Feyre returned to their room late in the evening, after she and Mor had gone to pick up some clothes for Perce. She seemed to favour the strange clothes she'd worn when she'd arrived, so Mor and Elain were modifying some things.
Rhys was lounging casually in bed, smirking at the ceiling.
"What did you do?" Feyre asked teasingly, folding her arms.
"Oh, nothing. Az hasn't left Persephone all day. I think they're more in love than us."
"Wow, that... puts it into perspective," Feyre blinked. "Gotten over your arse-kicking yet? Or are you still sulking?"
"We're going to do round two tomorrow," he grinned. "I won't go so easy on him. Maybe then Perce can lick his wounds."
Feyre hit his arm hard. He just grinned. "Did you at least let them eat?" She asked.
"What kind of High Lord would I be if I let my dear brother starve?" He asked with mock incredulousness.
"Hmm, let me see… Who would you be- My mate," Feyre replied teasingly and simply.
He laughed, then huffed. "Fine. I'll see if they want to come down to dinner."

When Rhysand slipped into the room, Azriel's instincts growled, but they were less severe.
Perce muttered something in a language Azriel didn't recognise, but he got the gist of it through his shadows.
"¿Por qué tenemos que despertarnos tan temprano?" Why do we have to wake up so early?
 "What do you want?" He hissed at his brother.
"And here I was thinking you loved me, Az," Rhys smirked with faked hurt, a hand on his chest.
"I was simply going to ask if the two of you wanted dinner."
"Fine," Az snapped. "But a word from you or Cassian and I'll wring your necks."
His brother shrugged, leaving, and Perce stirred.
"Hey," Azriel breathed, instantly his voice softening and body relaxing. "How…"
"Okay," she groaned. "I'm okay."
"Okay is good?" He asked.
She nodded. "Are you hungry?" Another nod.
He helped her up, spying the bags by the door, a note fixed to one of them. For Perce. They're hers. -Mor.
He pulled out a shirt, pants and some underthings, and she watched, eyes clearer than they had been but still foggy. "These are for you," he said, handing her the clothes.
She carefully got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to change. "Ah, mierda," she muttered after a minute. "How does this keep happening?"
"What is it?" He asked, standing just outside the door. "I'm falling apart," she sighed. "Lost a fingertip. It's almost funny, but I kinda need it."
He found the bone just under the bed, and tried to stifle a laugh as he slipped it under the bathroom door.
"Thanks," she laughed. "Dad said it happens. I guess it does when you don't have skin or muscle on half of you." She walked out in the new clothes, her hoodie off and her neck and arms visible. There was a chunk of flesh and muscle missing, revealing her spine and a little bit of her skull. The flesh was gone all along her shoulder, too, connecting her neck to her arm.
"It's a half-Death thing," she grinned. "Go ahead."
She tilted her head back and to the side so he could touch the bones, and he gently tapped her spine.
She giggled. "It tickles. It kind of feels like when someone touches your wings."
He nodded, running a finger along her shoulder. Perhaps on purpose, he'd try to be a bit more teasing than he needed to be, like he had with her wings. "I've seen more bones in my life than almost anyone, except perhaps Amren, but these… I think I like these ones."
She blushed. "Thanks. High maintenance, though."
He suddenly found himself wanting to be the one who handled that high-maintenance care.
There was a whoosh of wind, and Perce's face lit up as she rushed to a hooded, tall figure cloaked in black, holding a bone-scythe with a long-fingered bone-hand, hugging Perce with the other. So this was Death.
"Dad!" Perce laughed, arms around her father. "I missed you!"
"I missed you too, Tarantula," Death spoke, letting his scythe rest against the wall so he could hug his daughter, picking her up easily.
Her arms around his neck, his hood fell, revealing a skeleton, only a small patch of tan skin on his face, around his grey eye.
He let Persephone down, and she pulled his hand, leading him to Azriel. "Dad, this is Az. Azriel, this is my dad."
The man looked at him, a peculiar look on his face, before it faded and he smiled.
Azriel placed a hand on his heart, bowing his head. "An honour, sir."
Death laughed. "Call me Death, son."
