No matter how many Dramione stories I read, the shift from 'Granger' to 'Hermione' and from 'Malfoy' to 'Draco' does inexplicable things to my heart. every. fucking. time.
How is that Taichi x Yamato is not canon? Every time they are together there is so much tension going between them that is impossible not to think they are going to end up punching or kissing each other. Or both.
A/N: Here ya go folks! I rewrote this chapter twice and I still kind of hate it but it is what it is, enjoy!
Her first kiss. Gwyn kept her back pressed against the cool wood of the door. It was several seconds before she felt Azriel’s presence moving back down the hall.
She let out a long breath, and clapped a hand to her mouth to stifle the giggle that seemed to be forcing its way out.
Her first kiss and it was Azriel.
The shadowsinger, the big bad Illyrian spymaster.
It was the powerful male who cut people down without hesitation. The one who others whispered about.
The one who had held her so softly in the morning light. The one who had taken her hand so hesitantly as they walked through the halls...
The one she had to see for training tomorrow morning.
Nesta and Cassian would probably be missing, presumably still in bed. Emerie would be absent too if her friends smudged lipstick was anything to go by.
It was funny, Gwyn didn’t remember Emerie wearing lipstick earlier in the night, but when she came back after disappearing for two hours, Gwyn had politely pointed out the smudged crimson on her lips. A crimson that suited a ruffled blonde who entered the hall minutes later.
Gwyn couldn’t blame Mor, Emerie had looked fabulous in an orange gown tonight, wings gleaming, and hair braided with her Valkyrie ribbon. The blonde didn’t stand a chance.
Neither did Emerie apparently, as she disappeared with the Morrigan minutes before Gwyn herself had left the gathering.
Nesta too had been striking in a midnight gown. She had gotten ready in her own rooms. And if the the smug male air around Cassian was anything to go by, she had had to get ready a second time as well.
Gwyn was truly happy for her friends. Even if her only comforts were smutty novels, thoughts of scarred hands and her own fingers.
Alone with Azriel tomorrow. Maybe he’d pretend nothing happened. Maybe she should pretend nothing happened.
It was only earlier tonight she had been furious with him for ignoring her. It was embarrassment that truly fueled her anger, but the point remained that he had ignored her for three days.
It was Nesta’s idea to dance with another male tonight. Jurian was the first to offer, but when she looked up from her dance with the human, Azriel was simply in conversation with Rhysand.
So she drank and danced on. Only when he had slipped into a quiet hallway did she decide to follow him.
He was leaning against the wall when she rounded the corner. He had immediately uncrossed his arms, tucking his hands behind his back, under those magnificent wings.
Then she had taken his hidden hand and they had walked until her doorway. Then she had kissed him and everything seemed to fit into place.
Fit so perfectly that Gwyn had to flee before she decided to discover how other things would fit.
***
Morning dawned cold and grey. Gwyn slid into her leathers, ignoring the headache pounding through her temples. The other priestesses were attending an early morning mass, their own celebration of Starfall. Which meant it was only Azriel who stood in the early morning light.
The shadows clambered over his shoulders to reach out to her. She waved at one and could have sworn it waved back.
Azriel was fumbling with the handle of a sword, he quickly turned his back to her and Gwyn walked over to begin her stretches.
She began her own drills as Azriel ran through his. It had been about an hour and neither had said a word.
It was getting too awkward.
“Would you like to spar?” Her question cut through the chilly air like a sharp blade through paper.
Azriel started where he stood slicing at an invisible foe. “Of course.”
He replaced his sword on the rack and Gwyn quickly cast her own blade aside.
She had been suggesting sparring with steel but Azriel clearly wanted hand to hand combat.
They entered the small circle on the ground from opposite sides. A few feet away from him but she could’ve sworn she heard his heartbeat.
A blush was high across his cheekbones, probably from exertion, and it deepened as their eyes met.
Gwyn moved first, a feint, then a strike low to the abdomen. Azriel saw the move coming and his wings flared as he stepped out to dodge. Another strike but it glanced off his chest.
It was Gwyn’s turn to duck as a swing came next, then she was in close, fists ready to strike and the world tilted.
Gwyn slammed into the hard earth and rolled. She swept Azriels feet from under him, then swung herself over his hips.
Face to face, him pinned beneath her, hands bracketed in scarred hands. He didn’t even fight, just stared up at her. Breathing each other in. Feeling every inch of where they touched.
“Well done.” Azriel’s voice was oddly rough.
Gwyn unfroze and jumped up reaching out a hand to help him up. This had the fortunate side affect of placing them face to face while both horizontal.
