The night was young, and the drinks flowed freely.  Azrael cannot help by be struck by the similarities to another party, another summer night, which seemed a lifetime ago now.  On that night, the bonfires has burned brightly and the stars had shone even brighter.  It was a night filled with hope and longing, a night which would begin a fateful path that not even his stargazing could have predicted.  For how could he have known that the girl with eyes as blue as the sea, wide and bright in the moonlight as they watched him with absolute trust and comfort, would have danced with another that night.  Wantonly.  Lustfully.  And as much as Azrael had forgiven the past, he cannot help but feel the pang of jealousy once more as he wondered how their fates might have been different, if he had found her first and asked her to dance beneath the pale moonlight.
 
He nurses a drink, the alcohol strong but not unpleasant as it cooled his thirst, and he watched pensively as the bonfires licked at the midnight sky.  As strangers passed, Azrael nodded in greeting, murmuring small talk as was expected of him, though his heart wasn’t really in it.  He sighs, absentmindedly stroking the owl who rested on his shoulder, leaning closer so she could pick at his mane with a quiet and comforting coo.  It didn’t do to dwell of might-have-beens, he knew, and yet Azrael cannot help but be struck by the similarities.
 
Swallowing his pride, he tries to shake away the memories and focus on the party, a warm buzz fading over him as he closed his eyes and swayed with the music.  Strangers press closer to him, and he is assaulted by their warmth, but does not move away.  Instead he lets the pass by, dancing casually with a few before finding himself once more on the outskirts of their movement, looking in. 
 
He does not stay alone for long though, turning toward approaching footsteps and smiling gratefully as he recognizes their bearer.  Morrighan walked more easily now, and his gaze flickers quickly to her leg, then back again.  “It seems to be healing well…”  He shifts over to allow her room beside him, and the two quietly watch their kingdom for a moment.  Not for the first time, Azrael is struck by the beauty of it, with the towering citadel just visible from the shore, haloed in the light of a full silver moon.
 
"I met your daughter earlier, Maeve, right?”  Though Morrighan hadn’t shared the girl’s name, he’d heard it whispered several times since returning from the island.  “She takes after you.”  Both in looks and adventurous spirit, it seemed.  “I’m glad to see you were able to bring her home safely.”
 
Much had changed since he’d last found time alone with the now-sovereign, but the Court had seemed to ride the change well.  In fact, Denocte seemed livelier now than he’d seen it in some time, and he had no  doubt the change in regime was good for them.  “How are you finding your first weeks as queen?”
 
 

There is an easiness between the shed-star and his queen, perhaps because Azrael had only known her in a moment of humility.  He does not know the outsider with anger quick to spark, only the concerned mother who searched for her child in a place desolate and built on magic.  While he knew her tongue to be sharp, he would not label Morrighan as unkind.  The shed-star appreciated her efficiency and pragmatic view on the world, and it would serve her well as queen.  For he had always preferred a realist than a dreamer, where leaders were concerned.  She reminded him, in a way, of the matriarch who had ruled over the People.  She had been a fair and just leader, dutiful until the end.  

For a moment, he seems lost in the thought, remembering.  The Great Mother had burned with her people, refusing to leave them even as she tried to sway them with reason.  Some had fled, taking heed her warning and making their way to Denocte with heavy hearts and stinging from the grief of loss.  But she had stayed, lamenting the foolishness of those who expected to be saved, even as she stood beside them to meet her final fate.  

He swallowed hard, pushing the memory away as she makes mention of Maeve’s precociousness.  Hopefully not too much like me  He chuckles, reminding her of the village she had built in this place.  “There are many who will help to guide the children here – our youth are the greatest gift, and we will protect and teach them well.”  Such was the way of the People.  Azrael himself had been raised by the collective, never knowing his true parents or their love – but it was not a bad upbringing, despite the occasional wondering.  For when many hands helped and many hearts loved, the People were stronger for it.

