Shadowsinger

Chapter 23

Azriel held her close all night, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other cradling her head against his chest where Gwyn lay practically on top of him. She blinked as the sunlight coursed through the curtains, and brushed Azriel's hair back out of his face,

"You need a haircut," she chuckled when he opened his eyes and she laughed when the arm around her waist tightened, "Thank you," she whispered, unable to really explain what he'd done for her last night, but he just nodded, brushing a hand through her hair, refusing to let go when she wriggled, "You don't want me to go,"

"No, but I know that you need to, I just want you to be careful, remember your promise,"

"I know, I'll be fine, I'm not the one fighting everyone,"

"It's not proper fighting, just a taste, they'll have no idea what's hit them if I do fight any of them properly." Gwyn snorted,

"I'm sure," she laughed, "Are you going to let me go?"

"Don't want to," Azriel rolled sideways and tugged Gwyn closer, planting a kiss on the top of her head, "I'd stay here forever if I could."

"Here?"

"Alone, with you, not worrying about the world," Gwyn eased back enough to meet his gaze,

"We'll have that time, I promise, there you go, another promise, seems I can't help but make them to you," she wriggled her way out of his arms, "You need to get up, or we'll both be late." Azriel groaned, but Gwyn made sure he was getting up before sorting herself out, going as far as dragging the duvet away from him, earning wild complaints, and glares, but, sleepy as he was, Gwyn couldn't help but laugh as he dragged himself to the bathroom.

Gwyn sighed when she pulled on her dress, wishing she could get away with something easier to fight and move in, not that the corset was an issue, it didn't restrict her, but she still marveled at how it could fit properly whilst not obstructing her wings. The skirt however, was an issue, Illyrians favored full skirts, and while she could run, she didn't fancy her chances in a proper fight, in a little one she would be alright, but she didn't like it. 

She was brushing through her hair when Azriel appeared behind her, stealing the brush form her hand,

"Az! Give it back," she complained, but he just twirled a finger, and she huffed as she turned back to the mirror, sighing when he kept working through the more stubborn tangles and knots. She couldn't help but smile at the way his brows bunched when he was concentrating on a particular knot. 

"What are you grinning about?"

"You, being all adorable," Azriel didn't get a chance to respond before someone pounded on the door, Gwyn jumped up to answer it, leaving Azriel to pretend to be gathering his kit for training, but she relaxed at the sigh of Laylah at the door,

"Amirah," she sobbed, "Thank the Cauldron, I was so worried I'd have gotten it wrong, please let me in," Gwyn stepped aside, quietly closing the door behind her,

"What is it?" Laylah made to speak, but shook her head at the sight of Azriel,

"He won't hurt you," Gwyn promised, "He's not like some of these others,"

"He's not?"

"No, he's not."

"Oh gods, my father is going to kill me, I ran away, just like he thought I would. I had to, you have to understand, he wanted to marry me to a human! A prince, but a human, he'll be old and grey in no time, I can't, I just can't do it, I won't!"

"It's okay, it's okay, you don't have to do anything you don't want to,"

"Okay, okay, can we stay here for a moment?"