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onceupona-chaos · 3 years

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Feathers and dawn (part II)

Day 18 of Elriel month/ Teach me how to fly

You can read part I here.

"Spread your wings."

The moment Elain opened her wings, the cold, impetuous wind hit them, and the full impact made her lose balance, almost falling backwards. Instead, she met Azriel's chest, his hands tightened on her waist, and her body went cold and hot all at once.

This time Elain did stop breathing.

WC: 4164/ Warnings: Language

(I had so much fun writing this! As usual, sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language. Sorry for any typos as well, but I can't look at it anymore lol)

Elain had held that light inside of her with everything she got, and even so it came close to controlling her rather than the other way around.

She still could feel it, not the light that shone so bright to blind someone's eyes, but more like a gracious flame of a candle in her chest. But that was nothing compared to how the muscles on her back burned.

When her eyes cracked open, she was half expectant that all of it had been a delirious dream or one of those visions that still hunted her from time to time. But then she tried to move to a sit position, and a scream escaped from her throat at the very, very real pain punishing her upper body.

Her entire back was sore, and she could feel a complex extension of muscles - from her neck to the end of her spine - that was now linked to two massive weights coming out of her shoulder blades.

Excruciating, blinding pain.

Elain didn't notice the tears falling down her cheeks, couldn't even hear the sounds coming out of her own mouth.

Strong, calloused hands were pushing her hair away from her sweaty forehead a second later, and then Azriel’s beautiful face was there.

He was like a hiding spot in the middle of a storm, anchoring her from her agony, even though his expression was contorted in worry.

Azriel's eyes were wild, lips forming her name, but she couldn't hear a sound. Pain was all she knew, making her senses numbed.

Black dots started to dance in front of her eyes, her head getting light, and hazel ones full of terror was the last thing she saw before the world bleed into darkness again.

_______________

The next time Elain emerged to consciousness, first she smelled the leafy odor of salvia. Then the feeling of gentle, experienced hands massaged the line of her spine while she was lying on her stomach.

Heavy eyelids opened to the Velaris sunset, shades of pink and purple coloring the blue sky were visible through the familiar floor to ceiling windows, making her recognize her room in the river house.

Elain caught a movement from the corner of her eyes, and she inclined her head slightly to see Azriel, kneeling beside her bed, worry still printed in his face, but his eyes filled with relief now.

His hair was in complete disarray, the dark locks pointed in different directions as if he had run his hands through it repeatedly.

“You’re awake,” he breathed.

Those hands, unfamiliar hands, were still rubbing her exposed back, the gentle touch soothing the pain.

“That’s Majda, she’s almost finishing.” Azriel must have sensed her confusion. “How’s the pain?”

Her mouth was dry and it was an effort just to make words come out of it. “Tolerable” she said, voice raw.

He just nodded and then they fell in a comfortable silence. It was always like this with him - no need for empty words.

Azriel just stayed there in his vigil, shadows curling around his ankles, watching her with those familiar hazel eyes. Not the blazing gold of Cassian's, but rather an embrace shared between warm brown and stark gray, with hues of emerald green that would stand out according to his mood.

Eyes as complex as Azriel's himself, candidly observing her whilst Majda worked, her hands putting the exact amount of pressure to soothe her muscles, the salvia tuning the sharp pain into a dull ache. She didn't touch Elain's wings.

Wings.

Even with their weights on her back, even with the feeling of that warm power in her chest, Elain still was prone to believe it all had been a dream if it wasn't for the pain.

When Majda finished the healing massage, she merely told them she'd come back the next few days to do it again.

The bedroom’s door clicked shut, and Elain was already trying to get up, Azriel immediately protesting, "You should stay in bed.”

"I want to see them" was her only reply. She needed to see, to look at them. To know they were real.

"Your muscles aren't strong enough to support the new weight -"

Indeed, when she tried to stand, her balance wavered and she toppled forward.

Azriel caught her before she could fall on her face, hauling her up. Gently, one of his hands passed behind her knees, the other around her waist, and he scooped her up.