Azrael does not press the queen further, noting the confliction in her eyes when she glosses over his question.  It would be difficult, he imagined – both stepping into a new role and watching one who she had once called a friend turn away from this place.  He wanted to reassure her that she was doing well, to tell her that all would be alright… but it wasn’t the right time.  He wasn’t the right advisor.  So he simply sips at his drink and murmurs thoughtfully at her question.

“We must start with questions and learning.  After the festival, I plan to make my way to the Great Library for research.  Perhaps I will take Cicatrix with me?”  He was curious to know more of the lore here, knowing only what the shed-stars had taught about Caligo and her legacy.  And while he was a pious sort, life seemed to have gotten in front of his vassalage of late.  He needed to recenter and balance his priorities once more, focusing on more than his own desires.

“I think we should consider sending emissaries to the other courts as well, to see how things have evolved.  There have been many changes over the past year, and the stars speak of change still to come.”

 
If Azrael notices the tension which came into Morrighan’s voice at the mention of her emissary, he doesn’t say anything.  Instead, he chuckles quietly under his breath, thinking to Solterra and the trouble they had caused for Denocte in the past.  Though he had been relatively new when Raum and his followers had wreaked havoc on the Night Court, the effects were still being felt today.  He only had to look to Katniss as she grieved the loss of her lover, to the charred places where their food stores had once stood, to know that life had irrevocably been changed by the greed of others.

“I am told Solterra has a new king… that Delumine has a new queen.  All around us, there is change…”  Their own court had seen a fair amount of change lately, but then, not all change was a bad thing.  He looks around them, seeing new faces, smiling and enjoying all that the party had to offer.  It was good, Azrael decided, that they could gather and be at peace with one another.  Too much blood had been shed already, too much chaos wrought.  He much preferred peace and quiet, and to look to the stars with wonder instead of troubled thoughts.

“The stars are seldom so clear as black and white.  They speak of strange magic and of something dark coming to Novus – something foreign.  I cannot be certain what it means, only that it gives me pause to wonder.  We would do well to prepare for whatever may come, to build our alliances now… for there may come a time where we can only rely on each other, slave to the will of the gods.”  He hoped it would not come to that, but Azrael had seen darkness before.  He had seen the way fate could intertwine with reality, cursing anything in its path.  And he did not want to see Denocte fall, as his once-home had, lost to the flames.

Tonight though, he had no need to worry.  Even Elliana seemed to be enjoying herself, finding company with the immortal child who often visited their cottage in Terrestella, far more obvious than he realized.  It was good for her to spend more time with children, to let her imagination take her into worlds of play instead of the depths of an artist’s vision.  He could not know how much of Tenebrae took root in the child, how much his shadows clamored against Elena’s light… but it didn’t matter.  Azrael knew only pride, as he watches the girl in the distance, meeting her glance for a moment and warming with her fleeting smile before she returns to play once more.

“Do not worry, my queen…”  He sips at his drink once more, letting the burn linger in his mouth before it warms him to the belly.  “You have built a skilled team to stand beside you, and we will be ready, come what may.”

There is an easiness between them, and Azrael enjoys the silence which falls as both watch the party unfold. Fire crackles into the night sky, even as Morrighan hums in agreement beside him. All around them, there is laughter and joy, a welcome sentiment to the court which he knew had been through so much. It was good, Azrael decided, for Denocte to celebrate with their neighbors. It was good to welcome the summer, with its endless days or sunshine and warmth, and its nights bright with stars. While the nights were shorter now, they still seemed more vibrant, perhaps due to the warmth around them which made star-gazing an all-together more pleasant experience.

“Enjoy your evening, my queen… I should find Elena once more.” He bows respectfully to her, catching the gaze of his lover across the licking flames, and returning Elena’s soft smile with his own, filled with warmth and longing. “And do not worry – Denocte will thrive, this I promise you.”

And he goes from her side, leaving the queen to her wondering and thoughts, prepared to face whatever life might throw their way in the coming seasons of Morrighan’s reign.