Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The four-story Widdershins Way Bed and Breakfast was halfway decorated for the upcoming holiday season, but the rest of the decorations were scattered around in tubs and boxes.

Garland pooled on the floor. Ornament boxes were stacked by the window, strings of bells lay draped across the living room trunk/coffee table, and random Christmas knick-knacks were waiting where she had gotten them out and then sat them down to do something else. It looked like Christmas had exploded all over the house.

The scent of pine and firewood and cinnamon filled the living room, along with the smell of the stew on the kitchen stove. Gwyn’s carefully crafted Crane Wives inspired Spotify station played over the speaker sitting on one of the end tables. Outside, a winter storm dropped snow on the ground, making her grateful, yet again, for the instant on generator she had invested in last year.

Decorating seemed like an endless task, but it had to be done before the second major tourist season started.

This was one of the few weekends of the year that the bed and breakfast was closed. She always took the weekend after Thanksgiving to change the house’s decorations from autumn to Christmas and to spend a weekend alone, sans guests, with her daughter. Luckily Seryn liked decorating. Especially when Gwyn promised they could have a movie marathon later that night and watch whatever movies Seryn wanted.

Gwyn tightened her ponytail and looked down at her daughter. The five-year-old was playing with a couple carved wooden reindeer on the hearth. Seryn was a small, lithe girl with long wavy black hair, a light golden-brown skin tone, and a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her eyes were the same as Gwyn’s, big and teal.

“You can’t do stuff like that, I was scared. What if something happened to you?” Seryn said in a high-pitched voice as she shook one reindeer at the other. Lifting the bigger one, she made it stamp the floor and spoke in a forced deep tone. “I got jobs to do! Important secret jobs. ‘Cause I…I have to go!” The big reindeer started to run off dramatically while Seryn laid the other reindeer down on the mantle and pretended to sob. “Don’t leave! What about the funeral?”

“I think you’ve been watching too many K-dramas with Mrs. Turner,” Gwyn said, sitting down on the hearth. She plucked a piece of old holly off her sweater sleeve and twirled it between her fingers.

Seryn trotted the smaller reindeer up to her and had it prance across her leg. “Can I keep them in my room?”

“You have your own set,” Gwyn said, tapping the reindeer on its antlers with the holly. “The needlefelt ones, remember?”

“I know, but can I keep these too? There’s only two, and there’s ‘posed to be eight.”

Gwyn arched her eyebrow. “So now you’ll have ten? Because you already have eight.”

Seryn’s smile was bright and quick before she resumed her calm, intent expression. “Ten’s a good number.”

“Mhmm. I’ll think about it while we finish decorating.” Making a big show of considering it, Gwyn stood and picked up an ornamental metal star. She turned it over in her hands and turned around the room while Seryn got up, still holding the reindeer. There was a little tug on the hem of Gwyn’s sweater.

“It’s a good number, Mom?”

Gwyn ruffled Seryn’s hair, about to answer her, when a knock at the door stopped her. It was followed by the doorbell. Whoever was out in this storm had to be crazy or desperate. The roads would be nearly impassable by now, and it wasn’t supposed to let up until the next morning.

“I thought it was an us weekend,” Seryn said, her expression clouding up.

“It is,” Gwyn said, frowning.

The person at the door knocked harder, practically like they were attempting to break it down. They started alternating between hitting the door and pressing the doorbell. Gwyn grabbed squeezed Seryn’s shoulder and stepped over to the hearth again. She grabbed the fire poker. Should she text Emerie just in case she needed back-up? Her best friend would be over in a heartbeat if she thought Gwyn and Seryn needed her.

“Mom, who is that?” Seryn blinked.

“Just stay here,” Gwyn said, gripping the fire poker tighter. It could be one of the neighbors. She was just being cautious seeing how the visitor was now beating out a rhythm on the door.

“Mom…”

“Stay right there,” she repeated, heading for the door, stepping over and around decorations and boxes. The banging stopped and she could hear men arguing. For a second, her breath caught and she almost yelled at Seryn to go out the back door, but she recognized the loudest voice. Her other best friend’s husband, who she liked but kept a few secrets from.

“—doesn’t mind. Gwyn! Hey, Gwyn! I’m freezing my ass off out here, open the door!”

“You could at least say please.”

Gwyn stopped, her hand on the doorknob. She knew that voice, too. Memories rushed through her mind, both of him and the decisions she had made without him. For a moment, she considered not opening that door. Wouldn’t it be so much easier if he just went away?

“For the love of—Pleeease, Gwyn! I need my ass!”

The third voice was also familiar. "You are being an ass, Cassian."

Steeling herself and yanking open the door, she rested the fire poker on her shoulder and regarded the snow-covered, frosty men on her porch incredulously. Most people would have been thrilled to have three members of the popular rock band Legends Written show up at their house unannounced.

Gwyn could have used a heads up.

Rhysand was holding back Cassian’s fist so he couldn’t drum on her door anymore. He nodded to her. “Sorry about him, he was trapped in the car too long. It’s been a while, Gwyn.”

“Just a few years,” she said, her gaze jumping from him to a smirking, undaunted Cassian.

“I tried to call and warn you we were coming,” he said, “You didn’t answer.”

“So you showed up anyways.” She lifted her eyebrows at him. “Where’s your Jeep?” There wasn’t a vehicle in the driveway. She wondered where Nesta and Rhodes were…

“Our rental is stuck out on the road, so we walked. Were you going to stab us with the fire poker?”

Gwyn turned to Azriel, who she had been trying to ignore while she got her spinning thoughts in order. He was leaning against the house, snow melting in his black hair, his hand over the doorbell, protecting it from Cassian. Heat rushed under her skin, a mix of uncertainty, nostalgia, worry, and, to her surprise, desire. She rushed to crush that feeling. “Maybe,” she said, going for an airy tone. “Or beat you with it. I haven’t decided.”

“Understandable,” he said, the corner of his mouth tugging up the slightest bit. Don’t do that.

“Aw, Gwyn,” Cass said, “If you have to hit someone, hit Rhys, he crashed us.”

“I said we should pull off the road two hours ago,” Rhys argued, “You wanted to keep going.”

“Uncle Cassian!” Seryn interrupted the bickering as she went racing past Gwyn and leapt into Cass’ arms.

Gwyn did not look at Azriel. She would not look at him. Her heart thundered in her chest.

“Seryn!” Cassian hugged her tight and then held her out straight like a kitten. Insane arm muscles, much? “Why are you covered in glitter?”

“We’re decorating, are you gonna help? Where’s Rhodes? And Aunt Nesta?” She kicked her legs lazily back and forth and he pulled her in again.

Cassian grumbled. “Why isn’t anyone happy to just see me?”

“Who’s this?” Rhys asked, giving Seryn a small wave. She tucked in closer to Cass and gave him a small wave back.

“I’m Seryn Catrin Berdara,” she said in a proper tone.

“Nice to meet you, Seryn Catrin Berdara,” he replied and put his hand to his chest. “I’m Rhys Antares, and I’m freezing. Slowly but surely I’m getting frostbite.”

Seryn’s nose wrinkled. “Hi, Mr. Rhys. You can come inside so you don’t get bit. You, too, Uncle Cass.”

Cassian set her down. “Finally!” He barreled inside, pausing only briefly to give Gwyn a hug and some reassurance. “I promise I’ll explain, gotta get warm first. I did text, I swear. Can’t think!” He hurried into the house.

Gwyn watched with her heart in her throat as her daughter walked up to Azriel. She tilted her head at him. “You’ve got ice in your hair.”

“I thought it looked neat,” Azriel said.

She shook her head. “No, sorry, you look cold, wanna come inside? You can put up the garlands and not freeze like Mr. Rhys. What’s your name?”

Azriel hesitated and then took her hand in one of his scarred ones. He didn’t know he was meeting his daughter for the first time. “I’m Azriel. Or Az. Not mister, though.”

Ser pulled him inside the house, leading him over the threshold. “Okay, want to see my reindeer, I’ve got ten…”

For a second, Azriel looked back at Gwyn, who met his hazel gaze. He didn’t look shocked because he didn’t know, he didn’t guess…at least not yet. But he looked like he wanted to talk. She turned away.

Gwyn didn’t realize she had been holding onto the fire poker with white-knuckled fists until Rhys touched her arm and she loosened her grip.

“Are you all right?” he asked, “You look a little pale…I really do apologize for us showing up like this.”

Gwyn shook herself and then gestured toward the door. “Come on, you can tell me about it inside. Before you actually do get frostbite. I’ll make coffee.” And maybe she would pour a little extra something in her own because skies knew she needed it right about now.

Chapter Text

Azriel turned the small wooden reindeer over in his hands, watching as Rhys sat on the floor and played with Gwyn’s daughter, easily winning her friendship. He had stared in surprise when the girl had rushed out of the house, dashing past him. Right. Az had known that Gwyn had a daughter but seeing her bolt out of the house in a whirlwind of excitement caught him off guard. She had Gwyn’s eyes. Ocean eyes. Cassian had mentioned the girl a few times since Nesta and her and Cass’ son Rhodes visited Gwyn often. Sometimes Cass tagged along. But knowing about the girl was different than seeing her in person.

This day was an odd one. First, no one had listened to him when he told them the snow forecast. Rhys and Cassian had already decided that they were going to drive themselves to their next venue upstate while Mor and Amren headed to the airport. Cass wanted to show off the snowy countryside to Rhys while Az had plainly stated they weren’t going to see anything except a snowstorm. He was promptly told to go get the hell on the plane with Mor and Amren if he was that worried about it.

Which meant Az had to go with them before they were lost in a blizzard and he was somehow blamed for it since he was the oldest. It wasn’t like he wanted to go to Rhys’ mother and have to explain that he had lost the other two to snow and stupidity. Obviously.

