Wind Wielder

Chapter 24 - Settlements and Seduction

*** Trigger warning: Discussion of abuse, sexual abuse, trauma, impacts of trauma, and heavy themes. Please read at your own discretion***

Trying, as it turned out, was a lot easier than Zara thought it would be. Though she supposed that was greatly in part due to the people she had surrounding her.

Over the next two weeks, winter well and truly fell upon Velaris, the crisp air turning cold enough to have Zara's breath leaving her in plumes of mist whenever she stepped foot outside. Mor had taken her into the city to shop for new clothes. She got new dresses, a winter coat, a scarf and Night Court clothes of her own, including plenty of sets of the wide legged pants and cropped shirts Amren and Feyre seemed to love so much. It was odd to wear pants outside of being in her wind wielder robes in Dawn. But to finally be allowed to wear pants that were still feminine, to be allowed to wear pants at all in public... It did wonders for Zara's sense of self, for her sense of femininity. Not that Zara didn't love dresses. Because make no mistake, if having to choose between the two, seven times out of ten she would choose a dress. But to have that choice, to have that freedom to do so...

It made her feel brave. Empowered.

It had been a long time since Zara felt brave.

So brave in fact, that when Feyre offered to take her down into the Rainbow, she did not say no. And she watched a play with Feyre and Cassian. And then went to an art show with Feyre afterwards. And to see the glimmering shades of red and iridescent yellows and blues and golds, she'd had fun. Zara had lost herself in the beauty of art, of expression, and she had enjoyed every minute of it. She couldn't bear to go to a music show, not yet. But this, this had been enough. It had been a start. And Zara was grateful for it.

There was still no sign of Zara's lighting, and Rhys did not push. Instead, he had her learn how to winnow. And Mothers tits, it was brutal.

Zara knew she could do it. She had winnowed across entire Courts to get to Autumn on her very first try, all those weeks ago.

Rhys knew it too. Which is why he was an utterly brutal teacher. Pushing her and pushing her until she finally winnowed. And when Zara did, Rhys would encourage her to go farther, and farther, until her legs shook and her stomach burned with hunger and she was prepared to eat anything in sight. Even the snails and twigs were beginning to look particularly appetizing, a thought that horrified Zara to no end.

But easily the worst part of it all, was Zara's morning training with Azriel.

Azriel had been a torture master for longer than Zara had been alive. Had likely studied every nerve in the fae body, and learned what every facial expression, every noise of pain meant. And in the last few weeks, Azriel had learned her well.

Meaning he seemed to excel in bringing her to the brink of exhaustion each and every lesson.

The times Zara had actually expelled the contents of her stomach had been few, only twice actually. But without fail Azriel would push Zara so hard each morning drilling punching combinations into her head, making her practice them against a dummy, that she would have to pause for a moment, if only to contain her heaving. From there, he would place a practice wooden dagger in her hand, and make Zara review the eight pointed star, striking the dummy, and even sometimes Azriel's own practice dagger until her arms trembled and her hands struggled to clasp the dagger in her grip any longer.

It was exactly the sort of brutal endless training that anyone in their right mind would have grown to loathe.

But that was the problem. Zara didn't hate her morning training. Not one bit.