Chapter Text
Azriel had only been to the library once before, and never so deep to be at the priestess’ apartments. Even now, it felt wrong to be here in their space, but when he told Gwyn at training that he finally found something he thought she’d like, she invited him. Even with Clotho insisting it was okay, this was theirs, and he had to tread incredibly lightly.
One knock was all it took, Azriel hearing Gwyn’s feet pad across to open the door. He expected her to still be in her priestess robes, so when she answered in a dark blue shift that shimmered in the faelights of her room, he paused for a moment. The navy emboldened the redness of her hair, as well as the dotting of her freckles.
“You made it,” she said, beaming even as he shook himself out of his stillness. He swallowed, then nodded, slipping her gift out of his pocket and letting it glitter before her. He’d switched the delicate chain for a fine leather cord, the rose replaced with a moon formed out of several tiny white gemstones, the pair of sapphires below it cut in arcs to mimic ocean waves. The piece’s reflection spun in her teal gaze, widening at the beauty of it. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, Azriel initially moving to place it in her hand, before she turned around and brushed her hair over her neck.
The echo of a similar situation struck him, at the bottom of stone stairs with a different throat being laid bare before him. Gwyn’s straight hair flashed to wavy brown curls, and Azriel felt himself pause one more, as if…what he was doing was wrong.
It wasn’t, in truth. He hadn’t committed to Elain, not the way he wanted, especially since Rhysand had put his foot down regarding it. The whole situation burned him, only moving at the slight shift of Gwyn glancing at him. He stopped forward, careful to let his hand not brush her skin, before clasping the piece around her neck. She twisted it in her hand with gentle reverence, before looking up at him.
“You really do have good taste.” Azriel shrugged, Gwyn gesturing for him to come in before closing the door. “Thanks for coming.”
“No problem at all,” he said, taking in the decor of her room. A large plant sat the corner, flowers bearing white petals that slightly glowed, the rest of the space outfitted with an armoire, a chair, table, and a bed he knew he would fall asleep in the second he laid in it. A washroom was attached, along with a great window that was veiled by night-blue curtains formed of velvet. Brushing a hand over its smooth texture, he turned to face her. “It does…admittedly feel strange being here.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. Az splayed his hands out.
“I don’t want to make the priestesses uncomfortable. This is their space.” Gwyn shrugged.
“They come to your space to train.”
“You know what I mean,” Azriel chuckled, Gwyn nodding with a wistful sigh.
“I do.” Gwyn moved to sit on the bed, hands gently wringing one another as she moved onto what she truly wanted to talk about. “So…I’ve been thinking about the kiss. I…can’t stop thinking about it actually.” Her eyes kept on Azriel’s lips as she spoke, “And thank you again for letting me do that. I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable.”
“Not at all,” he replied, “It was…nice, for a first kiss.” Winking at her, her eyes fled to the covers in shyness.
“I’d like to try more…if you don’t mind.” Azriel narrowed his eyes.
“Try more?” Gwyn’s nod was slow, followed by a harsh breath tearing out of her.
“Azriel. When you got hurt, how long did it take you to be able to be around fire?” Azriel blinked, overwhelmed by the sheer thought of trying to mine back through the centuries. Even now, he hated fire, but he could stand to be in its presence for pragmatic purposes. In his younger years, when other Illyrians came at him with torches or candles in jest, he’d beat them to a bloody, unrecognizable pulp. Now, no one came close with even a match.
“Years,” he replied, keeping it simple as he always did, “I couldn’t stand heat.” Gwyn listened, eyes darting to his hands, to the coiling, warped burns that coated them.
“I don’t want to have to wait years,” she responded, gaze distant. “I’m tired of being afraid of…” Gwyn shook her head, brushing a stand of hair behind her ear, “I feel. I want. But every time I think about it by myself, try to…explore, the memories come up.” The priestess shyed into herself, eyes shooting to every direction that wasn’t Azriel’s. “I figured that if I had someone to help, someone I trust, maybe I could…beat it.” Her lip pursed, but Azriel remained silent. “Please, if you don’t want to, tell me. I just figured I’d ask you because…well—”
“Carynthian,” Azriel stated, voice matter-of-fact even as Gwyn blinked in confusion.
“What?”
“If at any time you feel scared, uncomfortable, or for any other reason you want to stop? Say the word ‘Carynthian’ and we’ll cease immediately.” There was a slight pause before Azriel realized, he hadn’t actually answered her. “And…yes. I’ll help in anyway I can.” He chuffed, “I probably should have said that part first.” Gwyn smiled, but something pulled it back from a full beaming.
