Something good and right and real: Chapter 8

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Chapter 8: feelin' like flyin'

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Of all the things that finally gave Oriana the spark that she needed to figure out the problem that she had with Azriel's fighting leathers...well, nobody would have thought that would be a children's bedtime story.

But it was.

She read about dragons and the power of love...and came out of it with her brain literally smoking with ideas.

Chainmail. Human Knights wore chainmail.

She didn't for one moment think that that was going to work for Azriel.

But the dragons made her think of scales and suddenly it was three days later, Azriel returning from a mission from the cauldron only knew and her forge was absolutely covered in bits of adamantium.

And Oriana's hair was standing in every which direction.

"You look like you had a productive time," Azriel quipped and she looked at him bright-eyed and excited. But she wasn't going to tell him a single word.

She had even sworn his shadows to secrecy. She thought they were more amused by her request than anything, but after she had explained what she was planning, they were happy to agree.

She was going to finish this...and it was going to be perfect.

"Oh, I was," she agreed immediately. "But please, take me out for the rest of the day, because I think otherwise I may become one with the forge."

She wasn't even joking. She should really leave it one of these days.

"We don't want that," Azriel agreed, a grin playing on his far too handsome features as he leaned down to press a kiss against her unresisting lips.

She happily twirled her arms around his neck as she kissed him.

"I came to kidnap you," he said softly and she grinned at him.

"Is it kidnapping if I come willingly?" she wondered. He shrugged.

"I have no clue," he admitted.

"Knife work?" she asked him and he shook his head.

"No, but we'll be...near the clearing," he said. "It's getting warmer. So I thought...Picnic?" he asked her and her smile filled her whole face.

She had learned early on that while Azriel didn't often talk about his feelings...they were there in every single action in all the time he made sure to spend with her. He was the one who got her flowers just because and who brought her chocolate from her favourite shop, even when she had never mentioned it to him. She was the one who just left things in his path, waiting for him to find them, not wanting to overwhelm him.

It worked for the two of them. But still, the thought that even when he had just come back home, he had come back straight to her, but still managed to bring along a beaten-up knapsack filled with food and drink...well that was adorable.

They took the usual flight route, the wings beating behind his back rhythmically and Oriana yearned for a moment when the opportunity would arise and she could reach out to touch them.

Still, as he touched down it wasn't the usual clearing they used whenever he taught her how to try and stab somebody with that knife of hers.

He hit the ground but didn't put her down as he carried her forward.

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