Chapter Text
“She wore the Mask. She’d placed the Crown atop her head. And she cradled the Harp in her arms.
No one had ever wielded all three and lived. No one could contain their power, control them—”
Chapter 76 - A Court of Silver Flames
Sarah J. Maas
Cassian watched in horror as Nesta took one final look at Feyre and nodded. She plucked that last string and collapsed to the floor. He let go of Rhys and dove for Nesta. The Mask and Crown had slipped off but the Harp was still in her hand as he hauled her into his arms. Her stolen clothes ragged, her hands still bloody from Ramiel. She was still, un-breathing. He shook her shoulders.
“Nesta, wake up!” He shook her again, a pain shot through his chest, so intense it felt like his very soul was being ripped in two, “No. No no no, Nes – Please,” he pleaded.
But it was too late, in a last ditch effort to save her sister, Nesta had unintentionally ended her own life trying to wield all three dread trove items. Cassian’s world stopped, perhaps the Harp had slowed time – just enough to prolong his misery. Knelt on the floor, Nesta in his arms, he felt the mating bond snap. The pain he’d felt had been the consequence of her leaving this world, dragging the part of his soul that belonged to her to the next life. He was screaming but no sound reached his ears. He couldn’t hear anything, see anything but his dead mate in his arms. Dead. She’d selflessly, foolishly tried to save Rhys and Feyre.
Rhys…
He swallowed and looked back to where Azriel too had released their brother. Rhys knelt next to Feyre as she drew one last rattling breath looking to where her sister had stood, her face peaceful with her mate by her side. Rhys held her hand and spared one last look to Azriel, then to Cassian and beyond him, to where Mor held the still silent babe.
“I’m so sorry,” Rhys said as released his final breath and collapsed where he knelt, hands still clutching Feyre’s.
The room fell into silence, Cassian couldn’t breathe, what were they supposed to do? His mate was dead, but so was his brother, and his High Lady. Gods, what were they going to do? But then something so sharp, so jarring broke the silence - a baby’s cry .
Everyone’s attention snapped to where Mor stood, eyes full of tears, clutching the too small bundle.
“Morrigan, give him to me. Now!” Madja shouted. Mor obeyed, rushing to Madja and gently passing the crying child to the healer.
He was so small. How could something so tiny possibly survive such a traumatic experience? Madja had said not minutes ago that he wouldn’t survive.
“Mother above,” Madja whispered, her healing magic assessing the babe.
“What’s wrong?” Azriel asked, stepping closer.
“Nothing,” Madja said to the group, “There’s nothing wrong with him, he’s completely healthy.”
“How is that possible?” Mor asked.
“Nesta…” Amren spoke up, “She didn’t pluck that harpstring to save Feyre, she sacrificed herself to save the babe.”
They all looked to where Cassian knelt, Nesta’s body still in his arms and watched him in stunned silence. He held Nesta tighter, he couldn’t let go. Someone on the other side of him put a hand on his shoulder, Elain. Oh gods, he’d forgotten Elain was here, he hadn’t heard her say a word since they’d arrived from Ramiel. They were her sisters, and she was trying to comfort him. He had to leave or he would surely be sick.
Without a word, he stood up with Nesta still cradled in his arms. He made his way to the enormous bed where Feyre lay and he placed Nesta beside her. Azriel did the same with Rhys on Feyre’s other side. Cassian placed a kiss on Nesta's forehead brushing her chilled cheek with his thumb and turned to leave the room. He had to leave the room, leave the house, leave the city.
Once he was out of the house, he broke into a run. He stretched out his wings to launch into the sky before he stumbled and fell hard. He stood up and tried to take flight again only to fall once more. Chest heaving, he screamed at the Sidra. Screamed for his brother, for his High Lady, as they would never know their child. Screamed for their unnamed son crying in the river house, he would grow up an orphan. Screamed for the loss of his own mate, for the sacrifice she made to give her sister peace in death to know that her son would live.
His throat raw, and his eyes blurry, he stared at the river for what felt like an eternity. He did not hear the footsteps approaching behind him. Nor did he notice the calming presence of familiar shadows, wrapping around his shoulders. Someone was standing in front of him, but before he could look up, they dropped to their knees before him and embraced him, their own sobs breaking through Cassian’s fog.
