goddess-in-heaven-and-hell

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

Reginald who? (ER) - A Gwynriel One-Shot for Gwynrielweeks2024

thread: Gwyn finds a way for Azriel to let go of his gentle bedside manner by comparing him to her favorite male book character – slightly drunk Azriel cannot let that slide and a challenge ensures.

Post for the NSFW day ;) @gwynrielweeksofficial

word count: 5.1k

warnings: swearing, crude language, oral (f receiving), cum play, anal play, p in v sex

Reginald growled with pleasure as he beheld the stunning beauty that was Jasmine. He itched to explore every inch of her, his hands already reaching out to skim over her abdomen and her breasts.

After what felt like three hundred years, the book finally got to the good part. Gwyn giggled to herself, sinking deeper into the cushions and preparing for what was about to come. Or rather, who was about to come.

He laid her down with reverence, observing how her chest heaved with excitement. There was only one place he wanted to be right now, and that was between her supple thighs.

Gwyn read on with wide eyes, wishing for Azriel to be near with each line passing. The male main character was so smooth, so absolutely devoted to his Jasmine it was swoon worthy. And the priestess would lie if she said his words and actions didn’t have another effect on her. She shifted in her seat, trying to get some of the pressure off as she continued devouring page after page. If this author did one thing right, it was her attention to detail.

Reginald wasn’t done with her just yet, bending his head another time to gently lap at her, cleaning her arousal with his tongue and moaning like he tasted liquid ambrosia.

Her daydream was rudely and suddenly interrupted by a loud bang, and Gwyn’s well-deserved one-on-one time with Reginald came to a stuttering end.

She jumped out of bed, more than ready to fight or run, whatever seemed like the smartest thing to do, but as she was halfway across the room, the banging was accompanied by shouting – and with a breathy laugh, Gwyn relaxed.

“Ehhhhh”, that seemed to be Cassian’s rough voice echoing off the hall, “Ladies, we’re hoooooome!”

Another bang sounded suspiciously like the vase next to the staircase shattered into a million pieces, followed by colorful swearing. This time from another voice. Were they drunk?

“Really subtle, Cass. I think they heard us anyways.”, Azriel deadpanned. He sounded pretty normal, enunciating his words carefully. Maybe a bit too carefully.

Cassian laughed, a booming sound that might have woken up the priestesses in the library too. “True. And if they went to Rita’s with US, like we ASKED them to, they could be in on the FUN now.”

He then began singing.

Yes, definitely drunk.

Honestly, it wasn’t completely off tune and had a kind of charm to it. Azriel’s laughter told another story though, and Gwyn could only guess Cassian’s performance got enhanced through some dance moves.

“Boys!”

And that would be Nesta. Gwyn snickered to herself, letting her book come to rest on the bed again before finding the bathroom. Let Nesta deal with them. When the boys did something stupid, Gwyn would usually cave as soon as they gave her the puppy eyes. That strategy was lost with her best friend, though, and as Gwyn closed the bathroom door, she could already make out Nesta ripping into them.

The priestess the proceeded to complete her evening routine, using the toilet, washing her face, teeth and applying a generous amount of moisturizer. Training every morning in the crisp, cold autumn air left her skin dry as a desert, so she took extra care of it at night. Her river nymph heritage didn’t help the situation either as it demanded constant maintenance.

Once she was all done, skin gleaming with product, she returned to the bedroom.

“So that’s what you get up to when I’m not at home to supervise.”

Sprawled on her bed, with a shit-eating grin plastered to his face, was her beloved. Only that he was not so beloved anymore as he skimmed through her book and snickered to himself.

“Azriel!”, she gasped, lunging forward in order to snatch the book away from him. But the bastard was quicker, sitting up and putting the bed between them. His eyes never strayed from the lines as he read and read.

“What kind of name is Reginald? And how many pages can this person fill with just giving head?”, he murmured, even his shadows peeking over his shoulder to get a good look.

Gwyn’s cheeks warmed in embarrassment at his crass words. Why were romance novels completely acceptable when you read them alone, yet as soon as another person asked you about it they became a criminal offence?

She rounded the bed, trying again to grab the book, but he simply lifted it over his head. The priestess was seething.

“Azriel Shadowsinger, you give me back my book this instant!”, with her hands put on her hips, she craned her neck to look up at him, trying her best to be intimidating. ‘Looking down her nose at someone’ just like the main character of the last book she read, however that was possible. But she gave it her best shot nonetheless.

Azriel cupped her cheek with his unoccupied hand, his face now relaxed. “Gwyneth, stop it. You are too cute.”

She wanted to wipe that indulgent smile off his face desperately.

So, with her best acting, she made her eyes focus on the candle behind Az, gasping in horror and pointing. It might not have worked on him most days but his slightly delayed reaction spoke volumes about how much he really had to drink. He whipped around to the invisible threat, and as soon as his hand was within reach, Gwyn snagged the book with a triumphant laugh.

She quickly leaped away from him, pressing the book against her chest protectively.

Azriel just chuckled to himself. “Please don’t tell Cassian about that. Or anyone, really.” His eyes found hers through the dim light, slowly trailing over her face, hair and exposed legs. “You got me, Berdara.”

With only a few measured steps, he stood before her. Gwyn tightened her grip on the book just in case, but Azriel seemed to have lost interest in that. Instead, his fingers gently traced her jawline and lips.

“I’ve missed you.”, he murmured, his other hand coming to squeeze her waist. Gwyn’s breath hitched as she beheld the hunger in his gaze, the slow smile he showed her. He looked so handsome tonight with his midnight black tunic that he rolled up at the sleeves, putting his tattoos on show.

Gwyn should have been jealous that the whole of Velaris got to see him like this tonight. That he likely had to turn down a lot of invitations to peoples’ beds. But the way he looked at her made her think he didn’t care about that at all. Like he only really needed on female by his side.

“I’m sorry I didn’t go out with you.”, she said softly, swallowing down the guilt at not yet being able to cope with the masses of people a night club usually held, “But I take it you had a good time nonetheless?”

Azriel snorted, his hand now slowly exploring her neck and collarbones. “It was good, yes. You’d have enjoyed the music, I think. But it got quite crammed towards the end.”

He placed a soft kiss to her neck, pulling her even closer so she had to let go of the book and throw it on the armchair. Azriel didn’t really seem to care for their conversation right now, his lips not deviating from their mission to make Gwyn squirm.

She was already so riled up from that damned book, it didn’t take long for Azriel’s ministrations to elicit a soft moan. The Shadowsinger soaked up the noise, letting his lips finally find hers. The kiss was gentle, yet it promised something more. Gwyn could taste the bourbon on his tongue as it caressed hers and she wrapped her arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

Azriel’s muscular frame began to crowd her, forcing her to walk back a few steps, until her back met the wall. His kiss changed as soon as he had her caged in, completely at his mercy. It got more demanding, deeper, his hands now both running up and down her sides and disheveling her pajamas until he found a piece of bare skin he could claim for himself.

This was different than before. Usually Azriel was slower, more gentle as they made love, and Gwyn had argued with herself for some time now how to best ask him to… well, just fuck her. Because Cauldron boil her, that’s what she wanted.

And apparently, that’s what she was getting tonight. She could feel herself getting wet for him as he pressed his own arousal to her hip, showing her exactly what this situation did to him too.

“Az”, she whispered in a plea as he let go of her mouth, instead pushing up her top and bending down to welcome every inch of skin revealed with open-mouthed kisses. She’d never get used to it, being naked in front of him and feeling his lips on usually hidden areas. It made her spine tingle with excitement.

“Mh?”, he looked up for a second, his eyes wild with barely reigned-in arousal. “Sorry, should I slow down?”

Gwyn let out a stuttering breath, her hands finding his inky black hair to run through. “No, this is perfect. This is what I want.” A little pull on his roots drove the point home, hopefully.

The Shadowsinger growled – actually growled – and continued his assault on her stomach and waist, squeezing her tighter. She’d never seen him so lost in the moment, not constantly fighting for control over himself. And it made her own heart beat faster in her chest at the thrill of experiencing this side of him tonight.

Azriel huffed out a frustrated breath though at his awkward position. “Change of scenery.”

He grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her up the armory instead in one quick movement, his face now level with her neck. “Better.”

Was it normal to be excited about how easily he did that, how simple it must be for him to bend her to his will?

It didn’t take long for her top to be discarded on the floor after that, her own hands helping just as much as his shadows, allowing Azriel’s hands and mouth to hone in all their attention on her breasts. He kissed, suckled and licked every bit of her, paying special tribute to her nipples and the underside of her chest. Gwyn was reduced to a moaning mess, withering beneath the heat of his mouth and trying to press her center against his stomach.

“Don’t be so fucking impatient.”, he chuckled, pinning her hips to a frustrating stop, “Jasmine took everything in stride. Not once did I read about her trying to take control.”

Gwyn glowered at him. “That’s because Reginald actually saw to her needs the minute they arose.”

The Shadowsinger stilled at her words, slowly looking up at her. “Are you saying I don’t see to your needs, priestess?”

“I’m saying that you shouldn’t assume you know everything about me and my body and what I need.” The moment the words left her, she found herself regretting them. Because really, it was unfair. Azriel did know her body like his own, and did bring her the most mind-shattering orgasms. But a little voice inside her urged her on, hoping to rile him enough to completely relinquish his gentle manners. Plus, it was fun. “Because you clearly don’t.”

Azriel smiled at her accusation in a way that did absolutely nothing to calm her down. In fact, it promised retribution.

“I don’t?”

Gwyn tried to summon some bravado. “You don’t. You’re okay, you know the basics, sure. One would hope you do after 500 years of living.”

Azriel’s eyebrows rose with every lie uttered, a manic gleam in his eyes. Oh, she was going to be in so much trouble. Her center throbbed with the certainty of that. Mother, she wanted him so badly.

But her Shadowsinger stepped back and made to grab her discarded book, leaving Gwyn shivering on the armory and covering her breasts with her arms. “How about a challenge, then?”

Gwyn stared at him with doe eyes, unsure where he’d take this.

“Looks like dear Reginald managed to make her cum”, he paused, skimming the pages again, “twice with his mouth, and once more on his cock. I’d say he knows how to please her, wouldn’t you?”

Gwyn nodded, taking in the force of nature that was Azriel. He exuded confidence as he stood there in the center of the room, his eyes drilling into hers like he might die if he can’t look at her.

“So all I need to do for you to take your uncalled for and plainly false words back is”, he stepped towards her again, his mouth whispering the challenge – the promise it held – into her ear, “prove I’m better.”

Gwyn was unwell. And it clearly showed, because Azriel already held himself like he’d won. Like he’d made her cum with just his words alone. But she also knew on thing: it wasn’t easy for her to finish. Especially not with just penetration.

“I accept the challenge. And I look forward to proving you wrong.”, she whispered back.

Azriel’s hands rose to grab hers, gently pulling them away from her chest and making them meet at the small of her back where he held them hostage. “I want to add two conditions to this. First, you can’t hold yourself back. When you feel like you need to cum, you will cum. If my shadows detect you didn’t adhere to this rule, I’ll make you pay.”

Gwyn swallowed, her mouth dry with need. She’d never heard him talk like this. But she nodded to accept his first condition. Never would she deprive herself of an orgasm just to spite him. Especially right now.

“Secondly, you will not touch me unless I explicitly allow it. I’ll need to concentrate, and I can’t very well do that with your little hand wrapped around my cock.”, Azriel gave her a stern look that had her melting and nodding her head in acceptance again.

“You can’t use your Shadows either.”, the priestess was proud she found the clarity of mind to demand this little ad-on, “Reginald didn’t have them. Only his very own skill.”

Azriel puffed out his chest. “Of course not. I’ll win this fair and square.”

Silence expanded between them and the dark room as their stared at each other in defiance. And a whole lot of infatuation. Because there was never a moment Gwyn felt more desire towards this male.

“It’s on?”, Azriel asked, looking ready to pounce.

“It’s on.”, she replied.

The word barely left her mouth before his own claimed it with a roughness that took Gwyn’s breath away. He pressed her back to the wall, spreading her legs even further to accommodate his hips and wings.  

Something told her she was about to experience what it was like to be at the mercy of an unleashed Shadowsinger. And that something was his hand, finding her throat in a grip firm enough for her to moan out her approval.

“Still”, he ground out. The space between them widened again as he stepped back to pull her shorts off her body.

When they were discarded, he took his sweet-ass time to run his eyes over her nude form. Gwyn tired her best to adhere to his command of staying put, but having the undivided attention of Azriel on her made that quite hard. Especially when his gaze snagged on her exposed center and lingered. Like he planned all the things he was about to do to her to the smallest detail.

His own hands travelled up his body and began unbuttoning his tunic, revealing inch after inch of first tattooed, then bronze skin. Gwyn strained, her whole body on overdrive. She wanted nothing more than to lunge forward, feel all of him pressed against her. But she also wanted to win.

Azriel carelessly discarded his tunic, his mirthful eyes telling her he knew exactly what his little strip show did to her. “Are you wet for me already, love?”

Hearing the low timbre of his voice felt like almost like touch in itself. Gwyn arched her back slightly. “Yes.”

“Good.”, he sank to his knees before her, his head now perfectly in line with her throbbing center, “because I’m fucking starving for you.”

Gwyn gasped as she felt the first lick of his tongue against her. Her eyes closed against her will in nothing but self-preservation. Seeing him lick her would be the death of her, she knew. And she was about to relish in his attention for as long as possible.

Azriel knew he was good with his tongue and it showed. It danced along her slit with perfect pressure, honing in on her clit and circling the tiny bud of nerves in a maddening rhythm.

“Fuck”, he growled out, pressing a harsh kiss to her opening, “I’m addicted to this. I thought about it the whole night, about you underneath me.” 

The priestess gasped and moaned as his tongue once again thought of better things to do than drive her crazy with his words. She liked the idea of Azriel pining for her, his thoughts thoroughly occupied so none other could take them up. Feelings of power and love flooded her veins and joined the pleasure he was already giving her.

Gwyn was wet beyond measure now, her juices coating her inner thighs and running down on the armory. She was certainly losing the challenge abysmally if he continued like that, but was it really losing if it made her feel like this?

Azriel’s fingers moved to join his tongue, rubbing up and down her wetness to then plunge into her. Gwyn moaned at the feel of them, the roughness of his scars providing ample friction as he pumped them in and out of her while his tongue remained firmly on her clit.

Despite her best efforts to draw this out, she felt her orgasm build ferociously.

“Watch.”, Azriel ground out so close against her still that she felt the warmth of his breath, “watch yourself cum on my tongue.”

And Gwyn did. With her eyes trained on his face, she watched as he doubled his efforts. And the sight of this powerful, gorgeous male before her, that was so thoroughly hers he was engrained into her very heart, made her shatter.

The priestess came with a shout and a plethora of flexed muscles. Azriel did his best to draw it out, continuing his fingering and licking at a more relaxed pace until Gwyn collapsed in on herself.

When she regained her senses, her eyes fell on the Shadowsinger now standing at full height again. He leaned forward, his arms propped up on either side of her thighs, a smug smile on his wet face. “Why don’t you count for us, sweetness? We can’t lose sight of the challenge now, can we?”

Gwyn nodded, her lust dampened to a manageable level again. She conceded this point way too quickly, even though it was worth it. “One.”

She silently made a pact with herself. The male needed to work for it, otherwise his ego might expand to the heavens. In fact, Azriel already looked about ready to burst with arrogance.

He stepped forward to give her a lingering kiss, his tongue caressing hers and sharing her essence with her. Gwyn itched to touch him, if only his shoulders or chest or hair or anything. But he didn’t allow it yet, and begging was so beneath her.

Azriel scooped her up carefully, walking towards the bed and laying her down on the covers. But instead of widening her thighs, her grabbed hold of her ankles and lifted them in the air, leaving her center and ass in full view again.

“Hold that for me, love.”, he said as he knelt on the bed as well. Gwyn grabbed the inside of her knees and pulled them towards her chest, mentally preparing to not come within five minutes.

“Like that. Good girl.”, he murmured almost absentmindedly, focusing on her center yet again while Gwyn’s resolve took it’s first hit. Why was he so talkative all of a sudden and why did she want to cum just to hear him call her ‘good’ again?

A kiss to her thigh quickly shut down her inner monologue. By the third kiss, her mind was putty again. The fifth landed just an inch short of where she wanted it. Then, the bastard repeated the teasing process on the other side once more. Her breathing quickened again.

“Do you know what tastes even better than your arousal?”, he asked, suspended right above her clit. His lips grazed it with every word, and Gwyn jumped in anticipation. She didn’t even register him asking a question until he pinched her butt impatiently.

“No, I don’t.”, she breathed out. She couldn’t think even if she wanted to.

“Guess.”

That bloody bastard.

“Cupcakes?”, she tried weakly. It was simply the only thing she could come up with.

Gwyn felt his laugh hit her center, but nothing else followed. “No, that’s not it. In fact, cupcakes are further down the list. Guess again.”

“Azriel, please.”

Apparently, she was not above begging. And it paid off. His finger began circling her clit tightly, hitting it with just the lowest of pressures but almost continually. A slow kind of torture as he still waited for her to take another guess.

“I don’t know. Ice cream.”, the priestess panted, absolutely over this game.

“Wrong again.”, Azriel said in a conversational tone, almost like he wasn’t face to face with her dripping pussy and keeping her clit hostage underneath his finger. “But I realize now you’re at a disadvantage. I don’t think you’ve ever tasted it before.”

And with that, two of his fingers sank deeply into her with the most delicious friction and a borderline embarrassing squelch of wetness. He crawled up her body then and held out his fingers to her lips.

Gwyn stared at him wide-eyed, very much unsure of what to do. She read about this once, and honestly thought it too kinky to be real. But as she took in her Shadowsinger who watched her with the expression of a man possessed, she realized it wasn’t weird at all. At least not if it pleased him.

Tentatively, still waiting for him to stop her if that wasn’t what he meant, she raised her head and took his fingers in-between her lips. He didn’t stop her. If it was possible, his eyes turned even more mad as they darted between her eyes and mouth. “That’s it, love.”

Gwyn closed her lips around his fingers and began to suck lightly while drawing back. A tangy-sweet taste filled her mouth and she didn’t know who released a more strained moan between them. Her tongue darted out to tease the slit his fingers formed, lapping up even more of herself and Azriel ground his erection against her in a movement that seemed almost involuntary.

She honestly didn’t care for the taste, but it was better than she anticipated and seemed to drive him out of his mind. So, she took the opportunity. A distracted Azriel was a sloppy Azriel.

The priestess barely contained her smirk as she went to town on his fingers, moving up and down like she would on his cock and using her tongue to gently caress the ridges of his skin. Azriel didn’t stop her. In fact, he looked like he was put under a spell, only his hips moving against her center and finally giving her a bit more friction.

Suddenly, Az yanked his fingers back, narrowing his eyes at her. She could feel his reprimand coming, but beat him to it. “Don’t you dare. You allowed it. If not to say ‘demanded’.”

He stared at her a while longer, before conceding the point. “Fine. But then I’m not to blame for this.”

Gwyn was about to ask what ‘this’ meant, but Azriel slid down her body again, disappearing from view behind her legs. Her lower lips were spread, her overstimulated and puffy center back in view, and Azriel dove right in.

This time, nothing about his movements felt calculated. He simply lapped up every ounce of liquid that dripped out of her, wanting to be in multiple spots at once. Azriel moaned in abandon, almost as wildly as Gwyn herself, plunging his tongue into her and drinking directly from the source. His nose and stubble grazed her simultaneously as he licked her walls like he owned them.

“Azriel”, the priestess moaned out his name, fighting hard to not move her hips in time with his licks. She felt like she was floating on pleasure.

The Shadowsinger let up from her entrance, his fingers taking up a slow and torturous caress up and down her slit. Gwyn was about to wonder why he didn’t use his tongue anymore when she felt it again – lower.

Every thought of shame or panic left her though, as his tongue circled her puckered hole tentatively first, then with more rigor when she didn’t object.

They had talked about this before at some point as the topic came up in one of her novels as well. And she expressed her general interest in it, not really sure how it would feel. She’d have asked him to do this earlier if she’d known.

Her muscles twitched with all their might. The pleasure he wrung from her clit was somehow amplified by the delicate skin around her bottom and Azriel’s mouth licking and kissing around it, focusing on the thin piece of skin that separated her pussy from it once in a while.

If the feeling of it didn’t drive her insane enough, the fact that Azriel seemed to take so much pleasure in it too took her over the edge. He never even raised his head for air, never stilled his fingers and reacted to every twitch of her, adjusting his ministrations accordingly.

He played her like his favorite instrument, and she ate her previous words with each slide of his fingers and tongue. The male knew what he was doing, and she was so fucking lucky.

After a few minutes of this blissful torture, she couldn’t hold back anymore and came again with an intense wave of release. Goosebumps littered her skin and she shouted Azriel’s name into the abyss in testament of his devotion.

She let her legs fall open to each side, not caring for her compromising position as she tried to catch her breath. And her sanity.

Azriel perched between her legs, gently caressing her calves as he grinned at her.

“Well done, love. How many?”

Gwyn released a shaky breath. “Two and a half.”

His grin widened ever more. “And a half, huh?”

The priestess nodded. Usually, they called it a day after one or both of them came twice. She didn’t even know if it was possible for him to drag another orgasm out of her. But as Gwyn looked at Azriel again, at how he made to unlace his trousers and setting himself free, she had the feeling she’d give him another half a point for simply seeing him in all his naked glory. Or maybe a thousand.

She scootched higher up the bed, boldly watching him strip completely. The Shadowsinger finally discarded his trousers, shoes and underwear, and Gwyn had to fight to not let her own hand slip between her legs at the sight. How was it possible she was already aroused again?

“Since you were so good this whole time, I’ll let you decide how I take you.”, Azriel said in a low voice, his hand coming up to his cock and pumping languidly. She itched to crawl forward and lick off the beads of precum that glistened on the tip.

“Can I ride you?”, she breathed, already sitting up without waiting for an answer.

The Shadowsinger chuckled at her eagerness, but his eyes betrayed his nonchalant façade. He was quick to take up her previous place on the bed, dragging her on top of him instantly and with so much force she nearly fell on his face.  

Gwyn wasted absolutely no time. She slid onto him like he was molded just for her, engulfing him in her wetness until he was sheathed completely. Both moaned at the feeling of finally being united like this, and the priestess rocked back and forth just slightly to get used to him again.

Azriel watched her from below, his hands resting on her hips. His own breathing sounded a bit labored too, Gwyn thought with satisfaction, and he held her still with straining muscles.

“Cauldron, Gwyn.”, he ground out, his head falling back against the pillow in surrender. Or what Gwyn interpreted as such. Because just a few seconds after-

“Oh, Gods!”, Gwyn gasped as he drove himself up and into her, leveraging himself against the bed and taking control from her entirely. He set a punishing pace, thrusting into her again and again with no resistance. The priestess fell onto his chest from the force of him, moaning with abandon.

He felt so good inside of her, so perfect, hitting all the right spots.

Azriel gazed up at her, his features set in barely restrained ferocity. He looked so beautiful, sweating and panting, his ruffled hair sticking to his forehead, neck and chest flexed.

Gwyn relished in the feel of him, moving in tandem with his thrusts to force him even deeper.

“Fuck, I’m close.”, the Shadowsinger growled.

But Gwyn wasn’t quite there yet. “I need more.”

