The artwork above is not mine.

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Seren changed into a thin tunic and a pair of pants. Mor sat on the edge of Seren's bed, combing through her golden locks. "Those should work for now. If you need leathers, let me know. I'll be able to find some for you." Mor had scrounged up the outfit shortly after lunch. Prior to that, she'd spent an hour teaching Seren a few stretches. Apparently, Azriel had asked her to.

"Thanks." Seren tied her hair back into a bun and tugged her boots on.

"Do you know where Az is going to hold your training sessions?"

Seren shrugged. "He didn't say."

"Hm." Mor clicked her tongue. "Well, if he pushes you too hard, don't be afraid to tell him off. Not that he'll act like he's listening; none of them do, but do it anyway."

"I'll try to remember that. I've never been the most outspoken person."

"Maybe you should be training with Cassian instead. You wouldn't have an issue yelling at him. He's a brute more often than not. Az is the most polite out of the three of them."

"And by the three of them, you mean Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel?" Mor inclined her head. Seren began to speak again, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. She crossed the room and unlocked it.

Azriel folded his hands behind his back. "Are you ready?"

"I suppose so. I'll see you later," she called to Mor. "Close the door on your way out." Mor nodded and Seren joined Azriel in the hallway. Instantly, a shadow broke away from him and wrapped itself around her arm. She smiled, then faced Azriel. "Where are we going to be training?"

"The House of Wind." Seren gritted her teeth, anxiety swelling within her chest. Azriel glanced at her. "No one will bother us. I told Cassian what time we'll come and when we'll leave. The priestesses don't usually leave the library except for their own lessons."

"What about Nesta?"

"She'll respect your need for privacy. She was the same way." He huffed in amusement. "Cassian had a hell of a time trying to train her when they first started. She refused to train until they moved their lessons to the House of Wind."

"Where did they go originally?"

"Cassian took her to Windhaven, an Illyrian war-camp."

"I've heard a little bit about the war-camps. They don't sound like the most hospitable places. Do you go there often?"

"Often enough, and you're right. They aren't hospitable." Shadows wreathed his face as they made their way outside. "Windhaven is where Rhys, Cassian, and I were trained." Azriel fell silent and his shoulders tensed.

He must have a lot of bad memories of that place, Seren thought. She glanced at his hands. The shadow on her arm tightened its hold. He's more talkative than normal. I don't want him to be silent and brooding all afternoon. Seren lifted her hand and let her flames loose. They stretched into tendrils, akin to his shadows. She coaxed them around her face. "Does this give me a mysterious brooding look?" She asked.

"Is that what you're trying to achieve?"

"Yes."

"Then no. Your flames are too bright. They make you glow."

"Hm. Maybe you need a small flame of your own. Your shadows are too dark. They hide you."

They paused just beyond the grounds of the river house. Azriel swallowed, eyeing her flames almost nervously. Is he afraid of fire? Her eyes fell to his hands yet again. The scars were old, but she recognized them easily enough. She had a hand shaped burn on her leg. The scar tissue was similar to Azriel's. He had been burned by someone.

She let her flames fade, all except for one. A flaming tendril, the same size as the shadow on her arm, hovered above her hand. "While your shadow stays with me, will you let my flame stay with you?" Azriel eyed the flame warily, then nodded. Seren released it and the flame coiled around his leather clad arm. "It will produce no heat and it won't move. Unlike your shadows, my flames only answer to me. They don't possess any sentience of their own."

Azriel rotated his arm and watched the flame curiously. A few of his shadows floated past it, but they didn't touch it. "Let's get going. We're going to start with two hours of training."

"We'll be training until dinner?"

He nodded and held out a hand. Seren let him hold onto her. He flapped his wings and they shot into the air. Seren squeezed her eyes shut and dug her nails into the sturdy leather that covered his back.

"Are you afraid of heights?" Azriel asked.

"I'm not sure. When you brought me to Velaris, I wasn't myself. Flying didn't bother me because I was too tired and weak to fully process it. Now..." Seren cracked an eye open and tilted her head down. "I'm realizing how high up I am. If you were to drop me, I don't think I could focus enough to winnow myself to safety."

"I won't drop you. Elain would ask Nesta to kill me. Mor might help. They've taken a liking to you."

"Do you all talk about me?" She closed her eyes again as the ground spun beneath her.

"Occasionally. Rhys and Feyre ask us what we think of you and how you've interacted with everyone."

"What do you think of me?"

"I haven't decided."

"What do your shadows think of me?" The shadow squeezed her arm in response.

"That one likes you. I think the others do too. They don't tell me much about you."

"And that's unusual?"

"Yes, they're normally talkative, especially when there are strangers in our home."