Or rather face to chest as he was significantly taller than her.
Gwyn was being an idiot. He hadn’t said a word about the incident last night and she was still furious at him for… something. Her memory seemed to be impaired by his proximity.
Taking initiative, Gwyn stepped backwards, turned swiftly and snatched back up her blade from where she had left it. This occupied her hands so they would not find their way into his hair.
“With steel this time?” Gwyn’s voice sounded strained to her own ears, but Azriel seemed not to notice as he strode to retrieve his own weapon.
He fumbled slightly with the hilt again. If anything Gwyn would suppose he seemed nervous.
That was extremely unlikely. They’d sparred hundreds of times and he’d been to wars and back. Perhaps his shadows had whispered some dangerous information to him that he was still in shock over.
He seemed to gather himself, then marched resolutely over to her. She readied her stance but he didn’t even raise his sword.
Azriel merely stood in front of her and opened his mouth.
Then closed it again.
Then opened it again.
This time he managed words. “I understand that you were tipsy last night, and that you may not even remember, but we kissed. You kissed me. By your door. Of your room.”
Gods was he embarrassed?
“I just thought,” He hurried on, “I’d let you know that should you want me to completely forget that happened, I will forget. Well maybe not forget but I swear I will never mention it again, and should-“
“Azriel,” Gwyn gripped his arm, “I was aware of my actions last night. I apologise if I put you in an uncomfortable situation-“
“No!” Azriel exclaimed, “No, not at all, I wasn’t uncomfortable, I just didn’t want to put you in an awkward position.”
He was blushing and that somehow emboldened her. Perhaps it was the hangover and leftover lowered inhibitions.
“Azriel, you can put me in any position you would like.”
His head snapped up, eyes darkening.
He stepped closer.
They were almost nose to nose.
“You, Gwyneth Berdara, are dangerous.”
She smiled softly.
His gaze dipped to her mouth.
His hand reached towards her cheek.
It drew back.
A noise behind her on the stairs.
Azriel’s eyes flicked over her shoulder and he stepped away.
“Azriel, Gwyn. I hope we’re not interrupting anything.”
Gwyn spun to see Nesta and Emerie climbing up the stairs.
“We can come back… if you…”
“No,” Azriel’s voice was low as he pushed past her, “I’m leaving now anyway”
He turned back at the top of the stairs, “Goodbye Gwyn”
Gwyn was close to punching her friends.
All malice washed away however, when Azriel had disappeared into the darkness of the house and the other Valkyries descended into fits of giggles.
Nesta was the first to surface, “Gwyn! What the fuck were you two doing up here?”
“Sparring,” came the indignant response. “Just training and drills!”
“Oh I’m sure,” drawled Emerie, “That’s why I can smell the arousal hanging thicker than cream in this air.”
Nesta snorted, “Must have been some very interesting drills.”
A/N: ooooo it’s heating up. Someone guide the two of them, they’re helpless.
Okay but Falcon and the Winter Soldier ABSOLUTELY needs a second season. The name might have to change but Sam as Cap deserves the extended real estate of TV series and not movies. Sam and Bucky's friendship has barely begun and episode 5 genuinely felt like a Captain America show to me. We need more of this. Sam deserves it. Bucky deserves it. The writers and the creators deserve it. FATWS absolutely should NOT be a one off. This season feels barely like the beginning. GIVE IT TO US.
Me: oh DOPE I can’t wait to find out what that power does in the next book!
ACOWAR: the power is death. Maybe, probably. She might be able to do something with a wall... nope wall is broken. She felt it though. Also she can blast white death just like the Illyrians? But it’s different? Ice flames, apparently?
Me: man that’s cool, can’t wait for the post war book when we really dive into what this does and she gets control of it!
ACOFAS: Nesta is very depressed. Power nowhere to be seen. Oh wait... sometimes it breaks things when no one is around?
Me: Ok. Fine. I get it. Saving the big complicated explanation of life and death and the cauldron and all the things this power can do for Nesta’s book. That’s fair. I’m excited to finally know though!!
ACOSF: The power IS death.
Me: Cool. What does that mean?
ACOSF: It makes silver flames in her eyes and grey dream mist. Cassian finds this hot.
Me: Right. Yeah. But what does it DO?
ACOSF: She can find trove items with it. And Make things.
Me: That’a an interesting side thing. But what is it ACTUALLY?
ACOSF: The power is now gone.
Me: 👁👄👁
ACOSF: NOT ALL OF IT THOUGH! Plus there’s a fun new connection with the mother!
Me: ohhh ok. So... in the NEXT book we’ll really get to know what it is/was?
origamiaround
gamechangershow
