Disclaimer: All but Lyra belong to Sarah J Maas
Chaos erupted as that fire encompassed Beron and the others jumped back, shouting and crying out in protest. It kept coming, flowing from Feyre in waves of ire.
Lyra had jumped back, her heart pounding as she stared at the High Lady, the anger and pain on her beautiful face as she attacked.
Azriel's scarred fingers pulled her further back, pushing her behind him as he had that day with the Scorpion, wings flaring slightly as though he would use them to shield her. Where his fingers had touched her burned.
Water from the pond in the middle of the room now rose, wrapping around Beron and his chair and Lyra caught a flare of panic on the High Lord's face as he sent fire back to it, fighting against her powers.
"Feyre." Rhysand called, though he stood back, watching her with tenseness.
Feyre pushed harder as Beron's own shield fought back, struggled to push outward against that water. Feyre's teeth flashed before she waved her hand and a light flashed, breaking into Beron's magic. Water pushed in and in and true fear broke out across his face.
But then Rhysand pushed forward, taking Feyre's face in his hands, caressing her. "You've proved your point, my love." He whispered. "Kill him, and horrible Eris will take his place."
Feyre did not answer, at least not aloud, her power remaining in place, fighting to drown the High Lord.
"As interesting as an experiment as that might be," Rhysand said softly, calmly to whatever Feyre had said through the bond. "It would only complicate matters at hand."
Feyre paused, her breath evening as Rhysand stared into her eyes, his tan fingers running over her cheeks. And then, with a sigh, the magic released. Beron panted, growling as his flames erupted after being freed of that cocoon, but they bounced again off of a shield that Rhysand had wrapped around them. He seemed to understand it was useless to keep it up, because he only panted and glared hatefully at the pair of them.
"That was how you got through my wards." Tarquin said and Lyra looked to the other High Lords, fear trickling down her spine. She could see the realization on their faces, could see it dawning on them where Feyre had gotten those powers. She remembered how worried the others had been of the High Lords finding out.
"I wondered where it went, that little bit. So small – like a fish missing a single scale. But I still felt it whenever something brushed against that empty spot." Helion said, seating himself slowly and ran those intelligent amber eyes over Feyre. Then he smirked toward Rhysand. "No wonder you made her High Lady."
Azriel had calmed enough that Lyra moved around him, though she felt him hovering close, watching carefully. She tried to ignore the flutter his protectiveness gave her as she seated herself again.
"I made her High Lady, because I love her." Rhysand answered truthfully, his hands falling to is sides. "Her power was the last thing I considered."
"You knew of her powers?" Helion asked, glancing toward Tamlin.
Tamlin ignored him, his eyes instead looking between the mate's and Lyra wondered if he finally, really saw it then. That deep, beautiful love between the two. "It was none of your business." Tamlin snapped, looking away.
"The power belongs to us . I think it is." Beron snarled, still panting across the pool.
"I'd say Feyre proved it's hers now." Lyra snapped, glaring at the threat in his face. Beron scowled at her, his breathe a hiss between his teeth and Lyra smiled at him, enjoying the way it filled him with even more anger.
"I'm sorry." Feyre breathed, still standing next to Rhysand and Lyra saw her looking to the Lady of Autumn, the burn that marred her arm.
"Don't talk to her, you human filth." Beron snapped.
Lyra watched in amusement as Rhysand's power slipped through Beron's shield so easily it was like it was passing through air and then sent the High Lord rocking in his chair. And before Beron could process what was happening, the chair turned into glittering dust and sent Beron falling onto his ass.
"Don't ever speak to my mate like that again." Rhysand warned, the picture of ease as he slipped his hands into his pockets.
Beron rose, that dust still staining his jacket and glared at all of them, anger radiating off him. "This meeting is over. I hope Hybern butchers you all."
"This meeting is not over."
Nesta stood, back straight and unwavering as she looked at the lot of them. Rage made her eyes almost glow as she looked to Beron as he paused. "You are all there is. You are all that there is between Hybern and everything that is good and decent." Her eyes bore into Beron, flashing. "You fought against Hybern in the last war. Why do you refuse to do so now?"
Beron remained silent, still shaking with rage but he didn't move any closer to the door. Eris slowly sat, gesturing for his brothers do to the same.
