Disclaimer: All but Lyra belong to Sarah J Maas
For days they remained at camp, allowing the forces to heal and rest. She saw little of Cassian and Azriel during that time, with Cassian out commanding the troops and giving tasks and Azriel still out scouting for Hybern's army. To his frustration, not he or his network of spies could find where they were for days. Until days later and then they were off to plan again for the next battle.
She had offered to help Feyre and Cresseida with the glamour but it had been too big a risk when she wasn't knowledgeable enough to spin one. So she was left to help gather things for their next move.
When they did, the battle started almost as soon as they had gotten there. Cassian had planned to attack them when they were tired, had made sure their own troops were ready for it.
Nesta had joined them this time and Lyra could see that she only had eyes for Cassian. She stared and stared at him as the rain poured down on them, her fists balled tightly at her side.
Lyra could tell as soon as the battle started that Hybern wasn't as tired as they had let on. They fought viciously, tearing into their army steadily. The Darkbringer's were the first to fall, the front line buckling and Cassian was quickly roaring for them to reassemble.
It went on forever and Cassian, Tarquin, Rhys and Azriel held strong against the enemy. But Lyra could see them beginning to fade, their lines beginning to fray and once again, Keir's Darkbringer's faltered.
"Shit. Shit." Mor hissed, gripping Feyre's arm tight. Lyra could see the panic in her eyes, though she was sure it wasn't for her father or his soldiers. Her panic grew as Hybern finally burst through, cleaving the Darkbringer's in half. Lyra's fist clenched, her hands shaking as fear bit at her.
Cassian was now shouting, his Siphons flaring blasts of red as he forced himself toward the broken line. He pushed and pushed, even as Rhysand shouted at him until he was alone in the middle of the fray.
Nesta stiffened, a shuddering gasp issuing from her.
"Reform the line." Mor gasped, her eyes wide as Rhys power burst from him, slaughtering hundreds in his wake. But even from this distance Lyra could feel how diminished he was, how weak he had grown. "Reform the damned lines!"
Then Lyra saw Azriel shift into shadow, his Siphons sending bursts of blue here and there as he forced himself toward Cassian. Lyra could hardly stand it, watching him be surrounded by those soldiers.
"Mother above." Nesta whispered, voice lined with fear.
Azriel was drawing closer to Cassian, trying so hard to get to him. He was little more than a shadow and blue light as he pushed in.
"They can fix this." Feyre said, but Lyra heard her terror.
Red exploded around Cassian, sending dozens of soldiers to their deaths. But Hybern had to many surrounding him and they surged forward to replace their fallen brothers. He was so far in now, so utterly surrounded that even Azriel couldn't get to him, though he still fought like mad to get there.
Mor began to pace, snarling as she watched below. Feyre was still next to her sister, her blue gray eyes flitting all over the field, taking in every inch. But something seemed to snap in her when Cassian sent another burst of red, smaller than the last, because she grabbed for Mor and pulled her toward the side, beckoning Lyra to follow.
"You have to go help." Feyre said, her voice low. Mor's eyes widened at the words, her head shaking furiously. "Mor, they need you. They-"
"Absolutely not." Mor said, wiping at the stray hairs sticking to her face from the rain. "Absolutely not."
"Go join them." Feyre pushed, reaching out to take their friends' hand. "You're wasted here. They need you. Cassian and Az need you to push back the front lines."
Lyra bit her lip, fear churning in her stomach as she looked between Mor and the battle below. Because Feyre's words were true. They did need Mor. Badly.
But another of her friends on the battlefield… it made her whole body shake with fear.
"Rhys will kill me if I leave you here." Mor argued, but Lyra could see her own need to help winning her over.
"Rhys will do no such thing and you know it. He's got wards around this camp and we're not entitled defenseless, you know." Feyre said, squeezing her fingers before nodding again toward the battle. "Go fight. Make the Hybern pricks scream a bit."
"Help them." Nesta added, her eyes never leaving the battlefield. Never leaving Cassian as more red burst out around him and he pushed toward another commander. Was trying again to scare them enough to abandon the battle.
"Just...be on your guard." Mor ordered, straightening as she looked both Feyre and Lyra in the eye. "Both of you."
She ran toward her tent and after a few minutes she emerged, clad in her own armor and strapping blades and weapons to herself. She saluted Lyra and Feyre as Lyra gave her a strained "Stay safe," and then was gone, winnowing toward the slaughter below.
