Chapter 41
Rhysand chuckled behind the mug of his tea at the sight before him. Arwen was perched on the main lounge, knees brought right to her chest as she sat next to a fervent Cassian. Amren and Mor had stolen the loveseat, their conversation unwelcoming to the rest of them, which left him and Azriel to each take the remaining armchairs.
His general had lost that morning's snowbattle, though lost was quite a generous term on his part. Annihilated seemed more fitting. Rhysand hadn't won eitherâa fact he was still bitter aboutâbut kept that annoyance to himself. Cassian, however, had been spending the past half hour avidly detailing to Arwen why he should have been the one to come out victorious. To her credit, she seemed quite enthralled by what he had to say and Rhysand could almost believe that Cassian was getting to her. But a quick brush of her mind proved the opposite.
When her eyes did drift away from the warrior, it was only because Azriel silently rose from his seat and left the room. He returned a minute later with a filled wine glass. Passing by the back of the lounge, Azriel continued his silence as he handed it down to her. Arwen bit her lip as she smiled and murmured a thank you, letting one leg fall to make room to hold it to her chest. Cassian didn't falter in his blabbering.
"It's quite early for wine," Rhysand noted as his spymaster returned to the adjacent armchair.
"It's too early to listen to Cassian gripe for so long without one," he drawled back, the remark quipping Rhysand with a smirk and Azriel pressed his lips into a low smile. Azriel remained watching the exchange with an eased expression that Rhysand had never seen on his face before recently.
He was going to mention so until Mor's voice cut through the room. "Are we going to give out the presents yet? The curiosity is starting to hurt."
Arwen's sharp intake could be heard by them all. Her eyes sliced across the room to Rhysand, wide and round. It threw him back through his memories of the same look that came on every Winter Solstice, right down to the first years as a babe when she finally started to understand what presents meant for her. Rhysand gave a small nod in confirmation, though he hardly deemed it necessary. But Arwen took the confirmation with a squeal and abandoned her position on the lounge, trotting towards the pile of presents stacked on the table behind them. Rhysand smiled.
"I wasn't finished!" Cassian bellowed, turning onto his knees and gripping the back of the lounge to beckon her back.
Arwen stopped in her endeavour and strode up to the back of a lounge with a pout of sympathy. She wound her arms around the general's neck and squeezed. Rhysand's brow lifted at the exchange until she said leant back and said, "Cass, you lost and you lost hard. There is no saving this great humiliation." She held his face between her hands, pecked the tip of his nose and then darted back to the pile of presents, leaving Cassian agape. Azriel snorted behind his hand and Rhysand barely smothered his own smile when Cassian looked towards them.
Arwen returned with her arms full, the presents wrapped with varying degrees of precision. She handed the first to Cassian who took it with only a mumble of thanks. Rhysand placed his mug to the side and leant forward as his came, seeing the label that marked it from Amren. She always had interesting gifts to give.
"I knew you'd like those."
Rhysand looked up to his sister, then across the room to where she was watching Amren. Amren held up her hand and decorating each finger were talons of bejewelled gold that sat like rings on each knuckle. The female's wide grin was unnerving as she looked at her hand like she had just found her heart's desire.
"Watch your throats," Mor muttered as she tore apart her gift's wrappings. Amren only flicked her a smirk and settled into the lounge, admiring them still.
Rhysand's gift from Amren was a flask. Black leather covered most of the metal, but it had been cut in places to reveal silver whorls. "Making day drinking classy," he noted with a motion of a toast.
Arwen sent around another round of gifts and Rhysand kept a particular eye on her this time, seeing his gift for her in her arms. Before she opened it, he glimpsed at Azriel who seemed taken with his own. In his spymaster's hand were two slips of paper. "What is it?"
Instead of answering, Azriel handed him the slips. He read over them. Two tickets to a riverboat that went along the Sidra as a ferry during the main hours, but after dark, they opened a small restaurant and slowed their sailing. Rhysand handed them back. "It's a nice coincidence that you have a mate that loves the Sidra," he said.
