Chapter 21
One hundred and ninety-six.
One hundred years, then ninety-six more after that. Nearly two hundred years living. It seemed so strange that Rhysand had been High Lord for only ten years. It had felt so much more than that. Perhaps since Arwen seldom spent time with her father if she could avoid it. Her father was a hard maleânot unkind in heart, but harsh. Her brother was the dominant male figure in her life both because she made him so and he chose to be.
Arwen leant forward, the points of her elbows driven into the wood of her vanity as she stared at herself in the mirror. Just awoken, a dark green set of a silk singlet and pants-clad her body, and her hair was unruly.
She hadn't slept well, but the reason for it was unknown even to her. Blinking heavily to wipe away the remaining blur of sleep, Arwen lethargically reached for her brush and began running it through her hair. It was her birthday after all, and she should look decent for it.
It was still early, with dawn just cracking the horizon. She should already have gone leaping on her brother's bed, as tradition called her to do but she couldn't bring herself to go bounding out of her room. Sometimes he beat her to it, but there wasn't any sound to signal his awakening.
Azriel hadn't returned. It had been a month since he left, and to the Mother knows where. Rhysand kept minimal contact as far as he told her, making sure he was still alive but according to him, the court was capable of functioning without a spymaster for some time. Arwen remembered that Azriel had told her he would be there for her birthday this year. It didn't seem that he would keep to his word, hearing no sign of him.
Arwen sat up straighter on the wooden stool, righting every inch of her posture until she resembled nothing less than grace in the mirror. She pulled her lips wider, setting them into a soft, manageable smile.
Good.
Looking back to the glass panes where the curtains had been drawn wide, the sun crept even further into the sky. Deeming that she let Rhysand have enough of a sleep in, Arwen left her bedchamber and manoeuvred across the hall. Nuala and Cerridwen smiled and bowed their heads in a quiet greeting, knowing to keep their voices down so early in the morning before the rest of the house awoke. Which would be soon if Arwen had her way. Which she always did.
Rhysand laid sprawled on his side, wings free from the void he hid them in. She stood just inside of the bedchamber, still not gathering the energy to leap onto his bed, but it wouldn't be her birthday without a ceremonial wake up.
Plucking one of the soft pillows from a plush seat, she pinched it tightly in one of the corners and strode closer to the bed. Rather unceremoniously, she rounded it down through the air and thwacked it against his head.
His entire body jolted. Despite being asleep seconds ago, Rhysand became conscious enough to snatch the pillow before she could even pull it back up. Arwen lurched forward at the hard tug to it as they silently wrestled for control of the weapon. Older, bigger, and strongerâhe won.
Lazily eyes fluttered open along with a crooked and tired smile as she fell onto the mattress. "G'morning," he grunted. "Feeling old yet?"
"Not until I'm your age." His knee jerked up from under the black sheet, hitting her thigh that lay on top. Arwen gave a small laugh of a single breath. "What's the plan for the day?"
With a waking sigh, he turned onto his back, wings disappearing. "We can do whatever you want until tonight."
"Tonight, huh?"
"Yes, and you're not finding out before then." Always the way. "Happy birthday, sweetheart."
Arwen smiled again, though it was more of a quick uplift of her lips than something sincere. Sliding from his bed, she headed downstairs and into the kitchen. Nuala quickly moved in, offering an entire menu of options to choose from for breakfast, but Arwen kindly brushed her aside and said she intended to make it herself.
It helped her, to have something to do. To not sit there impatiently and be served on. Ensuring not to spill anything on her nice sleep set, Arwen made a buffet's worth of food, knowing that Mor and Cassian would be down at any moment. Eggs, bacon, toast, arranged fruit. It took her at least an hour that she was more than happy to spend on it, almost disappointed that it came to an end.
"What's this?"
Half-turning to the kitchen's entrance, Arwen greeted Cassian with a soft smile. "Breakfast. Use your eyes General Commander, or I might recommend the position go to someone with more cunning observation skills."
He returned her taunt with a mocking sneer and sauntered into the kitchen, gazing across the selection of food laid out on the island table as she filled a jar with juice. As she moved closer to place it down, he drew her into a side hug and kissed the top of her head. "Happy birthday, kid."
