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Black Tights, Lonely Nights
Elain
Shaking my head, I threw the black and brown leather set on the bed hating every moment of this humiliation. Just by looking at it, I knew that it would never fit me. My sister was taller, lithe, athletic, with a compact frame, lack of hips, a small waist and a thigh gap wide enough for an Illyrian to fly through.
Me?
No, I wasn’t like her at all. There was a time when we were nearly starving to death and my body reflected our circumstances. I was boney, my breasts had shrivelled down to tiny empty sacks, my hip bones protruded unattractively. Thankfully, those days were behind us, but so was my sickly slender body.
I sighed. The whole aventure was rather preposterous. I did not want to do it, but Nesta, as usual, was aggressively persistent, and I agreed, just to keep the peace. She had mellowed out following her marriage–pardon, mating–however, when she wanted something it was impossible to refuse. Whether I wanted the same, was irrelevant.
I stripped off my dressing gown and picked up Feyre’s leather trousers. A small laugh escaped my lips. This was so silly.
Well, I tugged the leather past my thighs! That was surprising. I wasn’t expecting for them to go above my knees. But when it came to my hips, I immediately gave up, not even bothering to try. I sighed again: this was a massive failure. Then, just because I wanted to torture myself even further, I attempted to put on the jacket. It wouldn't come close to buttoning on my chest. In fact, I resembled Morrigan, with her generous bust and her round hips.
I didn’t know what else to do. I supposed that I could go in my dress, but that didn’t seem comfortable or conducive to what Nesta had in mind for me.
“Did it fit?” I heard Feyre’s voice from the hallway.
Scowling, I walked to the door, opened it and handed her her leathers.
“Oh,” her face fell.
She immediately started prattling, “I can look for something else! I am sure I have something that would work for you! I,”
“Forget it,” I answered petulantly.
“No, don’t be upset,” Feyre pleaded. “We’ll find something.”
I wasn’t upset. I was annoyed. With myself, with Nesta, and most of all with myself for agreeing to this stupid endeavour.
“It’s alright,” I told Feyre. “I’ll figure it out.”
I always did.
Azriel
It was early and the training ring was still empty.
I liked the silence. Not to say that my charges were much for talking–they moved silently and obediently–like ghosts, but for once, I could enjoy myself and perform my basic routine all on my own. No jeering Cassian in sight. No ogling from the priestesses or from Nesta. No Gwyn with her annoying questions and childish ‘challenges’. The day when Gwyn Berdara can challenge me, vex me and best me, will be the day when I hang up my boots, hand my resignation to Rhysand and fly to live in my lake mansion, alone and undisturbed.
Alas, I feared that that day would never come. And neither would Rhysand’s promises of providing me with respite from all the training and my daily assignments. Since Mor had promised to take over the priestesses’ training from me, almost eight months had passed and here I was, back on the ring before the first rooster’s crow. Still waiting.
I went through my round of stretches and then moved on to the weights, pushing myself to the point of pain, and enjoying the sting of my stretching and contorting muscles. Anything to take my mind off her.
It’s been months. Months of silence and polite indifference. Months of tension. Months of me not knowing whether she was actually fucking her so-called mate. And even if I knew, what would it matter? What difference would it make? She was free to make her own choices and clearly, I was a bad decision that she just only avoided. Just only. Maybe I should thank Rhysand for pulling me back that Solstice night and forbidding me from pursuing her? Because she didn’t seem to have cared either way. Part of me thought that perhaps she was hiding her feelings, her disappointment, maybe even her pain, but as time passed, I began doubting myself, her. I began doubting everything that had happened on Solstice night. Did I misread the signs? Was her acquiescence nothing more than a figment of my imagination and everything that I had assumed was happening, was just wishful thinking? Did I actually move onto a mated female without her consent? Did I suffer from some mysterious inability to read and understand females?
Who the fuck knows? Almost four years of yearning and wanting and needing and desiring and dreaming and hoping came to naught. And I was tired.
“Good morning Az!”
Nesta’s voice roused me from my reverie.
