Chapter 89
Arwen had made a promise to herself to never let go of him again. She took it quite literally, as even by the next morning she had not once left Azriel's side, constantly brushing up against him, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt, following him around all night and morning. None were grand gesturesânot wild declarations or extravagant displays. But to Arwen, just being able to hold him when she wanted was everything. It was her grounding.
It was hard to tell what he thought of her sudden attachment. She knew that he wasn't one to revel in those types of displays, but whenever she examined his face to check that she hadn't pressed a boundary, he only smiled at her and kissed her head.
They migrated to the garden, letting Feyre and Elain have the house to themselves for an hour or so since the older Archeron sister had become reclusive in the presence of so many in recent days. Arwen let her bare feet graze against the stone path as they sat on a bench in the midst of the blossoming spring life. With a twisted spine, she hooked her arm over the wooden back of the bench to gaze upon the bluebells behind them, content in the silence of birdsong and with the warmth of the sun on her exposed back.
Azriel's finger hooked around the low and wide v-cut back of the white chiffon dress she had chosen. He traced its outline, down to the low of her spine and back up the other side. Reaching out, Arwen gently touched a hanging bluebell, lifting the petals to absorb all its fine details.
His fingers traced over the ridges of her scars that marred her back. Stiffening, she let the bluebell drop and silently looked at her mate, a plea in her eyes for his touch to move on.
He carefully observed her back, then, after a moment, gave her his hand. "I'm just the same, remember." The skin on his hand was rippled and discoloured, just as hers was. "I think no differently of you for yours."
"It just... Reminds me of what is not there," she whispered. "That other people can see it and know it happened."
He curled a strand of her raven hair around her ear. "Do you care what they think?"
Arwen went back to the bluebell, snapping the flower from its stem. A greedy theft, but a sacrifice she was sure the plant wouldn't mind if she took no more. Returning to a proper seat, she tucked the bluebell over his ear, between the loose black waves of his hair. She almost wished he had his seven siphons rather than just the two on his hands as the colour would complement beautifully. "If I was nobody, then perhaps not," she answered. "But I'm somebody. I'm Rhysand's sister, the sister of a High Lord. The one who died and came back over two hundred years later. I'm a representative of this court. I'm a half-breed that doesn't have a full place amongst either line of blood. I'm your mate. When people see me, that is also what they see."
Azriel pinched her chin. "They will not see weakness when they look at you."
She let the conversation trickle from there, unwilling to venture deeper into those thoughts when her mind was still in shambles. Sleep hadn't come easy the night before, despite having his company with her. "Rhys is giving me the town house."
"I heard. Are you going to redecorate?"
Arwen shook her head. "A few changes in art maybe, but it's always been like this. I like it how it is."
He hummed in agreement. "Rhys actually mentioned the idea of buying you an estate somewhere nearby instead but he thought you would like the familiarity of this place more."
"I wouldn't have to start a garden from scratch either," she added, smiling at the blossoms. "I'm going to let Elain stay here, if that's what she wants." Azriel looked at her in surprise. Arwen swatted his thigh. "I do not hate the girl. I think she'll want to go somewhere else anyway when Feyre permanently moves out. Perhaps up at the House of Wind or with Nesta."
Smiling, he lightly flicked her cheek. "You know you're going to have to set hard boundaries with Cass. Tell him he doesn't have to knock once, he'll take that as an invitation for the rest of his life."
Shrugging, she said, "I wouldn't mind. I like having company."
"Yes butâ" Azriel shifted himself deeper into the bench, speaking lower and closer into her earâ "I have been given plenty of time to imagine what I would do with you once we are alone. I'm not keen on the idea of him interrupting that. Unless that is what you want. Then I'm open to suggestions."
She couldn't immediately respondâfor many reasons. The idea of those thoughts swirling around Azriel's head of her, had her legs weak. Arwen could barely breathe at the proposition of adding Cassian to that mix. "You wouldn't be jealous?" she had to ask, her curiosity piquing, considering she knew now how much her closeness to the general had affected him. It wasn't something she could regret on account of knowing how safe he made her feel, enough to be in the place she was today, but she could regret not being able to offer the same channel with Azriel.