~
Azriel couldn’t remember the last time he had wept so openly. Not when Hybern had been defeated and Rhys had sacrificed himself to heal the cauldron, nor when Cassian had nearly died that day as well. Not once when Rhys was trapped under the mountain for 50 years to ensure their safety. He couldn’t show that weakness, others needed him to be strong. No, he hadn’t wept like this since he was a child, hadn’t felt like this since then. Scared and alone, with only shadows for company.
But he wasn’t alone, and his misery was only a fraction of Cassian’s. Losing a brother was bad enough, he couldn’t imagine losing a mate as well. Maybe that was a small blessing to having not found a mate, he’d be able to avoid this level of heartache. Cassian shuddered and gasped as he continued to weep in his arms. Mother above, what were they going to do?
As though Cassian heard his thoughts, he pulled away a fraction and stuttered “Az… What do we do? What are we going to do?”
“First we’re going to mourn our family, and then we’ll think about what we have to do.” was all Azriel could manage.
“But what about their son?” Cassian hiccuped.
“We’ll figure that out too. Madja is still tending to him, making sure everything is okay. But Cass…” Azriel waited for Cassian’s hazel eyes to meet his own, “It’s him, the power transferred to him.”
“That’s not possible, he’s too young”
“My shadows can sense it, it lives in him. It must have shifted as soon as Rhys-” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
Cassian choked out another sob, and Azriel couldn’t hold in his own. They held each other tighter, both now mourning the innocence of their nephew. He would never have a normal upbringing, now not only an orphan, but one with unimaginable power and inevitable responsibility. He would have to grow up too quickly, knowing that he would rule the Court at a younger age than even his own father had.
“It’s not fair!” Cassian bellowed, “How could he do this?” His voice turned lethal “the foolish bastard, how could he leave his son to rule his Court so young, to bear the weight of the world before he has a chance to live. Gods be damned if he weren’t already dead, I’d kill him myself for this selfishness.”
“Cass…” Azriel tried to sooth him.
“No! No, what he did was selfish. Both of them, how could they? How could they just leave him alone?”
“He won’t be alone, he’ll-” Azriel started
“How could they just leave us like this? All of their self-sacrificing now left us with what? A Court without a High Lord or Lady, their orphaned child to raise. We finally won, we were supposed to finally get to live our lives, after the War, Amarantha, Hybern, the Mortal Queens, the Rite… We had so much planned, it wasn’t supposed to be this way…” Cassian’s tears fell again and Azriel knew he wasn’t just angry with Rhys and Feyre.
Cassian would never get to live the life he deserved with his mate, and Azriel mourned that loss for him as he held his trembling brother. Somehow they’d get through this, he’d hold it together for all of them if he had to.
~
Cassian had managed to compose himself enough to attempt to stand. Azriel was right there, helping him up and keeping him steady as he swayed on his feet. Wrapping an arm around Azriel’s waist, they turned to the house to find Mor staring at them a few meters away. Her eyes were puffy and her face tight. Cassian motioned for her with his free arm and she flung herself into both of them, wrapping them up in her arms as she choked on her own cries. Azriel and Cassian held her close and they stood there for a few minutes in silence as Mor held onto them and fell apart.
Mor managed to stifle herself enough to say “We should probably get back inside, there’s a lot we all need to talk about.”
“I need to take care of Nesta first.” Cassian murmured to no one in particular.
“Madja put a stasis spell on them all and Nuala and Cerridwyn have cleaned the room. It’s all taken care of until we decide how to proceed” Mor answered.
Cassian nodded. They walked in silence to the house and into Rhys’ study where Amren stood next to the desk. But Cassian’s attention was caught by the two females sitting on the couch by the window. Gwyn and Emerie sat holding hands, eyes red and faces splotchy from tears. A full tea service sat untouched on the table in front of the couch and chairs. One look from Amren said she had already told the Valkyrie what had become of their sister in arms. Then Azriel asked “Where is Elain?”
“She’s in the kitchen. Nuala and Cerridwyn are keeping an eye on her. She said whatever we decide is alright with her, she just wanted some time to herself.” Mor supplied.
“And the baby?” Cassian questioned.
“With Madja in the nursery. She said she would stay until we had everything sorted.” Mor answered again then looked toward the Valkyries, “Gwyn, Emerie, could you please wait in the parlor until we are finished? I know the stone brought you here but there are some things we need to discuss before we speak with you.”
