A warm stream of air carried Azriel through the evening sky, its colors announcing the impending sunset. High enough to feel detached from those weighted worries of the living but close enough to see his destination, he lingered in the sky, allowing not only his body to travel on the warm breeze but his mind as well. The beat of his wings was a steady sound breaking through the calm air around him, a noise that brought both joy and sorrow to his chest.
A reminder of what once had been taken from him, what he had fought for to gain and cherished thoroughly once he finally did. Centuries had passed and yet the moment he'd spread his wings following the call of the wind, getting carried away on its whispers, he still felt that spark.
Every single time.
Azriel liked to imagine it was a spark of an emotion close to happiness, to a state of peace. The sky was the only shelter his mind was able to accept, it seemed. These moments were as precious as rare, and right now even more needed. Facing his brothers before his thoughts were sorted and that damned need buried was not only a bad idea but simply not an option.
They wouldn't understand. Rhys had proved as much.
"One need might rightfully exist without reason. It is you always questioning who, rather than what."
With one forceful beat of his wings, Azriel shot up to a new altitude, leaving several meters behind. He blinked down to the shrinking outlines of buildings, streets and the even smaller points of Velaris' residents.
Unfortunately, his shadows' whispers couldn't get as easily left behind. Their words echoed through his head, blending out the calm noise of his wing beats and replacing it with the very word that seemed to haunt him for eternity.
Mate.
A blessing gifted to few, the idea of unconditional belonging, of finding peace in another's arms seemed to be the bane of his very being. A curse he had been trying to outrun his whole life.
Here he was, flying above Velaris right over the streets and bridges that connected the River House and the Town House. His current escape route. Connecting the one place he came from, couldn't wait to get away from after seeing her for the first time in weeks; and the other place - his destination, where his brothers were waiting for him, to celebrate Cas' on the night before his mating ceremony tomorrow.
It was somewhat a symbol of his life.
Ironically, even.
The encounter with Elain right before he left for the Town House if it could be called as such. It had been more of a battle of burning glances, with him watching her from afar. It seemed to be the only thing he was destined to do. Another female that the Cauldron didn't deem him worth a mate for. Maybe it was his destiny to be alone.
"You are not alone."
Azriel sighed. That much was true.
He was never alone. Never in silence. Never at peace.
Not mentally.
His eyes roamed over the city, its lights steadily increasing with the darkness of the night looming right beyond the horizon. Darkness, his ever-present company. It was a fate he believed to have accepted a long time ago, his fate of loneliness, the nonexistence of that one soul able to bring him lightness and set him at peace.
And now he was on his way to celebrate the very bond that had been withheld from him, that he was doomed to watch from a distance, experienced and cherished by his brothers. But never by him.
"That's rather begrudging."
Another hard wingbeat rattled his shadows that were settling at their commonplace between his shoulders. Azriel did not hold any grudge against them. His brothers deserved the world. And more. Watching Rhysand with Feyre and Nyx, just like Cassian with Nesta, bestowed him with a similar spark of emotion like the one whenever he shot into the sky, enjoying its embrace of freedom. He was happy for them. And yet he couldn't help but feel-
"Jealous."
"So much for setting my mind at peace," Azriel muttered to himself as well as his shadows.
Bending his wings into the stream of air, he rushed forward until he could make out the outlines of the Town House in one of the streets under him. His abdominal muscles tensed with the shift on his back, a controlled movement of folding his wings only the slightest of bits, yet its execution engaged his back muscles heavily. The fabric of his shirt felt too tight with his tense muscles pushing against the lines of his Illyrian leathers.
It was always the smallest or the slowest of movements that required the most control and strength. Small steps with the biggest impact.
After all, the hardest part of flying wasn't the prospect of falling but the landing.
Azriel pulled his wings tighter to his body, folding them enough to speed up his fall. Holding his wings steady while leaning into the downward stream of air, Azriel allowed himself to fall down with the cold airstream for a few seconds. Only when he could see the front door of the Town House opening, he spread his wings again, catching his fall just on time to land on steady feet.
Still, the force of his landing shook through him like lightning through a night sky.