Azriel huffed in a quiet show of amusement. "Thank you, Mor," he called out. Mor smiled and nodded back.
"Rhys..." At his sister's uncertain call, his attention left everything else. Arwen held his gift in her handsâa small, black sphere with a flat bottom. She twisted her lips and pinched her brows in a way that made him chuckle. "I don't know what this is."
Rhysand waved a hand and the room suddenly become shrouded in darkness that made Cassian, who was still unravelling in his gift, moan. "Tap the top of it," he told her. A second later, silver light cut through the darkness. Eyes shot to the ceiling where one could mistake that they had no roof. And that it was night time. Stars hovered above them, or the illusion of them. Even he still marvelled at the enchantment, as each one looked as real as the real ones that watched over them. "It's enchanted to replicate the constellations above it."
He waved his hand again, and the darkness shrank back into the shadows. Arwen remained looking up at the now empty ceiling. Rhysand tightened his lips into a smile and watched as she finally pulled her eyes back down. She said nothing as she took the black globe from her lap and placed it on the lounge-side table, but then thoughts twice and kept it in her lap.
Her forgetfulness to tell him thank you, enraptured by what was before her, was better than the words being said. That being said, it took time before she pulled herself away to deliver the next round of gifts. When she skipped over him, Rhysand kept his mouth shut but leant back in the armchair with mild bewilderment. But Arwen made a gesture to be patient and returned to the pile. On her return, he understood why.
She held something narrow but wide that required both hands. Arwen stopped in front of him and placed it at her feet. "It's not..." She sighed and he leant forward, patient to receive whatever it was. "I was going to get you something else, but I didn't know what to get you for your birthday, so I gave you what I had planned for today and... Here."
"Thank you," he said with a pointed look that told her to stop worrying and muttering. She left and sank back down into her seat before he could open it. Rhysand knew from the moment he took it that it was a canvas, so he took care in his grip. He pulled away the wrapping, expecting to see the splash of paint beneath but at the sight of the palette of blacks and greys, he realised that this was something by her hand and her hand alone. He leant back to view the thing in its entirety.
A sketchâno. It was far more detailed than a sketch. In the background, the Sidra slowly lapped, ships sailing to and from the harbour. The city on the far side of the water stretched along the canvas, each house with its own given attention. He could even see the town house. But the main focus of the drawing were the five forms. Each one sat along the lowered stone barrier at the edge of the riverâtalking, laughing. Rhysand couldn't think of the day this could have been. It was such a simple, yet beautiful, memory that it blurred with twenty others. He took in each one; Mor, Amren, Cassian, Azriel, himself. Though there wasn't any colour on the paper canvas, the way it had been masterfully shaded put the colour in his mind.
Rhysand grinned at it and lay it down across his lap, looking across the room to his sister. But her attention had fully turned to Cassian who held a small box. Cassian threw his arm across her shoulders and drew her into his side, placing a hard kiss on her hair. He said something to her which made Arwen smile and nod then point to the box. Rhysand placed the drawing down to rest against the side of the armchair and decided to thank her later.
"Of course she didn't."
Rhysand tore his gaze away from them to ask his spymaster, "What's that?"
Azriel gestured down to the drawing. "She never draws herself, have you noticed?"
Rhysand frowned and picked it back up, looking over it once more. He hadn't noticed it the first time, captured by so many details at once. But Azriel was right. He'd talk to her later about it.
More rounds of presents passed, and the pile finally began to evaporate. Azriel kept his smile low and even as Arwen unwrapped his gift to her. A jewellery box, enchanted to play music from the Rainbow whenever she opened it. Cassian almost broke it in the first few seconds he held it to investigate which sent her into a snappy mood until she saw Azriel with her gift to him.
"It's a two-way diary," she told Azriel as he unwrapped hers. He held a leather book and a flick through it revealed the empty lines inside. "I have the other. Whatever you write, I'll be able to see, and I can write back."
Azriel murmured his gratitude and kept the diary in his lap for the rest of the morning.
