Chapter Text
Rhysand had settled back on the grass, wings spread wide and shirt off to take in the last vestiges of the sun as it set over the horizon. Feyre and Elain lounged next to him as they exchanged whispers and laughter as sisters were wont to do. Lucien was down by the lake at the base of the hill, where he played with his and Elain’s son, Nyx, and a whole host of grandchildren. They’d scheduled this playdate in the Day Court for the kids, but Rhys was pretty sure Lucien enjoyed it more than anyone else. He seemed to radiate happiness as he twirled the younglings around in the air while he basked in their laughter. It had been a beautiful day. Until he felt it.
A sharp, burning pain shot across Rhys’s left ribs, and the world froze. His heart stopped. Slowly, barely able to check, he looked down at his bare chest. And there it was, or rather, wasn’t. The three stars that bound him to his brothers were gone. All Feyre heard from her mate was a soft, broken, “no.”
Before she had turned around, he was gone. Lucien stopped and looked up toward where she and Elain sat as he slowly put his grandchild down and made to move toward them. Feyre sat there, hand clenched tightly over her chest. Tears started to roll down her eyes, her mouth gaped slightly. Elain just bowed her head beside her while she nodded to herself as she sometimes did when a vision she’d seen finally came to pass.
Rhys had no thought in his mind other than to find his brother. He hadn’t realized he’d dropped his shield completely and now sent every thought and emotion down his bond to Feyre. It was a torrential cascade of pain, fear, and sadness. Overwhelming loss consumed every piece of him. But one thing came through clearly to Feyre, a single name.
Azriel.
Feyre looked up at her sister, who took the hand that wasn’t clutched over her heart, and the soft understanding look the seer gave her was enough. Lucien had reached them by then. His voice was hesitant, as if he already knew but didn’t want it to be true when he asked Elain “What’s happened?”
Feyre couldn’t think, overcome by the eddying flurry of her and her mate's turmoil as it coursed through every part of her mind, body, and soul. Elain simply looked up at her mate, her hand still tightly wound around her sister’s in an attempt to ground her. When she spoke her words were calm and settled. “We have to go to the tree.”
Lucien knew what she meant. He quickly pieced together what had happened between Rhys’s sudden disappearance, Feyre’s grief, and that one tree that had meant so much to his brother. With an aching heart, Lucien grasped Elain and Feyre’s joined hands and winnowed them to the Autumn Court.
Cassian and Nesta were out on a date night. Seated at their favorite café against the banks of the Sidra, they took in the night softly as it softly rose while the last vestiges of sunlight drifted below the horizon. This was their favorite place together, and tonight was the first night in a long while they’d been able to spend just as Cassian and Nesta. Their kids, and their grandkids, kept them constantly busy. At this point, there were too many wings to keep track of.
The Cauldron had both blessed and cursed both Cassian and Nesta as well as their daughters with multiple sets of twins. At one point, Cassian had painted all their daughter’s wing talons different colors as he’d painted their nails, just so they could keep straight who was who as they whizzed around the house. Nesta had chastised him initially but was secretly grateful. It was enough to keep anyone on their toes, but they’d never been the pair to walk away from a challenge.
Nesta peered over the water to watch the first stars settle brightly in the sky when Cassian’s hand tightened around hers from across the table. When she met his gaze, his eyes were already full of shock and hurt. “Cass…” she started to ask with concern. Before the rest of the sentence formed, she noticed his other hand where it clutched his left side. Right where she knew the brothers' bargain tattoo sat. She’d known, when she’d seen Azriel last that it was a possibility, but she hadn’t wanted to believe it. Cassian wasn’t breathing. She watched as behind his eyes his entire world collapsed.
Before she could act, his eyes glazed over, the same look they all got when they spoke mind to mind with Rhys or Feyre. But she knew it was Rhys, and she knew what he had to say. Nesta stood slowly, didn’t dare take her eyes off her mate or break contact with his hand. Their bond filled with his numb disbelief. She knew Cassian wouldn’t accept it, not until he saw him. So gently, she laid her free hand on his shoulder. Her words were soft and understanding when she asked, “Do you want a moment, or do you want to go now?”
How she knew what he had seen and felt from Rhys Cassian didn’t question. With those still-glazed eyes, he looked up at his mate and said with a broken voice, “Take me now.” He stood slowly, too slowly, and she recognized the calm before the storm as she winnowed them both to join the others in the Autumn Court.
Rhysand arrived first, and what he saw brought him to his knees. The sun had just dipped below the horizon and the last rays shone between the tree on the grave where they illuminated the source of his grief. For there was Azriel, in front of a nearly untouched chessboard. It looked as if he’d knelt there, ready for a match, when he fell over to the side. His scarred hand was outstretched toward the other side of the board as he reached for someone who had been there with him.