Azriel nodded.
"So, what are you doing here?" Perce laughed, as Death reached into his cloak.
"I came to give you this, my love," he said simply, pulling out a wrapped box from his cloak. "It's Día de Muertos. Happy birthday."
Perce hugged him again, before carefully taking the box.
Death motioned to it. "Open it, my scorpion. It's from your mother. She said not to open it until your nineteenth birthday."
Perce's eyes filled with tears, and she slit open the wrapping. "Oh, Mama," she breathed, lifting the necklace.
It was a fine silver chain, designed to sit around the neck several times, with skull, rose and moon pendants, along with a replica of Death's scythe and a crow. Beneath the necklace was a novel, written by Chrystelle Chamberland.
"Thank you," she whispered, and looked up at Azriel. "Chrystelle is my mother's name. I guess now we know what day my birthday is here."
Death smiled. "Come on, introduce me to your friends."
She grinned, leading him to the others, while Azriel watched, smiling.
As much as he wanted to tear the other males apart, he kept himself contained, seeing how happy she was to have her father with them.
Death was a nice man, making jokes and helping with dinner, sitting beside Perce while Azriel took her other side.
"Oh, and in the Otherworld, there's this huge ocean, like blue fabric, with so many stars it lights up the whole world," she told everyone, and Death smiled at her, her never-ending energy contagious.
Azriel found himself making jokes too, telling the pair of his stories, of war and of the time during Amarantha's reign.
"Wow," Perce breathed, her head propped on her bone fist, eyes wide as she clung on Az's every word. "It sounds… Wow."
"I remember those souls," Death said, eye glazed with memories. "Some vicious, many others kind and noble. They are at peace."
The Fae relaxed at that, thankful for the reassurances their warriors were happy.
"Everyone always says stuff like that, but you can never know," Amren mused. "Good thing Death is here, then."
"Never thought I'd hear those words without sarcasm," Death laughed. "Thank you, Amren."
The tiny Fae smiled.
After dinner, Death stood, collecting his scythe. "I must go. It was a pleasure to meet you all. I shall see you another time." He vanished; orange petals left where he'd stood.
Perce collected them. "Show-off!" She called after him. "Always leaves a mess," she sighed, but opened a box from her bag, half-filled with more of the bright, soft petals, scooping the new ones inside. "I like collecting them. We decorate the house with them on Día de Muertos, and the ofrendas." She smiled sadly. Her accent always cut through her words, especially with the foreign ones, like the way she rolled her 'r's. "I wish you could see it, Az. It's beautiful, and Dad and I always make calaveras, or sugar skulls."
Azriel hugged her, arms and wings around her, and she rested her head on his chest, arms around his waist. "I'm sure it's wonderful," he whispered.
"Thank you, Azriel," she breathed back.
"What for?"
"Everything."

Rhysand was pleasantly surprised at the changes in Azriel. He was more open, joking and talking much more, and though he growled whenever a male was near Perce, he didn't move, and Rhys and Cass made sure to help take the edge off without them realising.
A few days after the dinner with Death, they all sat in the House of Wind, Perce playing with Azriel's hair, his arm over her shoulders.
Rhys swirled the wine around in his cup. "Feeling better, brother?" he asked, raising a brow.
Az nodded, looking at Perce. "Much. I don't know what happened, but whatever it is, it's quieter."
After braiding a few stands of his midnight hair, Perce yawned, closing her eyes to sleep, tucked into Azriel's side, his wing over her, protecting her. "I was thinking," the shadowsinger started.
"We warned you about that," Rhys grinned.
Az laughed, shaking his head. "I deserved that. But I was wondering if I might take her"-
"Of course," Rhys shrugged, waving a hand at him.
"I never said where we were going."
"The cabin in the mountains, I know. That seems to run in the family, that tradition. Go."
Az smiled, though seemed slightly confused at the words. "We'll be back in a week. I'm going to tell her we're going tomorrow."
He gently picked up the sleeping princess in his arms, flying out of the House.
Rhys had a feeling they'd find out what they were very soon. But for now, he thought, he'd like to see them oblivious.

The next morning, Azriel told Perce his plan.
