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Gwyn tied a bit of leather around the end of Seryn’s thick black braid and gave it a tweak as she looked at her daughter in the mirror. How had the years gone by so quickly? Her baby was already eight years old; it seemed like yesterday Gwyn had been holding her newborn. Now the girl sitting in front of her was dressed in light leather training armor in the style that the Valkyries had designed over time, though Seryn’s did have a certain Illyrian flair.
Seryn looked back at her in the mirror, teal eyes that were identical to Gwyn’s filled with excitement and nervousness. “Do you think they’ll like me?”
“Very much,” Gwyn said, putting her hands on Seryn’s shoulders. She gave her a squeeze and then bent down to hug her, nuzzling her forehead against the side of her daughter’s head. The tails of her white ribbon brushed Seryn’s cheek. “Who wouldn’t like you? You’re so lovable.”
“Muuuum, I’m being serious,” Seryn said even as she hugged Gwyn back.
Gwyn kissed Seryn’s temple and gently chucked her on the chin. The shadow that was sitting on Seryn's shoulder nudged Gwyn's finger. “So am I.”
A knock on the doorframe made Gwyn release Seryn. Azriel stood in the open doorway in training leathers, a sword peeking over his shoulders.
“Are you two ready?” he asked, “It’s about to start.”
“It can’t start without her, so I think it’s difficult for us to be late,” Gwyn said, tossing a smirk at him.
“True…”
The pride in Azriel’s eyes was unmistakable as Seryn stood up from the chair in front of the mirror, the intricate braid falling down her back, wings held just right. She smiled up at Gwyn, rushed up to Azriel, and then spun once, as if showing off how well a dress twirled instead of training armor.
“It’s stiff, but I like it,” she said, looking up at him, silently searching for his approval. “I’ll break it in soon enough. What do you think, Papa?”
“It suits you,” he said, reaching out to brush his hand over her hair.
Gwyn watched them for a moment, her mate and the child he had once never let himself believe he would have. Through the bond she and Azriel shared, she could feel his unending love for their daughter and how much joy she brought to his life. Both of their lives.
Today was a big day for all of them. Seryn had recently turned eight, which was the age that Illyrians officially began training in camps. As a child of the Inner Circle, Seryn had already begun some battle training, mostly exercise techniques, movement combinations, hand-to-hand combat, and beginning knife fighting. It had been impossible to stop her since both Nyx and Rhodes had already started training; if none of the adults had taken charge, the boys would’ve started teaching her.
While Azriel and Gwyn had both agreed that they were going to wait a few more months before letting her into the training rings at Windhaven, they had also agreed that Seryn could, if she wanted, become a Novice in the Valkyrie ranks. A few years ago, the Valkyries had started allowing orphaned girls or the daughters of Valkyries to join. Seryn would be the youngest so far to take the cream-colored novice ribbon.
As a family, they had sat down and had a long talk, making it very clear that neither Azriel nor Gwyn wanted to force Seryn down the path of becoming a warrior. Some people expected that she would follow in her parents’ footsteps. After all, she was the only child whose parents were warriors who had achieved the title of Carynthian, though Gwyn only claimed the title of Valkyrie. While Seryn certainly had the natural skill for it, she also had talents in other areas. The only part they insisted on was that she learned to defend herself. Everything else was optional. But Seryn had wanted to become a Novice, had wanted to learn to fight.
“I can do more than one thing,” she had said, “And this is a thing I want to do.”
Gwyn pushed her own coppery hair and the tails of her white Valkyrie ribbon back behind her shoulders before crossing the room to her family.
The House of Wind opened the door wider, indicating that it was time to go. They had stayed here last night, taking up their usual rooms and spending the evening with Nesta, Cassian, and Rhodes. The brief novice ceremony would take place at the training grounds at the top of the House. The Valkyries now had two other places where they trained in Day Court and Summer Court, but the training location in the Night Court was still the grounds at the top of the library. For anyone who couldn’t make it up the stairs every morning, that trainee could make use of the special stair shortening ability the House had adapted for itself years ago to help out Nesta and Gwyn. While they could certainly climb the stairs, it was a tad obnoxious when you were wiped from a night out and didn’t want to rely on someone with wings or winnowing to get you up there.