Nesta hesitated for just a moment, seeming to realize for the first time that everyone was looking to her now. "You may hate us. I don't care if you do. But I do care if you let innocents suffer and die. At least stand for them. Your people. For Hybern will make an example of them. Of all of us."
"And you know this how?" Beron snapped.
"I went into the Cauldron. It showed me his heart." Nesta answered back, meeting his gaze. "He will bring down the wall and butcher those on either side of it."
Nesta had never spoken of her time in the Cauldron with Lyra, even as they trained together and tried to learn what about that mysterious power she had stolen from the thing. Amren had questioned, just once, but Nesta had shut it down, unwilling to answer anything about her brief time in the thing. Lyra couldn't blame her. Her time in it had been horrifying and from the haunted look on Nesta's face when Amren had questioned her, Lyra could see that it had been the same for her.
"I am sorry for the loss of those children." Nesta continued, looking toward Viviane and Kallias. "The loss of one is abhorrent. But beneath the wall, I witness children, entire families, starve to death." She looked toward Feyre, emotion swimming in her eyes. "Were it not for my sister… I would be among them."
Feyre met her sisters' eyes, silver lining them for just a moment before she blinked it away.
"Too long. For too long have humans beneath the wall suffered and died while you in Prythian thrived. Not during that… queens reign." She flinched back, unable to bring herself to say the name of the woman who had killed her sister. "But long before. If you fight for anything – fight now, to protect those you forgot. Let them know they're not forgotten, just this once."
"While a noble sentiment, the details of the Treaty did not demand we provide for our humans neighbors." Thesan cut in. "They were to be left alone. So we obeyed."
"The past is the past." Nesta shrugged, brushing it away. "What I care about is the road ahead. What I care about is making sure no children, Fae or human, are harmed. You have been entrusted with protecting this land. How can you not fight for it?"
She looked at last at Beron, his whole family. Eris looked like he had actually listened, was considering her words and if Lyra wasn't mistaken, he almost looked impressed.
"I shall consider it." Beron snipped, offering no other words before he and the rest of them vanished.
Nesta sighed, her tense shoulders loosening just a bit before she slowly sat herself back next to Lyra.
"Did you master the ice?" Kallias asked, studying Feyre with a clouded look.
"All of it." Feyre answered, nodding to him.
"Does it make a difference, Kal?" Viviane asked softly, watching him as he rubbed his face.
"I don't know."
"You saved us Under the Mountain. Losing a kernel of power seems a worthy payment." Tarquin said, nodding to Feyre. Rhysand dipped his head gratefully to the High Lord of Summer.
"It seems she took far more than that. If she could be within seconds of drowning Beron despite the wards." Helion said, his eyes roaming over Feyre, curious and Lyra saw his power reach out, stretching toward her as though he was trying to find that power of his.
"What's done is done." Thesan said, though Lyra saw a glimmer of reluctance in his words as he glanced at Feyre. "Short of killing her there is nothing we can do."
Rhysand's rumbling power was the only answer, a threat to any who had similar thoughts.
But Feyre stood, surveyed them all with steel in her eyes. "I did not take your power. You gave it to me, along with the gift of my immortal life. I am grateful for both." She paused, lifting her chin. "But they are mine now. And I will do with them what I will."
They rose, flanking Feyre, a unified front against anyone who would question her.
"I will use these powers, my powers," Feyre said, voice low and even. "to smash Hybern to bits. I will burn them, and drown them, and freeze them. I will use these powers to heal the injured. To shatter through Hybern's wards. I have done so already, and I will do so again. And if you think that my possession of a kernel of your magic is your biggest problem, then your priorities are severely out of order."
Viviane rose, admiration shining in her beautiful blue eyes. "I will fight with you."
The woman from Tarquin's group rose too, her eyes alight. "As will I.
Tarquin and Kallias were smart enough to rise when the woman looked to them, a call to stand too. Then Helion, an amused grin on his face as he looked between Rhys and his mate. And then finally Thesan and Tamlin, though Tamlin looked slightly disgusted.
Hours passed, more fighting happening, though this time only through words as the others tried to decide the best course of action to start this fight. With Tamlin there, no one would give a good idea on what they offered and when it became obvious that not much would be done while he was there, Thesan finally had them shutting down the talk for the evening. He led the other High Lords away to their suites one by one, with Tamlin going first and then followed by Tarquin and Helion.
