Chapter Text
The long afternoon was fading into what was hopefully going to be a good evening when Azriel landed outside the gate to his and Gwyn’s cottage by the river. He had needed to stretch his legs after standing by and listening to merchants come to Feyre with complaints, concerns, and advice about the new renovations for the Palace of Stone and Wood. It was the market square with bookstores, stationary shops, furniture stores and places that sold other household items. Quiet and steeped in knowledge, it was Azriel’s favorite out of the markets. Long overdue for new cobblestones and structural repairs, the Palace of Stone and Wood was beginning to look comparatively shabby next to the other market squares and the Rainbow.
However, the owners of those stores were the reason it looked that way. They were notorious for preferring Stone and Wood to never change. Feyre had spent most of the afternoon assuaging worries. Azriel had been in attendance mainly as a companion to endure the onslaught as well as a silent reminder that none of the Inner Court stood alone. No one expected the merchants to attack Feyre. But each other? That was another matter. Feyre obviously could handle the issues herself, but he had been forced to step into the hallway to quell a few verbal and escalating squabbles while she held audience with someone else.
Arguing, displeased merchants were not his favorite group of people.
It was early autumn but still mild in Velaris. As Azriel walked down the path to cottage, the trees in the front yard were beginning to change color, the leaves shifting from green to yellow and the first hints of red. Soon the streets would be a riot of scarlet, orange, and gold as the city headed swiftly toward winter.
He could hear laughter inside as he reached for the door handle, the iron shaped like a crescent moon. The shadows around him pressed at the door handle.
One settled on his shoulder, acting as a spokes-wisp for the others. Now, please, tired of waiting, go home.
His shadows were always eager to go home these days, which he supposed they picked up from him. As he opened the door, a dark shape raced out and then twined around his legs. Forever Fuzzy, named by Gwyn back when he was a kitten, was one of the three specters that Azriel and Gwyn had raised. Specters looked like very large cats with massive tails and star-flecked black fur, but they were magic creatures able to winnow through shadows and moved through other worlds. They had a bad habit of bringing back small creatures that weren’t native to Prythian or anywhere on their world. Although they didn’t belong to Gwyn and Azriel, they did frequent the cottage and expected to be fed and petted and praised on occasion. Fuzz was the laziest of the three and the most likely to be found at the cottage.
Bending down, Azriel scratched the little monster behind his ears. “Causing trouble?”
Fuzz blinked his large green eyes and sauntered away, heading toward the low wall. Before he reached it, he stepped into the shadow of an old oak and disappeared. He would be back when he got hungry.
The door open the rest of the way. Gwyn leaned against the door frame, blocking his way inside. She crossed her arms and regarded him with a facade of disinterest. “We don’t allow strangers around here. You’ll have to move on.”
Azriel tugged on their bond, sending a cascade of his steady, endless love toward her even as he leaned back, crossing his arms to mimic her. “Odd, since you look exactly like my mate. And this looks like our home. And that sounds like our child inside.”
“Oh?” For all her feigned coolness, Gwyn sent back a rush of warmth and love and desire, all underlain with unyielding confidence that he felt the same for her. “Very odd indeed.”
Azriel took a step forward, moving into the doorway with her. He put a hand over her head, not blocking her in but making the distance between them less. He leaned down toward her. “The resemblance is truly uncanny,” he said, his tone serious. “I didn’t think anyone could be as effortlessly beautiful as she is.” She always pulled out this side of him, this easy playfulness that he hadn’t known before.
A smile sneaked onto Gwyn’s face as her adherence to the ruse began to break. “Wouldn’t she be jealous to hear you say that?”
“She would be, if you weren’t one and the same.” His shadows reached out to her to slip into her hair and others rushed past into the house to find Seryn. He could hear her start babbling to them.
“So adamant.” Gwyn looked up at him, those teal eyes inviting. “But now that you mention it, you look a little like my mate.”
“Interesting,” he said, his other hand finding her waist.
“I think maybe it’s the shadows…” She tapped her finger against his collarbone. “Wait, no, it’s the air of general grumpiness—”
Azriel kissed her to stop her from commenting any more about his perceived grouchiness. She hugged him, slipping into his hold.
“Welcome home, Az,” she said, grinning at him.
“Now you recognize me.”
“The kiss sealed it,” she said, pulling him inside.
Seryn’s squeal of joy as he and Gwyn stepped into the large living room made his smile widen. At one and a half, she was often on the move and curious about everything. Seryn had his black hair and light brown skin as well as her mother’s freckles and teal eyes. Wings rose up over her shoulders.
It seemed impossible that he ever could have had any part in bringing someone so wonderful and bright into this world.
Ser had been watching a pair of shadows twirl across a bookcase shelf, but when Azriel appeared right after Gwyn, she began rushed toward them as fast as her toddler legs could carry her. He expected her to run right to them, but he froze when she flapped her wings and they actually pulled her into the air.
She was flying.
Beside him, Gwyn gasped. Seryn also seemed startled, but she flapped again, going higher before gliding toward the two of them. Her dark wings held her. The shadows circled her, following along in the air with her.
Azriel stepped forward as she twitched a wing and accidentally folded it in. He caught her as she started to fall. She grabbed his fighting leathers and looked around with wide eyes before tucking her head under his chin. “Good, home. L’ello.” Her own way of saying hello and welcome home.
Pride surged through him. He had known that Illyrian babies started trying to fly young, he had seen Nyx and Rhodes both try at this age. Seryn had been awkwardly jumping into the air and trying to copy the boys ever since she had gotten mostly steady on her feet. He should have known this was coming. This was the first time she had ever truly taken to the air.
And now he would get to teach her to fly.
Heat grew behind his eyes. Azriel's hold on Seryn tightened as he kissed the top of her head.
Seryn was going to have the best life he and Gwyn could give her. She would never know what it was like to grow up in cramped darkness, unable to fly and barely able to imagine what that would be like. By the time she was eleven, he would make sure she was a skilled flyer, a far cry from the boy who wobbled through the air and crashed every five feet.
Her wings would be her freedom.
Gwyn squeezed his arm, sensing his happiness and his memories, the difficult emotions. She sent understanding down the bond, along with empathy, and he loved her all the more for letting him sort through how he was feeling instead of trying to fix it. His shadows crowded in, whispering comfort.
Gwyn reached over to run her knuckle across Seryn’s cheek. “Aren’t you always a brilliant surprise.”
“Prize?” Seryn echoed and then leaned back, her brow furrowing. “No sad.” She pressed her palm to Azriel's face, smearing a tear that had escaped.
“I’m not sad,” Azriel said as he looped an arm around Gwyn, pulling her in. Happiness won out over the memories, and they scurried into the dark corners on his mind. “I’m very proud of you.”
Seryn lifted her wings, spreading them wide and showing them off. “Mine.” Azriel lifted his own wings a little in solidarity, and Seryn clapped her hands. “Yes!”
Gwyn smiled. “I guess this means we’re adding flight training to our schedule?”
“Every day,” Azriel said, already coming up with plans. After she started like this, there would be no way to stop Seryn. Not that he wanted to. She needed guidance, otherwise she would try to figure it all out on her own.
“And when are we telling everyone else?” Her eyebrow lifted in a conspiratorial inclination that they should cause some mischief.
Azriel looked from Gwyn to Seryn and then focused intently on her. “You can keep a secret, can’t you, Ser?”
Seryn put her hands on his cheeks again, squishing his face this time. “Shhhh.”
He doubted she could, but maybe he and Gwyn could maneuver things to keep it a secret for a while. At least until they were ready to surprise the rest of their family with Seryn’s new skill.