Thoughts, memories and visions all habitually blurred in the early hours of the morning, when the rest of the world was still fast asleep. Her prophetic mind would run amok, showing her things that had yet to pass, but equally triggering scenarios born of anxiety, of a deeper worry about her loved ones--things that, in her waking hours, she would be able to keep at bay by keeping herself busy. A slumberous state was a whole different challenge for her, though.
On this day, however, being up hours before everyone else played to her advantage, for once. Keeping her hands busy also served to distract the mind, but today, she works with purpose. Baking, plucking, tending. By the time she finished, the once pristine fabrics of her dress were covered in a mixture of flour and dirt, streaks of cinnamon down the sides from where she realized her busy mind had forgotten to put on an apron and just...rolled with it. Washing could be done later. This could not wait.
The scent of that same cinnamon filled the kitchen as she arranged freshly baked rolls on a tray, along with a cup of herbal tea and a bouquet of wildflowers that were very clearly home-grown, nurtured by her own hands until she'd plucked them, just for this occasion. The bouquet consisted of various shades of blue, and at the center, a single, dethorned rose of a color not unlike the Shadowsinger's siphons. It made her slightly anxious to think of the silly amount of effort and thought she'd put into this, and how he might possibly receive it, but she pushed past that as she picked up the tray and made for the stairs.
Like everyone else in Velaris, he was still fast asleep when she made the bold move to push past the threshold of his bedroom, and she made certain to keep the noise to a minimum as she placed the tray on his bedside table. She hovered there for a moment, uncertain of what to do next, then sucked in a deep breath and, upon its release, lowered herself to a seating position on a vacant spot on the bed, next to him. A single hand reached for the dark tresses of hair that fell partially on his face, pushing them back to uncover his features---far outdoing anyone she'd ever laid eyes upon in terms of beauty, but also the depth of him. The thought alone sent an involuntary shiver coursing down her spine. Then, she leaned in to place the gentlest kiss on the cheekbone she'd just uncovered.
"Happy birthday, Azriel."