He kissed her ear where his still hovered, then lightly scraped his teeth from the tip down to her lobe. "I want you to myself for a while first. But no, I wouldn't be. Not if I'm there watching. Not if fucking you at the same time."
She had to turn her head away to hide the raging blush in the fear that her breakfast might come back up with how hard her stomach suddenly dropped.
Azriel laughed and guided her face back. "I enjoy making you blush. Just as I will enjoy..." Arwen's eyes rounded as he whispered his next words into her ear and instead of a single flame burning in her cheeks, they became a whole forest fire. She crossed her legs.
Their private conversation was interrupted by Feyre at the back entrance of the town house. Wiping her palms across her cheeks and then wiping the sweat from them on her legs, Arwen hurried her way inside. She was still stumbling slightly as his words echoed in her headâimages of what might be to come in their future when she saw who had come down.
"C-Cassian," she breathed. Arwen had to drag her eyes away from him. "Mor."
Like Azriel and Feyre, they too were wearing simple clothes, no leather or expensive fabrics in sight. Arwen froze in the hall, not sure what to make of their presence.
Cassian grinned, arms beginning to open as he moved forward but Mor flung herself around him, enveloping Arwen. She sunk into the embrace. It made her remember. Remember that if she had chosen differently, there might have never been another embrace to have.
"I'm so happy that you're okay." Mor pulled back, placing her hands on Arwen's cheeks. "You have so much colour again."
Arwen gave a strained smile as Azriel's hand gently rested on her back.
Cassian elbowed Mor out of the way. "Yeah, yeah. I saw her first." His grin cut from Mor to Arwen, sweeping her into his arms. "I've got you, sweetheart."
Arwen let him, even giving a small laugh as he bundled her to him. She knew Cassian enough to know that he hadn't wanted that day to go as it did. She knew that. She had heard his voice, his command for it all to stop. But the memory of that feelingâthat sensation of being trapped, of the corner they forced her intoâflushed through her body.
And Cassian knew. He knew about everything. Arwen could tell from the way he held her, the security of it even through the gentleness, that it was for more than just her recovery. She wiped at her cheeks again after they pulled away, tucking back in on herself, Azriel pressed against her back.
Cassian frowned. "Should you be out of bed already?"
"I'm fine," she assured him, though the weakness in her voice betrayed her. "I wanted to sit in the garden for a while."
The frown lingered and he tilted his head. "Are we alright?"
Arwen gave a series of rapid blinks as she pulled the fabric of her dress straight. "Of course," she whispered. Cassian continued to frown at her, then over her head to where she knew Azriel stood. "Can we sit down?" As Helion said, it was magic, not a miracle. She was still malnourished and weak. Even standing for long was taxing.
They migrated to the sitting room, Arwen quickly curling against the arm of the lounge where her throw rug was waiting for her. Azriel left before joining them, passing her a muffin on his return. She picked eagerly at it.
"Where's Rhys?" Azriel inquired as he sat by her feet. Arwen silently listened.
Mor and Cassian shared a brief look. "Doesn't want to crowd the house either," Mor said and sent an assuring smile to Arwen. "He'll come down later with Amren."
Arwen nodded.
"I was wondering if we could talk about what you said." Azriel leant his elbows onto his knees, a wrinkle forming over the top of his nose bridge. "You said you could see some things."
The energy in the town house subsided. Arwen could have almost forgotten that he heard her. Azriel wouldn't understand yet and she didn't know to what extent the others did either. "I would rather wait till Rhys come by," she told them.
"You heard me though, right?" Cassian asked, folding his arms loosely across his chest, sitting in the armchair adjacent to her. "We never forgot you." Arwen wasn't going to argue anything so she nodded again. He sighed lightly. "Feel like you made the right choice?"
"I do," she confessed softly. "I was dead longer than I was alive. I'd like to make up those years."