She was excited to see the cabin, and he was excited because they'd get to be alone for a week.
It was selfish, yes, but he thought if it made her happy, he was allowed to be a little selfish occasionally.
They packed some things, Perce hiding something in her bag she wouldn't let him see, before they walked outside and winnowed to where the cabin sat, Perce so in awe Azriel laughed.
He loved how the smallest things delighted and stunned her, he loved how wild and fun she was, her endless energy and enthusiasm. Her beauty, kindness and excitement for everything. He'd forgotten to ask Rhys about what these feelings meant, but it could wait.
"This place is beautiful," she breathed, running bone fingers over the paintings Feyre had made the first time she was here.
"We come here sometimes, but when Feyre and Rhys were first mated, it was hectic. I'm sure you know that already," he smiled.
"Yeah. But I like hearing you talk about it. I like hearing you talk, in general, actually."
His heart leapt, shadows whispering with glee. They faded, leaving just Azriel, watching Perce as she explored the cabin.
She must know everything that's happened here, he thought, wondering if it might make her hesitant to stay, but it didn't seem that way, at least. He snapped out of his thoughts, realizing she'd paused, looking at the pairs of eyes painted by the bedroom hallway.
"Yours are so pretty," she murmured, brushing a hand over his painted eyes. "She painted these when they were first mated, right?"
Something clicked in Azriel's brain. It all made sense now- His feelings, the instincts, Cassian and Rhys baiting him and him almost beating them senseless. Mate. The word settled itself in his soul, entirely welcome and warming him from the inside. He found himself staring at her, studying her in silence and pure stillness, somehow seeing her slightly differently, and yet completely the same at once.
Perce tensed. "Wait- Az- Are you okay?" She rushed to him, hands either side of his face. "Azzie?"
He kissed her, pulling her to him, and after a minute of shock, she kissed him back, hands in his hair, their wings around each other, his hands on her waist. When they pulled back, he flashed a nervous smile. "I realised something. Do you- Do you feel something? Like a"-
"Bond," she murmured. "A mating bond." He nodded.
She grinned, her braces and nearly every tooth revealed fully. "Wicked. So… can we do this properly? Like, the whole private ceremony thing?"
"You know how it works?"
She grinned. "Of course. I know it involves food and black ribbon."
Azriel's heart soared higher than he had ever dared to fly. "I'll be back in a minute."
She laughed, pecking his lips before heading to the kitchen, as he bolted to find the ribbon kept in the storeroom.

The bond cemented, ribbon tied around their wrists, binding them together, Azriel thanked every god, the Mother, the Cauldron, and whoever else would listen, especially Death. Perce sat in his lap, their hands on his chest, as she kissed him. "If you're going to kill anyone in the frenzy," she said between kisses. "Please let it be Cassian."
He laughed darkly. "Alright, mate. So… how should we start?" She shrugged, pressing her brow to his. "Surprise me."

Morning light spilled into the room, and Az groaned, stirring Perce from her sleep.
The ribbon sat on the floor, Azriel's body half-covered by the furs on the bed, his wings drooping to the floor.
Perce reached for the jar Feyre had given her, and stood, dressing, heading to the kitchen.
Azriel still slept.
When she returned, she'd made a new oil, and gently shook Az awake.
His eyes opened slowly, the beautiful hazel-gold. He smiled. "Hi, Beautiful."
"Hello, you. Here. I made this for your wings."

He lay face-down, shifting so his wings spread on the messy bed, his every muscle aching and burning.
The bed dipped slightly, Perce sitting over his backside with her knees either side of his hips, and started rubbing his shoulders.
The pain immediately leeched out of him, and he stifled a gasp, her cool flesh and freezing bone doing wonders for the aching muscle.
She kissed his spine. "Poor Azzie," she murmured, her breath on his skin making him shudder with pleasure.
Her hands continued, closer to his wings, and he tensed, a part of him doing so just so she would continue for longer.
She laughed, no doubt catching onto his plan. "Do you like that?" She teased, fingers brushing the bases of his wings.
A moan escaped his lips as she rubbed the oil on his wings. "That feels- That feels incredible," he breathed, as she continued down his back.
