Azriel

It wasn't fun being in the wrong.

A fact made less bearable by the conscious knowledge of being wrong.

Azriel couldn't help the building weight in his chest. The bubbling grief and regret of causing his brother such pain. But in the same moment he could not let get of his rage. The ancients had once described rage as residing in the liver, one love elegist describing his 'simmering liver' as 'swelling with crotechy bile' a fact he only knew from the many lovesick rants Rhys went on.

What a chore, to be the friend of an academic. They always had waxing words on standby to build up your regret.

Unfortunately Rhys had chosen this moment to remain silent, to take his defiant statement on the chin. Azriel had been hoping for a bit of rage. Perhaps even a petulant lashing out if only to make it feel less... vile.

Cassian shifted uncomfortably at his side. He had been a nervous wreck before the beach meeting, hence they were so late. A combination of meeting up with Isabella in a date setting, a family setting for Oliver and interacting with Rhys had resulted in a melt down that Azriel hadn't dared call a panic attack.

His lover wouldn't react well to that 'labelling'.

"If you're going to fight like dogs," Isabella's eyes dropped low, submissive. "I'm going to take Oliver back home."

"That's not a bad idea." Cassian rose to his feet. Isabella blinked up at him in surprise. "I'll come with you."

Rhys huffed but Cassian didn't miss a beat.

"Best we just have this conversation in pairs and then as a group."

He gave no other explanation before Isabella and a now sleepy Oliver were bundled up and out the door. Both Rhys and Azriel waved at the little boy who was curled up in his mother's arms.

They may be preparing to fight like dogs but they weren't going to do so in front of a child.

Azriel waved down the young waiter crushing on Rhys, ordering himself a coffee and Rhys the sugariest milkshake he could think of. Which was easy since it was his favourite.

Rhys only sighed, immediately footing the tab before Azriel could step in.

"Are we going to talk or sit in silence?" Rhys asked, clearly making an effort. Which only served to make Azriel feel like shit for not being the first to start the conversation. "Because I doubt you're finished after those encouraging words."

He kind of was but also wasn't.

Maybe relax a little first.

He all but mentally growled at the shadows. They were right of course. At some point his shoulders had tensed and raised, the equivalent of his hackles rising. It took far too much effort to relax. He had to physically roll his shoulders to Rhys' bewildered amusement.

"Seriously?" His brother demands. "You were that tense."

"It's not exactly a relaxing debate."

"I was under the impression we were on the same side." Rhys' voice was cordial, practiced. "Don't we all want the same thing?"

Azriel snorts, "A happy ever after?"

Rhys cocks head in interest. "Perhaps. There's nothing wrong with dreaming of simpler life."

A statement that reveal more about Rhys' ideal world that Azriel's. The shadowsinger had never wanted a simple life. He wanted money and wealth, enough to support his family, keep food on the table and a roof over his head. To have his mate never want anything and his children's education assured.

Rhys would never understand that.

"You don't even know what a simple life is." Azriel's voice had gone hoarse and he had a horrible feeling that his eyes might be watering. "Isabella had a simple life, Cassian did, so did I. You had a good life."

Rhys eyes him, not passing judgement but letting him speak. "A good beginning perhaps."

Azriel doesn't refute the statement.

"But you have never wanted for something so desperately." Azriel pressed, expression blank but pleading with him to understand his point.

A muscle in his jaw clicked.

"I have grieved," Rhys answered instead, eyes growing distant. "I have screamed until my throat has bled and begged for a better ending."

"But it is not fundamental to you."

The waiter returned. When she left Azriel swapped their drinks but didn't touch the ridiculous milkshake. Until he looked down at the decadent treat that is.

He gestured to the drinks, "You didn't feel the need to order something so obscene."

"You ordered for me."

"I ordered your standard drink."

Rhys sighed, "So I like a simple drink, how does that not prove my point."

He truly didn't understand. Azriel wasn't sure why he expected him to. Perhaps he had hoped. Hope that the brother he adores will understand him.

"Because you don't need it, Rhys." Azriel whispers. "You don't keep cupboard after cupboard after cupboard stocked full of food. Endless supplies of blankets and wood so that your home is never cold. There's no ingrained desperation, Rhys."

His brother seemed to pause. To genuinely consider his words.