They moved as they pleased in the coming hours. Arwen planted herself at the table, grazing at the bowls of snacking foods. Rhysand meandered towards her. He leant against the back of the chair and placed the drawing in her lap and spoke into her ear. "I love this, Arwen, I truly do. But I have a little issue that means I can't hang it up."
She tensed below him. "What is it?" she asked meekly.
"It's not finished," he told her. At her blankness, staring at her own drawing he added, "You're not in it."
Arwen gave a tired huff and tipped her head back against his shoulder. "I'm... There," she said, pointing to the air beside it. "I'm not going to spend hours drawing myself."
"That's too bad, because I won't accept it until you do." He released any hold he had on the canvas and took a step away. "Arwen," he breathed, "you didn't get me anything for Winter Solstice." Arwen glared over her shoulder at him, the drawing still in her lap. Rhysand laughed and turned around, heading back to the kitchen in search of more wine. Inside, Azriel was already on the hunt for the same thing. "Which one are you looking for?"
Azriel frowned and continued looking. "That one we had at Starfall. It was red andâ" Rhysand pulled the bottle from the rack and handed it to him. He peered down and took it. "And it was that one."
"I'll warn you now not to drink it all. Mor has a love for it too and if she finds an empty bottle before she's had any..."
"I'll keep my balls protected," the spymaster finished.
Rhysand winked at him and moved around to find his own source of delight. They both filled their glasses, but he leant against the counter rather than heading back into the heart of the cabin. "Az," he called. Azriel left his attempt to leave and wandered back to Rhysand's side. "Did Arwen come to see you last night?"
The way he froze and paled almost had Rhysand laughing. "She did," finally came the hesitant answer, albeit he didn't need one after that reaction.
But laughter wasn't on the High Lord's mind. "Did she say anything to you that..." He sighed and thought of the best way to ask such a thing. "Anything that would make you worry?"
Azriel narrowed his eyes as they drifted away in thought. "No," he said. Rhysand wasn't sure if he felt relief or more dread. "She was tired, so we didn't talk very long. Why? Has she said something to you?"
He shook his head and shrugged but a second glance at Azriel revealed a blossoming fear. "It's not about you."
"But something's wrong," Azriel countered. "How do you know it's not about me?"
Rhysand sighed. "Because I've had this feeling for longer than you two have been different."
"Feeling?" Azriel paused. "What is this feeling telling you?" he inquired slowly.
He fingered the rim of his glass and debated the extent of his answer. "Just keep an eye on her," he said. "That's what it's telling me so I'm asking you to do the same thing. She's learnt to be a good actor. She'll tell us some things so we think she's opening up to us but won't tell us the rest. And I need to know what it is that she isn't telling me."
Azriel nodded obediently. Rhysand felt a shot of guilt for placing that worry on him. He felt enough fear over the matter as her brother, but as her mate, it would drive Azriel crazy to know something was wrong and be unable to deal with it. But that drive might be what Rhysand needed to get the answer out of her.
He waited a few more minutes to regain his composure before venturing into the main sitting area. Azriel had already fallen to Arwen's side, standing next to her as she remained perched on the dining chair.
Their voices lowered with the sun. Rhysand retook his armchair, a mug of tea replacing the wine he had been drowning himself in prior. Amren had already retired to bed. Mor sat on the loveseat, Arwen leant against her and from the looks of it, fast asleep. Cassian and Azriel took the main lounge.
Mor rested her head against Arwen's, holding her cousin's hand in her lap. But she winced at shifted in her seat. Rhysand began to push from his seat to take his sister, but Azriel, closer and quicker, swept in before him. Azriel knelt before the loveseat and held Arwen's weight as Mor slipped away, then took the position as his own. Arwen slumped into him, completely unaware of the change. Azriel bundled her into his arms, eyeing the room around him as though searching for anything that needed correction. His shadows, although they were always present, now actively swathed him like a cloud, almost enveloping Arwen away from view.
In the mood for taunts and teases, Rhysand said, "It's only us, Az."
The mood must have been infectious as Azriel gave a low smile. "Amren might be sneaking under our noses right this second with her new talons."