Elain let her head fall against his chest, breathing his scent as he walked through the room. A few moments later, far more than was necessary to reach her mirror, he put her down, but remained close.

She didn't see her pale face or even care about the fact that she was wearing nothing, but a nightgown that reached the middle of her thighs. Not when two massive wings rested on the floor behind her, the soft, white feathers touching the carpet.

Elain turned around to see her back, to see the point where the skin ended and the feathering began.

They were beautiful.

But she never had felt more unworthy of something. She couldn’t even hold them up, couldn't even lift them from the ground. It had been so exhausting spent months trapped in that murky realm, visions blending together with reality, that she hadn’t want find out what else the Cauldron had given her, hadn't want to touch that flame burning in her chest, not when her own body felt foreign and now -

Only when she felt tears dripping onto her chest, Elain realized she was crying, exhaustion falling upon her as a blanket, covering her to the bones.

She stood there for enough time that the next time Azriel spoke, she had almost forgotten he was there.

Almost.

Because she always seemed to sense whenever he was around.

"I will teach you everything."

It didn't sound like an offer at all. His words were a promise.

Slowly she turned from the mirror to face him - and nearly sobbed at how lovely and fiercely his eyes were, almost shining with sheer compassion.

Compassion for her, yes. But also for an Illyrian boy who didn't know how to fly, who found himself all alone in a war camp long ago. "I'll be with you and I'll teach you everything."

She didn’t know what to say, what to make of everything. So Elain only took his hand, interlacing their fingers and squeezing firmly.

But then, a thought struck her. "Truth-Teller," she gasped.

A smile curved his lips. "It's with me," he said. "I went back to the Cave. Turns out, without the Orb, the wards were gone."

Relief washed over her. And guilty.

"I'm sorry. I should - ."

Before she could finish her sentence, Elain was again in his arms. Azriel chuckled, but hadn't missed how heavy her eyelids were getting. "Not your fault. You weren't exactly in position to remember it," he said while gently carrying her back to bed.

But before he could lay down the mattress, he stopped by the side of the bed, and turned to look at her. Every ounce of amusement gone.

"I thought…" his words died and he shook his head.

No trace of that mask he so often used, no sign of his usually neutral expression.

The look on his face was Azriel in his most raw state. And she could see it.

I thought I had lost you.

She wished she wasn't so tired as she buried her face in the crook of his neck and breathed, "I know."

He nodded. He understood.

He murmured as he lay her in the bed, "Sleep. I still owe Nesta an explanation."

Elain smiled sleepily, and mumbled, "Good luck."

Just when darkness came to claim her once again, Elain felt the ghost touch of a light kiss in her temple and the smell of mist and cedar. ___________

The next day, Elain was sitting at her usual spot by the window of the living room in the river house, the Orb laying on a desk right in the center of the room. What was unusual, however, was the many pairs of eyes glued to her.

Cassian's jaw was still on the floor by the time Amren, the last one to arrive, entered the room. Even her face went a bit slack when she took in the wings and some emotion sparkled in her silver eyes.

Elain tried not to blush, but all that attention wasn't helping.

Although Feyre had helped her before to retract and summon her wings, which she was grateful for, Elain didn't want to summon them in front of everyone, so she decided to just get straight to the point.

She didn’t know how Azriel explained what had happened to the others, especially to Nesta. But given the look on her face fixed on Rhysand and on the spymaster, a perfect I Will Slay My Enemies look, according to Cassian, Elain wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

But as for now Azriel just held her sister's gaze, his face neutral.

"So…" Cassian began, waving a hand towards her wings. "What the hell?"

"I think what he's trying to ask you is," Nesta gave a look at her mate. "Where did those come from?"

Elain took a deep breath. "Well..." She bit her lip, trying to choose her words in order to make sense. "After I found out what I was, I've never accessed the full extension of my powers. I knew the Cauldron had given me something else,something more, but I didn't want to find out what it was."

Rhysand asked, "Why."

"Because I was too scared," She replied honestly. That was all she could say. She didn't want to, didn't know if she could relive those days when she couldn't tell reality and dreams apart.