“You’ll stop? Even if we’re…deep in it? I know males usually—” Azriel stepped in front of her, finger lightly grazing Gwyn’s chin as he pulled her gaze up to his.
“Gwyn, the second you tell me to stop. I will stop. You don’t owe a male—hell, anyone—anything, no matter how far you may go with…intimacy.” He released her chin, thumb brushing her cheek, ”If you want it, and suddenly, you don’t want it? It stops. I promise.” A slight shimmer rippled over her gaze, Azriel sitting beside her on the bed before resting his hand on hers.
“What we do here,” she started, “We can keep it secret—away from the training yard. I don’t want to be like Cassian and Nesta.” Azriel snorted. “They just…couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Entire days of practices would be lost sometimes.”
“Believe me, I get it. I was there too, remember?” Azriel’s smile softened, mind looking to close up any holes in this…situation they were about to enter into. “Can I ask you a question?”
Gwyn nodded, “Absolutely.”
“Is this really just experimenting, or…do you want something more?” Gwyn blinked, so Azriel clarified, “With us?” Her cheeks puffed as she thought, and Azriel wanted to kiss them right then and there. Cauldron boil him, he’d kiss every freckle he could find, his shadows skittering and goading him even as he remained stoic and unmoving.
“Honestly, Az. I don’t know. That’s kind of one of the reasons why I feel like I need to do this. I genuinely don’t know.” Gwyn turned her hand over, fingers interlacing with his, “I…really like you. You push me to never give up, you had faith in me to beat the Rite, you’re respectful of me and the other priestesses. Nesta sees you as a trusted friend, too. But…I just don’t know enough about love or attraction or…sex, to decide how I feel. If that makes you not want to…”
“I want too, I just wanted to be clear on the boundaries. Lack of communication is exactly how you get Cassian and Nesta.” The two of them laughed, Azriel slipping his hand out of hers and making a point to show her keeping both pressed to his thighs. “Want me to keep my hands down?”
“For now,” Gwyn said, her hand reaching up bury her fingers in his short, black waves.
Az smiled, “Well, feel free to—” Her lips chased away his words, the kiss much harder than the previous one as she gripped the back of his head softly. Fingers flexing, he clenched them to his kneecaps, until the slight prod of her tongue made them stray slight off his pants. It was clumsy. Exploratory. She was learned what felt right and what she liked, and he let his own mouth open slightly so as to let his tongue rush softly against hers.
“You can touch me,” she whispered between kisses, his hand floating gently to her waist. He felt her tense, but she kept on going, his other hand caressing the length of her jaw. Eventually, she parted from him, and her hands shook as they left the brush of his dark curls, reaching for the ties of her blue robe. Azriel let himself glide into the slopes of her neck, planting small kisses that made her sigh, releasing breathy moans as her fingers fumbled with the knot. She stilled, Azriel’s lips feeling her neck flutter as she swallowed. Pulling back, he saw her hands flexing right over her lap, the edge of her freckled thigh peeking out as she sighed.
“Sorry,” she said, hugging herself slightly, “I just…I’ve never been…naked in front of someone before. It’s…”
“Scary,” Azriel finished for her, shifting to kneel in front of her and rest his hands on her knees,“There’s options, Gwyn. You don’t have to be naked. We can stop. We can keep it over the clothes. Whatever you want.” Gwyn bit her lip, pondering, and it made Azriel just want to kiss her more. But he kept still, inclining his head to her. “Carynthian?”
“No,” she answered, almost immediately, “I want to keep going.” Azriel nodded, stroking his chin before settling on a small idea.
“If nakedness is what you’re struggling with, would you let me try something?” Gwyn’s lip twitched, but she nodded, Azriel taking her hands into hers and softly laying her down onto her back. The robe’s edge rode up slightly, the pale length of her neck reddening as she tensed, knowing that if she moved in a certain way, Azriel would see all of her.
Rather than peel back the fabric further, Azriel trailed a line of kisses up Gwyn’s thigh, hands kneading the skin softly as he went. “You’re so soft,” he mused, halting at the highest point of her thigh. Her neck craned down, eyes meeting his, the growing width of her pupils telling him that at least some part of her was enjoying it, even if there was an ambient fear. “I’d like to pleasure you with my mouth, Gwyn. Will you let me do that?” Shudders snaked through her, but she nodded, Azriel’s thumb curling the lip of her robe up, exposing the subtle, glistening wetness of her entrance.