Then, like he said it would, the snowstorm started. He had wanted to pull off the road before they simply couldn’t, but again, he had lost the argument. Finally Rhys had come to his senses, but Cass had insisted they could make it. By the time they all agreed to stop, the storm was a whiteout. Cassian had remembered Gwyn lived nearby. It had sent an electric jolt through Azriel when Cass said her name, like it always did. Every time he thought he had put that week at the festival behind him, her name always woke up the memories. But back then she hadn’t returned his messages or calls once he got off tour—anyways. That had been a long time ago.

Cass had tried calling Gwyn and messaging her while Rhys inched the SUV in the direction of the bed and breakfast. They were almost there when the SUV slid off the road and into a ditch. They had to walk the rest of the way to the bed and breakfast. They had sent the luggage with Amren and Mor and the rest of the team…yes, this was an excellent day.

On top of everything, they were clearly imposing on Gwyn and her daughter. The mess of decorations and lack of guests had tipped him off that the bed and breakfast probably wasn’t actually open, so he had checked its website. Like he had guessed, the weekend was blocked off.

Seeing Gwyn again after five years had been a headrush. He had kept his expression as neutral as possible when she threw open the door, fire poker in hand. She had a random sprig of dried holly in her hair. He wanted to tease it out of the copper strands. Pieces of glitter and garland clung to the comfortable thick sweater she wore. Something restless in him settled down like it was coming home at the sight of her. Az had no idea what to do with that feeling.

“Can we switch?”

Az realized he had been staring at the snowy window. He turned his attention to the girl. Seryn. She was holding out a different reindeer, this one tiny and made of felt. Once she had brought them into the toasty living room, Seryn had gone upstairs and came back with a group of reindeer toys. Az had been introduced to all ten of them, the eight felt ones and the two wooden ones. Rhys had started asking questions about the toys and Seryn had pulled him into a game, most likely reminding Rhys of his son Nyx.

“Of course,” Az said, handing over the reindeer. “What’s this one’s name again?”

“Bartholomew,” she said as she gave him the felt one. “Because he has a top hat and Bartholomew is a fancy name.”

“You don’t call him Bart?” Rhys said. He trotted one of the reindeer around a copse of miniature wooden firs.

Seryn shook her head. “No, he hates that.”

“We wouldn’t want to insult him,” Rhys said. “Mind your manners, Az.”

Az lifted his eyebrows at Rhys and set the reindeer on his knee. It wasn’t balanced properly, one leg being a tiny bit shorter than the others. He had to snatch it before it fell, his hand darting out and engulfing the toy. He caught Seryn’s quick glance of worried disapproval before she sat down next to Rhys again.

Put the reindeer in his hoodie pocket for safety, he stood up. Picking a path through the decorations, he left the living room and followed the smell of coffee and food into the kitchen. Gwyn stood at the stove, stirring a pot of hot chocolate while coffee dripped into a glass pot. In a crockpot on the counter, some kind of stew bubbled. Cassian wasn’t there. Az wondered if he should retreat. It wasn’t like he had a plan.

“If you’re looking for Cass, he went to get more firewood,” Gwyn said, glancing back over her shoulder at him.

Azriel looked around the kitchen. That sprig of holly was still stuck in her hair. “You weren’t expecting guests. We could go to a hotel—”

Gwyn laughed. “Ooo, now that’d be a sight, three snowmen trudging into a hotel. Passing out in the lobby. You’d be going straight to the hospital with actual frostbite.” She tapped the wooden spoon onto the side of the pot and then waved it like a wand at the window and the blustering snow outside. “Exhibit A of the causes leading up to your inevitable frozen demise.”

Az frowned. “I’d figure it out.”

“You know, I don’t think you’d make it past the Tanakas’ place before turning into boy band popsicles,” she said with a grin. “Can you get coffee mugs out of the cabinet?” She pointed the spoon at a nearby cabinet.

“Take back the boy band comment.”

She went back to stirring the hot chocolate. “Nah. You lucked out when Mor and Amren joined. You were this close to being NSYNC the Trio.”

His mouth twitched. It was always so easy around her, the way she made him smile without thinking about it. He crossed his arms, reminding himself why he was in the kitchen in the first place. “Look, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable—”

“Things aren’t awkward if you don’t make them awkward,” she said in a singsong voice that had enough ‘sing’ to it to make him take notice. “So don’t, Azriel.”

His name on her tongue gave him pause. He stepped toward the cabinet. “I’m just—”

“Coffee mugs, please and thank you.”

He opened the cabinet. All right, he could go along with this. All of the coffee mugs were mismatched. There were white-speckled country blue mugs, mugs from Disney World, a mug shaped like a pig, another one splotched with pink. On the lowest shelf was a small mug decorated with two red squirrels, one big and one little. He noticed the wooden stepstool below a different cabinet. Picking up that mug, he set it on the counter. “I thought it’d have a reindeer on it.”

Gwyn flicked her eyes to the mug. “She likes squirrels, too.”

Az picked out a few more mugs. “Seryn’s almost Rhodes’ age, isn’t she?”

“Almost. Not quite,” Gwyn said, studying the pot. Her shoulders were tense. “She’s about a year younger.”

Hmm. That would make her five. "They're good friends?"

"Very."

Az looked at the remaining mugs and then picked up the one that had been beside Seryn’s. It was tall and covered in swirls of deep green and blue. “I like the names she chooses. I’ve never heard of a reindeer named Barthlomew.”

Gwyn’s shoulders loosened up. “Don’t call him Barty.”

“Or Bart,” Az said, “We were lectured. In a nice way.” He held out the mug to Gwyn. “She’s a friendly kid.”

“She’s the best,” Gwyn said. She reached for the mug, their fingers brushing as she took it. Her hand was warm from the heat of the stove. Unable to stop himself, he pulled the holly from her hair, gently sliding it out. He couldn’t read the look in her eyes before she turned back to the pot. “Can you go make sure Cass didn’t get lost? It’s been a while, and Nesta will have words for me if I lose him.”

Az nodded. “Is there a shed…?”

“There’s a barn.”

“You go all the way out to the barn for wood?” He tried not to frown while thinking about her going out in a storm like this one.

Gwyn smiled, mischief lighting in her eyes. “Not exactly. There may or may not be a wood box beside the back door. But I thought Cass could burn off some energy, seeing how he was using my door as a drum set, so I might have sent him to the extra supply in the barn.”

This time Az couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll go rescue him.”

Chapter Text

“It’s official, they canceled the next show.”

“Whoops.” Cassian hunkered down on the couch, seeming to hide behind a box of wreaths. Of course, it didn’t actually provide him any real cover from the glares Rhys and Azriel leveled at him. Gwyn supposed he would need at least three or four more boxes if he wanted actual coverage. “You two agreed to take the rental. Take some blame. There's plenty to go around.”

“You started pouting when we were talking about the airport,” Az said, "We had to take pity on you."

“I don’t pout,” Cass grumbled.

“You do,” Rhys said, “And regardless of who is to blame—”

“Cassian,” Az said quietly. Cass picked up a wreath and made like he was going to smack Az upside the head with it. Gwyn cleared her throat, and Cass put down the decoration with a soft pat to its red bow.

“Regardless, we disappointed a lot of fans,” Rhys said, pocketing his phone. “And it’s the last show before our holiday break.”

“If it makes you feel better, the storm is heading there, too, so the weather was going to most likely get your show canceled anyways,” Gwyn said. She sipped on her personal coffee-hot chocolate-Bailey’s mixture and perched on the arm of one of the plush chairs.

Rhys threw himself into a restored antique wingback near the fire. “It does actually make me feel a bit better. A minuscule amount but I’ll take it.”

“At least until it leaks on social media that we didn’t show up at all,” Az said lightly. He was sitting on the other side of the wreath box from Cassian. Gwyn had noticed him occasionally looking at Seryn, who was working on a unicorn puzzle on the coffee table. Every now and then, he would lean forward and move puzzle pieces around, clicking them together to help her.

“It’s the optics,” Rhys groaned. “But Mor and Amren were rerouted, so I suppose it won’t look as bad as it could have.” The guys had texted everyone in their families and the band to catch them up on what was going on. Not that it was important, but Gwyn wondered who Az was texting. Again, not that it was her business or that she cared too much.

“We could always post that we’re here,” Cass suggested, “We were trying to get there but we got stuck in Christmas Town."

“It’s Holly Hill,” corrected Azriel. What, had he studied up on the place? Or he had seen it on Google Maps or the bed and breakfast’s website or Nesta had mentioned it. Gwyn knew his memory was insanely good.

“It’s Christmas Town,” Cass argued, “They have a Christmas postmark thing.”

When Rhys and Az both looked at her, Gwyn shrugged. “He’s talking about the postal service. It’s because the town has holly in the name.” When they kept staring, she continued, hands wrapped around her coffee mug. “People like to collect Christmas postmarks, and…yeah. People from all over bring their mail here to get it stamped this time of year since we use a Christmas themed postmark for the month.”

“That’s not all,” Cassian said, “They decorate everything, and there’s an outdoor ice-skating rink and a tree farm and a snowman maze and a gingerbread baking competition and lots more. There’s a newsletter. They go all out.”

“Wow,” Rhys said. He lifted his mug of coffee in a kind of cheers. “It really is Christmas Town. Feyre and Nyx would love it.”

“People like coming here for winter,” Seryn said. She poked a couple puzzle pieces across the table, closer to Azriel, probably seeing how much he would help. Gwyn’s chest tightened. “We’re really good at Christmas.”

“Speaking of, we can help you put up the decorations, Gwyn,” Cass said, “And we’ll pay for our room and board and food and—”

“Nope.” Gwyn shook her head. “It’s an off weekend, so you’re not official B&B guests, which makes you my personal guests. I’m not making you pay—”

“We aren’t staying for free and taking advantage of your generosity,” Azriel said calmly.

