when I do this thing with my tongue—”
“Alright!” Azriel interrupted before Cassian could finish. “Time to go!”
“At least he hasn’t started crying yet,” Rhys said in Azriel’s mind using his daemati powers.
Cassian was grinning like a loon as he slung an arm around each of his brothers. “Did you know she changed herself so she could have my babies someday?” Once he said it, his face scrunched up. “I mean, who does that?!” he wailed.
Both Azriel and Rhys rolled their eyes. “I know, Cass, I know, it’s alright buddy.” Rhys rubbed Cassian’s back in comfort.
“She wants to have my babies!” he continued to sob.
“Don’t tell Nesta what a big softie he is,” Rhys told Azriel mind-to-mind. “At least not until after the ceremony is over tomorrow and she can’t back out.” They lugged their brother out into the mild Spring air. It would be Summer soon, and the day had already grown warmer, and the sun stayed out later into the day.
“My huge, winged Fae-llyrian babies!”
They paused with their sobbing brother between them, exchanging a look behind Cassian’s back. Fae-llyrian?
“Or what an idiot he is,” Rhys telepathed.
Azriel chuckled before telepathing back. “I don’t think it will make a difference. Especially if you tell her what he started crying over. She’d probably start climbing him like a tree right in front of us.”
Rhys laughed. Cassian was still blubbering on about babies, though not babies with Nesta anymore; he’d somehow made a segway to baby chicks. While Rhys reassured Cassian that baby chicks are not a delicacy, even in the mortal lands, Azriel resisted the urge to just leave both his brothers in the dust and fly home.
“Let’s sit him down over there.” Rhys gestured to a wrought iron bench a few storefronts away from where they stood. They practically dragged Cassian there, plopping him down in the center of the seat, while they each took to sitting on either side of him, preparing to ping-pong him back to sitting up if he teetered to one side. Cassian had begun to mumble incoherently now, eyes closed and head bobbing around as he tried to stay conscious.
“So, Azriel.” Rhys brushed off the lapels of his coat before turning his head to look at Az. “I noticed you turn away a few pretty faces in there.”
Azriel recalled the bold, leggy female with onyx hair styled in a pixie-cut who just came out with it and asked him to fuck her in the alley out back—that was the first proposition he explicitly rejected. The second one was the exact opposite of the first; long silver hair, just a head taller than Amren, and luminescent ivory skin. She was shy, clearly having been encouraged by her friends to approach him. She only asked him for a dance, and he actually felt bad for turning her down—he got the impression that she didn’t approach males often or perhaps had never done so before trying with him. She was clearly disappointed and a little embarrassed, her pearly cheeks flushing red. So, he lied and told her it wasn’t her, it was just that he was committed to another, which prompted her to apologize for “being so forward.” He had to bite back a laugh, because she was definitely not as brazen as the first one faerie that approached him, nor when compared to most females that approached him. He told her it was alright and wished her a good evening. The next one that approached him—well, it was obvious why he turned that one away. Even after he had rebuffed those three in plain view of everyone at the tavern, it didn’t stop others from eye-fucking him—including the friends of the shy one, even though he heard her tell them he was taken.
Azriel responded to Rhys with an irritated grumble. “It was only two.”
“I’m pretty sure I counted at least three.”
“The last one was a male, Rhys.”
“I stand corrected.”
“Wasn’t interested.”
“Well, of course not. You’ve never been into males.”
“In any of them, Rhys.”
“Why?”
Cassian slurred in his sleep. “No, Nes, it’s my turn to ride the Pegasus.”
Both Azriel and Rhys exchanged a quizzical look as their brother’s head rolled back just before he gave an undignified snore. Both Azriel and Rhys snorted before slapping their hands over their mouths to stifle their laughter.
More quietly so as to not disturb Cassian, Rhys asked again, “Why not Az? I’ve never known you to turn down a pretty female.”
Azriel sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Just…wasn’t, Rhys. Not in the mood, I guess.”
Rhys arched a single brow. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain female you’ve been seeing?”
Azriel’s head snapped in Rhys’ direction before he said, a little too quickly, “I’m not seeing any female.”
“I have it on good authority you’ve been seeing the same one nearly every night. The same copper-haired one with teal eyes. Meeting up atop the House of Wind. Talking for hours.”
Azriel’s eyes widened, his mouth dropping open in shock a little more with every little detail that Rhys listed off. How the fuck did he know?
The corner of Rhys’ mouth curled up in amusement, reading Azriel’s thoughts and answering his silent question. “Your shadows.”
Azriel’s shoulders stiffened as he narrowed his eyes to slits. His voice was a deadly growl. “What?” His eyes flicked to his shoulders then, watching his shadows cower, before they zipped behind his wings which were now slightly flared in anger.
“Oh, calm down, they were only doing what you commanded them to do.” Rhys must have noticed the bit of confusion that crept into Azriel’s furious expression, so he continued. “It was just under a month ago. You were away on assignment in Autumn, gathering reports from your spies there. One of your shadows—" He paused to nod his head towards the shadows that were now hiding behind Azriel’s wings. “—woke me up in the middle of the night. I figured it wasn’t trying to lead me all the way to Autumn, so I winnowed to the rooftop of the House of Wind. I found Gwyn there, with a deep cut to her calf.”