And thank God or the mother or whoever that she landed just at Azriel's side as a blow was coming for his back. She shuddered when Mor's sword flashed and went right through the soldier's throat, dropping him before he could hit Azriel.
And then they both pushed in, heading toward Cassian as he still struggled in the middle of the fray. They barely made it any closer before they were both surrounded, disappearing for a moment into the mass of bodies. Lyra's fist clenched at her side as she stared, trying to find them again in all the madness.
"You're leaving?"
Lyra tore her eyes away, following Nesta's gaze toward where Feyre was now stepping away from them. "I'll be back soon." Feyre supplied and though Nesta looked back, Lyra watched Feyre. "Stay here with her." Feyre said, her voice low.
"Where are you going?" Lyra inquired, her stomach fluttering nervously at the look on Feyre's face.
"I'll be quick, I swear. Just stay here."
"Feyre, I can't…" Lyra said, stepping closer. Feyre reached out, gripping her arm. Her face was grave but determined.
"I'm going to get help, to find the rest of their forces. But I need to find something first. You must remain here." Feyre repeated, her voice lined with command.
"I can help-"
"No. I have to go alone." Feyre said, shaking her head. She squeezed her arm once, before slipping away and taking a step back. "Stay with Nesta."
And then she was gone, stalking toward Elain's tent. Lyra watched her, a sickly feeling in her stomach before she headed back toward Nesta. To wait and watch.
"She'll be alright." Nesta said, though her eyes never left the battlefield, that spot in the middle where Cassian still held up and tried desperately to fight his way out.
"Mor and Rhysand are both going to kill me." She muttered, wrapping her arms around herself. Azriel was still back-to-back with Mor, slicing down enemies but Lyra could tell his powers were draining. Each burst of blue was smaller, injuring and killing less, unable to hit as many marks. But Mor picked up where he was faltering, her own bright magic slicing and flaring to both cut down enemies and protect Azriel.
"You couldn't have stopped her… nothing does when she wants it bad enough." Nesta whispered, brushing her wet hair away from her face, tucking it behind her pointed ears. "It has always been that way."
Lyra glanced at Nesta, her back stiff and face unreadable as she gazed down at the battle field. There was always an underlying tension between the two sisters, though Feyre seemed to try as hard as she could to smooth it. She knew a bit of their backstory, that they had lost their fortune, then their mother and finally had watched their father be broken by debt collectors. Feyre, just little more than a child, had then taught herself how to hunt and provided for their family when they're father couldn't… or wouldn't do it.
She wondered if Nesta was so tense with Feyre because she couldn't face her own guilt, her own lacking when they were growing up. If that's what seemed to always drive Nesta's harshness.
Lyra had been like that once. Quick to push away and hurt others before they inevitably hurt her first. It had taken a long while to unlearn it.
Nesta gave a shuddering breath at something in the battlefield, breaking Lyra from her thoughts. Cassian had gotten closer to the General he was trying to challenge, but he was weak, so much weaker than the last time and one of the soldiers had slammed his blade down, catching his armor. Cassian faltered, nearly losing his footing before he swung around and in several blows, he finally had the man down. But it had cost him and she could see him struggle further as he pushed himself into the mess of bodies.
She took a step closer to Nesta, her hand coming to rest on her arm as she looked down at the battle, her heart hammering. She could see Azriel, still fighting to get to his brother, but she had lost sight of Mor.
To her surprise, Nesta gripped her hand back, her long fingers squeezing hers. So tight it almost hurt.
"They'll be okay." She said, more to herself then Nesta.
They watched together, hands still tightly gripped, as Cassian fought his way toward that general and the others tried to get to him. Rhysand was furthest and Lyra could see the rage on his face, could feel it in the air with his power as he yelled for Cassian. His words were lost in the sounds of battle, but Lyra was sure he was trying to get Cassian to stop, to pull back. Mor had finally re-emerged from the chaos, now lagging behind Azriel who had gotten himself ahead and the closest to Cassian. But still so far. Too far.
Azriel was shadows and blue, turning into a swirling mass of black before taking form again as to strike down someone else. He did this as much as he could, smoke and strike, smoke and strike. Until-
Lyra shuddered as a soldier charged him just as he materialized, slamming a shield into his side and taking him down to the ground. Mor shouted for him, cried out but she wasn't close enough.
Get up. Get up. Get up. Lyra begged, her breath shallow, panic rising as soldiers surrounded him and she lost sight of him.
