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His shadows heard her groaning first.
Distant, but he knew he’d heard it. It was pitch dark outside, and Azriel guessed it would be around three in the morning. He hadn’t gone to sleep yet — and frankly, he wasn’t planning to. He had too many reports to go over and he wasn’t tired in the slightest.
Not like his shadows helped him relax, anyway.
They had been quite unsettled since that morning, dancing in a worried rhythm that annoyed the Spymaster. It wasn’t common for them to act up like this, not when there wasn’t a threat nearby. Because he had scanned the House twice and he knew it was perfectly safe.
Until he heard that distant groaning, and Azriel rose to his feet immediately
Gwyn .
He didn’t know how or why he knew, but it was undoubtedly Gwyn who was making those distraught sounds. He was out of his study in a heartbeat.
The priestess had moved into one of the rooms in the House of Wind three weeks ago, and not once had she shown any sign of discomfort or regret. She seemed happy up here, closer to Nesta and also enjoying the privilege of living in a magic House that was as obsessed with inappropriate literature as she was. Azriel saw her bright, genuine smile every day and he couldn’t ask for more.
But now, concern and something else he couldn’t identify filled every inch of him as he hurried to Gwyn’s bedroom a floor above his. His shadows were in distress, urging him to get there faster. By the time he reached her locked door, his heart was beating with the forces of a hundred drums.
“Gwyn?”, he called quietly but loudly enough for her to hear. He wouldn’t send in his shadows inside, not when he didn’t know if it would freak her out even more.
The groaning stopped.
“Gwyn,” he repeated. “It’s Azriel. Are you okay?”
He heard her shifting in bed, then quiet footsteps dragging towards the entrance. A second later, Gwyn opened the door and stared up at him with tired eyes.
Gwyn was beautiful. If he was being completely honest and objective, the Valkyrie was one of the most breathtaking females he had ever laid his eyes on. A striking beauty that was difficult to ignore — and his shadows were inclined to agree. But now she looked… lifeless.
Her usual pale face somehow looked even paler. Her eyes were tired and empty, their usual brightness nowhere to be found. And her hair, that smooth coppery hair he had dreamed so many times of tangling his fingers through, was up on a messy ponytail that had seen better days.
He gave her a sympathetic smile, “I’m sorry I came by unannounced. You were… I thought something was wrong.”
Gwyn raised an equally tired eyebrow, “You mean you heard my groaning and thought I was dying?”, his lips twitched. “Well, Shadowsinger, you weren’t too far off.”
She opened the door wider, “You can come inside if you want.”
And without so much as glancing up at him again, Gwyn turned around and dumped herself into the mattress face down.
Azriel looked at her carefully and hesitated at the door. She had invited him inside, and yet it felt extremely intimate to do so. They trained together, yes, alone just the two of them but… This was her room. Her safe place. And she would be alone with him and—
She groaned again.
“Gwyn, what’s wrong?”, his heartbeat picked up and he didn’t think twice before crossing that invisible line and walking towards her. He stopped a safe distance from her bed.
Gwyn turned around until she was laying in a fetal position, bringing her knees up to her chest, “Cramps.”
Oh.
Oh .
He didn’t know why his palms started sweating. This wasn’t the first time he’d dealt with a female on her period, even if it was rare for him to do so. Mor wasn’t… well. She wasn’t particularly discreet about it when she was on her period, constantly threatening Cassian and him to bring her chocolate or face the consequences. And she had no reason to be discreet, either — it was a natural, painful thing and Azriel could only imagine the agony Gwyn was going through right now.
So he walked up a bit closer, “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”
Gwyn squeezed her eyes shut, visibly in pain, “You could rip out my uterus.”
Azriel couldn’t help but chuckle at her bluntness. He could swear she smiled back, “I don’t think that’d be pretty, Berdara.”
She sighed, “It really feels like death, you know?”
He had no doubts about that. Azriel got closer to the edge of the bed, slowly so she could have enough time to tell him to back off. When she didn’t, he sat on the edge of the mattress, which sank under his weight. Gwyn didn’t move from her fetal position.
“Perhaps some tea would make you feel better,” he offered.
But the priestess shook her head and signaled to her bedside table with her chin, “Already asked the House for it,” she told him. “It did absolutely nothing.”
Something in Azriel’s chest unsettled at the sight of Gwyn so pale, looking so weak and in pain, so… utterly defeated. His shadows peered over his wings, silently asking for permission to reach out to her. Azriel allowed one tiny shadow to twist around her hand — small and gentle. The last thing he wanted to do was to upset her, let alone in her current, miserable state.
Gwyn’s eyes immediately darted to the playful shadow, tangling around her slim fingers as if they were trying to distract her from the pain. It worked, “Do you control them?”, she asked, eyes more full of life now. “Or are they an identity of their own?”
Azriel’s lips twitched, “I command them, most of the time,” he explained. “But sometimes they do as they please. With my consent, that is.”
Gwyn hummed, “So you gave this one permission to come to me?”
He resisted the urge to scratch the back of his neck, “I can make it retreat if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“Not at all,” she said quickly. “I like your shadows. They’re cute.”
Azriel almost chuckled, “Cute. My shadows,” no one had ever used that word to describe them, “Our enemies would be inclined to disagree, Berdara.”
She giggled, but then a sharp bolt of pain struck her abdomen, and she flinched. Azriel tensed, “Seriously, Gwyn. Tell me what I can get you to make it better.”
Gywn shook her head again, and the shadow that roamed her hand now went down to her lower stomach, wrapping around it protectively. It calmed her down, somehow, but it wasn’t enough. There was only one thing that had always managed to ease her cramps, but she wasn’t going to…
“Gwyn.”