It took everything for Azriel to chain his desire, to only inch close and grace it with a soft kiss, rather than ravish and devour her like he wanted, like he always had when it came to his nameless, sometimes faceless lovers. His lips pressed to the outer most labia, before another lay gently against her clit, and at that, Gwyn shook her head and pulled her legs up. Azriel put space between them, watching carefully as she covered up and curled herself, embarrassed at what she felt was her cowardice.
“I’m sorry,” she said through panting breaths, “I want it but…I don’t, I think.” A frustrated growl escaped her, fist pounding into the bed, “I don’t know.”
“Hey.” She glanced at him, “It’s okay. We’re just experimenting.” Azriel’s eyes flicked over to the armoire, and he got a brilliant idea. He had come to learn that her body tensed at touch, but only when he was touching her. When she approached and kissed him on her terms, she was fine, hungry even, but the second he moved his hands and tongue over her, she began to retreat.
“I’ve got it.” Standing up, he walked over to the set of priestess robes neatly folded on the armoire, and picked up the silk rope she used to tie it at her waist. At the sight of him stretching it to full length, Gwyn’s eyes widened.
“What’re you going to do with that?” Azriel turned to her, smirking.
“Me? Nothing. But you?” He pulled the chair beside the armoire out and faced it toward her. “You, are going to tie me to the chair.”
“What?” she reiterated, almost shocked.
“If I’m tied up, I can’t touch you. I may be tempted to, but I won’t be able to do a damn thing, and you’ll be free to touch me all you want.” Azriel then unbuttoned his shirt.
It took sometime, but with his careful guidance, Gwyn knotted his hands behind his back, tying them to the chair’s frame with little room for him to maneuver. It was cute, watching her fumble with the knots when he had been tied with weavings so intricate, his lovers managed to even bind his wings in lovely designs of silk rope. Gwyn rounded the chair and stood before him.
“Like that?” she asked, Azriel shifting to move his arms, and only getting an inch of leeway.
He nodded to her, “Excellent.” Gwyn smiled, and Azriel leaned back, letting his muscles and tattoos flex as if to invite her to safely indulge. “You have free reign, Berdara.”
Azriel expected her to go back to kissing, maybe run her hands over his abs and shoulders, or even straddle him as she graced his lips with her gentle touch. But instead, her eyes fell to his waist, and partially eager hands began working the snap free before peeling the cloth back.
“Whoa,” she said, Azriel’s soft but generous length spilling out. “It’s so big.” The shadow-singer had to keep his wings from perking up, knowing that his considerable size had been the topic of many, many conversations amongst the Inner Circle. His thoughts jittered as he felt her hand take him, softly stroking the whole of his cock in careful wonder. “In the books, they usually just…stroke it, right?”
“That’s one of many ways to pleasure someone…yes.” he replied, voice tight as she stroked him again.
“How do you like it?” she asked, eyes wide as if wanting to please. Azriel tilted his head for her to keep on, feeling her grip tighten just a little too much.
“Softer, with a bit more pressure as you get to the tip.”
Gwyn adjusted, “Like this?” Her other hand pulled the pants open more before resting against his pelvis.
“Just a little more firm.” Her grip hardened slightly, and at her next pull, Azriel felt waves of pleasure ripple out from him. “There you go. Perfect.” Azriel heaved at her movements, feeling his cock grow thicker and harder in her beautiful hands.
“It’s so hard.” Gwyn swallowed, marveling at the erection once it reached full mast. A part of her wondered how a female could even hope to have such a thing inside of her, as if it would split her in half.
“All for you,” Azriel said, not realizing it until the words had already left him. Gwyn licked her lips, mesmerized by the sight of him throbbing in her hands, inching ever so slightly before opening her mouth. Her tongue grazed over his head, once again exploring and testing to see how things went. Azriel laughed, then gasped, feeling her lick that sweet spot right at the underside of his cock’s head. From there, she let her tongue sear him the length and back up, lips then growing flush when she took him deep into her mouth. “Gwyn…” he breathed, seeing she could only fit half of him in her throat, bobbing her head back and forth as moans escaped her full mouth. A part of him expected the sharp edge of teeth, but either she picked up quick on how that wouldn’t feel particularly good, or the books Nesta and Emerie gave her were more thorough than he thought.
A small pop sounded as she slid her lips off his cock, Az’s chest rising and falling as he smiled. “Having fun?” She nodded at his question, before the priestess glanced down at the space between her legs. Suddenly, Gwyn stood back and seated herself on the bed, legs spreading wide to reveal her pussy once more to him.