She glimpsed at Azriel, who was at the corner of the room, sorrow shining on his face while he gave her a reassurance nod.

"So when I grabbed the Orb, it… whatever powers I have just grumbled in answer, as if they were the same… they came to the surface. It tried to stop them, push them back, to let go of the Orb, but I couldn't… it trapped me"

"That's because they are the same," Amren said. As soon as the words left her mouth, Elain understood what lay on her eyes: recognition.

"What wicked sort of plans the Cauldron may have for the three of you," Amren went on, nodding to Elain and her sisters.

"Amren," Rhysand said, the voice of the High Lord. "If you know something, just tell us."

The petite female gave him a hard look, before turning to Elain. "The Cauldron didn't make you any Seer." Amren tilted her head, studied Elain. "He also happened to make you an Oracle." Her eyes were practically two blazing stars, and Elain had to fight a shiver, before asking "An Oracle?"

"That 's right, girl."

"What's the difference?" Nesta demanded.

"A different group of Seers… powerful ones", Rhysand murmured, running a hand through his hair. "I thought they were just a myth."

"They were as real as you and me, Rhysand," Amren said, shaking her head.

It was Feyre's time to demand, "Someone please explain."

"Before the High Lords, there was a time where this world lived in complete, unshakable peace," Amren began. "The Oracles were the great responsibles for this time of harmony, a group of Seers who used to celebrate life and pulled the threads of Fate. They travel through words just like we travel between courts, using their Seer powers to See and manipulate the future to their will… to prevent any cause of conflict before it even became a conflict. Subtle, swift creatures those females"

Elain wasn't sure if anyone in the room was breathing.

Azriel asked quietly, "How did they disappear?"

"No one truly knows." Rhysand answered. "The legends don't go that far."

"Common Seers have the gift of sight, but it's limited in its own way," Amren explained. "Oracles, however, have other sort powers as well and they can see further in the future, no matter how distant."

There was one question in Elain's mind, essencial and terrifying. "What is my power?"

Amren's smile was a thing of pure wickedness. "I guess you'll have to find out."

"But why the wings?" Nesta asked, brows furrowed.

Amren eyes softened a little. "Some claimed some of them heritaged from an unknown race of warriors. But not every one of them had wings. If you were blessed with them, they would call you the Leader. The others would fly on their winged horses by her side, travelling through the world and maintaining their balance."

Elain's head was spinning. "But what about the Orb?"

"I might have an idea, but I'll need to do some research in the Helion's libraries first." Rhysand shot his mate a look, his lips curving. "Care to join?"

Feyre only rolled her eyes.

Cassian let out a long breath. "So you're telling me Elain could see if a war is truly coming and stop it before it even begins."

A sick feeling gathered on her stomach, and she blurted, "No."

Silence.

"No what?" Amren asked thighly.

"No, I won't use my powers to play with Fate." She couldn't help the edge of rage in her words. "Espeacilly not when Fate itself had been playing with me all along."

Silence fell.

"You're right," Feyre offered at last, her voice soft. "It's your choice."

Gratitude washed over Elain.

"I want to learn how to fly, though" she blurted, glancing at Azriel, who was already smiling.

Feyre looked between them. "You'll find Azriel has… harsh methods, but they are quite efficient."

Rhysand, who had been just observing, suggested, "Maybe you, Feyre darling, can teach Elain, too."

"I will train her." Azriel's words were practically a snarl, challenge filling every one of them.

Elain looked at the shadows gathering around him as he stared at Rhysand, who just narrowed his eyes back. Strange.

"I'm sure Azriel is the better option to teach Elain, he was the one who taught me after all." Feyre was looking pointly at her mate. "But I can participate in a few lessons when they get tired of training alone." She said looking at Elain, eyes shining bright with an edge of mischief.

Elain ignored that.

"You'll have to build some muscles, you know that, right?" Cassian asked.

Muscles. It wasn't that Elain was opposed to that, but… she couldn't see herself as a warrior like her sisters. Surely, she wouldn't mind learning one thing or two, but...