“It’s a house full of beds that aren’t being used,” Gwyn countered, “And we’ve got to eat the food in the fridge before it goes bad.” Most likely they would be stuck here for a couple days, at least until it calmed down enough for the snow plow to go through and a tow truck to get their rental out.

Az reached over and pushed two puzzle pieces together. “It’s a business.”

“One that currently isn’t open,” Gwyn replied, making a face at him. “What's wrong with being my guest? Do you want to sleep in the barn? Would you feel better about it?”

“Az, if you get us put out in the barn, I’m never forgiving you,” Cassian said. He glared at Az over the pile of wreaths. “Dead serious.”

“Agreed,” Rhys added, clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth like a displeased exclamation point.

“Doing decorations is like working sometimes ‘cause we’ve got so many. And the outside decorations are hard,” Seryn said. She moved a line of finished puzzle to the side and looked up at Az, teal eyes clever and thoughtful. “So you can do lots of decorations instead of paying money. Okay?”

“I—” Az blinked. “Okay.”

Gwyn hadn’t expected him to cave so quickly, but it was hard to say no to Seryn’s bargaining skills. All those times she had watched Gwyn negotiate with guests had an effect. Plus, who could say no to that look?

With a grin, Cass got up and reached over to ruffle Seryn’s black hair, getting a laugh and protest out of her. “Where do you want us to start, little decorations captain? And please don’t say outside, your mom already tried to get rid of me that way.”

“I did not. I actually sent someone to save you,” Gwyn said, taking another sip of her drink.

“You’re welcome,” Az added.

“I didn’t need saving!”

Seryn ducked to escape Cass’ hand. “Um, hmm, we need to get garland on the stair rails. And the mantel isn’t done. And there’s the Christmas pillows and the Christmas dishes and…” She took a breath and pushed her now messy hair back out of her face. “Mom, what do you want them to do?”

Gwyn shifted on the arm of the chair as the expectant faces turned toward her. “Don’t you want to rest?” she asked, falling into the innkeeper roll that she had become accustomed to over the last few years. “You did just get caught in a snowstorm. That had to be exhausting.” And they slid into a ditch, even though none of them seem injured in the slightest.

“However, you just gave us coffee and hot chocolate,” Rhys said. “We’re revitalized.”

“And we were stuck in the SUV for hours. We need to move,” Cass said.

Gwyn glanced at Az, who nodded in agreement. It seemed like she had a small squad to put to work. She sighed. “You three start unpacking anything that’s not breakable. If it looks breakable, move on to something else. Ser, you’re in charge of setting out the little knick-knacks.”

Cass picked up Ser and set her on her feet. “You heard her, get going, short stuff! And put on some Christmas music.”

She spun on one socked foot. “It’s not December.”

Az offered her a small smile. “But we’re decorating?”

Seryn considered it, and Gwyn was reminded of how much her pondering expression reminded her of Az. It was much easier to see the resemblance between the two of them when he was sitting there, only feet away from their daughter. While Seryn had her eyes and freckles and heart-shaped face, she had a skin tone closer to Az’s and his thick wavy black hair and their expressions were so much alike Gwyn didn’t know how Cass hadn’t figured it out ages ago. But he didn’t know about that time at the festival, so why would he assume?

Seryn returned an almost identical smile. “Okay, but only while we’re decorating. Then we can play other stuff.”

“And later we’ll make Rhys play the guitar so he won’t cry too much about not getting to play in front of his screaming fans,” Cass said, swiping her up. “Come on, Ser, let’s go wash dishes first!”

“But my puzzle—”

“We’ll finish it after decorating.”

Rhys crossed his arms over his chest. “Using a child as a shield so I can’t tackle you is low, Cassian.”

“You do it too, don’t lie.”

“I said nothing breakable,” Gwyn said, but Cass was already on the move.

"They're not decorations," he called back to her.

Az picked up the box of wreaths. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t destroy your dishes.”

“Thanks,” Gwyn said, feeling rattled and happy and torn all at the same time. The busy but fun weekend she had planned to spend with Seryn was turning into a complicated whirlwind way too quickly.

Chapter Text

Azriel spent the afternoon essentially blocking Cassian’s attempts to create a disaster in Gwyn’s bed and breakfast. Cass held to Gwyn’s decree to leave the breakables alone but that didn’t keep him away from the other decorations. He hung a wreath from the corner of the hall tree in the foyer, strung lights between the dining room sconces, created miniature battlefields in the hallway tiny holiday town, and generally put everything where it didn’t belong. Once Azriel noticed Gwyn’s eyebrows climbing up her forehead at the sight of Cass putting garland on the backs of the couches, he had snatched Cass and redirected his efforts to the banisters.

While Azriel corralled Cass, Rhys helped Seryn return the holiday town to a peaceful state.

“And this is why Cassian is forbidden from decorating,” Rhys was explaining as he removed a sleigh from where it was crashed into the front of a mercantile. “He unintentionally sows chaos and discord when it comes to this sort of thing.”

“Seems a little ‘tentional,” Seryn said. She picked up a couple snowmen from Cassian’s Snowmen Special Forces Unit (he had been very clear about that) and put one by the post office and another by a house that looked like the bed and breakfast.

Rhys smirked. “It does, doesn’t it?”

On the stairs, Cass waved a hand at the holiday town. “It looked more fun the other way,” he said. “The Snowmen SFU was going to infiltrate the caroling base.”

“So that’s why the carolers are behind the barber shop,” Azriel said. He was looking down at the scene over the side of the stairs.

“It’s their secret lair,” Cass said.

Seryn tilted her head to the side and glanced up at Cassian. “Aren’t lairs usually underground? Ms. Arthurs says they are.”

Azriel half-smiled. Excellent point, one that made Cass huff.

“Is Ms. Arthurs your teacher?” Rhys said as he began to extract the carolers and hand them to her to place.

“Yes,” Seryn said with a firm nod. “She’s very nice, she’s going to let us decorate cookies.” She took a caroler from him with a quiet thank you and set the little lady by a different house. “And we get to sing two songs at the Christmas play and most years kindergartens only get to sing one ‘cause the principal says we’re a handful.”

“You’re already in kindergarten?” Cass said, leaning over the handrail. “Stop growing up already, next time I come by you’ll be in high school.”

Seryn put her hands on her hips as Rhys placed another caroler beside the one she had set down. “You knew I was in kindergarten.”

Cass grinned. “Maybe. But still, slow it down.”

Az threaded the garland through the railing. Cass was on garland-holding duty now, which meant he was covered in strands of garland. Gwyn had called him the abominable Christmas tree when she had passed by not too long ago, cheerful red and green duvet covers in her arms as she headed to the next floor.

“I guess you like singing then? Like your mom?” Rhys asked Seryn.

“I love it,” Seryn said, all enthusiasm. “I can’t play any guitar like her yet, but I dance.” She bounced just a bit on her toes and then calmed down so she could continue fixing the mess. “Do you like the Nutcracker ballet?”

“I’ve seen it a few times,” Rhys said.

“Have you seen it?” Seryn asked, and Azriel realized she was addressing him.

“Yes.” Azriel remembered being dragged to the ballet by Rhys’ mom for “cultural events” along with Rhys and Cassian and Rhys’ sister. They had been to at least three versions of the Nutcracker by the time Az was eighteen, and he had been eleven when Rhys’ mom had practically adopted him. He spent far more time at Rhys’ house than his own and he had unofficially moved in by the time he turned twelve.

Seryn's grin was bright. “Do you know the mice in it?”

“I think so…”

“I’m going to be a mouse this year,” she said, “We’re getting grey tutus and everything. It’s got a tail. I want to put a bow on mine.”

“I think you should be the mouse and the swan,” Cass said, shoving more garland at Azriel as they made their way up the stairs. “You’d be good at both.”

“There’s lots of mice and there isn’t a swan,” Seryn said, confused.

“Wrong ballet, Cassian,” Az said.

“No, there’s definitely a swan.” There was a glint of glee in Cass’ eyes. Great, and now he was in a contrary mood since he had been demoted to bearing garland. “A big fluffy swan.”

“There’s a fairy and snowflakes and polish-belles. No swans,” Seryn said, her expression serious even as she got the name of one of the characters wrong. “It’s not the swan one.”

“Are you sure?” Cass teased, “Isn’t there a Dance of the Swans? A swan fairy?”

Seryn rolled her eyes and ignored him as she took another caroler from Rhys. Az glanced over to see Rhys looking at the girl in an amused, curious way, maybe considering how smart she was for not letting Cassian aggravate her too much.

Almost all of the carolers were back in places that made sense. Now they had to find the barber who had gone missing. Azriel glanced at Cassian. Most likely Cass had turned the barber into some kind of evil mastermind and hidden him somewhere in the small sculpture town.

“Seryn,” Gwyn called from one of the floors above them. “Can you come give me a hand?”

“Yes, one second!” she called back. She handed the last caroler back to Rhys. “That one is the choir director, so she goes at the front. I’ll be back!” Like a wink, she was away and rushing up the stairs. Az started to caution her to be careful in her socks on the wood staircase—

“Slow down, Ser,” Gwyn said from far off, having overhead her running, “We couldn’t get to the hospital if we wanted to, so don’t crash down the stairs.”

“Yes, ma’aaaam.”

Rhys set the caroler down and then walked over to lean against the bottom of the stair railing. “How did Nesta take the news of us getting stuck?”

“Oh, you know, she was thrilled at our brilliant planning. She might have reminded me once or twice that she told us we shouldn’t drive,” Cassian said, but the hint of embarrassed red in his cheeks betrayed him. “She’s also glad we’re alive and that Gwyn’s letting us stay. We owe her a massive favor.”