"One could think you're on the run," Cassian greeted him with two drinks in his hands. "Did Gwyn take the stairs or flew down with you?"
Azriel could barely recall the words he was hearing, his focus heavily resting on the content of his brother's hands. He felt his legs moving forward, felt his fingers closing around one of the glasses in Cassian's hands before raising it to his lips and drowning it. Azriel swallowed deeply. Whatever the glasses contained, it burned in his throat, blissfully so. He pushed the empty glass back into Cas' hand while reaching out for the other.
A few heartbeats later, his throat burned like fire, a warmth spread in his stomach and his mind felt slightly numb. His brother was standing on the threshold with two now empty glasses in hand, watching him with raised eyebrows.
"I run from nothing," Azriel said, a grim smirk displayed on his face.
"That's rich-"
Rustling his wings and successfully shaking his shadows enough to silence them, he clapped Cassian on the shoulders before looking over them to Rhys who was silently waiting in the foyer behind Cas, a smirk adorning his face. "Now that Az had two, I could also use a drink."
"That's my cue," Cassian smirked while turning around into the foyer, leaving Azriel standing outside the opened front door.
He followed after Cas, stopping at Rhys' side, ignoring the assessing look on his brother's face.
"They've all arrived at the River House?" Rhys asked, despite knowing just as much as Azriel. Surely, Feyre would contact him at any moment, sharing what they were doing at Nesta's celebrations.
"Yes," he answered anyway. They both watched in silence as Cassian returned to them carrying three fresh glasses filled to the brim with whisky.
Rhys raised an eyebrow at him, his frown directed at the drinks. "That's-"
"Needed." Cas shrugged and handed a glass to each of them.
Watching his brothers exchanging a single glance was reason enough to force a tight breath out of Azriel's lungs, hoping it would take his inner tension with it.
He was here for Cassian. For his brother. He was here to celebrate his mating bond.
"Well, cheers to me," Cassian grinned and clinked his glass to Azriel's before turning to Rhys.
Smirking, Azriel raised his glass to him, eager to drink on his luck. And drinking, he would.
The black marble of the fireplace appeared to gleam in the warm light radiating from the burning flame.
"It is too bright-"
Azriel tried to concentrate on the sound of the crackling fire.
"-too hot."
It had only taken a few more emptied glasses to remember why he didn't indulge in drinking.
"It is too loud."
Not with his ever apparent company, the many whispers of his shadows in his ear.
"Nyx is sleeping."
A never-ceasing stream of noises, transpassing information and secrets.
"They are dancing."
There were too many voices inside his head. It had taken him decades to figure out how to mute the majority, to focus on the few that mattered.
"The little siren is dancing, too."
He had to if he didn't want to lose his mind. To get carried away on their waves of whispers. After hundreds of years of roaming this world in the wake of his shadows, he was damn good at it.
"Your High Lord is watching you."
Sober, that was.
"It will fall."
Now, not so much.
The sound of breaking glass made him look up in surprise.
"We told you."
Averting his gaze from the fireplace he looked down at the floor to his feet, the glass that he had placed on his knee now broken into shards on the floor. Thankfully, it had been empty.
"Ah, fuck," he murmured before resting back on the couch. Cassian's laugh was sloppy, accompanied by a rather heavy hiccup. He was laying spread out on the carpet in front of the fireplace, with several glasses both empty and filled balanced on his stomach.
"A little off-balance, Az?" Cas slurred, his hiccup shaking his body and leaving a few of the glasses dangerously close to falling off of him, too.
With a flick of his wrist, Rhys vanished the broken glass with a low snicker, before he leaned back into his armchair.
"Show off," Azriel remarked with a grin.
"No more than usual," Rhys smirked in response.
Despite the empty bottles standing between them, of which Azriel believed a heavy share went on Rhys' account, he returned Azriel's gaze almost steady. Or was it him with a clearer sight?
"You are both swaying on your seats."
So they were swaying in unison, then. "Nice," Azriel approved their drunken cooperation.
"They are still dancing."
"Sounds fun." Staring at the cloud of shadows looming above his shoulder, Azriel tried to recall the last time he danced. Not that it mattered. He shrugged, turning away from his shadows.