“Of course,” Gwyn sniffed. And Emerie nodded. They stood and quietly left the study. Mor led the two Illyrians to the sofa opposite where Gwyn and Emerie had sat. After the three of them were seated, Amren picked up a small folder from the desk then sat in the chair next to Mor.
“Drink,” Amren ordered as she poured herself a cup of tea passing the teapot to Mor.
Once everyone's hands were holding cups of tea, Amren opened the folder.
“As much as I hate to do this now, we need to discuss our next steps before we can do any true mourning. This Court cannot stand a minute without the proper measures in place,” Amren’s eyes cut to them and Cassian swore they had the slightest redness to them, “Rhysand did not leave much in terms of a will, but he did leave explicit instructions should he and Feyre perish and their son live. It seems our High Lord put some forethought into his foolish bargain after all.” Amren cleared her throat and continued, “It states ‘ In the event that the High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court perish and any heirs remain, until a time that the transfer of power has occurred or the heir comes of age to rule the Court - The Second in Command shall become interim High Lady, and the Third in Command shall become her Second. They may then decide on who to appoint as Third in Command until the time that our successor is sworn in as High Lord or Lady and chooses their own Inner Circle.’ ”
That left Amren as interim High Lady until the child was at least 18, but if Rhys meant “comes of age” as a true coming of age as he had… Two decades of Illyrian training and survival of the Blood Rite meant that he would not rule until he was at least 28 - making this child the youngest High Lord to ever succeed the throne.
“I accept the position of interim High Lady only if Morrigan agrees to it, as she has every right to claim the title for herself given her birthright.” Amren looked to Mor, eyes questioning.
“I will only serve as Second, and remain Queen of the Court of Nightmares, my hold there is necessary to keep the balance between Kier and the rest of the Night Court.” Mor answered.
“Very well, I will assume this position without hesitation as I swore my allegiance to Rhysand, I remain loyal to this Court and his family. His son will ascend as High Lord when he is ready and I will concede the title to him at that time.” Amren announced. The paper in her hands glowed brightly and twin tattoos snaked their way up her arms. A bargain, bonding her to her word and sealing her fate should she break it. “Oh really, Rhysand,” Amren huffed, “Always so dramatic with your little bargains.”
This earned a strangled laugh from Mor, her sorrow overpowering any joy in the sound. But the rest of the room remained quiet. Cassian couldn’t find it in himself to laugh at Rhysand’s last jab at Amren by securing her word so permanently. He was still too angry at his brother to find any humor in anything.
“That’s what got us into this mess in the first place.” Cassian muttered. Azriel squeezed his shoulder in solidarity and warning.
“Continuing on,” Amren shot him a glance, “Rhysand and Feyre only left one other set of instructions,” she shuffled the page she had just read to behind the second one and read aloud, “‘ In the event that the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court perish and any heirs remain, said heirs will be granted all properties owned by the family and inner circle members will be allowed claim to these properties as they always have been. Until the heir reaches maturity, they will be cared for and raised by my brother Cassian and Feyre’s sister, Nesta Archeron-”
Everyone in the room froze. The roaring in Cassian’s head returned, drowning out everything as he began to draw gasping breaths. He couldn’t get enough air into his lungs, he was going to pass out. The panic in his breaths must have been apparent because Azriel gripped the back of his neck and shoved his head between his knees, bending down and speaking directly into his ear.
“Deep breaths Cass,” Azriel encouraged rubbing just below the nape of his neck. “Just breathe. It’s going to be okay.”
That snapped him out of his impending panic attack. But only enough to piss him off.
“How is it going to be okay, Az?!” Cassian shot upright, “How are we supposed to care for that child when my mate is dead?! Nesta is dead and I can’t raise him alone, I can’t-”
“You won’t be alone, Cassian” Mor said, and looked to Amren “I’ll step in on Nesta’s behalf.”
“I don’t think that is the best course of action, Morrigan,” Amren countered. This brought Cassian’s attention back to the tiny female. “Since you are now Second in Command, your duties will be double what they were as Third and your duties in the Court of Nightmares will take up the remainder of your time. Would you be able to provide the care this child needed? To live in Illyria as he completes his training?”
