A Song of Ice & Shadow

Just when Y/n had settled down and thought the cramps had finally subdued, another wave of pain shot through her. Right on cue, Azriel returned, another cup of tea in hand. He knocked softly before stepping inside, his shadows slithering along the floor beside him. He found her lying on her side, face half-buried in her pillow, eyes barely open.

He winced internally at the sight of her pale complexion, the exhaustion weighing heavy in her features. "How are you holding up?"

Y/n let out a slow exhale, shifting slightly as she cracked open an eye to look at him. "I feel like I've been stabbed repeatedly...then set on fire."

Azrie set the tea down beside her bed and crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly. "I'm assuming that means you want another cup?"

She groaned, rolling onto her back, flinging an arm over her eyes. "I swear, if I have to drink more of that bitter crap-"

"You'll feel better," he interrupted smoothly, already reaching for the cup. He handed it to her, and when she hesitated, his brow lifted. "What's worse? The pain or the tea?"

She sighed heavily, glaring at the cup like it had personally offended her. "They're equally awful."

Azriel huffed a quiet chuckle, not letting her see how much it pained him to see her like this. "Drink," he said, voice firm but not unkind. "Or do you need me to make you?"

She blinked, momentarily taken aback by his words. He never used that tone with her- authoritative yet teasing, like he wasn't above following through on his threat. Her eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't."

He didn't reply. He just held her gaze, his expression unreadable, though there was the faintest flick of amusement in his hazel eyes.

Y/n huffed in defeat and snatched the cup from his hands, muttering, "Sadist," before taking a reluctant sip. The bitter taste made her grimace, but she swallowed it anyway.

Had it been anyone else speaking that way, she'd have argued and thrown a fit, never yielding or giving them the satisfaction. But since it was him, and she knew he only wanted what's best for her, and though his tone was authoritative it never came off as disrespectful or forceful, she found herself complying.

Azriel leaned against the edge of the bed, watching her. "See? That wasn't so hard."

She shot him a sour look. "Remind me to poison your drink next time."

He let out a silent chuckle. There was silence between them for a moment before he spoke again. "Do you need anything else?"

"A new body," she muttered through gritted teeth, shifting in bed in a futile attempt to find a more comfortable position.

His lips twitched, but his amusement didn't quite reach his eyes. He hated seeing her like this, yet he forced himself to keep his tone light. "I'll put in a request."
—--

Y/n had finally managed to get out of bed and shuffle to the armchair by the window. She sat there with a blanket draped over her shoulders, her hands wrapped around another mug of tea Azriel had left for her. The faint scent of lavender lingered in the air from the oil she'd used earlier.

A knock sounded on her door, but this time it was quieter, more hesitant.

"Come in," she called, her voice raspier than usual.

Azriel stepped inside, his movements as quiet as his shadows. He carried another small vial in his hand, as if he knew she'd just used the last of the oil. "How are you feeling?"

"Like hell," she replied bluntly, though there was a flicker of dry amusement in her tone. "But...better. Thanks to the tea. And the oil."

He nodded, stepping closer and placing the vial on the nightstand. "Good. I brought more, just in case."