Azriel’s sharp gaze focused on her, and he immediately relinquished his thrusting to let her take over again. Which was just what she needed. With a heavy, unrestrained moan, Gwyn began to ride him at a slower pace, angling her hips so that her clit brushed against his pelvis every time.

And gods, did that feel good.

Her orgasm built again, different this time with the additional weight of his length inside of her. And judging by Azriel’s face, he was with her.

With a shout that surely informed the rest of the house what they were up to, Azriel raised himself up, flinging his arms around Gwyn and came hard. The priestess was quick to follow, pressing him closer against her. Her walls fluttered around him, making sure he spilled every drop of himself.

Both panted, still cradled in each other’s arms until their breathing returned to normal.

Azriel pulled back first, finding her eyes as usual. “All good?”

“Perfect.”, she sighed, pressing an innocent kiss to his lips.

“What’s the score, Berdara?”, he asked, trying to summon some bravado as he prepared to receive a stellar review.

Gwyn released a laugh. “I’ve lost count.”

“So, am I officially a better lover than Reginald?”, Azriel brushed his nose against her cheek before nuzzling into her neck in a playful manner.

Gwyn smiled to herself, finally free in caressing his neck and shoulders to her heart’s content. Which, she decided, she was going to do for the foreseeable future.

“Reginald who?”

#gwyneth berdara #gwynriel #pro gwynriel #gwyn x azriel #azriel x gwyn #gwynrielweeks2024 #azriel #acotar

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

The F-Word (BR) - A Gwynriel One-Shot for Gwynrielweeks2024

@gwynrielweeksofficial My first of two contributions to this years Gwynriel weeks, yay!

Thread: After Azriel accidentially hurt Gwyn in training, his apparent lack of care makes her question the true depth of their friendship.

word count: 4.2k

warnings: faint swearing, miscommunication

“I will kill him.”

Healing salve was applied generously to Gwyn’s throbbing wrist. The overwhelming smell of peppermint and oak bark put her frayed nerves at ease, and she was finally able to relax into the soft cushions despite the flash of pain that racked up her arm and into her shoulder.

“I will rip out every hair on his head one by one.”

A bandage snaked its way around her wrist, the gentle but firm hand guiding it nearly shaking with anger.

“I will plunge his oh-so-dangerous knife in his oh-so-dangerous head and see if he’ll still have enough bravado to hurt you then.” Nesta continued to wrap the bandage around and around Gwyn’s wrist and secured it with a pin as she continued to mutter unintelligible curses with venom in her voice. Like an over-protective ghoul squatting in the attic.

The priestess snorted, testing the stability of the wrap by flicking her arm back and forth cautiously. “You know he didn’t do it on purpose. I don’t think he even noticed what happened.”

Nesta levelled a stare at her that would have sent lesser females running. “And why would that be? What could possibly have happened for Azriel to not notice he sprained your wrist during training?”

Gwyn averted her gaze, lest Nesta see the faint smile that stole itself on her lips. “Maybe because I pretended it didn’t happen?”

The female kneeling before her rolled her eyes dramatically and got up to discard the medical items.

“It was my fault anyways”, Gwyn stated quickly, trying to calm down her best friend, “I didn’t warm up properly. No wonder my wrist couldn’t handle his weight without preparation.”

What a white lie that was…

Nesta scoffed, clearly not in the least convinced of Azriel’s innocence. “He is your instructor. He should know better. Especially when its just the two of you. The bat doesn’t have any reason to not dedicate every ounce of his attention to you when you train in the evenings.”

It was true that Azriel technically just had one trainee during their nightly sessions. The extra attention he paid her was only one of the many perks. But also the reason for her downfall.

“Let it go, Nes. It’s no big deal. Give it five days and it’ll be as good as new.”, Gwyn murmured, absentmindedly testing the bandage. Thankfully, Az had only rendered her non-dominant hand useless. Maybe he didn’t even have to know and she could ask Cassian to focus on leg training tomorrow morning-

“Five days where you can’t lift a shield, let alone weights. Not to mention having to slow down your library work.”, Nesta retorted seriously while observing Gwyn with a hawk’s eye.

Gwyn sighed, letting her head fall back on the couch. There was no denying it, was there? It went against every fiber of her being, but she needed to tell Azriel and Cassian that she sustained an injury during training.

Her ego will have to take the hit.

It wasn’t that injuring herself was so difficult for her to handle, it was more so how it happened that brought a wave of heat to her cheeks.

Because she did in fact warm up properly. Mother, the incident happened during the last ten minutes of training, every muscle – wrist included – had been ready for combat.

So how was she supposed to tell everyone that she was too busy losing herself in Azriel’s eyes to pay attention?

“I’ll tell Cassian tonight and he’ll relay it to Az.”, Nesta decided, clearly taking Gwyn’s lack of argument for permission.

The priestess nodded, heaving herself out of the comfy cushion and bidding Nesta goodbye.

As she lay in her dorm room a few hours later, cradling her injured wrist close to her chest, she debated whether or not skipping tomorrow’s training would be worth the trouble.

Nesta didn’t wait for Cassian to come home.

No, as soon as she heard the door down the hall clicking shut gently, she was out of her chair and on her way to kick some Illyrian ass. Even if that ass had more than a few inches on her.

“Az, may I come in?”, she shouted through the door while simultaneously knocking. The Shadowsinger probably sensed her agitation and opened after a few heartbeats, still in his leathers and eying her with a wary gaze.

“Nesta.”, he greeted her, stepping aside to let her in when noticing her expression. The male was smart enough to sense when her anger was directed at him.

She stormed into his room, turning around to a confused looking Azriel.

“Care to take a guess why I’m here?”, Nesta asked, her voice dangerously low.

Azriel had the decency to look mildly concerned. After thinking it through, he concluded to not have done anything wrong and wordlessly shook his head in her direction.

“Something to do with Gwyn in training?”, she prompted, angling her head.

Azriel crossed his hands before his chest, leaning back against the door. “With Berdara? Do you mean tonight or another day?”

“Tonight.”, Nesta replied, “During hand-to-hand-combat.”

She could have sworn a little blush crept into his cheeks, but it might have been there from the start. She was too agitated to care. “Nes, I seriously have no idea what you are talking about. Did I do something wrong?”

Nesta let out a long-suffering sigh. Honestly, didn’t his job entail paying attention to details? “You managed sprained her wrist during training. She came to me just an hour ago to have it set and bandaged.”

Silence ensured.

She expected her words to have some effect on him. After all, the two of them seemed quite close. But the pure horror that slowly took over every feature of his was another thing.

“I did what?”, Azriel whispered, body taunt with shock.

“She says it’ll probably heal in a few days. But she obviously shouldn’t do any training – morning or night – in the meantime. I wanted you to know that, just in case she shows up tomorrow pretending it didn’t happen.”, Nesta added, trying to calm him down again. She’d wanted him to grovel a bit, but now he seemed dangerously close to suffering an aneurism. “She’d rather have kept it a secret and suffer through her exercises than telling you. So I did.”

If it was possible, Azriel looked even more crestfallen at that. A low curse escaped him, and Nesta took that as her cue to leave.

As she approached the door, she paused to put a hand on his arm. “I didn’t tell you to make you feel bad.” Well, maybe a little bit. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. She’ll live. And you are both fools for how you acted.”

Azriel nodded, but it was so absent-minded that Nesta turned to leave him to his thoughts, bidding him goodnight quietly.

His reaction left her wondering, though. Had she been too harsh? If it got Gwyn a heartfelt apology and maybe some sweets to make it up to her, it might not have been too much. But the Mother knew Azriel was an overthinker. She only hoped that, whatever was going on between them for Gwyn not to admit to an injury would soon be mended.

She did it. She skipped training.

Throughout the whole day, Gwyn felt rotten to the core. She had never abandoned her responsibilities, at the very least not without explaining herself properly. Nesta had probably informed the two Illyrians by now, and the other priestesses had noticed the glaringly white bandage, but still – it felt so wrong to sit on all these weird feelings towards Azriel, to not talk to him as regularly as she used to.

It felt like abandoning him.

And only the Gods and Gwyn new how that made the already confusing and borderline frightening emotions she harbored towards him more complicated.

She realized it was wholly her fault. She should have admitted to the injury right away, blaming a loose stone on the ground, or an errand shadow or anything for her mess-up. But no. As soon as his arms had wrapped around hers from behind, as soon as she twisted her head to meet his gaze, she was lost. Utterly and hopelessly caught up in whatever daydream it was that took over her mind at that moment. And she didn’t have the capacity to free herself as he sent her tumbling down, painfully bending her wrist in the process.

She’d laughed it off, turning her back to him to stabilize and feel out the injury, all while joking that ‘at least he bested her once this entire session’. When she faced him again, he’d looked away too quickly for his eyes to linger on her form and suggested a water break.

Gwyn couldn’t pinpoint exactly when her feelings for him had taken such a turn. When their nightly talks or training sessions became a little less accidental, but rather more and more anticipated. She only knew that one morning, when her alarm allowed her a few more minutes to slumber in bed, her mind had drifted to him.

And it continued to do so until now.

She sincerely hoped she would get a grip on herself, or she’d completely ruin their friendship.

If Azriel didn’t manage to do it first.

Days after the accident, Gwyn’s wrist still too sore for training, the Shadowsinger remained as silent as death. No note, no impromptu lunch visits. Gwyn even trekked up the stairs one night, hoping to catch him waiting for her on the roof of the house. But it was Gwyn who ended up waiting for hours in the cold, without any luck. Not even Nesta had a message to relay on his behalf when they met for their weekly reading night.

It left a sour feeling in her stomach. Friends were supposed to take equal interest in each other. And Nesta assured her she informed Az of her injury. What was keeping him back, then?

Another long day of work passed and Gwyn returned from evening service, walking into the dimly lit hall that contained some of the priestess’s dormitories.

And stopping dead in her tracks when she beheld the massive bouquet of flowers that adorned her doorstep.

Peonies and tulips, lilac and lavender in the most beautiful hues of white and purple made the whole hall smell like spring. With measured steps, Gwyn crouched down to retrieve the card attached to the crown of the bouquet. The handwriting itself made her heart flutter with excitement.

Dear Gwyn,

please accept this as the first of many apologies to come for by behavior in training and afterwards. I hope you are feeling better.

Your friend (?) Azriel

The priestess’s brows scrunched in confusion. She appreciated the gesture, but something in his message bothered her. She read it again, and again, gaze snagging on his signature. And just like that, with as small of a symbol as that question mark, Gwyn’s smile was whiped clean off her face, her heart plummeting into her stomach.

Her friend. The word in itself should have been enough to elicit a little happy dance. Because that was what Azriel was to her, and so much more. It was a first step, the first time she heard him reciprocating the feeling.

But the question mark put the virtual nail in the coffin of her affection.

He either thought so little of their friendship he thought it breaking at the slightest mishap, or, and Gwyn’s lungs fought for air at the thought, he didn’t really consider them friends.

And it made sense. She never heard him say it. They never let a few days pass without seeing each other, but it took him a whole week to ask for her? Mother, she didn’t even know if he came willingly to their nightly training, or if he was ordered to – keeping an eye on the unstable female he had to save and making sure she didn’t crumble under pressure.

On some nights, she had poured out her heart to him and he had listened, comforted her, just as she had on nights where his own façade revealed the hurt and shame he carried around.

It couldn’t have been a lie, could it?

Gwyn’s thoughts spiraled, feelings of being unworthy of his affection eagerly feeding on her uncertainty. Until she was sure: he only sent flowers because he accidentally hurt one of the frail and traumatized priestesses and felt bad about it. Clearly not because they were friends.

Gwyn picked up the flowers and, trying to steady her breathing, brought them into her room where they found a place on her nightstand. Unfocussed eyes remained on the flowers while she debated whether she should cry or fight that overgrown bat – it only took a second to decide.

The priestess stormed out of the library, Azriel’s handwritten card fighting for breath in her fist.

She mulled it over as she took the stairs to the house proper two at a time, how he could negate their relationship with one simple message. Had she been so mistaken in his kindness, his interest? Had he seen their time together as an obligation, rather than a blooming friendship?

It agitated and confused her to no end. And as she finally arrived in the training ring, eyes already pinpointing the swirl of shadows with Azriel in their midst, she was positively furious.

“Azriel!”, she shouted across the ring, eating up the space between them in no time. She pointed her finger at him in accusation, her other hand grinding his message for her to mush.

The Shadowsinger turned, his expression morphing from wary to concerned in a split second. “Gwyn? What’s wrong? Do you need a healer?”

He actually had the nerve to step towards her, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders as he ran his eyes over her form. Trying to detect whatever it was that made her upset.

“Don’t you touch me!”, she snapped, and his arms dropped to his side immediately. “You forfeited your right to that.”

Azriel gaped at her, but nodded nonetheless. Massive wings behind him folded together tightly as he braced himself for her.

If anything, his actions made Gwyn even more angry. She came to pick a fight, not for him to roll over. So, the priestess stepped into his personal space again and pushed at his chest until he stumbled backwards.

It was petty, and unfair, and nothing like her usual self. But seeing the little slither of hurt flashing on his face made it worth it. She pushed again, ignoring the stab of pain emanating from her wrist as it collided with mountains of muscle.

“You are a coward!” Push. “You don’t deserve my friendship!” Push.

If Gwyn’s late high priestess could have seen her now, she’d have washed her mouth out with soap to negate the curse words leaving it.

But she didn’t care. The pain flooding her heart at his apparent betrayal was too much to deal with on her own. It needed an outlet.

After enduring another minute of her assault, Azriel saw his opening. He caught both of Gwyn’s wrists in his hands, stopping her dead in her tracks, and cradled them to his chest.

“Gwyn.”, his voice turned pleading and soft, “please stop, you’ll hurt yourself.”

And as the tenor of his beautiful, stupid voice reached her ear, all fight evaporated. With heavy breathing, she returned his stare. Somehow, even in the depts of hurt, the only thought her head could muster was how she had missed him the past week.

“I’m sorry.”, he whispered, his thumbs stroking up and down her hostage-held hands, “I’m so sorry I didn’t notice it. You truly deserve better than that.”

Gwyn didn’t find words for him, frozen in time as she stood before him, her chest nearly touching his armor. She didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. But an apology sounded about right.

“I was so caught up in my own head that night.”, he continued softly, his voice trying to soothe her into tranquility, “But I realize it’s not an excuse. I should have checked on you after that fall. Gwyn, I’m so sorry I failed you. It will never happen again.”

Gwyn’s eyes hardened. She stepped away from him, forcing Azriel to release her.

“I don’t care you hurt me in training.”, her voice turned cold. “I don’t care if you didn’t check up on me. What I care about is this.”

She flung the crumpled piece of paper at his feet.

Azriel’s eyes widened for a split second before he picked the message off the dirty floor, trying to straighten out the paper. He stared at it for a long time. Enough for Gwyn’s anger to subside, until only resignation was left.

She knew he was about to apologize again. But he’d never understand where she was coming from. Mother, she’d confused herself with the onslaught of feelings the little piece of paper elicited. So she spared him the mental effort.

“You don’t think we’re friends, do you?”

The silence that ensured was deafening.

“I mean”, Gwyn started, her eyes focusing on a stone on the ground, “it’s completely fine if you don’t think so. After all, we’ve been seeing each other only for a few months, and I know you have a hard time making friends. But I thought-“

With all the courage she had left, Gwyn lifted her eyes to him again. If she wanted his honesty, she needed to give it in return. “I have seen you as my friend for the longest time now. You are the person I can rant to with all the stupid, miniscule facts I read about daily. I feel like I can tell you about my hopes and dreams and don’t be judged. You make me stronger, even challenge me to dream bigger.”

She breathed in deeply, trying her hardest to keep her emotions at bay. “And until tonight, I hoped the same would be true for you. Yet I can’t shake the feeling that you keep me company because you have to, not because you want to.”

There it was, all her thoughts and deepest fears spread out before him as cohesively as possible. Minus the crush of course, Gwyn could only take so much heartache in a day.

Azriel gaped at her, as unmoving as stone, his message stretched taunt between his fingers.

And even though his voice remained quiet, the hurt in it carried all the way to Gwyn to bury straight into her heart.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Now it was Gwyn’s turn to gape at him. With each second passing, Azriel looked more and more agitated, his eyes pinning her to the spot.

“What did I do for you to come to that conclusion?”, he began pacing before her, each and every one of his next words a punch in the gut, “Was it the time I poured my heart out to you with feelings not even my brothers are privy to? Or was it when we spent nearly a whole night in each other’s arms when I can’t remember the last time I hugged someone that wasn’t family? Maybe it was that particular day when I nearly threw a temper-tantrum because you couldn’t make it to a session and I needed to see you so badly?”

He stopped in his tracks, hazel eyes so open and vulnerable that Gwyn had to swallow. “Or was it the night when I literally sprained your wrist and didn’t notice because your eyes are so gods-damn blue that I got distracted?”

Not even trying to process that last admission, Gwyn remembered all the instances he talked about. She’d considered them accidental at the time. That he was so stressed from work he took it out on the next-best person. But it slowly dawned on her that Azriel wasn’t the type to just dump his emotions on the next-best.

“You put a question mark.”, she tried weekly, suddenly feeling very small before him, “On the message, I mean. And you waited to contact me for a whole week.”

Even in the dark, Gwyn could actually see the vein in his neck pulsing with anger. He held his emotions at bay as he answered tough, his voice taunt. “Nesta came to me the night you got injured. She informed me of what I did and voiced her concern that you’d likely show up in training, pretending nothing happened. And the only logical conclusion I drew from that was that you clearly don’t trust me. I must have done something for you to keep an injury that I caused a secret. So forgive me if I didn’t think you considered me a friend, that I thought you wanted nothing to do with me.”

Well, that actually made a whole lot of sense.

Blood rushed into her cheeks. How did she let her emotions get away with her like that?

“Oh Mother”, she mumbled, her hands fumbling her hair out of her face as she tried to come up with a way to salvage this. “I misunderstood.”

“Clearly.”, the Shadowsinger deadpanned, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He observed her for a moment, his own emotions seemingly calming down. “So why on earth would you think I spend time with you out of-what? Obligation?”

With a deep, heartfelt sigh, Gwyn let herself sink on the nearby rock. The adrenaline that had been running amok in her body had left her to fend for herself, apparently. Even if it got her into this situation.

“I honestly don’t know. I guess I didn’t think you’d actually like me as a person, or as someone you could consider close to you. The fact that you were the one to save me that night in Sangravah doesn’t help this feeling either.”, she chuckled humorlessly, wringing her hands together for support, “I tend to think people see nothing in me but my trauma. That I need to be catered for specially, handled with care. I never wanted that.”

Azriel slowly stepped before her, kneeling down right before her spot on the rock. “And when have I ever handled you with more care than necessary?”

He pointedly glanced at her bandaged wrist and Gwyn couldn’t help but laugh. The admission did something within her, lightening the heavy feeling in her chest. He has always been real with her, holding her accountable, giving her his honesty. “That’s true. I know you designed the obstacle courses last year especially to vex me.”

The sheepish grin Azriel showed her was enough to get her stomach to do a little flip. “Worked like a charm, too.”

The priestess had to bite her lip to keep from smiling too hard. She remembered how she’d taken personal affront to the difficulty of those obstacles, and how she spent every waking minute planning how to best them – and in turn wipe the smug look Azriel liked to sport at that time off his stupidly handsome face.

The lightheartedness of the situation vanished, though, as she remembered how she spoke to him a few minutes ago. She’d pushed him for Cauldron’s sake.

“Azriel, I’m so sorry for coming at you like that, for screaming at you. You didn’t deserve that.”, she admitted, searching his face for any sign of anger. But she only found sympathy.

“It’s okay. You overacted a little today, but I didn’t react at all when it mattered. I’d say we’re even.”, he reached out his hands for her to take, resting them palms up on her knees. She complied, loving the warmth of his skin and the attention he showered her with.

“I agree. Let’s never talk about this again?”

Azriel nodded once, before lowering his head to press a light kiss on both of her knuckles, one after the other. His gaze snagged on her still lightly bandaged wrist. Pulling her hand closer, he kissed it too, his lips lingering on the gauze until Gwyn could feel the heat of them right through her skin. Her heart fluttered so loudly at the gesture she was sure he must have heard it.

So she blurted out the next best thing she could think of. That she couldn’t stop thinking about since he’d said it, actually.

“My eyes are teal.”

Azriel just watched her, a slow smile spreading on his lips as he took her in. As if he had nothing but time, as if he didn’t feel this overwhelming urge to shoot up and run from this situation. The bastard surely enjoyed her squirming.

“I know. But you didn’t seem to pay enough attention to the way I acted around you – and I wanted to make sure you do, from now on.”, he pulled her up with him as he stood to his impressive height. She would be paying attention now, that much was clear.

“Friends?”, Gwyn asked, not releasing him just yet. Their fingers must have found a way to interlace autonomously in the past few seconds and she savored the feeling of them a little longer.

“Friends.”, the Shadowsinger replied. But his face betrayed his even voice. Gwyn couldn’t quite put a finger on what happened, what change between them.

She only had this nagging feeling that more than friendship shone from his face as he bid her goodnight.

And she that she was well and truly in love.

#gwynriel #pro gwynriel #gwyn and azriel #gwynrielweeks2024 #azriel x gwyn #gwyn x azriel #gwyneth berdara #acotar

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

Art by @mftfernandez. Comm by @freyjas-musings

Week 2 prompts are here! Once again, if you have any questions at all, please don't be shy to message any of the event accounts or leave a comment!

Day 8: Poetry

Gwyn and Azriel each have a way with words in their own right, as seen throughout this series and with each other. Do you think we’ll see them sprouting poetry to each other? Are there any poems that remind you of Gwynriel?

Day 9: Music

With both Azriel and Gwyn being wonderful singers, it’s far too easy to find musical connections between them. What scenes involving music do you envision for Gwynriel? Are there any lyrics or songs that scream Gwynriel to you?

Day 10: Theories

With 2 books and a novella left in the ACOTAR series, there are so many theories as to what the future holds, especially for these two. What are some of your favourite Gwynriel theories? How do you think that their relationship and characters could help contribute to the plot of the next books?

Day 11: Alternate Universe

In our hearts and minds, Gwynriel belong to each other in every universe! Whether that be a modern AU, a retelling, or even another fantasy series, their dynamic flawlessly blends in. What other universes do you like to imagine Gwyn and Azriel in? Gender swap AU? College AU ? The possibilities are endless!

Day 12: NSFW

It is undeniable that Gwyn and Az both deserve to have a healthy and romantic sex life, that is filled with consent and communication! How do you think Gwynriel get down and dirty in the bedroom? Are they exploring kinks? Maybe having their first time together?

Day 13: Secret Lovely Beauty

This term was used at the end of Azriel’s bonus chapter to describe the feeling in his chest at the image of Gwyn’s smile. How do you think this line holds significance? What images come to your own mind when you think of Gwynriel and this quote?

Day 14: Free Day

For the final day of Gwynriel weeks, you have free reign to imagine this wonderful couple together! If there was an idea that you had that didn’t fit the prompts, you are more than welcome to share it today!

#gwynriel #gwynrielweeks2024 #azriel x gwyn #gwyn x azriel #pro gwynriel #gwynriel weeks 2024 #iwillcrawloutofmyholeforthis #andialreadyhave10kwordsprepped

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

Screaming, crying, throwing up with joy

a moment of silence for Elriels who have just died

So,

Elriels say they had "four development books" between Azriel and Elain. They also say that Lucien and Elain had no interaction. So, does what SJM just said fit into the idea of "four development books"?

