Chapter 22
Now dressed, Arwen adjusted the silver chain around her neck with a teardrop diamond. It was no surprise at the light shuffle of a new pair of feet at her door. Rhysand smiled, hands deep in the pockets of his pants. He was dressed impeccably, with a black tunic with silver tendrils at the collar and trimmings, his trousers the same shade.
"We're matching," Arwen mused, deliberating whether she should put on earrings as well. She had shoved thoughts of certain people out of her mind, determined to enjoy her night as Mor requested her to. "It's embarrassing. Go change."
Rhysand scoffed and moved beside her so she could see him in the mirror as she hooked the earrings that matched the necklace into her earlobes. "And here I thought we looked cute."
Arwen hummed in amusement. "I'm coming down in a minute. Tell Cassian if he's that impatient he can meet us there."
"I let him visit my wine collection to mull him over," he said. "Take as long as you need."
Leaning back straight, she shrugged. "I'm done now."
Rhysand leant closer to her ear, winking softly. "Almost. I haven't given you my present." He extracted his hands from his pockets, one tightly furled to hide whatever was inside. "Well, I can't say it's entirely from me as it was never mine to give, but I did spend over a year trying to track this down for you."
Arwen's lips parted, a sudden swell of interest not letting her eyes move as his hand stretched out closer to her. His fingers unfurled and what they revealed had air catching in her throat. It was a silver chain. It was long, not linked as a necklace would be. Every inch along it were silver leaves hanging in a way that made it look like a vine.
It was her mother's. Given to her by their father soon after the completion of their mating ceremony. Over the years, she had worn it less and after she died, Arwen couldn't find it anywhere. "For me?" she could only croak.
Rhysand chuckled. "I did try it on, but I don't think it suited me."
Arwen shook her hands, not yet taking it from him and turned back around to the mirror. She divided the hair that had been hanging over her chest into three sections. Taking the chain, she weaved it into two and braided her hair.
"I know it's small," he said as she tied off the end. "Butâ"
"It's perfect."
He stood just behind her shoulder, their smiles mirroring in the reflection. Her braid had the thin chain threaded throughout, the small leaves a vine of silver. "You look like her. I think that every time I see you."
Arwen's tilted her head. "I'm sorry to be a reminder."
He smiled wider. "A good one. Come on, no doubt the night has already started without us."
The partial Inner Circle, including Amren, strode through the city of starlight under the blanket of its namesake. Arwen prodded them with questions but her only answer was that she would see it soon enough. They walked through and past many places that she consideredârestaurants, theatres, clubs. They kept walking across to the far side of the city to...
To the Rainbow.
Arwen heard the music before she saw it all. It was the light, quick music meant for dancing and celebration; merry and wild. The Rainbow was always open into the night, as all parts of the city were, but never quite like what lay before her.
It was a festival, with dancers, musicians, artists, faeries of all kinds roaming the Rainbow. Coloured faelights were strung, staining the walls in different shades. Market stalls were sprawled along the streets, artists selling wares, jewellers showcasing their latest designs. A serving boy served her wine who seemed to have a never-ending supply of it, others walking around with treats and delicacies on silver platters. Children ran between legs, chasing each other with streamers on wands.
It was a beautiful celebration of art. Not just a day for her, but one that all could enjoy.
"So how did I do?" Rhysand inquired, sipping at his own dark drink. Arwen danced on her toes, squealing as she moved from one vendor to the next, admiring artwork posted on display. Rhysand laughed to himself as Cassian clapped his shoulder.
"Should have saved this for her two-hundredth," he said, earning a look of agreement from the High Lord.
"Don't remind me."
Rhysand was barely able to keep her moving along, and although he had ordered the festival to live far into the night, he didn't want her energy to fall before they made it to the epicentre of the Rainbow. The music grew louder to the point that had had to acutely raise his voice to be heard and took Arwen by the hand to keep her by his side.
The epicentre of the Rainbow, a large, open plaza underneath a grand gazebo hosted a band that was almost a complete orchestra. Faeries danced in the centre, both with and without partners. Rhysand had prepared something to say to mark the highlight of the night of her birthday, but all that came out was a small yelp as she hauled him amidst the dancers. Cassian and Mor joined in with them, falling into a lively dance. Amren decided to find a quiet seat.
