Chapter 96
Starfall was here. And she still didn't have a dress to wear. Arwen tried not to think of it which ultimately wasn't that difficult. It had been many years since that tradition had taken place and grappling for its return was a weak attempt at resetting her life where it did not need to be reset.
Still, it stung a little.
Arwen grinned and laughed with Mor as they ate breakfast in the sun-lit dining room. Nesta was the only one who hadn't joined. "I may not have my muscle back yet, but my bones are certainly as strong as they should be," she sang, stabbing a cut of orange and plopping it on her tongue as she recounted her early morning training session with Cassian. It was their secondâboth taken slow and focused on regaining full mobility and testing her returning strength. Arwen had given a sharp jab between his legs with her knee to prove a point. He hadn't been expecting it.
"No wonder he's been pouting all morning," Mor said, sipping her goblet. Both females glanced across the table to the spoken-of warrior. He was talking blithely with Elain but at the weight of their gazes, sought them out. Hazels narrowed into glares before he turned back to his significantly smaller companion, ignoring them completely. They snickered. Mor laid her hand on Arwen's. "I have missed you. Missed this. I'm glad that you decided to remain."
Arwen smiled and sipped at her juice. Underneath the table, to her other side, she rested her hand on Azriel's leg. A reason to stay, she reminded herself. Looking across the table, she spied on Feyre and Rhysand. How simple the moment was; two mates talking over breakfast with their family. She could see it on both their faces how happy they were.
Rhysand and Arwen had spent the night on the rooftop of the House of Wind. They talked. Talked about things Under the Mountain that they wouldn't share with anybody elseânot even Feyre or Azriel. Arwen spoke of the day that he had been whipped. The Attor's lashes had been so horrific that his entire back had turned to a canvas of dark blood. She couldn't even make out one wound from another. After his suffering, Amarantha had healed him. Not a scar left to be seen. Scars left stories. Stories that perhaps Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, was not so contently warming her bed as it seemed. Arwen had stood in front of him, but each time the whip just went through her. Still, she felt his pain as if it were her own.
Rhysand spoke of the day that he had to kill one of Azriel's spies. A High Fae that lived in Hewn City but had become trapped Under the Mountain. The male was loyal to them, had even helped prevent an uprising decades ago against Rhys and worked with the wraiths Under the Mountain for him. But he was a risk to Rhysand when Amarantha's attention drew to close. Rhysand wished he had just wiped the male's mind, but in a moment of panic, crushed it instead.
After breakfast, Arwen returned to her room. Upon her bed was a white box, the length and width of her arm. Frowning in caution, Arwen inched towards it and knocked the lid off.
The dress. The dress that looked like a thousand stars had been woven into it, silver and glittering. Hooking her fingers around the thin straps, she lifted it from the box to let the material fall to the floor. The back had a mesh fabric sewn in that would make it melt with her skin. It was hers. It was her Starfall dress. She bit her lip in an attempt to hold her grin but it was impossible. Carefully laying the fabric out along her bed in preparation to change into it come nightfall, Arwen left her room.
In and out of halls and chambers she weaved in search of him. It wasn't until reaching the grand entrance with the open pavilion, did she see Cassian talking with Rhysand. Not caring that she would be interrupting their conversation, Arwen darted toward him, flinging her arms around his neck.
He laughed and caught her, knowing exactly what the gesture was for. "I thought you might want it," he said once her feet were steady on the ground again. "I don't know how you're going to wear it all night. That thing is bloody heavy."
It had tested her muscles, but she would live. "Thank you."
"Cassian was just telling me how strong you're getting," said Rhysand. Arwen smiled and nodded, standing between them. "I wanted to know if I could do something."
"Do what?"
Rhysand grinned and before she could question it, she was enveloped by his arms from behind. Arwen squealed as they tightened like two snakes, squeezing the air out of her lungs, arms trapped under his. She laughed as he bent forward, then side to side, shaking and tossing her like a ragdoll.
She whimpered.
Rhysand immediately stopped and loosened his arms. He searched her face for the pain he had just heard.
Arwen grinned. "You are so gullible." She turned herself around and hooked her arm around his neck, dragging his head down to her height. They wrestled, battling for control, a mess of tangled limbs. By the time they were done, they were both panting and laughing wildly. His tunic was wrinkled and his hair a mess. She was certain she was in the same state. "You've grown weak, brother!"
He rolled his eyes. "I was going easy on you."
"I don't believe it," she sang, pounding the side of her fist against his chest. He winced with a mocking look of hurt and rubbed the area. Arwen gathered her breath. "I was wondering if you could take me to the vault?"
His brows raised. "The vault? You know you can pass through the wards without my permission. What's in there is yours too."
She smirked. "I was actually asking for your company, not your permission." Cassian snorted. "I have a beautiful dress for tonight and the jewels that I have out don't do it justice."
Rhysand rolled his eyes but smiled. "I think I can spare a part of my day for the venture. I'll bring Feyre along too. You don't mind, do you?"
"I'd love the extra company."
~
Arwen bit her lip and gazed upon her family's wealth. Feyre stood agape. There was so much that it was hard to know where to look, mounds of gold and silver, lapis and emeralds, rubies and diamonds. Rhysand stepped to her side. "I kept your private belongings towards the back," he murmured. "They have their own ward around them."