Seren bit her lip and said nothing. They flew in silence, eventually reaching the House of Wind. Azriel landed and set her down. They entered one of the training rings. Seren crossed her arms, waiting for instructions. Azriel simply walked around her, an assessing look on his face.

"Stretches first. Did Mor show you the ones I usually do?" He asked.

"Yes." Azriel gestured for her to begin. Seren obeyed and began stretching out her limbs. A few of the stretches were painful, but most of them felt surprisingly good.

"What do you know about fighting?" Azriel asked.

"Not very much. Father never let me hold a weapon or learn to defend myself. I picked up a few moves on my way here." The lie felt like ash on her tongue. "I know the weak points in a body and how to hit them with sharp jabs."

"Where did you get this dagger?" Azriel pulled Hiraeth from a sheath on his hip. "And do you know how to use it?"

"It was my father's. I took it after Beron killed him. I have a vague knowledge of how to use it." Another lie. She hoped Azriel wouldn't pick up on her festering guilt.

"Show me." He flipped the blade in his hand and passed it to her, hilt first.

Seren ceased her stretching and took it gingerly. She settled the blade in her hand as Beron had shown her. She angled it up and did a few jabs and slashes. Azriel watched her silently. She dropped her arm with a sigh.

"You hold it like it will bite you. You're afraid of it." Azriel took Hiraeth once more.

"I only tried to hold a weapon once. I was twelve and my father had left the door to his armory open. I went in and found a short sword. It was beautiful. I wanted to hold it." Seren fought a tremble out of her voice. "I picked it up and it felt like it had been waiting for me. I wanted to ask someone to teach me to use it."

"Why didn't you?"

"My father came in. He went into a passion and set the room on fire. He grabbed me by the leg and pulled me out. I sat there and watched that sword melt. My father held onto my leg, burning me all the while. He told me that I was never to touch a weapon. My job wasn't to fight or protect myself. I was to be nothing more than a weak and fragile puppet for him to pass on to whomever my husband would be." The burn on her leg almost grew warm as she recounted the event. "I never touched a weapon again until he died."

Azriel clenched his jaw and turned away for a moment. The shadow on her arm trembled and icy rage seeped from it...from him. Seren narrowed her eyes. How can I feel that? She groaned under her breath. I must've used my daemati powers again by accident. Some of his feelings might have slipped past his mental shields.

Azriel faced her, resolution settling across his features. "I've decided on your first lesson."

"What is it?"

"I'm going to teach you how to break away from someone who has a hold on you." Seren stepped back as he dropped to the ground. "If someone grabs you by the leg, use your free one. Kick up towards their face. They'll likely be crouching or bent over. As soon as you make contact and they lose their grip," Azriel drew his legs close to him and twisted onto the balls of his feet, "get up. Use your momentum to drive your elbow or fist into their jaw and further disable them." He demonstrated once more from the beginning.

Azriel picked himself up and nodded towards the ground. Seren sat down. She envisioned her father standing over her, gripping her leg. She snapped her foot up, then rolled and pushed herself to her feet. Seren followed the movement through, angling her fist towards her body and her elbow out. "Like that?"

"Roll onto your feet faster. Otherwise, that was good." He pointed to the ground again. "Try it on me."

"I'll kick you."

"You won't, don't worry."

Seren got down again. Azriel crouched over her and pinned her leg down. She pulled against him and threw her other leg up. Her foot bounced off a blue shield. Azriel released her and moved back. She twisted and flung her elbow up towards his throat. She collided with another shield. Seren laughed, spying his glowing siphons.

"Was that better?" She asked.

"Much."

Seren ran through the movement a few more times until Azriel was satisfied with her execution. They practiced with both of her legs. When her right leg was pinned, she struck with the left and rolled to the right once she was free. When her left leg was pinned, she struck with the right and rolled left. When both were being pressed down, she pushed up with her hips and kicked her legs, throwing her attacker over her head.

From there, they moved on to different types of holds. Azriel showed her how to break away when someone grabbed her from behind. He showed her how to roll an enemy over her shoulder. She learned how to anticipate a grab and dodge it. By the end of the lesson, she was panting, sore, and sweaty, but proud.

Azriel helped her to her feet. The shadow removed itself from her arm and returned to him. Seren's flame disappeared from Azriel. "Tomorrow, we'll work on your balance," he said as he held onto her.

They soared into the air and she closed her eyes again. "Why didn't we do that today? That seems like something we should've started on."

"Because you didn't need to learn that today." Seren cracked an eye open. Azriel stared ahead, a cool mask falling over his features.

He was right. She hadn't needed to learn that yet. She'd needed to learn that she wasn't defenseless. She needed to learn that she could have gotten away from her father that day if she'd only known how. She needed to realize that it was okay to fight. She'd needed to learn it, and Azriel had made sure that she did.