Shadowsinger

Chapter 25

Something was wrong. Azriel hadn't spoken since returning to Velaris, not a word, he'd just been sitting wrapped in his shadows on the edge of the bed. He'd silently washed up and sat quietly, Gwyn had given him space, sensing that was what he needed, but it had been almost an hour, and nothing she had done had even seemed to register with him. She'd tried simply talking to him, asking him to help her with her kit, cleaning the room, rambling about how she really wanted to go to a restaurant on the Sidra that Nesta had recommended, anything to try to break through the haze over his mind, and got no response. She'd tried sitting beside him, tried to let him know that she was there if he needed, but he hadn't moved. He'd even shrugged her arm away when she rested it across his shoulders. She'd never seen him like this, distant, yes, brooding, yes, but not this. But she knew why he was like this, she'd heard snippets of the conversation with his brother, had heard the almost endless jabs on the journey here, had seen the way he'd quieted in memory. She couldn't fathom exactly what had happened when he was a child, but she knew it was bad, he'd never broached the subject, and she didn't want to push him, but right now, she just needed to get him talking, if he was talking, she could figure out someway to help.

Shadows swirled around him, almost hiding him from view, but they kept whispering, just outside of Gwyn's hearing, but the sound was there. She could have screamed from the frustration of it all, they were trying to tell her how to help him, and she couldn't even hear them.

"Let me reach him," she murmured, and the shadows backed off, still watching over him, but allowed her close, settling on both of their shoulders, waiting for something, waiting for her. Like her, they were worried, like her, they knew he needed help, but unlike her, they believed that she would figure out the way to get through to him, Gwyn wasn't so sure, she'd never really been the support for anyone else, but perhaps she could use what had helped her in the past. Azriel held his face in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees, hardly moving except for the slight movements of his breath. "Azriel. Az, please," Gwyn gently pulled his hands away from his face , crouching in front of him to meet his eyes without risking appearing as a threat. The emptiness in his eyes could have broken her, but she just squeezed his hands, "Azriel. Love, it's just me," she held back the tears threatening to fall when he snatched his hands back,

"Don't."

"Az,"

"Just, just don't."

"Talk to me."

"Why are you here?"

"Because I love you, and you need me,"

"How?"

"What?"

"You love me?"

"More than the sun and stars, you are my heart, my shield," Gwyn's voice faltered when Azriel looked down at his hands, tucking them behind his back, "Please, Az, don't hide from me," she reached for his hands, and he leaned back, she stopped, but held out her hand for his, "Please,"

"In what world could I deserve you? This?" He whispered, almost inaudibly, "He was right, I am a monster, and,"

"He was wrong."

"You don't understand," he was still staring at his hands, "You don't know the blood I've spilled," Gwyn finally reached his hands, and held tight, interlacing their fingers,

"These are the hands of a survivor, the hands of a protector of his people, but more than that, Az. These are the hands that saved me, I could never be afraid of you, never. And I'm just one of thousands." Gwyn squeezed his fingers once more, gently rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand, and without even thinking, lifted them, and brushed her lips against one hand, then the other before climbing into his lap to loop her arms around his neck. She breathed a sigh of relief when his arms wrapped around her waist, the movement so familiar by now, so safe, so Azriel, just one more step away from the fear that had been threatening to consume him, "Tell me one thing, have you ever enjoyed killing?"