Mor's power burst from her, clearing a path toward where Azriel had fallen but she was slower now, fading like the others. She drew closer and Lyra nearly cried in relief when she saw a burst of blue, pushing them back and Azriel appeared. Mor reached him, seeming to check him for injuries before they both pushed forward again.
Cassian had now reached the General, most of the other soldiers seeming to clear a ring around them as he drew toward him. A couple dared to try to take Cassian down first, but he cut them down with a couple of hits and a flash of his sword and then it was just him and Hybern's General.
The General struck first, bringing his heavy sword down on Cassian but her friend dodged it, turned to land a strike of his own. It sent him stumbling back, but he recovered quickly. He seemed to realize how tired Cassian was and from the way he now lashed out at him, it was obvious he was trying to wear him down enough to land a killing blow. But Cassian held his own and Lyra didn't understand where he was drawing the strength from.
It went on and on, both slashing and pushing each other. The General would land a blow, only for Cassian to strike back with his own. He was in his dance again, leading his symphony of death.
And the General was losing. Even with Cassian depleted, the General was no match for the Illyrian. She could see him beginning to realize it, despite his advantage of having reserved his energy. The other Hybern soldiers realized it too, because a couple surged forward, attacking Cassian from the side and pulling his focus and attention from the General.
Then he struck, his blade piercing Cassian in the gut. Nesta let out a strangled cry, jerking forward as though she would run into the battle herself.
Lyra's head was nothing but horrible, piercing silence and then just Cassian's roar of pain. The General dug the blade in, yanking it up and out, sending blood splattering to the ground. Lyra held Nesta as she shook, a cry leaving her as she saw that red. Then the General lifted his blade again, a look of dark delight on his face and-
Azriel was there, a blur of shadows and he tackled the General to the ground and in a flash, Truth Teller was in his throat. Mor sent her power over the two soldiers that had distracted Cassian and with a twist of her hand they were nothing but dust and blood on the wind.
Then Rhysand was there, using every bit of his strength to clear a path for them as Azriel grabbed for Cassian, hauling him up. Nesta shuddered when blood poured from him and Lyra swayed as she realized why Azriel was grabbing at Cassian's stomach, trying desperately to hold him.
To hold in his brother's insides.
Mor was at his back, protecting the two of them as they struggled to get out of the fighting.
It was torture, pure torture watching them get out. To watch Rhysand and Tarquin begin to finish the rest of Hybern's soldiers. It was a blur of panic as it finally began to die down and she watched her friends struggle to bring in Cassian.
"Help him." Nesta whispered, her grip tightening on Lyra so much it became painful. She nodded toward Cassian, her eyes wide and lined with tears. "You can heal him. Do it."
Lyra nodded, swallowing painfully as she pulled herself away from Nesta and began to run toward where Mor and Azriel had now winnowed, both swaying as they held him up. "Lyra…" Mor gasped, voice trembling. "Lyra, please…"
"Get him inside." She ordered, her voice surprisingly even as she stalked forward, jerking her chin toward the nearest tent. She could do this… she had to do this. She would not let Cassian die.
Azriel and Mor hauled him inside, his legs and wings dragging behind him and face etched in pain. They laid him on the cot there as gently as they could and Lyra heard wails and screams begin outside as they slaughtered the remaining soldiers. She flinched but steeled herself as she came to kneel beside Cassian.
Azriel had patched him best he could with what was left of his sputtering Siphons, a film of blue the only thing holding in his insides. He was now staring at his brother, cold anger and pain in his eyes and he flexed his blood coated fingers at his side.
"Where is Feyre?" Mor breathed, seeming to realize that the High Lady hadn't followed them inside.
But Lyra ignored her, instead concentrating on closing her eyes and reaching toward that power. She wouldn't be able to take just a tiny bit from it like she had Azriel. It would take far more to heal Cassian.
She vaguely heard Mor leaving the tent behind her, leaving her alone with Cassian and Azriel. She took a steadying breath, digging deep inside herself toward that light flickering through the metal she had erected around it. She began to dismantle part of it, enough to allow her to take the amount to fix Cassian's wound but not enough to unleash all of it and overwhelm her with all the other power and people around her. It was a delicate process, one Amren had made her practice over and over until it became as easy as breathing.
She found that healing part of her and as she let it flow over her, she felt that familiar warmth. This part was good, it was light and life and growth. It was creation itself.
She brought it up, forcing it into her hands, out of herself. Kept it there, steadying herself before she opened her eyes. She saw it in her glowing hands, felt it along her skin and she moved her hands above that horrible, jagged wound.