He could feel her smile through their bond. When she was done, he sighed in frustration, wishing she'd keep going as she stood and sat beside him.
"Better?" She asked, smiling brightly. He nodded. "Good. Illyrians really are sensitive, needy pricks, aren't they?"
He grinned, grabbing her and pulling her to him, her lips finding his. Tilting her head to give his tongue access, he sighed, his hands finding her wings, copying her earlier movements until she made a small noise of pure pleasure.
"And you said Illyrians were the sensitive ones," he teased against her lips.
She nipped his in response.
He felt content to stay there forever, with his wild, perfect mate, he hands tracing his tattoos, the carvings on her bones suddenly giving him an idea. "Is… there a way for you to move those?" He asked. "As… tattoos somewhere else."
She gave him a confused, curious look, then grabbed a book from her bag. "It's Dad's spell book," she explained. "I have my magic, but there are spells, too, until the powers shift to me, like when a High Lord is slain or something and the power transfers. Spells, like moving or removing carvings and stuff. Here- Convertir estos grabados en tinta en mi carne."
They watched as all the carvings save for her tattoo vanished, and she muttered another spell, her tattoo moving to her shoulder. "There. Moved. Why?"
"I was thinking we go to a Priestess when we get home, and steal Rhys's idea of the mating tattoo."
She grinned. "Wicked cool."
He laughed. "Out of anyone in our world, you're my mate. And now I'm stuck with you."
She kissed him again. "You bet you are, Azzie."
"Live with me," he breathed. "We'll get our own house, move in together. What do you think?"
Her eyes met his, silver to gold. "I think… that sounds amazing."

The rest of their trip they spent well- Having snowball fights, curling together on the couch in front of the fire, sharing stories and their favourite things.
Azriel learned a lot about Perce- Her favourite colour was pink, though she loved all colours in general. She loved animals, and had had a pet scorpion when she was young.
On their way home, he thought about the Frenzy, the state in which a male grew so protective of his mate that he could be known to shatter rooms and attack others violently, like Az had to his brothers.
As they were winnowing into Velaris, planning on walking for a bit, a small noise tugged on his thoughts.
"Oh, Az, look at the poor thing," Perce was saying.
He blinked, turning to her.
An Illyrian baby was held in her arms, the little girl quiet as Death's daughter hummed, a bittersweet song that tugged on Azriel's soul.
"She'll die if she stays out here, Az," Perce whispered, nodding to the box the girl must have been left in.
"She could be ours," he suggested, and Perce smiled, emotions tangling.
"You'd be a great dad, Azriel. Come on, little devil."
They walked to the river house, Rhys meeting them at the door, shooting a confused look at the child.
"She was abandoned," Az told his brother, and Rhys's eyes thawed, as he smiled at the girl.
"We could introduce her to Nyx."
"Good idea. We kept him with Elain as a precaution, Perce being Death's daughter and all. But I think they'd be good friends."
"I suppose cousins, in a way. We're going to keep her," Az smiled.
"She needs a name," Rhys winked.
Azriel nodded, taking the girl from Perce and smiling at her. "He's right. Grumpy old Uncle Rhys," he grinned. "What're we going to call you?"
Perse chewed her lip. "What about Melanie?"
Azriel liked that name. "Melanie it is. Come on, you."
They led her to where the others were gathered in the living room, little Nyx, now four years old, blinking when he saw them.
"Aw, hello, Nyx," Perce smiled at the boy, griping his father's pant leg and half-hiding behind him, shy. "I'm Perce."
"Hi," he murmured, then buried his head in his father's leg, as though he could turn invisible. Rhys rested a hand on Nyx's head. "Come on, son, don't be shy. She won't bite."
"This is Melanie," Perce said gently, sitting cross-legged with the girl. "You wanna say hi?"
Nyx looked up slightly, and smiled when he saw Melanie. "Hello."
Melanie laughed in response, and Nyx grinned. "Can I play with her?"
"Be gentle," Feyre warned, and Nyx sat opposite Perce, Melanie reaching a hand in a sort of wave.