On unsteady knees Rhysand crawled from where he fell and approached his brother, carefully avoiding his wings as he pulled his limp form onto his lap away from the board. “Brother…” He placed his hand on his cheek to draw their foreheads together. As he pulled out of Cassian’s mind, he pushed toward Azriel’s and grasped for anything he could use to try and pull his brother back to him. “Please…please…” Over and over he repeated the word like a prayer to guide him forward into the dark emptiness that was Azriel’s once-vibrant mind. He caught something then, just the smallest thread, and followed it as far as he could.
Suddenly, he saw Azriel on his knees by the tree as he set up the chessboard. He watched the white light spread across the board, and felt his brother's peaceful joy, his acceptance. Rhys rode through every wave of Azriel’s last moment while he cradled his brother in his arms, their foreheads pressed together almost to the point of pain. He pulled on that mental tether in an attempt to keep his brother with him, to get him to come back. But then he felt that serene happiness that filled Azriel’s last moments. He saw Eris too, and heard their conversation.
And Rhys couldn’t, he wouldn’t ask his brother to come back from that. Not after he’d lost Feyre, after he’d nearly felt their own bond shatter before it could ever be fully forged. So he pulled out of Azriel’s mind one last time. Rhysand felt his brother's mind as it drifted away completely to whatever came next and just cried.
That was how Nesta and Cassian found him, knelt on the ground with Azriel in his arms while he rocked their bodies and sobbed his grief to the skies. He didn’t look around when Cassian began to scream.
“NO.” He bellowed, and his voice shook the very ground they stood on as ruby flashed around the clearing and ricocheted off the white marble stone.
“nononONONONO!” The same word, over and over as he raced to his brothers. He slid to them on his knees, grasped Azriel’s shoulders roughly with both his hands, and shook hard. “AZ NO. NO. You don’t get to do this, you don’t get to give up. Azriel, come back. COME BACK.”
As Cassian raged, Nesta took in the scene. Behind the brothers, she saw the chess board. Her sharp eyes noticed how all of the pieces stood in their initial positions, except the two kings. One white, and one black, both lay next to each other in the middle of the board between the solid lines of pawns.
Behind the board, between the tree and the grave, Nesta then took in the veil. It shimmered like it had that day at the House of Wind, when it seemed to call to Azriel. But now, she could tell he was on the other side, and the path was about to close. Lady Death took in the rift between here and there, and knew in a way that others could not, that Azriel was gone.
“Cassian,” she heard Rhysand say, voice initially small. But then he spoke again, the power of a High Lord, albeit broken and hurt, called toward his brother “ Cassian. ” An order this time. Rhys and Cassian locked eyes, one of Rhys’s hands on Cassian’s shoulders, the other behind Azriel’s back to prop his limp body off the ground. Cassian’s hands still gripped Azriel’s shoulders in an attempt to pull him back. Their pain was mirrored in each other's eyes as their gazes locked over their dead brother. When Rhysand spoke, his voice full of emotion, the truth and finality of his words could not be denied.
“He’s gone, Cass.”
A sob choked out of Cassian as Rhysand drifted into his mind and showed him what he’d seen of Azriel’s final moments. When he finished the scene, Rhys pulled out of his mind to meet Cassian’s gaze again. And together they cried, horrible moans rose from Cassian’s chest as he wrapped one arm around Azriel’s back, the other cradled his head to draw him up. Rhys kept one hand on Cassian’s shoulder, the other still behind Azriel’s back, just above his wings. Cassian and Rhysand dropped their foreheads to meet Azriel’s.
They held their brother then as they had the day he’d said goodbye at the House of Wind, the last time they’d all been alive together. Their sobs echoed through the entirety of the Autumn Court. Nesta stood off to the side and watched as the veil disappeared completely. Slowly, she approached the brothers and came to kneel beside the trio. Softly, she ran a hand over her mate’s where it still rested in Azriel’s hair.
Nesta’s hand came to rest just above Cassian’s on the crown of Azriel’s head, covered in black hair now streaked with silver. And with that gentle touch, Lady Death began to bestow the final blessing on one of her best friends.
“Cauldron save you…” As she began, the males beside her cried harder, too devastated to utter the words with her aloud. In their minds, Cassian and Rhysand said the prayer along with her. “Mother hold you. Pass through the gates, and smell that immortal land of milk and honey. Fear no evil. Feel no pain. Go, and enter eternity.”
