Shadowsinger

Chapter 33

Waking up with Gwyn in his arms was an honor that Azriel still wasn't sure he deserved, but he'd known the moment that her gaze had first lingered on him a little longer than necessary that he would do everything he could to be worthy of her. She shifted in his arms, her cheek pressed against his chest, her hands still tightly gripping his shoulders, as if to reassure herself that he was still there. She'd practically climbed on top of him at some point, and the way his wings were now loosely draped over her, covering everything except her shoulders and head, it felt natural, right somehow. Azriel brushed his fingers through her unbound hair, each strand a burning fire in the dim dawn glow. The fire that had once savaged his hands had glowed orange and red, the only light in his tiny cell, and he'd hated the colors ever since, but on Gwyn, it was beautiful, calming. He twirled the ends of her hair around a finger, absentmindedly tying and untying little braids, the way Rhys' mother had once taught him, and their little sister had demanded every day since he'd learned. It had been almost five centuries since he had last braided anyone's hair, excepting the prank they'd played on Cassian. Azriel chuckled to himself at the memory of his brother walking outside with little pink bows still in his hair after he and Rhys had rushed him to get ready so that he wouldn't look in the mirror. Azriel had spent the next decade sleeping with one eye open, but Cassian had never retaliated, at least not that he knew of.

Gwyn stirred in his arms at the movement, and he brushed her hair gently, murmuring nothing and everything until she hummed and quieted again. Even the shadows had fallen quiet, a rare moment of stillness, the one part of him that had never sat still, always having something to do, but here, with Gwyn. It was contentedness he realized, for the first time in five and a half centuries, the shadows were truly content, and it was because of her. He'd woken earlier than he'd needed to, instinct still telling him that the moment the sun rose he was in danger, but the moment he'd opened his eyes he'd relaxed, no momentary panic, just that calm that found him whenever Gwyn was around. He closed his eyes, and must have slipped back to sleep because Gwyn was blinking her own eyes open when he opened them what had felt like moments later. She smiled sleepily, and nestled into him a little more, his heart swelling in his chest at the display of trust, of comfort. She blinked again at the sunlight starting to stream past the poorly closed curtains,

"What time is it?" 

"No idea," he wrapped his arms tighter around her as she wriggled to try and see the clock,

"Azriel! You should have woken me!" He shrugged, "It's almost midday,"

"I don't care," she shrugged him off and made to sit up, but he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back down, "No, you're warm,"

"Off," she ordered, but giggled when he narrowed his eyes in refusal, "Off," she laughed, "I promised I'd look for a spell for Amren in the library,"

"Go later,"

"Stop being a baby and let me go,"

"Five more minutes," he complained, for possibly the first time ever, memories of being the one to drag Rhys and Cassian out of bed surfacing at the thought,

"Off,"

"Four minutes,"

"One."

"Three,"

"One."

"Two."

"Fine." Azriel kissed her temple when she snuggled back into him, "You're such a bad influence,"

"You were already bad," he teased, "You just needed a little nudge," she snorted, but turned to stare up at him, 

"I missed you,"