When they were left alone with just Kalias, Rhysand finally stood, his hand running tiredly through his hair. "Well, that went well. It would seem none of us won our bet about who'd fight first."
Lyra stiffened as Azriel looked to the floor, shamed and his face blank. "Sorry." He whispered, face distant. Lyra didn't dare look at him, didn't look at Mor. She kept her face neutral, blank and looked instead toward the outside, the sun slowly slipping beneath the horizon. She could feel Mor's eyes on her again, though Lyra wasn't sure why her friend was looking to her.
"He had it coming." Vivian interjected, shaking her head in disgust. "Eris is a piece of shit."
When her mate gave her a surprised look, she only stared back and shrugged.
"What? He is."
"Be that as it may," Kallias said, a bit of amusement lining his words as he looked away from his mate. "The question remains about whether Beron will fight with us."
"If all the others are allying, Beron will join us." Mor said, her voice a bit rough. "He's too smart to risk siding with Hybern and losing. And I'm sure if things go badly, he'll easily switch over."
Rhys nodded in agreement, disgust in his eyes. "How many troops do you have?" He asked Kallias.
"Not enough." Kallias muttered, rubbing his jaw tiredly. "Amarantha did her job well. We've got the army Viv commanded and hid, but not much else. You?"
"We have sizable forces. Mostly Illyrian legions." Rhysand said, though she saw the tension in his eyes. "And a few thousand Darkbrings. But we'll need every soldier who can march."
Viviane came to stand beside Mor, her pale hands laying on Mor's shoulders as she looked into her face. "I always knew we'd fight alongside each other one day."
Lyra finally looked at Mor, who met Viviane's gaze, a protective look flickering over her face. She gave Viviane a smile and said, "It's almost enough to make me feel bad for Hybern."
"Almost." Viviane said, eyes sparkling. "But not quite."
"Well, brother, that went as well as we could have hoped for."
Azriel fought a growl as Cassian slapped his shoulder, laughing as he caught sight of Azriel's icy glare. He seated himself next to him, his feet dangling over the edge of the tower that he had found Azriel on. Despite his moody quiet and his very obvious attempt at finding somewhere no one would reach him, Cassian had forced his way into the seat next to him and made it very obvious that he wasn't leaving him to stew here on the tower alone.
He had broke today. Had been unable to restrain himself, his pain and anger and guilt. He couldn't stop it after Eris threw that insult at Lyra, at Mor. He had taken everything he was feeling, all his conflicted feelings at being unable to be with his mate, at his guilt for having to work with the male who had hurt Mor so horribly, the pain of being so utterly worthless, out on Eris. All of it, years and years of simmering rage.
The male deserved it. Deserved so much more for everything he had done.
But Lyra and Mor had both been scared after. Of him, his rage, his darkness. He had seen it in the way Lyra had stared, wide eyed and pale, at him those few moments. And Mor, she had shaken for nearly an hour after.
Lyra had barely looked at him after that. Seemed unable to stomach it.
That pained him more than anything else.
And then Mor had flirted with Helion, made her interest in him very well known. It was a dance she did all these years, a way to show him that she did not return his interest. But this time, it did not bother him. Not as it would have once. When Azriel had reflected on it after he had slipped away to find someplace where he could be alone, he knew it wasn't just the bond he now shared with Lyra. Those feelings had faded even before he had felt the mating bond snap into place. Even before Lyra had come here.
He still remembered the first time he had ever seen Mor, so beautiful and smiling as she blazed into the Illyrian camp all those years ago. She had been the first person to ever look at him and not fear him. The camp lords, the other Illyrians training with him, even his brothers had given him caution when they had first met him. But not Mor. She had smiled at him, like he was no different than Cassian or Rhysand and had treated him like he was no different than them either. Like a friend. It was that that had started his feelings for her. And then he had come to see her utter kindness, her goodness and after so long surrounded by darkness and abuse and hatred, he had craved it so much it hurt.
He had loved Mor in a way. Looking back now, after being able to step back from it and see the whole picture, he realized all these centuries later that he had loved Mor for being what he had yearned for as that lonely, mistreated child. For being one of the first genuinely good people to see him and think him worthy of kindness and of her friendship.
But then Feyre had come and Azriel saw for the first time what real love looked like as he saw her and Rhysand come together. What a true mating bond was. Rhysand did not share all of his intimate moments with Cassian and Azriel, but even small glimpses of how Rhysand viewed Feyre, the way he loved her not just as his mate, but for everything she was, had Azriel realizing that what he felt for Mor was not the same. That he had never loved her or anyone like that.