She herself is saying that she does it on purpose and that out of nowhere another character appears who is really the one who can offer well-being to the character and be their equal. If we take what the Elriels have been saying for years, THIS APPLIES, because SJM has just demolished in simple sentences the idea that Elain and Azriel are endgame. The character that "appears," as Sarah says, is Gwyn, something we've been saying for a while.

Regarding Lucien and Elain, it's clear... She herself has said that both have a path of healing to explore and that it's likely that they may feel "misfit" because they clearly have little interaction between them... But that's precisely the obstacle that SJM presents... Knowing that they are mates but still not feeling comfortable... And perhaps, when exploring that and with the option of breaking that bond, they begin to get to know each other and choose not to break it, free will.

That's what SJM's books are about.

#gwynriel #pro gwynriel

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

Do not come at me or even look in my direction with spoilers of cc3! I am so mad at whoever leaked the whole book and hope they get hit with a lawsuit left, right and center.

This was meant to be such a great experience, waiting for the book to come out, disecting quotes and theories, then screaming and crying together when we all read it. And now I feel like the whole reaction to the book is scrambled apart and you need to walk on eggshells on any platform!

I have (thankfully) not seen anything, but want to know so badly... I feel lowkey like an addict - everyday fighting to resist.

#cc3 #acotar

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

Hi! Have you thought uploading your gwynriel stories to AO3? 😊

Hi there! All my stories (and more, I think) are uploaded on AO3, titled 'Gwynriel one-shot collection' by Ladyofcloudedskies 🥰 i actually started uploading on there before discovering tumblr

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

Happy Solstice, Shadowsinger! (ER) - A Gwynriel One-Shot

A little fluffy fic that features Gwynriel's first official family outing for the winter solstice, written from multiple perspectives of the inner circle and their perception of the couple.

word count: 5.1k

warnings: crude language

Azriel always thought that waiting around for the right moment to strike suited him and his personality. Waiting and observing came natural to him. He found solace in the dark quiet, alone with his thoughts and Shadows.

Tonight, however, he wanted to crawl out of his skin in anticipation.

“Az, stop fidgeting.”, Nesta mumbled under her breath. He hadn’t even noticed he moved – so much for being the Spymaster of this court. His brother’s mate stood beside him in the bustling living room of the River House, a glass of sparkling champaign cradled in her hand. They had sought their refuge in the corner of the room, closest to the door. Just like it had been last year on this very occasion.

Now, however, he didn’t want to drown in self-pity due to his unrequired longing.

Now, he waited for his date to arrive.

“I’m sure she’ll be here soon, and I’m sure everything will be alright. She is ready for this.”, Nesta continued to whisper affirmations to him, which only caused his Shadows to swirl more excitedly around his shoulders and wings. Nesta just promised them the soon arrival of their favorite person after all.

Azriel had blurted out the question only last week, asking Gwyn to be his date for the winter solstice. Even though they had shared innocent touches, deep secrets and plenty of kisses with each other up to this point, Azriel was still nervous to be taking this next step. His family, however dearly he loved them, could be a lot. And Gwyn was used to solitude. If he could, he would protect her from every prying eye, every mean thought of the world.

His thinking was promptly interrupted by the new arrival to the sitting room which let out a high-pitched screech. “Awy!”

And that would be his little nephew, who for the life of him couldn’t pronounce the Shadowsinger’s name. Azriel’s heart melted just a little as the future High Lord of the Night Court stumbled in his direction on uneven footing, blabbering excitedly and waving his little hands. Always the obedient servant, he picked up Nyx and positioned him on his hip. Nesta too stepped closer to gush over the babe.

Nyx was at an age where everything was interesting, and everything needed to be touched and inspected. Azriel’s hair, nose and Shadows were no exception to the rule. The babe tried to catch a strand of black mist, while Azriel placed a kiss atop his head. Nyx had been only the second person to not be immediately afraid, or at least a little hesitant, around his Shadows. The first would hopefully arrive soon to spare his heart from giving out with excitement.

“That look suits you brother.”, Rhys came up behind them, leaning on the doorframe with all of his highlordly-charisma, eyes trained on his son, “Let’s hope your mysterious date for the night proves to be your forever partner.”

Azriel rolled his eyes at him, even though his insides squeezed together violently, in complete and utter agreement with his younger brother.

“If you didn’t spend so much time talking, little Nyx here might already have a sibling. Don’t you have a duty to your court, mylord?”, Nesta drawled from her spot next to him, eyebrows raised in challenge.

Rhys’s cunning stare fixed on Nesta. “Anything concerning future children will be on Feyre to decide. And until then, I’ll impart all my wisdom upon you, as is the duty of the brilliant.” He bowed mockingly in Nesta’s direction, causing her to snort.

“Sometime soon you have to share the secret on how to endure his lordships presence with me, Az.”, was all she commented, turning her back to Rhys and stealing Nyx out of Azriel’s hands.

Az smiled mildly, both at his sister-in-law and at his brother. They had called a truce when Nesta saved Feyre and the babe from certain death. That truce didn’t prevent them from bickering like an old couple though. Not that he would share that particular thought with them – he’d lose at least one of his balls in the process.

“By the way”, Nesta was already on her way to Cassian when she turned again, a smug smile on her lips, “I do know Azriel’s date for the night. So much for imparting wisdom.”

Rhys looked dumbstruck, mouth slightly agape as he watched Nesta prance over to the sofa, where Cassian and her now went about hogging little Nyx. He immediately seized up Azriel. “She knows?”

Azriel raised his hands in surrender. Gwyn had requested one thing at the start of their relationship, and that was privacy. Nesta knew, obviously, because she was like a sister to Gwyn. And if Nesta knew, chances were Cassian was on it too. Azriel wasn’t one to gossip about his lovers anyways, so the whole lot of the inner circle was completely unaware about who was coming to their festivities tonight.

“Nesta found out through another person, not me. I didn’t tell a soul.”, Azriel tried to calm his nosy brother down. “And you’ll see her within the hour anyways. It’s no big deal.”

Rhys threw him another hurtful stare, before nodding his head. “Why didn’t she arrive with you?”

“She had other obligations to fulfill beforehand, but she’ll try to cut them short.”, Azriel’s answer was as vague as he could get, otherwise the identity of his date would have been clear. Gwyn was at the dusk service in the city until 6.30pm and would join them as soon as she was done.

Rhys just nodded his understanding. “But do tell me one thing, brother.”, he placed his hand on Azriel’s shoulder, squeezing in his familiar manner, “Does she make you happy?”

Asking if Gwyn was making him happy was like asking if the sun warmed the earth, or if the moon shone at night. He was convinced he didn’t even know true happiness until that female came into his life.

“She does. More than I ever thought was possible.”, was his honest answer.

Rhys nodded again, his hand falling off Azriel’s shoulder. “Good. Then I can’t wait to welcome her into this family.”

***

The doorbell announced her arrival just half an hour after.

Azriel’s family, and what some members of it considered family too, was still gathered in the sitting room of the house. Mor had started drinking. Nesta had too – to cancel out Mor’s increasingly intoxicated rambling. Feyre, Mother bless her, tried to keep Cassian from inspecting, weighing, and shaking every present already piled under the tree. But what Cassian didn’t reach, Nyx covered for him.

Azriel quickly got up, hoping with all his might they didn’t hear the doorbell over their noise, and hurried to the front door.

“Happy Solstice, Shadowsinger!”

The last time she uttered these exact words to him, he thought she meant it as a farewell. As a ‘Well, nice talk, but don’t you have places to be?’. It startled him just slightly, how much change a year could bring. How, now, he didn’t quite know how to function without her presence.

“I’m glad you made it, Berdara. Come in.”

Gwyneth Berdara was a sight to behold. She was positively glowing, all the way from her snow speckled hair to her rosy cheeks to her frost-glazed coat. In her hand, she held a linen pouch of what looked like presents. But her eyes – Mother her eyes! – spoke of so much joy and light that he almost forgot his own nerves at the prospect of having to expose her to his family.

Azriel tried his hardest to step away from the door enough to let her in, but not enough to let people behind him get a glimpse of her. He might even have flared his wings a little just so they could bask in their private bubble for a few more seconds.

When Gwyn finally stood so close to him that he could feel the cold radiate off her, he leaned down to capture her lips with his for a moment. She tasted how she always did – like cherries and chocolate. And seeing her in this house felt like the final piece of the puzzle clicking into place. Like his heart mending over and glowing quietly in her presence.

“Happy Solstice to you too, love.”

***

Rhysand knew who Azriel’s secret date was the moment Nesta confessed that she knew too. After all, there weren’t many people who managed to befriend both his brother and sister-in-law. The fact that she’d managed to do that, and hold onto their affection like she did, must make Gwyneth Berdara a true saint. Or just incredibly unlucky.

He sensed her arrival a few seconds before Azriel jumped out of his chair like Mor had suggested a group hug. She had to breach the wards of his house, after all. And then he held his breath, observing his family and the merry fire of the hearth, until his brother formally introduced her to the guests. He waited a suspiciously long time for that to happen – so much, that he was certain Azriel had just snuck off with her and abandoned all plans of celebration.

But there she was.

Even though the priestess wasn’t a small female, Azriel still dwarfed her as he led her into the sitting room. Rhys suppressed his grin as he figured out exactly why their height difference was so apparent tonight. Azriel’s wings were flared, posture ramrod-straight, and his Shadows swirling around them both like a gigantic black cloak. He tried to commit this picture to memory, so he could tease the hell out of his older brother as soon as he got the chance.

“Everyone, this is Gwyn. Gwyn, this is, well –“, Azriel then went around the room, calling names and relations respectively. The priestess by his side seemed only a little intimidated by the sheer amount of people present, and flashed everyone a bright smile. Well, Feyre and Rhys (much to the former’s horror) got a curtsy.

Cassian barked out a loud laugh. “Stop that immediately Gwyn, or he’ll make you curtsey every time he enters the room.”

Rhys just raised his eyebrows, grinning first as Cassian, then at Gwyn. “I just might think about that. Happy Solstice, Gwyn, and welcome.”

Nesta took that as her cue to race over to the priestess and engulfing her in a hug. Then, one by one, every member of their family said their greetings. Azriel stood by her the whole time, as unmovable as a mountain, and smiled. Well, smiled seems like too little of a world. His brother beamed, his hand barely moving from the small of Gwyn’s back.

And that’s when Rhys knew.

***

Nesta felt like the proud mother of a child who had just recited a poem to their relatives without faltering. Like she might raise her glass any second and toast to the existence of Gwyn, who, in all fairness, would slide off her chair in shame. So Nesta suppressed the thought and instead reached for another roll.

Because her mind couldn’t really find a fault in that idea.

The dining room of the River House could have come straight out of a Winter Solstice commercial at this point, with garlands tastefully wrapped around the walls, candles burning and an abundance of food that no collective effort from the group could ever demolish. And, even though the picture-perfectness of it all still made her stomach churn a little bit, she found herself smiling at her favorite people – thankful to be here and not on the other side of the massive bay window.

Especially the fiercely loyal and wonderful redhead seated right next to her evoked that feeling of gratefulness, and pride. Every time she saw a flash of copper in the periphery of her vision, she was reminded again of Gwyn’s journey and her bravery. And of the fact that she found her first true friend in the priestess.

“And then – wait, what did he say again?”, Mor was already fumbling for words at the other end of the table – as well as another glass of wine – while telling some ridiculous story of a male asking her out. Another thing to give Gwyn credit for: listening seemingly interested to Mor’s stories and not wanting to bang her head straight into a wall. Rhy’s cousin was the personification of nausea. 

Cassian chimed in, drawling out the syllables while trying to mimic the bloke they made fun of. “He said: “Nah! Give me a chance girl. Spend a night with me and you’ll never want pus-“

“That’s quite enough brother, thank you.”, Rhys interrupted carefully before little Nyx learned a new word tonight.

Mor’s eyes glowed with mischief while continuing. “He was so full of himself! If he hadn’t been so drunk and stumbly, he’d have walked through the club with his crotch first.”

Beside her, Gwyn’s hand shot up to cover her mouth in scandal and amusement. Nesta leaned over, whispering, “Before you ask: Yes, they are always like this. Especially after a few bottles of wine.”

The priestess’s eyes sparkled as she answered with an equally low voice, “Then I have no idea why you don’t like them that much!”

Nesta snorted. Gwyn, despite her introverted tendencies, was a people person.

“Mor, I think we should turn to more peaceful topics. What will Gwyn think of us, talking about people’s bits at the dinner table.”, Feyre chimed in a soon as she saw an opening in conversation. If her sister knew just how likely it was that intimate bits came up at the table…

From her other side, Cassian flashed her a surprised smirk. Nesta still had issues filtering which thoughts made it through the bond and which were best kept secret. She couldn’t complain about the heavy, warm hand though, that now found its place on her thigh in silent, steady company.

“How was the solstice service, Gwyn?”, Cassian asked, leaning forward to catch Gwyn’s eye and giving her an encouraging smile.

The priestess quickly swallowed her food. “It was lovely. Very different from the way we usually do it in the library, but charming nonetheless. More music, actually, and less of the ceremonial business.”, she beamed, cheeks tinting pink just slightly. Her eyes sought Azriel’s as she spoke, then wandering courageously up and down the table.

“Do you sing yourself?”, Elain asked from where she sat right beside Feyre, still a little flour on her bodice from all her baking. Her sister initially looked a bit taken aback by the vibrant, beautiful female who had Azriel wrapped around her little finger, even if she was unaware of it herself. But Nesta saw her trying.

“I do. It’s my absolute favorite part about all services. Honestly, it’s the only thing getting me out of bed for the dawn worship some days.”, she replied, a chuckle in her voice which Elain mirrored. With her melodic voice, it wasn’t hard to believe that Gwyn didn’t just like to sing, but that she sang well.

“I visited a few times now. You can’t compare it to any religious worship we might have had across the border. It felt … enthralling.”, Nesta now chimed in, still unsure where Elain was taking this conversation.

But Gwyn seemed unaware. “Why don’t you come yourself and see if you like it? I’ll walk you there, the chapel is a little tricky to find. I recommend the dusk service though, if you value your sleep.”

Nesta felt more than she saw Rhys draw in a breath and Feyre flashing him a warning look. Azriel, too, stiffened on his chair. Her own eyes were bouncing back and forth between the two females, then staying on Elain.

They all felt some weird, unspoken business between the Shadowsinger and Elain last year. And were now waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The pause was over in a heartbeat though, as her sister smiled back at the priestess. “I would love to see it myself. Thank you for inviting me. Should I wear something specific?”

Gwyn didn’t miss a beat and immediately rattled off a list of appropriate outfits, jewelry and hair styles – all with explanations as to why they became fashionable with the priestesses and the symbolism behind them.

And just like that, the tension that seemed to have overpowered every person at the table – except Elain and Gwyn themselves – evaporated. Nesta caught Azriel’s gaze when the females fell into easy conversation, Gwyn now complimenting Elain on her baking, and they smiled at each other.

Their worry was absolutely misplaced, it seemed.

Dinner went on after that encounter, and Gwyn fit in so nicely with the family it was as if she had been a part of it for ages. But what was there not to love about the priestess? Of course, they would all fall head over heels for her.

No one as much as Azriel, though.

The change in his demeanor was obvious. With the way Azriel usually was, Nesta felt almost like an intruder when she observed the two. Like she barged in on some intimate moment that should have stayed between the couple. It turned out, cool and collected Azriel had an infinite reservoir of affection that he was all to happy to spend on one person only.

Every time he reached for Gwyn’s hands and brought them to his lips for a quick kiss, when she leaned over to whisper some kind of joke that made them both chuckle, or when he served her a ridiculous amount of dessert, Nesta couldn’t help but smile.

They both deserved this. An easy, quiet love that flowed as strong as a current.

Never mind that Nesta would still hang Azriel by the balls if he ever did something stupid.

Still, as Nesta settled back on her chair with a blissfully heavy belly, she knew.

***

Cassian could honestly jump through all floors of this house and the roof with happiness. But Feyre wouldn’t approve – that was the only thing holding him back and in his designated armchair in front of the fire.

His brother had finally found his courage, and the necessary charm he usually kept well-hidden, and asked the female of his dreams to the solstice party. The warlord had no idea how long the two had been an item, with Nesta-dearest not uttering even a hint in his direction, let alone the vault named Azriel himself, but from the way they acted around each other it must have been at least half a year.

It was honestly hard to tell, since Gwyn had this air of irreverence around his brother from their very first day of training.

The Shadowsinger was currently sat on one of the sprawling sofas, Gwyn tucked closely to his side, while more and more presents started piling in from wherever Rhys kept them hidden.

All that previous snooping for nothing. He knew the ass would hold back the best ones so Cassian didn’t have a chance to scout beforehand. With Azriel and Gwyn, Rhysand and Feyre, Mor, Amren and Varian, Elain and Nyx, and finally Nesta and Cassian, the living room resembled a wrapping factory. He didn’t even want to estimate the accumulated wealth currently sitting underneath the tree.

“So, who wants to start? We’ll be sitting here for hours anyways.”, Rhys clapped his hands and surveyed his family. They all held back their own ego, waiting for Nyx to have his first turn, but the boy sat patiently in his mother’s lap, more than content as he played with a loose ribbon.

“I will sacrifice myself.”, Amren drawled from behind him, prancing forward and going through the presents with a scarily accurate precision. Like she could sniff out the hidden jewelry from beneath the packaging. Only when she couldn’t fit any more packages in the tiny span of her arms did she return to her seat, spreading out her bounty over hers and Varian’s lap.

“Will we all go one by one?”, Gwyn whispered in Azriel’s, Cassian’s and Nesta’s general direction, her gaze flicking between the presents underneath the tree and Amren tearing into hers, “Because I’m not sure I can handle the attention.”

“I second that. Let’s go all at once.”, Azriel replied. His brother had been advocating for a simultaneous present opening for decades and seemed all to happy to lessen Gwyn’s worries. Nesta sprung into motion, calling out names and distributing the first round of packaged goods among them.

As she carefully placed a beautifully wrapped, large box on Gwyn’s lap, the priestess lit up with excitement. “Who is this from?”

“Yours truly”, Nes winked at her before settling down herself, a similarly large box next to her, “And if my calculations are correct, this is from you.”

Gwyn nodded, biting her lip a little as she observed the difference in wrapping. It was pretty obvious which presents the priestess brought with her from the house of wind, and which were acquired mostly in Velaris. But Nesta beamed as she opened her box and pulled out a rather massive collection volume of novels by an author named Sellyn Drake.

“Oh wow, look at those sprayed edges!”, she exclaimed, running her fingers over the intricate images and golden accents. Cassian observed the females with a smile, happy for Nesta to have found such a friend. And because for whatever reason, his mate always seemed to be in the mood after reading form this particular author.

Gwyn smiled, her own present balancing forgotten on her knees, “There is more!”

And sure there was. Nesta could barely tear her eyes away from the novel as she pulled out a smaller box, which revealed to hold lovely pearl earrings with sparkling moons and stars engraved in the stone. From behind them, they even heard Amren draw in a breath as she spied Nesta’s gift.

Cassian shared a glance with Az which seemed to communicate his absolute anxiety in trying to trump the priestess’s taste in presents. The Shadowsinger only smiled and raised his eyebrow in mocking challenge. Since Azriel was the master of conjuring up the most well-received gifts, the ass obviously had nothing to worry about.

Gwyn finally tore into her present too, which held soft, turquoise duvet sheets as well as an assortment of scented candles. The priestess ran her hands over the luxurious fabric in awe, probably already picturing how it would look in her newly acquired room in the house of wind.

Among the general mumble that ensured as everyone opened and redistributed their presents, Gwyn rose to draw Nesta into a tight hug. “Thank you so much, Nes.”

“No worries. I wanted to be first though, because I’m sure I can’t trump Azriel’s gift for you.”, Nesta chuckled.

Almost inaudibly over the excited chatter and Nyx’s squeals of happiness, Az mumbled, “She has a point.”

On cue, two neatly wrapped presents flowed over to them on a dark breeze, gently plopping on Gwyn’s lap who looked over to Azriel with a challenging look in her eyes. “We’ll see about that Shadowsinger.”

But Gwyn’s pompous demeanor changed quickly as she beheld the contents of his gifts. One was a portable journal Azriel said the priestess could use for services with a beautiful gold and white cover, patterned and glowing like the scales of a siren’s tail.

“How can I bring myself to write something in it, it’s too beautiful!”, Gwyn exclaimed as she leafed through the pages, each one shining with an iridescent sheen. The second present contained a knitted, cream-colored cardigan which Gwyn put on immediately, her face lit up with joy as she felt its softness. ‘Because you can’t keep running around the library with a blanket slung over you’, Azriel explained.

The whole family passed a few pleasurable hours like this, going through the plethora of presents until the pile of wrapping paper started to look like Mount Ramiel. But even after all was cleared away and wine got exchanged for hot chocolate and tea, the inner circle remained seated around the fire, exchanging stories and watching little Nyx in amusement.

Cassian couldn’t help thinking how well Gwyn fit into their family, slowly warming up more and animatedly talking to Feyre and Varian. Even Amren deigned to perch on the arm of their couch for a time to quietly talk to Gwyn, apparently quite taken with the priestess’s wit and happy about the ‘grown-up conversations she could finally have in this house with her present’.

Among the chatter and flow of conversation, Cassian managed to catch the gaze of Rhys, who, one arm around Feyre’s shoulder and the other stroking Nyx’s back, levelled his stare right back to him. I never knew he could be like this, Rhys’s voice filled his head and a discreet nod into Azriel’s direction confirmed what Cassian had been thinking this whole evening – Mother, even the last few months. Never had he seen another female that inspired their older, grumpy brother to be this attentive, this gentle and talkative.

Mind you, he still was quiet most of the time, content to lay back and follow the conversation or add some sly commentary of his own, but compared to last solstice, their brother showed outright cheerful behavior. The quiet encouragement shining off him when the priestess sought his gaze or the squeeze of his hand from time to time was enough to make even Cassian swoon.

Me either, but I also never saw you as a one-female-kind-of-guy until you got yourself whipped, Cassian directed his thoughts through their mental connection, hoping to convey the teasing undertone.

Rhys only directed a meaningful look at Nesta before jumping back to him. It’s quite nice though, isn’t it?

Cassian couldn’t help the smirk that stretched his lips, subconsciously drawing Nesta more closely to him. Even when he and his brothers were in their wild youths, they had yearned for something permanent, something mere friendship and the environment of war and hate couldn’t provide for them. It seemed that now, after centuries of instability, they had found their peace.

I never realized I needed to see him like this until today, Cassian admitted, letting his gaze linger on Azriel’s relaxed form. Even his shadows were content to sway around his shoulders, occasionally pooling in Gwyn’s lap like a cat made out of pure night.

Rhys nodded absentmindedly, For all the shit he went through, let’s hope this is it for him.

And as Cassian surveyed his family, especially the newest addition, he knew.

***

Mor felt sick to her stomach.

And it wasn’t even the day after solstice, when her hangovers usually kicked in with a vengeance.

After tossing and turning for what felt like hours and consulting the ancient gilded clock in her room, she decided to get some vomiting-prevention going and stumbled out of her bedroom, towards the stairs of the massive house.

The hallway was bathed in darkness, all residents probably sleeping peacefully and non-intoxicated in their beds. Mor cursed herself for her lack of willpower when it came to Rhys’s wine collection and tried to activate her remaining functioning braincells in order to not stumble and break her toes.

