Trial of the Valkyrie

The Walls Come Down

Chapter Twenty-Two - The Walls Come Down

Song: Touch - Sleeping at Last

"Their hands clasped between them, he whispered into her ear, "I claim you, too, Aelin Galathynius."

― Sarah J. Maas in Heir of Fire

G     W     Y     N

Gwyn had surprised herself.

  After leaving Azriel in that clearing, she'd been perfectly composed. Even after Cassian had deposited her in the private library of the House of Wind and left her to her own devices, Gwyn had remained calm. Eyes dry. Lips in a flat line.

  When Cassian had returned with the High Lady a half hour later, Gwyn had endured Feyre's pleasant interrogation while continuing to maintain her repose. The priestess had answered all of the Archeron's questions about the trial by fire and her newly discovered Vanserra heritage with ease.

  It wasn't until Emerie and Nesta had arrived in the private library that Gwyn realized she had mistaken shock for tranquility, because the second the door closed behind the two females, leaving just Gwyn and her sisters... the priestess had broken. She had crashed to her knees on the lush rug and buried her face in her hands.

  They'd spent the entirety of the day in the private library letting Gwyn confess to them what had transpired since they had left her in that cell. They'd only interrupted her twice. Once, to make her eat from the large platter of finger sandwiches the House had graciously deposited on the coffee table. The second time, to make her change into the soft night-shirt the House had seen fit to bestow upon her.

  Gwyn hadn't remembered she was wearing Azriel's jacket until that moment, and taking it off had felt wrong somehow. Setting it down on the arm of the sofa, she could feel the weight of Death on the Midnight Caravan in the pocket. A distant part of her wondered what he'd thought of the ending. If he'd solved the mystery or not.

  When evening gave way to night, the three Valkyries all dozed comfortably on the sofa and in the plush armchairs. It wasn't until the following afternoon that Gwyn woke from her dreamless, tear induced sleep, feeling significantly better.

  But also significantly worse...

  And Nesta – who was unashamedly pouring them each a healthy glass of wine from her seat on the floor – must've noticed Gwyn's shift in mood, because her face was carefully blank when she asked, "What are you going to do about Azriel?"

  Emerie sipped her drink tentatively, leaning back in her armchair, eyes fixed on the contents of her glass as though to give Gwyn some privacy.

  "I–" Gwyn began. Her chest burned and she exhaled sharply, trying to rid herself of the sensation. When it still remained, she persevered, accepting her glass from Nesta and lounging back on the sofa. "He couldn't answer my question. Until he can, I don't want to see him," said Gwyn, though her voice wavered on the last word.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Gwyn saw Emerie and Nesta exchange pointed looks. She could've sworn they were disapproving. It made her stomach sink like a stone. The righteous need to defend herself burned in Gwyn's blood.

  She took a gulp of the wine, then set it down on the coffee table, leaning her elbows on her knees. "Listen you both don't know him like I do," she explained, her tone more frantic than she intended. "The male is obsessed with the mating bond."

  Nesta nodded, swirling her drink casually. She said nothing though – only turned her attention to Emerie who offered Gwyn a wry smile.

  "He was obsessed with you, Gwyn," the Illyrian said. "Everyone could tell."