After she pulled her hand back, Nesta laid a soft kiss to the top of Azriel’s head, his brow still pressed against both his brothers’. She stood to back away then, and walked with her chin high and shoulders back as she stole herself for the task she had to undertake.
When she reached the Forest House, Nesta had dried her tears and removed all signs of dishevelment from her appearance. She needed to be strong, for her mate, and for her niece and nephew.
It didn’t take her long to find them in the main library of the house. When she arrived, Jace was up on a ladder to pull a book for his research from one of the uppermost shelves. Linna sat nestled in a chair, her youngest in her lap as she read her a bedtime story. Valo was in the chair next to them and watched on with awe. He was the first to notice Nesta where she stood in the doorway and rose slowly. Jace noticed his motion, and traced his gaze toward his Aunt’s solemn form.
“Auntie Nes! So good to see you.” He made his way down the ladder, placed his book on a table already sprawled with notes, and turned toward her again. “Though, this is a bit of a surprise. What brings you here?” Linna glanced between her aunt, her mate, and her brother, a deep sense of foreboding crept through her bones.
“Linna, Jace, could I speak with you out here please?” Nesta’s voice was calm, calmer than they’d ever heard her. That said more than enough for the two children. Jace glanced back at his big sister, who stood, handed her daughter to her mate, and took a deep breath before she headed for the hallway. As she walked by, she grabbed Jace’s hand and gripped it tightly.
When they reached the hallway, both siblings already knew what Nesta was there to say. For in that moment, she was not just their aunt, but also Lady Death, who bore tidings of the end. Nesta began to address her niece and nephew, but she had barely opened her mouth before Linna spoke first. She kept her voice calm, but her words sounded smaller than she’d intended.
“Where is he? Where’s our dad?”
“The tree.” Nesta breathed deeply and said again, “They’re at the tree.”
Still hand in hand Jace and Linna were on the run before Nesta finished speaking. She followed and kept their pace, but stayed one step behind. As they reached their family’s sanctuary, the siblings slowed. Neither wanted to disturb the scene before them.
Rhys and Cassian were still on the ground, knee to knee, their brother held between them. Each had one arm under his shoulders to hold him up and protect his wings. Cassian’s other hand cradled his face and slowly brushed his dark, curly hair from his face. Rhysand’s free hand laid on Azriel’s chest, right above his cobalt siphon where it lay as dull and lifeless as its wearer. Neither spoke, but both spilled silent, reverent tears for their fallen brother. Together they attempted to accept that only two brothers remained.
But the mated males had watched their brothers' last moments, and neither begrudged him his decision. They had one more year with him, one blessed year. A year longer than either male thought they could have lasted if faced with the same devastation, an even more poignant thought for Rhys as he thought of his bargain with Feyre.
Neither brother noticed their niece and nephew until they knelt beside them. Cassian and Rhysand peered up, tears streaked down their faces, eyes red and raw, and met their gazes. Linna knelt beside Rhys, Jace next to Cassian. Wordlessly, the brothers passed Azriel to his children. Cassian gently placed Jace’s hands to hold his wings and shoulders, and Linna held her dad’s head as she once held her papa’s one short year ago.
Rhys and Cassian found they couldn’t go far from their fallen brother . Rhys took one of Azriel’s hands in his own as he placed his other on Linna’s shoulder in silent comfort. Cassian grasped Azriel’s other hand in both of his own, leaned down, and brought his forehead to touch their combined fingers.
Nesta joined her sisters and Lucien, who looked on from the edge of the small clearing as they cried softly. Feyre had fallen to her knees, unable to stand in her grief and the roiling current that still flowed through her from Rhys. Elain and Nesta shared a knowing look. Elain may be the only seer in the family, but Nesta knew death. She knew this would come to pass just as well as her sister had, and in that moment they both found comfort in each other's gaze.
When the sun was high in the sky the next day, Azriel’s body was moved to the Forest House. For the first time since Eris’s death, he was laid to rest on their shared bed one last time before his funeral. Cassian and Rhysand still refused to leave his side and stayed with Linna and Jace. The group grieved Azriel together.
Nesta took it upon herself to plan the funeral, with the help of Valo and Feyre, in an attempt to alleviate the load on her family. Given that it had only been a year since the last formal Autumn Court funeral, the procedure was fresh in their minds and Azriel’s arrangements were made quickly.
The next day, Cassian and Rhysand built the base of the pyre with their bare hands, as Azriel had done for Eris. Jace silently joined in, and neither brother tried to stop him. Once the base was constructed, the remaining wood was placed with help from the rest of their friends and family in the Night, Autumn, and Day Courts. Mor, Feyre, Nesta, Elain, and Linna hefted wood to add from where it was cut down by Lucien and Valo. The Vanserra brothers each added wood as well, in tribute to their brother’s mate and all he’d done for their court. Even Amren joined the fray near the end, incapable of looking anyone in the eye.
