A Court of 'I love you, idiot'
Synopsis: takes place post-Acosf, Gwyn returns to training after a long time of relishing in the sanctity of the library to chase away the lingering horrors of the Blood Rite. She seems to be ready to face the world, for real this time. In doing so, she further forms a friendship with Azriel; however, is it more than mere friendship blooming between them.....?
Content warning: Gwyn briefly reminiscing Catrin and there is a very tiny implication of SA she suffered
author's note: sooo.. this is my first ever fic... and of course it had to be on my OTP.... I have included almost everything I want in a Gwynriel romance...sooooo enjoy 🩷🩷
divider credit: @thecutestgrotto
Golden beams of light from the far east horizon flickered weakly about the vacant training ring. The wind carried a small whisper of promise of the coming autumn. All around, it was quiet and still, except for a few early birds already on the hunt for food for their hatchlings. A very peaceful start to the day.
The rhythmic click of boots invaded the quiet that had enveloped the pit in the early hours of dawn. Eventually it stopped, as the person halted near a tall, wooden beam at the heart of the arena.
Running her fingers along its sturdy frame, Gwyn looked up, expecting to see a strand of white ribbon beating rebelliously against the silent gush of the wind. However, no piece of white fabric was found to be fixed on the hinges of the post. A crinkle formed between her brows as Gwyn wondered where the piece of ribbon could have disappeared to.
It had been a long time since she had tamed and successfully beaten the adversary. Gwyn could remember vividly how she, Emerie and Nesta struggled to cut the ribbon, which seemed to taunt them like a rival every time they missed. It was essential to cut it, however, and so they began intense drills in training, perfecting every single angle and every precise move of their swords with pristine determination and resolve. Their sole intent fixated on slicing the dainty, ivory strand of fabric in half. Furthermore, the daily dagger-handling lessons with the Shadowsinger, monotonous as they were, had come to be extremely handy, as they broadened her prowess and gave her an advantage when she was faced with the challenge of the ribbon. And for that, she felt immensely grateful to the Shadowsinger, who had willingly agreed to train her every day for an hour.
All her labour and practice had been fruitful. She had cut the ribbon in her first attempt. Thanks to her never-ending determination and resolve, Gwyn was the first to cut the ribbon among all the trainees. The first Valkyrie reborn. It felt monumental back then, when Nesta tied one half of the cut ribbon over her brows. It felt powerful. It felt like a revival. And for a brisk moment, Gwyn had let herself believe that maybe she could brave the world that lay outside, waiting for her, in the same way she had braved the challenge. Maybe she wouldn't have to be afraid anymore. Maybe she could finally move forward from her past. And Catrin would be so proud.
Gwyn blinked away what seemed to be unshed tears. Catrin. Her brilliant twin. Whose life had been unfairly snatched away. She would have loved it here. She would have loved Nesta and Emerie. She would have loved to train with her every day. Gwyn's heart clenched at the thought of what could have been if the world was a little less cruel to those who dreamed big. Catrin never ran out of ambition. She wanted to travel the world. See all its splendours. But, it never deserved her, her light, her dreams.
Gwyn ushered the thoughts of Catrin, which would normally haunt her at the dead of the night, away to the lone corners of her mind. She had to be strong. Strong for herself. That's what Cat would have wanted for her. And then in the end, when Gwyn would finally take her last, frail breath, she would tell her dearest sister every little detail of her adventures, and in another, less cruel life, they would both get to live those together.
Now Gwyn looked up at the post for a second time, and still no ribbon in sight. She trailed her finger through her braid, where the strand of ribbon Nesta had crowned her with, was coiled in a neat tangle of rich copper. One half of a whole. The other half was gone. Like two kindred spirits forcibly separated. Like her and Catrin. Gwyn had to abruptly extinguish the bitter analogy.
Her silent thoughts were interrupted by the heavy thuds of boots, inching closer to where she was standing. She looked up to the source and perceived a tall figure with the outline of wings and the swirling obsidian mist that moved as if it were sentient. Shadows. Azriel. What is he doing here at this time?
Azriel came to stop a few yards in front of her. He didn't seem to be thrown off guard by her unexpected presence in the ring, as he regarded her with his seemingly relaxed stance, his wings tucked in.
"Good morning" , he greeted her, with a normalcy that came with being friends with someone for a long time.
"Morning, shadowsinger", she greeted him with the same friendly stance.
Azriel seemed to take her in for a few moments, as she could deduce by the way his eyes bored into her expression. Gwyn remembered that they hadn't seen eye to eye in a long time, since she returned to the sanctity of the library to chase away the lingering terrors of the Blood Rite. Their dagger lessons also had come to a halt.
The silence between them seemed to stretch, although not in an awkward way. She offered him a small smile, which he returned with a small quirk of lips.
He broke the silence first, "So how are you doing?". His tone was somewhat casual, though his expression didn't seem to betray any emotion. Always the unyielding gleam in his hazel eyes.
"I am doing alright", she spoke, matching his casual tone. "How are you?"
"I am doing fine as well"
Azriel regarded her with a glimmer of..... curiousity? His gaze was unyielding, slightly bordering on a stance of emotion? Gwyn thought back to the night of Solstice some years ago. Back then, the Shadowsinger had been amiable. He had stayed with her even though she had given him an out, as she knew he preferred to keep to himself. She had even gotten him to reveal that he apparently sings. Gwyn wondered if he had ever sung a complete song in the presence of people.