"How old do I have to be until you stop calling me kid?"
"When you're older than me."
Arwen muttered something about the impossibility when Mor turned into the kitchen as well. It was like a beacon of sunshine, with the tossed golden hair bouncing at her shoulders with each step.
Even with all the warning of her opening arms, Arwen still grunted as she was pulled into a tight embrace. She ensnared Mor right back, savouring the comfort of her cousin. Nothing could ever replace the warmth of another female's presence.
"You're here early," she noted. It was a pathetic thing to say, as Arwen knew well how early they always came on this day. She had the buffet of food to prove so. But there was an unyielding need to say something and nothing else came to mind in time.
"I wanted to be the first to give my favourite cousin her present," Mor replied, handing over a brown package.
"Oi." Rhysand leant against the archway, frowning at being placed below her.
"Get over it, Rhysie," Mor crooned.
Arwen smiledâtruly this timeâat their continuing banter and tore part of the package open. Then promptly crumpled the tear close. Mor left Rhysand mid-insult to meet Arwen's flaming cheeks and grinned. "It's for you and you alone."
Arwen, ever-so conscious about what was most likely scandalising lingerie in the package of a dark, azure lace, blushed even harder. For her alone? Wasn't the point of it to show off to someone else? She looked down at the package again. It would show her body. Scars and all.
For her alone. It was for her to feel good in, for her to revel in her own skin. If she could.
"What is it?" Cassian pried, attempting to look over her shoulder. Arwen held it closer to her chest.
"For Arwen and Arwen alone," Mor repeated firmly.
Cassian took a moment to figure out what that meant, before frowning at the package. Arwen didn't look at Rhysand for her own salvation of dignity. "Thank you."
Mor tipped her head, accepting the short words of gratitude for the weight that Arwen carried them with. It wasn't lingerie. It was a movement toward acceptance of her body.
Finally moving into the kitchen, Rhysand declared, "Remind me to thank the twins for the feast."
Arwen didn't intend to argue with the assumption, but Cassian said, "Actually I think Arwen is the reason for our stomach's oncoming delight."
She pursed her lips, making a small nod of confirmation as their eyes turned on her. "You made this?" her brother inquired. She nodded again. He gave a soft laugh. "I know you're spoilt on a normal day, but usually even more so on this one."
"I felt like it," was her answer. Taking one of the stacked plates for herself, Arwen loaded on her breakfast as those around her began to follow suit.
"What are we going to do today?" Rhysand inquired, leaning past her for the juice.
Shrugging, she said, "I think I'm going to read for a few hours. Maybe finish that sketch I started the other day."
"That sounds rather... placid," he noted with bemusement. "Why don't we go into the city for a few hours?"
"Maybe later. I'm actually a little tired." Arwen turned her lips up into a smile again as she finished gathering her food and looked to her brother. He didn't return the gesture, which had her own faltering. "If you need to do some last minute gift shopping, don't let me stop you." She heard his light laugh as she turned around and headed into the dining room.
It was in there that she was given her presents from Cassian: a new sketchbook, an assortment of different pencil types that she had been moaning about growing short on, and a textbook of the anatomy of Illyrians. Arwen frowned at the last one, until Cassian made a silent gesture between her, the sketchbook then at himself with flexed muscles. Mor nearly snorted out her egg. Rhysand promised that she would have his present later.
After breakfast, as Arwen intended, she lay across the lounge in the sitting room with the romance book she had picked up a few days prior. She was prompted once more to spend her day outside, Cassian even offering to return to the teashop but Arwen wanted nothing more than to laze around like a house cat, not even changing from her nightwear.
As she came near to the end of her current chapter, a shadow appeared at her shoulder which was pushed against the arm of the lounge. "If you're tired, maybe you should go take a few hours sleep," Rhysand murmured in her ear. "I have something planned for tonight and I don't want you barely keeping your eyes open."
Arwen's nose flared with a quiet exhale and closed her book. Maybe she would. It would be a shame, for both her and his efforts if she couldn't enjoy the coming night. Before a response from her could come, however, the town house's front door opened.
