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@colinsglasses
About Mor's power in acotar
I was discussing theories with my fiance and I told him how the Fandom is like "what does that even mean her power is truth?"
And he said, "maybe she knows when she's being lied to or people can't lie to her" (and then the nerd like he is said) "like the zone of truth spell in d&d"
Now I haven't gone back thru the books to find evidence of this but that's what I think her power of truth means lol
@gwynrielweeksofficial
Gwynriel Weeks 2024 - Day 14 | Free Day
🚨CC3 Spoilers ahead!🚨
Author's Note: I had this idea to write what happened when Azriel returns from the tunnels under the Prison - where did he go, what was his mood, etc. So this fic is my headcanon of what happens! I felt that Free Day was a perfect day to post it. It was hard to choose any other day because this fic has a little bit of everything that make up Gwynriel: firsts, mates, theories, music, healing, etc.
This story has it all: hurt/comfort, angst, sparring, TT theory, mate theory, Gwyn/Shadows
Mentions of SA, past trauma, and self harm
Song of the Shadowsinger
Gwyneth Berdara stared down the block of wood in front of her, imagining some unknown, terrifying creature that escaped the clutches of the Prison to wreak havoc upon Velaris. She lunged forward, once… twice …and struck the block with immense force. Chips of wood flew into the air, her breath came out in quick bursts with each hit. She chuckled to herself as she finished the set, having imagined she'd bested the beast.
Then she heard a familiar noise. One she'd been waiting to hear for days. The sound of wings beating, followed by the thud of boots on dirt.
Gwyneth Berdara stared down the block of wood in front of her, imagining some unknown, terrifying creature that escaped the clutches of the Prison to wreak havoc upon Velaris. She lunged forward, once… twice …chips of wood flew into the air as she struck the block with immense force. Her breath came out in quick bursts with each hit. She chuckled to herself as she finished the set, having imagined she'd bested the beast.
Then she heard a familiar noise. One she'd been waiting to hear for days. The sound of wings beating, followed by the thud of boots on dirt.
She made to turn around and offer a hello, but the dark, shadowy newcomer was already surging past Gwyn, his arm outstretched, aiming right for a block of wood with a mat strapped to it. The shadows that surrounded him whirled in a furious storm, wreathing him in darkness.
Blue magic surged from his outstretched hands, illuminating the sky and trees around them. Again and again he threw them, sending a barrage of assaults at the training equipment.
Before the glowing azure tendrils of magic fully dissipated, the Shadowsinger was on the block, his fists flying in a fury against the mat. Sparks of blue cinders flew out from beneath his fists.
Gwyn dropped her training sword to the ground as she gawked at the alarming display in front of her. If Azriel heard her or was aware of her presence, he didn't show it. Even his shadows were loyally at his side; not one had come to say hello to her.
She rushed forward calling out his name, “Az?” Azriel continued his assault on the punching dummy, a primal growl ripping from his lips with every hit. Gwyn could hear the wood cracking beneath his strikes.
“Azriel!”
She feared he may wound himself if he didn't stop as the Shadowsinger’s punches fell and fell relentlessly against the defenseless dummy.
Gwyn came to his side, just out of reach from a punch, but not from his magic. Azriel didn't flinch, he didn't falter. He didn't even look over at Gwyn and acknowledge her, just pure fury and anguish laced his features. His hazel eyes were dark with whatever was weighing on him. His punches came in harder and harder, the wood splintering from the impact.
“Az!”
Nothing.
Either he truly couldn't hear her, or he was purposefully ignoring her.
Mother help me for the stupid thing I'm about to do. She prayed.
Gwyn grabbed Azriel's right forearm as he punched forward. His gaze snapped to hers. It was definitely Azriel in front of her, but there was something behind his eyes; a monster clawing to be released. Before Azriel could react, Gwyn twisted his arm behind his back as she kicked his leg out from under him at the same time, bringing the Shadowsinger to his knees. She leaned down.
“Enough!” She ordered. “You're destroying Valkyrie property and your knuckles.” Azriel pulled against her grip, but in his rage he seemed to have forgotten that he taught her everything she knew about taking down an opponent. Her grip tightened as she placed a hand between his shoulder blades and pushed him forward. “I said, enough, Azriel.”
Gwyn's heart was racing. She'd never spoken to the Shadowsinger like that before, never even imagined it. In the few months that she'd gotten to know him, talk to him …Gods she was an idiot for even trying. He could turn around and snap her neck in an instant….but of course, this wasn't just the Shadowsinger and Spy Master of the Night Court.
No. This was Azriel. Her mentor. Her fellow warrior. Her friend. Her….
“Do you yield?” She asked, her chest heaved with the rush of adrenaline.
He didn't answer. “Az -”
“Yes,” he rasped. “Yes. I yield.” His shoulders slumped forward as Gwyn released her grip. Azriel let himself crumple to the ground, one leg tucked under him, the other bent upright, his arm propped atop it. He breathed heavily, defeated.
Gwyn squatted down beside him. She watched as his shadows and wings appeared to slump with him, settling to the ground.
“I normally don't find it my place to intrude on others personal lives, especially when they're not so forthcoming, but…do you mind telling me what that was?” She asked, gesturing to the singed training equipment.
Azriel didn't look up right away. Instead he stared at a spot on the ground for another beat before turning to Gwyn. The turbulent darkness that clouded his eyes before was still there, giving his features a hard unforgiving stare. Behind it, she saw the pain and the agony. Gwyn's heart broke, her chest cracking at the sight of her friend in so much anguish. She shifted to sit cross legged in front of him, offering the most she could do in this moment.
Listen.
“I failed a mission,” he grunted.
Gwyn blinked and turned her head to the side. Of all the things she thought he would say, that was not it. “What does that mean to you, to fail a mission? Why do you believe you failed?”
Azriel stared at her, the icy cold of his gaze bored into her. She could see why people would flinch away, give him a wide berth. Even defeated and slumped on the ground, the Shadowsinger looked like a predator ready to pounce on their prey.
Gwyn was as unfaltering as he was though and returned the hard stare. She wasn't scared of him, she was here for him, and she wanted him to know that. His shadows were still dark and the ferocity of the emotions he was feeling was palpable.
“It means, I was sent out on a mission and failed,” he grounded out. He sprung up onto his feet, startling Gwyn. She followed, standing tall before the icy Shadowsinger. He turned as if he meant to walk away.
Gwyn huffed, “Well I could gather that.” He didn't look back at her, the stubborn fool was really going to just walk away.
“Azriel,” she stepped in front of him before he could take another step. His eyes widened slightly at her sudden presence. His shadows stopped their persistent undulating, coming to shiver at his shoulders as if they too found it surprising that she was standing before him.
She peered up. “You came in and shot magic at a training dummy - that may I remind you Emerie made, with discarded materials from her shop - and then you proceeded to punch it like candy was going to fall from it if you hit it hard enough.”
She swept her arm out towards the training dummy in question, “And you splintered the wood.”
He glanced at the dummy and winced.
Gwyn continued, “Look - it's not about the dummy. It's about you.” He furrowed his brows. “Are you okay?”
Azriel's chest rose and fell in a quick, steady rhythm. At first, she thought he was going to turn tail and try to run again. Or maybe even yell at her for asking, for intruding on his business. When he finally spoke though, his voice was thick and raspy.
“No.” His shadows pulsed.
“What do you need?” She asked, taking a step towards him. He seemed to stop breathing entirely. Gwyn watched as the beast of his emotions battled with an internal struggle.
That's when his shadows decided to come out to her, slowly gliding through the air before wrapping around her fingers. Gwyn gave them a small smile.
Azriel’s eyes flicked to the shadows that reached for Gwyn’s wrapped and freckled hands, then to his own scarred and bruised ones, then to the training ring.
Finally, his gaze found Gwyn's again.
“I - I don't know,” he said.
Gwyn glanced at his hands and to the training ring too. Perhaps he needed something to focus on, a way to ground himself back to reality.
“Do you want to spar?”
Azriel clenched and unclenched his fists. “I shouldn't, not when I'm….”
Gwyn couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips, “Please. You think I'm scared of the big, bad Shadowsinger?” Gwyn could've sworn Azriels's features softened, just a tad, but still he tried to dissuade her.
“I don't want to hurt you.”
Gwyn tightened the cuffs of her training leathers as she started walking backwards towards the ring. “I trust you, Shadowsinger.” Her heart fluttered, because she did, she trusted him with every fiber of her being and he needed to know that. Even with the fury that emanated from him, she trusted Azriel. She knew if she could give him a distraction, something to give him focus, she could talk anything out of him.
He also needed to sort out whatever this was, find some structure. Sparring meant following a structure, a structure they were both familiar with and where the rules were respected. “We're sparring, but under one condition.”
Azriel stayed rooted to the spot as a couple of his shadows danced around him. “What is your condition?” He asked.
“If I get a hit on you, you have to answer a question.”
“What kind of question?”
“About your mission.”
Azriel debated for a moment then stepped forward, “And if I get a hit?”
Gwyn shrugged, “Name it.”
“You answer a question of my choosing.”
Gwyn smirked, “How original.” She could've sworn she saw the corner of his mouth twitch. Bring it on, Shadowsinger.
“Deal,” she said.
He gave her a slight nod as he stepped forward. “Deal.”
The planes of his stone-cold features were contoured by the shadows of the moonlight as he ventured into the ring. She rolled her shoulders as they began circling each other slowly.
Gwyn subtly assessed the Shadowsinger. First, she noted how his emotions had changed how he carried himself. His jaw was clenched and his hazel eyes pierced through the darkness around them in an almost wicked manner, glinting in the glow of the fae lights that circled the training area. What had he seen or done on this mission in order for him to slip into this rage induced state?
He didn't appear to be injured, but she didn't miss how his steps fell just a hair too heavy compared to the grace she knew Azriel possessed. He hid it well, but Gwyn could tell he was exhausted. Did he get proper rest or was he awake and alert the whole time? Gwyn guessed the latter...
Azriel - taking this moment while she assessed him - lunged forward, his arm coming up to attempt to land a blow on her shoulder.
Gods he was quick. Even with his slower gait, he moved with the agility of a feline. Regardless, Gwyn ducked, narrowly avoiding the blow and jabbed up at his ribs. Az anticipated the move and jumped back, spinning back on his heel, his elbow aiming to catch her other shoulder, but again she dodged it. They rounded and faced each other.
“Come on Shadowsinger, is that the best you got?” She cooed, goading him to react.
Sure enough, Azriel reacted. It seemed tempting him to come at her was going to be an easier task when he was in this bestial state. He kicked out and Gwyn grabbed his boot. With one strong pull, she had him careening forward, his leg in her grasp. She brought her elbow down to jab him behind the knee, dropping Azriel to the dirt.
“Point,” Gwyn called out. She extended her hand out for him to take. Which he did, a flash of eagerness crossed his face as he stood.
“Now…for your first question…” Gwyn started. “What was one good thing that happened on your mission?”
Azriel stared after her, then answered, “Nesta felled a Middengard Wyrm.”
The corners of Gwyn's mouth dipped down, “Impressive.”
“You know of them?”