Rhys nodded. Azriel felt like they owed her more than a favor, but since she wouldn’t accept money or anything, he wasn’t sure how they could repay her except with a favor. She was going to have to put up with them for a few days.

Rhys fussed with some of the garland at the end of the railing, straightening a bit of ribbon. “Feyre said to tell you both that we’re all idiots. She loves us, me the most obviously, but we’re all morons. And I have to tell you because she’s going to make sure that I did.” Rhys shrugged. “So now you know what to tell her when she texts.”

“Good job,” Cassian said.

“She already texted us,” Azriel said.

“I left my phone in the living room,” Cass said, “What’d she say?”

“Same thing. That we’re idiots but she loves us,” Az said, “I guess she wanted to make sure we got the message.”

Rhys snorted. "Like I wouldn't tell you that you were idiots."

"You were the one doing the actual driving," Azriel said.

Cassian laughed. "That makes you the biggest idiot."

Above them, Seryn poked her hand through the railing and waved. “Uncle Cass, Mom said to tell you that Aunt Nesta texted her because you weren’t texting her back and she wanted to tell you that there are extra clothes for you in the storage closet if you guys need to change clothes.” She went on her tiptoes and leaned over the railing a bit. “And Mom said that she doesn’t mean to eavesdrop but you’re all loud so you must not care.”

“Thanks, mouse,” Cassian said, “Thanks, Gwyn!”

“Mhmm,” was Gwyn’s hum of a reply. Az could hear her soprano in the sound. “If you all want to get changed and then decorate a little more before dinner, go for it. You must be miserable in those damp clothes, I forgot you had extras here, Cassian. But—”

“We won’t touch the breakables,” Rhys said, lifting his voice.

“You and Az can,” Gwyn said. She appeared at the railing behind Seryn, her arms on either side of her daughter, her hair escaping its ponytail. “Just you two though.”

“Seriously?” Cassian complained, “I’m texting Nesta to tell on you.”

“Because Nesta is certainly going to side with you over Gwyn on this,” Rhys said. He was looking at Seryn again as Gwyn whispered to her and tickled her side, the girl’s hands lifted to smother her giggles. For a second, his violet gaze flicked to Azriel and then he shook his head. “Nesta’s loyal.”

Did Rhys expect him to argue? Nesta was fiercely loyal to the people she befriended. He would know, he considered her a close friend as well as practically a sister-in-law. Azriel’s hand darted up and caught the garland that Cassian flung at him.

“Keep going,” Cass said, “If this is my only job, I’m going to be great at it. Don’t hold me back.”

“As if I would,” Azriel said.

Chapter Text

Gwyn pulled her feet up onto the loveseat and threw the blanket over her and Seryn’s legs. Ser pressed her feet against Gwyn’s leg for a moment as she got comfortable and Gwyn squeezed her toes. It was late. Most of the inside decorations were up, and everyone had enjoyed the beef stew Gwyn had made for supper. It had hit the spot on such a cold night. Plus, since it was a stew, there had been plenty to go around; there hadn’t been any leftovers.

By the fire, Rhys was in the wingback chair again, strumming one of Gwyn’s acoustic guitars. Both he and Azriel were wearing pieces of Cass’ left-behind clothes, though Az had dried his black t-shirt off and put that back on. Gwyn would offer them the use of the laundry room later. Her and Seryn’s rooms were on the fourth floor, in the wide and spacious attic, so the guys would have free reign over the rest of the house once she and Seryn went to bed.

Cass sat in front of the fire, texting on and off. He lifted his phone and pointed it at Gwyn and Seryn. “For Nesta and Rhodes. Rhodes says hi, Seryn.”

“I say hi Rhodes back.” Seryn smiled and then stuck out her tongue. Gwyn lifted her hand in a goofy peace sign.

On the couch, Azriel was thumbing through the guest book with an intent stare. Gwyn couldn’t tell if he was enjoying the cute messages or considering if any of the guests were a threat. Though that shouldn’t matter to him, unless he was being protective in a sort-of friend way.

In her lap, her own phone buzzed and then buzzed again. The group chat she had with Nesta and Emerie was, um, very active.

Emerie: I have to ask one more time, are you sure you don’t want me to come over? I can borrow a tractor from the farm supply.

Nesta: Are they being overly obnoxious? Send them to bed early if they are.

Emerie: How’s Seryn?

Emerie: Really Gwyn I can come over, just let me know

Gwyn drew her lips in-between her teeth, warmth filling her at her friends’ concern and care.

Gwyn: As much as I would love to see their faces if you pulled up on a tractor, Em, I don’t think it’s a good idea. The snow still hasn’t let up that much. They’re not being awful, Nesta. And Seryn’s fine, she’s actually having a great time.

Nesta: And you?

Gwyn: 🫠 I am so good right now. This is so much fun. 🥳

Emerie: I’m getting the tractor

Nesta: Emerie no

Gwyn: EMERIE

Gwyn: I love you I don’t want you to FREEZE TO DEATH

Gwyn:

Emerie: Okay but you better text or call if you change your mind

Nesta: I wish I was there, too, Emerie.

Emerie: We’re with you in spirit, Gwyn.

Gwyn: Thanks!! It’s going to be fine!

That’s what she sent, but she felt differently. Having Azriel here presented her with a choice, one she thought she had already made. Tell him or don’t tell him. She had always planned to eventually let him know, but she had set that timeline for when Seryn turned ten. That was five years away. But Azriel was here now…

Seryn flipped a page of the picture book in her lap. She had the whole story memorized by this point and if Gwyn had asked her, she could’ve retold it herself. This one was about a horse and unicorn and friendship.

“People come from all over to stay here,” Az said, still holding onto the guest book.

“We had people stay from South Korea last year, I want them to come back,” Seryn said. She flipped another page.  

“And some people come yearly,” Azriel said.

Gwyn leaned back against the loveseat cushions. “Yes, and…?”

Azriel didn’t add anything, instead turning his attention back to the book.

“I think data collection makes him feel more in control,” Rhys said.

“Yeah, because he’s actually a robot we found one day,” Cass teased in a conspiratorial whisper to Seryn. “Collecting information is like his prime directive or first rule or something.”

Seryn tilted her head. “Prime directive?”

“I think he means driving force,” Rhys said. His expression remained neutral as he ganged up on Azriel with Cassian.

“He has to do it or his head will pop off his shoulders,” Cass said, earning himself a cool glare from Azriel.

“Cassian,” Azriel said with quiet warning.

Gwyn pursed her lips. Seryn was very smart and not likely to fall for this sort of thing, but she was five and she didn’t exactly need to be worried about Az’s apparently android head detaching. Scooting out from under the blanket, Seryn slid off the couch and wandered over to a nearby bookshelf. She kneeled in front of it, inspecting the titles, while Rhys played a light melody in the background. Pulling a large book off the shelf, Seryn wrapped her arms around it and carried it over to the couch where she presented it to Azriel.

His quick grin caught Gwyn by surprise as he took the book. “This will work.”

“What is it?” Cass asked, craning around to look as Seryn went back over to the loveseat.

Az lifted it, showing off a glossy kids’ encyclopedia. “Information.”

“No exploding,” Seryn said, opening her book again, a hint of a smug smile on her face.

Chuckling, Cassian leaned back against the hearth, resting his elbows against the bricks. “Fine, you win. This time.”

Gwyn patted Seryn’s leg as Ser yawned. Soon she would have to put the five-year-old to bed, which would be a good excuse to go upstairs to their little apartment and avoid any difficult conversations. Yes, she was ducking away from an incredibly difficult conversation, but it was one she hadn’t prepared for. She needed more time.

“Weren’t you going to sing?” Cass said. He pushed the side of Rhys’ chair with his foot.

“Right, so you don’t cry,” Seryn said. Gwyn couldn’t tell if she was faking innocence or if it was real.

“I can’t decide what to play,” Rhys said. “Any ideas, Gwyn?"

She doubted that was really this case. Gwyn didn’t know Rhys too well, but she did know he was decisive. She guessed he was trying to draw her into the conversation again. “Play one of your set songs.”

Cass drummed his hands on the floor. “Go for Night Triumphant,” he suggested, “I can get some spoons for drumsticks—”

Rhys plucked a string. “I thought we were getting in the Christmas mood?”

“We’re just decorating,” Seryn said. She dropped her book into her lap and sat up straighter. “Oh, but, but, can you play the Fox song?”

“I’m not sure I know that one.”

“Do you mean…” Gwyn hummed the first few notes of a Fleet Foxes song that Seryn enjoyed. Her daughter nodded. “White Winter Hymnal.”

Rhys was already playing, having figured it out from her humming. “This one?”

“Yes,” Seryn said, bobbing her head gently side to side like a metronome. “It’s round.”

“A round,” Gwyn said.

“Mmm, so we can all jump in,” Rhys said, fingers steadily moving over the strings. “You, too, Az.”

“I’m gathering information so I can stay in one piece,” Azriel said absently, but Gwyn felt like someone was looking at her and it wasn’t Cassian or Rhysand.

“No, we’re all singing,” Rhys said cheerfully. "Seryn, you can start.”

Seryn perked up, fully closing her book. She focused as Rhys played the beginning of the indie folk song and started in when he nodded at her as a cue. Her sweet song rang out with confidence. “I was following the, I was following the…” Her voice was a shimmering brook running through the living room, untamed and pretty.

Rhys smiled and joined her, tenor tones mixing well and harmonizing, right before Cass jumped in with his deep rough baritone. He didn’t sing all that often in their band, but Gwyn knew people loved it when he did since his voice added an unpolished edge.

Someone was still looking at her. Gwyn twisted to meet Azriel’s gaze. He wasn’t reading. He was waiting.

Gwyn lent a new range to the song, adding her voice to the round. She arched an eyebrow in challenge at Azriel as she sang.