Until Lyra.
He had never stood a chance with her. Even if the mating bond had not happened, Azriel knew he would have still come to care for her. They understood each other, connected in a way he never had with anyone. She was broken and struggling, just like him. Held her own darkness, her own jagged edges that seemed to fit so perfectly with his. He saw all parts of her and he loved all of them.
Everyone had been able to see it, long before he had. He was the only one stupid enough not to realize it.
"He did deserve it." Cassian said, looking out toward where the sun was now setting, spreading oranges and reds and purples across the sky. "He deserved more."
"I know that." Azriel snapped, wings tucking in as he glared out toward the city.
Cassian glanced at him then, his hazel eyes sharp as he studied him. Read every inch of his face, his body. Azriel had seen that look on his face before, it was the same look he gave his warriors, studied them to gauge their moods, their feelings, their moral.
"Are you mad because of Mor or because of Lyra?" Cassian asked finally and Azriel again fought off the urge to growl at his brother.
Cassian rarely ever confronted Azriel about his old feelings for Mor. He knew, they all did, and Cassian had always been up for playing buffer between the two of them. Azriel had never faulted him for it, he had known deep down that Cassian did it for both Mor and Azriel, to protect them. And the balance of their family. It was why Cassian had only ever brought up Azriel's feelings for Mor maybe three times in all the centuries they had been friends. If he pushed too far it could have broken the delicate balance between the three of them. Between all of them.
"Leave it, Cassian." Azriel warned, flashing some of that ice at him. But Cassian stared back, unfazed.
"It's different now." Cassian pushed, hazel eyes still on him. "It has been for a while. But since Lyra…"
People didn't give Cassian enough credit. Even himself. Rhysand understood Azriel's anger better, there was doubt about that, but sometimes Cassian could read him in a way hardly anyone else could.
"You love her?" Cassian asked, in that blunt, frank way of his.
"It doesn't matter." Azriel hissed, shaking his head, teeth flashing. Anger boiled inside him, at his brother for pushing him, at fate or the Cauldron or whatever damned thing forced that bond on Lyra and brought him someone he would only lose in the end. At that damned Eris for pushing him, and in turned had Lyra pushing him away.
"It does." Cassian said, voice sharp as he finally tore his eyes away from him and back toward the city below. "You aren't the only one who cares for her, Az. She fits. With us, with this family… with you."
Azriel remained silent, chest constricting painfully as he glared out at the beautiful sunset. Did Cassian think that he didn't know that? That he didn't see how seamlessly she had become part of their lives, part of their family? Like she was made to be with them.
"I know." He hissed, his scarred fingers curling inward. "None of it matters when she wants to return to her world."
"Rhys… didn't tell you?" Cassian asked, raising a brow at him. "He told Lyra she was welcome to remain here if she wished too. He said she seemed like she wished to take him up on it."
Azriel stilled, his heart hammering painfully in his chest. Had Lyra changed her mind? If she had… he couldn't bring himself to get his hopes up. Not after he had forced himself to accept her decision, to be okay with not only not being with her but with her leaving this world all together. Her happiness had been what mattered to him, even if it meant putting his own aside.
"She… told him she wanted too?" Azriel asked carefully, chest aching painfully.
"She didn't answer. But Rhys said she looked pretty happy at the idea of it." Cassian said, his wings tucking in as he rubbed at his jaw. "You should ask her."
"I won't pressure her." Azriel said lowly, but even as he said the words, he yearned to go find her, to hear from her own mouth what her answer was.
"It's not pressure to show her you care." Cassian said, huffing out a laugh. He looked to Azriel then, studying him again. "I don't know if she realizes it herself, but she returns the feelings, Azriel. I can see it. Everyone can. It's been there between you both the moment she came out of the Cauldron."
Azriel remained silent, watching as the moon became visible in the sky above them. The night sky here was almost dull in comparison to home, like every aspect of the night had been muted. He wished he was back there, back on that balcony all those weeks ago with Lyra before things had gotten so damned complicated.
Cassian didn't understand. He didn't get that Lyra would only be weighed down by him, by his darkness and pain. For all his brother had suffered, he had never gotten to the cold place that Azriel had. He had done his fair share of dark things, Azriel knew that but Cassian seemed to always remain in the light. Had always been able to find the joy. He shook off his shadows. Azriel was always trailed by his and he couldn't bring himself to subject Lyra to that.