It was slick and shimmering, fingers instantly coated in it as she slid down and began to make careful, slow strokes. Her eyes never left him, left his cock or his muscles or his gaze, and the circling began to hasten faster and faster. Gwyn kneaded her breast through her robes, unable to chase after her pleasure fast enough now that she had no fear. Azriel couldn’t touch her, couldn’t rise up and hurt her. She could finally indulge in that desire with no fear of sudden hands on her. Gwyn’s pelvis shot up, moaning before she slid her fingers into herself, thumb carrying on the work of teasing her clit.
“Az. Azriel…fuck, I—!” The shadow-singer could do nothing but watch her orgasm thunder out of her, hair falling over her face in luscious waves. She was an animal uncaged, feral and hungry with the space and freedom to finally hunt. She was a goddess, her robes loosening to reveal her entire body to him, freckled curves all framed in the muscles he helped her forge. Thin scars lined the side of her body, ending right underneath her lush, full breasts, Azriel feeling his heart quicken as she came down.
Her lips curled back as she opened her eyes, Az barely able to speak before she stood up and straddled his body with a renewed vigor. The robe slipped from her shoulders entirely, the priestess—the Valkyrie—utterly naked astride him. Az felt the lips of her vagina grind softly against the top of his cock, snapping it back to attention in seconds. Gwyn reached down, and let his head press against her opening.
“Gwyn, Gwyn. Wait. Slow down,” Azriel urged, Gwyn’s other hand hooking around neck for balance. He met her gaze, finding a storm of hope, joy, and slight fear in it—not the same as she had previously, but a new worry that if she didn’t rush, didn’t take this chance, it would never come again.
“I want it,” she said, voice trembling despite her smile, “I want it, and I’m not scared.” Azriel nodded, more than capable of understanding that want to sprint through the first time, to chase that first feeling of utter bliss and orgasm.
“It’ll hurt if you go too fast,” he cautioned, “Just…go down slowly, inch by inch.” Gwyn sighed, nodding as she relented. Biting her lip, she slowly slid down Azriel’s shaft, nostrils flaring at the feeling of stretching and dull ache. “Slow…” he cooed, “Slow, love.”
Within a minute, Azriel felt himself entirely seated within her hot warmth, and she rocked up and down with her toes carefully perched on the ground for balance. He his head back, teeth gnashing with his wings twitching at every rise and fall, the sound of her legs and rear patting against his thighs beautiful music to his ears. Her pace quickened, feeling her teeth sink gently into the side of his neck, before she whispered in his ear with a pure joy—a freedom.
“I’m fucking you, Azriel. I’m doing it.” Azriel’s wrists flexed, the silk rope holding strong as the end began to roil up inside him.
“You are,” he replied, flickering between pride and restrained. “Gwyn, if you don’t stop, I’m going to cum. I…” his abdomen clenched, trying to slow the sensation, “I can’t do it inside you.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, “Nesta gave me some tea for it.” Azriel shook his head at her, enough that Gwyn’s speed slowed down.
“I don’t want to take the risk,” he urged, thighs tense from blocking the heat brewing inside him. He couldn’t explain it to her, how he never, ever finished inside of a female for fear of producing a bastard. They could track her menses and suck down all the teas they wanted. He would never cum inside of them, no matter how much his body roared for him to do so. “Please,” he begged, Gwyn nodding and sliding himself out of her.
“But I want you to finish.” The genuineness in her voice warmed him, such an utter want to please. Kneeling down before him again, Gwyn made use of the slipperiness she left behind, her strokes sliding faster and harder as Azriel grunted. “I want to see it, Azriel. I want to see you cum.”
Azriel opened his eyes, the sight of her on her knees in front of him—pert breasts bouncing slightly as she stroked his cock, teal eyes glimmering in anticipation. It was too much.
The shadow-singer grit his teeth, orgasm shooting through him like lightning, strings of white bursting from his cock and coating Gwyn as she flinched. Ropes of ivory covered her breasts as she stroked him, lashing up to her collarbone with a little dotting her chin. Euphoria gave way to embarrassment as Azriel saw the mess he had made, even while the primal side of him savored the satisfaction of seeing her covered in his essence.
“Sorry,” he said, watching as Gwyn brushed her thumb and fingers over the streams of seed, fingers pinching and pulling apart in utter curiosity. She noticed his bashfulness, his shame, alleviating it with a small, playful smile.
“Don’t be sorry. Like you said,” she winked, “You couldn’t do a damn thing.”
Azriel chuffed, a laugh mixed with a sigh of relief, “No. I couldn’t.”