 He was the last as they all dove into the main lyrics, his deeper smooth notes twining around her own bright ones, a braid of harmony. “I was following the pack…” Gwyn ignored the way her skin prickled.

Rhys dropped out suddenly at the second repeated verse, and Cass followed suit out of habit, leaving only the other three singing. Instead, Rhys focused on the guitar while Cassian beat out a rhythm on the wooden floor.

Seryn looked at Azriel then blinked at Gwyn. It had been a long time since Gwyn had sung a duet with anyone besides Seryn, and she knew it. But in Gwyn’s opinion, this didn’t count. It was a late night snowstorm fluke and Seryn was also singing. However, she had to admit deep down that it felt right, especially with Seryn’s voice threading through theirs. It was a natural harmony, like something you would hear at midnight while moonlight lit a forest or by a river deep in a mountain valley. It was...it made her heart stir.

It still didn’t mean she was going to tell him about Seryn right now. She still needed time to think…

Chapter Text

The snow was at least two and half feet deep outside. An overcast sky still hung over the bed and breakfast but there wasn’t any snow left in the forecast. Perhaps it would stay that way. They might be able to begin digging the rental out if it warmed up at all.

Azriel slid the coffee pot onto the warmer and flicked the button to get it percolating. The kitchen was chilly, and he was half tempted to lift his hood but left it down. Gwyn had said she would handle breakfast, but she had already done plenty for them by letting them stay. Azriel still didn’t feel like decorating was enough to make it up to her. He wasn’t an expert chef or anything, but he could do minor meals without scorching anything. Breakfast foods were easy enough.

He began to take stock of what was in the cabinets and the fridge. Maybe he shouldn’t, but he didn’t have another choice if he wanted to get ahead of Gwyn and make breakfast before she could. There was a loaf of homemade bread in a bread box on the counter that he could use for toast.

He heard little padded footsteps come down stairs and pause behind a door in the corner. It opened a crack. Azriel acted like he hadn’t noticed. After a minute, Seryn let herself into the kitchen, eyeing him with unexpected annoyance. From that look, he guessed that he had intruded on a sacred family space. He had noticed a door on the third floor that was locked with a Staff Only sign. That had to be a doorway to a set of stairs that only Gwyn and Seryn and whoever helped them used.

Seryn’s pajamas had cats and starbursts on them. White fake fur poked over the top of a pair of soft lavender slipper-boots.

“Guests aren’t supposed to be in here,” she said, confirming his suspicions about what faux pas he had committed. “There’s a sign.”

“I saw it, but I’m not officially a guest,” Azriel said. “I’m paying by decorating.” And by keeping Cassian from over-decorating.

“Oh yeah,” Seryn said. The grumpy frown mostly faded, replaced by sleepy curiosity. She shoved her thick black hair from her face. “What’re you doing?”

“Making breakfast for everyone.” Picking up a carton of eggs, he closed the fridge door. “How do you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled with cheese,” she said. She climbed up onto a stool at the kitchen counter. “Mom always makes breakfast. She lets me help sometimes.”

Azriel set the carton of eggs on the counter between them. “Did you want to help me? You don’t have to if you would rather do something else.”

Seryn set her elbows on the table and poked at the Styrofoam as she made her decision. “Mmm…yes. I’ll help.” She climbed back down off the stool and found the step stool. Picking it up, she carried it over to the sink and used it so she could reach the faucet. She picked up a hair tie from a holder on the window sill and pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail before she started washing her hands. Azriel grabbed the soap dispenser to move it closer, and she shot him a muted but still obviously offended look. It looked like she was warring between being polite and snapping at him. “I can do it myself.” She sighed as her manners caught up with her. “Thank. You.”

“My apologies,” he said, crushing his sudden urge to grin. That independent stubbornness was very Gwyn of her. He also was getting the idea that mornings weren’t her favorite time of the day, which made her fit in well with most of the people he knew and cared about.

Once her hands were washed, she nudged the step stool with a boot until it was at the counter. She was tiny, less than half his height, maybe three feet and an inch to his six foot four self. Were all five year olds that little? Rhodes was six and always lanky for his age while Nyx was eight already. It was harder for Az to remember how tall Nyx had been at that age.

She looked up at him and then patted the counter once. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Azriel regarded his sous-chef. “I’ll crack the eggs and you can mix them up?”

“With cheese,” she reminded him.

“Sure.”

Remembering where he had seen the bowls and whisk and cheese, he went back and retrieved the rest of what she needed. After washing his hands, Azriel got to work. Seryn mixed the eggs and whisked in a healthy (more than healthy) amount of shredded cheddar cheese.

“Isn’t it more cheese than eggs?”

“You’ll like it,” she said simply.

“We’ll see,” Azriel said, getting an eye roll out of her. He did grin this time though he hid it by looking at the door.

Seryn was a lot like Gwyn, but every now and then, she seemed... Azriel couldn’t name what it was, but she was very familiar in the strangest way. It was like he already knew her. Something about the way she talked? He felt like he could read her expressions and knew what she was thinking even though they were strangers. Whatever it was, she was a kind, quick-witted kid. He could see how she would get along with stoic Rhodes and he thought that she and Nyx would find plenty of mischief to get up to if they ever met. Gwyn was a lucky mom. And she made a great one from what he had seen and some of the comments in the guest book. It was very clear that she adored Seryn and that Seryn felt the same way about her. They approached the world as a tightknit unit.

As Azriel moved on to making toast, he let Seryn butter the slices after he cut them. She was methodical, getting the butter to the edge.

“This must be the breakfast part of the business.”

Both Azriel and Seryn turned to see Rhys in the open doorway, looking refreshed and already dressed for the day in jeans and a dark grey longsleeve. For a split second, it looked like Rhys took in a sharp breath at the sight of them before he smiled. “Eggs and toast?”

“There’s bacon in the fridge, if you wanna make it,” Seryn said, not at all opposed to putting others to work now that she had accepted them into the kitchen.

“Yes, ma’am.” Rhys nodded and started for the fridge. As he passed the counter, he paused. He leaned against the counter and poked Seryn’s butter dish to get her attention.

“Good mornin,’” she said, flicking those teal eyes at him in mild displeasure at how he had messed with the butter.

Rhys smiled at her warmly. “I know I said this yesterday, Seryn Catrin Berdara, but I really am very glad I’m getting to meet you.”

“Oh-kay,” she said. She dipped her knife into the butter again.

Azriel could almost swear that Rhys looked…emotional. He stared at his brother. Rhys gave him a long searching look, incredulous. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it, but your robot brain isn’t assessing information properly, Azriel. Maybe it’s trying to protect you.” He continued on his way to the refrigerator and opened it to look for the bacon. His head was all the way in the fridge when he spoke again. “I’ll give you a little more time. I’m sure you’ll catch on by yourself.”

Azriel frowned. His brain was working just fine. Rhys, on the other hand. “Maybe you hit your head on the steering wheel. Do you have a concussion?”

“You’re the one who isn’t—” Rhys pulled the bacon out of the fridge. “I’ll give you one hint. Ask Cass about when he and Nesta are planning to visit here next.”

“March!” Seryn said, losing her fussy not-a-morning-person edge for a moment. “They always stay in March.”

Azriel had no idea what that meant. And when he didn’t figure out exactly what it was Rhys was trying to force into his head, his brother growled. “It’s not that hard, Az.”

“I think we’re done?” Seryn asked, tapping Az’s hand and pointing at the tray of bread. She wasn’t bothered by his scars in the slightest.

He nodded and picked up the tray even as Rhys gave him increasingly exasperated glares. All right, Rhys, be weird.

Chapter Text

Gwyn flew down the back stairs, not caring if she woke up anyone else. Seryn wasn’t in her bed, and her daughter was not an early riser. Gwyn had called her name throughout the attic without any answer. She wasn’t in their small den, not in the bathroom, not in the reading nook. The thought of Seryn heading outside to play in the snow or check on her bird feeders and getting lost in the powder slammed into Gwyn’s mind, and that’s when she had taken off down the stairs.

She burst into the kitchen, heading for the door that led from the kitchen to the backyard.

“Gwyn?”

“Mom!”

Gwyn froze, hand on the doorknob. She looked over her shoulder. Relief and shock made her let go of the door.

Seryn was behind the counter, her face covered in what looked like smudges of white flour. Azriel was next to her, also flour smudged, a mixing bowl in front of him, hazel eyes questioning. There were chocolate chips scattered across the countertop.

“Everything okay?” Azriel asked, his eyebrows knitting together. He was acting like being in her kitchen covered in flour was a normal everyday occurrence.

Gwyn opened her mouth, shut it, then spoke. “Yes.”

Seryn shook her head. “You can’t go outside, you need a coat. It’s cold.”

“Morning, Gwyn,” Cassian said, gesturing at her with his coffee mug. He was at the stove, hip resting against the lower set of cabinets as he stirred eggs in a frying pan. He had one of the kitchen aprons, the one with blue polka dots, hanging around his neck. The kitchen smelled wonderful except for a hint of burnt toast.

“Did you need something from outside?” Rhys asked. He was sitting at the counter, texting and eating the escaped chocolate chips. Seryn tried to bat his hand with hers but he moved too quick as he grabbed another one. It must have been something of a game they were all playing because Azriel sneaked the next one, also narrowly avoiding a bap from Seryn. Ser tried not to giggle as Az popped the chocolate chip into his mouth.

“No, I thought Seryn…Nevermind.” Gwyn wrapped her arms around herself. She stared at her daughter. “You’re up early, Ser.”

Seryn threw a handful of chocolate chips from a bag into what Gwyn had figured out was pancake batter. There had been a box of it stuffed away in one of the cabinets. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“You could’ve woken me up,” she said. The chill off the glass cutout in kitchen door window was starting to weave around her shoulders. She stepped forward, away from the door.

“You were sleeping,” Seryn said, as if that was a logical reason to not wake her up.