The command in his voice sent a shiver down her spine.
“Tell me, please.”
She swallowed. He sounded concerned, truly worried about her and yet… She’d die of pure embarrassment if he said no, if he found her request too awkward. But then again, he had asked what he could do to make her feel better.
“There’s this one thing,” she started. “But it’s not something you can get me.”
She was pretty sure he could pick up the fast beating of her heart, the heavy breathing that had nothing to do with the pain.
“What is it?”
Slowly, she sat up on the bed to face him. His shadow was still around her stomach, “Belly rubs,” she blurted out, hoping the darkness of the room would conceal her stupid blush. It was just Azriel. She shouldn’t be feeling like this.
He raised a questioning eyebrow, “Belly rubs?”
Gwyn nodded, “My sister and I,” she started, swallowing down a different kind of pain, “used to rub each other’s bellies when we had cramps. It really… It helped us relax enough to fall asleep. Even more than tea.”
Azriel’s heart jumped, “Do you want me to rub your belly?”
Gods , when he put it like that…
“It’s okay,” she shook her head, looking down at the sheets, “I shouldn’t have asked you that. I’m sorry. It was stupid, I…”
“Lay down.”
Her breath hitched, “W-What?”
“Come on,” he encouraged her. “Do you want a belly rub or not?”
At this point, she wasn’t entirely sure she was breathing, “You’re actually going to do it?”
Azriel gestured her to lay down again, so she did, “It’s what you need,” he stated simply, then he added carefully, “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”
“I have not,” she swallowed. He was actually going to do this.
“Then let me take care of you.”
She tried not to let his words affect her too much, but she feared it was already late for that. Azriel scooted closer, and looked at her one last time for consent. She nodded.
“Where exactly do you need the belly rubs?”, he asked, voice so low it almost made her shiver again.
Gwyn grabbed one of his hands and gently placed it on her lower abdomen, right where his shadow had been, now long gone back to its master, “It works better if you apply a bit of pressure, but not too much or you’ll crush my organs,” she smirked.
Azriel smirked back, “Weren’t you the one who asked me to rip out her uterus just moments ago?”
She rolled her eyes playfully, “I’ve got mood swings and I’m in pain, Shadowsinger. I’m too tired to even remember what I said two minutes ago.”
He chuckled, a beautiful sound that made her heart swoon, “Alright,” her skin, even if covered by the thin fabric of the t-shirt she used to sleep, was burning. He didn’t dare move his hand yet. “If at some point it makes you uncomfortable…”
Gwyn didn’t say anything, and instead took his hand again and started rubbing circles along her stomach, guiding him. She whispered, “You never make me uncomfortable, Az.”
Az . The nickname did something to his own stomach, making it flip in a way that felt so foreign. She dropped her hand to her side then, and sighed in what Azriel could only guess was either pain or relief.
His movements were careful, controlled, and gentle. Her skin was soft under his touch, and it was on fire. His long fingers covered almost the entirety of her stomach, and he tried not to dwell too much on what the sight did to him. She looked so small under his touch, so delicate. And she trusted him to do this for her.
Gwyn almost purred under his touch. There was something so intimate about Azriel rubbing her belly, and yet it didn’t unnerve her in the slightest. He had always acted as a calm and reassuring presence by her side, and now…
Let me take care of you.
His words echoed in her mind and made her heart beat faster. He really wanted to do this, take care of her. He’d always had, in a way. Azriel never doubted her abilities to fight for herself, but if weakness somehow found her, if she couldn’t push through… he was there. He was always there for her.
“Gwyn?”
“Mm…”
Azriel smiled, “I asked you if it felt any better.”
Gwyn blushed. She had completely forgotten about her cramps. And now that she thought about it, she was surprised to notice that it didn’t hurt anymore.
“You’ve got magic hands, Shadowsinger,” she sighed, and immediately regretted it. She’d read that innuendo in a book once, and she couldn’t believe she’d just said it out loud. To Azriel .
“I guess I do,” he smirked, and her blush only deepened. She shouldn’t be thinking about those magic hands somewhere else…
Stop .
She needed to get a grip. It would truly be the death of her if he smelled her growing arousal.
So Gwyn closed her eyes and relaxed under his touch, loosened up the tension in her muscles. Her pain had completely gone away and, if this wasn’t what heaven felt like, then it must be very close.
“Thank you,” she muttered as she felt her eyelids getting heavier.
Azriel noticed her breathing even out, and he could only guess how tired she was. He kept rubbing circles on her delicate stomach as he felt her fall asleep, and then kept caressing the soreness away some more.
Once he made sure she was deep asleep, Azriel leaned down and planted a faint kiss on her lower stomach, as if it would somehow keep the healing sensation within. He sat up slowly not to wake her up, but when he started walking towards the door, a small whimper made him turn around.
Gwyn shifted in her sleep, “Stay,” she mumbled, extending a tired hand towards him.
Azriel smiled to himself and made his way back next to her. When he was close enough, Gwyn reached for his hand again. He held it carefully between his long fingers as he laid back next to her on the bed.
She wrapped an arm around his middle and snuggled closer to his body warmth. His heart melted at the contact, at how much Gwyn trusted him and felt safe enough to do this. Azriel put a strong arm around her shoulders and brought her closer.
Gwyn let out a happy sigh, and when she spoke softly against his chest he realised she wasn’t as asleep as she had made him believe, “Thank you,” she whispered into the night. “For taking care of me.”
Azriel’s heart glowed, “Always, Gwyn.” He pressed a soft kiss on top of her head. The first of many, “Always.”