I did one final, slow pull up, relishing in the pain as my arms lifted my body and my wings off the stone floor. I held my form. The burn increased. Still I held on.
“Hello Shadowsinger!”
I hid my wince. Wince or scowl?
Anyway, I released slowly and finally returned to my feet.
“Oh, I can do that too!” Gwyn announced and rushed to the bars, to demonstrate.
Of course you can
But can you do 500?
Gwyn did a respectable 25 pulls ups.
I forced myself to tell her ‘good job!’
“How many did you do?” she demanded instantly.
“About 50,” I lied.
“Oh, I will do 50 next time!” she promised haughtily.
“Of course you will,” Emerie chuckled and I was glad for the interruption.
Also, I hated being called ‘shadowsinger’. I don’t know why. When Cassian was called ‘general’ or ‘commander’ there was something playful and sexy about that (obviously not when it came from his soldiers). Shadowsinger just didn’t have the same ring to it. It was both formal and frightening.
The priestesses began filing in, quiet and disciplined. Well, of course they were–after all, I was the one who was training them. I wasn’t Cassian. My charges knew when to speak, how to speak, and when to follow orders. Maybe Cass was correct in his assessment, because I think that I am a hardass teacher. But then Cassian babied all of them, and I didn’t believe in making training easier or more palatable, simply because they were female or priestesses from the Library. Frankly, I wasn't very easy on Feyre either, and she was my High Lady.
I grabbed my tunic and dressed, without turning towards the priestesses. I had noticed their innocent interest, but I didn’t want to encourage it. Even though it was easier to train barefoot, I quickly put on my boots, recalling how months ago my shadows reported to me that some of the priestesses waxed poetic about my…bare feet. My physique? I can understand that. I’ve always tried to remain humble about my appearance, since I’ve had no hand in it, but I know that centuries of training and soldering had left their mark on my body. These unfortunate celibate priestesses hardly saw males, so it wasn’t terribly surprising that they’d view me as attractive. But I didn’t think that it had gone as far as my feet.
“Petal!” Cassian’s voice boomed across the ring. “You actually came?!”
My spine stiffened.
There was only one person whom Cassian called ‘petal’. It was something that I found both endearing and annoying. Why was he allowed to call her sweet pet names and I wasn’t? But then, I supposed, she was his actual sister-in-law and I didn’t know what that made me? Nothing. I was nothing.
Nesta, meanwhile, exclaimed “I can’t believe you came!”
To which the response was, “you kept insisting”.
It didn’t sound like she was happy about being here. Not that I was shocked. She wasn’t much for training or having orders barked at her. She stayed fit and happy by tending to her gardens, and her preference for her mornings did not involve cutting ribbons, but eating cardamom buns.
The sisters started whispering to each other, their tones terse and aggressive. My shadows all but dissolved, moving stealthily so they could listen.
You said he wasn’t going to be here!
I didn’t know!
You are lying. You knew he would be.
I didn’t.
I am leaving.
No you aren’t. Don’t be ridiculous. Why do you even care?
I don’t want to do this in front of him, that’s why! And I don’t want to be around him either.
You are behaving like a child!! Whatever happened between the two of you…
Nothing’s happened between the two of us!
Right…You think that I am blind and deaf?
Enjoy your training. Maybe some other time.
Hearing her say that she didn’t want to be around me was disappointing, to say the least. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want our relationship to be broken to the point where we couldn’t be near each other. The anger in her voice told me what I’ve been suspecting for a while. She was upset, angry, and she resented me.
You aren’t leaving, Nesta hissed.
And I agreed. I didn’t want her to leave. I don’t know why she was here, but I’d give anything to have her stay for even five minutes.
I turned around abruptly. Why was I wasting time not looking at her when she was in front of me?
Mother’s. Tits.
My breath stalled in my chest, making it hard to inhale.