“Not too many,” Azriel said to her as she started to throw in another handful of chocolate.

Seryn opened her hand.  “This isn’t too many, Az. Look.”

Azriel moved the bowl out of her reach. “It’s turning into chocolate batter.”

Seryn halfway climbed up onto the counter. “Yep, and that’s good, very good.”

With a swift practiced movement, Az looped one arm around her and carefully pulled her down, setting her feet on the floor. He had nephews, Gwyn reminded herself, he knew how to handle kids. Seryn fussed and got back up on her step stool.

They were making breakfast. Gwyn gripped her elbows tighter, almost tempted to pinch herself. What was her life right now? This was surreal. And adorable. Why was it so cute, their matching floury faces and how gentle he was with her?

Why did her heart have to ache so much at the sight?

Azriel moved away from the bowl and took off his hoodie. Just as Seryn dumped her slightly melted handful of chocolate chips into the mix behind his back (Cass was nodding at her to do it), he stepped in front of Gwyn, holding out the hoodie. “You’re shivering.”

“Oh…” Yes, she was. In her haste to rescue her daughter from imagined hypothermia, she hadn’t changed out of pajamas. Her loose old t-shirt hung from one shoulder and she had on a pair of blue threadbare sleeping shorts. While the outfit had been cozy under her mountain of blankets, it wasn’t exactly winter weather attire.

Az pushed the hoodie into her hands. “Don’t freeze, Berdara. I heard there was a threat of human popsicles.”

“Boy band popsicles,” she said, gingerly taking the hoodie. “There’s a difference.” She pulled it on over her head. While she wasn’t a short woman, Azriel was much taller and his hoodie was huge on her. It was still warm. His hoodie held the scent of cedar and mist and, there it was, burnt toast. “Did you burn my homemade bread?”

“I told you!” Cassian said, “I told him you’d know.”

“I didn’t burn it that much,” Azriel said. The very tips of his ears turned red.

“Still. You burned it,” Rhys said. He smiled at something on his phone and then set it on the counter. Gwyn wondered if he was texting Feyre.

Azriel grabbed the bowl of batter. “At least I’m not trying to give everyone a sugar rush.”

Seryn wrapped both hands around the bag, which she had been about to completely empty into the bowl. “It’s like coffee! It’s my coffee, you get coffee, I get chocolate. It’s fair.” She hopped off the step stool and ran away with the chocolate chip bag, hiding behind Cass who dutifully provided cover.

Gwyn walked up beside Azriel and peered into the bowl. “That’s way too many chocolate chips. How many cavities were you trying to get, moonbeam?” Even as she lightly scolded, she snuck a chocolate chip from the ones still on the table. Az smirked at her and grabbed another one for himself.

“Only a couple,” Seryn said, peeking out from behind Cass. When Gwyn looked over at her, she hid again. “None!”

“It’s too late to fish them out,” Azriel said. He didn’t look very sorry about that.

“Az has a sweet tooth, too, Seryn,” Rhys said, “That’s why he let you pour that many in there in the first place.”

“It’s bestest like that,” Seryn said, still hiding behind Cassian.

Turning around, Cass picked her up and set her on the counter. “There. I’ll protect you from your mother’s wrath if you help me not burn these cheese eggs.”

“Deal,” Seryn said.

“Hey,” Gwyn said, getting out the utensils they would need to cook the pancakes. “No deal.”

“Sorry, bargains can’t be broken that easily,” Cass said. He nudged Seryn’s arm. “How much cheese did you put in here, anyways?”

She shrugged. “Enough.”

Behind Gwyn, Az snorted. Gwyn was going to guess that she would need to buy more cheese when she could make it to the store.

“Gwyn, is there anything in particular you would like us to do today?” Rhys said, “I think we’re going to have to infringe upon your weekend a little longer.”

“Oh yeah, we’re definitely stuck,” Cass said, looking out the window over the sink. “Maybe for, what, two more days? Three at most.”

Gwyn stepped over beside him and also looked out the window. It was a dismal winter landscape out there, snow for miles through the woods and up the drive. “I think so. It’s an awful lot of snow for this time of year.”

“It feels like a snowstorm of providence,” Rhys said lightly, “I’m grateful for it.”

A warning bell went off in Gwyn’s mind. She gripped the spatula she had picked up tighter. Would it stop whatever was about to happen if she hurled it at his forehead?

“Rhysand. Are you okay?” Cass said, wide-eyed.

“He’s been odd all morning,” Az said.

Seryn tapped a heel against the cabinet. “I think he’s still sleepy.”

“We missed a show because of the snow,” Cass said, "You hate that."

“And we’re ruining Gwyn and Seryn’s weekend,” Azriel said quietly. Gwyn started to tell him that wasn’t true but Rhys didn’t give her the chance.

“This is worth missing a show,” Rhys said, “And hopefully they don’t mind the intrusion too much. At least we got to meet Seryn, or Az and I did, and we get to catch up with Gwyn. Chat about things.”

The bell rang louder. Rhys was looking at Gwyn, his expression warm and intense. Slowly, meaningfully, while Az turned to talk to Cass about Rhys’ potential concussion, Rhysand looked from her to Azriel and finally to Seryn, who he offered a fond, familial smile.

His gaze met Gwyn’s again. He lifted one eyebrow.

Rhys knew.

The blood drained out of Gwyn’s face and Rhys quickly stood up. “Gwyn—”

A strong hand wrapped around her arm, holding her steady when she felt like she needed something to lean against. Azriel’s worried hazel eyes searched her face. “What is it?”

He knew, Rhys knew, but he hadn’t told Azriel— Her mind spun but she took a deep breath.

“Gwyn?” Cass asked, his frown serious.

“What’s wrong?” Seryn jumped down from the counter and raced over to grab her other hand.

Gwyn smoothed Seryn’s hair back, using the motion to comfort herself as well. “I’m fine, really,” Gwyn said. She gave Seryn a one-arm hug and rubbed her shoulder. She glanced up at Az. “All that running around must have caught up to me. I’m all right.”

Az didn’t believe her but he didn’t argue this time. Instead, he nodded to the stools on the other side of the counter. “I’ll make the pancakes.”

“And not burn them because I’ll watch,” Seryn said firmly.

Gwyn looked down at where Azriel was still holding her arm. “I can stand on my own, thanks.” She wasn't going to faint or anything, Rhys had just caught her off-guard and she had gone numb. Her fighting spirit sparked.

Az let go and rubbed the back of his neck. “Berdara women are very self-reliant.”

What had Seryn done to get that comment out of him? Gwyn nodded and rounded the counter. Sitting down beside Rhys, she watched the rest of them cook, not wanting to look at Rhys. Her thoughts were racing.

Was he planning to tell Az? When? Why hadn’t he already? She knew he wouldn’t tell Seryn without her permission, that’s just how Rhys was, but… How had he even figured it out? How had he put it together so fast? They hadn't even been at the house for a full day!

“We can talk later,” Rhys said soft enough that only she could hear over the clacking of kitchen supplies. “I won’t tell him.” It was as if he had read her mind.

She didn’t say thank you. She didn’t know what to say but thank you didn't feel right.

Rhys got up from the table, clapping his hands together once. “Put me to work!”

"Can you get out the orange juice?" Seryn asked, and Rhys went to do what his niece asked of him.

A coffee mug appeared in front of her and Cass loomed over her, not imposing but solid, protective. “You’re really okay?”

“Yes,” she said, “It’s just been…” She trailed off, still at a loss for words. For being such an avid reader and collector of words, they seemed to be escaping her today.

Cass nodded and gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. “The storm was rough. I’ll help you check everything today, make sure it’s working and nothing’s frozen or broken or leaking.”

“Thank you, Cassian.”

He smiled. “Nah, thank you for letting us stay. Sorry to upend your weekend.”

Oh, he had absolutely no idea exactly how upended it was. She patted his hand. “No worries, big guy.”

Because all of the worries were hers.

Chapter Text

“You’re kidding. You guys walked all the way from Everly Road?”

 Cassian riffled through Gwyn’s array of shovels. There were at least three intended for snow. “Yeah, Rhys thought that was a good place to crash.”

“I think he would call it sliding,” Azriel said.

Cass picked out the three snow shovels. “Whatever he wants to call it, the SUV is in a ditch. Car in ditch equals crash.”

“Geez.” Gwyn rubbed her hands together, her gloves rustling. “You’re lucky you didn’t really get hypothermia. You and your stylish flimsy jackets and hoodies.”

“They were perfectly fine before the blizzard,” Azriel said. And they weren’t that stylish… Except Rhys’. Rhys’ jacket was ridiculously expensive, he had seen the price tag. Azriel’s hoodie was seven years old.

Gwyn’s eyes narrowed at him. “But you walked through the blizzard.”

“It was either that or freeze in the rental,” Cass said with a crooked grin. “Your house is a lot nicer option than certain death.”

“Well when you put it that way, I guess I’m very flattered,” Gwyn said.

Azriel, Cass, and Gwyn were out in the barn where Gwyn kept the supplies for melting and clearing snow. Rhys had stayed inside to wash up from breakfast with Seryn’s help. Gwyn had salt for the porches and stairs, scrappers for windows, shovels for the walkways. No one could call her unprepared; she had already had one shovel by the door, but having more than one meant they could get the job done faster. These were older ones, by the look of them. None of them had delusions of shoveling all the way back to the rental or anything of the sort, but they could make the paths around the house and clean off the porch.

There were still outside decorations to put up, after all, and Azriel didn’t think the inside was entirely finished. He had spotted a few tubs of decorations still unpacked after breakfast.

“I can go ahead and call Ethan if you want,” Gwyn said. She was poking around in the corners, looking for something that didn’t seem to be there. “He’s the tow guy around here.” She was on first-name basis with the towing truck guy?