The tent flap opened, revealing Mor, her face dark and angry, though Lyra wasn't sure if it was from Cassian's wound or something outside. Rhysand and Feyre came moments later, both panting as they watched her with wide eyes.
She let that warm power flow over Cassian, the glow leaking slowly into his opening. It ran along it and Lyra could feel it as it began to knit the skin back together, inch by inch. Mor spoke in the background, her voice harsh, filled with rage and Lyra shut it out to concentrate. She grit her teeth, keeping that flow steady, until finally it was closed, not even a red mark left on his stomach.
Only smooth skin now, no wound in sight.
A hand dropped to her shoulder, squeezing and she looked up to see Azriel staring down at her, relief on his face and emotion swimming in his eyes. She smiled back, her own relief filling her.
She had done it.
Azriel helped her up, his blood coated fingers wrapping around her waist to steady her as she swayed. Her head was light, but it didn't matter. She had helped Cassian. She had saved him.
Rhys waved his hand, a chair appearing and Azriel gently helped her into it. "Thank you." Rhysand whispered, those violet eyes swimming as he looked down at her. She could only nod.
She closed her eyes, taking a moment to steady herself and when she opened them again, she saw Cassian beginning to stir. His face scrunched in pain and a low groan sounded from him as Rhysand came to stand at the end of his cot.
"How bad?" He whispered hoarsely, looking down at Rhysand.
"How bad was your injury or how badly did we get our asses kicked?" Rhysand asked, tilting his head at his brother, anger simmering there. "To answer your second question, we managed."
Something changed in Rhys' voice, becoming sharp and lined with barely contained rage. Azriel stood a bit straighter next to her, his hand coming to rest on the back of her chair. Mor took a couple steps back, that anger still lining her beautiful face.
"Keir took heavy hits, but… we won. Barely. To answer the first…" Rhysand's teeth were a flash of white as he bared them at his brother. "Don't you ever pull that kind of shit again."
Cassian blinked, seeming to fully come back to himself and he tried to sit up, but winced.
"Your guts were hanging out, you stupid prick. Az held them in for you." Rhysand snarled. Lyra flinched, looking to Azriel, his face lined with cold anger. She could smell Cassian's blood still on his hand that now gripped the back of her chair tightly. "You're lucky Lyra fixed it."
"I'm a soldier. It's part of the job." Cassian said simply, shrugging one of his muscled shoulders.
"I gave you an order to wait." Rhysand growled. "You ignored it."
"The line was breaking. Your order was bullshit."
"I am your High Lord." Rhys snarled, leaning closer to Cassian's face and Lyra shivered at that command in his voice. She had never seen him like this, had never seen him pull rank on his friends.
"Don't you pull rank because you're pissed off-" Cassian snapped, pushing himself up fully.
"You and your damned theatrics on the battlefield nearly got you killed." Rhysand hissed, but that mask of rage broke and she saw fear, real, terrible fear in his eyes. "I'm not pissed. I'm furious."
"So you're allowed to be mad about our choices to protect you, but we're not allowed to be mad about you and your self-sacrificing bullshit?"
They stared at each other, emotion simmering between them.
"You could have died." Rhysand repeated, but his voice was softer, shaking.
"So could you." Cassian answered, shaking his head.
"After Hybern, I can't stomach it." Rhysand admitted, his eyes closing briefly as a shuddering breath left him.
Feyre was moving back, heading toward the opening of the tent to leave the brothers. Lyra stood, Azriel just behind her with his hand hovering near her back to steady her if she needed it and they followed her out, Mor at their heels.
Nesta was there, a bucket of water in her hands and face pale and Lyra couldn't help but wonder if she had been waiting there the whole time. She offered her a smile, before saying, "He's okay. It's all fixed."
She let out a relieved sigh, shoulders dropping.
"Shouldn't you be refilling that bucket?" Mor snapped, surprising Lyra. Azriel had turned, striding away and she saw him limping, his shadows darkening and she quickly set off toward him, fear sliding down her spine.
"Azriel." She called sharply and he turned, raising a brow at her as she looked down, searching for where he was injured. "What's wrong?"
He blinked, looking confused for a moment before he realized what she was talking about. He shook his head, clearly beginning to wave her off but she gave him a glare. "Where, Az?" She snapped. He took her in, the flat, steely look she gave him before he sighed.
