Chapter 87
"ENOUGH!" Azriel's snarl smothered any other sound in the town house. Arwen's chest rose and fell faster than Cassian's own heart was beating. "Get out of her head! Get out!"
"I am," Rhysand said, staring at his sister. Everything about him was rigid, his fingers hanging by his legs. Not a visible hint the panic that Cassian felt. He just stared and stared, his face pale. Horrified. "She..."
None of them found out what he wanted to say, the High Lord's voice drifting off. Cassian didn't have time to wait or prod him. Blood made a dark crimson line out of the corner of Arwen's mouth, mingling with a thick stream of her nose, her head bent low. Cassian aimed for her, ignoring Mor's voice that called for Rhysand to hear her.
Azriel seethed at the sight of him nearing. His wings wrapped around himself and his mate, shielding her as he back away. Arwen's feet dragged against the ground as he pulled her away from Cassian, giving no wince or even blinking as his back rammed into the stone wall. The hazels which were only a few shades different from Cassian's were brimmed with a terror the general had never seen before.
But Azriel's panic was a danger. To them, himself, and to Arwen who hung near limp in his arms. The sounds of her life, the hoarse hyperventilating, were weak but not subsiding out of calmness. "Azriel," Cassian began carefully. "Let me help her."
He could see his words working their way through Azriel's mind. The shadowsinger's eyes dropped to the form in his arms and he sunk down the wall all the way to the floor. Cassian moved forward, Mor finding her way to his side. A quick glance revealed Feyre at Rhysand's. This wasn't what he had anticipated when Azriel and Rhysand approached him about intervening with Arwen's decision. He imagined a calm, gentle conversation. And maybe that is what they intendedâno, it was what they intended. He knew Rhysand hadn't wanted this. But emotions grew too quickly, like a wildfire out of control.
Azriel only unwrapped one wing to reveal Arwen from above her shoulders, the rest of her still hidden under the leathery membrane of his other. Blood spilled from her mouth and nose, its evidence glistening on the chest of his leathers. Her hazy eyes were set on nothing, her lips quivering which each fervent pant. The paleness was striking, as was the hollowness in her cheeks Cassian had only just paid attention to, hot tears streaming down them.
"Get Helion," Cassian said to Morrigan.
She faltered as if she had no idea what he was saying, but then her face went tight and she disappeared, winnowing her way to the Day Court. A glance behind him revealed Rhysand still standing in that spot, staring at them, Feyre's hand against his chest as her gaze flickered wildly between everything. It was Amren who filled the spot next to Cassian, kneeling with a hard look that moved him back into action.
Cassian took Arwen's limp hand in his, pressing it to his chest over his heart. His other hooked under her chin, lifting it until he could see the slits of violet behind her half-lidded eyes. "Arwen," he called, forcing his voice to come smoothly. "Arwen you need to open your eyes."
She did, ever so slightly, but it was a response. Her eyes were hazed and unfocused. He planted his hand on her chest to mimic the one on his, feeling the thundering heartbeat beneath it, the pace wildly and dangerous. "Breathe with me," he said. "In and out. Count the seconds."
He was certain she couldn't even hear him, so he stretched his chest with each long breath he forced himself to take, letting her feel the steady pattern they had practiced so often after her nightmares, hoping it would tug on some sense of familiarity.
Azriel's lips were planted in her hair, wrinkles spearing from his clenched eyes, silent and glimmering tracks streaming down his cheeks.
"...Three, four," Cassian counted. She didn't respond to his attempts. He needed her calm, the sounds of her empty pants grating and a warning that she was only getting worse. Their efforts to save her might just be the reason she died again and that wasn't a guilt he could bare. It certainly wasn't one Rhysand or Azriel could. "Look at me, sweetheart. I need you to do that for me." He just needed to keep her going until Helion arrived.
Her eyes began to phase back into focus, finding his through a mess of tears. The way she looked at himâit was a silent beg for help. Blood stained the cracks of her dry lips where it was not slowly flowing from, dribbling down her chin and into her lap. The hand he wasn't holding to his chest haphazardly bent up from the elbow until her fingers blindly grazed Azriel's neck. Responding to the gentle touch, Azriel lowered his head further, nose burying into her cheek, his hand holding the other side of her head.
"Nobody forgot about you," Cassian said. "Never. I don't know what you saw or heard but you have there was not a day you weren't on my mind." Arwen continued to gasp, but he could see the attention she gave him. Listening. "I would go down to your grave. I'd talk to you, tell you about my life, get away from these pricks."