"What is it?" Rhys tilted his head to him, with his eyebrows raised in question.
Opening his mouth to answer, Azriel stopped himself, unsure of what to say. He hadn't focused on either, his shadows' whispers nor his brother's words. And he certainly hadn't intended to answer his shadows out loud. He never did.
At the sound of Cas' sigh, they both turned to face him, watching him staring at the ceiling with a frown on his face.
"Doesn't it bother you that she painted everyone's eyes but yours?" Cas asked, his voice travelling to the ceiling as if the conversation had never been interrupted. Azriel blinked in surprise, trying to catch on Cassian's line of thought while the room filled with silence.
"The cabin."
"Actually … yes and no," Rhys answered after a few more heartbeats passed in silence. His tone was low and quiet, as he was staring into the crackling fire while Azriel's gaze rested on his face.
Leaning forward, Azriel took a fresh bottle into his hand, opened it to refill Rhys' glass with whisky and pour a new glass for his own. He knew about the paintings, they all did. He even had seen them after last Winter Solstice, when the three of them went to the cabin for their yearly snowball fight. The one he lost. Azriel huffed out a breath, remembering Cas' dance of victory in amusement. And Rhys' face as he lost. Not that his brother had minded much. Today, Azriel knew why Cas had put such an effort into his throws, where all that energy had come from. It had been the same reason why Rhys had been distracted the whole fight, with his mind and heart left at Velaris, waiting for him to return.
A distraction that had cost his win. But gained him something far more precious.
"You knew back then. We knew."
"I could always ask her to add mine," Rhys continued, oblivious to where Azriel's mind had wandered.
With a smug grin on his face, Rhys turned his eyes from the fire to Cassian. "You could. Feyre is your mate, there's nothing she wouldn't do for you," Cassian grinned back at Rhys.
"They will die for each other."
"True," Rhys answered with a similar dreamy expression adorning his face to the one visible on Cassian's.
Lucky bastards.
"Or you could just do it yourself," Azriel found himself saying.
His words were followed by reactions as unexpected as strong.
Cassian suddenly raised into a sitting position, sending several glasses flying down to the floor. The sounds of shattering glass followed by the noise of one lone glass rolling through the pool of whisky on the hardwood floor in front of the fireplace were only broken by a single word.
"Now?" Rhys asked, his voice filled with excitement and eagerness. His brothers grinned at each other, while Azriel tried to recall how they went from drinking tiredly to planning a trip to the Illyrian Mountains. But-
"Why not?" Azriel felt a grin forming on his lips, joining the excitement of Cas and Rhys whose eyes gleamed dangerously familiar.
He knew that look.
He knew it well.
"Whisky and fire do not do well together."
Watching the two with bated breath, he was sure they could see the same look on his face; was sure they waited just like him for-
"Let's set the stakes," Cassian announced, the first to give in to the pull.
It was the thrill of the game.
On a field of players you know better than anyone, better than yourself even, each move was not calculated but driven by instinct.
It had to be.
Azriel knew as much as Cas and Rhys how the rest of this conversation would go. Just like the thousand times before.
But it didn't matter. Neither the plan nor the stakes were important.
The execution was the fun part. Doing it together. As one.
"It must be done with Feyre's favourite painting brush," Cassian started.
"Hm," Rhys hummed, momentarily distracted by the increasingly loud crackling fire. He squinted his eyes for a moment, before the empty glasses and wet patches of whisky disappeared with another flick of his wrists, causing Cassian to look over his shoulder at the flickering flame and Azriel to roll his eyes.
"Flames dancing like the little siren."
"It's in our bed-chamber at the River House," Rhys continued, his tone unbothered.
"Yeah?" Cas challenged.
"The place where your mate is hosting a females-only party," Rhys huffed.
"So what?" The grin on Cas' face widened at the prospect of going there.
Azriel rolled his eyes again.
"It's also the room where Nyx is sleeping right now." Rhys' voice was a little soberer now, despite the excited gleam still visible in his eyes.
"Then the mission is getting in and out undetected. Extra points for not waking the babe."