Az could see why Rhys was confused. Melanie had dark hair, bright eyes and pale skin, plus the Illyrian wings.
At first glance, she could be Rhys and Feyre's, or even his and Perce's.
She was chatty, burbling and laughing, and she and Nyx became fast friends, before they went to nap.
"I just don't understand why someone would abandon a child," Rhys was saying, clearly feeling a bit of guilt. "The poor girl… Did you find anything else?"
"Just this," Perce said, handing him a note.
"'To whoever finds my dear girl- Take care of her.'" Rhys read.
Feyre rubbed his shoulders as he slumped in his chair. "You can't control everything, my love," Feyre told him. "It isn't your fault."
"And it's okay, we'll take care of her," Perce reassured him. "Don't worry, Rhysand."
Feyre offered to take her into the city, and as they left, Rhys studied his brother. "You're oddly calm."
"Rhys- We're mates," Azriel grinned proudly, almost disregarding the comment. "We found out just after we left."
Rhys grinned. "Yeah, we know. The bond must have clicked the night she came here. There must have been a subconscious sort of acceptance, which is why you were so protective. The Frenzy must be over."
Azriel felt relieved. "Thank the Mother."
"Are you going to have it officialized?" Rhys asked.
Az took a seat opposite his brother, sitting sideways with his legs over the arm of the chair." Planning to. What do I get her as a mating present? She's perfect, and she's so surprised by everything. She hardly accepts gifts as it is. She doesn't think she deserves them."
Rhysand gave his brother a thoughtful look. "Well, there's your answer. We have a birthday party for her, let her see she's loved and deserves everything." Azriel nodded, the idea growing on him. "That's perfect. I have a plan."

After Perce had gone to bed, still unused to the different time zone in Prythian, Rhysand called a family meeting.
He let Azriel take charge, the shadowsinger surprising them with a caring and thoughtful side they'd never seen, awakened by Perce's love. "Mor, I need you to distract Perce tomorrow so we can set up. Rhys will give a signal to come back when we're ready. The goal isn't just a birthday party- It's a wake-up, to show Percy how much we love her after her life of fear and persecution."
Feyre and Rhys were in charge of decorating, Amren and Elain on food, Nesta, Cassian and Azriel finding a way to speak with Death, to see what the perfect gifts would be.
Rhysand grinned at his mate as the group split up the next morning, Mor telling Perce about the fun shopping day she had planned. "I think she just needed an excuse," Rhys winked at Feyre.
"Who, Mor?" She asked, helping Nyx dress and pulling out an outfit for herself and her mate.
"Mmm-Hmm," Rhysand nodded, buttoning up his shirt.
"Well, you know Mor," Feyre smiled.
They made their way to the living room, Nyx helping make decorations, Melanie laughing and clapping when he made her a paper-skull necklace.
"Look at them," Rhys smiled.
His mate kissed his cheek, a hand on his shoulder. "I know. Come on, Nyx, we need you to hang these up. We can't reach!"
Nyx laughed, scrambling to his feet.
Azriel, Cassian and Nesta came back at around noon, telling them what Día de Muertos decorations looked like and adding some decorations Death had given them. They wanted Perce's party to be as perfect as possible, even scattering the orange marigold petals she loved, Amren and Elain making calaveras.
By the time they were ready, it was early afternoon, and the place looked wonderful. Rhys sent a spear of magic to find and alert Mor, everyone in fine clothes. Mor had convinced Perce to wear one of the new dresses she'd bought, and Azriel held a marigold crown in his hands, with two sets of paper leaves, the same species, but one was darker. He'd made it himself, and it looked wonderful. Perfect for his Princess.

Mor and Perce walked through the door, the latter's hands flying to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock.
"SURPRISE!" Everyone yelled. Almost everyone.
Azriel stepped forward, placing the crown on Perce's head, where it sat perfectly with her dress, white lace bodice separated from the green skirts by a black, fabric scarf-like thing tied around her waist.
Her face painted, Azriel realised she looked like the Goddess of Death herself. Death had shown them, and Perce looked just as beautiful, maybe even more so. "Azzie," she breathed, looking around. "Did you do this?"