She half-limped, half-crawled down step after step, maintaining a vice-like grip on the banister as she swayed forward. Mor hoped she didn’t make any noise, but she couldn’t be sure over the whooshing sounds that filled her ears.

It took all of her effort, but eventually, she reached the bottom of the stairs. Where she nearly stumbled on her ass in surprise.

She had been so focused on her mission, she hadn’t even seen the soft golden glow that still emanated from the living room. The hushed, secretive voices slowly becoming more audible as she crept towards the half-open door.

Seated on the bay window that looked out the icy river flowing beyond were Gwyn and Azriel, so completely absorbed in their whispered conversation that it seemed they hadn’t heard her. The young priestess lay between Azriel’s legs, her upper body supported by his chest, as they gazed out the window to the dancing snowflakes.

Mor’s heart gave a little squeeze at the sight. The comfort and intimacy the scene presented. The way Azriel interlaced his fingers with Gwyn’s, his other arm coming around her waist to hold her even tighter.

She was ashamed of the way she toyed with the male for countless decades, too afraid of their friendship breaking to speak her truth and in turn do right by him – even though she had no reason to believe that Az would have betrayed her secret. And for all his longing gazes, his crushed hopes and fierce loyalty, he deeply deserved this.

This love that seemed to be so honest, so raw and vulnerable that you couldn’t help but root for them. That seemed to give Azriel the security and attention he so desperately craved, a place where he doesn’t feel the need to hide himself or parts of his personality in order to be accepted.

Gwyn’s love and support surrounded her friend like a blanket, cancelling out his sharp edges, and it was visible to everyone who knew the Shadowsinger beyond his violent reputation. He seemed calmer, more at ease with himself and the world. Attentive as always, but with a demeanor that softened just slightly, that allowed room for error and for joy.

It wasn’t the dramatic love of Feyre and Rhys, or the brutally challenging love of Nesta and Cassian. It wasn’t just a seedling that would eventually pine away under the pressure of darkness and secrecy. No, Gwyn’s and Azriel’s love snuck up on them, having quietly but diligently build a bridge between their souls that now appeared impossible to break.

Mor was just about to retreat from the door when Azriel’s head turned in her direction, a shadow moving by his ear. He didn’t utter a word, neither to her nor the priestess that had fallen silent as she sat there with her eyes closed. But he flashed Mor a small smile.

Not a quick twitch of his lips as an answer to being caught with Gwyn, nor the smile he showed the world when he was uncomfortable, the one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The smile that lit up his whole face now, letting him go from handsome to extraordinarily beautiful, spoke volumes about the male and the priestess cradled in his arms.

Mor found herself smiling in return, stepping back and closing the door as quietly as she could when she felt her eyes water.

As she made her way to the kitchen, her heart so much lighter than just a minute before, Mor knew three things with frightening certainty.

That this love was so right she felt its truth in her bones.

That this love went beyond what Azriel ever felt for her.

And that it will only grow stronger.

#gwyneth berdara #gwynriel #acotar #azriel #azriel x gwyn #gwyn x azriel #pro gwynriel

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

I mean 👀 and here I was thinking that the whole fandom adores Nesta and hates Feyre, and that I somehow must have read the books wrong because it went against every thought I ever had about this series

Nesta be like:

"Oh no my family is on the verge of starvation what do I do? Yes spend every single penny my baby sister risks her life everyday for because MY feelings are hurt!!" "Uh oh, a bunch of thugs broke my father's knee & now I hate him! His disability angers mee! fuckk him!" "Feyre is so fucking selfish this bitch is risking her life to feed me omgg how dare she control my life!! Does she not think about how her having a job & a purpose at 14 is hurting MY feelings??!!" "Elain is not sucking up to me anymore I'm sooo alone in this whole world I've no friends 😭😭 omgg Elain stood up for herself today when I insulted her she's a fucking dog!" *Feyre shares the news of her pregnancy* "you are happy it's a boy because you hate ME right?" and the worst of all "I'm gonna use the fact that feyre and her son are both gonna die just to hurt her because MY feelings are hurt and idc if the shock worsens her condition MY FEELINGS ARE HURT!!"

This girl is crazy like how can you never understand that the world does not revolve around you? Your family is DIEING, forget about YOU for a moment???

#pro feyre #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #pro feyre archeron

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

Invisible Strings Pt. II - Gwynriel One-Shot

word count: 4.4k

warnings: swear words, sexual innuendo

As it turned out, living in hell was a lot more comfortable than she thought. At least in a strictly physical sense.

Gwyn went about her usual routines in the safety and warmth of the house, only surfacing once a day for training. You’d think the priestesses wouldn’t go as hard as usual, with their pestering instructors being absent, but something about the fact that they currently fought very real battles served as a kick in the ass. They were diligent and thorough; even adding exercises and runs as they went. Gwyn knew her friends and colleagues were just as nervous as her, had just as much energy to spare. So, they went to work.

It was all calculated, really. Gwyn tried hard all day, working both her mind and body into a state of absolute exhaustion – because she knew that night was unavoidable. And night meant too much peace and quiet. It also didn’t help that the mere thought of it was so deeply entangled with thoughts of Azriel that sunsets were like a stab to the heart.

The only thing that helped, even if it was just for a day or two, were his messages.

Two weeks after he was gone Clotho visited Gwyn in the alcove where she set up work for the day, a crumpled piece of paper in hand and a conspirator’s smile barely visible underneath her low hood. Gwyn was reprimanded by her superior for the loud shriek she let loose when she understood. He kept his first promise, at least.

The message was brief, to the point, and seemingly scribbled in a haste. But he had thought of her, in the middle of absolute chaos. So she sat there for a while, the paper pressed to her chest and staring into nothing. It spoke of numbers and strategy, but held the sentiment of ‘all will be well’. And that was enough for now.

Each morning, Gwyn was the first to arrive at the big spread sheet that was plastered to a wall in the center of the library, right by the entrance. On it, Clotho (and any other official bearing news, Gwyn included) updated the ins-and-outs of this conflict. Each morning, she surveyed the malicious piece of paper, scanning frantically for death tolls, victories, and sometimes, a direct reference to her Shadowsinger.

And so, the days simply went on, with March turning into April, and April making way for the mild May days. As the morning air around them got increasingly warm, Azriel’s messages got increasingly short.

The latest one read:

“Gwyn,

Cassian: mildly hurt (leg, will heal eventually)

Nesta: furious at Cassian

Shadows: missing their favorite

Me: absolutely done with the people around me, will have to find a cave soon for some quiet

Yours, Az”

It brought the first real smile to her face after weeks of sadness. But she also knew (from the handy paper), that a certain notorious warrior with the ability to command shadows caused quite the ruckus during the lastest battle, which was fought right at the border of autumn and summer territory. It didn’t mention exactly what happened, just implied “considerable damage done after an outburst of power”. Gwyn had hoped for Azriel to clear some things up with his message, but he’ll simply have to tell her when he was back.

It turned out, she didn’t have to wait that long.

From time to time, even Cassian and Nesta sent word, assuring her of their relative well-being and the course of this conflict. It was Cassian who, scribbled at the very end of the message, informed her of exactly why her Shadowsinger went berserk that one time.

“… and Gwynie, Az saved out asses today. I’ve never seen him do something like it. It was like he released a blast from his Siphons and Shadows together. I’m not kidding, it evaporated the whole right flank of Autumn. Sent the rest screaming for their mommies. After, when I asked him about it, he just shrugged and mumbled something along the lines of ‘it got caught in the little shit’s uniform and he nearly ripped it’. Maybe you can make something of it.”

But it couldn’t have been. It was just a bracelet, after all.

On May 7th, victory was announced. The news didn’t even make it on paper, it was simply called out by one priestess after another, until shouts of euphoria and relief echoed through the mountain. This morning, Gwyn trained like she never did before. And with a bigger smile on her face than a squat should ever elicit.

They won. And they were coming home.

---

A few days later, as Gwyn readied herself for sleep, she felt something.

It started in her chest, and she briefly wondered if she should see a healer, but the uneasiness made way for warmth after a few minutes. Warmth then turned into a tingling feeling, spreading out through her arms and legs. Then, a pull.

When she reassured herself she wasn’t having a nervous breakdown, and sleeping like this was off the table anyways, she decided to move around. The priestess threw on her dressing gown over her nightdress, and started to climb some stairs. Working out some extra energy.

Until she noticed the pulling and tugging in her chest got worse every time she was at the bottom of said stairs, and slightly lighter when she reached the top. Another step into the hall of the House proper relieved her of more pressure. And another. She was starting to freak out again, when she suddenly noticed a very real tug on her wrist.

Gwyn looked down. At the whisp of Shadows wrapping soothingly around her and pulling her further into the corridor.

She wasn’t proud to admit that it took her a ridiculous amount of time to realize. But when she did, the fireworks starting in her body made her jump into action. 

Walking turned into racing, the walls beside her blurring. But the tears escaping her might have had something to do with that too. She rounded corner after corner, climbed up a thousand flights of stairs, like she knew where she was going. Her heart knew anyways, she figured. And then, she saw him.

Azriel was sat on the armchair of his room, door left open like he couldn’t be bothered to close it, his eyes closed with exhaustion. Gwyn briefly took him in, trying to get her breathing to calm. His coloring was all off, even though he must have been outside often. His shoulders slumped, and he seemed to have lost a bit of weight too. The male looked like he needed a holiday desperately. Even back in safety, his fists were clenched as they rested on his lap.

But he didn’t loose his wings, or an arm, or a leg, or his life. He sat there, in one piece, just like the night she barged into his room crying.

A moment which simply begged for a repeat.

“Azriel?”, she rasped out. All other words escaped her.

And him too, it seemed, as his head lifted to take her in. He moved slowly, deliberately, like he fought his strength for every inch gained. So, Gwyn helped.

In the middle of his room, they clashed together so hard it stole Gwyn’s breath away. Azriel hugged her unbelievably close, his arms and wings and Shadows coming around her body and engulfing her in his scent. The priestess hugged him back just as tightly, not caring that she was only in very thin layers of clothing, or that she was crying again. Because this was her Azriel.

Still hugging, Gwyn heard him mumble something into her hair. She couldn’t hear initially over the beating of her heart, but then-

“What in the Mother’s name are you being ‘sorry’ for?”, she leaned back only slightly (like hell would she leave his arms) so she could see his face, take in his gaunt features and familiar amber eyes.

Azriel entangled one of his hands from behind her and held it open between them, palms facing up. Where her bracelet found its last resting place, it seemed.

“I was flying and winnowing home in leaps, and during the last flight – I don’t know how – I felt it sliding off my arm. Caught it midair, but I don’t know if I can fix it.”, he explained with so much sadness it made her heart squeeze painfully in her chest. The strands were almost translucent, shredded beyond repair. And Gwyn smiled at its magic.

For lack of better words, it had worked like a charm.

Gwyn felt more tears sliding down her face in pure happiness. The bracelet must have ripped as soon as the wish held within was fulfilled. As soon as Azriel was flying home, safely and healthily.

“It doesn’t matter, Az. I’ll make you a new one. Or we’ll make it together.”, Gwyn was still in awe at the tiny piece of string, and the male standing in front of her. She stood on her tiptoes, both hands coming to each side of his face, and pressed her forehead against his. “Thank you for staying alive, Azzy.”

The Shadowsinger hugged her closer, one hand coming to the nape of her neck. “Thank you for keeping me alive.”

Neither of them had the time and energy to acknowledge what they both felt, clear as day, as it glowed and pulsed in their chests. They simply didn’t care, for there were bigger miracles in the world. Well, Gwyn didn’t. Azriel seemed to be too exhausted to notice anyways.

“Shadowsinger?”, Gwyn mumbled after a while.

“Mh?”

“You smell a bit.”

Azriel snorted. “Surprising, since I’ve just come from war and raced against time to be here earlier than everyone else. But next time, I’ll just bathe instead of seeing you right away. No problem.”

Gwyn smiled. “No. Next time, I’ll come with you, remember?”

“Right. I’ll tell Rhys to piss off some important people so you can have your war. But tomorrow.”, Azriel smiled at her, his hand coming up to caress her cheek. He fell quiet while his eyes continued to roam her face, soaking up her smile.

What he said next needed to be recorded in history for the best change of subject to ever exist.

“I’m in love with you.”, Azriel confessed.

He seemed a bit taken aback by it himself, for his eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “Gods, that should have come out a bit more … cohesively.”

Gwyn was staring at him, mouth agape but already stretching back into a smile. “It was cohesive enough I’d say.” The butterflies in her stomach at least understood perfectly.

“I- fuck“, Azriel finally let go of her, stepping back to the edge of his bed and sitting down with exhaustion. He was clearly annoyed at himself, and the combination of anger, confusion and sleep-deprivation made him look like an overgrown bat that was just woken up from a nap. It was adorable, and Gwyn wanted it painted.

“I planned to tell you this in a really romantic, beautiful way. Planned it every waking minute I spent there and wasn’t preoccupied. Gwyn, you were on my mind constantly, looking over my shoulder – and apparently also guarding my back. And I wanted to do this in a way that felt grander. Like in the novels you like so much.”

She practically felt him mentally scolding himself.

“You- I-“, he took a deep breath. “The thought of not having told you when I should have haunted me. It kept me going week after week, because I just wasn’t about to die before telling you. That you are my home, and my best friend. And for a few months now, I have started to think of you differently than before. The more I wanted it to go, the stronger it got.”

The priestess had hoped, of course, but hearing him say it gave her enough material to daydream for the rest of her life. Gwyn involuntarily inched closer to him until she was in touching range again, brushing her hand through his longer-than-usual locks and massaging his scalp.

“I think I knew. Or some part of me did anyways, when we said goodbye that night in March.”, she confessed, her voice as soothing as the patterns she drew with her fingers. “You really rather faced war than just confessing this the moment we parted, huh?”

Azriel signed. “Don’t remind me of my shortcomings, please, not tonight anyways. Swords are a little more straight forward to me than words of affection.”

The Shadowsinger’s hands came up to hold onto Gwyn’s waist, pulling her downwards so she sank onto his lap, her own arms draped over his broad shoulders. Apparently, neither of them was capable to be physically separated right now. She sat on rock hard muscle and leather, and yet, nothing has felt more comfortable in her whole life.

“We can work on that.”, she promised, “Put it right on the list, next to ‘make a new intimidatingly-male-colored bracelet’.”

“We can?”, he asked – voice so low it sounded almost … unsure?

Gwyn furrowed her brows, finding his gaze again to assure herself that he was still alive and not sliding into unconsciousness while she talked about bracelets. The hope and anxiety she was met with gave her heart a squeeze.

And she realized she hadn’t said it back.

“Oh Gods.”, Gwyn broke out into giggles, “Az, I’m sorry. You need some vital information to understand.”

She cupped his face again – it fit so perfectly in her palms – and pressed a soft, loving kiss on his lips. After a moment of shock Azriel responded, moving his mouth over her own in gentle, careful movements. It was her first kiss after Sangravah, and it felt exhilarating.

“I love you, too.”, she mumbled, her mouth still so close to his it brushed his skin with every word. “And only now that you’re back I feel like I can breathe again. You make me want to be brave and strong – even voluntarily go into war. You are my best friend, too. But at the same time so much more than that.”

Azriel’s face, previously neutral in expression, finally crumpled with emotion when he felt the truth in her words. That she wasn’t about to take them back or reject him.

“May I kiss you again, love?”

Gwyn smiled. It was all her body was able to do now. “Most definitely.”

---

Never had Gwyn seen a person that devoured that much food within so little time. It was actually impressive, and there was probably some kind of money to be won with that talent.

Her and Azriel were seated at the gigantic dining table in the house, serving themselves with the large breakfast the house provided in celebration of Az returning. And even though Gwyn ate perfectly normal these past weeks, she decided to treat herself too. Because a second helping of syrup-covered pancakes never hurt nobody, and she did go through a lot of mental tension.

Azriel was on his third or fourth plate by now, mixing sweet with savory and already looking so much better than last night as he filled her in on the fascinating and heartbreaking details of what happened. Gwyn doing the same with updates from the house and library.

Despite that fact that the priestess never felt more at ease with another person than Azriel, safe for her late twin, it was like they had reached another level of familiarity this morning. Oh, Gwyn was still giddy just looking at the male and the way he made holding a fork look swoon-worthy, but they might as well have been together for a decade. No anxious fidgeting, no desperate search for topics to talk about.

The fact that they officially spent their first night together might have helped.

It was all very innocent, to be fair. They simply refused to let go of one another, and so Azriel suggested she stay with him. Gwyn agreed, for purely practical reasons of course. And after the Shadowsinger had his much-deserved dinner and bath, they found each other again under the soft cover of the duvet. The blush that stole itself into Gwyn’s cheeks had nothing to do with the hot tea as she remembered it.

“What are you thinking about?”, Azriel’s voice held a dangerous teasing edge to it.

Gwyn took a sip from her cup, biding her time and hoping the color would miraculously drain from her face again if she tried hard enough. In front of her, the Shadowsinger raised an eyebrow. She felt like a kid being caught with her hand in a bag of candy.

The priestess set her cup down with pointed care and readjusted herself on her seat. “I’ve been wondering when Cassian and Nesta might arrive. Hopefully today.”

Definitely not her best diversion.

“Oh? And you were blushing because…?”. When Az caught a lie, he was as relentless as a hound on a scent.

“Well, I’m happy. For obvious reasons.”, her tone was way off, too defensive and high-pitched to have sounded normal. Gwyn blamed his beautiful lips for throwing her off her game. And the fact that she got an unlimited number of kisses from them now.

She wouldn’t come out of this easily. So, she might as well go down swinging. Because teasing your significant other was one of the benefits of becoming an official girlfriend. “I’m just so excited to see Cass again. Train with him. I’ve missed him so much.”

Gwyn added a sigh for good measure.

Azriel’s eyes narrowed at her. But whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a loud shriek.

Both of them were out of their seats in a heartbeat, Shadows flying out in every direction to scout.

“Balcony.”, Az mumbled, a dagger poised in hand and already on his way to the massive glass doors to their side. Gwyn followed him on silent feet.

But before his hands touched the handle, he relaxed his posture and let out a startled laugh. A Shadow curling around his ear must have given him a closer idea of their ‘threat’.

Landing on the balcony before them were Cassian and Nesta, wearing ridiculously large grins on their faces and looking a bit worse for wear.

Gwyn pushed past Az, out of the doors and flung herself in Nesta’s arms before she touched the ground. 

“You’re back!”, she whisper-cried into her hair while her best friend squeezed her in return. Those remained the only coherent words she uttered in her direction. They proceeded to communicate in a series of squeals and unintelligible sounds. But the sentiment was conveyed.

After that, the morning continued in a flurry of hugs, random outbursts of happiness and endless topics to talk about.

Their favorite, much to Azriel’s chagrin: Gwyn’s relationship status. Because according to Cassian, ‘nothing about this war was as bad as having to endure Azriel’s constant sulking’ and it ‘finally paying off’. Az seemed a bit taken aback that it didn’t remain their little secret for a while, but endured the good-natured teasing like a true hero.

Which, actually, seemed to be the general consensus of his behavior.

“That fucking battle, let me tell you.”, Cassian managed to get out in-between mouthfuls of food, “One second, we’re all in deep shit. Next, the whole right flank – incinerated. Nothing but darkness all around. And I just thought: ‘What the hell, who else in this army can wield that kind of power?’. Turns out”, Cassian clapped Azriel on the shoulder affectionately, “Az here did that all by himself.”

‘Az here’ looked ready to bolt into a far-off mountain village.

“How did you figure out to do that anyways? And why has that brilliant idea not come to you during the multiple wars we already fought?”, Cas asked.

Azriel just shrugged, clearly not comfortable with the question, which caused Cassian to roll his eyes at him. “Gwyn, any ideas what to make of it?”

Gwyn of course had an idea, but she also new Az didn’t really want to talk about it yet. So she answered carefully, “Maybe it was a burst of emotion. Your Shadows seem to react to that sometimes.”

“I got a bit angry.”, Azriel confirmed in a low, almost gentle voice. The explanation was clearly aimed at Gwyn, but it was Cass who answered.

“A bit angry my ass. He cut the guy’s head clean off his shoulders and then released a blast of power that had Rhys do a double take from the other side of the field.”

Cassian shook his head, and that was that. The conversation then turned to way more comfortable topics, and as soon as Cassian finished eating, Nesta flashed him ‘the eyes’. Both were out of their seats within seconds, not even bothering with an explanation.

Not that either Azriel or Gwyn needed one as they exchanged a long-suffering look.

“Can I interest you in a flight?”, he asked, already making his way to the balcony. His eyes sparkled with mirth and happiness, and Gwyn had never been more in love.

“Well, yes, you can.”, she pranced over to him, lacing her fingers with his and letting him take the lead to the railing. She always wanted to fly with him. “One more thing, before I lay my life into your hands.”

“They are very capable hands. But sure, go ahead.”, the Shadowsinger smirked at her in such an openly flirty way it made Gwyn blush. But she powered through.

“Soo. The angry tantrum you threw. You think it had anything to do with the bracelet almost ripping?”, she asked, the truth in her words confirmed as she took in his shocked reaction. Well, if you counted a slight widening of his eyes as outright shock.

“How on earth did you guess that?”, he replied, pulling her closer by the waist. “You’re too smart for your own good, Berdara.”

Gwyn giggled in triumph. She would not rat out Cassian and the hint from his message, not if it meant that Azriel thought her to be psychic. “It made sense. With you seeming so crestfallen as it ripped.”

The atmosphere changed after she said that, his playful attitude turning somber.

“It was a difficult few days. We lost a good chunk of our army, some valuable assets too, and both my brothers turned to their respective partners for solace while I stayed by the campfire.”, he spoke the words very matter-of-fact, but they hit Gwyn nonetheless. She could picture it, how he had to stay in the cold darkness without the comfort of a loved one.

“I’m not saying you should have come with me. To this day, I’m thankful you decided to stay.”, he quickly added, “Usually, this kind of misplaced jealousy would leave me hopeless and angry. But I felt your bracelet around my wrist, so instead I started to remember you. The thoughts of you, your smile, your gorgeous freckles – it felt like you were physically present. All my hope and dreams anchored to the bracelet. It spurred me on, because I wanted to win this war so you could live in peace. And it reminded me not to lose my temper and strike without thinking, so that I might return and have the courage to admit my feelings to you.”

“But that one time, I let anger take over. Because it nearly ripped. And it felt like I was about to lose that one tether I still had to you. The thought made me mad with rage.”

Gwyn stared at him in awe. At the male, who had saved her home yet again, and who’s unyielding loyalty made her heart race.

“We definitely have to work on your anger management.”

Azriel snorted, but nodded his agreement. He leaned down to carefully brush his lips against hers, the silent question answered by the priestess as she rose to her tiptoes to deepen the kiss. She was certain she’d never get enough of this.

“I’m so proud of you, Az. For getting through his, fighting for me and your family, for coming back to me. I love you.”

Being able to say it so freely now was a groundbreaking experience. Especially when it ultimately led to the great Shadowsinger blushing.

“Back to the topic of anger management though-”, Azriel said as he moved to scoop Gwyn off the floor, ready to take flight, “What was that again you said about Cassian earlier?”

Gwyn’s arms looped around his neck, holding on for dear life even though they were still firmly grounded. Her teasing would come to bite her in the ass now, it seemed. “Umm, I think it was that I hoped him and Nesta would return today. And ‘yay’, it came true.”