Arwen laughed as she barely kept her feet on a twirl, purposefully stepping on Rhysand's toes whenever he danced too rough or fast. The music was never-ending, barely giving them a chance to realise a song had closed before another came.
She was sweating, her throat hoarse and her heels were a terrible choice. But by the Mother, she loved it all. Her ears prized every note, her feet moving in steps that she couldn't even remember learning. They stopped for another drink and even Cassian had become subjected to pants and tied up his hair to remove it from his neck on the warm, summer's night.
Arwen gave him approximately five minutes to catch his breath before she yanked him into the dancing bodies. He was even harder to keep up with than her brother, his bulky movements hardly graceful or trained. But Arwen kept up with him and laughed nearly the entire time.
Once they had both reached their end, well after Mor and Rhysand returned from a single dance, Arwen was limping. "You alright?" Rhysand questioned, gesturing downwards with his brows. They sat against a stone ledge that hosted the perimeter of a risen garden bed.
"Stepped on my foot," she said, jutting her thumb to the general, albeit a grin made any other sign of pain disappear. "Don't worry, I got my heel in his toe." Arwen sat down next to Rhysand and peeled off her shoes. Redness at her heal signalled the beginning of a blister, and a bruise was already forming just under the bone in the middle of her foot.
"Didn't feel a thing," Cassian sang as he sat between Mor and Rhysand's other side. Arwen grinned wider as she caught sight of him turning his head to Mor, mouthing words of pain.
With a loud sigh, she leant against Rhysand's shoulder, a round of exhaustion looming in the corners of her mind. She didn't want the night to be over, but there was only so much dancing one could do. And there was still more of the festival to see.
"I'm going to make this an annual event," he said to her as the other pair went off in their own conversation. "We don't have to come each year, but I liked the idea of the Festival of the Rainbow and seeing how much you love being down here, I thought your birthday would be a perfect date to mark the occasion. The people are enjoying themselves as much as you are."
"I'm not sure I'll get the energy back by next year." She laughed through a pant. "But this is... This is amazing. Thank you, Rhys. Really. I..." Arwen had no words left but he was satisfied with her breathlessness and squeezed her knee. "Can we go flying tonight?"
He opened his mouth and she sensed a refusal moving to his tongue, but he stopped and looked down at her hand where the moonstone ring sat. "I suppose we can now. Any destination in mind?"
"The mountains." Somewhat vague, but she longed for the sweeping rocks beside her and the white clouds settled in their heights. Rhysand nodded and stopped drinking his wine, murmuring something about not flying drunk. Arwen laughed and tapped the rough part of her heels lightly against the stone ledge underneath her as they watched the festival continue around them.
A sea of people parted at the end of a song, their shoulders slouching, and laughs bubbled from their stomachs that they held. Behind them, Arwen saw a shadow. She sat forward, watching as the shadow eyed the multitudes of people around it, stoically moving around them.
The shadow was dressed in Illyrian leathers, all seven azure siphons on display. With his tanned, chiselled face and black hair sweeping across his forehead, he looked like one of the artworks on display that had somehow been enchanted to move.
Arwen slid from the ledge, not saying anything to the others and kept her eyes set on Azriel as they headed toward each other. In his hand was a small box, no more than an inch deep, but wide and flat. He had come after all.
They met just off the dance floor as fresh fae joined for a new song. He stood before her, his chest rising high but silent.
"You're here."
Finally, a crack on the otherwise stone face. "I said I wouldn't miss it."
Arwen's own chest rose in an urgent need for more air. Slowly, she turned her upper body to look back over her shoulder. Rhysand sat still, watching them with a lifted chin. Cassian and Mor were still talking, but their eyes flickered in the pair's direction every few seconds.
"I wasn't sure I'd be welcomed," Azriel continued as she turned back, eyes returning from where he too observed their reactions.
"They don't get a say on my birthday."
"It wasn't just them I was worried about."
There were no signs of the fight she heard that he went through with Rhysand, but it had been a month and with Illyrian healing, many of the bruises would have left within two days. "You're family. Fights or no fights, this is your home."