"I'll help you."

Elain turned to her older sister, with raised brows. "I don't…"

"You don't have to learn how to use a sword, but I can help with your core muscles," Nesta offered.

Then, Elain couldn't stop the warmth in her chest - not from that source of power, but from pure gratitude. "Thank you."

Amren shocked her head and huffled a breath, edged with amusement, making Elain's brows furrow at that.

"A Made, reborn Fae and a Valkyrie training a new Oracle." Her lips curved in a feral smile. "Three Cauldron-blessed sisters, indeed."

Elain didn't have to use the Orb to know Fate had listened to Amren's words.

--------------

"Shit."

Azriel's curse hit Elain's ears, before her arm hit the rock as she fell on her face right into the lake.

They had been training for weeks now. At first, it was more about how to summon her wings and keep them up instead of resting on the ground.

Sometimes Feyre would join them, or even Nuala and Cerridwen made an appearance for what Cerridwen called "emotional support".

Which means they watched as Elain jumped just to fall right into that gods-damned lake and tried not to laugh. Cerridwen often failed spectacularly at that.

But after one particularly hard training lesson that ended up with more bruises Elain would care to admit, especially to her pride, Cerridwen had come to her room with a gift: a brand new and very pink apron with a winged fawn carefully embroidered at the front, the chain stitches meticulous done.

It was the most ridiculous apron Elain had ever seen - and she wore every chance she got with a stupid smile on her face.

But most of the time it was only Azriel and her. First they would stick to training, and she was able to focus only on the lessons. Until one day they had sat side by side at the shore, talking about everything and nothing, and, gods, she had missed him.

But then she felt that ravenous pull towards him and had to look away, before she could do something stupid again - and just like that she remembered why they had kept their distance in the first place.

She knew he desired her just as she desired him. She had seen the longing in his face, and had smelled his scent that night, darker than usual. Had read the hunger shining in his eyes as he looked at her.

But she had crossed a line he didn't want to cross.

Good thing now she had other things to worry about. Like ignoring the pain in her left arm, finding her way to the surface to get the hell out of that chilling lake.

But before she could do any of those things, Elain found herself looking at the sky and then the ground was beneath her.

And a very, very shirtless Azriel was by her side. "Are you alright?" he asked, wrapping his tunic around her shoulders, scanning for injuries.

Even with her teeth almost chattering off her mouth from the cold, Elain couldn't help but take one good look at his muscled chest, those intricate tattoos on display and she felt her face heating. Not from embarrassment, but from pure desire that was pounding in her blood, traveling through her body. All she wanted in that moment, and so many before that, was to touch him, taste him. Be with him, by his side.

She imagined what would be like to have that powerful body hovering over hers.

Then she blushed a bit at those thoughts, too.

"I"m fine," she blurted after a considerable time, enough to make Azriel blush as well. And make her consider throwing herself at the lake again.

To distract herself, Elain closed her eyes and accessed that flame in her chest, letting it shine bright inside her, waves of heat running through her veins and bones until she was no longer cold.

When she looked at Azriel, he was already watching her. He cleaned his throat. "You kept yourself on the air longer this time."

Elain raised an eyebrow, "I fell on the only rock in this entire river."

A gleam shone in his eyes.

Elain narrowed hers at him.

"Are you trying not to laugh?"

"No," he said, clapping his lips together.

Every pound of desire in her blood died. "You said it wasn't funny anymore after the first four times!"

At that, Azriel tipped his head back and busted out such a rich laugh, that even Elain couldn't stop the small smile on her own lips. "You are a terrible teacher."

Except that he wasn't. Azriel was patient and thoughtful. He had refused to let her practice anywhere but the lake, and when she said she didn't need to be coddled and could practice on land, he had scanned her face, so many emotions passing across his, and told her he wouldn't see her getting hurt.

So they practice on the lake. Every day.

That was weeks ago and Elain was starting to think she would never take to the skies. She still couldn't sustain herself on the air for more than a few seconds.

"What is it like? To fly, I mean." she asked, eyes fixing on the lake before her.

