The two of them stood by the edge of the training ring, shoulder to shoulder as they examined the Valkyries techniques in hand to hand combat. Molten flames of hair swung through the air as Gwyneth dodged one of Emerie’s blows. The priestess had improved a lot these last couple months, part due to the Blood Rite, but mainly to her sheer and relentless determination. Even so, Azriel dared saying, that she quickly became the top of the class. Graceful and elegant and yet, deadly in every move.
Much like him, but he wasn’t yet aware of it. Of how similar they were, even if opposites in many ways. He wished he had her openness and honesty, her inherent joy and hope towards the world, after being through so much harm.
But Azriel knew better. He knew how irredeemable he was, after all he’d done. How someone like her could never love someone like him, not in the way he truly wished to be. He would never put her in this position, for she deserved so much more. So he shouldn’t waste time thinking about her that way, a task seemingly more and more difficult with each passing day.
“Bro, are you even listening?”
Cassian’s loud accusation rang through his ears. He eyed his brother briefly and hummed absently, mind still far away, but managed to focus back on the girls fighting before them:
“Widen your stance!” He shouted to Gwyn as she prepared to attack.
“Yes, sir!” She spat back, but did as he said.
He fighted the urge to smile as he observed her, focused and panting with the effort, but always keeping that irreverent charm and light. Her skin was glowing in the mid-morning sun that shone far above, her freckles even more apparent from across the ring. Forty-five in total, donning her forehead, cheeks, and nose.
A powerful sight to behold.
“Answer me, dickhead.”
He scoffed, shaking his head. Cassian.
He had forgotten about his presence next to him. Arms crossed, he turned to the General to find him with a smug grin on display. A bad sign.
“What.” He grunted.
“What about Gwyn?” Cassian raised one brow, still smirking.
At that, Azriel furrowed his brows, his stare automatically turning to her. Her posture was correct, her speed fast as lighting… He heard how Cassian’s grin turned into a soft chuckle, as if he was in on a private joke Azriel was clearly excluded from.
“Brother, look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t have feelings for Gwyn.”
But the shadowsinger was already gone. For she had chosen this exact time to turn to him and burst into a smile; a wide, victorious smile that could outshine the sun above, and all of Prythian with it. Her forty five freckles greeted him cheerfully as she extended her arms to the sky in a victory pose, laughing out loud as Emerie groaned and called her names, bent with a hand in her stomach.
The smile that he managed to contain before this time showed itself without his consent. As it always seemed to eventually, where she was concerned.
“I don’t have feelings for Gwyn”, he heard himself muttering, even if the world tuned off for she was coming closer and closer, still smiling warmly at him. Those copper waves moving from side to side with each step. About to gloat about winning, he knew.
But he didn’t care.
Even if what he just said was complete and utter bullshit.
Cassian’s voice now was merely an echo:
“Az, you’re not looking anywhere near my eyes”.
And indeed he wasn’t.
All he had eyes for was her.
Hey guys… I guess I’m back? Not having much time to write lately but hey, just saw this post and wrote this on a whim! Please tell me your thoughts and if you want to be tagged in my tag list!
Cauldron, he had an ounce of pride at some point, hadn’t he?
He had led armies and made full grown warriors beg. And now he was a breath away from begging. From falling to his knees for a taste, a touch of her skin.
But she wasn’t here for him. And the male who stood behind her, tall and straight as an arrow, glared daggers at Cassian.