A tongue swept over his bottom lip, followed by a slight shift of his weight on his booted feet. "Can we talk about things? So, I can explain... why I said what I did?"
Arwen bit the inside of her cheek as she shook her head. "No," she whispered, surprised she was heard over the music which had all but seemed to drown out around them. Azriel swallowed, head angling off to the side. "No, Az. I spent so much time wondering why you had said them and now I don't want to know. If it's something I don't want to hear, then I might spend the next few years wondering again."
After she finished, he placidly nodded. Then, seeming to suddenly remember the shallow box in his hand, snapped it up towards her. "For you," he added if it weren't obvious enough.
Taking the box, Arwen peeled away the crimson ribbon tied around it, the bow near perfect that it was a shame to dismantle it. Lifting the lid, her lips upturned as she marvelled at the gift inside.
It was a circlet. Quite the opposite of her other, which was a band of gold with a pointed apex that sat low on her brow. This one was silver, and the bands were thinner, bent around each other like loose whorls.
"I know you like the other one, but you save it for more formal occasions. I thought you would like one that you could wear whenever you pleased. I took a risk with the silver, but you've been wearing more of it lately and..."
He kept talking but Arwen's attention drifted to the shallow, downturned peak. A jewel hung, no larger than her nailbeds but it wasn't the shape or cut that drew her attention. She lifted it with the pad of her finger to catch the light more and confirmed the shade.
"... I spent a good part of the past month finding it," his voice tuned back in. "Amethyst, but it was difficult to find the right one."
Her eyes. It was the exact shade of her eyes. Not that Arwen was so self-obsessed that she would know that straight away without comparing it in a mirror, but looking into Rhysand's every day, she knew the colour anywhere.
Azriel didn't make a sound as she enveloped him in her arms. Still barefoot, Arwen was on her toes to meet his towering height and perch her chin over his shoulder. His arms soon followed and her eyes squeezed together as they tightened around her waist.
But she refused to hold it for long, and dropped back onto her feet.
Something had lifted off Azriel's face, and she knew that her acceptance of his gift must have been weighing on him, deciding whether he should come tonight or not.
"Will you dance with me?"
Arwen's forehead tightened in response. She looked towards the dancing circle, then down to the circlet she placed back in its box. "Yes." Swivelling around, she trotted back to Rhysand and held the box towards him. "Safe keep this."
He took it. "Is everything alright?"
Arwen nodded, not in the mind to answer with more than that, and turned back to Azriel.
Rhysand watched as she went back to the spymaster who took her arm and they migrated onto the plaza floor. At Cassian's nudge, he noticed the general's curious gesturing towards the box and opened it. Rhysand didn't take the circlet from where it sat but thumbed the jewel. He looked back to Cassian, wondering what he was thinking.
"Females and their jewels," is all he said, keeping the true thoughts hidden.
Mor tipped her head and made a pointed tap on his thigh where an intricately carved knife sat in its sheath. One that he carried everywhere, even in his unusually formal attire for the night. "Males and their weapons," she drawled back.
"That's different. This is for protection."
Mor threw her weight back on a single palm, the other holding a new glass of wine. "Yes, the people in Velaris are so dangerous."
Cassian grumbled something about always being prepared but didn't bother with bickering on that particular argument.
The box in Rhysand's hand disappeared as he sent it with magic to her room. Turning his eyes back to the crowd, he sought the dancing pair out again. Arwen was smiling, barely keeping up with the fast tune and Azriel's surprisingly skilled grace. Mor had joined too, with a handsome High Fae requesting her hand.
"You look like you're using every last piece of patience to not go over there and tear them apart." Cassian plucked a small desert off a passing tray as he said it, the fae breaking Rhysand's stare at the same time.
"I'm not," he answered honestly. That urge died the moment he saw her smiling at him. "I'm just glad she's happy. She is, isn't she?" he asked after another moment of pause, now frowning at the dancing couple. It was hard to be sure, especially after their slow day. Arwen was getting better at faking.
"Can't remember a time when she's looked happier than she is tonight," Cassian replied. "You did fine, brother. I'd say too well. You've set a bar that you've got to keep for next year. And many more after that."
"Fortunately, I have the wealth of a High Lord," he crooned. "Except my vaults might dry up if I have to keep repaying for entire buildings that members of my court decide to destroy."