Azriel fell silent. Throat closing up. It was as if he had used up all his words. Spoken too much and now he couldn't open his mouth. He had said too much. Revealed far too much.

To his credit, Rhys did not look at Azriel any differently. Though the shadowsinger knew his brother was looking at him in a new light. With new understanding. Rhys could be naive at times, or so stubborn and set in his ways that it could be called naivety.

But he was always willing to listen. Even if he didn't appear to understand at first, or even attempt to understand at first, he would. Rhys couldn't help himself. He was a fixer. A problem solver. Once you told him something it would bug him until he acknowledged and sorted it.

"What does this have to do with Isabella?" Rhys asked, voice calm and slow. He sounded like he didn't want to know the answer. Azriel didn't blame him. "Or rather, what does this have to do with me?"

"You could marry anyone you want." Azriel states. "It's a known fact."

"There are politics to consider, Azriel." Rhys lightly reminded him but there was no real argument to his tone. "And there are less willing candidates than you believe."

All true points.

Azriel shrugged, "But you always knew marriage was secure."

"A political one, yes." Rhys said slowly, and Azriel knew his brother never considered a marriage for politics to be a happy one. "But not a love match, let alone a mate."

"But you wouldn't be alone."

And there was the sticking point.

"You're a High Lord Rhys," Azriel drawled with a sarcastic lilt. "No one is going to leave you behind, forgotten."

Rhys leant forward in his chair and Azriel had the horrible feeling of being seen. Truly seen.

"I have always seen you, Az." Rhys murmured, voice low as he held Azriel's burning gaze. "You don't need a mate or wife to stave off the isolation."

The high lord tilted his head to the side.

"I could never leave you in the darkness."

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･

Cassian

"Will you read me a bedtime story?" Oliver whispered, rubbing at his eyes. Cassian choked down the soft rumbling purr that threatened in his chest. His boy was so adorable. Still, he wasn't his boy just yet. So Cassian turns to where Isabella is hovering in the bedroom corner, tiding away the toys in a vague attempt at keeping the place clean.

She doesn't notice him, too lost in her own head. Cassian clears his throat. She jerks in surprise, eyes wide before smiling over at them.

"A story before bed?" Cassian asks as she walks over to where he is perching on the end of Oliver's bed. "Just the one?"

"One!" Oliver gasps, eyes wide and pleading.

Isabella laughs and Cassian's heart stutters at the sound.

"Two then." Isabella counters and Oliver whines.

Cassian tickled his foot through the covers, grinning at his laughter. He shuffles closer to Oliver's head, wings tucking back and out the way as he leans down to stage whisper, "Think we can bargain with her for a third story?"

Oliver nods eagerly.

"Hmmmm..." Cassian narrows his eyes on Isabella as she settles into the armchair. "What can we offer her?"

"Hugs?" Oliver suggests and Cassian all but melts as his innocence. "Or those brownies she likes."

"OOoooh...." Casisan tugs up Azriel's old quilt cover, ensuring that Ollie is tucked in. "I like that plan."

He comically clears his throat, turning to Isabella, "Milady," Oliver laughs, "Would you consider the offer of hugs–" Something moves in the corner of his eye, "and your favourite brownies." His wings flare, blocking the view of Isabella and Oliver from the doorway. "In exchange for three bedtime stories?"

Isabella grins, face bright with joy as Cassian captures her sole attention. She doesn't notice the male lurking outside the bedroom door.

Oliver fell asleep after story number two. Cassian offered for her to join him in an evening drink but she had gone quiet again, watching Oliver.

"If you want to talk about it–"

"That's your job tonight." she had gone emotionless again, quiet and cold. "I need you to fix it, Cassian."

She cuts him a sharp look, "I'm done with the petulant bullshit."

He flinches back, having never heard her swear sharply.

"I left behind an arrogant man, more keen on being the alpha than being good." She raises her chin. "I will not trade a damaged marriage for the start of a broken relationship."

She closes her eyes for a second, taking a steadying breath.

"So fix it and I'll work out the rest."

He nods and turns from the room.

As expected, Azriel and Rhys are outside in the back garden patio. It's getting overgrown and the dusk light casts long shadows through the hedges and budding plants. It's a small space. A fraction bigger than the front garden. Rhys hadn't been pleased with it, he still remembered the days Rhys spent chasing his little sister through the garden.