They had dropped back into their sparring positions, circling a few times as they conversed. “I’ve read a few passages on them. I know they're not easy to kill.” Gwyn jabbed forward, trying to throw Azriel off balance, but he skipped back with ease. She narrowed her eyes at him then, “That was a free question and answer for you. If you want to ask me something, you gotta hit me.” His shadows whipped around him joyously as Azriel smirked at her sass.
A bit of that primal rage fuelled the sheer intensity of his features, as he promptly closed the distance between them. He grabbed her shoulder and threw her back behind him. His landing blow followed, coming down firmly across her shoulder blades. The hit knocked her to the ground. The course earth beneath her dug into her hands and knees as she caught herself.
She twisted to look over her shoulder and found an extended scarred hand and a devilish face peering down at her.
“Point. Have you read anything on interdimensional travel?”
Gwyn took Azriel's outstretched hand and stood. She gawked at him, surprised by his question. “I have actually…why?”
Amusement sparkled in his eye. “A hit for a question, Berdara.”
There he was.
Azriel's shoulders dropped and his stare was slightly less intense. His shadows had all but relaxed and their darkness faded back to normal as if they mirrored some part of Azriel that was coming down from the emotional rollercoaster he was just on. They settled around his wings, content to watch the sparring match between the two.
Just keep chiseling away.
They went on for quite some time; both of them getting enough hits on each other to ask as many questions as their heart’s desired.
“What was another good thing that happened?” Gwyn asked as she won another point.
“I learned what a phone was.”
Gwyn giggled, “A what?”
“A phone.”
Gwyn pressed her lips together. “I didn't quite catch that.”
“A pho-” Azriel snapped his mouth shut, realizing what she was doing. “Very funny.” This time, when he smiled it stayed. “It sounds rather strange to say, but it's an incredible device.” All traces of hardness on his face were gone.
A good knock to the side of Gwyn's knee moments later revealed Azriel's next question. “What do you know about interdimensional travel?”
“Oh, not a whole lot. Merril was researching it and although I was recording and copying some passages for her it was a very intricate and confusing and sometimes boring topic. Though I bet if I took the time to read it and study it I'd figure something out.”
He nodded without a word and they continued.
Gwyn clipped Azriel's shoulder and asked, “What was one thing that didn't go as planned on your mission?”
Azriel was silent through a couple more minutes of sparring before he answered. Gwyn could see his mind working, deciding what he wanted to tell her. “The person we were tracking got away - and we can't just track them again to get them back.” He grunted as Gwyn lunged forward, sending a punch to his gut for another point.
“Why not?” She asked, tilting her head.
Azriel stood up straight, his hand on his stomach, “Because they escaped through a portal to another world.”
Gwyn's mouth dropped open. “So that's why you're asking about interdimensional travel.” Gwyn shot forward, a twirling and graceful display of flying limbs that, unfortunately, did not best the Shadowsinger and he landed another blow to her arm.
“Would you help me research it?”
Gwyn stilled. “Really?”
Azriel's cheeks flushed in the moonlight, “Yes. If you think you can handle teaching me something.”
“Is that a challenge, Shadowsinger?”
“Is that a question, Berdara?”
Gwyn narrowed her eyes and sprung at Azriel, getting not one, but two hits in her surprise attack. “That should cover my challenge question and the next one."
Azriel chuckled, “Yes, it's a challenge. If you're willing to of course. I can't think of anyone else I'd entrust to aid me.” He brushed off some dirt from his pants and looked back up at Gwyn. Her heart all but stopped in her chest.
She smiled. “Challenge accepted.”
“Good.” All traces of that monster were gone now, but a sadness remained. "And your second question?"
"What else didn't go as planned?”
Azriel sighed, “They took a powerful sword…and Truth-Teller before opening the portal and leaving.” His voice broke as he mentioned his favorite dagger. "And let's just say Rhys isn't pleased." Gwyn glanced at his thigh where Truth-Teller was usually sheathed, and noted that it was, in fact, empty. That is when Gwyn realized Azriel wasn't just upset about failing the mission -
He was upset about what he lost on the mission and who he failed.
“Ah…I see.” Gwyn dropped her arms and walked over to where Azriel stood on the outskirts of the ring. “Do you want to talk about it freely, without sparring?”
He shrugged, “It's...nothing, really.”
Gwyn barked out a laugh. Azriel stared back at her, perplexed as his shadows twirled around her ankles.
“Sorry, I don't mean to laugh, but Az, if it was nothing you wouldn't have come in here magic blazing and fists flying.” She crossed her arms and cocked a brow at him as she continued, "You're upset - you feel you failed by not bringing this person back, but also because they took a powerful sword. You feel you failed Rhys -"
"More than Rhys," he interrupted. " I failed Velaris...the people of Prythian -" His eyes widened, his gaze falling to the ground. "Everyone." His face pulled into one of disappointment.
"That's - unrealistic, Az. You can't carry that weight. It's not fair to you."
His eyes snapped up to meet hers. "It's my job -"
"But it's not your only purpose." Gwyn held his gaze as he blinked, startled by her words. "Azriel, you are more than whatever it is you do for Rhys. You are a living being with wants and needs and feelings. You lost something that obviously meant a lot to you and you're not even allowing yourself to feel that loss.”
Her words struck a chord. Azriel's shoulders dropped and his chin dipped down. When he looked back up at her his eyes were rimmed with silver. “My mother had given Truth-Teller to me, when I was employed by Rhys’ father. She said it was passed down from generation to generation and that it would aid me in all my endeavors.”
Azriel had never once spoken of his mother to Gwyn. Hearing him talk about her - Gwyn could feel the absolute love he had for his mother in the way he spoke. She gave him a small smile and relaxed her arms from where they'd been crossed on her chest. “I'm sorry you lost it.”
Gwyn walked over to him. Her chest tightened and that pull, that godsdamned pull…. told her she needed to reach out and touch him, console him. So she did. She took one of his hands in hers. The bumps and divots of his scars were comforting against her calloused hands. The touch pulled at her chest again, the sound like a soothing lullaby. Was he even aware of the pull? Did he even know the music their souls made together? Did he feel…anything?
His shadows wrapped around their joined hands, their touch a soft caress. She swallowed, waiting for him to say something. He looked back at her with glossy eyes, his brows relaxed slowly.
“Thank you, Gwyn,” he said softly, squeezing her hand.
She returned the gesture. “Anytime, Azriel.” She let his hand fall from hers because if she held on any longer, she might not want to let go. This was one of their first intimate touches, something that went beyond dagger handling and training. It was more meaningful and full of sincerity, and she could have sworn his fingers wrapped tightly around hers, holding on just a little bit longer before allowing the release to happen.
Azriel cleared his throat, “Want to know something else that happened on the mission?”
Gwyns eyes lit up, “Absolutely.”
“I got to hear music from their…world.”
Gwyns mouth popped open and a string of questions followed, “What's it like? Is it different from ours? Could you understand the words to the songs? Were there words to the songs or is it all instrumental?” Azriel grinned at her curiosity and excitement.
“There were words. I couldn't understand them, but I didn't need to with some of the music we heard. The emotions combined with the sounds they were able to create with the technology they have was very moving. It’s much more varied than ours.” Gwyn waited for him to continue. She wanted to know everything about what Azriel heard. They'd discussed music a little bit with each other after that night in the training ring on the Winter Solstice, but she still hadn't heard him sing. It was slowly killing her, waiting to hear the Shadowsinger open his mouth and create something magical and beautiful with it.
“Varied how?”
“Well, they do have something similar to ours with an instrumental sound, but they also have music called heavy metal and folk and club music -” he smiled as he mentioned the club music.
“What's club music?” She asked, tilting her head. His shadows oscillated excitedly around him.
Azriel blushed, “That - is actually rather hard to describe.”
Gwyn rolled her eyes and gave him a playful shove on the shoulders, “Oh come now,” she started. “Perhaps you can sing it? Or mimic it in some way?” She tried giving him pleading, puppy dog eyes, hoping her sly attempt at finally getting to hear him create music would work.
Azriel pressed his lips together. How difficult could it possibly be to mimic music?
“Describing club music truly is an obstacle. It's drums and string instruments, but amplified…loud as if there are hundreds of them playing at an extremely fast pace. To replicate it would be near impossible, if not slightly embarrassing.” Gwyn laughed, making a mental note to make that her next challenge - getting Azriel to replicate club music.
“Their folk music on the other hand…” His voice wavered and he shifted his weight from foot to foot. A rare showing of nerves from the stony Shadowsinger. “...I could replicate for you, if -” Gwyn gasped.
She could do nothing to stop the little happy dance her feet did. “Yes!” She exclaimed, interrupting him. “Please do, gods I've been dying for this moment.” Gwyn clasped her hands together in front of her and beamed up at Azriel.
He gave a deep, nervous laugh, “Well then, I hope I won't disappoint.”
“You have yet to do so in my eyes, Shadowsinger,” she replied as she reached out, her hands gently grasping his upper arms, giving him a reassuring squeeze. Feeling his muscles under her fingers made her tremble. Gods he was beautiful. Slightly embarrassed by all the touching, she pulled her arms away and tucked them behind her back. She took a step back, “What will you be singing for me on this gorgeous evening, Az.”
Azriel blinked. “A folk song called Stone Mother,” he started. “Now, I don't know the words, they were obviously in a different language, but…”
“Gods Shadowsinger, you're killing me!”
Azriel bit back a smile, “You look as if you're about to implode, priestess. Are you that excited to hear me sing?”
Gwyn's heart leapt at the use of her nickname. “Obviously! Now come, just hum it or do ‘ohs’ and ‘ahs’ - as you said, it wasn't necessary to understand the words.”
Azriel smiled at her impatience and enthusiasm. “As you wish.” He took a few deep breaths then moments later Azriel opened his mouth and sang the folk song for her, taking her advice and using simple syllable sounds to recreate the song. The soothing, low tenor of his voice carried around the training ring.
Gwyn watched with admiration. He had started out a little shaky, but once he got into a rhythm the notes came out in beautiful crescendos and diminuendos. The variation was such a stark contrast to his speaking voice which was usually so low, even flat. His shadows danced with the rhythm, waving and undulating around him, growing bigger the longer he sang - the more confident he became.
It made Gwyn's heart sing, and she yearned to join him. She wanted to create that delicate balance of sound and rhythm, to let her voice carry over and under his. She wanted to dance with his shadows as they swirled and twirled around them.
She also just wanted to watch and listen, to let him bask in this limelight. Azriel looked so happy singing. His hazel eyes were lit with joy and his face formed emotion-filled expressions - and that voice. It vibrated throughout Gwyn, making her hum with emotion - his emotions, she realized, as she felt them first in her chest, glowing and thrumming through the bond she knew they shared.
Gwyn let her thoughts carry her to that little kernel of knowledge she had - that she and Azriel were mates. Gwyn recalled the moment she had felt it. She had been unable to move from where she was curled up on the kitchen floor in the temple, tears streaming down her face, covered in blood - hers and possibly others.
Bodies laid unmoving all around the room, her sister was only a few feet from her, but she couldn't look - couldn't bring herself to lift her gaze from the floor.
She had been vaguely aware of what had happened. One moment a Hybern soldier had his hands on her, the sound of his belt buckle falling open - it ended up being the last sound he made before his presence behind her disappeared. Their laughter stopped, their disgusting remarks ceased.
Silence followed.
Time seemed to slow, Gwyn's body wracked with sobs.
And then it happened.