With Azriel leading the way, shadows moving ahead of him, Gwyn and Seryn followed. A few other Valkyries, Blades, and novices were still trickling in. Some of the ones who recognized Seryn gave her encouraging smiles or nods, and she smiled back in reply.
As Azriel paused at the doorway to the training grounds, where laughter and chatter and music blended together as Valkyries prepared for morning training, Seryn’s hand slipped into Gwyn’s.
Gwyn squeezed the small fingers she loved so much. “Nervous?”
“A little,” Seryn said, “I want…” She paused as she considered what to say.
A team passed by, a trio of females who weren’t yet in their twenties but had been training for a few years. Seryn watched them go, which left the family alone. “I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”
Gwyn squeezed Seryn’s hand tighter but didn’t immediately verbally reassure her, knowing her daughter and how her mind worked. Gwyn exchanged a look with Azriel and pulled on their bond as their daughter frowned. He answered with a curl of understanding.
They had talked about this, the two of them, on and off since Seryn was born. There were always going to be certain expectations that other people would have their daughter. The offspring of warriors, the daughter of a lightsinger and a shadowsinger, powerful in her own right as a lightweaver. Only female child in the Night Court’s Inner Circle, clever and strategic and thoughtful, someone to watch as she grew into her strength under careful guidance. But to Azriel and Gwyn, she was their little girl. If they could keep that pressure away from her, they would fight it with everything they had. They wanted the world and all its paths stretched out before her.
“We’re always proud of you, Seryn,” Gwyn said, running her thumb over Seryn’s hand. “Don’t worry about disappointing anyone or doing this for anyone else. Including us. This is something you do for yourself and not because someone else wants you to.”
Seryn nodded. “I just want to be good at it.”
“You will be, if this is what you want.” Gwyn knew how determined Seryn could be, and that was half of what it took to be a Valkyrie.
Azriel knelt down on one knee as Gwyn pulled Seryn to her, hands on her shoulders. He cupped her face and held her gaze. His shadows twined around her. “We’re here to honor this choice, but if you chose in this moment to turn around and walk away from this, we’d support you. There are other paths than that of a warrior.”
Seryn smiled a little. “I want to do this, honest.”
“If you ever change your mind—” Gwyn started to say.
“It’s all right and you’ll be there, you told me,” Seryn interrupted, snuggling back against Gwyn. She put her hands over Azriel’s. “I know.”
Azriel gave Seryn a long searching look, and Gwyn let her worry settle alongside his in the middle of their bond even as she soothed him. He sent back a similar feeling, the complicated emotions twining together. Finally, Azriel kissed Seryn’s forehead and then stood, reaching out a hand to Gwyn.
As the sun rose over the training grounds, the music was turned off and the chatter died down as the Valkyrie moved into their teams and the teams got into squads and the squads gathered into the platoon. Usually they would start their exercises then, music blaring, but today was different.
One team separated from the others. Gwyn moved with Nesta and Emerie, their steps in sync as they stepped to the front of the platoon. Nowadays, the Valkyries trained their own, though occasionally others joined in with special skills or techniques. Around the ring, a few watchers had joined for the morning. There was a stern-faced elderly nighthob, a faerie with bat-like ears and large light blue eyes, her hair frizzy like a grey cloud around her head with a pair of short curved horns poking up between her ears. Another nearby Valkyrie, a high fae female with dark brown skin and silvery hair kept in dozens of braids, wore the training clothes of the platoon that trained in the Summer Court.
And not far from those two, the Inner Circle had gathered to support their youngest. Azriel and Gwyn had insisted they not make a big deal out of it since it wasn’t supposed to be an elaborate ceremony, but they also hadn’t wanted to turn them away. Amren stood with Varian nearest to the Valkyrie woman from the Summer Court. Rhys and Feyre were perched higher up on the wall of the training grounds, Feyre leaning against Rhys’ side, both sporting Illyrian wings.
Mor sat on the edge of a chaise lounge, a few of which had been hauled back up to the training grounds. Her eyes flicked to Emerie, lingered, and then flicked away; they were in an off-again period. Lucien had joined in and was leaning against a nearby wall, arms crossed though the smile he gave Seryn as she and the other soon-to-be-novices appeared was warm. Elain had climbed up to a ledge under Feyre and Rhys, and she gave Seryn a quick wave that Seryn returned.