Cassian makes a note to work on the garden before spring is in full bloom. Oliver will want to be outside more now that it's warming up.

Rhys waves as a hand as he closes the glass door. A garden chair appears next to them, a glass of whiskey following. He downs the glass, letting it burn his throat before allowing the High Lord to refill it with a flicker of magic.

He leaves the glass this time, just holding it. Azriel doesn't have a drink, no doubt too busy thinking to bother with clouding his mind.

"Talk go well, I take it." Cassian comments, voice only a fraction bitter.

Rhys sighs, shoulders sagging a little.

Cassian arches a brow at Azriel but his lover is still staring off into the distance. Only his shadows offer Cassian a fraction of attention. An errant dark wisp floats of the shadow singer's shoulder, stumbling down into the palm of Cassian's hand and curling around his fingers.

"Bad conversation then?"

"A necessary one." Rhys comments, sipping from his drink. "It was never going to be enjoyable."

"Bella?" Azriel asks, a shadow curling around his ear.

"With Oliver." Cassian watches Azriel's head tilt. "She wanted to spend some time with him."

"He's asleep." Cassian snorts at Az's blunt answer. "I thought she would want to join us."

"Why?" Rhys asks, leaning back in his chair. "We're grown males, we don't need a supervisor."

"From her previous comments I didn't think she trusted us together."

"You don't trust us together." Rhys corrects, eyes closing as he relaxes in the dying light. "I thought I told you to stop projecting onto Isabella."

Cassian interrupts before they can go any further, "She might not be concerned about us together but she is rightfully upset."

Rhys tenses and Cassian realises he's waiting to take on their accusations and blame. Which is a fab way to make one feel like a dick.

"We need to sort our shit out." Cassian states and Azriel snorts.

"We already started." He gestured between himself and Rhys before cornering Cassian with an arched brow. "Are you ready to stop avoiding us?"

He shrugs, not bothering to lie. He had never been good at lying anyways. "No but that's no longer an option."

Rhys chuckles, "you always did hate conflict."

"I hate conflict with the two of you." Cassian counters, "I love a good argument otherwise."

The scent of sadness briefly began to permeate the air and Cassian stiffened. Eyes narrowing on the pair. What exactly had the two of them discussed while he was gone?

"I'm sorry." Rhys said into the night and all three of them kept their gaze out on the setting sun and not each other. "I was trying to take Isabella from you."

"So you admit it." Cassian doesn't sound as triumphant as he thought he would. "It was a fairly shitty move."

"It was." Rhys paused, scent changing as he began to think darker thoughts. "I came back fr-from there and I was so pissed at life."

Cassian's eyes begin to burn. Immediately his throat closes up as the grief threatens to overwhelm him. They still hadn't discussed the 50 years he had been gone. Part of him knew that most of this tension was because of that. Because Rhys broke that trust and changed the dynamic. But none of them were ready to handle that discussion.

"I felt like the world owed me," Cassian can hear his frown. "Or maybe that I was owed nothing."

Even the bird song and wind died down to hear the High Lord's confession.

"It hard to tell. Some days I believed I was righteous and deserved retribution and praise. Others I felt worthless and undeserving."

Rhys falls silent, voice too thick with tears to continue on.

"And then Isabella." Azriel supplies.

"And then Isabella." Rhys hoarsely agrees. "She was a gift. Perfect and pure."

He snorts in amusement, "I'll admit I got on my high horse and decided to be saviour, though I think we were all guilty of that."

"We would have to be truly cold hearted to stand back and let it slide." Cassian comments, mood souring further at the reminder of Isabella's very much alive abuser. "No one can blame you for stepping in."

"I think we can blame me for trying to be selfish."

"After 50 years of giving?" The words slip out before Cassian can stop them. The effect is immediate, all of them tensing.

The silence drags on for some time with Rhys no longer willing to share. He had said the wrong thing. It was the second time today he had said the wrong thing. Cassian didn't let himself dwell on that for too long.

"So where do we go from here?"

A/N: Slightly shorter chapter this time as I don't want to focus too much on the batboys perspective. How are people liking the perspective split? Would you prefer Isabella to remain as the primary and dominant narrator or are you liking the split perspectives?