Not only was she here, but she was wearing something I’ve never seen her wear before. Tights. Pants. Whatever they were, they made my mouth water. Because they left nothing to the imagination. Her perfect legs were on full display, clad in skintight material. Skintight. And her legs…fucking stunning. She was always gorgeous, whether she was wearing one of her plain, elegant dresses, or a gown. But this. I licked my lips. This was something else. And my dick let itself be known, twitching with excitement at the sight of her. Cauldron damn–this girl. This woman. This female. Every time I saw her, she drove me crazy and right now, was no exception. My obsession with her never eased, never relented. And watching her right now, pink-cheeked, so beautiful that my teeth hurt, so adorably angry just made me crazier than ever.
Besides the tights, she was dressed in a red jumper, also form fitting, and obnoxiously sexual, taunting me with its bright colour (what was she even thinking, wearing this? It was like waving a red cloth in front of a bull!) and with how the wool stretched over her full, glorious breasts. Breasts, that should belong to me, by rights. All of her should belong to me. Those long legs should be wrapped around my hips whenever I want. Those breasts should be bouncing beneath my chest with every thrust of my cock in her. Those coral lips should be moaning my name. Those small pretty hands should be digging into my shoulders.
I schooled my face into a stern, serious expression and approached their little group.
Crossing my arms on my chest, I stopped, pulling the shadows back entirely and ordering them to get the hell out of here, because I already had some ideas on how I wanted to play this out. And for that, I didn’t need my shadows.
I still couldn’t believe that she was here. She looked almost out of place. Also, watching her be out of breath from the climb up here made me smile. My soft girl. She was so precious, lazy and untrained. I was going to keep it that way.
“Hello Elain,” I said. She whipped her head around, her long braid flipping over her shoulder and looked up at me.
“Hello,” she chirped, momentarily forgetting that she should be hating me. Her expression was open and happy. Only then, her smile fell and she took on her typical pose of disdain. Whatever. She could suit herself.
“New recruit?” I queried.
She lifted her chin and informed me, “No. I was just leaving.”
“So you climbed all the way up here to just leave?”
“Indeed.”
I looked at her, sizing her up slowly, raking my eyes over her form, her long slender legs, her round breasts, making her squirm and making her uncomfortable on purpose. Let her squirm.
“Probably a good idea,” I said at last.
“Excuse me? What is?" She was immediately on the defensive.
“You. Leaving.”
“Why is that?”
Gwyn rushed over and loudly greeted her. “Elain! It’s nice to see you. Nesta said that you will be joining. I am happy you came.”
Before Elain could say anything, I butted in and said lazily,
“Oh, she won’t be staying.”
Gwyn gasped, “Why not?”
“Elain decided that this isn’t for her. It does take strength, determination and stamina, after all. To train. Especially to begin training.”
Oh yes. I was blatantly implying that she had none of those things.
“I beg your pardon!” Elain fumed.
I shrugged.
“Beg away, I am just stating the obvious. Would you like me to walk you to the door? Or, would you rather I fly you down?”
“I require none of these things!” she hissed, her cheeks red, her eyes blazing with anger.
I shrugged indifferently yet again. I was enjoying her anger.
I’d take anything other than quiet indifference. Even anger. I didn’t want her hatred, but I wanted her to feel something for me!
“Well, it’s been nice seeing you. Shame you made the trip for nothing.”
I made myself turn and began walking away.
Elain
The cheek on him!
How dare he?
He was the most pigheaded, stubborn and impossible man I’d ever met!
Also, how dare he? Implying that I was incapable of doing his stupid little exercises. If my sister could master this, so could I. She only did it because her man was making her do so and she was in love with him, and back then, she wanted to please him and establish a relationship, whilst pretending as if she wasn’t interested in him. And Nesta was quite lazy. So if she could do it, I could certainly do it too.
First of all, he was wrong about me.
Second of all, I was going to show him that I had stamina and determination, and whatever else he threw in there.
Third of all, why did he even care?
Fourth of all, I stabbed the King of Hybern. So there. I think that I’d already proven my mettle, however, apparently it wasn’t enough for the almighty Shadowsinger.
“Fine, what do we do?” I asked irritably. “How does this training work?”
“Well, we usually start with,” Nesta began saying, her expression that of bemusement and surprise.
“What? Give me a sword and I’ll swing it around,” I requested irreverently.