At dusk, the pyre was completed, and both brothers returned to stand vigil over Azriel. Mor winnowed to the Night Court and returned with Azriel’s favorite pair of Illyrian leathers from the House of Wind. The next morning, Cassian and Rhysand carefully dressed Azriel.
Per Illyrian tradition, Azriel would be sent off with all his siphons and weapons as a true warrior. The brothers carefully strapped each piece into place. Two broadswords down his back, throwing knives, multiple daggers, and a bow and quiver were all properly positioned. As the final piece, they instructed Jace on how to strap Truth-Teller to his thigh, one last time.
As they had done one year ago for Eris, the family met in the main foyer of the Forest House. At dusk, the service began. Cassian and Rhysand carried Azriel out to the pyre together. Cassian held his brother's shoulders and upper wings, carefully folded and pinned to his back. Rhysand held his lower back and legs. Shoulder to shoulder, they walked as a trio one last time down the steps out toward the pyre. Linna and Jace followed, Valo closely behind. Next, Nesta and Feyre walked arm in arm together from the house, Lucien and Elain behind them. Mor and Amren joined the line and the remaining Vanserra brothers brought up the rear of the procession.
Rhysand and Cassian climbed the pyre slowly and placed their brother down so carefully, so as not to bend his wings behind him. Silent tears streamed down their faces and one last time they pressed their three foreheads together. The brothers had used this motion, this closeness, to ground each other for as long as they’d known one another. Anytime words weren’t possible, they pressed their foreheads together and all was heard that they could not say. This time, Rhys and Cass just poured out their souls. It was a thank you for the life they’d shared, the times they’d saved each other in so many ways. It was their laughter, their mischief, and their sorrow all rolled into one. It was every snowball fight, every battle, and every night they’d ever shared together encompassed in a silent goodbye between brothers. When they finally pulled themselves away, their mates met them at the base of the pyre and each held a torch out.
For the second time in her life, Linna stepped forward to say goodbye to her father. The sorrow of the High Lady was felt through the entire court, as it sang along the breeze and resonated in every tree.
“Thank you all for coming,” she started, much the same as she did a year ago. Summoning all the strength she had left, she continued. “Today, we celebrate the life of my dad, a male who dedicated his life to not one, but two courts. Many of you have heard his story. He was one of the greatest Illyrian warriors to ever live, a bastard-born nobody who became a Carynthian, the best Spymaster the Night Court has ever seen, and a wondrous, rare Shadowsinger. Azriel was many things in his life, and each title seemed to be more impressive than the last. But not many of you got to meet my dad. My papa’s mate. And brother to the two best uncles I could have ever asked for.”
“I wish you all got to know him as my brother and I did. He loved to play chess. He is the reigning snowball fight champion, regardless of what his brothers may say to the contrary. And he loved to sing. One of my youngest memories is of him singing to me. I used to be plagued with nightmares, terrified of the stories of the old Autumn Court, of everything my papa worked to undo. Any time I had a bad dream, my dad would come and sit on the side of the bed as my papa held me and he would sing to me until I fell back asleep. He had the most beautiful voice.”
“For Winter Solstice one year, he gave me a symphonia. Uncle Cass gave him the idea after he’d gifted one to Auntie Nes. When he gave it to me, he said ‘I know I can’t always be here when things get hard Little Lin, but I want you to have this, so that whenever you need me, I can sing for you and you will know how much I love you.’” Linna pulled out the little orb from her pocket. The device fell open softly as she continued to speak, her voice was heavy with sorrow and broken by tears. “So tonight, when we say goodbye to my dad, I want you all to hear a little piece of him. He deserves to be remembered as so much more than his titles and his conquests. I want you all to remember him as I do.” After she handed the symphonia to Valo by her side, Linna once again cast her hand in flame and lit the torches around her. She took the symphonia back from Valo, and the music began.
It was a simple song, but Azriel’s strong tenor voice soared. For a moment, everyone listened as it twined with the Autumn breeze. And then from all around, they appeared. Shadows that had not been seen since Azriel was alive snaked toward the symphonia and swarmed the space. They danced and wove through the crowd toward their master’s voice. Linna, Jace, Cassian, and Rhysand caught each other's eyes, and together the four stepped forward to light the pyre. Azriel’s shadows traced around them, brushed their shoulders and ran down their arms, and followed the fire toward the pyre. Feyre, Nesta, Mor, Amren, Elain, Lucien, and Valo all stepped forward with their own shadows, and added their flames in unison to the pyre where Azriel lay.