Amren had a point, once the child was 8 years old, Cassian would have to take up a permanent residence in Illyria again while he completes warrior training. As much as Rhys loathed the Illyrians backwards traditions, he would want his only son to know his heritage. Cassian would not allow him to not know that part of himself that he shared with his father. No, he would go to Illyria when the boy was to train and he would remain until he reached Ramiel. With everything in him, he’d make sure Rhys’ son knew where he came from. Another voice broke Cassian from his thoughts.
“I’ll do it.” Azriel said, his voice calm. “I have a well established network of spies and without the threat of war, I will be able to dedicate time to raising the child. Rhys would want his son to have dedicated parents who are able to teach him everything he needs to know to become an honorable male. Is there a better option than the two males who knew his father best?”
“Az, you don’t have to-” Cassian started to explain, voice cracking before Azriel cut him off.
“No, I do. I will not sit back and watch you struggle to raise this child by yourself. I will be your partner in this, he will not know loneliness like we did. This child will be ours and Rhys’ memory will live on in him.” Azriel looked into his eyes.
“I, I don’t know what to say. Az, you’re sure?” Cassian stuttered and Azriel nodded. Maybe this would be okay after all, “When can we see him?” Cassian asked.
“As soon as we are finished reading these requests, we must schedule the funeral and declaration of succession for the coming days. Then once that is complete you may see to the babe’s needs.” Amren answered before continuing reading the request in hand, “The next bit of information Rhysand and Feyre left are directly related to the child’s upbringing, ‘ If the heir is orphaned before he is named, the child shall bear the given name “Nyx'' at the request of his mother and father. He will be raised in Velaris until he is ready to begin Illyrian Warrior training where he will live in Windhaven and train with the bands there. The family’s home in Windhaven will belong to Nyx and his caregivers will stay there with him through the completion of his training. It is expected that Nyx will be given proper tutoring when not training as well as additional education from the interim High Lady about ruling the Court. The interim High Lady will consult with other High Lords and Ladies on proper lessons for the future High Lord. All other teachings and lessons are up to the caregiver’s discretion as we have faith that they will do right by us in bringing up our child to rule his Court with honor.’ Amren finished, her eyes brimmed with tears she would not allow to escape. She pulled several sealed envelopes from the folder, “He also left letters to each of us individually and Feyre left letters to her sisters. Cassian, I will give you Nesta’s letter and let you decide what to do.”
Cassian nodded. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Rhys had trusted him to raise his son. He was so out of his depth, how would he ever know if he was doing right by Rhys. They’d been brothers for over 500 years, was that enough to consider himself worthy of raising Rhys’ child on his behalf. But he would have to try, for Rhys he and Azriel would try their gods damned hardest.
~
Nyx’s guardian. Azriel had just volunteered to watch over Rhys and Feyre’s son with Cassian. He didn’t have the slightest idea how to raise a child, nor did Cassian. What was he thinking? His brother’s only son to be brought up by a couple of Illyrian brutes. Though he supposed Rhys and Feyre had made the plan with Nesta in mind to be the one to take up the co-guardian position to counter Cassian’s brand of parenting. Her steadfast no nonsense nature would have been exactly what a growing Illyrian boy would need.
He was prepared to take up that mantle, as Rhys’ mother had done for him, to be a steady guide in a scary world while Cassian taught him the more lighthearted aspects of life. He’d have to talk it over with Cassian, there was still plenty of time to decide. The foreseeable future was merely caring for the boy’s basic needs, lessons and guidance would come later. They had time to get it right. For Rhys.
“Now,” Amren spoke again, “We need to decide on the plan for their funerals, as well as the statements we are releasing to the Court regarding the deaths of their High Lord and Lady. They will be entombed in the family crypt beneath the House of Wind-”
“No,” Azriel shook his head as his shadows tightened around him. Amren looked at him questioningly, he continued, voice a low growl, “I will not put Rhys under that mountain, nor will I allow you to bury Feyre there either. Rhys’ spent nearly all of the last 5 decades of his life a prisoner underground, we cannot bury them beneath the House. I won’t.”
Cassian and Mor nodded their agreement and Amren asked “Then what do you propose we do instead, Shadowsinger?”
“We burn their bodies, a warrior's funeral. Then release their ashes to the wind. Together. Set them free.” Azriel answered.
“Nesta too. I’ll make sure Elain is okay with it but I think she’ll agree that Nesta would want to be free as well.” Cassian offered. Azriel noticed Cassian's eyes shone with unshed tears, he was already thinking of where to release her ashes.