The comforting weight of a cloak draped around her as she finally picked her head up, her teary-eyed teal eyes met fury-fuelled hazel ones. Gwyn thought she was going mad because the next moment tendrils of golden light unraveled from her chest, reaching towards the black clad newcomer in front of her.
Snap.
The wind was knocked out of her as the tendrils pulled taut, tethering her to the male crouching before her. Without hesitation she took his outstretched hands and let him help her to stand. If he had felt it, had experienced the same thing, he didn't show it.
Now, here she was, watching with admiration as Azriel stood before her, baring the most he's ever let anyone see. Did he know he was baring his soul to his mate? Telling her all the things that made his heart ache, gave him nightmares at night?
Did he know they were mates?
Gwyn wanted to shout it from the rooftops, because this kind, compassionate, talented male in front of her was hers. Some day she would. Someday she would tell anyone who would listen, but for now, Gwyn was going to enjoy the song of the Shadowsinger and cherish the smile it brought to his lips.
End notes: I really loved writing this and I'm so glad I got to participate in #GwynrielWeeks2024! I wanted to add that I totally believe that Gwyn will crack jokes to him about losing TT, eventually...but I also think Az needs someone to console him first too. That's a big loss for him and just how he was described as pleading for Bryce to hand it back tells me he is not okay lol
Where did TT come from? idk the thought that his mother gave it to him could also explain his sadness over losing it, but I also saw a theory (I don't remember who said it or where I saw it) that Mor had given it to him, that it was one of many daggers she's given, but Mor didn't confirm that, Feyre only thought it so idk about that...but of course it's possible! He could've also just come across it somewhere randomly like Ruhn did with the sword so who knows!
I also think it's possible that Az and Gwyn have been gifted these 'singer' abilities. I didn't really touch on it with Gwyn's powers in this fic, but I think about magical powers in terms of where they originate from. If Gwyn does have lightsinger abilities, then there is a beastial side to it, but then the same goes for Az. I don't believe Az and Gwyn are evil, rather just gifted the abilities and those abilities happen to have features that come out as they're used. I bet if/when Gwyn taps into the depths of her true powers she's going to have this ethereal terrifying beauty about her (think of Galadriel in LoTR when she's yells at Frodo and she's scary looking) but again NOT EVIL.
Also random and again I don't really touch on it here, but I think Az was born with his shadows I KNOW Rhys says "In the centuries I’d known him, he’d said little about his life, those years in his father’s keep, locked in darkness. Perhaps the shadowsinger gift had come to him then, perhaps he’d taught himself the language of shadow and wind and stone." But he's saying perhaps, he's speculating because even he doesn't know. It would also explain why his father would keep him rather than get rid of him or end his life because he could probably bargain with the high lord of the night court at the time for a selfish thing in return....but that's my opinion! lol
Anyway, hope you enjoyed! Happy Gwynriel Weeks!
Reblogging my own thing cuz I don't think Tumblr wants it seen lol
@gwynrielweeksofficial
Gwynriel Weeks 2024 - Day 14 | Free Day
🚨CC3 Spoilers ahead!🚨
Author's Note: I had this idea to write what happened when Azriel returns from the tunnels under the Prison - where did he go, what was his mood, etc. So this fic is my headcanon of what happens! I felt that Free Day was a perfect day to post it. It was hard to choose any other day because this fic has a little bit of everything that make up Gwynriel: firsts, mates, theories, music, healing, etc.
This story has it all: hurt/comfort, angst, sparring, TT theory, mate theory, Gwyn/Shadows
Mentions of SA, past trauma, and self harm
Song of the Shadowsinger
Gwyneth Berdara stared down the block of wood in front of her, imagining some unknown, terrifying creature that escaped the clutches of the Prison to wreak havoc upon Velaris. She lunged forward, once… twice …and struck the block with immense force. Chips of wood flew into the air, her breath came out in quick bursts with each hit. She chuckled to herself as she finished the set, having imagined she'd bested the beast.
Then she heard a familiar noise. One she'd been waiting to hear for days. The sound of wings beating, followed by the thud of boots on dirt.
Gwyneth Berdara stared down the block of wood in front of her, imagining some unknown, terrifying creature that escaped the clutches of the Prison to wreak havoc upon Velaris. She lunged forward, once… twice …chips of wood flew into the air as she struck the block with immense force. Her breath came out in quick bursts with each hit. She chuckled to herself as she finished the set, having imagined she'd bested the beast.
Then she heard a familiar noise. One she'd been waiting to hear for days. The sound of wings beating, followed by the thud of boots on dirt.
She made to turn around and offer a hello, but the dark, shadowy newcomer was already surging past Gwyn, his arm outstretched, aiming right for a block of wood with a mat strapped to it. The shadows that surrounded him whirled in a furious storm, wreathing him in darkness.
Blue magic surged from his outstretched hands, illuminating the sky and trees around them. Again and again he threw them, sending a barrage of assaults at the training equipment.
Before the glowing azure tendrils of magic fully dissipated, the Shadowsinger was on the block, his fists flying in a fury against the mat. Sparks of blue cinders flew out from beneath his fists.
Gwyn dropped her training sword to the ground as she gawked at the alarming display in front of her. If Azriel heard her or was aware of her presence, he didn't show it. Even his shadows were loyally at his side; not one had come to say hello to her.
She rushed forward calling out his name, “Az?” Azriel continued his assault on the punching dummy, a primal growl ripping from his lips with every hit. Gwyn could hear the wood cracking beneath his strikes.
“Azriel!”
She feared he may wound himself if he didn't stop as the Shadowsinger’s punches fell and fell relentlessly against the defenseless dummy.
Gwyn came to his side, just out of reach from a punch, but not from his magic. Azriel didn't flinch, he didn't falter. He didn't even look over at Gwyn and acknowledge her, just pure fury and anguish laced his features. His hazel eyes were dark with whatever was weighing on him. His punches came in harder and harder, the wood splintering from the impact.
“Az!”
Nothing.
Either he truly couldn't hear her, or he was purposefully ignoring her.
Mother help me for the stupid thing I'm about to do. She prayed.
Gwyn grabbed Azriel's right forearm as he punched forward. His gaze snapped to hers. It was definitely Azriel in front of her, but there was something behind his eyes; a monster clawing to be released. Before Azriel could react, Gwyn twisted his arm behind his back as she kicked his leg out from under him at the same time, bringing the Shadowsinger to his knees. She leaned down.
“Enough!” She ordered. “You're destroying Valkyrie property and your knuckles.” Azriel pulled against her grip, but in his rage he seemed to have forgotten that he taught her everything she knew about taking down an opponent. Her grip tightened as she placed a hand between his shoulder blades and pushed him forward. “I said, enough, Azriel.”
Gwyn's heart was racing. She'd never spoken to the Shadowsinger like that before, never even imagined it. In the few months that she'd gotten to know him, talk to him …Gods she was an idiot for even trying. He could turn around and snap her neck in an instant….but of course, this wasn't just the Shadowsinger and Spy Master of the Night Court.
No. This was Azriel. Her mentor. Her fellow warrior. Her friend. Her….
“Do you yield?” She asked, her chest heaved with the rush of adrenaline.
He didn't answer. “Az -”
“Yes,” he rasped. “Yes. I yield.” His shoulders slumped forward as Gwyn released her grip. Azriel let himself crumple to the ground, one leg tucked under him, the other bent upright, his arm propped atop it. He breathed heavily, defeated.
Gwyn squatted down beside him. She watched as his shadows and wings appeared to slump with him, settling to the ground.
“I normally don't find it my place to intrude on others personal lives, especially when they're not so forthcoming, but…do you mind telling me what that was?” She asked, gesturing to the singed training equipment.
Azriel didn't look up right away. Instead he stared at a spot on the ground for another beat before turning to Gwyn. The turbulent darkness that clouded his eyes before was still there, giving his features a hard unforgiving stare. Behind it, she saw the pain and the agony. Gwyn's heart broke, her chest cracking at the sight of her friend in so much anguish. She shifted to sit cross legged in front of him, offering the most she could do in this moment.
Listen.
“I failed a mission,” he grunted.
Gwyn blinked and turned her head to the side. Of all the things she thought he would say, that was not it. “What does that mean to you, to fail a mission? Why do you believe you failed?”
Azriel stared at her, the icy cold of his gaze bored into her. She could see why people would flinch away, give him a wide berth. Even defeated and slumped on the ground, the Shadowsinger looked like a predator ready to pounce on their prey.
Gwyn was as unfaltering as he was though and returned the hard stare. She wasn't scared of him, she was here for him, and she wanted him to know that. His shadows were still dark and the ferocity of the emotions he was feeling was palpable.
“It means, I was sent out on a mission and failed,” he grounded out. He sprung up onto his feet, startling Gwyn. She followed, standing tall before the icy Shadowsinger. He turned as if he meant to walk away.
Gwyn huffed, “Well I could gather that.” He didn't look back at her, the stubborn fool was really going to just walk away.
“Azriel,” she stepped in front of him before he could take another step. His eyes widened slightly at her sudden presence. His shadows stopped their persistent undulating, coming to shiver at his shoulders as if they too found it surprising that she was standing before him.
She peered up. “You came in and shot magic at a training dummy - that may I remind you Emerie made, with discarded materials from her shop - and then you proceeded to punch it like candy was going to fall from it if you hit it hard enough.”
She swept her arm out towards the training dummy in question, “And you splintered the wood.”
He glanced at the dummy and winced.
Gwyn continued, “Look - it's not about the dummy. It's about you.” He furrowed his brows. “Are you okay?”
Azriel's chest rose and fell in a quick, steady rhythm. At first, she thought he was going to turn tail and try to run again. Or maybe even yell at her for asking, for intruding on his business. When he finally spoke though, his voice was thick and raspy.
“No.” His shadows pulsed.
“What do you need?” She asked, taking a step towards him. He seemed to stop breathing entirely. Gwyn watched as the beast of his emotions battled with an internal struggle.
That's when his shadows decided to come out to her, slowly gliding through the air before wrapping around her fingers. Gwyn gave them a small smile.
Azriel’s eyes flicked to the shadows that reached for Gwyn’s wrapped and freckled hands, then to his own scarred and bruised ones, then to the training ring.
Finally, his gaze found Gwyn's again.
“I - I don't know,” he said.
Gwyn glanced at his hands and to the training ring too. Perhaps he needed something to focus on, a way to ground himself back to reality.
“Do you want to spar?”
Azriel clenched and unclenched his fists. “I shouldn't, not when I'm….”
Gwyn couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips, “Please. You think I'm scared of the big, bad Shadowsinger?” Gwyn could've sworn Azriels's features softened, just a tad, but still he tried to dissuade her.
“I don't want to hurt you.”
Gwyn tightened the cuffs of her training leathers as she started walking backwards towards the ring. “I trust you, Shadowsinger.” Her heart fluttered, because she did, she trusted him with every fiber of her being and he needed to know that. Even with the fury that emanated from him, she trusted Azriel. She knew if she could give him a distraction, something to give him focus, she could talk anything out of him.
He also needed to sort out whatever this was, find some structure. Sparring meant following a structure, a structure they were both familiar with and where the rules were respected. “We're sparring, but under one condition.”
Azriel stayed rooted to the spot as a couple of his shadows danced around him. “What is your condition?” He asked.
