Trial of the Valkyrie

Count on Me

Chapter Four - Count on Me

Song: Two - Sleeping at Last

"I talk to you as I talk to my own soul."

— Diana Gabaldon in Dragonfly in Amber

A    Z    R   I   E    L

The wedding would be held in the sanctuary on the river house grounds, just as Cassian and Nesta's mating ceremony had been – though not anywhere near as grand.

That said, with what little time they did have, Azriel was making a concentrated effort to ensure it was an occasion worthy of Gwyneth Berdara. Or rather, one that at least somewhat lived up to the expectations of his priestess friend. While he did not share her views on the mating bond, the shadowsinger confessed himself beguiled by the sentiments she'd expressed about marriage. What the union meant. What she imagined it would be like.

So he'd sent Cassian to the restaurant that had catered his mating ceremony and politely asked the twins to craft the same desserts they'd made for their reception. With the catering seen to, the rings procured, and Feyre promising that the ceremony would indeed look like a wedding and not a court proceeding, there was still the matter of attire. Azriel may not have been the groom, but he was presenting the bride and wanted to look respectable for her.

Like Cassian, Azriel donned his dress-uniform. A Night Court black jacket with navy embroidery, fitted snugly to the lean lines of his body.

When it came to Gwyn's dress, Azriel had been relieved to hear that Nesta and Emerie were seeing to it. While through his fair amount of trysts with females Azriel had become familiar with a number of female fashions, he did not know what types of dresses Gwyn liked. He'd only ever seen her in fighting leathers and priestess robes. Still, like with the entirety of the wedding for his friend, Azriel felt the need to help in this aspect as well.

The shadowsinger entered the bustling river house kitchen, his eyes sweeping the room for Nes–

Elain, his shadows whispered – there was unspoken caution in her name.

She stood at the kitchen counter framed by the wraith twins, mixing a thick batter in a bowl that Azriel considered to be comically large in her slender arms Her eyes met his and for a staggering moment, he wondered if she would glare. If she would avert her gaze.

But Elain Archeron gave him a polite smile, lifting her chin in greeting, then set back to her work murmuring to the twins.

Surely it was a good thing that she had been able to so swiftly move on from what they'd never had. But if that were so, why did something in him fracture realizing that he was so easily dismissed from her life?

"I'm looking for Nesta," he began softly.

His shadows had indicated she was here...

"You're early, Azriel," Nesta Archeron said, exiting the walk-in pantry, hugging an array of glass jars to her chest.

She set them down on the counter, with a precarious series of 'clinks' then lifted a single brow as she crossed the sunlit kitchen and arrived before Azriel – arms folded. She was resplendent donning a midnight blue gown of silk, the long sleeves close-fitted and the back of it open.

Azriel realized then that the single arched brow was essentially Nesta's response, so he extended a small pouch, heavy with silver to her, "I don't know what you or Emerie intend to purchase Gwyn today, but would you use this to get her something nice? Something she would like."