“The roads are still covered,” Cassian asked, “Tow Guy shouldn’t crash in a ditch too.”

“They’ll start scraping today, and at least then he knows. It’ll take a while for them to get this far out of town with Slushbert anyways,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “Where…”

“What’re you looking for?” Azriel asked even as Cass talked over him, “Who’s Slushbert?”

“Slushbert the Third, actually,” Gwyn said. She pulled a wheelbarrow out of a different corner. “He’s one of the snowplows. Wendy Stewart likes him best, and she’s the one that usually plows the country roads."

Azriel put a hand on the wheelbarrow as she continued her search.

Cass set the shovels beside the wall and, again, talked over Azriel who was trying to ask again if Gwyn wanted help. “What’re the other snowplows’ names?”

“There’s Snowgan the Wolverine, Nice Ice Baby, and Snowy McSnowSlayer. The high school voted on the last one.” Gwyn moved out of the third corner and stepped out of the stall, back into the main part of barn. The barn had four roomy stalls and a tack room. The tack room held things Gwyn and Seryn would need on a more regular basis, like tools, rakes, and gardening supplies. A lawnmower sat in the middle of the barn, ready for spring but currently dormant, and behind it was an ATV, a squat little four-wheeler.

One of the other stalls was another storage area while the last one was empty, like it was waiting for a livelier occupant than wheelbarrows or spare siding. He could imagine Seryn would like if there was a pony tucked in there, but running a bed and breakfast probably didn’t leave a lot of time for the work a pony would require.

Azriel followed Gwyn. “I could help look.”

Gwyn glanced back at him over her shoulder, her jaw brushing against her light blue scarf. “I’ve got it.”

So stubborn sometimes. Azriel decided to extrapolate what she could be looking for without asking again. Most likely whatever it was had to be snow-related. And small enough to go missing, though it was a barn. Plus there was more than one. Skis? Snowboards? Snowshoes…

“How much salt do you want, Gwyn?” Cass asked from the stall.

“Let’s start with one bucket,” she replied, heading for a wooden ladder that was bolted to the wall. It led up into a hay loft. Gwyn pulled off her gloves and put them in her pocket.

The smell of hay and dirt and wood clung to the barn, earthy and heavy and somehow comforting. If the weekend had gone the way it was supposed to, he would probably be in a hotel room right now, watching Youtube videos or prepping for the show. Azriel moved toward the ladder.

“Two buckets,” Cass argued, “We can get the walkways defrosted and make sure the porches and steps are clear.”

“Okay, but don’t overdo it.” Gwyn started climbing the ladder. It was sturdy, but Azriel still set his foot on the bottom rung once she was halfway up. Putting her hand on a board, she hauled herself up into the loft. Dust and old hay sifted through a crack and drifted into the stall underneath.

While she hunted around in the loft, Azriel looked around in the main part of the barn. Whatever it was would be light enough for her to carry it up a ladder.

“I’m going to go start working on the steps,” Cassian said. He carried two mostly full white buckets of salt out of the stall.

“Thanks, Cass,” Gwyn said, peeking through a slot in the boards.

He started toward the barn door, laughter dropping behind him. “How long are you going to play this hide and seek thing you’re doing?”

“Not too much longer,” Gwyn said, retreating from the boards. “They’re here somewhere. I'll find them.”

Azriel scoffed. Not if he found whatever it was first.

Cass left, muttering something under his breath about how everyone was being weird this morning besides him and Seryn.

There was a part of the barn near the back that didn’t have a stall. It was almost like a doorless closet. Old farm supplies was tucked away in there, rusted hoes and pitchforks, a rake missing most of its tines. And toward the back, a wooden sled propped up against the wall. Ah, yes, that had to be it.

Something caught his attention, a swatch of light blue falling into the middle of the barn. Az hurtled back out into the middle, his breath catching in his throat, but it wasn’t Gwyn falling. Instead, he saw a light blue plastic disc sled thunk down onto ATV and then flip onto the floor. Azriel had to step back before a second sled, this one long and red and rectangular, hit the floor beside him.

“Were you aiming for me?” he asked, mostly relieved as well as a little embarrassed that he had thought the sled was Gwyn’s scarf for a second.

“What?” She grabbed a board and sat on the edge of the loft, feet dangling next to the ladder. “I wasn’t even looking.”

“Clearly,” he said, nudging the sled with his boot.

“Somehow I think you would have survived getting hit with plastic.” She slung herself onto the ladder and climbed back down out of the loft. He should have gone back to get the other sled to prove that he had also basically found what she was looking for, but he watched her the whole way down and found himself wandering in that direction. She wouldn’t fall, she was surefooted the whole way down, but he couldn’t get the image of it out of his head now that he had imagined it.

Once her feet were back on the floor, he leaned against the ladder. Yes, it was very sturdy. “I found the wooden sled.”

“Where?” she asked, brushing past him, almost touching but not quite.

“In the back, with all the rusted things,” he said, “You have your tetanus shot, right?”

“No, obviously I like flirting with the idea of lockjaw.” Gwyn made a face at him as she picked up the red sled. “I meant to fix the sled this summer, the runners need to be tightened.”

“I can do that,” he said, “And don’t worry, I also had my shots.”

Gwyn grabbed the other sled. “We can just use these two.” She knocked them together once and dust flew off the plastic. She put the first back down and knocked the disc one a couple times against the seat of the ATV, getting the dust off. “And I wasn’t worried.”

Azriel shrugged. “Seryn might want to use the other sled, and it has a rope. We could pull her around.”

Gwyn’s smile wavered. “Good point.”

Azriel started toward the back, thinking also of where he had seen the tools in the tack room. Gwyn’s hand caught on the crook of his arm, stopping him short, the plastic sled abandoned across the ATV’s handle bars.

“Azriel.” Her fingers had turned paler without her gloves on and the freckles visibly stood out. He waited, watching her as she looked back at him. The look in her eyes was the same one she wore when searching for the sleds, like she was hunting for something that might not be where she had left it. His heart clenched. Whatever it was, he wanted her to find it. She let go, but he gently caught her by the elbow.

“I texted,” he said, “Back then. And I called.” He didn’t call people, he hated talking on the phone, but he wanted to talk to her. He still did. “I know we said no strings but look, if I did or said something to drive you away—”

Her eyes were huge. “Azriel, that’s not it—”

The barn door cracked open wider and Cass stomped back in, not noticing as they stepped away from each other. He lifted a pair of empty buckets. “I might have gone overboard, but the steps look like summertime.” He beamed as the sight of the sleds. “Hell yes, I call the red one.”

Azriel turned toward Gwyn, but she was already picking up the sleds and moving toward the barn doors. Damn it. Sighing, he decided to go get the wooden sled anyways. He could find the tools he needed and maybe some wax for the sled runners. Fixing it might help distract him from the heat running through him.

Chapter Text

Gwyn let some of her frustration out by screaming as she went zooming down the hill stomach down on the wooden sled while Seryn laid on top of her back, clinging to her shoulders. Their shrieks blended together. The new wax on the tightened runners made the sled insanely fast. The guys were a blur on the side of the hill as Gwyn and Seryn soared past.

Pulling on handlebars, Gwyn made the sled glide to one side and then the other, slowing it down as they got closer to the riverside. Eventually, they ran out of packed snow and into a drift of powder. That stopped them. Gwyn huffed and wiped at the snow that got in her face.

On her back, Seryn giggled. She rolled off into the bank, disappearing as snow fell on top of her. Gwyn brushed the snow off of her daughter, though flakes clung to her midnight hair.

“Again, let’s do it again!” Seryn said, scrambling to her feet.

“I think I got snow in my coat,” Gwyn said. She got up and jumped a bit, making the ice melt and slide down her back. Dancing around, she shook her shoulders.

Beside her, Seryn tugged at the sled, pulling it out of the snow drift. “I can pull it, let’s go!” She struggled to turn the sled around and pick up the rope. Taking Gwyn’s hand, she tried to tug the sled and Gwyn back toward the hill.

“Can I have some of your energy?” Gwyn teased, letting her lead.

“I need it,” Seryn said in her matter-of-fact tone.

“Mean,” Gwyn sighed even as she smiled.

They were out beyond the house, off near the river at the edge of the woods. It was the closest decent sledding hill to the house; there was a better one closer to town that most people used, but it would be too long of a trek to get there with the snow so thick. It was late afternoon and the sun was trying to peak out from behind the cloud cover before it set. Intermittent golden light made the snow glitter and cast the river water in shimmering streaks.

Using the other two sleds, they had all slid down enough times to pack down the snow, making it easier for the wooden sled to be used on the hill. The wooden sled quickly became the favorite, though it was funny to see the men using the light blue disc sled. It was like they were using Captain America’s shield as a sled.

Cassian met them, swiping up Seryn and tossing her once into the air like she was a toddler instead of a five-year-old. Again, how did he maintain those arm muscles? She laughed again as he caught her and then she hugged him around the neck.

“Wild child,” he said before setting her on the sled. He took the rope and smiled at Gwyn. “Do you want to ride, too?”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll walk,” she said, giving his arm a pat.

“Rhodes is going to be very jealous, Ser,” Cassian said as they all started walking again. “It’s not snowing back home.”

“You could bring him during December,” Seryn said. She laid down on the sled, holding onto the handlebars, as Cassian pulled her behind him. “We could go sledding and ice skating and everything.”

“Hmm, we might could do that,” he said, “But we’d still visit in March.”

“Yeah,” Seryn said, “You have to.”

“What do you want for your birthday, anyway, Ser?” Cass asked. They were almost to Azriel and Rhys, who looked like they were arguing over the merits of the different sleds.

“A kitten,” she said, a hopeful lilt in that simple request. “A fluffy one with green eyes.”