“If I get a hit on you, you have to answer a question.”
“What kind of question?”
“About your mission.”
Azriel debated for a moment then stepped forward, “And if I get a hit?”
Gwyn shrugged, “Name it.”
“You answer a question of my choosing.”
Gwyn smirked, “How original.” She could've sworn she saw the corner of his mouth twitch. Bring it on, Shadowsinger.
“Deal,” she said.
He gave her a slight nod as he stepped forward. “Deal.”
The planes of his stone-cold features were contoured by the shadows of the moonlight as he ventured into the ring. She rolled her shoulders as they began circling each other slowly.
Gwyn subtly assessed the Shadowsinger. First, she noted how his emotions had changed how he carried himself. His jaw was clenched and his hazel eyes pierced through the darkness around them in an almost wicked manner, glinting in the glow of the fae lights that circled the training area. What had he seen or done on this mission in order for him to slip into this rage induced state?
He didn't appear to be injured, but she didn't miss how his steps fell just a hair too heavy compared to the grace she knew Azriel possessed. He hid it well, but Gwyn could tell he was exhausted. Did he get proper rest or was he awake and alert the whole time? Gwyn guessed the latter...
Azriel - taking this moment while she assessed him - lunged forward, his arm coming up to attempt to land a blow on her shoulder.
Gods he was quick. Even with his slower gait, he moved with the agility of a feline. Regardless, Gwyn ducked, narrowly avoiding the blow and jabbed up at his ribs. Az anticipated the move and jumped back, spinning back on his heel, his elbow aiming to catch her other shoulder, but again she dodged it. They rounded and faced each other.
“Come on Shadowsinger, is that the best you got?” She cooed, goading him to react.
Sure enough, Azriel reacted. It seemed tempting him to come at her was going to be an easier task when he was in this bestial state. He kicked out and Gwyn grabbed his boot. With one strong pull, she had him careening forward, his leg in her grasp. She brought her elbow down to jab him behind the knee, dropping Azriel to the dirt.
“Point,” Gwyn called out. She extended her hand out for him to take. Which he did, a flash of eagerness crossed his face as he stood.
“Now…for your first question…” Gwyn started. “What was one good thing that happened on your mission?”
Azriel stared after her, then answered, “Nesta felled a Middengard Wyrm.”
The corners of Gwyn's mouth dipped down, “Impressive.”
“You know of them?”
They had dropped back into their sparring positions, circling a few times as they conversed. “I’ve read a few passages on them. I know they're not easy to kill.” Gwyn jabbed forward, trying to throw Azriel off balance, but he skipped back with ease. She narrowed her eyes at him then, “That was a free question and answer for you. If you want to ask me something, you gotta hit me.” His shadows whipped around him joyously as Azriel smirked at her sass.
A bit of that primal rage fuelled the sheer intensity of his features, as he promptly closed the distance between them. He grabbed her shoulder and threw her back behind him. His landing blow followed, coming down firmly across her shoulder blades. The hit knocked her to the ground. The course earth beneath her dug into her hands and knees as she caught herself.
She twisted to look over her shoulder and found an extended scarred hand and a devilish face peering down at her.
“Point. Have you read anything on interdimensional travel?”
Gwyn took Azriel's outstretched hand and stood. She gawked at him, surprised by his question. “I have actually…why?”
Amusement sparkled in his eye. “A hit for a question, Berdara.”
There he was.
Azriel's shoulders dropped and his stare was slightly less intense. His shadows had all but relaxed and their darkness faded back to normal as if they mirrored some part of Azriel that was coming down from the emotional rollercoaster he was just on. They settled around his wings, content to watch the sparring match between the two.
Just keep chiseling away.
They went on for quite some time; both of them getting enough hits on each other to ask as many questions as their heart’s desired.
“What was another good thing that happened?” Gwyn asked as she won another point.
“I learned what a phone was.”
Gwyn giggled, “A what?”
“A phone.”
Gwyn pressed her lips together. “I didn't quite catch that.”
“A pho-” Azriel snapped his mouth shut, realizing what she was doing. “Very funny.” This time, when he smiled it stayed. “It sounds rather strange to say, but it's an incredible device.” All traces of hardness on his face were gone.
A good knock to the side of Gwyn's knee moments later revealed Azriel's next question. “What do you know about interdimensional travel?”
“Oh, not a whole lot. Merril was researching it and although I was recording and copying some passages for her it was a very intricate and confusing and sometimes boring topic. Though I bet if I took the time to read it and study it I'd figure something out.”
He nodded without a word and they continued.
Gwyn clipped Azriel's shoulder and asked, “What was one thing that didn't go as planned on your mission?”
Azriel was silent through a couple more minutes of sparring before he answered. Gwyn could see his mind working, deciding what he wanted to tell her. “The person we were tracking got away - and we can't just track them again to get them back.” He grunted as Gwyn lunged forward, sending a punch to his gut for another point.
“Why not?” She asked, tilting her head.
Azriel stood up straight, his hand on his stomach, “Because they escaped through a portal to another world.”
Gwyn's mouth dropped open. “So that's why you're asking about interdimensional travel.” Gwyn shot forward, a twirling and graceful display of flying limbs that, unfortunately, did not best the Shadowsinger and he landed another blow to her arm.
“Would you help me research it?”
Gwyn stilled. “Really?”
Azriel's cheeks flushed in the moonlight, “Yes. If you think you can handle teaching me something.”
“Is that a challenge, Shadowsinger?”
“Is that a question, Berdara?”
Gwyn narrowed her eyes and sprung at Azriel, getting not one, but two hits in her surprise attack. “That should cover my challenge question and the next one."
Azriel chuckled, “Yes, it's a challenge. If you're willing to of course. I can't think of anyone else I'd entrust to aid me.” He brushed off some dirt from his pants and looked back up at Gwyn. Her heart all but stopped in her chest.
She smiled. “Challenge accepted.”
“Good.” All traces of that monster were gone now, but a sadness remained. "And your second question?"
"What else didn't go as planned?”
Azriel sighed, “They took a powerful sword…and Truth-Teller before opening the portal and leaving.” His voice broke as he mentioned his favorite dagger. "And let's just say Rhys isn't pleased." Gwyn glanced at his thigh where Truth-Teller was usually sheathed, and noted that it was, in fact, empty. That is when Gwyn realized Azriel wasn't just upset about failing the mission -
He was upset about what he lost on the mission and who he failed.
“Ah…I see.” Gwyn dropped her arms and walked over to where Azriel stood on the outskirts of the ring. “Do you want to talk about it freely, without sparring?”
He shrugged, “It's...nothing, really.”
Gwyn barked out a laugh. Azriel stared back at her, perplexed as his shadows twirled around her ankles.
“Sorry, I don't mean to laugh, but Az, if it was nothing you wouldn't have come in here magic blazing and fists flying.” She crossed her arms and cocked a brow at him as she continued, "You're upset - you feel you failed by not bringing this person back, but also because they took a powerful sword. You feel you failed Rhys -"
"More than Rhys," he interrupted. " I failed Velaris...the people of Prythian -" His eyes widened, his gaze falling to the ground. "Everyone." His face pulled into one of disappointment.
"That's - unrealistic, Az. You can't carry that weight. It's not fair to you."
His eyes snapped up to meet hers. "It's my job -"
"But it's not your only purpose." Gwyn held his gaze as he blinked, startled by her words. "Azriel, you are more than whatever it is you do for Rhys. You are a living being with wants and needs and feelings. You lost something that obviously meant a lot to you and you're not even allowing yourself to feel that loss.”
Her words struck a chord. Azriel's shoulders dropped and his chin dipped down. When he looked back up at her his eyes were rimmed with silver. “My mother had given Truth-Teller to me, when I was employed by Rhys’ father. She said it was passed down from generation to generation and that it would aid me in all my endeavors.”
Azriel had never once spoken of his mother to Gwyn. Hearing him talk about her - Gwyn could feel the absolute love he had for his mother in the way he spoke. She gave him a small smile and relaxed her arms from where they'd been crossed on her chest. “I'm sorry you lost it.”
Gwyn walked over to him. Her chest tightened and that pull, that godsdamned pull…. told her she needed to reach out and touch him, console him. So she did. She took one of his hands in hers. The bumps and divots of his scars were comforting against her calloused hands. The touch pulled at her chest again, the sound like a soothing lullaby. Was he even aware of the pull? Did he even know the music their souls made together? Did he feel…anything?
His shadows wrapped around their joined hands, their touch a soft caress. She swallowed, waiting for him to say something. He looked back at her with glossy eyes, his brows relaxed slowly.
“Thank you, Gwyn,” he said softly, squeezing her hand.
She returned the gesture. “Anytime, Azriel.” She let his hand fall from hers because if she held on any longer, she might not want to let go. This was one of their first intimate touches, something that went beyond dagger handling and training. It was more meaningful and full of sincerity, and she could have sworn his fingers wrapped tightly around hers, holding on just a little bit longer before allowing the release to happen.
Azriel cleared his throat, “Want to know something else that happened on the mission?”
Gwyns eyes lit up, “Absolutely.”
“I got to hear music from their…world.”
Gwyns mouth popped open and a string of questions followed, “What's it like? Is it different from ours? Could you understand the words to the songs? Were there words to the songs or is it all instrumental?” Azriel grinned at her curiosity and excitement.
“There were words. I couldn't understand them, but I didn't need to with some of the music we heard. The emotions combined with the sounds they were able to create with the technology they have was very moving. It’s much more varied than ours.” Gwyn waited for him to continue. She wanted to know everything about what Azriel heard. They'd discussed music a little bit with each other after that night in the training ring on the Winter Solstice, but she still hadn't heard him sing. It was slowly killing her, waiting to hear the Shadowsinger open his mouth and create something magical and beautiful with it.
“Varied how?”
“Well, they do have something similar to ours with an instrumental sound, but they also have music called heavy metal and folk and club music -” he smiled as he mentioned the club music.
“What's club music?” She asked, tilting her head. His shadows oscillated excitedly around him.
Azriel blushed, “That - is actually rather hard to describe.”
Gwyn rolled her eyes and gave him a playful shove on the shoulders, “Oh come now,” she started. “Perhaps you can sing it? Or mimic it in some way?” She tried giving him pleading, puppy dog eyes, hoping her sly attempt at finally getting to hear him create music would work.
Azriel pressed his lips together. How difficult could it possibly be to mimic music?
“Describing club music truly is an obstacle. It's drums and string instruments, but amplified…loud as if there are hundreds of them playing at an extremely fast pace. To replicate it would be near impossible, if not slightly embarrassing.” Gwyn laughed, making a mental note to make that her next challenge - getting Azriel to replicate club music.
“Their folk music on the other hand…” His voice wavered and he shifted his weight from foot to foot. A rare showing of nerves from the stony Shadowsinger. “...I could replicate for you, if -” Gwyn gasped.
She could do nothing to stop the little happy dance her feet did. “Yes!” She exclaimed, interrupting him. “Please do, gods I've been dying for this moment.” Gwyn clasped her hands together in front of her and beamed up at Azriel.
He gave a deep, nervous laugh, “Well then, I hope I won't disappoint.”