"It was my idea to throw a party for you, but Azriel made everything happen. All you see came from him. We just carried out his bidding," Rhys winked.
Azriel kissed his mate, hands on her waist, her arms around his neck.
"It's wonderful," she breathed. "You didn't have to do all this."
"Of course we did," Azriel smiled, his lips stained with a bit of paint. "We're your family. We didn't get to throw you a birthday party, so here we are."
"No, you really didn't need to"-
"Just go with it," Feyre winked, smiling.
They'd all used a bit of paint for the occasion, wearing traditional clothing Perce preferred.
"It's… just like the Día de Muertos back home," Perce laughed, half nostalgic, half almost crying with happiness and love. "You guys."
"Wait until you see what Azriel got you," Mor grinned. "Come on."
Arms linked, Azriel led Perce to a special ofrenda, with a photo from Death, of a younger Persephone, smiling shyly and showing her braces, one hand in the middle of tucking hair behind her ear.
Their presents were stacked carefully, set amongst the food Elain and Amren had helped make and candles they'd bought.
Azriel handed his mate the present he'd gotten her. "Open it, sweetheart." His heart warmed just saying the word.
She carefully opened the box, and when she saw what was inside, she flung her arms around his neck, pressing her body into him before pulling her head back to look at him.
"I love it," was all she said.
It was all Az needed. He'd gotten her a ring. A lovely, twisted silver band of two lengths of metal spun together, engraved with their initials. A and P, standing either side of a square topaz. He held up his hand, revealing the twin ring encircling his own finger, without the gem. "Be my wife," he whispered.
"I will," she breathed back, and he slipped the ring on her finger.
"We're still here," Amren chuckled, and, her hands on Az's chest, Perce glanced down, giving an embarrassed, apologetic smile.
Mor got her a lovely top and skirt, which fitted Perce's style perfectly.
Rhys and Feyre gifted Perce her own position in the Night Court, her title being Angel of Death, responsible for helping souls cross over just from Prythian. She'd be regarded as a goddess, Rhys told her.
"Me, Prythian's Goddess of Death? No, I- I don't deser"-
"Don't even finish that sentence," Azriel said, looking into her eyes, the male overcome by frustration. "You deserve everything, Percy, you just don't see it. You're too kind-hearted and stubborn to see you deserve the worlds."
"Oh, Az…" She breathed, blinking up at him. "You... mean that?"
"Every word," he promised. "Now come on."
Cassian gave her a dagger, and Elain and Nesta gave her new books Azriel knew she hadn't read.
Amren promised to teach her new spells, and about the history of her old world, which was somewhat surprising to the group, her act of kindness. Of course, Rhys joked, unless she planned on scarring the girl for life.
As they sat and ate dinner, Azriel told everyone of their plans to buy a house and get officially mated.
Cassian clapped his brother's shoulder, and Rhys raised his cup in a toast.
After they finished eating, Azriel found Perce by the ofrenda, arms wrapped around her torso and wings tucked tight. He stood beside her, one wing spreading to envelope her in its warmth, as she rested her head against his shoulder.
"You don't know how much this means to me," she smiled sadly. "And do I want to ask how you did this?" She gestured to the ofrenda.
"I got help. But trust me, I know better than anyone how much this means to you, because I can feel it."
She nodded, eyes drooping, lids painted black, so when they closed, she'd look like a full skeleton. "You're the most amazing male I've ever known," she murmured. "And I've met more souls than I can count."
His arm slid around her waist. "Out of all my years… I've never met anyone like you."

Author's Note- Thanks to TrovanaLP for the sort of salve idea I kinda based a part of this off, be sure to check out Wings of Shadow, I definitely recommend it! I just really loved that intimate sort of feel from the scene, I hope you don't mind my using that idea! And please, dear readers, feel free to leave any comments for ideas or notes to help me improve, I'd really appreciate it! ... I also kinda need a conflict, so I'd love to hear some drama for Azriel and Persephone to be thrown into ;) You're the reason I write, after all, my friends, I'd be nothing without my readers, just writing and deleting things no-one will read, and then what? Hope you have a great week!