There was a snort of laughter behind me.
I turned and saw Azriel standing there with that stupid smirk on his face. Who even looked this good at 7:30 in the morning? Didn’t he have anything better to do than hover around us like a bad smell?
“You ain’t getting a sword,” he announced in a flat voice.
“I wasn’t asking you,” I reminded him.
“And I am telling you,” he retorted. “You’ll be lucky you’ll get a butter knife in 5 weeks.”
“Well, if you think that I am going to be doing this for five weeks, you are insane. This is a one-time thing…”
He interrupted,
“Ahh, giving up already?”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at him.
“Why are you even here?” I asked. “I am talking to my sister. And Cassian will be training me. Or Nesta, or…”
“Ohhhh noooo,” he was shaking his head. “Also, stop deflecting.”
“I am not deflecting!” I felt my heckles rise. By the Mother, I couldn’t deal with him and his annoying self for one more minute.
“Come with me,” he all but ordered me.
Was he crazy?
“I am not going anywhere with you!”
He shrugged, as he tended to do.
“Fine. We can do this here, I suppose.”
“Do what?” I asked, exasperated.
“Start the training,” he said simply.
“Why are you involved in this at all?” I couldn't understand why he kept talking and interfering. This was between me and Nesta.
“I train all the novices,” he explained.
“No you don’t! Cassian will train me. Or Nesta.”
“Sorry, but you don’t make the rules here, princess,” he chuckled.
“I am not aiming to make the rules,” I reminded him. “I am simply stating that,”
“That you will be training with me,” he cut me off, his tone allowing no arguments.
Panicking, I nevertheless argued with him.
“Cassian trained Nesta! And Gwyn and Emerie!”
“That was before. You are too late. Now all novices train with me, and then get moved to Cassian.”
“What about Nesta?” I pleaded, a horrifying note of desperation in my voice.
I couldn’t. I simply couldn’t train with him! I didn’t want to. I wouldn’t survive. I didn’t want the proximity either.
“Calm down,” he waved a lazy hand at me. “I am not here to ravish you.”
Heat creeped up my cheeks.
An unwanted memory of that kiss from last Solstice popped into my head, uninvited. I didn’t want to reminisce about that. It was awful and humiliating. The moment he told me that I was a mistake. That me wanting him to kiss me was a mistake. That we were a mistake.
I mean, who even says that to someone’s face? If the idea of kissing me was so repugnant to him, he could’ve just made an excuse and walked away. But saying ‘this is a mistake’? Those words hurt me even more than when Graysen rejected me. At least Graysen had a reason. Azriel sort of led me on, at least I felt that he definitely displayed interest, which wasn’t exactly ‘brotherly’ and that I was correct in reading him. Apparently not.
“I can train Elain!” Gwyn’s exuberant voice jolted me.
She was bouncing on her toes with excitement at the prospect and saying, “Azriel, can’t I? If you don’t want to, I can absolutely do the basic training! I want to!”
Her voice rose with every sentence, excitement bubbling and at the end, she was almost shouting.
“Gwyneth,” he turned to her and his tone was stern. “You are not in a position to train novices yet.”
“I am a Carynthian,” she reminded him feebly, her freckled face burning at his rebuke.
“Be it as it may, it does not mean that you are ready or have had proper instruction on how to train new recruits. Your status and achievements are irrelevant in this case. Please step aside and continue your own routine, or I will have you running laps!”
Gwyn huffed, but did not argue.
I felt embarrassed.
He was awful.
Especially when he looked down at me and briskly ordered “follow me”.
Considering how crazy he was acting, I figured that following him was the smartest thing I could do under the circumstances.
“What a prick you are,” I muttered under my breath, not caring if he heard me. I kind of hoped that he did.
He turned abruptly and glared at me.
“All you need to do is listen to me, do what I say and we’ll have a lovely training session,” he said lightly. “I don’t require any additional commentary from you about my methods or my character.”
I warned him, “you cannot speak to me the way you talk to Gwyn!”
“Don’t give me a reason to, and I won’t,” was all he said.