“You have yet to do so in my eyes, Shadowsinger,” she replied as she reached out, her hands gently grasping his upper arms, giving him a reassuring squeeze. Feeling his muscles under her fingers made her tremble. Gods he was beautiful. Slightly embarrassed by all the touching, she pulled her arms away and tucked them behind her back. She took a step back, “What will you be singing for me on this gorgeous evening, Az.”
Azriel blinked. “A folk song called Stone Mother,” he started. “Now, I don't know the words, they were obviously in a different language, but…”
“Gods Shadowsinger, you're killing me!”
Azriel bit back a smile, “You look as if you're about to implode, priestess. Are you that excited to hear me sing?”
Gwyn's heart leapt at the use of her nickname. “Obviously! Now come, just hum it or do ‘ohs’ and ‘ahs’ - as you said, it wasn't necessary to understand the words.”
Azriel smiled at her impatience and enthusiasm. “As you wish.” He took a few deep breaths then moments later Azriel opened his mouth and sang the folk song for her, taking her advice and using simple syllable sounds to recreate the song. The soothing, low tenor of his voice carried around the training ring.
Gwyn watched with admiration. He had started out a little shaky, but once he got into a rhythm the notes came out in beautiful crescendos and diminuendos. The variation was such a stark contrast to his speaking voice which was usually so low, even flat. His shadows danced with the rhythm, waving and undulating around him, growing bigger the longer he sang - the more confident he became.
It made Gwyn's heart sing, and she yearned to join him. She wanted to create that delicate balance of sound and rhythm, to let her voice carry over and under his. She wanted to dance with his shadows as they swirled and twirled around them.
She also just wanted to watch and listen, to let him bask in this limelight. Azriel looked so happy singing. His hazel eyes were lit with joy and his face formed emotion-filled expressions - and that voice. It vibrated throughout Gwyn, making her hum with emotion - his emotions, she realized, as she felt them first in her chest, glowing and thrumming through the bond she knew they shared.
Gwyn let her thoughts carry her to that little kernel of knowledge she had - that she and Azriel were mates. Gwyn recalled the moment she had felt it. She had been unable to move from where she was curled up on the kitchen floor in the temple, tears streaming down her face, covered in blood - hers and possibly others.
Bodies laid unmoving all around the room, her sister was only a few feet from her, but she couldn't look - couldn't bring herself to lift her gaze from the floor.
She had been vaguely aware of what had happened. One moment a Hybern soldier had his hands on her, the sound of his belt buckle falling open - it ended up being the last sound he made before his presence behind her disappeared. Their laughter stopped, their disgusting remarks ceased.
Silence followed.
Time seemed to slow, Gwyn's body wracked with sobs.
And then it happened.
The comforting weight of a cloak draped around her as she finally picked her head up, her teary-eyed teal eyes met fury-fuelled hazel ones. Gwyn thought she was going mad because the next moment tendrils of golden light unraveled from her chest, reaching towards the black clad newcomer in front of her.
Snap.
The wind was knocked out of her as the tendrils pulled taut, tethering her to the male crouching before her. Without hesitation she took his outstretched hands and let him help her to stand. If he had felt it, had experienced the same thing, he didn't show it.
Now, here she was, watching with admiration as Azriel stood before her, baring the most he's ever let anyone see. Did he know he was baring his soul to his mate? Telling her all the things that made his heart ache, gave him nightmares at night?
Did he know they were mates?
Gwyn wanted to shout it from the rooftops, because this kind, compassionate, talented male in front of her was hers. Some day she would. Someday she would tell anyone who would listen, but for now, Gwyn was going to enjoy the song of the Shadowsinger and cherish the smile it brought to his lips.
End notes: I really loved writing this and I'm so glad I got to participate in #GwynrielWeeks2024! I wanted to add that I totally believe that Gwyn will crack jokes to him about losing TT, eventually...but I also think Az needs someone to console him first too. That's a big loss for him and just how he was described as pleading for Bryce to hand it back tells me he is not okay lol
Where did TT come from? idk the thought that his mother gave it to him could also explain his sadness over losing it, but I also saw a theory (I don't remember who said it or where I saw it) that Mor had given it to him, that it was one of many daggers she's given, but Mor didn't confirm that, Feyre only thought it so idk about that...but of course it's possible! He could've also just come across it somewhere randomly like Ruhn did with the sword so who knows!
I also think it's possible that Az and Gwyn have been gifted these 'singer' abilities. I didn't really touch on it with Gwyn's powers in this fic, but I think about magical powers in terms of where they originate from. If Gwyn does have lightsinger abilities, then there is a beastial side to it, but then the same goes for Az. I don't believe Az and Gwyn are evil, rather just gifted the abilities and those abilities happen to have features that come out as they're used. I bet if/when Gwyn taps into the depths of her true powers she's going to have this ethereal terrifying beauty about her (think of Galadriel in LoTR when she's yells at Frodo and she's scary looking) but again NOT EVIL.
Also random and again I don't really touch on it here, but I think Az was born with his shadows I KNOW Rhys says "In the centuries I’d known him, he’d said little about his life, those years in his father’s keep, locked in darkness. Perhaps the shadowsinger gift had come to him then, perhaps he’d taught himself the language of shadow and wind and stone." But he's saying perhaps, he's speculating because even he doesn't know. It would also explain why his father would keep him rather than get rid of him or end his life because he could probably bargain with the high lord of the night court at the time for a selfish thing in return....but that's my opinion! lol
Anyway, hope you enjoyed! Happy Gwynriel Weeks!
@gwynrielweeksofficial
Gwynriel Weeks 2024 - Day 11 | Alternate Universe: Modern Spy AU
Azriel and Gwyn make a fast getaway after completing a mission at the Autumn Court archives. Hold up at one of Azriel's safe houses, the pair spend the evening like any professional pair should - listening to classic crooner songs, playing two-person party games, and pining, lots and lots of pining.
Modern Spy AU with smut. Mentions of past trauma.
Author's Note: I got into the ACOTAR fandom a bit later, having read the ACOTAR and CC series within the last five months and am making my way through ToG and let me tell you when I say this series sparked my need to write fanfic - it sparked it, like an image glowing quietly in my chest (tehe). This is the first fanfic I've written in like ten years and my first Gwynriel fic!
Also, because I've been away from Tumblr, my profile appearance doesn't seem to want to update so I can't change my picture and I would've totally linked this fic to my AO3 but I also don't remember the login for it so I had to send an invite to join anew - so it's been a journey to get this posted LOL
Getaway Car
The street lights blinked on outside the archives building of the Autumn Court, the dusk sky a fading muddle of deep blues and brilliant oranges.
Azriel sat in the driver's seat of his dark, curvy sports car. He had pulled up maybe an hour ago, knowing his partner would be out within the next half hour. Was he being paranoid about arriving so early? Maybe. But he didn't want to keep her waiting.
No one kept Gwyneth Berdara waiting.
The street lights blinked on outside the archives building of the Autumn Court, the dusk sky a fading muddle of deep blues and brilliant oranges.
Azriel sat in the driver's seat of his dark, curvy sports car. He had pulled up maybe an hour ago, knowing his partner would be out within the next half hour. Was he being paranoid about arriving so early? Maybe. But he didn't want to keep her waiting.
No one kept Gwyneth Berdara waiting.
That's something he learned these last few years working with her. She was smart, witty, and a firecracker and when there was something she wanted, she took it…and she didn't back down. If you kept her waiting, she'd crack you like a code and leave your secrets out for everyone to see. Azriel made sure to remember that.
There were a few secrets he wasn't ready to share. He always gave her just enough and then deflected. Azriel had a feeling Gwyn knew what he was doing, she always knew, he also wasn't a target nor did he carry intelligence for a job….that's where she drew the line. Her personal relationships were sacred to her. But that didn't stop Azriel from guarding his code. He didn't want to even fathom what his partner would think about him if she knew what lay beneath his composed exterior.
Azriel ran his gloved fingers over the leather of his steering wheel as he scanned the area.
All clear.
Gwyneth should be out soon.
He trusted her, more than anybody. Some days he felt he trusted her more than he did himself. Gwyneth completed her jobs with strict and unyielding professionalism. But that fear…that gods damned fear that would spark somewhere deep in his belly. What if….
What if they missed something?
What if they didn't come out?
What if they faltered?
What if their pasts came back to haunt them at the worst possible moment?
Sometimes he felt it wasn't fair. He knew one of her darkest memories. The thing that kept her up at night, but she didn't know his…
And he only knew it because he was the one to find her.
Sometimes it would take a strong drink to erase the images of her, beaten and tortured, because of a mission he failed to time right. Gwyn had been fresh and new to this life they led, only about a year into the work. She wasn't overly optimistic or cocky. She followed orders and carried out tasks with masterful elegance.
She had done everything right.
Despite it all, she was back a year later, demanding to be his partner again. Totally disregarding his request to have her reassigned to someone else.
What Gwyneth Berdara wants, Gwyneth Berdara gets.
Azriel still couldn't figure out why. After four years. Why did she want to be his partner when he had failed? Why did she trust him? How could she trust him?
Five more minutes.
He turned on the engine. Keeping the lights off until she was in the car.
The strange shadows he was blessed with rose steadily, patiently awaiting the arrival of their favorite being. They knew too, what she meant to him…
They interacted with her like he had never seen them do with anybody. They often sided with her in arguments, always said hello to her - sometimes in the most embarrassing ways - and call him crazy, but he thought they comforted her too.
One shadow floated near the clock, as if checking the time. Any minute now, our spymistress will be here.
I told you to stop calling her a spymistress. It's spymaster…she has mastered the art of spying, hence spy-master.
Fine. Our Gwynnie.
No.
Our hacker?
No, can you guys just stop and -
Our Analyst!
Cauldron boil me…focus please.
His shadows seemed to snicker at his annoyance. All is clear. Our master of spies is on her way…she looks very confident in her stride.
Azriel turned in his seat to watch the heavy glass doors. Sure enough just a minute later, and right on time, was Gwyneth.
Her copper hair bounced around her shoulders as she casually strolled out of the archives, a smug look of satisfaction playing on her lips.
She glanced around before opening the car door and ducking in. Her black heels and nude-colored tights entered first. Then the tightest black skirt, hugging her hips and thighs, the bottom hem sitting just above her knees. Her pressed white button down fit her like a glove. Azriel tried not to stare too hard at the undone buttons, the fabric open to reveal a freckled chest.
Her smile was bright and her teal eyes sparkled behind dark-rimmed glasses he’d never seen before. “Got it!” She exclaimed, breathlessly as she settled into the passenger seat.
“Good girl,” Azriel purred, tapping his knuckles on her knee. He took in this bookish look Gwyn wore. “I didn't know you wore glasses?”
She shrugged, “I don't, they were for show. Do you like them?” She held the frame between two fingers, wiggling them on her face at him.
Go.
His shadows cut off the flirty retort he had on the tip of his tongue. Azriel scanned the street ahead of him as movement caught his eye. Someone was walking towards their car.
Then headlights flashed on behind them.
“Shit. Buckle up.” The headlights flashed on as Azriel revved the engine and put the car into gear.
Gwyneth followed his command immediately, snapping her seat belt into place. She twisted in her seat looking back at the vehicle that blocked their rear exit. “Fuck, they've got a nice car…fast too…you better - ah!” She was cut off as Azriel slammed on the gas, their tires spinning out before shooting them down the road. “Gods dammit Az - A little warning next time!”