Cassian stood closest to the Valkyries, wearing his normal training gear and a beaming smile for his niece. To his left were Nyx and Rhodes. The boys were also dressed for training, indicating that they fully intended to join in as well, at least this morning.
Azriel was on Cassian’s right, his eyes never leaving Seryn as he silently cheered her on.
The newest team was made up of Seryn, a nighthob girl, and a half-nymph, half-high fae girl from Summer. Both girls were a little older than Seryn but only by a year or two. As they stepped into the light as a trio for the first time, the nighthob girl cocked an eyebrow at Seryn, who was studying the girls she would be training with.
“Got a problem, city flitter?” she hissed. She had been introduced as Roisin.
Seryn half-smiled. “No. I was just thinking that the two of us together almost make up a whole bat.” She flicked her eyes to the half-nymph girl. “Can you breathe underwater?”
Fola, with her curly silver hair and webbed fingered hands, smirked. “Can you fly?”
In answer, Seryn spread her wings and grinned.
“I can see in the complete dark, if we’re showing off,” Roisin said, rolling her eyes.
“Congratulations,” Fola said, but her bright smile took the sting out of the teasing, earning her a partial smile in return.
Almost in step, they approached as Nesta, the Valkyries’ general, moved toward them, leaving Gwyn and Emerie behind. She eyed each girl equally with her steely gaze, only a glimmer of the deep affection she had for her niece flashing in her gaze for a moment.
“Are you here to train?” she asked, as if they had simply wandered onto the training grounds.
“Yep, Miss Scary General Lady Death, ma'am,” Roisin said.
“Seems like it,” Fola said. The Summer Court Valkyrie sighed in clear exasperation.
Seryn nodded. “What they said, in a more serious way.” She smiled past Nesta at Gwyn and then Emerie.
In that moment, Gwyn knew that Emerie had chosen extremely well and that these three were going to be a handful. Emerie must have wanted her niece to have an interesting time of it and gain two new trouble-making friends in the process. She bumped her hip into her battle-sister’s and lifted her eyebrows.
Emerie’s smile was smug and unapologetic. “They’ll be fun.”
“Is that what you’re calling it?”
Nesta glanced over her shoulder at them, and they quieted, though their eyes shone with amusement.
“We’d like to be accepted as novices,” Seryn said, speaking for all three of them. Gwyn’s heart pounded with pride and love and hint of apprehension of the future and the dangers her daughter would face. She felt Azriel answer that fear with the clear reassurance that Seryn, warrior or not, would always have their protection.
Nesta held out three ribbons, long and cream. “These can only be worn around your head in battle, and they are a reminder of the white ribbon you’ll one day cut. The one that will show the world you’re a Valkyrie. If you want to join us, help each other put these on and get in line for warm-ups.”
The three girls each picked up a ribbon. Seryn turned to Roisin, who held out an arm. At the same time, Fola picked up Seryn’s braid and started tying the ribbon around the end of it, wrapping it around the leather. Seryn tied her ribbon around Roisin’s left wrist and then Roisin tied Fola’s hair back in a low ponytail.
When all three ribbons were secured, there was a pause and then a deafening cheer from the Valkyries and those who had gathered to celebrate the newest team. Nyx added to the cacophony by tossing up bursts of faelight that was interwoven with fire and night and snowflakes, creating makeshift fireworks in the sky. Rhys, not to be outdone by his son, spread star-flecked night over the sky so the fireworks popped even brighter. Beside Rhys, Feyre rolled her eyes before flinging out more light, born from her spark of Day power.
“Your family is over the top,” Fola said in her matter-of-fact tone as she glanced at Seryn.
Seryn nodded even as she smiled at her parents, who had found each other for a moment, hand in hand in the middle of the celebration. They both smiled back. She only had that second of quiet before Cassian snagged her and threw her once into the air as if she was a toddler instead of an eight-year-old. She yelped in surprise and then hugged him around the neck before he set her down and shoved her toward the training ranks. “Go on, little novice, before I make you run laps."
“You’re not in charge of training anymore,” Nesta told him as she caught Seryn in a brief hug, frowning at him even as she squeezed her niece.
Cassian laughed. “I’m very aware.”
Azriel and Gwyn watched as Seryn and her team joined the other Valkyrie ranks. Gwyn settled her cheek against Azriel’s arm for a moment. If a warrior’s spirit was able to be inherited, their daughter had a double dose of it.