“Very well. We will have to allow for a public viewing before the pyres are lit but the ceremony will be limited to close friends and family. Memorials for all three will be created in the crypt beneath the House of Wind if for nothing more than posterity.” Amren drew a breath, “Then, it is settled. I’ll make the announcement to the Court tonight, and allow 3 days of mourning before we have the ceremony. That will give those who wish to attend the viewing time to receive word and travel to the city. Call in your Valkyries.”
Azriel stood slowly and offered a hand to Cassian. He took it without looking up, rose to his feet and turned toward the door. Azriel followed.
The two Valkyries were at the edge of the parlor, speaking quietly to one another when Azriel and Cassian approached them. Before Azriel could speak, both females launched at the two males embracing them as they’re words turned to sobs.
“We thought Nesta sacrificed herself to save us on Ramiel, we thought she died on that Mountain but Amren told us that she died trying to save her sister’s child.” Gwyn cried.
“She survived Ramiel, she defeated Bellius and the Mortal Queen, and saved -” Cassian choked on his words, “and saved me. The Mortal Queen had used the Crown to control me and made me try to kill Nesta but she destroyed her and saved me…”
Emerie and Gwyn looked to Azriel, as if he would confirm Cassian’s confession. “It’s true.” he said, “After Nesta saved Cassian, Mor and I found them atop Ramiel and brought them back here, Feyre had gone into labor and was deteriorating fast. But Nesta, she summoned the Dread Trove to save her sister, or so we thought.”
The two females' mouths parted in confusion but it was Cassian that spoke next.
“Feyre had already made the choice to cut the babe free, sealing her fate in a desperate hope to save her son, but he was born near still. So Nesta summoned the Trove and before I could stop her, she plucked the final harp string. Trading her own life for Feyre’s son’s. The High Lord’s heir lives because my mate” Cassian coughed, “sacrificed herself so he could live.”
Azriel stood and watched as the warriors mourned their fallen sister in arms and consoled her mate. He waited a few moments before clearing his throat, “Would you join us in the study? We’d like to hear your accounts of the Rite and discuss a plan going forward.”
“Plan?” Emerie asked.
“For your legion of Valkyrie.” Azriel tried to put some excitement in his tone but a half hearted grin could manage given the circumstances. But Emerie’s mouth dropped open nonetheless.
“Our own legion?” Gwyn breathed
Cassian gestured toward the door and placed a hand between Gwyns shoulders, ushering her towards the study, “As General and Commander of the Night Courts Armies, I have the power to create as many legions as I please, and appoint their commanders. And I just had two Valkyrie Carynthians dropped right in front of me.” He smiled but Azriel could see the pain behind it, the silent wish that he was also offering this to his mate.
Azriel followed them back into the study and shut the doors.
~
The meeting concluded and Mor convinced Gwyn and Emerie to stay with her in the House of Wind until the funerals were over and a more permanent residence could be established here in Velaris. Both Cassian and Azriel agreed that it was unwise to allow Emerie to return to Windhaven due to the upheaval it was sure to be in about two females winning their sacred Rite. He’d have to deal with that later, him and Amren. Amren had left to tend to her new duties, starting with informing the Court and our allies about Rhys and Feyre’s death. She had already sent word to Varian, he would be arriving soon.
Cassian sat on the sofa in the study, elbows on his knees, hands steepled in front of his bowed head. Azriel sat in the chair adjacent to him. He let out a deep breath and looked up, Azriel’s hazel eyes trained on him. Cassian’s stomach was in knots but he needed to just get this over with. There was a child upstairs that needed him. His child. He had to hold back the bile that rushed up his throat.
It’s not that Cassian didn’t want a child, just that having children was not something that Cassian knew he wanted until recently. Until Nesta. He knew he wanted to have children with her. But he wouldn’t dwell on that, the child waiting on him upstairs would be just as much his as any biological child would have been. While this child was not his by blood, he’d learned long ago that family isn’t always bound by blood. He, Rhys, and Azriel had made their own family and built it up over the centuries. There was an unbreakable bond between them all that only death seemed to cleave. But that bond could never be broken, Cassian knew he’d find them all again in the next life just like he had in this one.
Azriel stood slowly and walked toward him, then offered a hand, “Let’s go meet our nephew.”
He clasped Azriel’s forearm and Az hauled him to his feet. Their nephew that they would raise as their own son.