Azriel smirked. He liked when she called him ‘Az’, he also liked when she was flustered. “Sorry, Gwyneth…if you would please, hold on.” He turned suddenly down a street to the left, both of them swaying dramatically with the car. He noticed Gwyn clutching the handles, but her face was calm. This wasn't the first time they'd been in a high-speed chase together. Azriel loved the thrill of it, he wondered if she felt the same…
Focus, they're gaining.
Sure enough, glancing in the rear view mirror, Az saw the lights catching up to them, but there was another problem...
“AZ!”
Az turned to see another car coming at them from the right. He swerved, but the car clipped their rear, sending them spinning.
Az put his arm out instinctually, holding Gwyn back. He felt a shooting pain in his temple as his head hit the side window at some point in the nauseous spin out. He spun the wheel to straighten them out and continue their getaway. He grabbed his head, hissing; and when he pulled his hand away there was blood. Not a lot. He's been worse. Right now, he was focused and determined to get them to safety.
All clear up ahead, make a right.
And Az did, just as the sound of gunshots rang out. “Fuck!” He pressed harder on the gas pedal, propelling them forward.
His heart was pounding and his hands started to sweat. Guns were never a good thing in a car chase.
Just as he thought it, a bullet shattered the back window, wind blowing into the car. Gwyn's hair whipped around her. “I've got your six. Focus on the road,” she commanded. He glanced over to see her pull a gun from gods know where and spin on her seat to aim out the now shattered back windshield.
As commanded, Azriel focused ahead of him. He was able to keep their chasers far enough behind, avoiding the potential for a shot on target, but they were close, tracking Azriel and Gwyn with precision.
They zigzagged through the city, Azriel navigating like he built the roads himself, knowing every turn, every bump, every detail…
…except for the stuck semi truck trying to turn in a too-tight street.
His blood turned icy cold. He reached out and held down the button next to his steerwheel on the dashboard. The chase behind them didn't relent.
“Gwyn! Sit down!” Gwyn whipped back into her seat.
“Oh, shit -” she muttered, finding her hand-holds again. “Az…”
He waited. Fifty feet…Twenty…
“Az?!”
Azriel let the pressure off the button inches from the truck.
And suddenly they were driving away on the other side. The sounds of screeching tires and a crash echoed behind them.
Gwyn turned to him, surprise and shock on her face, “What the -”
Az smiled playfully, “New Winnowing system. Just got it installed last week. Lucky really, a spot had opened up.”
“Why is that lucky?”
“Otherwise the appointment was to get it done next week.” And they'd be trapped…or dead.
“Ah…” was all Gwyn said, understanding what he was getting at.
That's when Az noted her hand, gripping his thigh. Gwyn noticed at the same time and quickly removed it. Az didn't dare take his eyes off the road to look over at her, but if he did, he bet he'd see the deepest blush on her face.
They drove to one of many hideouts they had scattered throughout the Court. This one was located on the outskirts of town, a shipping office next to the port. The office wasn't actually in any official use, it was built specifically for Azriel and his missions. But to anyone else, it appeared unimportant.
He pulled into the garage, waiting for the door to close behind them before getting out of the car and coming around the front to see each other face to face. A couple of his shadows darted out, swarming around her.
Gwyn gasped, “You hit your head. We should check for a concussion.” She reached up, pushing his hair back to get a better view.
Az pulled back at first, but let Gwyn fret over him, “I'm fine, Gwyn really - ” he stopped and gaped.
“Wha -” he reached out, grabbing her upper arm gently. She hissed, flinching back at his touch. Her shirt was sliced open, a deep gash oozing blood underneath.
She'd been grazed by a bullet.
She hissed, “Fuck, I didn't even notice.”
Az wrapped an arm around her shoulder, “Adrenaline will do that to you - come on let's get that gruesome bullet wound seen to.” He was making a joke of the situation, but only a few inches to the right and…he shook the thoughts from his mind.
She was alive.
She was safe.
They climbed up a set of steps to the office and apartment above the garage. Flicking the lights on, they were greeted by a warm, cozy office with a large desk and plushy chairs. And through the seemingly ordinary supply closet was a small apartment.
A single bed, a small sitting table and kitchen adorned the room. Through a door to the right was a bathroom. It was a bit cramped, but little aspects about the two rooms made it feel homey. In the office there was a bookshelf packed with various types of material to read, something that Azriel was grateful for. It saved him from many hours of boredom. He was also thankful for the bar Rhys had finally allowed him to put it. He had a strict no alcohol on missions rule, but he trusted Azriel to know when it was acceptable to imbibe.
The small apartment was where most of the snippets from home could be found. Big, soft pillows, fluffy blankets, and a fireplace. Azriel realized then that this was the first time Gwyn had been in this hideout. The environment of the office suited her current look. Like she was a spy out of a movie.
Focus, your Valkyrie is bleeding…you can gaze upon her beauty later!
Normally he'd make some snide remark towards his shadows, but right now, they were absolutely right.
He led Gwyn to sit in one of the red plush chairs in front of the desk and began looking for the first aid kit.
Gwyn looked at her sleeve in disappointment, frowning at the tear and blood stain. “I just bought this shirt.”
Azriel laughed, “If that's what you're worried about, I'll buy you a new one.” He pulled up the other red chair, positioning it next to Gwyn's to get a good angle on her arm.
He peered into the torn, bloodied fabric, “You’ll need to take your arm out, or we can cut the sleeve off.” Gwyn surveyed the damage and began unbuttoning the shirt.
Her left arm now out of the sleeve, Azriel took it, carefully angling it, “Hold it there.” He pulled off his black driving gloves, revealing his mottled and scarred hands, and replaced them with medical gloves. “It's a deep wound, we'll be able to get you proper care tomorrow, but for tonight -” He paused, seeing Gwyn's face pale at seeing the needle he'd just picked up. “You alright?”
“Yeah just -” She swallowed and closed her eyes, only opening them after taking a deep breath, “- Do it.”
“You're sure Berdara?”
“Yes. Wait, actually, pour me a drink first.”
Azriel poured her two fingers of whiskey, which she downed quickly. “One more,” she gritted out. With her second drink in hand she nodded, “Okay ready.”
He chuckled and shook his head, “You never cease to amaze me.” He noticed Gwyn's eyes kept flickering to the needle, “Did everything go to plan at the archives?” He asked, distracting her from the amateur suturing that was about to happen on her arm.
Gwyn nodded, some of her auburn hair falling forward over her shoulders. “Found the document, copied the information, and tucked it safely away.” A look of satisfaction arose on her face.
He pinched her skin on either side of the wound, pushing it together. “Good girl.” He gave her praise for the mission, and encouragement to stay calm while he threaded a needle through her skin.
She hissed in, “Thanks.” Her teal eyes squeezed shut, one popping open in curiosity. “That Winnowing technology was a literal lifesaver…one of Amren's ideas?”
Azriel nodded, “That was the first time I used it…in the field that is.” He tried to make quick work of the suturing, keeping Gwyn occupied with small talk. “So what is your post-mission ritual like?”
Gwyn scoffed, “Post-mission ritual?”
“Yeah, how do you like to unwind after a mission?”
“How do you like to unwind after a mission, Shadowsinger?” His shadows danced around him.
Hmm, Az loved when she addressed him like that. The way she said it was like a prayer on her lips. How could he refuse her an answer - even though he absolutely asked her first, but saying that to her would sidetrack them into the usual witty banter.
The corner of his mouth twitched, “With a long hot bath, or shower, comfortable loungewear, a good book, maybe a glass of wine or whiskey, and an album of classic crooner songs.”
Gwyn's twinkling laugh filled the room, “Classic crooner songs? That's so cliché.” She winced a bit as the needle made another loop through her freckled skin. “I have to say, much of my wind down is the same, just add in some yoga and replace classic crooner songs with feminine anthems….oh and a very large take out order.” One of his shadows rested on her shoulder, watching Azriel push and pull the needle through her skin.
Azriel's stomach growled as she mentioned food, “You know, food sounds like an excellent idea. We can't order out, but I could whip something up for us…what are you craving?”
She hummed in thought, the sound sending vibrations straight through him. Now that he was almost done suturing her wound, he let his eyes wander just a bit. He noted the pink lacy bra she wore. She wasn't even trying to cover it up, the opening of her blouse hung wide open on her shoulders, the tips of her hair curling over the mounds of breasts that peeked over top the cups of her bra. He wondered if that’s where the documents were hidden.
That's exactly where the documents are hidden. His shadows whispered to him.
“Some Velaris noodles would hit the spot. Do you have the ingredients for that?” She tilted her head, more tendrils of hair falling forward.
Shit…did he?
We do have the proper ingredients for a simple dish.
Thanks.
Azriel cleared his mind again, “Uh, yeah, for a simple version.” He tied off the suture, clipping it with scissors. “There. How do you feel?”
Gwyn lifted her arm, inspecting the wound and suture work. “That's going to leave a badass scar, isn't it?”
He laughed, “Probably.”
Gwyn glanced up at him, her eyes flicking to his head injury. She slipped her arm back into her blouse, but left it unbuttoned as she slid to the edge of the chair, turning to face Azriel.
“Okay, my turn to play nurse.” She reached over him, her breasts just brushing his arm and grabbed the first aid kit. His head whirled at the contact, her scent of wild water lilies and moonlit moss enveloped him.
Her scent is extremely intoxicating.
I've noticed, thank you.
She pulled out gauze and medical tape and stood, turning Azriel's head to get a better look. He sucked in a breath, realizing his face was only inches from her tits.
Well now he was just being tested. His shadows snickered.
He tried looking anywhere but forward as she dressed his wound.
“Do you feel dizzy, lightheaded, or drowsy?”
“Nope.”
“Headache?”
“No.”
Her fingers poked along his neck. “Neck pain?”
He shivered slightly at her touch, but no pain. “Feels normal.”
She sat down seeming satisfied, “I'm only a little over a year into my basic medical training, but I think you're okay.” A flash of worry crossed her face, “I wouldn't mind staying up with you all night though, in case you do have a concussion.”
“Thank you, nurse Gwyneth, the company will be appreciated.”
Azriel cleaned up the medical kit, double checked Gwyn's suture, and got in the shower.
-----------------------------------------
Gwyn sighed as she looked around the office and apartment. She hadn't been to this safe house before. It was smaller than the others and only had one bed that she could see. She figured Az would take the floor or maybe there was a cot somewhere, either way, he'd never let her have anything less than the comfort of a good mattress and soft blankets.
A part of her wished he'd throw caution to the wind later and join her….she would not be disappointed if he did. The thought of him curled up behind her, his arm draped around her, his breath on her neck…
Gwyn shook the thoughts from her mind. They were professional partners, nothing more.
But she desperately wanted to be more.
Ever since she came back from leave, he'd been attentive and kind and helped train her whenever she asked. Despite the fact that it took three requests and her storming into his office to finally be assigned his partner. She didn’t know how to feel about that. Did he not trust her after what happened? Surely that couldn't be it, he never once blamed her for the mission that put her on leave.
But he did blame himself.
He’d never admit it, but Gwyn knew, she could read him better than he knew.
Gwyn knew he blamed himself, and she wished he didn't. The Hybern soldiers had duped them, giving them the wrong location, all the while they had Gwyn, chained up and…
Stop. She told herself.