It took Cas two attempts to get to his feet. After he managed, he grinned proudly and clapped in his hands. Shaking his head in silent amusement, Azriel couldn't help but grin back at him. Apparently, the whisky sent them all in a grinning mood today.
"Better than your earlier sulking."
True.
Still, Azriel rolled his eyes another time, courtesy of his amusement. "I know what you're doing," he exclaimed plainly.
It was clear Cas' eagerness was not due to his desire to get Feyre's favourite painting brush but close to Nesta. Perhaps it was based on the thrill of a challenge, too. But that was nothing Azriel would bet on.
"Let's raise the stakes," he continued, not willing to see the rare time spent with only his brothers coming to an end so soon. "It has to be done without sparing a single glance at any mates," Azriel said with a raised eyebrow directed at Cas who only shrugged in response. "It's your last night as an unmated male, after all," Azriel provided an unasked reason.
"You doubt I could do it?" Cassian asked in return.
"Odds are, you can. For Rhys on the other hand…"
It felt good, the banter and laughter with them. After getting up from his armchair, Azriel cracked his knuckles, his eyes focussed on Rhys with a provoking smirk plastered on his lips.
"You're on." The playful grin on Rhys' face vanished, replaced by the unmistakable look of determination, his eyes sparkling in light of the challenge. Normally, it could be a rather intimidating sight, his mask of severity and firmness. Azriel had seen many Fae crumbling under Rhys scrutinizing gaze. And even more, missions unfold to perfection.
"Ready?"
The rules were set. The mission was clear. The fun was on.
Azriel emptied another glass on the go and cradled a full bottle to his chest while following said intimidating High Lord in question who swayed more than walked to the front door and needed to brace himself on the doorframe. He heard Cas chuckle before he felt one of his heavy arms resting slumped over his shoulders, his voice overly loud in his ears. "Let's fly."
"This is going to be fun."
"You okay?" Rhys whispered.
Glaring over his shoulder into the darkness at the shaking outlines of Cas, who tried to physically force his laughter back into his mouth by biting on his knuckles, Azriel plucked twigs and leaves from his hair. This had not been going according to plan.
"Never mention-" Azriel paused to gulp some air, "-it."
He shifted his eyes to that damned bush, glaring at it even harder.
"That was a clear ambush," he whispered into the darkness and plucked another twig from his shirt.
"Be thankful that it caught your fall."
Cassian should be the one thankful. Only the Mother knew why Cas suddenly felt the need to hug him while flying. It had been hard enough as it was, coordinating his limbs while staying in the air.
"It's called love attack, Az," Cas chuckled low before turning towards the River Houses entrance and facing a grinning Rhys. Azriel steadied himself against the fence, his vision still a little blurry.
"Let's go," Rhys murmured before creeping forward and reaching for the door handle.
"What about your wards, Rhysie?" Cas suddenly cried out.
Jumping forward with wide eyes, Azriel put a hand over his mouth, trying to silence him.
"Shh, they'll hear us."
Azriel blinked up the facade, exhaling in relief to see all windows still dark.
"You're covering my eyes, Az."
"Oh," Azriel murmured and stepped back from him.
"Everyone is still in the garden."
"My magic recognizes us, dumbass," Rhys remarked and carefully opened the door with one pull. They all seemed to hold their breaths, lingering on their spot, not daring to move a single muscle. The only sound travelling through the opened door was music, though.
A happy tune, its melody inviting, its beat energetic.
"That's one of the songs I recorded on her Syp... Symphna," Cas slurred with a content smile on his face.
That lovesick bastard. Azriel giggled, pushing his enamoured brother forward.
"Symphonia."
Even though he tried to focus on every step, Azriel leaned just as much against Cas as his brother against him in search of support.
"Not that you would ever admit it."
With his mind dazed, his vision blurry and his limbs tired, he'd be glad if he remembered it at all by tomorrow.
Rhys was first to step into his house and Azriel gathered the energy to follow with some measured breaths, pulling Cas after him over the threshold and quietly closing the door after they joined Rhys' waiting form in the entrance hall.
The music continued, echoing through the grand hall.