We crossed the ring and stood on the other side of everyone else. The priestesses were gathering around Cassian.
I suddenly felt horribly self-conscious, knowing that everyone was probably going to be watching us. Again I questioned why I had agreed to this.
“Shoes, off,” he jerked his head towards my feet.
“What?” I balked. “No.”
Sighing exaggeratedly, he said, “and why not, may I ask?”
“I don't want to be barefoot. And…and it’s dirty,” I complained.
“It isn’t. I can assure you.”
“I don’t want to,”
“Is everything going to be an argument?” he groaned.
And then suddenly, he dropped on one knee in front of me.
Alarmed, I stepped back, not understanding what he wanted and what he was doing.
He didn’t explain either–typical of him–but instead, began to pull on my boot laces. He untied the knot and then began loosening the laces.
“I can do this myself,” I protested, trying to balance myself and not fall back. He didn’t respond, but only untied my other boot and then gently wrapped his big, warm hand over the back of my calf.
Azriel
Oh, she liked that. Probably not as much as I did, but she liked it nonetheless.
Not so contrary anymore.
I cupped her ankle in my hand and then carefully lifted her leg and pulled the boot off. She flexed her toes inside her sock, and I removed it as well, dropping it inside the boot. Her foot was small and pale. I’ve seen it before. I just never touched it. She had pretty toes and they were painted a bright red varnish.
“Stand still,” I murmured, as I worked the other boot and sock off. I took my time. Whether she realised it or not, didn’t matter. I held her legs in my hands, I stroked her ankles, pretending like it was accidental and once she was barefoot, I pressed my hand over her feet, steadying her on the stone floor.
“It’s cold,” she whispered, moving her toes under my warm hand.
I looked up at her. Her breasts were rising and falling rapidly beneath her red jumper. And Cauldron help me, but I could see the outline of her nipples beneath the material. Whether it was the cold and my proximity to her, or my touch, I couldn’t be sure what was causing the reaction, but whatever it was, I was enjoying it. And I hoped that it was indeed my touch on her skin.
I realised a while back that she had an aversion to being dirty. When she was puttering in the dirt in her gardens, that was acceptable. That was something that she could control. Otherwise, I figured that any other dirt reminded her of her years of poverty and she avoided mud and being splattered with anything dirty, and didn’t like touching it either.
I got up from the floor and she watched me cautiously.
“What are we going to do?” she asked at last.
Wordlessly, I toed off my own boots and her eyes lit up. It didn’t take much to make this girl happy.
“Are you going to give me a sword?” she asked eagerly.
“No.”
“Why not? A dagger then?”
“No.”
“What can I use then?” she frowned.
“Before you go and hack someone to death, why don’t we start with the basics?” I suggested.
“Basics are stupid,” she pouted.
“Basics are necessary,” I told her. “Bend and touch your toes.”
She offered an obnoxious eye roll and did what I said. I chose not to react to her attitude and just observed her in silence.
“Lower,” I ordered. “Don’t bend your knees.”
“I am not bending my knees,” she argued, as she struggled to keep her knees straight.
“You are,” and I squatted in front of her and placed my hand at the back of her knees. “See?”
“That’s just how they are! They aren’t bent!” she insisted, panting a bit.
“Uh uh,” I mumbled in response. “Now stand up straight.”
She quickly straightened. Her cheeks were red.
“This is your famous training?” she challenged, putting her hands on her hips.
“Oh, you think it’s easy?” I chuckled. Truly she was Nesta’s sister. I sometimes forgot. She reminded me.
She shrugged, “Doesn’t seem too difficult. Considering that I am a Kingslayer and all…”
I struggled not to laugh at her boasting.
“That was luck,” I said.
“No, that was stealth and precision,” she corrected me.
Stealth and precision.
“Touch your toes. Now, since you think that this is easy, I want you not to only touch them with your fingertips, but place your palms flat on your feet.”
She struggled to complete the task, and didn’t succeed. I knew that she wouldn’t. It took practice.
“You do it!” she commanded angrily once she straightened out.
I did. Easily. Wordlessly.