The crowd was silent as they beheld what was before them. Azriel’s voice crescendoed above them from the symphonia, full of love and the brightness of life. His shadows rolled through the flames that kissed his body and burnt him through the night.
It was as if everyone in attendance watched as the mates reunited, shadow and flame once again danced together through the sky, up to the Cauldron and the Mother and whatever waited for them after this life. And as dawn rose, the fire burned completely to ash, the shadows seemed to burn out too and dissipated into dust on the wind.
As Linna and Jace stepped forward with a gold urn, Cassian and Rhysand joined them with a second urn of purest black. Azriel's ashes were collected by those four alone until none remained. Then, Linna addressed the crowd once more.
“As a valued and irreplaceable member of not one, but two courts of Prythian, Azriel Vanserra’s ashes will be mixed before being spread in the four corners of both the Night Court and the Autumn Court. A delegation from each corner has been chosen, and will spread their portions at sunset today.” Linna turned toward her uncles, who both stood and held opposite sides of the black urn. She poured the contents of the gold urn into the black, and they poured them back to effectively mix the ashes. Once the ashes were fully combined, Linna poured half of them back into the black urn.
Linna met her uncle’s gaze and spoke with heartfelt honesty meant for just their ears. “He loved you both so much. And even though I’ve said goodbye to both my fathers, I know that I will always have a family with you.” Though both Cassian and Rhysand thought they’d cried all the tears they had, both of their eyes rimmed with silver once again at their niece’s words.
As she turned back to address the crowd, Linna completed the service, her strong voice full of sorrowful pride. “Please remember my fathers. They saved this court, and so many people across Prythian. But more than that, they dared to love and share that love more deeply than anyone else I have ever met. As you live your lives, remember them, and remember to love.”
That evening in the Night Court, Mor, Amren, Feyre, and Nesta each took a portion of ashes to their corner and spread them at sunset. Delegations in Autumn, led by the Vanserra brothers, did the same. Rhysand and Cassian took a small portion from the black urn to the cabin where they had their snowball fights and spread the ashes there.
Jace and Linna took a small portion from the gold urn to their family tree. Earlier the day before Lucien had updated the grave, and it now read:
Love Conquers All
Eris Vanserra
Leader, Protector, Papa
Azriel Vanserra
Warrior, Singer, Dad
After they spread the ashes, Linna and Jace set up a chess board and began to play. Neither spoke until halfway through the game when Linna broke the silence.
“He’s happier now, you know. Now that they’re together again. He deserves to be with papa.” Her voice was sincere and calm.
Jace didn’t look up from the game, just nodded and responded with quiet agreement. “I know.”
Linna continued to pour her heart out to her little brother, voice slightly choked with emotion but still sure of her words. “They fought so hard to be together, overcame so much. I wouldn’t be able to lead this court without them. They taught me, taught us what it was to be strong. To lead with love, not fear or hate. I’m so grateful for them, to be their daughter.” Linna’s tears dropped onto the board as she moved her knight to take Jace’s pawn. He grabbed her shaking hand as she took his piece off the board, and just listened as she continued to pour out her heart to him.
This is how they functioned. She worked through her thoughts out loud, and he processed them internally, but they were always there for one another. Their fathers had always been there for them, and had taught the siblings to do the same for each other.
And as Linna and Jace sat there in their family’s sanctuary and comforted each other, their fathers watched on from across the veil hand in hand.
“I’m so proud of them,” Azriel said from beside his mate while he watched his children in wonder. He knew out of everything, Jace and Linna were their greatest accomplishment.
Eris raised Azriel’s hand to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss to it, as he’d done so many times in life and would get to do so many more in this new plane of existence. His voice was full of gratitude and peace as he responded. “Me too love, me too.”
Azriel broke his gaze from his children and looked into his mate’s smiling face. “We did pretty good, don’t you think?”
Eris shrugged nonchalantly and smirked. “Saved all of Prythian, rebuilt a court, and raised the most beautiful, accomplished children I’ve ever seen. I’d say so, mate.” More reverently he added, “We did it.”
Jace and Linna continued their game as the sun set completely around them, not aware their fathers were right there with them at the tree.
“I love you,” Azriel said as he gazed back at Jace and Linna’s chess game.
Eris smiled as he gazed between his mate and children. Briefly, he wondered how he got so lucky before he responded tenderly, “I love you too.”
Their eyes met, and together they spoke the last word.
“Forever.”