Azriel had been murmuring into her ear as well, soft declarations of his love. Arwen's pants slowed to short, laboured breaths, yet Cassian wishing for those desperate pants again. These breaths were weak and weakening. Her hand was still limp under his and the weight of her head was held up by Azriel's shoulder.
He was lost on what to do, what to say.
Arwen looked away from him, looking down at the empty floor away from them, letting her eyelids flutter. A moan sent more blood trickling from her mouth and her fingers fell away from Azriel's neck. Cassian's own breathing faltered as he choked down his panic. He couldn't live with this again.
Making a rugged, desperate sound, Azriel yanked on her body, turning her around so she was facing him. "No," he said, the word hissed between his teeth. He held the back of her head in his palm, forcing her to look at him. There was a fury in his eyes, a frustration and rage that Cassian knew he had been bottling for two and a half centuries. While Arwen hadn't held Cassian's gaze, she held Azriel's, staring at him like nothing else existed. Azriel shook his head. "No," he repeated, shaking his head.
She looked sad.
Cassian stood, his knees almost giving out as he surveyed the townhouse. But his usual solutions, weapons and fists and threats, were worth nothing here. Rhysand still hadn't moved and Feyre had refused to leave his side. He spun around, looking each way, his throat tight and the world tipping, looking for something. Anything.
A gilded flared just outside the window caught his attention. Mor crashed through the door a second later, the High Lord of Day at her side, clothed in white and gold like he was sent from the Mother herself. "Thank fuck," he uttered.
~
Cassian was half-way up the stairs, watching Arwen's legs bob as they hung over the side of Azriel's arm when he stopped, realising his other brother wasn't following. Darting back to the sitting room, he found Feyre now kneeling next to Rhysand who had dropped to the floor, his arms hooked around his tented knees. Nothing she said was being heard.
Cassian knelt on his other side, looking at Feyre. "Can youâ" He couldn't finish. Can you go make sure she still alive? Feyre hesitated, but nodded, chasing after the rest of her family upstairs. Breaking his cracked lips apart, he said to Rhys, "Helion's got her."
Rhysand nodded mutely.
"She's okay," he added, despite not knowing if that was true. "Don't you want to go up there?"
He stared ahead at nothing. "She was chained to me," he whispered, voice strained. Cassian frowned. Rhysand lifted his trembling hand, pressing the backs of his fingers to his lips. "She was chained to me all that time."
"I don't understand."
"Chained," he repeated as if that word alone was enough to explain everything. Rhysand gestured to his wrists where there was nothing but the end of his jacket's cuffs and skin. "It kept her here. Kept her linked to me. She never left. We couldn't see her. We couldn't hear her."
Just like her nightmares. The sickening realisation punched Cassian deep into his guts. Not like her nightmares. They were her nightmares.
"She begged me every day for years to see her." Rhysand shook his head, tears tracing glistening lines down his tanned cheeks. "Watched me get rid of everything that reminded me of her."
"She's forgiven you," Cassian told him. "I've seen it."
Rhysand pushed to his feet and Cassian rose with him just in time to catch his brother from stumbling over nothing. "She was there, Cass." Rhysand gripped him back, nails digging like talons into Cassian's arms. Beads of tears dripped down his cheeks, dropping from his chin. The High Lord's face was splotched with red, his chest making rugged heaves. "Gods, she was Under the Mountain with me. Fuck, she was there." He slapped a hand to his mouth, his body bowing forward, shoulder racking as Cassian held his weight from collapsing completely as he frantically wept.
Cassian felt dread pool in his stomach, his feet becoming strangely cold even in their thick boots. Rhysand had kept the details of those fifty years scarce, but the scars, however invisible, were there to be read. He knew of the atrocities that must have occurred; the dangerous, dark things Rhysand had to do to surviveâfor this court to survive. The thought of Rhysand down there alone had been a guilt Cassian struggled with through those years, and even more now. The added idea of Arwen being there too...
"Rhys," he said, tucking away the instinct of his own reaction for later. "Breathe, alright. She's here now. We can see her."
"I nearly killed her again."
"You did what you thought was right." He squeezed his brother's shoulder. "Rhys, she's up there now and if something does go wrong, where do you want to be?"
Rhysand stared back at him, violets a blurred muddle of colour beneath the watery film.
Eh, not too happy about how I wrote this chapter. I tried re-writing it which is why the update was a bit delayed but I just couldn't get the scene right so I apologise if Rhysand specifically seems a bit out of whack here.