Arwen trekked forward, passing tables and shelves and chests. Sure enough, there was a gathering of her collection. A mix of gifts, some of her Mother's jewels, and her private tiaras and crowns. It didn't take long to find the one she had in mind. The silver circlet that looked like intertwined vines with a teardrop amethyst the same shade as her eyes. Azriel's gift on her last birthday.
It was all she took. Arwen returned to her brother's side as he walked Feyre through an account of what the vault held. She was more than happy to share this wealth with her High Lady, but couldn't help feeling relieved that her things had their own protection that even Feyre would not be able to pass. They were things that Arwen could not bring herself to share.
~
Arwen found Azriel in the hallway on her way back to her room. "Where have you been?" he inquired. As she passed him, she twirled and walked backwards, placing the circlet on her head. Recognition shone. "I thought that was long gone."
"It was just being kept safe." Pausing, she waited for him to catch up and took his hands. "Rhys would have been made to hunt it down if he discarded it. What will you wear tonight?"
Azriel blew out his cheeks. "Leathers?" he said, more of a question that sought her approval. At her pursed lips, he tried again. "Something more formal? What are you wearing?" Taking him to her room, she showed him the dress Cassian had bought her. He swallowed. "Ah."
"You may wear your leathers if you wish," she said, placing her hands on either cheek. "But seeing you out of them is a treat."
He smiled and kissed her nose, hands resting on her hips. "I will wear everything and nothing for you. Particularlyâ" he dropped his mouth to her cheek, kissing there and speaking into her earâ "the nothing part."
They stayed in her room, talking and merely keeping the other company when their thoughts took lead. When the night began to creep upon the lands and bodies began filling the mountain's balconies, he left to change. Arwen slipped into the heavy dress, surprised at how well it fit considering she never tried it on. Cassian must have taken one of her others when he had it tailored. She met Azriel back in the hall, glad to see him in a fine assortment of a black shirt and dress pants. A siphon remained on the back of each hand.
She handed him her circlet. He placed it on her hand, meticulously adjusting it then running light hands down either side of her face. Arwen couldn't wait. Stretching high, already on her toes with the silver heels she wore, she kissed him. He smiled against her lips, his movements soft and little.
Arwen leant back, running her palms over his cheeks and through his hair, pinching the strands as she reached the nape of his neck. "I love you."
He held her wrist. "You are my mate."
She raised a brow. "I'd prefer the I love you." Mates were not choice. Love, she liked to believe, was something they decided, unconscious or not.
"It was what I said to you when I first realised." Azriel pulled on her wrist, bringing her palm to his mouth to kiss. "I couldn't stop saying it. My mate. I loved my mate."
She remembered that nightânoting how odd it seemed for him to repeat the phrase as though it was a new revelation and not something that had known for a decade. The night at Windhaven where he had killed for her.
They joined their family on the main balcony at the height of the mountain. The space was wide and open, the floor polished to look like marble. Fae were spread across the mountain, many still within the city, their lights low. Arwen made her way to the railing, trying to ignore the sudden nervousness in her stomach. It wasn't the good kind either. Like one of warning.
Still, she smiled when Rhysand approached and kissed her cheek, the movement mimicked by Feyre. They were soon joined by Cassian and Mor who had clearly spent the hours before drinking together. Elain was elsewhere but Arwen was sure she had joined the celebration. The night was beautifully clear, a crescent moon crowning the velvet sky hanging over their little sanctuary.
Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the railing, attempting to focus on Azriel's hands which were settled on the cinch of her waist, his body behind her. Staring at the stars, her heart thumped painfully in waiting.
Then it began. The first spirit of Starfall speared across the sky. More and more appeared behind their leader, each one its own unique shade of iridescence. Arwen watched each one's journey, moving from something unknown to somewhere even more unknown.
She could not smile.
Her stomach sat heavy in her body and her legs felt a little weak. Eventually, her eyes dropped to the city below. She would not be one of them. Arwen tilted her head back. "Would you mind fetching a drink?"
"Of course." He squeezed her waist and then left to fill out her request.
Arwen waited until he had moved off in the direction of the served drinks before fully turning away from the balcony. She kept her head low and made her way for the inside of the House.
Someone grasped her arm. She looked up. Rhys. She gently removed his hand from her. "I need to go."
~
Rhysand stood just a little way off from Feyre. He watched Azriel return, two thin drinks of wine in hand. The shadowsinger had a small smile upon his lips until he looked at an empty space near the railing. His step faltered. Snapping to alert, he looked up and down the balcony. Searching. For Arwen. Rhysand had hoped her mate was aware of her leavingâthat they had planned on sneaking off. He already knew by the look on his sister's face that it was unlikely and Azriel's growing panic confirmed it. She would never leave on Starfall.
"She's not here," he said to Azriel.
Confusion flickered in his brother's eyes. "Where did she go?"
Rhysand could only shrug. Azriel shoved the two drinks into Rhysand's chest who stumbled to catch them. By the time the golden liquid settled inside the glass, the spymaster was long gone.