A Court of Light and Melody

Chapter 30 - The Darkest of Rooms

"Hate is easy, but love takes courage"

- Hannah Harrington

Song: Will Follow You Into the Dark - Jasmine Thompson

There was no sign of the humans to the west or south of Gwyn and Azriel's base for the next two days.

She followed the shadowsinger through the trees listening intently as he told her what around them might indicate recent passage or where stashes could be hidden. Tree hollows could house anything from arrows to swords. The undersides of great rocks could hide a hole filled with weapons. Blankets of leaves that had been shed from different trees could indicate they had not fallen and instead been strategically placed.

But they found nothing and returned to their camp by sunset, with the intention to investigate the north side of the forest tomorrow.

Gwyn had to admit, she was suddenly grateful for the placid nature of their assignment. Not only because of the cathartic experience she'd had last night, but also because of the privacy it allowed them. The opportunity they had to focus on one another. To joke and laugh and tell each other stories. To learn about one another.

Back at camp they resumed their dagger training. As he had for the past day and a half, Azriel would often address her as "songbird."

Gwyn lunged for Azriel with her dagger. "Is it because that's your favorite kind of bird?"

Azriel spun, sweeping out his leg and ducking her blade. Gwyn jumped back just in time.

The shadowsinger answered as he had last night. With a maddening amount of crypticism. "Among other reasons."

Gwyn huffed and made her next move. Her books never mentioned how frustrating a tall, dark and handsome love interest could be.

The sun began to set and Azriel had them resume their nightly routine. He would take to the sky and do a quick sweep. She would prepare the cave for dinner and sleeping.

But this time before Azriel ascended, he made a request.

"Don't bother with a fire. I'll give you my blanket tonight. I don't need it."

Gwyn angled her head. "Won't you be cold?"

"I'll be fine," he said, flexing his wings.

"Well, I'll prepare one for us to light just in case—"

"Don't," Azriel objected... a little too quickly. His shadows gently caressed his arms. "Please."

The shadowsinger's eyes were pained, but the rest of his face was unreadable. Biting down the urge to inquire further, Gwyn only nodded and then started towards the cave. She wouldn't pry... yet.

There was a soft gust of wind and when she looked over her shoulder, Azriel was gone.

Rolling out the bed-mats and fishing some bread and fruit out of their packs, Gwyn couldn't help but wonder more about Azriel's ever increasing avoidance of fires. Again she considered his burned hands and the meaning behind his magic. Was he burned and then forced into solitude while he healed? Did he force himself into isolation out of shame for his hands?

She didn't have time to ponder further as Azriel entered the cave, removing his hand siphons casually, then proccuring a ball of fae-light from his pack.

They enjoyed their meal in companionable silence. It wasn't until they were lying on the beds-mats Gwyn had placed side by side that she spoke again.

"I have a... very personal question." Azriel, who was propped up on an elbow arched a single brow, a crooked smile on his lips. Gwyn continued, "That you certainly can refuse to answer."