TIMELESS - An ACOTAR Fanfiction

CHAPTER 5

"He did what to you?" Mor shrieked as she turned an incredulous look at Zivia.

The Seraphim recoiled a bit at her sudden outburst, Azriel snapping his head up from a document he's reading to look at them from across where he's seated. The three of them were gathered around an oak table in one of the studies at the House of Wind. After breakfast, Rhysand told them that he'd be taking care of some issues with Feyre regarding the still ongoing constructions at the city leaving them to talk about the negotiations on the continent.

After much pestering from Mor, Zivia recounted her sparring with Cassian yesterday, telling her about every single detail as she requested, when she got to the part involving her unceremoniously falling to the ground.

"That bastard better be glad that I wasn't there." Mor continued. "I would've beaten his ass myself for kicking a helpless lady in a battle."

"She wasn't exactly helpless, you know," chided Azriel who had gone back to his papers.

A sheepish blush crept up Zivia's neck.

"Right" Mor said returning her attention back on the table. "I wish I was there to witness it though."

"Where have you been yesterday?"

Mor tensed at Azriel's sudden question. She tried to meet his gaze. "Oh." A muscle twitched in her jaw. "I was . . .busy." She threw a nonchalant smile before occupying herself again with the papers.

Azriel's stare didn't stray from her face. It clearly wasn't the answer he wanted to hear and it's obvious that there's something that she's purposely not telling. He noticed Zivia watching them and went back to his own documents.

An awkward silence followed. They were supposed to be talking about things but they didn't. Save for occasional whispers of "look at this" or "this might be helpful", they just passed around papers to the other whenever someone found an information worth noting. It was a good few minutes of nothing but sounds of rustling papers.

"The shadows," Zivia said, breaking the silence that cocooned them. "They talk to you."

Mor and Azriel lifted their gazes from the files they're holding and turned to the Seraphim. Her attention was focused on the spymaster and the shadows that lurked around him.

"You can hear them?" asked Mor

"The wind; I hear their whispers through the wind."

The confusion must have shown in Mor's face that Zivia went on to explain.

"Seraphims are gifted with the magic of wind and air. We command and use them like it's an extension of our own body. I have long learned to understand how it feels and hear the voices it carries around."

She turned toward the Azriel and found him looking back with an unsure expression, tendrils of shadows sliding over his neck and down his arms.

"Az is a shadowsinger." Mor told her.

"Ah. Of course." She replied nodding her head at him. His wings shifted slightly before reaching for another one of the documents sprawled on the table.

**********

After the meeting with the townspeople at the city, Rhysand dropped off Feyre at the studio where Ressina and a group of children were already waiting, before flying to the House of Wind alone. Finding the three still deep in discussion, he took the seat at the head of the table and loosed a sigh as he took a paper from Azriel.

"Well, it seems that I was right to appoint you as our ambassador to the continent." He gave Mor a narrowed look. "You didn't scare them out of their wits to even actually consider opposing you, did you?"