She felt Azriel's eyes on her. "It 's freedom." Truth echoed in his words.

Elain nodded to herself. "I can hear the wind calling me." Her wing ruffled as if in emphasis."I can feel every muscle in my body begging me to jump out of the windows and it just… it's getting harder to ignore."

Elain tried to stop the burning in her eyes, her voice was broken when she breathed, "Why me, if I can't even get close to being airborne for more than five seconds?"

Azriel kept silent for so long, she didn't know if he heard her, but she was too much of a coward to look at him. Didn't want to look at him, not like this, not again.

But then gentle fingers found her chin and slowly turned her head to meet hazel eyes shining bright as the sun above them.

"Come with me."

Next thing she knew she was taking his extended hand and he shot to the skies, his tunic flying from her shoulders while she was being cradled against his bare chest.

Even though he was made of muscles hard as rock, his skin was warm and soft as the finest velvet.

Azriel landed right on the top of one of the highest mountains surrounding Velaris, the city bursting with life so far below that it seemed one of Nyx's toys.

And Elain almost stopped breathing. "Are you going to push me?"

Azriel chuckled, but didn't answer. "Turn around and close your eyes."

"So you definitely are going to push me," she murmured, but did as she was told.

She didn't know what she was expecting, but it wasn't Azriel's large hands on her waist or the warmth of his body behind her.

"Spread your wings."

The moment Elain opened her wings, the cold, impetuous wind hit them, and the full impact made her lose balance, almost falling backwards. Instead, she met Azriel's chest and his hands tightened on her.

This time Elain did stop breathing.

Especially when Azriel's breath caressed the

shell of her ear. "Focus on the wind passing through your wings, how each feather answers to it. Try to understand its direction, its temperature."

So she did. And she could feel it. She could feel the most external layer of feathers absorbing the temperature impact of the icy wind. Could feel the most little plumes, so sensitive they could perceive the slight change in any air current direction.

She became aware of everything around her. But mostly of the heat emanating from Azriel's body on her back, of his thumbs now drawing small circles on her sides.

"When I was a boy, I used to think the same thing as you do now," he whispered. "I was locked away and had to suppress so many instincts…" He let out a breath. "These wings are yours and only yours, you command them. It might take some time, but you will fly and control your powers. Be patient. You can do whatever you want, Elain."

It was his words, the meaning. He believed in her, had always believed in her.It was that certainty that had her leaning into his touch.

She folded in her wings and tilted her head, slowly opening her eyes to find his beautiful face inches from hers, close enough for her to see the hues of green in his eyes.

"Thank you," she breathed.

Azriel said nothing. No, he just let every word shine in his gaze as he leaned down and brushed his nose against hers while his thumbs were still caressing her sides leisurely.

She sucked in a breath, eyes falling close as she lost herself at the pure intimacy of that touch. Elain's whole body went molten and she wanted nothing more than to melt against his chest.

But she couldn't cross that line again.

So she pulled back, just enough to look at his face and made herself say, "I think Nesta is waiting for me."

Shadows darkened his hazel eyes. "Right."

On their way to the House of Wind, she thought Azriel would keep silent but he surprised her when he said quietly, "Nuala and Cerridwen never told me you were training with them."

Despite everything, a faint smile curved Elain's lips. "You can't expect to know everyone secrets."

He lifted an eyebrow. "That's my job."

And Nuala and Cerridwen's, too.

"I don't want to be a warrior," Elain blurted. "But… maybe I can use my gifts - my sight gifts, I mean - to..."

A whisper of those shadows still filled his gaze, but Azriel gave her a small smile. "Like spying?"

Elain blushed. "Perhaps."

"You'd make a good spy, but you have to be patient."

Elain looked at him. At that male who had intrigued her and made her feel comfortable and safe from the very beginning. At that male who found her when no one else would, who had seen her. Had truly seen her.

No, she wouldn't cross that line now, but...

"I can be patient, Azriel," she breathed. Promised.

This time, hope shone so brightly in his hazel eyes that no room was left for shadows.

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