Cassian smiled gently back. Their conversation kept light and safe, Mor bringing up the nearing celebration of Starfall. Arwen proclaimed her intention to continue her tradition and hunt down a new dress for the occasion. "Care to come along?" she asked the general. Groaning, Cassian threw his head back against the chair. But the grin was as plain as day. Arwen tilted her head to Azriel. "I would have let him say no."
"A general can't say no to the princess," Azriel quipped back, earning a snort from her. Gods, she still hated that nickname.
Arwen left for the kitchen for a glass of cooled water, not unaware of the footsteps trailing behind her. Cassian braced his forearms against the bench next to her as she set her eyes on the garden beyond the window that lit the kitchen.
"I wish you told me."
Arwen sighed. "I don't want to talk about this more than I have to."
"Why didn't you?"
She sighed again and looked over her shoulder. She put up a shield around the kitchen, keeping their voices contained. As her head fell forward, Cassian laid his hand over her wrist, thumbing the thick scarring. Arwen glared at the gesture. "I... Wanted to forget. Didn't want you to know. I was angry and wanted to continue being angry."
"If you had told me..."
"You would have what?" She shrugged. "Turned back time?"
"I would have known," Cassian interjected firmly. "I could have helped you better. Could have talked to you about it. You were there with us the whole timeâ" Arwen hissed even though she knew it couldn't be heard by Azriel, but he kept speaking "âand how am I supposed to feel about that? That I went about my life for so long while you were forced to watch as nothing but a shadow. Not even a shadow we could see. That you were Under the Mountain."
Her eyes stung like she had just wiped them with chilli on her hands.
"That is not something you keep to yourself, Arwen," he pressed at her lack of reactivity. "That is not something I want to go about my day oblivious to."
In a moment of self-pity, for the corner he had her in, she said, "It's all about you, is it?" Her little paradise with Azriel had gone. And soon so would his own obliviousness to it all.
Cassian's grip tightened on her wrist and tugged on it, angling her body open to him, away from the counter. "Hey," he growled. "I'm trying to have you understand how much I care. That what happens to you, affects me too. Affects us all. You didn't tell me and that makes me feel like I didn't do enough. That I was an idiot for not putting it together. Nobody knows what you went through there except Rhys and he's..." He cut himself short, stopping himself from informing Arwen about her brother's state.
She wanted to tell him Cassian did plenty. Enough. More than enough. But she feared opening her mouth to say that would just open every thought that currently crammed its way into her head. Instead, she peeled her hand away from him, holding it to her stomach. Giving him one last glimpse, Arwen headed out of the kitchen and back into the sitting room, sinking into the spot next to Azriel, pulling the throw rug over her like a blanket.
Cassian returned from the kitchen with a glass of amber liquid. Azriel, sensing her distress even in her muteness, tucked her under his arm and diverted the conversation away from her, letting her lean against him. Arwen looked away from her family, towards the window, their voices little more than a distant echo. After a while she closed her eyes, Azriel's fingers wending through her hair where she had tucked her head under his neck.
She must have let herself relax so much because he said, "I think you should go. Arwen's asleep and I don't want to wake her."
The material of the armchair ruffled. "Already getting in the habit of kicking us out?" Cassian goaded, but Azriel didn't meet the challenge of the taunt. He added, quieter, "Tell us if anything changes. If you need anything."
"We can take Elain up to the House if you need more space," Mor added. "I think Feyre's coming up for the next few days too."
"If Elain doesn't mind," Azriel said.
Arwen barely registered the front door clicking closed. A cold finger hooked under her chin lifted it. Lashes peeling apart, she dazedly looked up at her mate, distantly realising he knew she hadn't been sleeping.
"Would you like me to take you to your room?" he asked softly. Arwen closed her eyes again, shaking her head and dropping it back onto his shoulder. Kissing her head, he tightened the throw rug around her shoulders.
Just mainly some cute fluff cause we all need it. As for a forecast on the remaining parts of the story, there will be slight showers amidst some bright and sunny days, and one snowstorm coming in from the east.
P.S I re-wrote some stuff last minute here so my bad if there's anything odd/out-of-order. It is currently midnight and I binged Sims for six hours so I am Tired.