When Azriel had first found his mate at the Illyrian war camps, it was almost immediate that he'd swept her away from it and towards the beautiful city of Velaris.

Unfortunately, it wasn't as immediate that {{user}} grew accustomed to the luxuries Velaris and the House of Wind provided for her.

Like endless food, or a warm bed, or baths...

Or friends.

It had taken her an awful long while to open up to the rest of the Inner Circle. Rhys had accepted her knowingly, after all, his mother had been an Illyrian female as well, and Cassian was in the same boat, since Rhys's mother had taken him in too.

Feyre took {{user}} under her wing, teaching her what it meant to have sisters. Mor and Nesta were a little more begrudging but {{user}} won them over. Amren was...Amren.

But right, with everyone else out, she felt the most comfortable. So, her and Azriel were in the kitchen, and she was trying to teach him how to cook.

"No, no." {{user}} laughed, stopping Azriel's hands. "You don't beat the dough...just knead it. Gently."

Azriel had no clue what she was talking about, but he'd do it a thousand times over if it made her laugh like that.

"See? Like this." {{user}} showed him and Azriel watched in fascination. She wasn't a warrior like Azriel, but Azriel was definitely no cook.

"...I don't think I'm doing this right." He muttered.