𝒜 𝒞𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝑅𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒮𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓈 | ᴀᴢʀɪᴇʟ

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Arwen and Azriel were up before dawn the next day. He had remained at the town house overnight which subjected him to her early arousing, requesting him to train with her in the paved area of the garden. Their communication for the next hour was almost entirely physical, using gestures with their hands or motioning to equipment. She settled on punching his padded hands, her heart matching the beating of her knuckles.

Her arms had been begging to stop for some time, but it was only when she nearly broke her wrist from rolling it forward that she stopped. Arwen's arms dropped, shaking slightly. She hunched over, fearing the acidic feeling that rose through her throat. Behind her, Azriel tore off the pads and tossed them aside. He laid on hand on her back, his other palm pressing flat against her chest, just below her clavicle to support her hunched weight.

It was a calm spring morning, with greying clouds right on the horizon that threatened an evening shower.

"Do you want some water?"

Arwen remained bent for another moment with clenched eyes, then slowly rose and shook her head. The hand at her chest dropped, but it was a small delight that the one on her back remained in place as his head tilted to search her face. She could tell he was worried—about what, she wasn't entirely sure though. Rhysand hadn't spoken of what he and Amren found yesterday, and Arwen hadn't asked so it was unlikely that he knew anything.

Azriel remained where he stood as she stepped away from him. His eyes followed her fingers as they unwound her hair from the fraying bun to rake through and tame it once more before tying it all off again. He hadn't been sure what to make of it when he awoke to her leant over him in his bedroom, meekly asking for him to join in outside. Now he understood.

As she squinted against the sky-broaching sun, he gave his right wing a slight shift until its form cast a shadow across her face.

"Oi!" Their heads turned towards the back entrance of the town house where Cassian leant against the threshold. "You two going to come have breakfast with us?"

Arwen looked back to the still dawning sun, noting how early it was for the house to be awake. But she supposed that both Cassian and Rhys were early wakers, and she was the only one who ever truly slept in. Nodding towards him, she began collecting her training gear along with Azriel.

Nuala and Cerridwen were in the kitchen, her nose already filling with hints of eggs and rations of bacon. Rhysand was moving about, adjusting the lapels of his black tunic. He smiled as she passed him in the hall. "Good morning."

Arwen acknowledged him with a brief glance and their meeting gaze before moving past him completely into the dining room. She took her usual seat, the three Illyrians following suit around her.

"Mor is staying at her estate," Cassian filled in on their cousin's absence. "I don't disturb her when she's there."

Rhysand chuckled. "For the best."

The first thing Mor had done when she brought the land was tell Arwen she was welcome any time to escape the boisterous presences in the town house and the House of Wind. Although Arwen found the town house quiet enough most of the time, she certainly had been considering taking the offer up.

She made a loose point across the table. "Can you pass the salt?"

Instead of reaching for it, or even using magic to move it across the table, Rhysand made a show of splaying his arms out alongside his filled plate. "So now you want to talk to me?" he crooned. "I thought I must have been invisible for the last twelve hours."

Her eyes slithered into a firm glare. "I'd prefer if you were. I'll get it myself then." The wooden legs of her chair scraped against the ground until the small shaker of salt appeared in front of her. Arwen looked down the arm it was attached to. She muttered a small, "Thank you" and took it from Azriel.