Lying by omission wasn’t too bad, right?

Azriel nodded pensively. “I seem to remember. But after that, I just recall feeling like I was stabbed in the heart.”

Gwyn had to bite her lip to stop herself from grinning. This playful side of him was her new favorite thing. “Weird. Heartburn?”

“You might be right.”, he answered slowly. Their eyes caught for a second. Then, Azriel stepped onto the railing, Gwyn still tightly cradled in his arms. He turned his back to the precipice, and the grin that graced his features felt simultaneously joyous and dangerous. “Must have been heartburn.”

He let himself fall backwards, laughing out freely as Gwyn shrieked with excitement. The drop lasted only for a second, before Azriel turned and caught them with the spread of his mighty wings. They lurched upwards again, sailing on a breeze towards the city of Velaris.

“I sincerely hope you are deaf on one ear now!”, Gwyn laughed. She was barely able to form the words from the wide smile that seemed to be permanently plastered to her face when she was with him. Even though her stomach remained somewhere on the balcony, she already loved flying.

“And I sincerely hope you think twice before you tease me.”, he answered in mock seriousness. He added a quick kiss to her cheek for good measure, just in case she misunderstood him. “You being with me now– it means you have to spare me from heartbreak like that.”

“I never took you for someone who likes to be coddled.”, Gwyn shot back.

“Ohh, you clearly don’t know what you got yourself into.”, Azriel drawled, banking right to fly over the outskirts of Velaris.

Gwyn thought to herself that she was more than happy to figure it out.

#gwynriel #pro gwynriel #acotar writing #gwyn x azriel #azriel x gwyn #gwyneth berdara #acotar #azriel

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

You finished your degree! Congratulations! I was so excited to see you posted 😊🫶🏻 mostly because that means you’re alive and well 😂 any big plans now that you’re done with school?

I’m off to read the masterpiece you just dropped. Will surely simp again in the comments on AO3 ✨

Thank you!! I will start my teacher training next year in february (where i live, you need to study at uni for 5 years, then do another 2 years of 'teacher training', and only then you are fully done). But that means I am about 2/3 done and get to earn at least a little money 😅

Thank you so much for stickig with me, even though I tend to dip every once in a while. Your support means the world to me and honestly brings a smile to my face whenever I'm about to post ❤️

[On another note, i started reading fourth wing...very sexually confused with the abundance of grumbly shadow-boys 👉👈🙂 have you read it??]

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

Invisible Strings Pt. I - Gwynriel One-Shot

Surprise attack lol. I'm alive.

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: language related to war and violence, angst

Gwyn and Azriel have to part ways before the Shadowsinger flies off to war.

Gwyn always liked the moments just before a storm. When the heavens brew up a potion of lightning and thunder, winds picking up speed and oceans growing wild with restless energy. It was like the world came to a momentary halt, nature stopping its breath for a second. Then, chaos erupts. During times like this, the priestess usually finds herself nestled into a cozy armchair by a big window, watching with rapt attention from the security of her home.

But what happens if your home suddenly became the center of the storm, tension building painstakingly slow? What if your very foundations started to shake and crack, and you didn’t know which way to run for safety?

Only two days ago did the autumn court and Koschei’s army declare open war against the allegiance of Prythian. Even though the territory of the Night Court wasn’t a battleground, their troops were currently flying and marching south – to meet either victory or their end. Cassian and Nesta have been gone for two weeks now, scouting and preparing for battle. 

To say Gwyn was a nervous wreck was an understatement. The mere thought of Nesta and Cassian sent her spiraling. The heaviness of war loomed in every dark corner of the library, in the shadows of her room. With a surge of anxiety came the shame – because was she really standing there, in the warm and safe halls of the House of Wind, panicking and feeling sorry for herself, when her friends faced the real threat?

When Azriel was about to head into the center of fighting?

She would just about manage to go about her routine if it weren’t for that that little, persistent, cruel thought. It snuck up on her all throughout the day, only to leave her shaking between the rows of books. Azriel would join their friends tomorrow morning. And she might never see him again.

Bracelet in one hand, a light in the other, Gwyn ascended the stairs leading to the house proper. She didn’t even know where he chose to spend his last moments in peace, but her legs carried her all the way to his room nonetheless. The light pouring through the slit of his door told her enough, yet she still didn’t quite know how to go about this. What could she possibly say to make this situation better? Did he even want a ‘goodbye’, or was he better off pretending that this moment wasn’t as severe as it felt? Her shaking fingers placed the bracelet in her pocket, then formed a fist to knock on the door.

Upon entering, Gwyn couldn’t help but notice how perfectly normal everything looked. His bed was as pristine as ever, a fire burning merrily in the hearth, Azriel slouching over papers in front of it. But his bags were packed, weapons stashed neatly by the door. Gwyn’s eyes stung with tears that she quickly blinked away.

“Hey you.”, she offered a greeting, her voice only wobbling slightly. Azriel looked up from his reports, face neutral, if not slightly amused.

“Gwyn.”, he replied, nodding his head towards the couch for her to sit. She obliged, if only to give her knees a rest, while Azriel stood to stack away the documents. Up to this point, it was routine. For the past year or so, they found themselves drawn to each other, with Gwyn visiting him in the library or his room for evening chats, or Azriel coming down to her workplace for a quick lunch.

“Would you like something to drink, eat?”, he asked casually as he resumed his seat in the armchair before the fire. Gwyn declined, fidgeting slightly in the loaded silence that ensued. But he wasn’t offering her a conversation starter, and she didn’t know how to voice her own thoughts.

Gwyn knew for a fact he knew why she was here, that she physically couldn’t bear the thoughts of battle in the loneliness of her own room and had to see for herself one last time. To see his face: brows furrowed in concentration as he read, the little tilt to his head when he listened to one of her pointless stories, the rare, but ever so beautiful grins when she managed to surprise him with some unexpected quirk of hers.

But laughter was the last thing on her mind now. And the more she looked at him, the blurrier her vision got.

Azriel let out a startled, slightly pained laugh as the first tear escaped down her cheek. Gwyn tried to blink the rest away furiously, but all that ended up doing was produce more waterworks. She barely noticed Az kneeling in front of her and gently reaching for her hands. Only as the warmth of him seeped into her cold fingers, and she beheld his amused expression, did she choke out a laugh as well.

“You know, I came here tonight to cheer you up.”, her voice came out all weird. It held all the pent-up emotion from the past weeks, mixed in with the absurd comic of the situation. Gwyn couldn’t help thinking that she behaved exactly like one of the book characters of long passed times, the hysterical damsel in distress. If she fainted now, she’d sink straight through the wooden floor all the way into the mountain itself.

The way she was feeling, she wouldn’t have put it past herself.

“Worked like a charm.”, the Shadowsinger reply wryly while caressing the backs of her hands with his thumbs in a soothing manner. “I wouldn’t go so far as to call you ‘cheery’, but you definitely offered distraction.”

Gwyn’s lips stretched into one of those smiles that only needed one more depressing thought to slip into full-on wailing.

“I can’t bear it.”, she whispered, shaking her head.

“It’s just war, Gwyn. It happens every few decades, and so far, I’ve managed to survive quite a lot of it.”, Azriel, bless his soul, was trying to reason with her. “Besides, believe me when I say I have entered spying missions that posed more of a danger to me than open battle. I can look after myself. And if I fail, there are hundreds of other warriors out there who have my back.”

He has talked enough for the tears to subside slightly. Gwyn listened with furrowed brows, trying very hard to focus her vision enough so that she might soak up the look on his face. She contemplated his reassurances for a bit.

“Sounds like a lot of bullshit to me, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel only grinned back at her, shrugging his shoulders. The nerve of this male!

“You’ll be the death of me.”, she said, feeling a little more like herself. Enough so that her cheeks started to stain slightly. Did she really just come to his room only to break out into tears? When she was the one waking up in her safe, comfortable room tomorrow morning without the prospect of dying?

“Gods, Az, I’m so sorry.”, she quickly whiped away her tears, only briefly mourning the loss of his touch. There were more important things to focus on tonight that her stupid crush. “I shouldn’t have barged in like that. I didn’t even know if you wanted company tonight or just some silence. I can only imagine how stimulating and stressful a war camp might be and now I’ve robbed you of your last moments of peace.”

She winced apologetically, her hands clinging to each other in her lap. “If you’d like, I can go and we forget this ever happened.”

But Azriel held onto her as she made to stand up, effectively making her bounce back onto the sofa. “Don’t go, please.”

The look they shared as he said that could have measured a second or a minute. Either way, Gwyn was unable to tear herself away from his gaze, the sudden intensity in it. But she managed to nod, leaning back on the sofa and assuming what she hoped was a natural and relaxed position.

For the next hour or so, Gwyn tired her very best to ignore the looming threat hung above the room like stormy, dark cloud. She tried to be as engaging and bubbly as usual, because that was what he deserved. Distraction, and a bit of amusement, to get him through the night.

They only noticed the time passing when the House dumped another log of wood into their nearly dying fire. Two sets of eyes flicked to the hearth, then to the clock in the corner, two pairs of legs sprung into motion.

“I am so sorry Az. You should have been in bed-“

“for about two hours.”, Az concluded slowly, as if coming out of a trance. “I’ll walk you to the stairs, yes?”

They went in silence, any pretense of normality broken. Gwyn counted the steps they took from his room to the stairs, each one thundering more loudly in her head than it should. She couldn’t shake the feeling of profound panic, of her life being over as soon as she stepped foot into the library.

So she stopped dead in her tracks, forcing Azriel to turn around.

“I’ll come with you.”, she blurted out, her body so full of adrenaline she didn’t even feel fear mixing into her personal cocktail of emotions as well. “Why didn’t we think of that! I just come with you, and I’ll help you with your work and help with the wounded and then it will be over more quickly.” She nodded to herself as she rambled, barely registering what she said. “I can share a tent with Nesta, I can clean, I can even fight if worse comes to worse!”

“Gwyn, you can’t honestly mean that.”, Azriel’s low voice was like a balm that settled over her anxious heart. With him, she could do it. Could face war.

“Yes, I do mean that.”, Gwyn replied, “I’ll be of no use in the library anyways, way too distracted and fidgety to do any proper work. We can ask Clotho for permission right away.”

Gwyn moved past him, her body working on autopilot, to inform Clotho of her apparent death wish. But a warm, solid hand grabbed her forearm and gently pulled her back. Towards an even warmer, sturdier body. Before she could react, her whole being was enveloped in the scent and feel of Azriel. Gwyn’s panicked mind decided she liked it there. It felt like home.

“No.”, Azriel simply said, wrapping both his arms around her and holding her close.

Gwyn made to protest, but Azriel’s voice continued to rumble through his chest. “I’m not saying you aren’t a good fighter, and I am not saying that because you’re a female you should stay here. But hear me out please?”

Gwyn nodded against his chest, her own arms now finding purchase on his back.

“War is different than anything you have ever seen before. It’s not like the Blood Rite, where you are spread out across fields and woods and sporadically fight, or simply avoid it. War means close fighting, shoulder to shoulder, having to step over your own dying allies to push back the enemy. War is loud, and chaotic, and absolute hell on earth.”

The priestess was crying into his shirt now, trying to listen to the truth in his words, trying to acknowledge the fact that her knees wanted to give out at the mere thought of such a scenario. But that other, unreasonable part of her did not want to let him go there on his own.

“Gwyn, war means you’ll have to stay in a camp full of warriors. All of them sizable, all of them getting increasingly angry and lonely as time passes. And as much as I’d wish for it, I wouldn’t be there all of the time to keep an eye on you. Nesta and Cassian won’t either. Do you hear me, love?”

He pulled back, coming face to face with her. Gwyn whispered a defeated ‘yes’. She hadn’t even found the courage to visit Velaris yet, still jumped when hearing male voices that weren’t familiar to her. What on earth made her think she could face this?

“I’m sorry to leave you behind.” Azriel shook his head, his hand coming up to reach for her face, only to be dropped again after a second. “But in all honesty, I’m not sure if I could do my best while knowing you’d be there.”

Gwyn nodded, stepping away from him just a bit. Her mind had gone all fuzzy with the smell of him. “I understand. Maybe… maybe next time?”

She didn’t understand immediately why he laughed at her words. All her body knew was sadness.

“What?”

Azriel’s voice still held some laughter as he answered, “Only you would wish for another war to happen just to prove me wrong.”

Gwyn realized what she said a second later. Gods, she must have forgotten her brain in the dormitory before coming up to meet him. What was happening to her?

“So, this is goodbye?”, she concluded, finally feeling the cold of the stairway creeping up her legs and arms now that the Shadowsinger didn’t scare it away.

“Yes. But only a temporary one. I’m not easy to kill.” Now, his hand did come up to cup the side of her face, his thumb wiping away the tear stains. She caught his wrist with her own hand, stepping close to him again and – encouraged by whatever condition her mind was currently in – pressed a quick, soft kiss to his cheek.

“Promise me to write. And promise me to stay alive.”, she said, her voice again wobbly with emotion.

Azriel had a pained look on him. Like a man deeply regretting something and wishing with all his heart to turn back time. But he managed to repeat the promise to her. And he managed to keep his distance, despite the slight lean of his body towards her.

“Oh!”, the priestess exclaimed with a start. If she had forgotten, she’d have kicked herself repeatedly for the foreseeable future! Reaching in her pocket, she rummaged out the bracelet she made for him. It seemed pathetic now, really, the delicate strings of yarn next to the Shadowsinger.

But his eyes softened as he beheld the present. “I wanted to give that to you. You don’t have to wear it, of course!”, she quickly added, now thinking he might not want to parade this token of affection around in a war camp. “But I like to think it’ll protect you.”

Azriel swallowed. Then he simply held out his right arm. Her fingers, thankfully, did not shake as she managed to tie it around his wrist. Blue for his siphons, black for his Shadows, and white for peace and protection. The charm she knotted into the bracelet held her wish for him, that he might return to her in one piece.

“I’ll honor it. And my promises to you.”, he said. And before Gwyn could fathom what happened, her Shadowsinger wrapped himself around her once more, squeezing with more force than necessary. “I’ll come back to you, love. And I’ll make things right.”

Gwyn didn’t really know what he meant, but her heart danced around her chest regardless. Also, did he just call her ‘love’? It sounded so natural, so normal that she almost didn’t catch it.

After a while, he pulled away again.

“See you around, Berdara.”

She didn’t find the right words to reply immediately. When she finally did, he was long gone, blended in with the Shadows surrounding them.

And with this second, piercing her chest like a strike of lighting, her own personal hell had begun.

#gwynriel #azriel x gwyn #gwyn x azriel #pro gwynriel #acotar #azriel #gwyneth berdara

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

Where are you?

And I'm so sorry I cannot sleep, I cannot dream tonight I need somebody and always This sick, strange darkness Comes creeping on, so haunting every time And as I stare, I counted The webs from all the spiders Catching things and eating their insides Like indecision to call you And hear your voice of treason Will you come home and stop this pain tonight?Stop this pain tonight.

In short, I miss you homie.

I noticed your radio silence again and hope you’re well as usual.

This was probably much funnier in my head but I’m still sending it to you 😂

Do you know how long it took me to recognize that as lyrics? I was this close to a panic. 😅

Thank you for asking! I moved back to my home country and fell into a bit of a depressed phase as I'm not well adjusted yet. Plus, the writing I do for my thesis is sooo different from fanfiction writing, its hard for me to be able to separate the styles. So there probably wont be any more writing until i finished this stupid thesis.... im very sorry 😔 and i miss you too! ❤️

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

The Best is yet to Come (ER) - Gwynriel One-Shot

The (long) story of how Azriel manages to deal with the mating bond snapping for him. 

word count: 9.6k

warnings: swearing, mention of trauma/depression, ANGST with some fluff in between 

“After we infiltrated the main house, Cat in the kitchen, myself as a worker in the stables, we managed to identify three main passageways used between the servants. The first one is accessed through a hidden door in the library,…”

Azriel fought hard battles with himself. The first against the urge to close his eyes, the second for his mind to remain somewhat focused. He had read that particular passage of the report about three times, still not remembering what was actually important. Both of his hands ran through his tousled locks in an attempt to wake himself up, to push his concentration just a little more.

But it was a battle he was destined to lose.

He knew he had been running himself ragged these past days, weeks even. But what was his health and sanity compared to the well-being of a whole court, of his family? Feyre and Rhys needed this information as quickly as possible in order to make some tough decisions – decisions that impacted the safety of everyone he loved. His heart squeezed together painfully, the thought of Gwyn or Cassian or Nesta hurt haunting him like a ghost, and forcing his attention back to the paper sprawled in front of him.

It was a testament to his slow mind that he only noticed Gwyn standing in front of him when she reached out her hand to grab his.

“Hey Azzy”, her voice was so soft it barely disrupted the previous quiet of the library. “May I help you with some of your work?”

Azriel’s bloodshot eyes found her in a heartbeat, taking in her nightgown, bare feet, and the little smile she gave him. Then his attention fixed on the dark circles under her eyes, contrasting harshly against her pale face. He hadn’t noticed her own exhaustion before now. What kind of a shit partner that made him, he didn’t even want to acknowledge. His brain simply added it to the never-ending list of things he was shit at.

His girl needed sleep, not to sort through reports with him until the morning. “No, thank you. Just go back to sleep, love.” He squeezed her hand with his, trying to convey to her that he was truly okay. Even though he had trouble recalling the last time he was.

Gwyn’s brows furrowed, her arms crossing in front of her body. Azriel sensed her resistance, and with it the draining argument they were going to have over this. Thankfully, his remaining non-fried brain cells were quick to counter.

“Actually, I’m going to head in with you. This can wait until tomorrow.”, he made a show of dismissing the papers into the drawer of his heavy desk, and stood to wrap Gwyn up in his arm. She just looked mildly surprised, swallowing down whatever comment she was about to make and wordlessly inched closer to him.

The couple made their way through the House of Wind, finding their shared bedroom even in the absolute darkness of the hallway. Azriel kissed Gwyn to sleep, gently caressing her sides and arms until her breathing evened out, and his Shadows reported that she was indeed completely asleep.

Centuries of stealth training came to aid as he pushed himself off the bed again, leaving his priestess to hopefully get a few hours of rest, while he dragged himself back to his desk.

He felt like shit. Not just in a physical sense, but also for the white lie he fed Gwyn. He knew she was concerned, and it flattered him, really. But she didn’t understand that he had to do this. He had to give their cause his all. Rhys trusted him with one of the most important areas of running a court, and he refused to disappoint him. Well, disappoint him more than he already did in the past.

So he slumped back into his seat, wings now resting on the cold floor beneath him, and pulled out the paper once more. If Gwyn woke up in the night to find him missing, he’d have to deal with that. If she slept through the night, he could claim he’s only been at work for a minute. That thought settled him enough to resume his work, even though his stomach turned to lead.

 Gwyn POV

The summer solstice celebration was everything she imagined and more.

The back garden of the High Lord’s and Lady’s house was nearly drowned in flowers of all kinds of colors, little fae lights illuminating the crowds and the food as the sun began to set on the longest day of the year. But the delicious fruit and pastries, the vibrant coloring and exhilarating music were nothing compared to the expression on the guest’s faces. Gwyn couldn’t get enough of their happiness, joy and relaxation lighting up even the grumpiest. Her own smile grew another fraction as she spotted Nesta and Cassian in the crowd, dancing and giving each other flirty winks.

She raised her glass in their direction, then drank to their health and safety.

A year ago, she would have been content with the quiet ritual the priestesses performed in the library to thank the Mother for another brilliant year. Now, she stood in the middle of a crowd, laughing and chatting and drinking with her friends – her family. She had come so far, growing into her own skin. And tonight was the night she wanted to take another step in reclaiming her body and mind.

The butterflies in her belly fluttered at the sheer thought, her gaze immediately seeking out her very own broody bat. The fluttering stopped abruptly when she finally spotted him.

He was standing in the corner of the party, underneath the shade of the apple tree. Even though night had only begun to fall these past minutes, his presence was already shielded in complete darkness. All guests made a wide detour around him, like he exuded some kind of poison and your happiness would completely wipe out if you stood in his proximity. His features were the only ones not lifted into a smile or a laugh.

Gwyn debated long and hard about whether to approach him now, even though the sight of him made her heart break. Usually, it led to either an argument, or him shutting off even more. And that was the last thing she could use now, hoping the two of them would end the night tangled in the sheets together. So she swallowed her worry, her need to be with her mate when he was being hard on himself, and resumed her walk around the garden. She trusted he would approach her when he was ready, so she waited.

Maybe it would be different if Azriel actually knew they were mates. It was a secret Gwyn kept for two years now, and with good reason. If he’d react cold and hurtful when she simply wanted him to open up to her, then she didn’t want to imagine the fight that insured when she revealed that particular connection to him. Azriel and mating bonds had a past that went deep, and any mention of it, Gwyn knew, would open it up into a bleeding wound.

So, she danced and chatted some more, the colors of the sky changing from their pure indigo to comforting black dotted with stars. Azriel still didn’t make a move towards her, so she decided to take action herself.

Just as she was about to take the first step in his direction, she noticed the female.

She was gorgeous, all long legs and shiny blond hair. And currently flashing her white teeth at her mate in a seductive smile. To his credit, he only looked mildly annoyed as her hand actually reached for his arm. And Gwyn waited, waited, waited for him to excuse himself. Or point in her direction in show of their relationship. Or to do something that was different than just standing there, letting it all happen as if he wasn’t even in his body.

Gwyn approached them, sliding her hand in his when she reached his side.

The laugh coming out of the female’s mouth died there, and she shot Gwyn a look that made her feel like a cockroach. Small, stupid, about to be stepped on. “Excuse me, we were just having a private conversation.” Her honeyed voice was laced with condescension.

Gwyn looked at Azriel and squeezed his hand simultaneously, trying to get him to wake up out of this stupor he seemed to be in. And it worked.

The Shadowsinger turned his head into the direction of the female, eyes raking over her as if he saw her for the first time. “I think what you meant to say was that you tried to come on to me. Consider the attempt failed.”

If Gwyn weren’t a bit riled up herself, she’d have flinched at his tone. The female had just tried to shoot her shot, and he spoke to her like he would to his enemies. Maybe it was the dull influence of the bond, him reacting like that.

The beautiful female paled slightly, fighting to keep the flirty smirk on her face. “But you’re not with anyone else. I waited to approach you the whole night. And when no one claimed you…”

Azriel shut her up by lifting his hand, his face unyielding and cold – so cold, Gwyn couldn’t take her eyes off him, mouth agape. His Shadows swirled around his shoulders, some lashing out towards the female. This was so different to the polite male she knew, someone who would have turned down flirts with a small but firm comment before walking away from the situation. This felt wrong.

“If I wanted company, I would have sought someone out. My girlfriend, for example.”, Azriel continued, finally acknowledging Gwyn. But at this moment, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be on his radar.

The blonde took a step back, raising her hands in front of her body as if to calm down a rabid animal. And to be fair, Azriel had that aura surrounding him. Like any wrong movement would make him explode.

“Apologies then, mylord. Lady.”, she quickly nodded to Gwyn and practically fled the scene. Undoubtedly glad she dodged a bullet.

Azriel let out a long-suffering sign. “Sorry you had to witness that.”

Gwyn just raised her eyebrows in return. “Well, it didn’t look like you were doing something about the situation yourself.” The Shadowsinger just nodded in agreement, squeezing her hand again before untangling it from his.