I placed my hands flat, directly in front of me on the stone floor, folding myself in two.
My reward was her muttering ‘show off’.
“Do ten in a row and then we’ll move on to the next exercise,” I said to her.
“I am not doing it alone,” she protested immediately. “You do it with me.”
I didn’t mind it at all and nodded.
She was raging and huffing the entire time, with every count, when I said ‘one, hold, and straighten. Two, hold, and straighten…”
She was bending her knees, and only barely touching her toes, but I let it slide.
Her ass looked magnificent every time she bent and I couldn’t be bothered to correct her terrible form. Her tapered waist slid into her perfectly rounded hips and I took a nice position in front of her, so I could watch how her bottom blossomed into a lovely heart-shaped bow.
“Last one,” I warned. She was red and panting and her braid was all messy. “Come up slowly, rolling your back.”
She shot up straight, totally ignoring my instructions.
“Ten sets is nothing,” I informed her. “We normally do fifty-six at one time.”
“Did you ever consider that you are psychotic?” she pondered seriously.
“Every day,” I assured her.
“At least you are self-aware.”
“Have you done a plank before?” I queried, having a grand old time. I loved winding her up and her retorts were amazing. I’d have to gift Nesta a cheese platter or a fruit basket, to thank her for inviting her ornery sister to training.
“I am a lady,” Elain announced haughtily. “I don’t do planks!’
“Your sisters do,”
“I am not my sisters. I am a lady,” she repeated.
“Would the lady oblige me and show me a plank?” I sketched a bow.
“Why must I?”
“So I can gauge your core’s strength.”
“I can assure you, my core is plenty strong.”
“Come on,” I jerked my head downwards. “I don’t have all day to bandy civilities with you. On the floor.”
“You are so awful. I am not a dog!” she seethed.
“No, you are a difficult trainee. And like I told Gwyn, if you will continue arguing with me, I will make you run laps around the ring. Got it?”
I placed my hand on the small of her back and gently urged her down. She gritted her teeth, but slowly lowered herself on her knees and then propped herself on her elbows.
I wasn’t exactly hating the view from here, Elain on her knees in front of me, but even more than that, I liked it when she listened to me and obeyed my commands.
“Slowly stretch your legs and push on your toes,” I said. It wasn’t right that I was helping her, but I couldn’t help myself. I held the back of her head, and then squatted next to her and helped her extend her legs.
Across the ring, I felt the priestesses and Cassian and Nesta and Gwyn and Emerie observing us. My Fae hearing allowed me to listen to their whispers.
He never helps me like that!
Well, that’s because I am not in love with you.
That’s more touching in 3 minutes than he’s done in two years!
Well, that’s because I enjoy touching her.
I can’t believe he is even helping her with a plank!
He never helped us
There was a lot of complaining and moaning.
I didn’t care.
I watched her stretch in front of me and do the plank. She winced at the pressure in her arms, but held on.
“How long do I have to do this?” she moaned.
“It’s not a matter of how long you need to, but how long you will. And you won’t last long,” I was being a dick, but she enjoyed a challenge.
“You’ll be surprised,” she gritted through her teeth.
“I would be, if you did more than 30 seconds.”
“Are you counting?” she yelled, shaking and grimacing.
“I am.”
“How long has it been?”
“Nineteen seconds.”
“No way!” she cried.
“But you already beat Nesta, so there is that. Hips down.”
“They are down!”
“No. Lower. Parallel to the floor.”
“By the Cauldron, they are down!” she yelled.
“No need to scream.”
I stooped and then, after a brief hesitation, pushed on her lower back.
She stilled and then looked at me.
“What are you doing?”
“Correcting your form,” I hedged. “Do you feel the difference? Keep it like that.”
She was breathing hard, but she was already at 43 seconds.
“Come on, you can do a minute!” I cheered.
She moaned.
“How long can you do?”
“I don’t know,”
“Yes you do! How long?”
“Well, the longest plank I’ve done was 37 minutes but I stopped because I got bored. I could easily go for an hour, but I ain’t got time for that!”
