The Symphony of Shadow

13: 'Tears of Fire'

Hey! Very very sorry for the long wait, my life has been chaos. Updates should be back to normal now. (Thank you for everyone in the comments and on tumblr for nagging me - my biggest source of motivation)

Possible triggers: mild smut (female masturbation)

G W Y N

A quartet of violins played their music in the distance. It was sorrowful, and far away – yet rang loud and deep within Gwyneth Berdara's arched ears all the same.

The disconsolate music was one with her mood, after all. A lonely thought experienced from where she stood leaning forwards against the railing upon the House of Wind's training ring, watching as the sun set and the late night Solstice parties commenced.

And only her fae hearing allowed her to pick up the traces of the tune; the traces of laughter and music from crowds of all sorts of fae; the traces of muffled music ringing from the clubs and bars and restaurants.

And yet, even with all the happenings of the Night – that it was Summer Solstice, that she'd been invited to celebrate with the Inner Circle – she was still alone.

Not alone in life, she knew – she had Nesta and Emerie, after all. But alone with her secret, her mating bond, her love. Alone with lost hope.

Would she ever be able to step out into the night again as she'd done with Azriel just last week? A part of Gwyn doubted it, but still longed for the drinking, the dancing, the exploring... and Azriel – whom had held her hand through it all.

But now she didn't have him, not even as her friend. Her choice, she knew – and probably the right one – but it hurt nonetheless.

She'd come to the library from her conversation with Azriel hours ago utterly emotionless. She'd shed a few tears at their parting words, yet the walk back to her room her emotions had remained silent – silence for the chance of a mate she'd lost.

She'd sat at her desk, stared herself in the mirror – the girl in front of her different, almost unrecognisable. Each and every sound in her room pierced her senses like ice; crept over her skin like rushed flames.

Her focused gaze had never left the reflected on her eyes in the mirror, looking as though waiting for the tears to come. And though the backs of her eyes ached, none came.

Cry, she'd urged herself – silently.

Nothing.

She'd then flicked her gaze downwards, letting out a short, quiet breath, and catching site of the box which had unintentionally become her 'Azriel box' of sorts. The necklace he'd given her; their picture with his note; her little notes to him she'd been collecting...

Her face emotionless as she moved, she'd reached for the clasp keeping the small, wooden box together, unhooking it carefully and opening the lid.

For the most part, the top most layer of the trinkets she'd gathered consisted of the notes she'd written. One of the most recent, simply - 'Can you feel me loving you?"

Apparently not.

Moving her hand subconsciously, she'd found the handle of the desk draw, pulling it open and reaching in, finding what she need almost immediately.

She'd drawn out the box of matches carefully, sliding off the lid and pulling one out, then striking it along the side and watching it become alight with golden flame.

The match in one hand, the note in the other, Gwyn had brought the two together, carefully dipping the paper into the fire and watching it burn.

And as she starred into the open flame, watching as only evidence of her love disintegrated before her eyes, a single tear fell silently down her face, and then another. And another – until she was crumbling down and down as though her heart was shattering. And maybe it was.