Never again.
She was safe….especially here with Azriel.
Their closeness in training resulted in a friendship and partnership to rival the best. They were top partners and trusted by their court to do the job and do it well.
Their closeness also meant they got to really know each other. Understand how the other ticked, what made them, them.
Gwyn told herself she wouldn't do it, but the heart wants what the heart wants and it turns out it wants Azriel…bad.
She fell in love with the Shadowsinger.
She could never admit it though. What would the Inner Circle think?
She doubted he even thought about her in that way.
How could he when he blamed himself for what happened?
He probably only saw the crying, fragile woman on the floor, bruised and bloodied.
The bathroom door swung open, a mix of steam and shadows billowing out followed by - oh my gods…
Gwyn thought Azriel was stunning in a black suit or his training gear, but cloaked in nothing but a fluffy white towel…he was a god. Gwyn swallowed hard, watching beads of water running in rivulets down his chest and chiseled abs. Her eyes roamed the statuesque god in front of her. Thank the Cauldron he was toweling his hair off. She couldn’t imagine the sly smirk that would play on his lips if he caught her, jaw dropped, ogling him.
Azriel looked up then and she pulled her gaze away, quickly grabbing a book off the desk, making herself appear busy with something other than devouring him with her eyes. Gwyn perched on the edge of the desk, her legs crossed in front of her. She could now feel his eyes on her, no doubt noting how her white blouse hung unbuttoned and opened. How she’d removed her heels, making her business aesthetic much more casual.
Gwyn realized she was subconsciously trying to seduce Azriel and that thought warmed something in her. If he wanted to, she'd let him ravish her right here on the desk. Let his hands roam beneath her skirt, let his mouth explore every inch of her exposed skin. She squeezed her thighs together and bit her bottom lip as her thoughts wandered.
When she looked up again, Azriel was watching her, intently, his shadows peering over his shoulder at her. He smirked as their eyes met.
“Showers all yours, Berdara.”
He walked past her and gods did he smell divine, like mist-chilled cedar. She did all she could to not shudder at the thought of that scent enveloping her.
Gwyn took her shower, keeping her gunshot wound out of the stream of water.
Gunshot wound.
She came so close to being fatally wounded. She closed her eyes, trying not to think about it. Telling herself she was okay. She was alive. The hot water and steam from the shower cleansed her soul as she breathed in.
I'm okay.
And out.
I'm alive.
In.
I'm safe.
And out.
She opened her eyes and finished washing. Her stomach rumbling her out of her mind-stilling. She hoped Azriel was true to his word and was making the noodles.
Sure enough when she stepped out of the shower, she could hear the sizzle of the frying pan and the smell of the savory sauce.
In nothing but a towel, Gwyn searched the room for something to wear. She found a silky, black robe that looked extremely comfortable and was the softest silky material she had ever felt.
This will do just fine. She thought to herself.
Donning the robe, she toweled off her hair as she walked into the kitchen. Azriel stilled as she entered.
“Taking it upon yourself to wear my finest robe, huh?” She didn't miss the trail of his eyes, how they started at her feet and wound their way up her body and ended on her clavicle before darting up to her eyes. One of his shadows darted out around her feet before joining him back by the stove, floating around his ear as if they were telling him a secret. He blushed.
Celebrating the small victory of getting Azriel to break his icy exterior, she plopped down on the bed. Gwyn now had a challenge for the evening.
How many times could she get him to blush?
She raised a brow at him, “You keep your finest robe here in this unmarked outpost?”
“Okay, fine. One of my finest robes.”
Gwyn leaned forward, enjoying this juicy bit of information she was getting out of the Shadowsinger.
“Let me guess, you bought multiple of the same robe to keep at each of your outposts so you'd always have a fine robe on hand.”
“Something like that.” He turned back to the noodles, but not before Gwyn noticed the corner of his mouth kick up.
She glanced around the room, “So how do you listen to your classic crooner songs? Phone? CDs? Ah - no way!” Gwyn clambered off the bed when she spotted the record player sitting on a table near the kitchenette.
“Does this work?”
“It should.”
Gwyn set up the player and found the records stored in a drawer in the table. Her fingers trembled with excitement. It had been years, probably since she lived with her grandmother, that she heard the perfect sound of a record player. She set the needle down on the vinyl and waited to hear the first notes.
When the notes started playing she found herself swaying gently to the rhythm of instruments and lyrics that churned out. Azriel’s shadows joined her, twirling with her around the room. She may have picked on Azriel's choice of music, but she had to give it to him, it was pretty relaxing and enjoyable to dance to.
They enjoyed dinner and conversation together, a slow, crooner song playing in the background. Talking to Azriel had always come so easy to her. She never felt like she needed to change who she was with him, and he reciprocated the feeling, telling her everything and anything she wanted to know about him. It had always been like this between them, this easy conversation, but tonight….tonight felt different.
Perhaps it was the casualness of how they sat on the bed, Gwyn sitting up cross legged, Azriel propping his head up as he lounged on his side, their stomachs now full of savory noodles. Maybe it was the way Azriel kept stealing bashful glances her way whenever he could. She'd so far made him blush three times.
“Okay, my turn,” Gwyn took a sip of her lime seltzer water. They had decided to spend their evening playing games. Azriel suggested a game of twenty questions. He went first choosing a place that Gwyn had to guess. It only took her eight questions to figure out he was thinking of the Winter Court. “Got it - fire away Shadowsinger.”
“Is it a place?”
“No.”
“A person?”
“Yes!” Gwyn leaned forward, curious to see how long it would take him to guess.
“Are they male?”
“Yes.”
Azriel tilted his head then, considering what question to ask next, “Are they famous?”
“No,” Gwyn popped a nut from a sealed jar they had found in the cupboards.
“Hmm, do I know them?”
“Yes.”
“Is it Cassian?”
Gwyn laughed, “Nope.”
“Damn. Are they higher rank than us?”
“No.”
“Balthazar?” He asked, almost tentatively.
Gwyn grinned, “Not even close.”
Azriel's face crumpled in concentration. He didn't beat Gwyn's eight questions, and she could tell that frustrated him. His competitive nature was a joy to experience. Whether it was this twenty questions game or darts when they're at the office or during their office-wide team building sports tournaments - Azriel and Gwyn were the most competitive people around. Together? They were a formidable pair.
Azriel narrowed his eyes, “Do they wield magic?”
“Yes.”
“Nyx?”
Gwyn pressed her lips together and shook her head. “No.”
Azriel flopped back onto his pillow with his hands resting on his chest, and stared up at the ceiling, his eyes squinting and darting around like he was working through all the knowledge he had about this person.
Gwyn leaned back on her hands and took her bottom lip between her teeth as she waited for his next question.
“Are they from the Night Court?” He asked, slowly.
“Yes.” Gwyn's mouth curled into a smile.
Azriel took note of her sly smile and squinted at her. He sat up then, his eyes flicking between hers. “Is it…me?”
She nodded, and he blushed.
Blush number four.
“Well, Shadowsinger, what game shall we play next?” She asked.
His eyes sparkled. “Never Have I Ever?”
Gwyn laughed, “What are we teenagers?”
“Do you have a better game in mind?”
Gwyn tapped her chin, but eventually shook her head, “Not off the top of my head, no.”
Azriel sat facing her, holding his scarred hands up, palms out. “Alright Berdara, put ‘em up.”
Gwyn rolled her eyes, but grinned and mimicked him. “Me first.”
“What? No, I thought of the game, I will go first.”
“You went first for 20 questions, Az, I'm first,” she said with finality before beginning the first statement before he could open his mouth and protest. “- Never have I ever…gotten black out drunk.”
Azriel put a finger down, “Really? Never?”
“Nope!” She replied proudly.
“Congrats on having more self control than me,” he chuckled. He tilted his head in thought. “Never have I ever worn fake glasses for a job.”
Gwyn narrowed her eyes at him and put a finger down. “Never have I ever used a Winnowing system in a car.” Azriel put his finger down, both of them now in complete understanding of how savage this game was going to get.
“Never have I ever read a smutty novel.”
Gwyn's mouth popped open as she put a finger down, “Never? Not one? We need to change that.” She stretched her legs out, her barely covered thigh brushing against him. “Never have I ever….been gifted with shadows.”
“That's not a fair statement!”
“There are no rules against it.”
He put his finger down and huffed, “Fine, never have I ever had coppery brown hair.”
Gwyn smirked, putting her finger down, “I think you'd look handsome with coppery-brown hair.” Az blushed, making her count five Azriel blushes. “Never have I ever walked in on someone having sex.”
Azriel scrunched his face as if recalling a very specific moment, and put his finger down. “Never have I ever -”
“Wait,” Gwyn interrupted. “You're not going to elaborate?!”
“Would you like me to?” He cocked his head, “Is that a kink of yours, Gwyn? Hearing about other people's naughty ventures?” The smile he gave her was devilish and so fucking handsome.
Gwyn swallowed, “No… I'm just - curious,” she said with a shrug.
His eyes roved over her and she flushed with heat as his gaze dipped below her collarbone. She became very aware of how short the black, silk robe was and how much of her legs were on display.
She thrived under his stare. She wanted him to see all of her.
“If you must know it was Cassian and Nesta at the dining room table as I joined them for a meal. It's something I try not to think about,” he said with a grimace. “They ruined my appetite - it's not funny, Gwyn….Gwyneth!” Gwyn had fallen into a fit of giggles imagining the big, bad Shadowsinger losing his appetite because two people were having sex next to his lunch.
It took Gwyn a couple of minutes to compose herself, wiping away the tears that had formed.
Azriel waited patiently and when she had calmed he asked with an amused smile, “Are you done? Because I'd very much like to beat you at this game.”
She nodded, “Continue - but you're not beating me at this game.”
His smile made Gwyn melt, “Never have I ever been asked out on a date.”
Gwyn blinked, not sure if she heard him correctly. “You - no one has ever asked you on a date?”
“Not a proper one, no.” He glanced at her fingers, “Well?”
It was her turn to blush. She had truly never been asked on a date, just a few one night stands that meant nothing, had no prelude or follow up, but the Shadowsinger obviously thought she had, or else he would not have asked the question. She kept her fingers up.
Azriel gawked at her. “You're lying.”
“I'm not,” she responded firmly.
Azriel cleared his throat, “Your turn then.”
“Never have I ever been in love.”
The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them and she only thought of them because of the male in front of her.
Azriel's hazel eyes gleamed in the light, his shadows pulsing around him as he stared at her. He didn't move a finger.
The air between them was thick, filled with palpable emotions. Gwyn thought she would burst right there and then if she didn't touch him, didn't let him touch her. They devoured the sight of each other, both their eyes dark with want and need. Azriel didn't move though as he asked his next question.
“Never have I ever wanted to kiss you more than I do now.”
Gwyn's heart stopped beating entirely. She didn't move a finger, because instead of answering his curiosity, she took control and showed him. Gwyn all but threw herself at Azriel, her arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders, melting into his rock, hard body. Her lips crashed into his, her body humming with him.
Azriel stiffened at first, but then relaxed into the feel of her against him. His hands came up to caress her sides, holding her hips in his wide palms. She moaned at the touch, at the feel of his lips on hers. His lips were surprisingly soft as they enveloped hers and he was tentative, searching, like he was learning every move her mouth made.