They faced their next opponent.
The winding staircase.
Azriel stepped forward, ready to take that stone-made obstacle. When neither Rhys nor Cas moved from their spot, he turned around and caught them both looking at a closed door across the hall in longing. The door leading to the garden. To their mates.
"They are dancing together, barefoot on the grass."
"Focus," he hissed, effectively demanding their attention. They watched him standing in front of the first step, silently pointing up to the upper levels of the house. With a sigh leaving his lips, Rhys moved and stepped up beside him while Cas cast another glance toward the place the music was coming from.
So painfully close to their first target, after successfully flying here despite their current state, it became clear their biggest obstacle was indeed rooted in intoxication.
But not the obvious one.
Even if they hadn't drunk a single glass, their mission would end right here, victim to the same reason.
"You lovesick bastard," Azriel muttered and walked over to Cassian, his body a swaying shadow in the darkness of the hall.
"She'll be all yours by tomorrow," he said gentler as he took one of Cas' hands and led him towards the stairs where Rhys was silently waiting, leaning against the railing.
Leading the way, Rhys started climbing the stairs. With one hand firmly grasped on the railing to steady himself, Azriel pushed Cassian's heavy body up the first steps, following after Rhys. When Azriel had pushed Cas up almost to the middle of the stairway, Rhys stumbled and nearly managed to send Cas and therefore Azriel back down on their asses.
"Wait a sec," Rhys murmured, sitting down and resting his head in his hands. It was somehow comforting to know he wasn't the only one with a spinning vision. Still, they needed to go. They were lucky they hadn't been detected yet.
"Crawling would be easier."
"Prop up on your hands," Azriel advised through gritted teeth, Cassian's weight slowly dragging him down to his knees.
He watched for a moment, as Rhys turned back around and continued ascending the stairs on all four now. Barely suppressing his laughter on his own, he couldn't blame Cas for giggling loudly.
"Nice ass, Rhysie."
"You better move yours," sounded from above, the words loud enough to make Az push Cassian up the rest of the steps rather quickly. Once they arrived at the top, he fell against the wall in search of support, his breath coming raggedly.
"Thanks," Cas slurred from his point where Azriel had left him resting on the ground.
"High Lord, Commander and Spymaster defeated by a winding staircase."
"That wasn't too bad," Rhys commented with a smirk, still panting when he straightened up to his full height, offering a hand to Cas. Once they were all back on their feet, more or less steadily standing on their own, they continued their way down the hall until coming to a stumbling halt in front of a double-winged door.
"That's it." Azriel felt a new spark of excitement rising in his chest as he exchanged a proud grin with both of his brothers.
"Remember the extra points," Rhys remarked with a solemn expression on his face before he cautiously opened the door, leading the way into his bed-chamber.
After a soft push against his back, Cas stumbled forward, leaving Az to enter the room last just like he preferred it to be. They stepped into complete darkness, the lone light beam coming from the hallway gone once he closed the door. He turned towards the room, squinting his eyes to make out the outlines of Cas' and Rhys' bodies.
"Cassian is two steps in front of you, Rhysand three to your right."
The perks of being a shadowsinger.
"I can't see," Cas complained just when a loud rumble emitted in front of Az, followed by several curses.
"Fucking furniture."
"Shhh," came from a spot to his right.
"How should I know? I've never been in here before," Cas whispered.
"I would hope so." Rhys' chuckle was low and quiet, everything that Cas sudden laugh was not.
"Six steps ahead. The curtains open to the right."
Azriel carefully stepped forward, raising his left hand into the darkness. He allowed himself a satisfied smile that nobody would see when he heard the pleasant noise of his palm smacking against Cas' back of the head.
"Ouch."
"Silence is a virtue, Cas," Az chuckled as he passed him.
Four steps later, his outstretched hands collided with the soft yet heavy fabric of the curtains. Pulling them back until a small gap appeared that allowed the moonlight to enter the room, illuminating their surroundings enough to make out clear outlines, Azriel blinked up into the night sky.