Arwen sat up, head snapping in its direction with a hammering heart.
Amren strode through. Her heart calmed. "Happy birthday girl. It took me over a month to track one of these down." The ancient being thrust a small box towards her that was no larger than her palm. Rhysand's curious gaze told her he had no idea what it was either.
Arwen pried the box open. Inside, perched on a maroon bed of velvet, was a ring. It was silver and set with a single gemstone, light and almost opalescent. Moonstone. "Thank you," Arwen murmured. It was truly beautiful, simple as the design was. In fact, she rather liked how delicate it was.
"It's enchanted," Amren continued, arms loosely crossed over her stomach. Arwen looked back up at her, then down at the ring.
"Enchanted?" Rhysand echoed.
"It can dampen magic."
"You meanâ"
"Yes. You shouldn't be falling through anything with it on."
Arwen clutched the box tighter. It had happened twice more since her waking underneath the house. Once when she was in the city, falling right through one of the bridges and into the Sidra again, and another time when they had been eating dinner. Arwen still hadn't even been able to go up to the House of Wind in fear that she might plummet right through the mountain itself.
"Think of it like training wheels. It won't take your power away and doesn't enhance it, but it will pacify it. It can't hold stronger magic down either but once you're that strong, you'll be able to control it yourself."
She slid the jewel onto her finger. There was no shimmer of magic, or shiver through her body to signify it was working, but Arwen trusted that Amren had some idea what she was doing. "Thank you."
Amren nodded.
The day past unusually slowly. Arwen couldn't tell if it was in anticipation of what the night would bring or is the world was following her wish of slowing down so it wouldn't come at all. Not that she didn't look forward to her brother's efforts, which never ceased to be beyond her expectations, but there was a part of her today that felt like it was wrong to be celebrating.
In the evening, with a warning from her brother to get ready for a night out, Arwen stood in her chamber. She lingered at the foot of her bed, looking down at it where she had her dress of choice laid out. A velvet black with a dangerous slit along the front of both thighs. The neckline was generous but appropriate for even the most formal of restaurants and the sleeves were skintight to her wrists. It was the perfect choice for anything that might come her way that evening.
A soft knock broke her from staring. Arwen welcomed them in, smiling as Mor slid into her room. The blonde grinned at the dress. "I was hoping you'd wear that one."
"Considering you chose it for the Starfall before last, I'm not surprised that you like it."
"Why haven't you put it on then?"
Arwen pushed her tongue to the back of her teeth. "Because once I do, I'll be ready to go."
Mor placed a hand on her back. "Cassian is getting impatient." Arwen managed a second-lasting smirk. "Rhys is also worried," she added. "I told him you were just tired."
Arwen tipped her head towards her cousin. "Rhys is always worrying."
The blonde chuckled and made a flashing agreement with her eyes before they sobered. "Do you not want to go tonight? I know you'll enjoy it so at least come see but you can leave at any time."
"I know I'll enjoy it," Arwen said, leaning down to pinch the end of the dress skirt. "It's just... Once we leave for whatever he's got planned, then we're gone."
"And Azriel won't be there."
She turned to Mor. For all that she had tried to hide that thought from even herself, Arwen was relieved to know that Mor could see the confliction. "He said he wouldn't miss it." The lingering in the town house, the desire for the day to not passâall in hopes that he wouldn't suddenly turn up at the door. Once they left for the evening, it would only confirm that he wouldn't be coming.
Mor squeezed the back of her shoulder, then swerved in front of Arwen. A finger lifted the half-Illyrian's chin as a blaze of confidence swept across Mor's face. "This is your day, Arwen. You control it. I did not teach you to let some Illyrian males be in command of what you feel. My gift to you was not for the pleasure of a maleâit is for you to take acceptance of yourself. We do not let men take command of us."
Bittersweet tears ran fresh to Arwen's eyes. She nodded, slowly at first, then hastily. "Cauldron," she muttered, wiping fiercely at her eyes so the water did not ruin the kohl lining them. "I'll try telling Rhysand that next time he gives me an order," she chuckled.
"I'd love to see that."