At that point she collapsed on her belly.
“How long?” she grunted.
“1:07. Very good!”
I was honestly surprised.
I expected maybe 20 seconds. The fact that she managed over a minute was impressive. Nesta’s and Emerie’s average time was 1 minute 30 seconds. Gwyn, always the overachiever, typically managed a minute and 45 seconds. But they fancied themselves Carynthians.
I had no opinion on the matter. All I can say is that if you have magic and weapons during the Blood Rite, you aren’t exactly a full fledged Carynthian. But that’s just me.
She turned on her back and looked at me. She didn’t look as hostile as before. Her eyes were glittering, and the apples of her cheek were pink. Her expression seemed satisfied. Happy almost.
After a long pause, she extended her hand to me.
“Congratulations,” I said. “You beat Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn for your first plank.”
I clasped her small cold hand and slowly helped her up.
From across the ring, I heard more whispers.
He actually gave her his hand! I can’t believe it. He wouldn’t do it even when I passed the Blood Rite Qualifier! It was Gwyn complaining.
Yeah, Nesta responded lazily. He always touches her. Too much.
That’s where Nesta was wrong.
I didn’t touch Elain, especially not ‘too much’. I avoided it. I wanted to. I needed to. But I consciously prevented myself from doing so.
The thing between Elain and me was complicated. It was especially vexing because of how our powers merged and responded to each other. I’d felt it first, very acutely, when I was carrying her in my arms when we were escaping from Hybern. When she was hitting the naga with her feet, trying to protect us. I’d never felt such a rush, even if it was muted by the gorsian chains that she was wearing. It strummed and poured over me, so powerful, it took my breath away. It was something that I’d never experienced with anyone, not even with Rhys or Cassian. It was delicious and overwhelming, nearly sexual in the pleasure that it offered. When we finally landed outside the war camp, all I needed was for those damn chains to be removed from her, so I could feel that glorious power again, merging with mine.
That chance came sooner than I expected. Just a couple of days later, when I handed her Truth Teller. I wrapped her fingers around the hilt and my blade sang in response. It was like it was meeting an old friend. It wasn’t alien, it wasn’t tortured. A reunion. I still didn’t know what it meant, other than I suspected that because she was Made, my Made dagger called out to her. But that didn’t explain me. Why I reacted the way that I did to her power? Why it felt so good. So right.
So no, Nesta was incorrect. I didn’t touch Elain frequently. Or ‘a lot’. In fact, I only touched her when the need became unbearable and I couldn’t stand it anymore. When my hands burned, actually burned, with need, that’s when I touched her.
“What’s next?” she asked, sounding kind of excited.
“Balancing.”
“Balancing?” She made a face.
“Are you going to be a problem for me?” I looked at her and asked sternly.
She smirked and retorted, “Oh, I am the whole problem!”
Yeah, wasn’t that the truth.
“Alright,” I scrubbed my hand over my face. Her nearness was wrecking havoc on my psyche and my dick just wouldn’t calm down no matter how I tried. Now, she was holding my hand–still holding it–and that delicious flow of power seeped from her skin and into my flesh, it was even more difficult. I guessed that she didn’t want to release my hand for the same reason–it felt good to her just as it did to me.
Snowflakes, sparse and soft, began falling from the darkening sky. Elain looked up, then stuck her tongue out and caught one or two, whilst I wanted to lick them off her tongue.
“Is it over?” She looked at me, and I wasn’t sure what she was asking.
Training? Us? Something else?
I wasn’t sure but I knew that the answer was going to be ‘no’. An unequivocal ‘no.’ Whatever it was, we weren’t over. We would never be. We were written in the Cauldron’s swirling eddies. In the breath of the Mother. In the magic of the Cauldron. In the stars. In the earth. In our magic. We were written with Forever in mind.
“No,” I said.
She hummed.
“And if I want it to be?”
“You don’t,” I told her confidently. Then, unable to help myself, I smoothed my hand over her hair, tucking a strand into her messy braid.
We stood in silence for a long time, my hand resting on her hip and the other holding her hand. The snow was falling softly. Even from here, I could see the lights of Velaris, glittering with pre-Solstice decorations.