He heard his brothers rustling through the room, heard their quiet whispers, the noise of drawers opening and getting shut again, of low chuckles and even quieter banter. The thick cloud of swirling shadows around his head probably blended out a lot of the moonlight that could find its way through the gap between the curtains if he wouldn't be standing there.
Still, Azriel didn't feel like moving, couldn't make a single muscle work as he stood there, his gaze slowly travelling down from the night sky to the scene playing out in the backyard of the house. He blinked down at the warmly illuminated garden, at the females, he called friends, some family, who were all gathered there. At the sight of Amren dancing in such an expressive way, she nearly kicked Emerie out of the way, he needed to suppress a giggle that would surely wake up Nyx. His eyes roamed the garden, lingering on a spot near the rose bushes where a familiar face was turned in a way he could watch her beauty, her golden brown hair and big brown eyes.
"You're drooling."
Eyes that seemed to spark with a hard gleam, as Elain was staring right across the garden.
Following her line of sight, his eyes travelled back to the three dancing shapes on the grass, to one swiftly swirling body in particular. Her hair gleamed almost like dancing flames under the soft touch of the moonlight. Dancing flames that followed her every step, every turn like a wave of fire. With his eyes transfixed on her and his shadows calmy levitating around him in silence, Azriel startled heavily at the sudden sound of Rhys' voice.
"Got it," he announced excitedly, presenting a single paintbrush to them as Azriel turned away from the window, joining Rhys at one of the dressers.
"Mission one completed," Az grinned back at him.
"Naturally," Rhys remarked with a smirk, his pride big enough to overshadow the fact that he needed to lean against the dresser to support his legs.
"Your bonus points are in danger."
"Where's Cas?" Azriel asked after he watched their target object resting in Rhys' hands for a few heartbeats and deciding to never again plan any missions after drinking whisky.
They both turned, squinting their eyes into the dark room, finding Cassian's shape standing beside Nyx's crib.
"He's so adorable," Cas' slurred over his shoulder, his gaze resting on the babe in the cradle.
With a content smile on his face, Rhys walked over to his sleeping son. Azriel joined his brothers only a few moments later, the three of them now gathered around the cradle, watching Rhys' sleeping son in silence.
"Such tiny fingers." Cas hiccuped quietly. "And those tiny wings," his brother continued, completely enchanted.
Rhys giggled, nodding in agreement to Cas' lulled words.
"He's perfect," he murmured solemnly after his giggle faded away, leaving him staring at his son in wonder and bewilderment.
Azriel stared down into the crib, his mind oddly silent, his heart pounding wildly to the beat of a wave of gratefulness rushing through his veins.
There weren't many things Azriel believed in.
He trusted the sun would rise in the morning, just like life would vanish once fallen victim to the blade of Truth-Teller.
Azriel believed in the forces of nature.
The truest of all, his ever-present company. He believed in death.
But standing there, beside his brothers, watching the still so very young spark of life peacefully breathing in sleep, Azriel couldn't help but also believe in happiness.
The existence of inner peace.
His heart seemed to hum in his chest, grateful and humble for the experience of watching both of his brothers - a family he wasn't born into but had chosen - radiating the warmth of a love they deserved and finally had found in Feyre and Nesta.
A state of peace, a happiness amplified by that small bundle of tiny fingers, big eyes and soft Illyrian wings sleeping calmly under their watchful eyes.
"Precious," Azriel breathed, the brush in Rhys' hands long forgotten.
He couldn't tell if they stood there for seconds, minutes or hours but when they finally stepped back from the crib, simultaneously without a word shared, they turned and left the room with content smiles on their faces. Rhys winnowed them into the Illyrian Mountains, a little off where they normally appeared. It took them a while to walk through the forest until they reached the border of the shields warding the cabin.
When they entered the cabin, Cassian fetched another bottle of whisky while Rhys stared at the brush in his hand.
The moment the first soft gleam of sunlight reached over the horizon, announcing a new day to start, Azriel let himself fall against the table with an empty bottle of whisky in hand, watching his brothers exchanging sloppy yet satisfied smiles.
There were not one, but two pairs of eyes added on the wall.
One pair of violet eyes.
And a smaller one, their blue color the perfect mix of violet, blue and grey.
Family.