The Symphony of Shadow

18: 'The Guard of His Heart'

Possible triggers: smut.

A Z R I E L

Don't fall in love with her, Azriel.

No – it was too late for that. Far too late.

And although this emotion had only just hit him – so unexpected. It was more intense than he could ever possibly imagine love to be. It wasn't new feelings, or a crush. It was love.

Pure, unadulterated love like none he'd ever felt before. He loved her, he thought to himself, grinning softly at the thought. He was in love with Gwyneth Berdara.

He loved her, he loved her, he loved her, he repeated to himself, feeling some sort of sensation – a buzz – at the epiphany.

And his love for her wasn't something that had just suddenly sprung on him either, not when it felt this intense. No – it must have been building up inside of him for a while now, whilst the never ending trauma he faced blinded him from it.

He wondered then, when it was exactly he'd begun falling for her. Was it when she'd comforted him at his mother's house?

Whenever it had been, it had been a while ago, meaning his feelings had only developed more and more over time. That had been why he'd felt comfortable enough to open up to her, to be vulnerable with her.

But how had he not realised? How had he denied himself he felt anything? How had he denied to her that he felt anything?

What had been blocking him from understanding?

That would be a question for another day, he decided, for he was too tired now, and too engrossed in simply thinking about Gwyn, and how much he loved her.

He walked back to the House of Wind with a soft smile upon his face, which lingered all the way until he lay into bed, still thinking about the girl whom made him so happy.

Tomorrow, he decided, he would think of a way to ease this upon her, without hurting her – especially knowing that just a few days ago, he'd been forced to tell her that he would never fall in love with her.

Something had been holding him back that day – urging him not to say it.

Now he thought back on this, he realized what a fucking idiot he'd been – this entire time. And Gwyn, she'd put up with it all, through everything, simply because of the way she felt about him.

She was golden, and he would never let go of that, not if he could help it...

-

The next day in training, seeing Gwyn and knowing that she was the one he loved, Azriel was practically glowing – an oddity for him. He found himself smiling all throughout training, even giving the priestesses less exercise to do, much to the surprise of Nesta and Emerie. Gwyn had simply looked at him whilst smiling, a questioning look upon her face.

Afterwards, once training was over with, and it was only he and Gwyn lingering in the ring, Azriel had taken her by the hand and pulled her into a small linen closet of sorts, which housed wraps, old weapons, towels and spare leathers.

"What are you-" Gwyn started, put he cut her off the second her drew her in close, so that their bodies were pressed together, held together by his arms which were wrapped around her. He held one hand at the small of her back; the other at the nape of her neck.

He dipped his head lower, and used the hand at the back of her neck to pull her face to his, then pressed his lips against hers.

She let out a small gasp, but never pulled away, instead opening her mouth little so that he could slip in a little tongue, so that he could taste her further.