Work Text:
Azriel watched carefully as one of his shadows hovered just above the Autumn Court heir’s shoulder. It danced briefly, almost as if to taunt the shadowsinger, before it made itself comfortable, resting once more.
Eris was standing over the high table, palms flat against the ancient wood, amber eyes flicking between the maps he had placed there moments before. He was biting the inside of his cheek, Azriel noticed, perhaps a nervous habit.
The maps looked old to Azriel, some hand-painted before the court’s borders existed. He was surprised that Eris would let one of his hounds, no matter how well-behaved they all seemed to be, rest his large snout right on the table. Eris had taken all of the scrolls and parchments from the Forest House library, searching on Rhysand’s behalf for Koschei’s lake. He wondered if the maps were priceless, and whether Eris might find himself in serious trouble if the massive dog decided that the papers looked appetizing.
But Azriel could admit that he was paying very little attention to the maps, especially as Eris had decided to remove his jacket, to untie the fabric that had been around his collar, leaving him in shirtsleeves and a waistcoat. It was entirely too comfortable for Azriel, the triangle of skin at the other male’s throat making his mind wander.
In response to his thoughts, another one of Azriel’s shadows slowly swirled away from him, choosing to float its way around Eris’s neck. The hound’s ears twitched, but the animal did not move.
Eris hummed in approval and Azriel turned his attention back to the maps.
“Find something useful?” He asked the other male, moving to stand at his side. Eris’s scent was overwhelming, like apples and vanilla, reminding Azriel of the baked goods Autumn was known for.
Eris shrugged elegantly. “Something interesting,” he mumbled, pale fingers tracing the carefully painted lines of a mountain range.
Azriel’s brows furrowed as he searched for whatever detail Eris had spotted, but he could not pay attention as he saw another one of his shadows right by the rings on the prince’s hand.
He silently willed them all to return, only for another little shadow to float by the smokehound. Snout only twitching, the animal was like a statue, frozen in place. Large eyes the colour of dying embers followed the shadow, and swift as the wind, the hound snapped its jaws.
Eris clicked his tongue in response, the dog whining. Azriel watched as Eris lazily pet the animal, hardly wary despite the hound’s unnervingly sharp teeth.
“Tell your shadows to keep away from Pyrrhus,” Eris added, not even bothering to look at Azriel.
Azriel felt as his lips pulled up in a smile. He watched as more shadows whirled around the hound, some dancing between Eris and the animal. “Of course.”