"It's just a bruise. From a shield." He said, waving a hand toward his side and she remembered when that soldier had tackled him, throwing him to the ground.
"Come on." She said, jerking her head toward her tent nearby.
"It's alright, Lyra. You used enough on Cassian-"
"Now, Az, before I make you." She snarled, flashing her teeth at him. He stared, almost looking amused before he relented and followed her slowly into her tent. She pushed the flaps open, allowing him inside before she nodded toward a chair. He sat slowly and she could see he tried hard not to wince as he did. "How do you get all this off?" She asked, looking at the straps and leather that held his armor.
He began to lift his arms, but she pushed them down with a sharp look and he sighed before saying, "Start with the straps on the side."
She followed his instructions, gently unstrapping him before she was able to pull the heavy armor up. He unfortunately had to lift his arms and she saw him clench his jaw as he did. She quickly took it off, setting it aside before she lifted his undershirt and hissed when she saw the splotchy, dark bruise that marred his side. "It's not that bad." He said softly, shrugging a shoulder.
"Shut it." She ordered, pulling another chair close to sit knee to knee with him. "Let me magic Greys Anatomy this bitch, alright?"
He shook his head, but she saw his lips twitch upward as he held his shirt up for her. She saw the ending of some swirling tattoos near his midsection that looked similar to the one's she had seen on Cassian and it made her wonder if the three brothers had matching one's, if they were Illyrian.
"Was I supposed to understand that?" He asked dryly.
"No." She said simply, flashing him a smile before she closed her eyes and focused.
It took less time since her cage was still open, that power thrumming inside, just waiting for her to call it. She pulled again, just as she had with Cassian, before opening her eyes and pressing that glowing palm to his muscled chest. He eased into her touch, skin warm against her palm and she sent that power flowing over him, over that dark bruise-
She felt something flutter in her chest, pulling at her from within as that power leaked into Azriel. Her brow furrowed and for a moment she wondered if she had imagined it but then it was there again, tugging.
Her fingers of her free hand ran along her stomach, just below her ribs where she felt the sensation and as they did, she saw it… sparkling there between them. That iridescent, beautiful cord from the Cauldron, from her dream. It seemed to pulse and for the first time she felt what was at the end of it.
Writhing shadows, darkness, that Illyrian power. And that gentleness, that kindness and everything that was just him. That was Azriel.
"Lyra?" Azriel whispered, looking confused as she stared and stared at that cord.
Like a bridge between souls.
She started, jerking back from him as Feyre's words from weeks ago echoed in her head. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, her mind a swirl of emotions as she shook, unable to do anything but stare at it. Did he see it too? Did he feel it? Did he even know?
"Lyra," Azriel said, worry lining his voice as he gently lifted her chin, pulling her focus to him. "What's wrong? What-"
"Did you know?" She whispered, the words slipping out before she could stop them.
The males usually do before the females.
"Know-" he started, brow furrowing in confusion.
"I can see it and I felt it… felt you… " she gasped, her fingers again running over that place below her ribs. He watched her, still confused for half a moment before realization hit him. She saw it, could feel it dawn on him and her stomach sank painfully as she realized he knew. He had known. "How long?"
He was silent for a moment, his shadows darkening around him as he stared at her hand and she wondered again if he could feel it like she did, pulsing between them. "I felt it… after returning from Adriata."
For weeks. He had known for weeks.
She remembered the moment he was talking about, when he had found her in the library. She remembered that look of shock on his face, the one she had thought was from pain.
And then how he had pulled away. How he had gotten away from her the moment he could.
"Why…" she wrapped her arms around herself, stomach churning painfully. Tears stung her eyes and she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "You knew for weeks and you didn't…"
He hadn't wanted her to know. He hadn't wanted any of it.
Why would he, when he held feelings for another woman. When it was forced on him, a chain forever binding him to someone who wasn't the person he even wanted. To a broken girl plagued by her pain and suffering.
"I-" he started, but she shook her head, standing and stepping back. She couldn't stand it, couldn't take the words that were coming, the rejection. He would be kind, she knew that, but she couldn't listen to it.
"Please go." She whispered, her voice shaking as she held herself. She dug her nails into her arm, the pain biting at her, helping hold in her emotions.
"Lyra-"
"Azriel, please get out." She begged, her voice breaking. He stared, flinching at the sound of her pain but he gave a nod, grabbing his armor and pushed his way out the tent, the flap blowing in the wind.
She could do little more than fall into the chair before she let out a sob.