ellabrownbooks

[ellabrownbooks]

A fluffy gwynriel story

Azriel settled into his velvet armchair, secluded in the corner of the room. He preferred staying out of sight. Pulling back the curtains in the same dark plum hue as the chair, he looked out across the river Sidra. Moving blobs speckled his view, drifting in and out. He let the curtain go, allowing the fabric to caress his scarred fingers for a few moments more. He was reminded of a certain redhead’s actions earlier in the day. Although admittedly, he had been the one instigating the caressing. “Well done, Gwyn. You might be able to beat Cassian soon,” he had joked. “Not you?”, she cheekily replied. “Not a chance”, he retorted with a smug grin on his face. As she tenderly rolled her eyes, one wisp of shadow spiralled close to his right ear. He had made his face into a practiced expression of serene calmness, but inside his mind had stilled like the frozen Sidra many decades ago. Roasted chestnuts, his brothers, seeing his breath all floated up to him like memories. It was funny to think she hadn’t even been born into this world yet. Just waiting in the corridors. In a tone many shades more serious than before, he replied: “The day you beat me, truly beat me, will be the proudest moment of my life.” He worried he had overstepped, but on reflection, she seemed alright, maybe he would even let himself think pleased. He had always been a shy, awkward child, not knowing what to say and when. His friends, the shadows, had helped to smooth over any awkward moments but with Gwyn, it took real coaxing to get them to speak. He wondered if their allegiance was shifting or…already had. His thoughts returned back to the crime thriller in his hands. The torturer scene was laughable but the overall plot pleased him and at least it was a break from his usual dry researching. He slowly felt his eyes drooping and decided that it was probably best to stop there. His late-night training sessions with Gwyn were taking a toll on his energy. He wanted to be able to train at more friendly hours but recently that hadn’t been possible and Gwyn seemed as if she wanted to be there no matter the time. Something about not being able to sleep. He should really look into that.  

A fair set of hands attempted to pick up the book from between his hands and smothered a giggle at his odd mid-sleep expression, hunched over the book like someone even more studious than Merrill. Her mission to stay silent failed in the most tremendous of fashions when she knocked over the wine glass on the oak side table onto the floor in a less than elegant manner. A hint of a smile appeared on a now awake Azriel. “So gentle, my dear.”, he teased. Upon hearing the first part, she had all manners of retorts planned, primed to fire, but the endearment quietened her completely. He had been calling her sweet things more and more often recently and each time she foolishly allowed herself to hope, to dream. He outstretched each hand to the side in an inviting way and without thinking twice, she clambered onto him. Whether he was surprised or pleased, she didn’t know. He always was impossible to read, but she vowed that she would spend her life trying to find out more about him, her enigma. She curled herself into a ball and whispered for him to go back to sleep. He slowly circled his fingers on the curve of her back and the rhythmic up-and-down of his chest sent her off into a dreamless nap.

An Illyrian warrior bounded into the room, not caring one bit about sound until he spotted the two cocooning creatures huddled in the corner. He let out a low breath and stared in silence for a while before going upstairs to warm his mate’s bed. The shock was quickly replaced with undiluted joy as Cassian had always wanted his often-lonesome brother to find a mate. Since the first couple of one-on-one training sessions between him and Gwyn, he had thought they had something, but this confirmed it. To some, using another as a bed might not be much but to these two tortured souls, it meant everything. He hoped with all the goodness of his heart that these two would be together until darkness died.

Darkness had fully embraced the sun when Azriel first started to stir, but the moon and the stars had attended the party as well. By his estimations there were still several hours until sunrise. The starlight outlined his beautiful sleeping partner, curled up in his arms. Cassian had tried for over three hundred years to spoil Azriel’s perfected mask but in the six hundred years of his long life no one had ever come as close as Gwyneth Berdara. He suspected she would be the first in many things to come. He waited several minutes in the dark, contemplating how this beautiful creature had bounded her way into his life. What had he done to deserve such an amazing woman? He knew the answer: nothing. Perhaps the Mother was playing a trick on him, taunt him with the possibility of her before revealing her to be promised to someone else. At times like this, doubt buried itself deep into Azriel’s mind and latched on with claws outstretched. The calm being in his arms began to jostle in his arms, vigorously shaking her head from left to right. She began muttering over and over something unintelligible. A dread anchored itself in the pits of Azriel’s stomach. He frantically rallied his shadows to attempt to pull her out and sending the urgency of the situation they obeyed instantaneously. A small yawn escaped her lips and a slightly dazed Gwyn looked up at him. “I’m here.”, he said. “I know.”, she replied with a soft smile. “Thank you.” “You don’t have to thank me.” said Azriel in as few words as possible, but after a moment, remembered his manners and offered Gwyn some hot milk. “That would be lovely, thank you. I can help too.” Knowing better to protest, Azriel gently lifted her out of his arms and onto the floor but not before kissing her fiery red hair with the softest of touches. The light pitter of their feet (more so hers than his) continued into the kitchen where Azriel began heating some milk. Never one to keep silence, Gwyn asked, “Why did you offer hot milk?”. Azriel knew this had been coming, had anticipated her curiosity behind his offer. “My mother.”, replied Azriel. Gwyneth’s eyes reflected the light a little more as she gently squeezed Azriel’s fingertips. She thanked him and threaded her fingers through his as they made their way out of the room. Although Azriel deeply wished to show her his room, he happily returned with her to where they had once been.

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