Cassian had walked off enough battlefields, had left enough of his comrades behind to know the magnitude of this one. The fighting had ended hours ago, but still the dead and wounded had not been collected, even with the help of magic, they were still out there, he didn't have the time or space to let his guard down for one moment, to cease being the steady general and deal with the numbness in his chest. He hadn't even had time to find Azriel or Rhys, they were alive, he knew that much, but that was it.
It felt like an eternity until the battlefield was finally cleared, until he could stare out over the churned up mud, the ground stained red, and let go. Four thousand Illyrian warriors had flown to battle, only two thousand, eight hundred and eleven would return home, because of his orders, his decisions. It never got easier, the weight of deciding who lived and died, where to send reinforcements, when it was time to cut their losses. Wasted, so many lives wasted, there had been a young male, only twenty-one, Cassian had personally promoted him last week, taken a keen interest in his progress. The boy's empty eyes, pale, bloodless face would haunt his dreams for the Cauldron knew how long.
A scuff of boots warned him of someone's approach, but before he could school his features into the mask he should be wearing, the stranger spoke,
"I thought I might find you here." Azriel. Cassian sagged in relief, lost for the right words as the Shadowsinger halted beside him, falling into a comfortable silence. He only spoke once the silence became taut, as if Cassian could sever the stillness with a blow, Azriel's words halting him before he moved to step away, "I won't bother to remind you that it's not your fault, you already know that, but I will ask if you need anything,"
"I want to go home." Even to himself, his voice sounded hollow, empty. He needed time, time to process everything, and something to take his mind elsewhere, he wouldn't find it on a bloody battlefield. Azriel didn't say a word before shadows and wind wrapped around them both, carrying them home, to the House of Wind. There was something about the movement, the magic that had every emotion returning in full, every thought threatening to tear him apart. The rational part of him knew he'd minimized casualties, that had he ordered anything else, more of his warriors would lie dead or wounded, but it still hurt, and he didn't know how to make it stop. The bottle of wine he'd drained by himself after collapsing in his tent hadn't helped, even helping the wounded hadn't helped, hadn't quieted the roaring in his ears, he needed something else, and he couldn't find it.
Cassian lurched sideways as the face of that young male once again darkened his mind, barely making it to the nearest bathroom before his stomach heaved. Azriel was once again at his side, rubbing his shoulders as he retched, his empty stomach hurting with the effort of the nausea. He was used to it, it was like clockwork, after every battle, but there was nothing left, not anymore, and he closed his eyes to hide to silent tears that threatened to fall.
"Cass,"
"I'm fine," he insisted, but Azriel squeezed his shoulder again, and Cassian lifted his head to meet his gaze, whatever he had expected, it wasn't this, no condemnation, no judgement, only concern and fear met his gaze. Azriel had never been one to show his emotion outwardly, this, this was new. Raw, untamed emotion lay etched on the Shadowsinger's face, and it was for him, "I don't know what to do," he whispered, "It won't go away,"
"What won't go away?" Soft, calm, Azriel's voice slowed the pounding of Cassian's heart, steadied his nerves. He wasn't sure what to call it, guilt maybe, but it wasn't that simple,
"I don't know,"
"Tell me what you're feeling," Azriel silently led him out of the bathroom, to a room shrouded in darkness, away from everything else, just him and Azriel,
"I'm worried I made the wrong decision, I feel like I've let them down." He shuddered, the casualty list, the far too long list, and the list of families a brand in his mind, "My mind is too loud," there was no other way to describe it, loud, that's what it was, "And I can't make it go away," Azriel sighed, and gently unbuckled the straps of Cassian's armor, helping him with it until it lay in a pile in the corner,
"First, we're going to clean your armor, then your sword, and we're going to tidy it up. Then, you're going to have a bath, okay?" He could do that, bit by bit, the one part of his routine that he'd forgotten in his distraction. He nodded, and followed Azriel's lead to wipe clean the blood, mud and grime from his armor, then his weapons, noting Azriel doing to same, faster, and helping Cassian with his own. The armor stand in Cassian's room was almost too far, but Azriel hauled him to his feet, and carried what Cassian couldn't manage. It was working, each simple task, each simple instruction from Azriel drove the damning thoughts away, each task took all of his focus, not giving him time to brood. "Bath." Azriel ordered, "And we're going to talk."
Cassian wasn't sure he wanted to talk, but there was no room for argument in Azriel's tone, and he didn't bother to fight it, he'd been making so many decisions giving so many orders in the past months, it was nice for someone else to do it. He followed Azriel back down the hall, to that same room, Azriel's room, it was nice here, dark and calm, the opposite of the blinding sunlight and screams of battle.
There was already a bath waiting for him, and Azriel left him alone for a while, just long enough for him to wash, and breathe. The horrors were just threatening to return when Azriel slipped through the door, and sat beside him. He brushed a hand through Cassian's hair, and he leaned into the touch,
"You did so well today. Now I want you to tell me everything." So he did, he told Azriel about the young male who'd died, the long list of families he had to visit, the fear that he'd made a bad decision, the guilt for the soldiers he'd killed, he remembered them all, every one of their faces. He faltered, but Azriel gestured for him to continue, and he looked away, "Look at me. You're here, you're with me, and you're safe." Cassian nodded again, "Tell me what you're thinking."
"I," he hesitated again, never once had he voiced this thought, the one that came closest to tearing him apart, not once, "I thought it would never end, that I wasn't good enough," he had never quite been good enough, not because he was a bastard, not when he'd struggled to have the strength to match the high-born boys in training, not when he'd been denied promotion and opportunity, not when Rhys was captured in the Hybern war. Never. He had never been good enough.
His face must have said more than his words because Azriel stilled, his eyes glistening,
"You are everything. Brave, and strong, and intelligent, and by far the best general we could have," everything, but not enough. Perhaps it was that belief that allowed Azriel to catch him by surprise when he leaned across, pressing a kiss against Cassian's hair. Perhaps it was Azriel's words that had him closing his eyes, his mind quieting at last as he leaned back into the touch.
Azriel slipped a hand into his hair, gently tipping water over his head, but never once let go, as if he was worried that Cassian might vanish, as if, as if he needed him. Azriel needed him, he was enough, he was enough for Azriel. Every one of those thoughts he'd told Azriel vanished. Something felt right, no more words were needed, just Azriel's presence, calming his fears. His brother, that was truly what Azriel was, his brother whom he loved, whom he could fight for, this was what made him worthy, this was what they all fought for, what he had to defend. For his brothers, his family, he would go down swinging, this was what he was for.
Cassian never made it back to his own room, instead all but passing out on Azriel's bed, blinking open an eye for a heartbeat when someone else crashed his way into the room, the darkness sighing as he passed. Cassian slipped into a deeper sleep, he could rest easy now, Azriel was here, still fast asleep, and now Rhys was safe, both his brothers were with him, the family he had never had, the family he had chosen.