“Did you have to be so ruthless?”, Gwyn couldn’t help but ask. There might have been nothing inherently wrong with the words he used, but the way he spoke them still sent a shiver down her spine. And not a good one.

Azriel shot her an incredulous look, snorting. “Do you mean to tell me I should have encouraged her flirting?”

“No, of course not. And you know I didn’t mean it like that either.”, Gwyn fumbled for words, careful not to spook him by asking too deep questions, “There was just no need to look at her like you’d drag her to the dungeon.”

Now she was the center of his attention. Not in the way she usually was. His features still as hard and unyielding as marble, he fixed his stare on her. “There was. I know women like her. She’d have continued all night long if I wouldn’t have done that. I thought you’d be glad for it.”

Gwyn shook her head in defeat. “Of course I’m glad you turned her down. Just-“

How was she supposed to tell him that his little show there spooked her a little? Not for her own life and safety, never. But for the direction his mental health is headed to. He had always been closed off, a workaholic to a fault, and so damn hard on himself. However, he never let it show to outsiders, let them be the punching bag he directed his rage to.

Azriel’s gaze hardened, the look turning shrewd and calculating. “Are you having a problem with this, because you didn’t want her to know I had a girlfriend? That you are associated with me?”

The only thing keeping Gwyn from shaking some sense into her mate was the fact that she didn’t want to make a scene.

“Azriel.”, both of her hands cradled his face, her voice a desperate whisper, “I love being with you. I want everyone in the whole of Prythian knowing I belong to you, as you belong to me.”

His face softened a fraction at her words, but she could sense he didn’t completely believe them. His mind was an impenetrable wall, and each day it seemed to get bigger. Gwyn feared the day she wouldn’t be able to climb that wall anymore, loosing her mate behind a border of self-hate and aggression.

“I even-“, she lowered her voice once more, aware of the still crowded back garden they were in, “I even wanted to, you know, be a little more brave tonight than I usually am. So that I can be with you completely. I want to give you every single piece of myself, as broken and weak as it might be.”

Azriel’s stare finally crumbled, revealing the softened, loving face she usually saw. “There is no part of you that is broken, or weak. You are the strongest person I know. At least mentally – physically, you’re getting there.” The slight smile he granted her reawaked the butterflies in her stomach. There he was, her mate. “And I feel honored that you want to spend the night with me. That you keep choosing me, even though I have no idea why.”

Gwyn flushed a little, flashing him a flirty smile. “Well, I like the way you brood, it’s quite attractive. And the way you have communication issues, that’s what a girl looks for in a relationship.”

Azriel snorted, offering her his arm to lead them to towards the house. “I like that you’re able to decapitate someone with one swing of a sword, or probably even your hands if you wanted to. It’s a useful skill to have in a boyfriend.”

Gwyn reached up on her tiptoes to plant a little kiss on his cheek. “Oh, and the wingspan is helping your case a lot, too.”

Azriel’s head fell back as he released a groan. “Gwyneth!”

Said Gwyneth just giggled to herself, utterly happy to have him back. To be able to tease him without repercussions.  

“I can’t take you anywhere, defiant female.”, he mumbled, grinning to himself.

Gwyn hopped on the lowest stair leading up to the terrace of the house, Azriel remaining on the grass. “Says the male who stands in the corner at every party, making guests nearly trip over their own feet because you looked at them with you scary, scary expression.”

Azriel’s arms wrapped around her middle, pulling her flush against him. With their height difference cancelled out, their noses were nearly touching. Gwyn melted in his embrace, flinging her own arms around his shoulders.

“That scary, scary look of mine is keeping this court running, thank you very much.”, he said, but the priestess just rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Shadowsinger.”

He chuckled, every single shadow that before haunted his eyes vanishing, “Well, you were never one to be frightened by it, were you?”

“No, it didn’t impress me much.”, she answered cheekily. The truth was that she only ever saw a hero in him, and that opinion solidified after they got closer.

Azriel kissed her slowly, deeply. Probably just to wipe that insufferable expression off her face, but Gwyn took the opportunity nonetheless. She answered the movement of his lips with her own, letting him in to taste the strawberries and wine she had. The Shadowsinger had this special talent that made all your sorrows go away with just one brush of his soft mouth. Gwyn reveled in it, soaking up all the love he handed her. She’d gotten too little of it these past weeks.

When they parted, Azriel looked at her pensively. “I think you were never frightened because you are one of the few people who actually see me. Not just the spymaster, or the warrior, or-“, he stopped, eyes casting their gaze downwards, “the other occupations I usually hold. You saw me as a friend first. You deemed me worthy of being your friend, even though you already had an impressive collection of them.”

Gwyn smirked. Nesta and Emerie, even Cassian, were a force to behold. In addition to a couple of other priestesses she befriended through their training.

“And then”, Azriel continued, “you deemed me worthy enough to be your boyfriend. Which was the most shocking thing of them all. Thank you for loving me.”

Gwyn’s heart nearly burst at the seams. Words were difficult for Azriel, and the fact that he gave her so many now, even though something was clearly off with him, made her feel giddy and warm inside. She heard the bond between them sing, so loud and clear in her head she wondered why Azriel didn’t yet perceive its call.

“You are my partner.”, she said, her melodic voice laced with gentleness, “My equal. Of course I love you.”

Another kiss to his warm lips and the bond began to thrum to the beat of her heart. Louder and louder, with every second passing, with ever taste of his lips. For a moment, everything was perfect.

Then Azriel stopped moving against her, withdrawing from her mouth and body so abruptly it left her cold.

When she opened her eyes in question, he was already staring at her. And she knew by that look on his face, that he had realized.

“You are-“, he started, his voice hoarse. When she reached out her hand to him, he took another step back. He might as well have stepped on her heart, for it felt like her world was falling apart. She had expected resistance from him, she had to remind herself. She expected a little panic.

What she didn’t expect was his Shadows tightening around him, engulfing him in a storm of black. And then, he was gone.

And if that wasn’t answer enough for Gwyn, then the absolute silence that greeted her from the other side of the bond made his opinion crystal clear.  

--

Two days. Two days and not a whisper from Azriel.

Not in the townhouse, the House of Wind, or even Hewn City. Gwyn’s nerves were so frail she was certain to fall apart any second. In each and every shadow, she looked for him. With every sight of Illyrian wings, her heart squeezed together painfully. And the fact that he completely ignored his training duties made her worry to no end. Because his was loyal to a fault, not only to his High Lord, but also to the group of females that needed his instruction.

The bond yielded nothing. Now finally acknowledged from both sides, Gwyn felt its presence in her heart, a thread pulled taunt. Waiting for a decision. It made her want to weep, that instead of celebrating right now, she had to wonder if her other half was okay, or if he currently tried to find a way of ridding himself of her.

Another dinner passed, Nesta and Cassian equally worried after they found Gwyn at the party and she confided in them. Another night she spent alone in their room, her bedsheets smelling like cedar and Azriel. She crumbled that night, crying into his pillow, reaching for him with all her might and desperation. But he didn’t answer.

In the morning, as Gwyn tried to eat breakfast, she finally felt something. An awareness settled over her, and she knew he was about to land on the balcony a few seconds before he touched down. She rose from the chair, eyes transfixed on him, but froze midway.

Azriel strode through the door, taking a seat opposite Gwyn. She was always able to read him. Now, his face might as well have been a painting – unmoving and infuriatingly neutral.

She sank back down in her seat, untrusting of her legs.

“You knew.”, was the first thing he said. His tone so flat, no emotion, no slither of care conveyed with it.

Gwyn nodded. She couldn’t speak from the ball of cotton in her throat.

Azriel leaned back. “Interesting. So here I was, desperate for a bond – which, might I add, you very well knew – and you decided to keep me in the dark.”

A flicker of hurt flashed in his eyes, then it was gone. “Why?”

“Well”, Gwyn tried to order her thoughts, well aware of the importance of what she was about to say, “I knew before we fell in love. I didn’t want you to want me just because the Mother deemed us fit to be together. I wanted you to love me for me, not for a bond or what it promised. For a time, I didn’t know I could even be intimate with someone. It scared me.”

Azriel just continued to stare. And a second later, Gwyn wished he would have stayed so indifferent.

The Shadowsinger leaped from his chair, sending it flying back and breaking with the impact. His Shadows expanded along his wings, flaring with anger. And his face – Gods.

“You kept this a secret because it scared you? Because you thought if I loved you before the bond snapped, it would ensure we lived happily ever after?”, he exploded. Gwyn flinched at his voice and words, completely overwhelmed with the situation.

He let out a taunting laugh. “That’s why you said all those touching things to me. Because you thought we are well matched, since you had an unfair advantage going into this relationship. Well, let me tell you, Gwyn.”, Azriel leaned forward over the table, a position clearly meant to intimidate her. He never ever intentionally did that. “We are not. The past made it clear that you can’t handle me, and you never will.”

His last words yanked her back into her body, and she stood as well, straightening up to her full and impressive height. “You will not tell me what I can and can’t handle, Azriel. And if the past made something clear, it is that I’m willing to work for this relationship. For you, for me. Because I love you.”

Azriel snorted, a cruel smile twisting his lips until he became so utterly unattractive to her it was shocking. “You only think you love me. If you hadn’t known about the bond, you’d have cowered in a corner with everyone else. You trusted I wouldn’t hurt my mate, bond acknowledged or not.”

Gwyn had wanted nothing more than hearing him say it, addressing her with the word mate. But the way he spat it at her – she nearly vomited all over the floor.

“Even now, you haven’t seen all sides of me. Only the ones I wanted you to see. You thought you could be with the male I present to the world. But what will happen to brave little Gwynnie if I take her to Hewn City?”, he started walking now, rounding the corner of the table. “Will you still love me when you see me cutting off limbs, when I flay my suspect’s flesh, when they piss themselves at the sight of me? And when you realize I like it?”

Gwyn was sure her heart had stopped beating in her chest. Yet, she stood her ground when the Shadowsinger came to a stop before her, caressing her cheek with mocking gentleness. “Will you love me then? Maybe you could if you thought they deserved it. But what of our relationship?”

He leaned forward, brushing his mouth against her ear. Gwyn never wanted to recoil from him until that moment. “What happens when you learn how I like to fuck? And how you’ll never be able to satisfy that side of me?”

A tear started rolling now.

So, this was him. This was the demon people were afraid of. Gwyn began to understand.

“How could you?”, she whispered, never breaking eye contact. She’d not give him that satisfaction, not now. Throwing the fact that he tortured people in her face was one thing, taking the most vulnerable part of her and stomping on it with his feet was another.

“How could I what?”, his voice remained hard, “Remind you of what I am? Burst your little bubble? Better now than later, Gwyn.”

He stepped away, making way for the balcony again. Gwyn didn’t think about stopping him. If she were honest, she wanted him gone.

“Who the hell decided we’re evenly matched?”, he ground out, his words addressed to the Gods and the nail to her coffin. As he took to the skies once more, she wished she could carve out her heart, or what remained of it, just to stop feeling.

--

After she cried, slept, cried some more, talked to Nesta and Emerie, and unleashed herself in training, she felt better. Not good, but better.

Gwyn never thought he’d have the ability to hurt her so badly. As someone who was always attuned to her needs, always had his hand ready to help her, always was so gentle with her, she thought he’d have stopped as soon as he saw the tears rolling. But he hadn’t stopped, and that told Gwyn that there was something fundamentally wrong with her mate. So wrong, that he was only half to blame for the spiteful words he threw at her.

The urge to hurt him in return transformed into the urge to see him safely cradled in her arms.

But the silence from him and the bond continued after that breakfast. Gwyn didn’t know where he slept, if he was working, if he sought the company of other females in his rage. She had reached out to Rhysand at some point, at least confirming that he was alive and showed up to the town house for short periods. Only to give and receive updates, nothing more. And no, he hadn’t spoken to Elain, was the other information the High Lord offered her.

She felt close to being single again, if it weren’t for the hole that took up space inside her chest.

Gwyn managed to push through, not slacking in her work or in training. It was the only thing anchoring her to the real world by this point. One morning after two hours of rigorous sword fighting, Cassian took her aside. He was careful to let all the other priestess clear the training ring, Nesta and Emerie included.

“Are you sleeping, Gwyn? Eating?”, he asked without much preamble. His caring eyes ran up and down her body, trying to assess her health.

To be completely honest, Gwyn hadn’t done either of those things the past days. Because eating and sleeping left too much room for thoughts. And currently, her thoughts were enough to make her want to curl up into a ball and never leave the library again.

“I haven’t gotten around to it.”, she answered truthfully, too tired to make up lies and pretenses.

Cassian only nodded, a flash of anger clouding his face. Not at her, she realized, but at her mate.

“Then I regret to inform you that you are banned from training for the foreseeable future. At least until you can handle a sword with a clear head.”

Gwyn let out a sign. She had expected that much, especially after she nearly swung at Emerie this morning, too slow to realize her friend had moved position.

“I understand.”

With one blissful distraction gone, she feared the next day. Feared the poison her mind will be trying to feed her.

“If I knew where he went, I’d tell you in a heartbeat. I hope you know that, Gwyn.”, Cassian signed, looking up to the sky as if it would summon the Shadowsinger out of thin air. “Maybe we should tell Rhys to just bind him to the house the next time he sets foot into it.”

“No. I don’t want to force this. He needs to be ready on his own time. Otherwise it’ll go nowhere.”

Cassian nodded his understanding. “That had always been my mistake when we had a fallout. Rushing it.” His eyes didn’t leave her as he added, voice thick with emotion. “I know I shouldn’t say this, but right now, he doesn’t deserve you. The male he turned into is truly no match for you. Maybe he realized that.”

Gwyn had to squeeze her eyes together to fight the onslaught of tears threatening to fall at his words. “But the male I got to know these past two years, he was. I’m just not sure what happened to him. Or how to help him.”

“Maybe that’s the issue. He needs to help himself before he can face you again.”

The priestess contemplated his words, saw the truth in them. It didn’t make the fact that he was gone easier to accept.

She wordlessly reached her arms out for him. Cassian pulled her into a tight hug without missing a beat. The comfort he offered her was more than enough to make her break again, and she cried in his arms, cried like she lost her mate forever. The warlord held her through it, and when her tears subsided, he flashed her a small grin.

“If I see you working or training by yourself today, I’ll personally speak to Clotho. We need our Gwyn to be healthy. And that’s what you owe to yourself too, to not let your progress be dampened by a stupid male.”

“If he returns, I’ll tell him you called him that.”, Gwyn’s answering smile was nearly heartfelt.

“When, not ‘if’.”, was all he replied before spreading his wings, about to take flight, “and he knows he’s stupid himself, why else do you think he keeps his distance.”

 Rhys POV

Rhysand felt confident in saying that he knew his brother.

After all, they spend nearly every year of their long, immortal lives together. He knew Azriel’s tells and quirks by heart, even though he didn’t have many. He stood by his side through good and truly awful times, always ready to reach out a hand should he want it. He rarely did, only relying on his own instincts, and those of his shadows. Rhysand was certain the worst his brother looked was right after he joined them in the war camp as children, and during the first war.

Those two instances were nothing compared to the sight of Azriel now.

The Shadowsinger strode through the door of his office, reports in hand ready to drop them off as quickly as possible before vanishing again to Mother-knows-where. And the High Lord had to stop himself from flinching in his face when he took him in.

For lack of better description, Azriel looked dead. Like a walking, barely talking corpse. His previously gold-brown skin had turned nearly ashen, eyes bloodshot and void of any emotion. His leathers were clearly the same ones he had worn yesterday, and the day before that. And if Lord Devlon could see the way his wings dragged on the floor, he’d undoubtedly get a beating.

And Azriel would undoubtedly take it, like he took all the dangerous and borderline suicidal missions. With the air of someone who thought he deserved nothing more.

“Here, the summarized reports on Autumn and on Koshei.”, Azriel’s voice had gone rough with disuse. He placed the papers on Rhy’s desk, then stepping back to await another command.

Rhysand contemplated to force him into a vacation. But knowing Azriel, he’d take it as another insult. Standing by idly as he beat himself up had never been easy, and especially not now. “Have you seen your mother this week?”, he asked instead.

Azriel clearly turned suspicious by the abrupt change of topic. “No. Do you have anything more you need me to do?”

Rhys shook his head, levelling his eyes at Azriel’s. The will and sheer recklessness in them had always shocked the High Lord. And right now, he was worried that Azriel would purposefully hurt himself if he wasn’t given another task.

“You’ll receive my orders as soon as you saw your mother.”, he spoke slowly, letting it sink in.

The Shadowsinger raised his brows. “And why would I do that?”

“So she can talk some sense into you. Or beat it into you, whatever works.”, he shot back. Azriel had always reacted worse to coddling than to anger.

His brother snorted, his eyes flicking to the ceiling. “And why exactly do I need that?”

“Because I don’t want you destroying yourself, or Gwyn.”

Her name acted like an arrow to his chest. Azriel stumbled back, his aloof façade falling bit by bit, shadows tightening around him.

“I know you want to punish yourself. But take a step back and see that your behavior punishes others, too.”, Rhysand said carefully.

“I needed to do it.”, was all his brother replied, as cryptic and absent as never before. As he turned to leave the office, Rhysand prayed it wasn’t the last time he saw his brother alive.

 Azriel POV

Azriel flew. That’s what he’d been doing after the solstice party, after the confrontation with Gwyn, and it was all he would be doing for the rest of his life. It wasn’t exactly fun, more so a way to flee. He’ll never forgive himself for what he said to her, and he hoped she won’t do either.

That had been the plan, after all. To hurt her so badly, she’ll run and never turn back. Because what would await her with the bond acknowledged or even consummated might be the death of her. And Gwyn slowly withering and dying to keep their relationship going, to keep him in check, was the one thing in his miserable life that he couldn’t possibly take.

He flew for hours. Not feeling the cold or the fatigue creeping through his tired muscles. Maybe, if he did it long enough, that cold would settle in his heart, numbing it enough to live with the fact that he pushed her away. His closest friend, fiercest competition, the only true love he ever had. His mate.

His wings carried him all the way back home, working exclusively on muscle memory.

As soon as he landed in the blooming garden, bees and birds filling it with life, the front door banged open. And on the threshold stood his mother.

“Gods above, what happened to you?”, she greeted him, her usually melodic voice laced with concern and the slight edge of suspicion.

Azriel was at loss for words, just standing amidst the colorful plants like a thunderstorm about to rip them out by the root. “I have a mate.”

Malia’s nostrils flared the second the words left his mouth, confirming them as the truth. The scent of the bond was another factor driving him insane.

His mother gaped at him, took in his sickly skin, the exhaustion radiating off his body, and wordlessly gestured for him to come inside. She sat him down in the kitchen, busing herself with brewing some tea. Azriel knew it was her way of collecting her thoughts. If he were a better male, he’d do that as well instead of immediately lashing out. When her hands were no longer occupied, she sat before him.

“She rejected you, I assume.”, her words held no reproach, only the sadness of a mother who had to witness her boy breaking in front of her very eyes.

Azriel shook his head, not trusting his voice. His mother had that effect on him – she saw right through him until he couldn’t help but be vulnerable. Only one other person held that power over him. His body fought back a physical reaction at the mere thought of her.

“You rejected her because of your love for Gwyn?”, she guessed again, brows furrowing in confusion.

The Shadowsinger supported his arms on the table, letting his head fall between his hands. “It’s her. She is my mate. Gwyn.”

His mother sat back, eyes never leaving him. “Azriel, this is not the moment to let me ferret every piece of information out of you! If Gwyn is your mate, why are you currently not celebrating?”

He almost forgot what it felt like to cry. The last time he did it was when Rhys let himself be captured and bound under the mountain. Now, his hot tears burned a rivulet down his cheeks. If he let the single image of embracing and kissing his mate take root in him, he’d shatter.

He wasn’t celebrating because his mind didn’t let him.

“I-“, he started, failing to find appropriate words to describe the onslaught of feelings inside of him. He never expected anyone to support his decision, yet he yearned for understanding from his mother. “She knew for two years. And when the bond snapped for me on solstice, I panicked. I love her, and every single day I spent with her made me feel it more clearly. She was free to go anytime, and that thought calmed me. But-“, he stopped again, wiping the tears away and running his hands through his hair, “But then I got angry. Angry at the Mother, for shackling her to me like that. For ripping away her option out. I said some hurtful – devastating – things to her in my rage.”

At some point his mother had stood, rounding the table to sit closer beside him, her hand grasping his forearm in support. “You did it on purpose. To make her reject you.”

“Yes.”, he pressed his lips together.

“Why?”

Azriel took at deep breath. “Because Gwyn is everything. She is a Goddess, all the good in the world. She is bravery and strength and kindness. And I am fucking bastard. Who the hell decided we’re evenly matched? If we are to be mated, it will be the death of her. I will be the death of her.”

His mother went quiet for a bit, letting his words sink in, together with the excruciating pain that laced them. He hoped she’d understand. Or at least attempt to.

She didn’t.

“Stupid boy.”, gone was the concern in her voice, her face. Now he was again 12 years old and about to get a tongue lashing. “Stupid, blind boy.”  

Malia stood, her chair scraping back on the wooden floor. His mother was one to pace when she felt agitated. Agitation was a mild word for what she felt currently.

“Azriel. I have been begging you to take up counselling for centuries. What happened to you as a boy, and after under the past High Lord’s command, was enough trauma to damage 10 people, let alone one single male.”, her own eyes were filling with tears now. Regret and shame, he knew, for not finding a way to rescue him from her master. He shook his head at her words, trying to wordlessly soothe these feelings within her.

“Do you realize that you finally got what you always wanted? A headstrong, witted, understanding female that chose to be by your side. And you damaged the relationship beyond repair just because you felt the bond between you two? Because you think you are unworthy of her? That was not for you to decide!”, she scolded, each admission a stab to his gut. “The girl is not your counsellor, nor is she a punching bag you can throw your emotions at.”

She rubbed her forehead with her delicate fingers. It had been a few centuries since he was the reason for her headache. “The issue is that you both look at the same person with two completely different sets of eyes. Gwyn sees you how the rest of your family and friends see you: as a brave, smart, loyal male who carries a lot of pain with him. But that was never the problem, not for your brothers, for me or for Gwyn. You, on the other hand”, she stifled a sob, “I can’t comprehend the way you see yourself. You are so far gone in your own head that no one will ever share the opinion you have of yourself.”

He wanted to believe her so desperately. His heart yearned for the love she claimed everyone felt for him. But it wasn’t true. She said these things because she’s his mother.

Azriel just nodded, unsure of what to say.

Malia fell quiet for a while too, thinking and analyzing the situation further. Azriel only sat and stared. He felt nothing anymore. Finally.

“You need to speak to Gwyn”, she finally muttered, “not just to clear things up for her, but for your own health too.” The Shadowsinger had know how painful a strained bond could be. He’d endure it for her. He’d happily die if she finally decided to reject it.

“Go. And explain yourself as best as you can. Pray to the Mother she’ll hear you. Truly hear you. Listen to her opinion, then make a decision.”, Malia finally said, “Not many great things happened when you let only yourself be in charge of your life.”

 Gwyn POV

Two weeks had passed since she last saw him. The pain she felt by now wasn’t only the dull throb of her heart, no. Every cell of her body rebelled, screamed at her to find him, kiss him and tell him that everything was going to be okay. Gwyn took to taking ice-cold baths in the evening, cooling down her heated blood and numbing the sensations she just couldn’t control.

