A Song of Faithless Shadows

82. A Letter From Azriel

Dear Gwyneth,

I know you asked me to give you space, and I want to respect that. I do. But you told me that the only way I could lose you is by staying away, so this is me... staying. I encourage you to throw this letter in the fire if you have no wishes of ever hearing from me, and I'll find residence in the Illyrian mountainside and never bother you again.

If, however, you are still reading, I feel that first I should express why I'm writing to you. I'm not a romantic, nor am I a poet. It's my understanding that those two groups of people are best at writing letters, so I cannot promise prose. But I remembered us writing when your voice was gone. It's easier to do justice to what you mean with a pen, and you and I both know I'm prone to misspeaking. So I thought this might be best, laying out my soul on a piece of paper, something tangible that you can annotate or frame or rip to shreds at your wish.

Our night together... I never for a moment want you to think I didn't enjoy it, that I didn't feel things with you deeper than I've ever felt them before. It felt all new with you, and I never wanted to stop touching you. Never.

I hate think that you might've feared me in those moments. It kept crossing my mind during, this fear that I was hurting you, upsetting you. I hate to think that you were already upset before we laid together. I hate to think that's why you laid with me.

I never want you to feel obligated to a thing with me. If you didn't want to be touched by me ever again, I'd look at you like I look at the stars: I'd admire, but never come close. That is if that is something you wish.

But you, Angel, are someone I love in ways I've never loved before. So, if I'm being blunt, I wish to spend the rest of my life with you, to grow old with you, to take in strays to your heart's content, to make you breakfast while you sleep in, to make you smile even though I've never been funny a day in my life. To call you my mate, to call you mine, to be called yours.

But if that is not something you want, there is no obligation, in case that is not clear. I will be happy in any universe in which you are happy. That is my strongest want, Gwyneth.

I can't put a time to when I first started loving you. The sensation was new, strange. I couldn't name it until I was utterly drowning in it. I remember feeling it when you cut the ribbon, when you looked upon me with such determination that I nearly turned to smoke, but I don't think that's the first time I felt it.

It certainly wasn't the last.

The day I found out you were my mate, I had no earthly idea how to recover it. It felt so lost then, like there would be no second chance.

So when I got back in your graces, I promised I'd move with more caution. I refused to risk you again, whether that be your safety or your heart. I'd never push you beyond what you asked of me directly.

I kept my cards close to my chest. I burn things, Gwyneth, destroy them. I never wanted to do that to us— I didn't think I could handle it. I didn't think I could live with myself.

I just hope I haven't destroyed us now.

You always saw me though. When my mother wasn't well, you saw how spread thin I was. You saw the way I hid parts of myself away. You saw that shame and didn't wince from my scars. You coaxed those parts of me out like you coaxed Briar out of that torn bush months ago.

You are driven and intelligent and stubborn and kind and brave. So, so brave. It's all in your heart, sewn into the fabric of who you are, and you wear it so faithfully. I want to be in every room you're in. I want to hear the sounds of your breath as you fall asleep like a deaf man might want to hear a symphony.

Being around you makes my heart flutter like I'm just a boy looking up at the constellations again. My shadows watch you restlessly, grant you special privileges too. They probably knew before I did. Then again, I think nearly everybody did.

We looked so foolish, I imagine. Parading around like we weren't equal and opposite. Like you weren't it for me. You make me feel foolish and quite alright with being so.

I know why you wanted to forget. I saw Rhys' memory like I saw a phantom. You were trembling then. I wanted to tell you that you'd be alright, that you're the strongest person I know. But I couldn't be there for you then.

It's a hard thing I imagine. To feel all that at once. To feel so violated by men then to pivot to me. You probably feared me then too the way I rode in on a wave of blood. I don't blame you. I'm sorry that I couldn't have done more besides give you that stupid cloak. I'm sorry that the universe betrayed you, made the bond snap into place in the worst moment of your life.

You never deserved that.

Writing about it makes me furious. I have so many regrets about that day. I regret not making those men suffer longer. I regret not giving you the chance to kill them yourself. I regret not arriving just a little bit sooner...

And I regret making this about me.

I just want you to know that I've never regretted you. Not at any point. Not ever. You are the single best thing that has ever happened to me. Loving you has felt like one of those dreams I had when I was young, one I never wanted to wake up from where I won the heart of the princess. I never imagined it'd come true, even if for a short time. Even if you never want to see me again.

I want you to be well. I want to be open with you. I can't promise perfection. I am skeptical and cautious and overthinking. But you make me more open than anyone else I've ever known, including my brothers, including my own mother. I want to open myself to you, to be unflinching to the possibility of heartbreak. I want to be better for you. I want to walk in the light with you if you'll have me.

I love you, and I'll love you until I'm bones in the dirt, until I'm a speck in the universe, until I join the stars.

I love you, Gwyneth Berdera.

Yours Always,
Azriel