The Whispers of Shadows - A&A One Shots

another winter solstice

** A long one-shot because I didn't want to have to split it into two parts again!

When get another Winter Solstice came around, and Feyre demanded that no extra decorating was allowed for her birthday, the females gathered in the estate and chose to be just as wild as the males who were currently stationed at the cabin. There was no doubt that the crates of ales were already broken into as the annual snowball fight began. Nyx had won the year before, to Azriel's dismay, and bragged that he would win again.

The females, however, decided to wear their nicest gowns and lounge around drinking bottles upon bottles of Rhysand's best wines. Nesta's idea, of course. As the fireplace crackled and sputtered, and instrumental music blared from the symphony box along the bar, feminine energy spilled into the room. Females that were all warriors in their own way, who have matched and outmatched the males that had trained for centuries, now spun and giggled as their skirts fluttered in step with wild dances.

Aurora adored these types of days, where pigment stained her eyes and lips, when her bare feet ached from dancing so long, untamed hair long and flowing. It had been Feyre's wish for this year and many past: To dance and enjoy a day with her sisters and friends, to be the gleeful females that sat deep in all of their souls. It felt like an annual ritual, now.

As the sun anchored itself to the horizon and the glorious moon and stars began to wake, the music quieted and the laughter fell into tired chuckles. It was an awfully strange sight in this household: Females in delicate gowns sat in a wide circle on the floor, passing around several bottles of wine, the calluses from swords and bows unbeknownst to any onlookers. Not that there were any.

"My feet hurt," Feyre spoke in a slurring tone that was wrapped in a chuckle. Elain, whose head laid in the High Lady's lap, hummed her agreement. Feyre had mentioned that these days felt similar to the Calanmai she experienced in the Spring Court; dancing until legs and feet felt foreign and your head spun long after your body stopped. To Aurora's amusement, Feyre and Mor exclaimed how perfectly a night like that could be considered Aurora's birthday.

Aurora didn't know her own birthday, had never celebrated it, and didn't even know her own age. All she knew was that now, twenty-three years of being released from the sickening chamber, she was possibly near five hundred and thirty years old. It sounded fitting, a night of fire and sex. Aurora didn't let them mention celebrating it this year, however, because it also signified the start of spring, and spring was not a season Aurora was settled with yet.

"We need more wine," Emerie murmured, unsteadily climbing to her feet and stumbling from the sitting room. The group had shoved all furniture against the walls to create the most ample space for wild dancing. Finally, a bottle got placed in Aurora's hands. She took it gratefully and brought it to her lips. A frown formed when nothing but a drop hit her tongue.

"There's no more wine," she pouted, looking up at the others. Gwyn laughed and crawled across the circle with a nearly empty bottle, holding it out to her.

"That's why Em went to get more, here's the rest of mine," she spoke with a breath of a laugh. Aurora took the bottle with a grateful smile and knocked back the rest of it. The bittersweet taste ran down her tongue and throat and Aurora felt as if her mind was working far slower than her body. Her eyes opened and she tilted her head back forward, flinching when Gwyn was sat just in front of her. How long had she tasted that wine?

"Aurora, I think it's time to stop for a while," Elain slurred as she sat up from Feyre's lap. She blinked and nodded, setting the bottles down. Aurora was just as drunk as the rest of them, maybe more. She had lost herself in the bottles when she and Nesta had been twirling near the window.