Tucked into bed, a romance novel in her hand, she pretended to read before falling into a fitful sleep. Nesta had asked her this morning what the book was about, Gwyn couldn’t recall.

As she turned another page, she cut her finger on the paper with the tremor that went through her. She felt him, felt the bond vibrate with his presence. He was in the house.

Right as she put the book down, a knock sounded at her door.

“May I come in?”

Tears started flowing at the first word he uttered. She croaked out a quiet ‘yes’, then he stepped inside.

Gwyn’s eyes widened at the sight of him, temporarily forgetting her own misery. He was practically a corpse, looking just as bad as she felt. But shame and hurt shone bright in his face as he took a tentative step in her direction.

The priestess leaped from the bed, crossing the space of the room in just a heartbeat, and enveloped him in her arms. Her body molded itself to his so tightly she couldn’t tell where she began and he ended. All she knew was his arms wrapping around her too, then his wings. The bond between them thrummed with the attention, and for a second, everything felt right. If she could pretend what he said never happened, she’d be happy. But the hurtful words he had thrown at her weighted heavy.

She untangled herself from him first, needing the physical distance to regain clarity. She wanted him back, that much was clear. But she also needed an explanation. And it better be a good one.

Gwyn sank on the edge of the bed, suddenly shy. How do you bridge the abyss that had opened up between them? She was saved from an answer by Azriel.

“I’ve come to talk to you. To make this right.”, he stumbled over the words in a manner she’d never seen from him before. When he struggled to continue after that, he began reaching in the pockets of his trousers.

She watched with rapt attention and slight confusion as he pulled out a folded sheet of paper.

“Since-“, he started, unfolding the paper with shaky hands, “since I’m shit at opening up in a conversation and I don’t trust myself with the importance of this, I have written down my thoughts. Is that okay?”

Gwyn narrowed her eyes. “I don’t want to read it. I need you to say it.”

The Shadowsinger was quick to nod. “Of course. This is just in case I mess up.”

Her heart squeezed together as she motioned at him to start. He looked so lost, so anxious that she wanted nothing more than hug him close again.

“My love,” he began reading, “when I found out we are mates, my first feeling was shock. Mostly because I hadn’t noticed during all this time we were together, but also because I didn’t believe it to be true. I apologize for winnowing away at that moment, for leaving you in this vulnerable position. My thoughts began to spiral and it became clear to me within minutes that I didn’t want you to acknowledge or accept the bond.”

He swallowed hard. Gwyn continued to stare at him. So that part was true. He didn’t want her to be his mate. The priestess thought she’d known heartbreak, but it had been nothing compared to what she felt now. Her lungs started seizing with effort to keep her breathing.

“I didn’t want you to accept it because then you’d have been shackled to me for your whole life. You’d have to deal with a male who constantly disappoints, who is too detached, too angry, too burdened with the past to ever be a good mate to you. I felt like I was about to kill you. Not intentionally, but with every one of my bad habits, after every return from a mission or visit to Hewn City, your soul would have yielded yet another piece to me. Because I know you’d try to help, to keep my mind out of the gutter.”

His voice quivered, as he continued reading. “I love you. I love you with all my heart. But I abhor myself. And that was all I saw when I met you again here. When I said-“, he stopped to collect himself, but didn’t shy away from the ugly truth, “I said that you couldn’t handle my occupation, the dark side of me that people are afraid of, but don’t really know. Until I die there won’t be a minute I’m not loathing myself for these words, for being the reason for your tears.”

“I know now that I had no business trying to manipulate you into rejecting me. It wasn’t my place to keep such an immeasurable decision from you. I apologize for that too.”

“The pain you must have felt these past days and weeks makes me feel even more ashamed about how I handled this situation. I thought I acted in your best interest, but it was really just my own ego protecting me from the prospect of letting you see the issues I carry around. I hope this explained my anger and confusion. I am so sorry.”

He had finished, discarding the wrinkled piece of paper on the small coffee table beside him. Then he kneeled before Gwyn’s legs, repeating. “I’m sorry, Gwyn. I know I don’t deserve you. Not now, and not before I fucked this up so badly. But please know that I never stopped loving you. My heart and soul belonged to you since you sliced the ribbon in training. Do with them as you wish.”

He bowed his head before her, his wings drooping to the floor on either side. Beaten, defeated and –

And hers.

Gwyn wiped away the silent tears that escaped her during his explanation, placing both hands on either side of his face. She forced his gaze upwards, forced him to hold hers. Now was not the moment to shy away anymore.

“Thank you for that, Azzy.”, her voice trembled almost as bad as her fingers, “I forgive you for panicking. I forgive you for disappearing on me.” She leaned forwards slowly, giving him time to move back should he want it, and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips. “I’m not sure yet if I can forgive your words.”

Azriel nodded his head, lips pressed together to keep his own emotions at bay.

“I love you too, Az. And not only because of this cauldron-damned bond, but because you have always been my hero. You impress me daily with you sharp mind, with your persistence, patience, and loyalty. You make me laugh, you challenge me to be better, you make me feel things I’d long forgotten.”

“I would have never rejected the bond.”, her voice grew firmer as his eyes flickered with disbelief, “You could have thrown anything at me, I would have never rejected you. I would have fought for this relationship, because I know you, the true you. And the male you showed up as these last weeks wasn’t him.”

The Shadowsinger nodded again, pain etching itself in every corner of his face. “It had gotten worse for a time, the chaos in my mind. Only with you it would sometimes lighten. But never for long.”

Gwyn’s thumbs stroked up and down his cheeks in a soothing manner. “I knew something was off, yet I didn’t do anything. I failed you in that regard. As did your brothers.”

“You did all you could. This is something I have to deal with myself. Speaking to me about my mood wouldn’t have led to anything other than an argument.”, he signed. “I took up counselling.”

Gwyn’s brows shot up, her fingers stopping their soothing movement. She had nagged him to try talking to a professional for some time, yet he always refused, claiming his busy schedule for not wanting to go. “Why?”

“So I could be a better brother, a better spymaster, not letting my emotions get the better of me. So I could be a better boyfriend, if you’ll still have me.”, he explained, flushing a little beneath his gaunt and pale cheeks. “The writing-down was a strategy my counsellor said I could use. I know it’s stupid. But better than hurting you again.”

Gwyn smiled. The first smile in what felt like forever. “It’s not. I’m glad you are doing this. But please also do it for yourself, not just so you can be of better service to others. You already are a great brother and uncle, you are brilliant at your job. You are so valued and loved beyond the position you hold.”

Azriel swallowed again. “Thank you.” After a short beat of silence, he added, “Will you still have me as your boyfriend? I’m not going to blame you if you wouldn’t.”

Gwyn waited to reply. It wasn’t like she had to actually think about her answer. She just needed a bit more groveling from him. “No.”

The Shadowsinger went still. Completely and utterly still beneath her fingers. Resignation began to settle in his eyes, and Gwyn decided to finally release him from his misery. “But I’ll have you as my mate.”

--

Three years later

Gwyn straightened the already perfect lengths of fabric around her skirt. Nervous was an understatement for what she felt, but it was still nothing compared to the love that radiated off her. Her face had started hurting from the permanent smile it wore. And yet, when she looked at herself for one last time in the mirror, it grew another fraction.

That’s what getting married to Azriel will do to you.

They had decided for a ‘first look’ before they went to the chapel together. It fit the couple perfectly, since they have always been private. Azriel’s first look at her should be exclusively for him.

Gwyn patted down the stairs to the living room of the town house, waiting for her soon-to-be husband.

They had come a long way since the moment their bond snapped for him. They remained boyfriend-girlfriend for a while after, not wanting to rush into a mating bond when both of them couldn’t yet give 100% to their partner. Azriel went to counselling twice a week, squeezing in more sessions when he knew he’d be gone for a week or two. He had worked hard – for himself, for her and his family – and he continued to put in the work. The six filled out journals he kept in his bedside table were testament to his consistency and will, his bravery in confronting his trauma. Gwyn was incredibly proud of him, and she told him so whenever he’d hear it.

The mating bond between them wasn’t yet consummated however. Gwyn still struggled with the frenzy aspect it brought with it, even though they were now well versed in each other’s bodies. But they had nothing but time.

“Gwyn!”, Nesta’s voice pulled her back to reality, “I bring you your husband.” She sounded ridiculously excited.

“Thank you Nes, I couldn’t possibly have found her without you.”, another amused voice chimed in. Gwyn’s body reacted to it immediately, goosebumps travelling up her spine.

Nesta snorted. “You needed this escort, admit it or not. Cassian said you barely managed to tie your own tie this morning.”

“My love, I hope you know you are marrying into a family full of busybodies.”, Azriel addressed her, still hidden from view behind the corner. Gwyn grinned, not only at their bickering, but at the prospect of officially belonging to his family in a few hours. Or rather, he in hers. Azriel Berdara just had such a nice ring to it, they couldn’t resist.

“This busybody is taking off now. Have fun – but not too much fun, please actually make it to the ceremony.”, her best friend warned, then clicked the door shut behind her.

The house filled with silence. Gwyn reveled in it, soaking up all the excitement.

“May I see you?”, his voice was already husky with emotion. Rhysand had joked the night before that Azriel will be the one to cry buckets during and after the ceremony, while they needed to contain Gwyn to keep her from bouncing off the walls with energy.

Gwyn positioned herself next to the fireplace, glancing on last time at her beautiful, simple white gown. Then she gave her okay.

Azriel rounded the corner to step into the living room, and Gwyn was sure none of them was breathing for an alarming amount of time. He looked stunning, handsome in the way a nice suit made you handsome. But the warmth and love radiating off him put him on a different level. Gwyn resisted the urge to pinch herself at the thought that he was to be hers. Married for now, mated for later.

Azriel himself mirrored her expression, eyes filling with tears as he took her in.

“Like what you see, Shadowsinger?”, her voice was meant to be teasing, but it came out softer than anticipated. Wanting his approval, she realized.

Azriel swallowed hard, crossing the room until he stood right in front of her. His scarred hand caressed her cheek, eyes wide in wonder. He took in her half-up, half-down arranged hair with little pearls braided in, her light glowing make-up, and lastly, the delicate lace covering her shoulders.

“I had thought about what kind of compliment I was going to give you in this moment, but I have forgotten all of them.”

Gwyn smiled. “I’ll give you some time till the end of the day. But then I want compliments to rival the greatest poets in history.” Azriel chuckled, reaching for her hands to intertwine them with his. “You look perfect Shadowsinger.”

Gwyn could swear he actually blushed a little. So she went on, ever the partner to enjoy his squirming. “You look like mine.”

“That’s because I am.”, he simply replied. And now they stood their like idiots, grinning at each other with pink blooming on both their faces.

Gwyn reached up on her tiptoes, kissing her Shadowsinger for what felt like the first time. The butterflies in her tummy exploded at the taste of his lips. The bond between them sang and glowed, knowing how far they’ve come. Azriel reciprocated the kiss with a tenderness that rivalled hers, slowly gliding his tongue against her until she opened up for him.

The priestess was just about to forget the warning Nesta threw at them as Azriel pulled back, her lip-gloss smeared across his mouth.

“I know I say this all the time and I feel like I need stronger words for the feeling I’m trying to express – but, I love you.”, he said softly.

“Oh, I know Shadowsinger.”, she giggled, “But I’m still going to need proof of that.”

Azriel raised a brow, fighting to keep his own smile off his lips. “And how will I prove it?”

“I’ve got some ideas,” Gwyn mused, “First, you’ll go with me to the chapel to swear this apparent undying love for me forever. After that you are going to dance with me throughout the whole celebration, and then…” Her eyes sparkled with mirth. “Then you’ll do everything and anything I ask of you for the rest of the night.”

He simply lifted on of her hands up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to it. A kiss that promised exactly what she’d asked from him. “Forever at your service, priestess.”

Azriel pulled her forward, holding his arm out for her to take. Gwyn placed her own hands on his offered arm, feeling the strength hidden underneath the pristine suit. Ready to get married. They walked all the way to the chapel together, arms linked, steps aligned like only two people who are attuned to each other can. The best part was that this was only the beginning.

#gwynriel #pro gwynriel #Azriel #acotar #gwyneth berdara #Gwyn #gwyn x azriel #azriel x gwyn #acotar writing #gwynriel writing

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

Currently working on something thats going to either snap your heart in two, or make you want to go punch something. For me, its both. 😂 canon compliant Azriel is coming your way, with every infuriating character trait he has to offer

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

@gwynweekofficial Day 7: Free day

I am so happy to have worked with poppypola_ (instagram) on a piece with Gwyn and her mate. Azriel may be Gwyn’s new ribbon, but I believe she is the only character in the series that can help Azriel with true healing. They will help each other heal, and I can not wait to read their journey.

Thank you so much to poppypola_

For creating such beautiful art for this fandom, and this comforting piece for me.

Only poppypola_ and @gwynweekofficial to repost, please reshare 🦋🩵

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

Blessed Be - Gwynriel One-Shot in Celebration of Gwynweek2023

Gwyn’s future will be bright, I just know it. She is one of the strongest characters in the Acotar fandom, and I can’t wait to see what SJM has in store for her story. That being said, you know I’m a Gwynriel shipper - this one-shot is both a celebration of them getting together, as well as a celebration of Gwyn as she is growing into her skin. 

Day 6: Future; @gwynweekofficial​ 

If you don’t like having religion dragged into any type of sexual situation, this one isn’t for you! In no way am I trying to be disrespectful to any religion or religious practice... I just read too much priest smut lol. 

Warnings: roleplay dynamics (priestess-sinner), bondage, wing play, orgasm denial, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, witnessing me going to hell for this  

Word count: 7k oh my- get comfy

I mean it. Get off if you feel uncomfortable.

“Az, have you seen my veil?”

Gwyneth Berdara, Valkyrie and priestess of the Night court, stood in the center of her and Azriel’s shared bedroom, already clad in the dusty blue layers of her robe, her invoking stone around her neck, hair neatly clipped out of her face. The sun hadn’t yet peeked over the horizon. This time of morning was her favorite – quiet, consoling, the perfect opportunity to cast your gaze inwards and give thanks. She was ready for the dawn service underneath the house of wind to do said things with her sisters – if she could find her veil in time and pin it in place.

Azriel, still in a haze from the night, simply pointed to the bathroom from his place on the bed. This was one of the many perks of living with the Shadowsinger: your missing things never went missing for long.

With a swish of her robes, her auburn hair trailing behind her, she made her way to the bathroom, tracking down her veil with only a little pointer from the shadows. In a few minutes most of her hair was swept behind, only the very front of her hairline a shock of color against the soft, blue fabric. Right in the middle, Gwyn thought with a heavy heart while looking in the mirror, would be the place for her invoking stone. She felt the outline of it now, pressing insistently against the skin of her chest, taunting her with its presence. She hadn’t worn it again after her sister died. She wouldn’t start wearing it now.

Sufficiently pleased with her appearance, Gwyn moved back to her side of the bed with silent steps, not wanting to jostle Azriel out of bed just yet. He technically had more time to sleep before he joined her in training, but he also couldn’t resist the opportunity to spend more time with his mate in the early hours of the morning. Not that Gwyn complained – a sleepy, disheveled Azriel was such a deliciously devilish sight it made her hurry to service every morning without fail.

From the little table perched by the bed she pulled her copy of the Sacred Manuscript, flipping it open to the page she had marked the day before.

Azriel had asked her once why she sometimes studied the Manuscript and prayed in the quiet of her room before doing the same at the official service. Gwyn didn’t really know why – only that some days, her mind rested easier, her focus remained sharper, when she did some extra reading all by herself. Both her forearms perched on the bed, her hands joining together as she knelt before her Gods and Goddesses and gave her gratitude and prayers.

Praying had always been a part of her life. It made you feel small, almost insignificant against the big workings of the universe, in turn lifting some of the stress off your shoulders. At the same time it singled you out, made you feel special and protected wherever you went. She didn’t stop praying after Sangravah. Her Gods hadn’t left her, instead giving her a hardship to overcome with grace and strength.

Azriel sometimes joined her, having never been particularly religious beyond the basic rituals the Illyrians taught their race. Or he would watch with half-closed eyes, waiting for her to be ready and engulfing her in his arms one more time before he started the day himself.

This particular morning, he watched again, his gaze trailing over her face. Gwyn could sense he was more awake than just a second before. The bond pulsing between them was more than clear on that. It was the third or fourth time this week she noticed his unusually focused stare, but thought nothing of it, deep in her own thoughts.

With her mind sufficiently settled, her heart light with divine blessing, she kissed Azriel on the cheek and made her way downstairs, through the library and into the chapel.

If she had lingered one more minute in the bedroom, she’d have noticed the scent now emanating in waves from her mate. He had done his best to keep it contained while she was praying, but couldn’t tear his eyes away from her to save his life. Seeing Gwyn pray has been his very own form of torture this past week, one he could only escape through either feigning sleep, or venturing in the bathroom to take a very long, very cold shower.

Gwyn should gut him for even thinking the depraved thoughts that raced through his mind when he saw her dressed in full priestess attire, one more vivid and consuming than the other. He imagined her standing before him, her robes brushing against his knees as he sank to the ground in front of her. He imagined how she’d either bless him or punish him, and he honestly didn’t know which one he liked better. He imagined her astride of him, her robes discarded save for the invoking stone between her breasts, as she chased her own high – using him and his body for her own pleasure.

His desire burned so deep that he had no other choice than to take care of himself before getting dressed, hating every second of his own hand now that he knew how his mate’s hand felt instead. surely sensed his frustration, followed by a little spike of satisfaction, through the bond. He hoped she wouldn’t comment on it.

Azriel didn’t have to worry. They saw each other only sporadically throughout the day. During training, Gwyn stayed in the advanced group with Cassian while Azriel instructed the never-ending inflow of new recruits – some priestesses, some Illyrian girls straight from the camps. By the time he trudged upstairs to his and Gwyn’s bedroom after a long day of work, he was sure his mate had forgotten all about the mixed emotions she must have felt through the bond this morning.

“Hi, Shadowsinger!”, Gwyn’s melodic voice greeted him the moment he set foot into the room. He liked it. Loved it, even, to now come home to a room filled with love and light.

Azriel stalked through the space in only three steps before reaching the bathroom and finding his rightful place between Gwyn’s legs, who sat perched on the counter of the sink.

The deep, slow kiss he gave her in greeting spoke volumes about how much he missed her, craved her. Taking the edge off this morning apparently did nothing for a male when he was mated to Gwyneth Berdara. Gwyn wrapped her slender arms around his neck, prolonging the kiss. As if she couldn’t get enough either. Mate, mate, mate. His heart sang to hers.

“I like this kind of ‘hello’.”, she smiled against his lips, her fingers tangling through his hair and lightly scratching his scalp.

Azriel closed his eyes at her ministrations, only mumbling his answer in return. “You should wait until I show you how I say ‘I love you’.”

Gwyn snickered. “Hopefully by feeding me cake.”

Azriel opened one of his eyes, playfully glaring at her through it. “A damn cake? Are you really that easy to satisfy, priestess?”

Gwyn stopped her massage, much to Azriel’s chagrin, and placed her hands on his chest instead. “A little sugar goes a long way with me.”, her face neared Azriel’s again, her nose brushing his gently, “And it has a 100% rate of satisfying me. Unlike other things.”

Two scarred hands grabbed hers and flung them away from his chest in mock affront. Gwyn had already started laughing before he could open his mouth in defense. One fucking time of cumming before her, and he never heard the end of it. Even though his mate had gotten her orgasm through other ways after.

“I don’t want you to talk to me for the rest of the evening, Gwyneth.”, he put extra emphasis on her full name, showing her exactly that she overstepped dearly. Menace.

Gwyn just jumped off the counter, sashaying over to where he stood, arms crossed. She cooed at him while stroking his arms. The action could have been described as caring, if it weren’t for the big, shit-eating grin on her face. Azriel flexed when her arms travelled over his biceps. Just a little. Lest she forget that he was more than capable of making her cum.

“Poor baby. Getting so salty when I dare to question his manliness.”, she petted his forearm, “What might I do to make you feel better, my mate?”

Azriel had some suggestions lined up in his mind, the images from this morning right at the forefront. But he couldn’t possibly voice those. Not with her faith, not considering the immense compromise she’s already making by indulging him in some of his kinkier fantasies.

But he didn’t ban the thoughts quick enough. Just this one second of picturing Gwyn dominating him and his heartrate spiked, his scent with it. Gwyn noticed. She was too damn observant these days.

“Ohh.”, she breathed out, her head angled to the side and searching his face for answers. “That was what I felt this morning. It’s your scent, but muted. Why would you mute your scent from me?”

Gwyn had noticed the weird behavior from her mate. Noticed the prolonged stares and his quick change in demeanor when she caught onto him. But she was his love. If one person might deal with that kind of thing, it was her. The self-doubt started creeping up on her slowly, but surely.

“I just didn’t want you to be late for your service.”, Azriel said quietly. But the answer had taken him too long for her liking. What if he didn’t want her anymore and rather satisfied himself? Gwyn was more than elated with that side of their relationship, even venturing out beyond anything she could have imagined for herself. But was he?

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Are you unhappy with the way we are intimate?”

His face crumpled, she noticed with relief. He hides genuine emotion slower, or he doesn’t hide it at all with her. “Are you kidding me, Gwyn? Of course not!”

His arms uncrossed from his chest, instead drawing Gwyn into a hug. “I’ve never been happier my whole life. And that goes for all aspects of this relationship.” He kissed the top of her hair.

Gwyn was happy to hear that, especially considering that she had to ‘compete’ against an army of past lovers. But it didn’t explain his behavior. “I’m glad. But why did you suppress it then? I could have gone to service, then meet you before training.”

Azriel signed, contemplating, while his hands brushed up and down her back. After a while, he took a deep breath, and Gwyn was slightly scared at what was about to come out of her mate’s mouth.

“I was fantasizing about you in a different way. Didn’t want you to find out. Because you might have discovered the root of that fantasy if you paid attention.”

Gwyn furrowed her brows, craning her neck to look at her Shadowsinger. “Since when are you hesitant to voice fantasies?”

Sure, he was a private person. But not with her. And given the track record of her agreeing with whatever thing he wanted to try, he shouldn’t be hiding it. Gwyn scolded herself for the thought the second she had it. Just because he was her mate and usually open with any act of intimacy didn’t mean he owed her an answer for everything. Before he could indulge her in a reply, she stepped out of the hug, shaking her head. “I apologize. I don’t want to press you for answers if you are not ready to give them.”

She had already turned to go to bed when his rough hand found hers, gently tugging her back. His features were still set in contemplation, his mind probably working on the mildest way to communicate his wishes. “The sight of you praying,” he started carefully, “and the way you dress for services, that’s what triggered it.”

Gwyn’s breath caught in her throat. Never would she have thought that that was the reason for his fantasy. She raised her brow in question, hoping he’d elaborate.

“I was thinking about how – Gods, this is more difficult than I though.”, he chuckled to himself. Gwyn didn’t understand. The outfit she wore was common, modest. And she had worn it often, even before they were mated.

“Remember the book you read last week? About the couple who pretended to be boss and employee and then had sex while pretending?”, he asked instead. Now Gwyn was utterly confused.

“Yes?”, she said, flushing a bit at the memory of that book. And Azriel teasing her with its contents.

