The Yrnan rolled her eyes but happily bit the bait. She reached up and began playing with the angel's wings, its feathers, threading her hand through it as she talked. "Well, we can start with your kindness. Selfless, stubborn, and beautiful," she murmured. "And you're adorable, terribly innocent, but not ignorant." Her vision stayed transfixed on Azriel's wings. "You showed me acceptance when I was a downright *ss to you." She shrugged, smiling. "Does that answer your question?"
Azriel laughed. "You weren't an ass. You were just… difficult," she protested. "But that's good to know. Now, I can remind you the next time I'm being an annoyance."
Her smile expanded to a full blown grin, carefree and lighthearted, and very not Iris. "Eh, I was difficult?" She deadpanned, arching a brow. "See, perfect example. Too kind and innocent, calling me 'difficult.'" A shake of her head was her disagreement - she seemed almost offended. "But I love you the way you are."
"I'm not innocent, I just don't like to be hurtful," Azriel protested with a shake of her head. "But I do think I'd be quite disappointed if you didn't love me for being me, so I'll accept it."
She feigned a sigh, opening her mouth but thinking better of it. "Do you think your wounds - are they healing okay? Anything feel off?" The concern was evident in her tone, highlighting how much emotion she hid from a common-viewer.
Azriel sighed. "Yes, I'm fine," she informed Iris, though the wounds all over her body felt quite "off." In Fletan, she muttered, "it's not as though I would tell you otherwise."
Her elf ears perked up, as she cautiously asked, "What was that? You have to tell me if anything feels wrong, okay?"
"It's really nothi - " she stopped, shaking her head. Might as well be honest. "Okay. Well. Literally everything hurts, but I'm trying not to focus on that because I don't like for people such as you to worry about my pain."
It took all of her restraint to not keep her voice at a whisper. "Everything?!" Iris's eyes widened as she tried to make sense of the fact that her angel was in pain. "Is it a bad pain or a sore pain?"
"This is why I didn't want to tell you," she muttered before raising her voice slightly. "It's just - sort of… stab-y? It isn't terrible, or- or anything."
She blinked twice and gaped. "Stab-y? I ask if it's bad or sore, and you reply with stab-y?" The elf works herself to the bridge of hyperventilating, pacing over the ground and wringing her hands. "I just want you to be okay."
"I am, please calm down. A little stabbing never killed anyone," she went silent for a moment. "That, er, was perhaps not the best turn of phrase for me to use, but the core of the statement is that I am not currently dying. I am doing perfectly well, and you really need to stop pacing and calm yourself."
"You," she pointed an accusatory finger at Azriel, "You need to stop dying. Or experiencing near-death experiences. Because I'm tired of experiencing you experiencing those experiences." Her feet would wear a crater into this ground if she kept it up.
"I. Am not. Dying," she stated firmly. "Look." She stood up, wincing slightly, and went over to Iris to grab her by the shoulders. "I am not dying," she repeated calmly.
Flinging her hands out, Iris glared. “Fine. You need to rest.” She pushed her angel gently back in the chair, only to resume her pacing. “I wonder if we have anything that would numb the pain, safely.”
"It really isn't that bad. I really am fine," Azriel protested, standing up again to stop Iris. "But you are going to break a hole in Clare's bag."
"You're going to break yourself with your constant motions. You need to rest," she fired back, though her pacing halted. She sighed, sitting down again. "Can you wrap your wing around me?" Iris requested, shyly.
Azriel gave her a small smile and stretched her wings out before wrapping one around Iris.
Thank gods, now I have confirmation that my angel won't be moving. Her eyes fluttered shut and a small, content smile resided onto her lips as she relaxed into Azriel's wings, enjoying the silence.
(i've been debating whether or not i should bother sharing this little tidbit of info but at this point i'm just gonna throw everything at you i guess. eherm. Fun fact: Elves are one of the few races who only fall in love once. like…they have crushes but if they fall in love with someone they can't move on so if that person doesn't return their feelings then they're doomed to be alone for the rest of their 5 centuries. same thing if their partner dies. Another fun fact: I gave some of the races this quality not because it's romantic but because it adds another layer of suffering that was unnecessary but necessary at the same time…anyway I'm just gonna go back to lurking)
Clare tied her bag back around her waist and sent Mira after Bella, she sat on the ground and rubbed her eyes's, she was just so exhausted. It wouldn't hurt if she closed her eye's for just a moment or two… just a..minute… Clare's eye's drifted close before she snapped them back open. No, she had to keep the fire's going, or they would freeze, Bella would Freeze, she would freeze.
(It is taking all my will power not to laugh right now! Iris and Azriels relationship! I can’t even right now!)
(Reblod… good to know. So this applies to Iris, then, meaning she can’t love anyone else?)
Arabella slowly stumbled outside and dropped to her knees on the cold hard ground. Trembling fingers raked through the dirt, upturning it and gathering it into a pile. She had to make things right. She kept making the pile bigger and bigger. What if she lost control again? Bella looked out into the distance. If she ran- no one would ever get hurt again. By her at least. No one believed her when she tried to run before, but now. She had to leave. Her pile of dirt was quite large now and easy for Clare to bring into the cave. She slowly rose from the ground and began to walk away. As she regained her balance and her pounding head began to feel better, she began to run. It was torture, but nothing like the torture she put Azriel through. This running was necessary.
(Goddammit, Arabella.)