Gwyn looked away from him and looked back at the post. Turning back to Azriel, she slightly tilted her head, raising her brows, she asked, "Have you seen the remaining half of the ribbon ?"
Azriel seemed to break from a trance. She noticed how his gaze was intently fixed on her face...was he perhaps looking at her freckles? He blinked twice.
"Uh, no, no, I haven't seen it". His reply didn't seem to convince her. There was a whisper of something in his tone, a fraction of defence. Even his serious demeanour seemed to falter ever so remotely as he answered her enquiry. Nevertheless, it seemed to her that he was hiding something, although she didn't understand why she was getting suspicious. His typical stoic expression had returned.
"Hmm", she looked away from him and stared at the far horizon where the first rays of the morning were greeting the expanse of blue overhead with hues of bright gold.
"Why do you ask?" Her eyes snapped back to him. This time she could clearly see the curiosity etched on his expression.
"Oh, I was just wondering if it was still there. It had been a long time since.. I cut it..."
It had indeed been a long time. A long time indeed. She sometimes regretted retreating back into the library, despite its comfort and safety. Even though Nesta and Emerie had visited her almost every week, Gwyn felt as though she had lost precious time with her found sisters. Precious bonding times. They have assured her that they will be waiting for her, always waiting for her, and she could come out whenever she felt like it, and that they would continue with their sleepovers and reading a great deal of salacious smut.
"You, you left the library"
Azriel's voice held an undertone of admiration that could have been left undetected had she not been paying attention.
"Oh yeah, I did", she really did, although she still wasn't sure if she was fully ready to train again. But she would try. And this time, she would brave the world. Let it throw all its cruelties at her. This time, she wouldn't turn back. She would fight. With Nesta and Emerie. With Catrin, who would always linger with her.
If Gwyn wasn't looking at him, she would have easily missed the hint of a smile that tugged at his lips.
"I am proud of you, Berdara"
He said he was proud of her. It felt strangely intimate. No one had ever told her that they were proud of her. But Azriel did. He had witnessed her progress. And he was there at her lowest, at her worst. Gwyn shut out the memory. However, hearing Azriel admitting he was proud of her....It made her heart flutter? That's... No, her heart hadn't fluttered or whatever. It was mere validation from a trainer who had scrutinised her progress.
One of his shadows drifted over to her. It swept along her hair, and then brushed across her cheek. A misty cool sensation laced along her skin momentarily, but not too cold to shiver.
She gave it a warm smile. Azriel's shadows had always fascinated her. They seemed to have a mind of their own. She wondered if they also had different personalities; could he tell them apart? Surely he could communicate with them? So many questions about those swirling mists forged from night, that pledged their loyalties to their master. So curious about his shadows that always lingered around him as if they were a part of his being, like they were his sole companions.
"Oh, excuse them..." Azriel threw a glare at his shadows, then looked at her apologetically.
Gwyn giggled. "No, it's perfectly fine". The shadows made a motion around her, swelling up and tangling themselves in the copper strands of her braid. They were dancing? At least that's what it seemed to her. And she found it endearing. She lifted her wrist, as if she was offering them an amicable handshake, and some curled around her fingers, brushing up to her elbow, leaving a soft, cool caress across her skin.
The corners of Azriel's mouth quirked up, "They seem to like you"
"Yes". His voice carried a whisper of fascination. "Looks like they are, curious".
"Ah...must I be concerned then?" In truth, Gwyn felt something warm settling in her chest as the shadows continued to play around her like jubilant children without a care in the world. She wasn't concerned in the slightest; rather, she enjoyed it, their friendly notion towards her as though she was their friend.
Azriel chuckled. It was a pleasant note. Quite unlike the serious demeanour that he usually wears. "Oh, I don't know.... they have never been like this... with anyone really"
"Really? Not even your friends?" A small crinkle formed between her brows as she tilted her head.
"Not even with them. I think you are special" He cast his gaze downwards, and Gwyn swore there was a faint tinge of pink blooming on his cheeks.
"What I meant was- was that- I think they are curious about you"
Oh. That's something. Curious. Well, that was certainly mutual on Gwyn's part.
She smiled. Did he just stutter? He is the unyielding, serious Shadowsinger of the Night Court. Surely people like him don't just stutter out of nowhere?
Gwyn put that thought aside. "Well, I was considering restarting training". One shadow glided around her shoulders as she spoke, her eyes trailing its path as it made its way back to its master.
"Oh, were you? Well, I think it would be a pleasure to have you back, Berdara." His brows raised, he regarded her with quiet encouragement. Some weight seemed to settle in Gwyn that she had no idea she was carrying until now. It was the weight of the uncertain future that lay ahead. It was always a turmoil inside her mind: one time she would be ready to face the world, the next time she would seem to cower.
Her eyes found his, and in the deep orbs of hazel, she detected something close to understanding. He gave a nod, as if to assure her that there wasn't any need to rush, that she could take it in her own pace. In return, she offered him a small smile.
"Uh, thanks. I think we can start tomorrow, then"
The training ring was now fully bathed in the warm rays of the sun. Gwyn felt the promise of a fresh start, a brand new day, as she made a resolve to start her life anew and live, truly live and appreciate every tiny blessing the world has to offer her, without the ghosts of the past chasing her.
"Okay, so.. see you tomorrow then", she threw back at Azriel as she walked back to exit the ring, but not before adding a frisky retort of "Shadowsinger" at the end of her farewell.
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