Cassian let out a sigh, his warm hand squeezing his shoulder again. "You would make her happy, brother. You do make her happy. I see it when she looks at you. And you both deserve that."
Before Azriel could respond, Cassian fell forward, dropping a couple feet before his wings spread and he left Azriel as he shot back toward their suite. He watched him go, his shadows hissing in his ears.
Lyra rose before any of the others, unable to sleep with so many confusing feelings and thoughts in her head. She had hardly slept, though she had gotten far more than it sounded like Mor had.
She didn't understand it, why Mor had taken the High Lord to her bed. Lyra knew she saw how Azriel felt that day, could tell but she had gone anyway. Did she not return his feelings? Was she scared, like Lyra was?
It left her more confused than when the day started and by that next day, exhausted.
Nuala and Cerridwan had come with them and though she was surprised they were up, she asked them to get her dressed and ready early, though the others were just beginning to have breakfast. She didn't want to be around others yet.
She hadn't seen Azriel since the night before. He had slipped away after dinner and had been quiet and withdrawn the whole night. She had never heard him return, even to sleep and it made her worried for where he had been. If he was still upset.
Mor had brought a rich purple dress for her today with a bodice and sleeves that were made of a floral lace and then turned into a flowing skirt. Nuala put glittering, heavy earrings in her ears and a matching necklace. Lyra wasn't sure if it was her general mood or how tired she was, but it all made her feel heavy.
She slipped out the door of their suite as the others began to get ready for the day, heading toward a small, open balcony she had seen the night before as they had been escorted to their rooms. There was a light breeze, sending the various flowers that decorated the area swaying as she moved toward the railing.
The sky was filled with an array of beautiful colors as the sun rose with fat, fluffy clouds drifting lazily through the blue sky. It was beautiful and had Lyra wondering if it was just the magic of the land or the High Lords themselves that had their part of the solar cycle looking so radiant.
Lyra heard shuffling behind her and she wasn't sure how she knew it was Azriel before she even turned. It was like she could feel him, his shadows.
He was dressed like the day before, with his deadly armor and Siphons, shadows curling around his knuckles and wings. Even as the sun hit his face, it didn't seem to illuminate it as it would a normal person, like the shadows didn't quite let it reach him.
She felt a flutter as she looked at him, deep in her chest and when he looked at her, his head tilting slightly she wondered if he could somehow feel it too. Wondered if he could see the difference in her, the way she felt. But his face gave away nothing as he stepped closer, looking cautious.
"I… just needed a minute by myself." She supplied, blushing at how jittery she sounded. It's Azriel. It's still just Azriel. She reminded herself. "Just before all the crazy started again."
That look of shame crossed his face as it had the night before and she winced. "I am-" he started, and she knew he was on his way to apologizing again but she quickly cut him off.
"I get it, Az." She assured him, trying to keep her face neural, unfazed. "He had it coming."
But she still saw guilt in his eyes as he came to stand beside her, looking out toward the city below. He was quiet for a moment, seeming to work through what he was feeling before he looked down at her again. "I was afraid I… scared you."
She studied him, the way his shadows seemed to darken with the confession. "I wanted to do worse to him." She said softly, her fist clenching around the railing. "He has a lot more owed."
Something in him eased at that and she was glad to see when his shadows pulled back, skittering away on the breeze. "Thank you." He said softly and she smiled at him, brushing a stray curl from her face before she looked out at the sky, took in the beauty of the sun rise.
"Is it like this in Day?" She asked, studying the colors and clouds and open sky. "Like… the magic makes it prettier? And is it the same with the seasons in the others?"
"Yes." He said, looking out, his hazel eyes roaming over the skyline. "For the seasonal courts, most hold their season for most of the year. And each usually have large celebrations during their own season."
"Hmmm." She muttered, before shrugging. "Home is better."
Azriel stilled next to her and she saw him looking at her, an odd look on his face as he asked, "Home?"
"Velaris." She answered, her brow furrowing in confusion. "The night there is even better than this." She said, jerking her chin toward the sky.
Azriel didn't say anything for a moment, but she saw something flicker in his eyes before the corner of his mouth twitched upward. "Yes," he agreed, the smile lightening his face. "It is."