Chapter 3 - The Way You Did Once

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"Hangovers don't last forever but drunk memories do."

-Unknown

Song: Once Upon a Dream - Lana Del Rey

"Sorry." Those were the last words out of Gwyn's mouth before the room tilted sideways and the edges of her vision darkened.

Strong arms caught her and the smell of night mist and cedar was overpowering. "Got you."

Gwyn blinked rapidly, trying to bring her surroundings into focus. Slowly her sight cleared, and she was looking at the Shadowsinger who had scooped her up in his arms. The shadows that curled around his shoulders inched towards her and she had a strange feeling that they were concerned.

Azriel seemed momentarily alarmed when her eyes met his. "I can set you down, Gwyn. You were... You were going to fall."

If it were any other male in the entire world, Gwyn would have taken him up on the offer to release her immediately. If the person whose strong hands gripped her shoulders and knees didn't belong to the shadowsinger she would have wriggled out of their grasp.

But it was Azriel who held her. Azriel who was gazing down at her intently. The same male who had saved her all those years ago. The same male that she felt a strange compulsion to be near. Her friend.
If there was a male she trusted enough to catch her, it was Azriel.

"I could get Morrigan for you, if you don't mind waiting here."

But Elain had already tried that and Morrigan was decidedly absent.

"Just take me... Take me back please, Shadowsinger," she shuddered as another wave of nausea fell over her. "I... I want to go home."

Azriel studied her face for a moment, searching for something in her bleary expression. Eventually he nodded. "l'll have to fly us there, Berdara. Are you comfortable with that?"

I don't want to think about what I'm comfortable with. Just get me out of here now.

"Very well," Azriel affirmed.

Cauldron, had she said that out loud? She was never drinking again. Ever.

"Thank you, Shadowsinger." The words sounded clear in her mind, but she could tell they were slurring.

Gwyn's vision blurred and her eyelids fell shut. Her heavy head plunked  against Azriel's chest and she didn't bother fighting that thick warmth blinding her from what a fool she was making of herself. She could reconcile that later.

Instead Gwyn focused on the feeling of his powerful arms holding her tight to him as he walked through the river house.

How often had she daydreamed of this?

Well, not vomiting on Azriel's feet and being carried like a sleeping child, but rather of his embrace around her body. Of being so close to him in a situation where they weren't sparring. Unspeakable ideas that came to her when she was alone late at night in the bathing chambers.

She shouldn't dwell on such imaginings, such fantasies. But in this moment, they seemed to overtake her despite her efforts to refuse them. Was it the champagne?

Azriel. Azriel. Azriel. Her blood practically sang his name.

A strong gust of wind blasted Gwyn's face and she was weightless. A breeze continued to waft over her in a steady rhythm. Cool air tickled her feet. She made herself open her eyes.

They soared high over Velaris, ascending and ascending into the blue sky. Gwyn looked down at her chilled feet to see they were bare - the satin heels discarded.

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