A Court of Light and Melody

Chapter 6 - Just Come Home

"There's a difference between losing something you knew you had and losing something you discovered you had. One is a disappointment. The other feels like losing a piece of yourself."

- Unknown

Song: Just Come Home (slowed down) - SYML

Gwyn trained everyday during Azriel's absence. Not just with Nesta and Emerie and the other priestesses, but also on her own.

To the back of her mind, she pushed those dark thoughts of being a monster. She wasn't sure if the decision to ignore her potentially dangerous heritage was wise, but it felt good to let it go. To do what made her happy instead of focusing on that which haunted her.

Not only did it feel good, but deep down... it felt right.

She developed a routine.

Training in the mornings with the priestesses. Her shift. A dusk service. Dinner with Nesta and Cassian. Training alone in the ring. A bath. Reading before bed.

She slept soundly every night. No nightmares of Sangravah. No tossing and turning. Gwyn couldn't determine if her lack of bad dreams was because she was too exhausted to have them or because this new routine had given her some peace of mind.

Either way, she had something to look forward to at the very least. By the time Azriel returned, he would see just how much she'd improved with the bow.

On her own.

Not to mention how she'd learned to launch herself at the training dummy's chest using her staff - delivering a powerful blow with her legs.

For the first time since the Blood Rite, Gwyn felt like herself, and even better, she felt good.

Until the day before Amren's party.

There was no sign of Azriel or Morrigan. He'd said he would be back for the dinner, and while Gwyn admonished the part of her that wanted to see him, she couldn't quite stifle the giddiness she felt at the memory of him assuring her that he would return in time. His shadows had danced, he had smiled. It was almost like... like he wanted to see her too.

But she wouldn't allow herself to read too much into it. She wouldn't let those hopeful thoughts get too far away from her. She refused to give into her "infatuation."

Forget "infatuation." You're smitten.

Gwyn smiled to herself, loosing another arrow. Fine. She was smitten.

But it didn't mean he reciprocated. As long as Gwyn recognized that, then she could simply enjoy the butterflies he gave her. That would be enough.

You want more...

It wasn't Catrin who said that. It wasn't her. It was... something she was familiar with, but had no name for.

The arrow sunk into the lower stomach of the dummy with a thud. So far, that was where the majority of her arrows landed. It was progress though, as she had been missing every other shot a few days ago.

Gwyn fired her last arrow. It landed squarely in the chest of the target.

"That's a good place to stop," she exhaled, lowering the bow.