Cassian held up a single palm. "That building had it coming." Rhysand chuckled and crossed his arms. "Did you manage to convince them to lift my ban yet?"
"I didn't even bother trying," Rhysand admitted, the pair falling into a pit of deep laughter. When it simmered, the High Lord bent forward, forearms crossed over his thighs. "Do you remember when she was like this every day?"
Cassian pursed his lips and gaze along the dancers. "You need to stop doing this to yourself. Arwen couldn't have a better life given the circumstances of what has happened. She knows that. Don't burden yourself."
"She had most of her world torn from her, Cass." He straightened again, seeking out a new drink despite his earlier desire for sobriety. "I'm just trying to give it back to her."
He downed a generous sip before a large weight clasped on his shoulder and shook for his attention. Cassian leant close, looking him dead in the eye. "Coming from probably the only person other than you she tells everything to, you are her world, Rhys."
Arwen's eyes grazed everywhere. From her feet, to the path ahead, to the dancing bodies around. Anything to not look directly at his face, yet she couldn't pull herself away. The 'yes' had been instinctive, a chance to be close with her mate, but in hindsight it would have been better to retire back to the rest of her family and see more of the festival.
His hands were stone on her waist, keeping her pace and position in check even when she barely registered her own body moving.
"Do you think your brother still wants to cut off my wings?" Azriel questioned a smirk hinting in the corner of his lips as she finally looked to him. "Or my... other parts?"
Arwen bit her lip, failing to contain a smile. "Which one would hurt your pride more?"
"The second."
Their laughter matched. It took a moment of afterthought to put together his reasoning. Azriel hated his Illyrian heritageâhated what it made him, and what Illyrian culture and people have done to him. "I want you to know that I didn't tell him so he would hurt you. Really, I didn't tell him at all," she added bitterly. "I've never wanted anything to come between the three of you, especially not coming from me. Some days I forget that you three have been brothers longer than I have been born."
"And I never wanted to come between you and Rhys." Arwen tilted her head, unsure of the implication of how he would do such a thing. Azriel's hazelsâwhich were a shade closer to gold than Cassian's wereâshot over her shoulder as they spun. "If he...disapproved with the mating bond, had we chosen to go through with it."
"He disapproves of his family being unhappy," she pointed out and reset her lips into the practised smile. "Which we are not, so there is nothing for us to worry ourselves over. Our High Lord has enough on his plate that he doesn't need to deal with turmoil inside his own court."
Azriel showed his agreeance with a trained smile.
Arwen and Azriel lasted two dances before she was too tired to keep up, swaying as they stopped. She placed her palm to her forehead, closing her eyes to let the sensation fade.
"Are you alright?"
She nodded, then regretted it. "Danced too much. Or drank. Probably both." Though it was at the bottom of her pool of desires, she might have to decline her flight with Rhysand if it didn't ebb away.
A hand on her back led them both to the stone ledge.
"You're walking side to side, princess," Cassian jeered. She didn't listen to him and pushed her hands into the ledge to take the weight off her feet. "Need a bucket?"
Arwen lifted her head which was pre-set into a pale glare but couldn't find the energy to hold it for long. Rhysand reached for her arm, but she leant back into Azriel instead, his body taking her leaning weight. He steadied her with a warm hand on her hip.
"You don't look good," Cassian continued.
"I don't feel the best," she admitted. Arwen placed a hand on her stomach, but she didn't feel sick. Not the vomiting or the feverish type. In fact, the last time she had felt this way was...
"The ring is working," Amren said, appearing from nothing. "This is what happened last time when the magic surfaced but didn't release."
"Last time she was like this," Rhysand growled, "she fell out of my arms when we were flying hundreds of feet in the air."
"Because it released eventually," Amren crooned. "It was still learning how to. The ring is preventing that but containing magic comes at a cost to the user. It'll pass."
Arwen searched with her hands for the ledge and sat down, holding her head in her hands. The familiar presence of her brother's daemati powers touched her mind, seeking permission to enter. She opened the gates and let him prod around as he pleased, easing the part of her that consciously acknowledged the sensation.
"I still want to go flying," she declared, earning a soft chuckle and her brother's promise.