She swiped a tongue against his mouth, causing his to fall open in answer. His kiss deepened as her tongue explored his - as he bit her bottom lip, the whimper that escaped her lips was needy. Gwyn was begging him for more.
Gwyn pulled back, gasping for air as she peered down at Azriel whose lap she was now perched in. Their kissing some how leading to this intimate position. His lips were wet with her spit, his cheeks flushed.
Six.
She smiled and leaned down to whisper in his ear, “Never have I ever wanted to make love to someone before.”
Azriel turned his head to look at her, his eyes darted around her face, reading her expression. He shook his head, “Neither have I.” His hands slid up and down her back. She shivered, pushing closer to him needing every inch of her to be touching him. “Do you? Want to make love?”
Gwyn nodded and then Azriel smirked, a slow sly curve of his lips. “How do you make love when you've never been in love before?”
Every instinct told her to yell at the top of her lungs that ‘I lied - I am I love - with you!” but all she could do was grasp the front of his soft, shirt and meet his gaze. “I had never been in love with anyone,” she whispered, her brain trying to keep up with the brash decision her heart was making to bare everything to him. “Before you.”
Azriel's finger pressed into her skin, his breath coming in short and quick. “You…love me?” He asked, unconvinced that someone would ever think to utter the words to him.
Gwyn nodded. “I know - it's absurd and crazy for me to say those words, to you, my partner, but -” Azriel brought his hands to cup Gwyn's face, his thumb brushing over her lips, quieting her. Gwyn stammered over her last words as Azriel interrupted her.
“I love you too, Gwyn.”
Gwyn almost fell off his lap. Her head spun, was this really happening right now? When she woke up this morning this was definitely not how she imagined her day going…
Gwyn took Azriel's face in her hands too, her thumbs brushing his cheeks, while his hands had slid back into her haor, pulling her towards him by the nape of her neck. “Azriel…” She breathed, her forehead resting on his. “...I need you.”
“Gods Gwyn, I need you too.” His lips crashed into hers with need and desire and a heat so intense Gwyn thought she might faint. They were sweaty hands pawing at each other, teeth and tongue clashing.
Gwyn whined when he pulled away, only to moan moments later when he moved to trail kisses down her neck. His hands pushed the hem of the robe up her thighs, the scars were a titillating texture against her skin, sending shivers across her body. She threaded her fingers through his raven-black hair, urging him to continue his ravishing.
This is what she'd been waiting for, wanting - and it was everything and more. They hadn't even removed an item of clothing or gone past kissing and pawing, but Gwyn was in absolute, all-consuming bliss.
Azriel kissed her shoulder then bit and sucked the skin, licking the bruise left behind. Gwyn whimpered, pulling at his hair. Azriel hummed in approval, “You're sounds Gwyn, I could listen to them all day.” He nipped at her skin again, drawing a gasp from her. He was going to tease her relentlessly and she knew it and gods if that wasn't what she wanted…
“Az….please…”
Azriel gave her a sly smile, “Please what, Berdara?”
Gwyn melted at his words as the heat pooled low in her stomach, her sex throbbed at the sound of his low voice saying her name. “More…I need more, Azriel.” She rolled her hips, her core rubbing against his hardness beneath the grey sweats he wore.
Azriel growled and gripped her hips, pushing her back onto the bed. She let her legs fall open, letting him settle above her. She hadn't put any underwear on after the shower - something Azriel noticed right away, his gaze snapped to hers.
“You're a naughty little nymph, aren't you? No underwear while wearing my robe. Getting your scent all over my things.” His knees and thighs pushed against her legs, prying her legs open even more. “I wonder -” he started, leaning down to press soft kisses to her breasts which were now almost completely exposed, the silk robe having fallen open a bit more. “ - what do you taste like?”
His lips wandered all over the skin not hidden by the robe. Gwyn squirmed beneath him, already shaking with the anticipation of feeling that pure ecstasy brought upon her by his lips….his cock….whatever. If he would get to it.
He placed slow kisses along her inner thighs, she could feel his hot breath so close to her sex. “Fuck Az, please.”
He chuckled, “Impatient are we?”
Gwyn sat up on her elbows, the sight of him between her legs made her head spin. “Yes, I want your tongue on me right now, Shadowsinger.”
He smiled and obliged. Without taking his eyes off her, he gave her one, long lap up her folds, his tongue flicking her clit at the top. Gwyns head fell back with a groan. Gods that felt amazing, his tongue, his hands on her….
He licked again and again, giving more and more attention to her clit after every pass. His tongue swirled in delicious circles and Gwyn saw stars. She grasped his hair, pushing him down, commanding him to go deeper, do more. Azriel moaned, the sound shooting through her, rocking her from the inside out. He grasped her thighs in his hands, his fingertips digging into her skin, but he didn't oblige her this time. He continued teasing, stroking her clit in slow, methodical swipes of his tongue.
She ached to be filled and Azriel fucking knew it.
Gwyn was shaking, her hips bucking, as Azriel continued to deny her the fullness she sought as his tongue flicked faster. The overwhelming build of pleasure had started rising from her core, traveling up her spine, spreading throughout her limbs. If he continued, her orgasm would surely crash down around her -
But then he stopped. The sudden absence of him made her heart skip a beat. Gwyn let out an embarrassingly loud whimper as Azriel took a step back and removed his clothes, tossing them unceremoniously to the side.
Azriel's hands were on her robe before his shirt hit the floor. He untied it, exposing her fully to him and explored every plane of her body with his scarred fingertips. From her bruised collarbone, to her pert breasts, then finally, his fingers were on her sex - only touching her clit again.
“Az….please,” she whined. Gwyn was starving, needing the taste of his kisses as he entered her. Needing the feel of him filling her completely. Gwyn placed her hands on either side of his face and pulled him in. “If you make me wait one more second Shadowsinger -”
The corner of his mouth curled up slowly; his one finger continued its agonizingly slow tease.
Fuck this.
Gwyn wrapped her arms behind him, pulling him down for a kiss. Then she hooked her legs around Azriel's thighs and squeezed, locking him in her grip. Gwyn twisted her hips and rolled them over, keeping them locked in an embrace as she took control. She pulled away from the kiss as she came to straddle him, her hands sat firmly against his bare chest as she gazed down at the male underneath her.
Azriel gazed up at her watching her with pure adoration. She removed her robe, dropping it to the side. She could feel his hard length pressed against her ass. “You know I don't like to wait, Azriel.”
Gwyn shifted and taking his cock in her hand, she leaned back.
Her mouth popped open as she sunk slowly onto him. Having him inside her, filling her…fuck it was incredible. An overwhelmingly hot pressure of pleasure coursed through her. She sat fully back, another wave. She rolled her hips once. Another.
Gwyn moaned and fell forward. “Gods Azriel…” Azriel's hands ran down her body, his fingers grazing her shoulder blades, her entire back, until coming to grasp her ass, urging her to move. She took hold of his hands and brought them above his head, lacing their fingers together.
“You had your chance to be in charge, Az. It's my turn.”
Delight flashed in his eyes. “Yes goddess,” he whispered.
Azriel gasped and her hips rolled as she smirked.
“Good boy,” she whispered back. Holding his hands against the mattress she rocked against him, his cock hitting that sweet spot deep inside her every time. Driving her closer and closer to the edge; all the needing and wanting, teasing and touching.
It was almost too much.
Gwyn's face found the crook of his neck. She buried her face in his scent and kissed his skin, drinking in his very essence. The pressure built inside her, pushing and pushing. She rocked faster, harder.
Their breaths and heartbeats moved as one, their moaned and whimpers filled the room, drowning out whatever crooner song played in the background.
Gwyn pushed back harder and deep with each roll of her hips. Until it radiated out from her and she came crashing down. A loud, lewd moan escaped her lips as her orgasm washed over her with wave after wave of immense pleasure. Her moans turned to whimpers and tears streamed down her face. It was the most intense, all consuming orgasm she'd ever had.
“Gwyn…” Her name was like a prayer on his lips as Azriel's hands clasped hers, his own orgasm rocking through him.
Gwyn collapsed on top of Azriel, their bodies a heaving, sweating mess entangled together. She rolled over to lay beside him, gasping as she eased off his cock. “Fuck, Az…”
“Again?”
Gwyn laughed and sighed, “Definitely - just one moment.” Her head was still reeling from the pleasure that pulsed through her.
Azriel hooked a finger under her chin, lifting her face to his and kissed her ever so softly. “Take all the moments you need, Berdara.”
Moongazing
Sokka says “Suki!” with the exact same inflection and level of enthusiasm as he says “Boomerang!” and that’s really all you need to know about him as a person
Katara: Why would you give a knife to Toph?!
Zuko: She said she felt unsafe!
Katara: Well now I feel unsafe!
Zuko:
Katara:
Zuko, reaching inside his pocket: ... You want a knife?
There was a 24 hour mini @gish hunt this weekend. Things got...weird. 🤪 This was one item: a 180° view of your work from home office space. 🐙 Volume on! #gish #dnd #spnfamily #got #merlin #avengers #thewitcher #rickandmorty #bobsburgers https://www.instagram.com/p/B_fpcs9gf2X/?igshid=5rhhnz9huwn2
Another @gish item, take a nap! #gish #spnfamily https://www.instagram.com/p/B_fp4R9gbQ-/?igshid=1fadq7v8mkl2d
@gish Connor is now really good at balancing a curtain rod on his chin 🤣 Original song by me. 😜 #gish #spnfamily https://www.instagram.com/p/B_fqSy_AqWZ/?igshid=vxz6hjirn8d0
Two words: Tampon Jenga @gish thank you for giving me a new found use for all the tampons I have laying around in my house. #gish #spnfamily https://www.instagram.com/p/B_fqrf0g1Y-/?igshid=782511npfjwl
My Collection 💖❤🧡💛💚💙💜 #dice #dnd #dicegoblin #clickyclacky https://www.instagram.com/p/B84AlDjgJf6/?igshid=zwn2lt67o6d0
Preparing for a most wonderful time of the year. 🥰 A time to love oneself and others. A reminder, to keep love alive - not just for Valentine's Day, but for every day. 😘 #happyvalentinesday #mwah https://www.instagram.com/p/B8h-b-AAktv/?igshid=1qj962yi3eano
What a decade! 🎓 I went to college 👭🏻 Made lifelong friends 🇬🇧 Studied abroad in London 🎉 Graduated from Moravian - Class of 2015! #HoundEm 🐶 My mom surpised me with Lily 🥰 I met and fell in love with Connor 💉 I was diagnosed with cancer, then I beat cancer's ass like the boss ass bitch I am! 💪😎 I found my spirituality 🔮 I got a new job 💰 And lastly, I got a place of my own with Connor and my fur babies! 🏡 Here's to many more memories and achievements! 🍾🥂 Happy New Year!!! https://www.instagram.com/p/B6wUP3_g04H/?igshid=nsxph0ut9bkj
So I am going to debut this tiny halfling monk next week for our work DnD session! I am very excited to play her.
Monk Week: Martial Art Attack Generator
A special attack generator for the monk in your D&D party! Roll 1d100 on each table and put them together to create your monk’s secret technique!
edit: I missed the opportunity to put “Owlbear” instead of “Bear” in Table B. For best results, use Owlbear instead.