Azriel tensed when Rhys told him Gwyn was hurt. “What happened?” It was a demand rather than a question, as though he himself had been the one to find her alone and injured.
Rhys sighed. “She had been practicing some new spin-kick move, but she’d lost her balance and fell against the rack where the daggers and swords are. The cut was so deep that she couldn’t regain her footing enough to stand. When I arrived, she was crawling towards the stairwell, which is when I noticed a second shadow of yours swirling above her in a panic, where she couldn’t see it.”
Azriel was shocked. How had he not known this happened?
Rhys continued, noting his alarmed expression. “She was fine Az, like I said, she just needed help to stand up. I helped her down to the dormitories so she could get her invoking stone to help heal the wound. But it got me thinking: Why were two of your shadows left behind, and why did it seem like they were discreetly watching over Gwyn?” He raised an eyebrow and looked emphatically at Azriel. “So, I started doing a little spying on the Spymaster.”
“You’ve been snooping on Gwyn and me?” Azriel asked incredulously, feeling his face heat with anger.
“Yes, I have.” Rhys didn’t sound the least bit apologetic or even cautious of Azriel’s rising temper. “I found it curious. I can understand the late-night training sessions with just the two of you. I mean, you’re not the most social being, Az, and Gwyn…well, she has good reason to shy away from the world. But lately, when I see you two in the training pit, it appears that something is…evolving between the two of you. You’re not just training any longer; you’re forming a relationship. My question now is: What is that relationship exactly, Az?”
Azriel was still too dumbstruck to consider the question, too much information coming to light in the past five minutes. “H-how is it possible that I didn’t know any of this?” he rasped.
“I asked the shadows to keep it confidential from you but also told them to keep watching over her in your absence, and to get me if she was in need of help.” Rhys shrugged. “I wasn’t even sure that they would keep it from you—I still don’t fully understand the nature of your relationship with your shadows. But when you didn’t confront me, I figured they’d heeded my request.” Rhys turned back to look at Azriel. “I used magic to clean up the mess of her blood and the scattered weapons in the ring.”
Azriel remembered then, coming back from that mission, and entering the ring. He had seen the stitch in the calf of her leathers, but when he’d asked her about it, she’d told him it was nothing. Before he’d been able to ask any more questions, Cassian had shown up to start the day’s practice with all of the Valkyries.
“Again, Azriel, what’s happening between you and Gwyn?”
Azriel blew out a heavy breath, running his hand down his face. “We’re friends, Rhys. That’s all.”
“You want more than that with her.” It wasn’t a question.
“I don’t know what I want.” It was a lie. He knew what he wanted, and who he wanted it with.
Rhys looked at him with disbelief. “All those centuries you spent pining after Mor, then your more recent infatuation with Elain, yet you were never so…protective over them. There’s something about Gwyn that makes you want to watch over her, even when you can’t be here to do it yourself. I think it’s pretty obvious what it is you want.” The High Lord’s gaze darkened then. “Though, if I’m wrong, and this is just a fleeting desire to you, another lust-driven craving like Elain, then leave her be, Az. She deserves better than just being an afterthought.”
Azriel stiffened at the warning. “She’s not an afterthought.”
“Rebound, back-up plan, whatever you want to call it. If that’s all she is to you—”
“Fuck you, Rhysand,” Azriel growled.
“Az—”
“She means more to me than any female I’ve ever met!” Azriel spat. “She will never be anyone’s second choice or casual fling as long as I have air in my lungs, you prick.” Cassian stirred briefly, before he laid his head down on Rhys’ shoulder. His voice more quiet now yet still laced with venom, Azriel seethed, “If you ever insinuate that she is just some meaningless fuck to pass the time with, some sorry replica of what I thought that I should have with Mor or Elain, I’ll rip your arms off and beat you to death with them.”
Rhys stared hard at Azriel, neither of their gazes flinching. It wasn’t the first time they’d had such a stare down, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. The tension was broken up by Cassian mumbling something about Nesta being “a wet dream in those tight leathers.”
“Let’s just get him home,” Azriel grumbled. They both hauled Cassian between them, causing him to groan at the disruption to his drunken nap.
“I’ll winnow him to the River House,” Rhys said. “He isn’t supposed to go to the House of Wind tonight.” Right.
“Fine.” Azriel carefully moved out from under Cassian’s arm, allowing Rhysand to shoulder him on his own.
“You deserve it, you know.” Rhys’ words stopped Azriel from backing away from his two brothers.
“What?” He was fairly sure he knew what Rhysand was getting at. He deserved to be alone, to spend the remainder of his days as nothing more than a tool for the Night Court to wield against their enemies. He would never be blessed with a mate, or marry any female for that matter, and he’d never have children of his own. The only females he would bed would be the kind he paid for at the pleasure house or the kind that wanted a quick fuck in the back alley. The only children he would hold would be those born into the Inner Circle.
Perhaps he should have just acquiesced to the females that came onto him at the tavern tonight. Hel, he probably could have fucked both of them, whether separately or at the same time; it wouldn’t have been the first time. He shuddered at that thought, however, because it was so…unappealing to him now.
“You deserve to have love, Azriel.” His eyes flew up to meet Rhysand’s intense violet gaze. “To give it to another, and to receive it. To marry, have children, if that’s what you want. To be…happy, Azriel.
“And if Gwyn is the one that makes you happy…then you should tell her so. You should go for it, Az.”