Another Solstice.
The first one was glorious. The next, awful. What will this one bring?
The spell was broken by Cassian and Nesta’s bickering on the other side of the ring. Elain glanced their way, and then extended her hand, catching snowflakes in it.
“Cassian says that they don’t train in bad weather,” she said.
I frowned at her words and asked coldly.
“Cassian said.”
“Yes,” she began saying something else, but I interrupted.
“And what did I say?”
“Umm, that we are not done yet,” she mumbled.
“Exactly. You should be listening to what I say, not to what Cassian says.”
“But,”
“There are no buts. You do as I say. Not some other male.”
She blinked at me, and just when I thought that I might have pushed it too far, she nodded shyly and breathed, “yes”.
My male pride rose in my chest. Gods, I loved it when she submitted to me. Like she did when I almost kissed her last Solstice. When I turned her head the way I wanted it.
“Well then, stand flat on one foot,” I instructed. “Lift your other leg as high as it would go. Raise your arms above your head and see how long you can balance like that.”
She did as she was told, though she immediately careened and wobbled on one foot.
“Hold still. Don’t think about it and try to relax your body,”
“Easy for you to say,” she muttered.
“Try closing your eyes.”
“I’ll fall!”
“I’ll catch you.”
Elain
He caught me.
His proximity was very distracting, so the moment I closed my eyes, I felt myself leaning sideways and right before I began to flail, his hands clasped around my waist and he steadied me.
We never did much by way of touching. We exchanged glances, brushes of fingers here and there. Nothing more than that. Somehow, it felt too overwhelming, too torturous. Once we started, it was impossible to stop. The pull was too strong. So we’ve been cautious.
But when his skin made contact with mine, I could barely think. Particularly when his fingers dug into the flesh of my stomach, and his thumbs skimmed my back.
“Steady,” he breathed into my ear, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine which I was unable to hide. “Relax your limbs, your arms. Don’t think about falling. Simply concentrate on grounding yourself.”
I tried to do as he said. When I did, I noticed that he became noticeably more…pliant. As if when I did something he asked, he sort of melted. Softened. Became more amorous? I am not sure if I was misreading the signs, but despite his hurtful words from a year ago, he wasn’t acting like he felt that we were a mistake.
The snow began falling heavier, think clumps of it falling onto the stone floor. The sky hung low and the colour of granite. The wind had picked up and it howled around us. This high up, it was cold.
The priestesses were gathering their things, draping their robes over their shoulders and veils over their heads. Some chatted quietly.
I approached my sister and her friends.
“So, how was it?” Gwyn was first to ask.
“Did you like it?” Emerie added.
“It was…challenging,” I admitted. It was. My muscles were sore. I was tired, but also energised.
“He is very hard,” Gwyn nodded, sighing. “I actually prefer Cassian as a trainer. Don’t tell him,” and she quickly glazed behind her, to make sure that Cassian wasn’t in an earshot, “but Cassian is kinder. He is more forgiving. He is encouraging. Azriel is strict, to say the least.”
“That he is,” I confirmed. Though I didn’t feel like he was any different from how he usually was. Hard and unyielding, but tender and careful. Or perhaps, that’s how he was with me. I wasn’t sure.
“I agree with Gwyn,” Emerie said. “Illyrians, all the soldiers, all the troops groan when Azriel arrives at the camps to train. They know that play time is over.”
I laughed.
I could see that.
“Hey Elain,” Azriel’s deep, beautiful, smooth voice came from behind me and I turned to him. Everyone seemed to look at us. He was moving slowly across the ring, tugging his jacket over his broad shoulders. His wings were pressed tightly behind him, but not in a severe way, like they were sometimes. He seemed relaxed.
“Yeah?” I answered.
His smirk was mischievous.
“Care to come with me one of these days for a hot chocolate? Extra whipped chocolate. Grated chocolate on top?”
I smiled. He knew my order. Because of course he did.
Everyone was watching us. I nodded and said,
“Yeah, Azriel. I’d like that.”