“Well, it’s like that. A kind of roleplay. Just instead of boss and employee, it would be priestess and parishioner.”, he started to speak faster now, as if he wanted to get as much of his thoughts out before she stopped him. “Usually it involves a dominant-submissive dynamic. In this case you’d be the dominant part. And you’d be wearing you priestess attire during the play. I know it’s weird and probably violates your faith in ways I can’t even imagine, but that’s what it was. I didn’t mean to hide it because of trust reasons, I only meant to save myself from embarrassment.”

Gwyn stopped his rambling with a raised hand, eyes wide. “Allow me to clarify: seeing me in my robe and veil turns you on and you’d like to have me dominate you while wearing them?”

Azriel nodded slowly, searching Gwyn’s face and the bond for any signs of judgement – be it good or bad.

“And it would be within a roleplay that made you a parishioner, and me your priestess?”

“Essentially.”, one of his beautiful hands reached back to scratch his neck. She never saw him display so many signs of nerves before. Never.

“I’m sorry. I’ll never bring it up again. I already feel better now that you know, and I’ll get it out of my system eventually.”, he pecked her cheek, conversation ended, and headed to change for bed himself.

Gwyn was still stunned, not quite knowing how to deal with it. She was thankful he didn’t press her for any thought either, because she had too many. She was flattered, confused, and intimidated all at once. That he wanted to use her faith that way didn’t bother her. After all, the Mother and her Gods supported sexual freedom among the priestesses, and that surely extended to the religion itself. But was she ready to command a force of nature like Azriel in bed?

She wanted to laugh at the mental image of her restraining him, taunting him like he had done so many times now. But the laughter never came. Instead, a wave of warmth filled her stomach, spreading through her chest and core. The longer she allowed herself to dwell on it, the easier the request settled within her.

When she lay in bed next to her mate after her evening routine, the room already painted in the comforting darkness of night, she was sure she could do it. At least to some capacity. “Azriel?”

“Mh?”

“I was thinking.”, she started, her voice quiet but determined, “I could do it. Be your priestess, I mean.”

She felt Azriel sit up straight next to her, the mental link to him going just as taunt as his body.

“You could?”, was all he asked, angling his powerful form in her direction to seek her gaze through the shadows.

“Well, maybe with a tiny modification?”

-

And that’s how, with some days of mental preparation, Gwyn found herself in front of the bathroom mirror, veiling herself like she normally would. She had tied her robes, like she normally did, her invoking stone resting against her chest. All perfectly normal.

What was hidden underneath the robe, though, was anything but.

Azriel and her had agreed, at the end, that they’d both switch between dominant and submissive. Her mate would start off in his signature role, then easing Gwyn into her power. They’d agreed on a vague storyline, too, and had spoken about some rules. Azriel’s eyes had been practically glowing when he talked her through his fantasy, growing more and more excited with every affirmative nod Gwyn gave. He had truly looked like a child on winter solstice. And after they were done discussing, he had undressed her slowly and reverently, and made love to her until they both fell asleep, tangled in each other’s embrace.

As Gwyn looked at herself once more in the mirror, she couldn’t help her own excited smile. As unusual as this would be for her, making her mate happy like that did something for her in return. And the fact that she had an ace up her sleeve helped with the nerves too.  

She knew he was coming before the door creaked open, his heady scent cutting though the chill winter night. His shadows were first to reach her, as always, winding up her bejeweled wrist in silent greeting.

Stepping out of the bathroom, she faced her Shadowsinger.

He was leaning against the wall, clad in his usual all black attire, hair slightly disheveled from his day of work. Everything about him seemed perfectly normal, too. Everything but his eyes.

His gaze was intense, set on her form the second she stepped over the threshold, raking over her body in anticipation. Months ago, she’d have cowered under attention like that, especially from someone as powerful as him. Now, her spine straightened and her lips curled. Plan or not, she already had the upper hand right now, and she felt the power surge through every cell of her being.

She hadn’t even shown him the main attraction yet.

“What a pleasure to welcome you here, Shadowsinger.”, Gwyn greeted him in her best soft and demure voice. She tried to simulate the melody her High Priestess took on during rituals – feminine, but confident. “To what do I owe the honor?”

Azriel smiled for a split second, unable to keep his emotions hidden for once. Then, his features shifted into the cold mask of the Shadowsinger, and with a few self-assured steps, he stood right in front of Gwyn.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve received the blessing of a priestess.”, he spoke his part of their little play, voice already going raspy, “Especially from one as beautiful as you.” His scarred hand found her cheek, cradling her face in its warmth and comfort.

His words struck a chord in Gwyn that she was unable to name. The way he looked at her, like she was his salvation and only purpose in life, made her heart race. Azriel had a way with making her feel special, beautiful. Even before they were mated, his words helped in building up her confidence. Now, with him practically eating her up with his eyes… Gwyn smiled a little innocent smile.

And then grabbed his wrist with unrelenting strength. “I wasn’t aware that I allowed you to touch me, Shadowsinger.”

Surprise flitted across his face at her words and as she forced his hand off her face. Then, taking a respectful step back, he said. “I apologize, priestess.”

“Mh.”, Gwyn assumed a pensive look, stepping forward, which in turn made Azriel take another step back. Her hand found his chest, pushing him further until his back hit the wall, wings shifting to accommodate.

It was strange, how this massive male was so easily controlled by the priestess. Gwyn had to admit that she loved every second of it.

“Azriel Shadowsinger – I know it is a blessing that you seek,”, her fingertips travelled feather-light across the expanse of his chest as she spoke, “but given your rather infamous reputation, I think our Mother deserves a confession before she is ready to give the salvation you came here for.”

Gwyn stopped, looking at his face for any signs of discomfort, checking if this change of plans was okay with him. What she saw was a Shadowsinger in awe, eyes wide and focused like a doe in the headlights. She took the time to check if he was still breathing. And then, the connection between them opened, their bond pulsing with his need and her excitement. He must have had a dampener on it until now, only releasing it so Gwyn knew exactly how much he wanted this, needed this. “You’ll get anything you want from me, priestess.”

He made it easy for her then.

“But I’m afraid I have nothing to confess.”

Or not. Doing anything with Azriel was a struggle for dominance, she should have known he was in the mood to make her work for it. Admittedly, she did that to him from time to time too. Well, a lot of the time. Gwyn eyed up his Shadows who were watching raptly, waiting for something to happen. And a plan formed.

“Nothing?”, Gwyn whispered, raising on her tiptoes to make her lips brush lightly over his, eyes never breaking their contact. For all his defiance, he didn’t dare move to kiss her. “How disappointing.”

She nodded to his Shadows, praying they got her intention right. And in a split second, Azriel was moved from the wall to the foot of the bed, facing the room. His arms spread up to either side, restrained by his very own shadows. The tunic he was previously wearing seemed to have been lost in the process too.

Gwyn barely suppressed her smile. She was going to have the time of her life with this.

“I guess that some people need a little push to face their sins.”, she said, her eyes travelling languidly over his tanned, tattooed skin. Her hands reached for the ties of his trousers, daftly starting to work on them.

Azriel got cocky now, sure that if Gwyn untied his trousers, she’d find a way to ‘punish him’ using her mouth on him. What he didn’t know was that Gwyn anticipated that thought and had no plans whatsoever to be the one kneeling tonight.

“Like I told you, priestess, I have no sins to confess. As much as I would like to please you.”

Gwyn stopped her movement on his laces. She worked them open just enough to make a little room for the rock-hard length they retained, but didn’t touch him otherwise. Then she fell back, out of reach, sitting on the edge of their small armchair.

With steady hands, she untied the belt that held together her robes around her waist. And when the fabric slid to either side, revealing the lace underneath it, Azriel looked like he regretted his sassiness very much.

Gwyn had put on a light blue bodysuit underneath, basically see-through despite the delicate scraps of lace. The leg was cut so high, her hips were practically naked, showing off her long legs. Her invoking stone completed the look, resting perfectly between her breasts.

Some shadows came slithering forward, dragging the heavy robe off her shoulder completely.

Azriel let out a raspy sound at the sight of her that sounded suspiciously like a whimper, hazel orbs flying over her form nearly frantically.

“I take that back-“

Gwyn just raised a hand, and Azriel fell silent once more. “You will not be allowed to speak to me unless I allow it.”

Azriel swallowed, then nodded. She wasn’t sure he blinked even once after she let the robe fall open for him.

With a newfound confidence and grace, Gwyn pushed herself off the chair, swaying her hips on the way over to her bound Shadowsinger. She let her fingernails scratch over his abs, grazing the hairs that led to the part of him he desperately wanted her to touch. After giving him a lingering kiss on the neck, right where his shoulder joined a strong column of muscle, she gave her first order of the night. “Spread your wings for me, Azriel.”

He gaped at her, pupils blowing impossibly wide. And then his mighty wings started moving, expanding to either side of him, baring the sensitive membrane for Gwyn to command.

Gwyn hummed at the sight, letting her nails travel up and over his shoulder, reaching for the wing behind. “They are so pretty, aren’t they?”

With another quick agreement between her and his shadows, Gwyn suddenly stood on the bed behind Azriel, in full view of his wings, the feather he sometimes used for writing in her hand. She let the softest part of it touch the place where his wings connected to his back, brushing it up and down gently.

“So strong and beautiful.”, she murmured, letting the feather caress every inch of skin and membrane. The tips of his wings twitched already, Azriel’s breathing going irregular. Gwyn smiled to herself. “But so sensitive.”

She leaned forward, pressing kisses along the skin connecting his wings to his back, sometimes letting her tongue dart out to give it a little lick. Then, she honed in on his left wing, dragging her fingertips along the endless expanse of membrane.

Before her, Azriel let out a ragged breath. “Gwyn, please.”

Gwyn stopped her movement. A few minutes in and he was already begging? “I didn’t know we were on a first name basis.” Her hand wrapped around the strong column of his neck from her position behind him, squeezing slightly and leaning forward. Her lips poised right by his ear, she whispered, “You will address me as ‘priestess’. Any deviation will lead to a punishment. Did I make myself clear?”

Azriel nodded, as best as he could while his neck was held by her. But Gwyn decided he needed to taste his own medicine. Squeezing harder, she added, “I asked you a question, Shadowsinger.”

She felt him swallow beneath her palm, then his voice vibrated along her hand. “I understand, priestess.”

A little kiss on his neck as a reward, then Gwyn was back to teasing his wings. Alternating between the feather, her fingers and her lips, the priestess covered the whole expanse of his wings with attention. She honed in on the extra sensitive parts, dragging her nails over them again and again until the skin of his back was covered in goosebumps. Gwyn was sure he was close to cumming about two to three times, but whenever he started to shake and moan the priestess quickly withdrew her fingers. Need pulsed through the bond with an intensity she never expected. Just as he started to sag slightly, his Shadows having to hold him up, Gwyn decided to play nice for a second.

“I think I am ready to hear your confession, now, sinner.”

His head shot up, sensing his opportunity to cum. With his voice low and breathy, he finally played his part. “I – I confess to having depraved thoughts. I confess that I never needed anything more in my life than to fuck this special priestess of mine. Even though I am not sure she wants it as well.”  

Gwyn’s own blood boiled at the admission. Probably because it was definitely not something he thought of just now. “That sounds sinful indeed. Tell me, Shadowsinger, have these thoughts been weighing heavy and hard on you?”

“They did – they do. Please, priestess. Relieve me of them.”, he ground out, probably sensing her own arousal through the bond as well. She needed to be careful with unbinding him, she thought as he started to tremble with need.

“With the Mother’s blessing, so will you be relieved.”, she whispered against his neck, giving it a few lingering kisses before resuming her caresses on his wings. His talons, sitting perched at the top of them, deserved some special treatment. She moved her mouth over to his right talon, brushing her lips over the hard surface. A swear escaped Azriel at the touch.

He had told her once that the talon might as well be the equivalent to his cock. If handled gently, he’d be able to cum just from that. Gwyn was about to test that theory.

Enclosing her mouth completely over the talon, she started to suck. Her tongue swirled over it, licking up and down and coating it in salvia. She knew it didn’t take long now. After just a few seconds of gentle sucking, he came undone. As Gwyn peeked over Azriel’s shoulder, she saw him explode, muscles contracting from head to toe and cumming right into his trousers.

He panted heavily, barely hanging onto the shadowy restraints. If this is what Azriel felt like whenever he made her cum in a vulnerable position like that, she began to understand his preferences.

Moving around the Illyrian to face his front again, Gwyn cupped his face with both of her hands and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, reaffirming her love to him without having to use her words. Azriel looked up to her, hazel eyes molten and wet with unshed tears. She flashed him an alarmed glance at the sight – the bond hadn’t informed her of any pain or discomfort despite the obvious frustration. Azriel just grinned back, shaking his head slightly. Warmth and love seeped through the bond – I’m okay, it seemed to whisper to her.

“The shadows will release you now. You’ll get rid of the rest of your clothes as soon as they do.”, stepping back, voice again going firm, she watched as the shadows did as she commanded. Azriel had regained most of his strength back and went to work as his hands were freed.

Gwyn moved over to the chair, sprawling on it with an ease she didn’t really feel. Especially after seeing Azriel’s length spring free, slapping against his stomach as he was either aroused again or never really stopped being aroused, she felt more than hot and more than ready to give in. But he would make her work for it harder, so that’s exactly what she was going to do to him, too.

Raising her hand, she moved her pointer finger in a ‘come hither’ motion. Azriel obeyed, if not dragging his feet at bit to be annoying. When he stood right in front of her, her finger simply pointed downward. The command was clear, and the Shadowsinger sank onto his knees before the priestess.

It was a sight to behold. The mountain of a male, scars littering his skin and power pulsing in every inch of him, had his head bowed in reverence, his hands resting on his knees. Between them, his hardness still looked to be kind of painful, oozing pre-cum that mixed with the actual cum from before. She didn’t allow him to clean himself, but he didn’t seem to mind too much. He waited, preternaturally still.

“Aren’t you so good for me?”, she said gently, watching his cock twitch at her words. Gwyn leaned forward, spreading her legs to enclose the Shadowsinger’s form inbetween her. Her hand sneaked out to lift his chin, his eyes instantly finding hers.

“I think you deserve a reward, mh?”

Azriel nodded slightly, lips parted.

“What do you wish for?”, she asked, feeling extra generous. His damned face did that to her. She didn’t understand how he stayed so firm and harsh when the roles were reversed.

Azriel’s eyes travelled from her face, all the way down her body, to her wet core. “May I please you, priestess?”

Gwyn’s own breath turned ragged at his words, her heartbeat quickening. She hadn’t even noticed her own need, so absorbed in every moved of his. But she tried to attain a façade of boredom when she nodded and scooted forward, right to the edge of the chair. “Make me cum.”

Azriel’s hands came forward to wrap around her calves, gently nudging her legs open even more. Then his lips began to trail a way from the inside of her knees all the way across her inner thighs. He was so soft, so reverend in the way he caressed her skin. Repeating the motion on her other leg, he began stroking his hands up and down her calves. Until his face was poised right in front of her core.

“Go ahead, Shadowsinger. Be good to me.”, Gwyn breathed, hopefully sounding more in charge of the situation as she felt.

His nostrils flared, probably taking in her considerable wetness. And then, he started kissing her. Gwyn’s whole upper body fell back on the chair, only her hips remaining in place to receive his attention. Even though his lips and her skin were separated by the thin layer of lace, she felt every brush of his mouth, his heat, on her. It sent fireworks right up her spine. After a few seconds, her bodysuit was already soaked, revealing the outline of her pussy to him.

He honed in on her clit, sucking it in between his teeth and then resuming his languid, open-mouthed kisses on her. Gwyn’s hand found it’s way to his hair, pressing him into her further. Azriel groaned into her wetness, applying more pressure now.

After another minute of the delicious torture, she reached for the fabric covering her crotch and pulled it aside. “Another reward.”

The next touch of his tongue nearly undid her all by itself. Azriel wasted no time, licking up and down her slit, circling and sucking her clit with never-ending patience. He grabbed onto her ankles and brough both of her legs to rest on his shoulder while he worked her expertly, drawing little moans and whimpers out of her in the process. His hot tongue eventually found her entrance, circling it and dipping in ever so slightly. Gwyn was so wet, she probably stained the chair underneath her.

As he began plunging his tongue deep inside her, stroking her inner walls, his hand came up to her core as well, rubbing her clit in tandem with his mouth fucking her. Gwyn was completely gone at this point and only needed one, two more brushes of his tongue to come undone.

With a loud moan, her walls spasming around his tongue, Gwyn arched her back off the chair and came right into his mouth. Azriel’s answering moan vibrated along her pussy, drawing out her own release even longer. It might have been the most intense orgasm she’d ever had. When she couldn’t take the stimulation anymore, she shoved Azriel’s face away from her.

“Go-“, forming words had become hard for the priestess, “Go and lie on the bed.”

Azriel stood on slightly shaky legs, obeying without any show of resistance this time. Gwyn took it as a sign that he was just as far gone as her, but she needed another moment to collect herself, to not break character and just let him manhandle her for the rest of the night.

After her breath had returned to normal, her desire muted but not gone, she stood from the chair herself. She peeled the bodysuit off her skin, now only wearing the stone and her veil.

Azriel waited for her patiently, lying on his back, wings spread underneath him. As Gwyn crawled up over his legs, her body brushed his cock, forcing a curse out if his mouth at the contact.

Gwyn tutted at him, now straddling him without connecting their intimate parts. “I don’t care for your filthy words, not when you are about to receive what you came here for.”

The Shadowsinger took her in now, completely bare on top of him. She must have looked possessed at this point, skin flushed with desire and heat, eyes glowing. Whatever he saw in her made him swallow again. “Please, priestess.”

Gwyn smiled down at him, brushing his sweat soaked hair from his face and caressing his cheek. She leaned down to connect their lips in a searing kiss, her tongue stroking his. When she drew back, a wicked thought crossed her mind.

“Shadowsinger”, she started and waited before he trained his eyes on her, visibly fighting with himself to remain submissive and not just fuck into her, “Do you know the prayer of forgiveness?”

The Shadowsinger nodded, biting his lip. If she’d have asked him for the moon on a string in that moment, he’d have flown up to the sky in seconds.

“Then recite it for me, for our Goddess. So that you might find your blessing.”

She smiled, actually curious if he’d remember.

“Holy Mother, blessed be-“, he started with a shaky voice.

“Stop.”, Gwyn’s fingers danced on his chest as he tried so hard to pray for her. “Be loud and clear, my love. Otherwise you have to start over.”

Azriel ground out a breath that would have been a curse had he not a little slither of control left.

“Holy Mother,” he started again, this time firmer, “blesses be Your divine power and blessed be the fruit of thy womb”

“Good”, Gwyn murmured absentmindedly. Then she sank down on his cock, not taking it in her yet but rather between her lower lips, rocking back and forth. Azriel lost it immediately, stopping his prayer and moving his hips at the first bit of friction he received all night. Gwyn shot him a stern look that made him go still immediately, letting his priestess control the movement.

“I justly deserve to be cast away from Thy presence.”, he continued, eyes switching between being closed in pleasure and cast up towards Gwyn’s face and body. “Yet-“

Gwyn sat up again, grabbing his slick cock with her hand and positioning it at her entrance. “Yet?”

Azriel fought for dear life. “Yet out of Your abundant love and mercy-“

Gwyn sank down on him, engulfing his length in her heat completely. She let out a loud moan while Azriel practically shouted the last word at her, abs contracting and shaking with restraint and pleasure. That she spread his own cum in herself probably didn’t help his situation either.

“You were saying?”, Gwyn giggled, breathless but so incredibly full it made her happy.

“Mercy.”, was all he said, before his memory gave out. The priestess was a forgiving female though.

“I pray for Forgiveness for my sins.”, she recited for him, slowly rocking back and forth and driving him absolutely insane.

Azriel repeated after her, then remembered the last bit of the prayer himself. Gwyn guessed it was some kind of survival mode that kicked in at this point.

“Let your wisdom pierce my heart, and let my heart be changed.”, he prayed quickly and with a voice close to gravel. “Please...”

His eyes found Gwyn’s, and if she hadn’t thought he looked at her like she was the Goddess he prayed to, she sure as hell did now.

“Please cleanse me, Gwyneth, with your sweet love.”

This was the last straw. Gwyn moaned loudly, now moving on his cock in earnest. Azriel’s head fell back on the sheets, done with his work, and let her use him – give him as much as she wanted and deigned appropriate. The priestess felt every ridge and vein of his proud length in her as she rode him with abandon, her necklace and breasts moving with her passion.

“Azriel, touch me.”, she groaned, already reaching for his hands and placing them on her body herself, too impatient to let his slow mind process her words on his own.

It didn’t take long for Gwyn to feel the pressure building in her lower belly, coiling tighter and tighter with every bounce on his cock. She was impressed that her Shadowsinger held it together that long when she knew he must be close as well, and had been close for the past half-hour.

“Gwyn, please.”, he pleaded from underneath her, now tilting his lips in time with hers, chasing his own high.

“Cum, Shadowsinger.”, her last command of the night was barely spoken when Azriel arched his back, shouting profanities and her name into the room and coating her insides with his essence. That was all Gwyn needed to feel before she, too, released the tightness within her. Gasping and panting for air, she let herself fall onto his chest, her head finding the crock of his neck to rest.

She felt to spent, so completely elated she might as well be floating on air. She watched with rapt attention how Azriel’s chest went from frantic movement to the slow and steady rise and fall she was used to. Then, she raised her head. “Why don’t we take a nice bath, mh?”

The house was listening in it seemed, as she heard the faucet turn on in the neighboring room. With care and slowness, she raised herself off Azriel, his cum trickling out of her and down her thighs. The feeling made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Gwyn went to pee quickly, then returned to the room.

The Shadowsinger hadn’t moved, just lying on his back with his eyes closed. Which was so untypical it alarmed Gwyn slightly. He needed some aftercare, and quickly, it seemed.

She leaned down to press soft kisses all over his face and chest, before grabbing his hand and tugging him up. When he finally glanced at her and moved his tired body to sit on the edge of the bed, Gwyn shimmied in-between his legs.

“You were fantastic, Az. So perfect.”, she cooed, hugging him into her so his face rested against her upper belly. Gwyn’s hands caressed every inch of skin she could find until his own hands came up to wind around her. “Thank you.”, he murmured against her, “Thank you for this.”

Gwyn untangled herself from him, tugging him to the bathroom in silent answer.

She spent a long while washing his body and hair, stopping here and there to give out kisses freely. If he had looked at her like a child on winter solstice when she agreed to do this, he now looked at her like she single handedly cured the world of all evil.

When they lay in bed that night, cuddled so closely they might as well melt into one another, Azriel seemed to have gained control over his mind once more.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”, he said, arms tightening around her naked body.

Gwyn grinned into his chest. “Ask the Mother next time you pray to her, she might answer with that level of devotion you displayed today.”

Azriel just snorted. Then fell quiet once more.

“I love you, Shadowsinger.”, Gwyn admitted.

A kiss to her forehead before he answered, “I love you more.”

#gwynriel #gwynweek2023 #gwyneth berdara #Gwyn #acotar #gwynriel smut #look at me making a moodboard

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

Rereading acotar for the first time in a year and I have THOUGHTS. I don't know what I did the first time round, or if fanfiction completely warped by brain, but I never realized Azriel is such a depressed, stone-cold little bitch lol.

It will be so difficult for me to continue with my series as I need to adjust my mental Azriel to canon a bit more. I have an idea for a very angsty one shot that I feel like will be really in character for him...

How did the internet make him such a cinnamon roll in my mind ffs??

#azriel #acotar