Gwyn smiled. She was already planning on acquiescing to that birthday request. However, they were getting a little too close to Azriel to continue this conversation. She had been about to tell him in the barn, but Cass’ interruption had stopped her and now wasn’t the right time. The uncertainty had crept back in, and there was also the issue of Rhysand and the fact Cassian didn’t know. She knew it would hurt him, too, when he found out, since she and Nesta and Emerie had been keeping it from him for over five years.

“I thought you wanted a pony,” Cassian said.

“That was when I was a baby,” she said, lifting her chin.

Cass’ laugh boomed. “That was last year!”

“Well,” Seryn said, frowning, “Well, I changed my mind. I want a kitten.”

“We might have had a discussion about how much work a pony would be and how maybe we should wait until she’s older to think about a horse,” Gwyn said.

“I could see you with a kitten,” Cassian said, nodding, “Rhodes wants a puppy.”

“We could get him a puppy,” Seryn said excitedly. “Mom, the shelter always has puppies!”

“Hold on, I didn’t say we were getting one,” Cassian said, “Your aunt isn’t on board with the idea yet.”

“But Rhodes would love a puppy,” Seryn said, “And his puppy and my kitten could play and be best friends.”

They had reached Rhys and Azriel, and Gwyn wanted to change the subject but it was too late.

“What is all this about puppies and kittens?” Rhys asked, crossing his arms and looking down at Seryn as Cassian reached a hand down to her. She wrapped her hands around one of his and he pulled her up and off the sled.

“Birthdays,” she said, reaching for the rope. “I might get a kitten.”

“You’ll be six, right?” Rhys asked. “What do you want besides a kitten?”

Gwyn stayed very still. Rhys had said he wouldn’t tell Azriel. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t help him figure it out. The snow that had melted along her spine seemed to refreeze.

“Mhmm,” Seryn said, “I like Squishmallows.” Her smile turned almost shy. “Did you want to come to our party? You don’t have to bring nothing.”

“Of course I would bring something,” Rhys said, hand to his chest. “Maybe I’ll bring a Squishmallow. A huge one.”

Gwyn saw Azriel’s mouth twitch toward a smile. “Our party?” he asked Seryn. “Yours and…?”

“Me and Rhodes,” Seryn said. She finally freed the rope from Cassian’s hand, where he had been playfully holding it tight and making her pry his fingers off of it. “We have a party together. You can come, too, Az, if you want.”

Azriel nodded, something flickering in his eyes as he looked at her. “Your birthday is in March?”

“Yep,” Seryn said, starting to walk backwards up the hill, pulling the sled along.

Gwyn’s heart crawled into her throat. Rhodes’ birthday was in the middle of February while Seryn’s was in early March. They had a party at the beginning of March every year between the two birthdays to celebrate both kids. If you walked Seryn’s birthday back nine months, you reached June and a certain annual music festival. Gwyn reached for the rope. “Ser, do you want me to pull you up the hill?”

Seryn shook her head. “No, I want to pull the sled.”

“I’ll go with her,” Azriel said, turning toward Gwyn. There wasn’t an accusation there yet, but she could practically see the gears in his mind turning faster, speeding toward the secret she held so tight to her chest.

Gwyn nodded, and Seryn began trudging up the hill alongside Azriel. Cassian followed after them, carrying both of the other sleds. Gwyn was very aware of the fact that Rhys had stayed behind, arms crossed over his chest as he watched his brothers and his niece.

“I see both of you in her,” Rhys finally said, his tone kind. “And I’m terribly jealous of Cassian. I wish she knew to called me Uncle Rhys.” She turned to find him looking at her now, not judging but a bit of hurt lingering. “She’s excellent, Gwyn. Truly.”

Gwyn felt defensive and proud at the same time. “She’s the best part of my life,” she said quietly. “How did you know?”

“They stood next to each other and I figured it out,” he said, his tone a touch flippant. He shook his head and crossed his arms tighter. “No, I notice things. Like when one of my best friends is sneaking off during a music festival every night with the very nice redhead woman from the indie folk duo. Who just happens to be my other best friend’s wife’s best friend. Which also makes you the best friend of my wife's sister.”

And they thought they had been so secretive.

His laugh was wry. “It's a bit complicated. It was made more complicated when Cassian and Nesta went to visit you and your newborn daughter roughly nine months later, but I wasn’t completely certain.” Rhys shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “When you didn’t call Az back or say anything, I assumed she wasn’t his. Which he probably subconsciously also assumed. But…” His breath made a cloud of mist in the air. “She’s a miniature version of the two of you combined.”

“She’s so much like him,” Gwyn said. Rhys was right. Seeing them together made the connection undeniable.

“And you,” he said.

“Cassian doesn’t know about the music festival. Does he?”

“No,” Rhys said, “That was your and Azriel’s business, and he was preoccupied with Nesta and Rhodes.” Rhodes, who had been a year old. “Distraction was the only reason he didn’t notice, too. I don’t know how Nesta keeps it from him.”

Gwyn didn’t know either. Nesta had asked about telling him more than once and had suggested that she tell Azriel, but Gwyn always said no. “I…It’s already a burden for Nesta to not tell Azriel. I didn’t want Cassian to have to carry it too.”

Farther up the hill, Seryn stumbled and Azriel caught her around the waist, hauling her up. As Cassian took the rope, Azriel draped Seryn across his shoulders. Her laughter rolled down the hill.

“Gwyn…” Rhys’ tone was hesitant. “Were you worried about Azriel trying to take her away?”

“No,” Gwyn said quickly, “I know he wouldn’t do that.”

“Then why?”

There was a paragraph of ‘why’ seared into her memory. The reason was published online for everyone to see in Azriel’s own words. And maybe it wasn’t fair, but those words…

“I didn’t think he wanted kids,” Gwyn said, “And we were both very clear that we didn’t want a relationship.” Even though her heart had rebelled against that idea at the end of the week. Even though he did try to call. But the texts and calls came after she found out she was pregnant and after that paragraph. “I thought it was better this way.”

Realization sparked in Rhys’ gaze. “The interview.”

Gwyn nodded. The interview.

“That was five years ago,” Rhys said gently. “You should consider telling him. I’m not going to force you to, but…he should know.”

“I know.” She was just trying to figure out how.

Rhys held his hand up to shield his eyes. His smile was wistful. “You know, I would have spoiled her to pieces already if I had known. Feyre and I would’ve helped.”

Gwyn didn’t doubt it.

Chapter Text

Moonlight poured through the downstairs window, lighting the living room along with the candles and the firelight. It was late, creeping toward eleven, but Azriel felt awake. He was busy pulling at a snare of thoughts, the layers curled in on each other but slowly coming unraveled as he pushed aside whatever mental barrier was keeping him from the center of the knot.

They always stay in March.

It’s not that hard, Az.

Azriel, that’s not it—

On the couch opposite of him, Gwyn was on her tablet, sorting through booking information and upcoming reservations. Some would need to be postponed until later in the week, when the roads were less treacherous. She seemed convinced that this snow, as thick as it was, wouldn’t last very long. A lock of her hair had fallen into her face. It was a trial to not go over and tuck it back behind her ear.

Rhys had stepped outside on the front porch to FaceTime with Feyre and Nyx, the time difference making it easier for them to talk for a while. He had told them he would tell Feyre and Nyx hello for all of them, including Seryn, who was curious about Nyx. Rhys had promised that they would meet soon. He had been oddly adamant about it. Az added that to the snare, another line to undo.

Cassian was conked out in the loveseat under the bay window, and in the bay window, Seryn was curled up in a nest of blankets, pillows, and those squishy stuffed animals she liked. She had been watching a movie on Cassian’s phone, one that she and Rhodes both apparently enjoyed. Her cheek was nestled against her open hand.

As snug as she looked, the chill from the window had to be seeping in.

Azriel got up, shoving away from the couch and the tangle of thoughts. He grabbed another blanket off the back of the couch and headed over to Seryn. Throwing it over her, he made sure the majority of it was blocking her from the window.

Cassian shifted, not opening his eyes. “You should just take her upstairs for Gwyn.”

“He doesn’t need to do that,” Gwyn said, too fast.

“He’s got arms,” Cassian said. He buried his head in the arm of the loveseat and pulled a pillow over his head. “Make him use them.”

“I don’t mind,” Azriel said.

“See,” Cass mumbled.

“It’s far…” Gwyn said, setting her iPad in her lap.

“I’ll manage,” Azriel said, somewhat amused that she doubted he could carry the kid. He touched Seryn’s arm. “Come here, squirt. Bedtime.”

Yawning, Seryn sat up and rubbed at her face, looking around blearily. He held his arms open like he would have for Nyx or Rhodes, and she scooted over until she could loop her arms around his neck. Azriel nudged the end of the loveseat, getting a curse out of Cass, as he picked her up. She snuggled against him, tucking in close to his shoulder, half asleep. Her black hair brushed his cheek.

Black hair, teal eyes, golden-brown skin, freckles—

Holding her close, Azriel headed for the stairs, aware that Gwyn was following him. There were multiple flights to get to the attic.

“You really don’t have to,” Gwyn said softly.

When they reached the first landing, he turned and shifted, letting her go first. She moved in an almost wary way that made him internally flinch. Had he done something wrong? Her eyes landed on Seryn before she moved to the next flight of stairs. He kept rolling the tangle over, plucking the threads.

His own declaration: Berdara women are very self-reliant.

Exactly how self-reliant was Gwyn? Self-reliant enough to raise a daughter on her own with no help from the father. The father that he didn’t know anything about. That was never mentioned, not even by Cassian in passing, like that person was a nonentity.

Or a secret.

You’ll be six, right?

In March.

He burned backwards through the months, the timeline, his grip on the girl in his arms tightening ever so slightly. Her high cheekbones, the way she smirked, her little matter-of-fact tone, the side eye, the friendliness mixed with the beginnings of sarcasm—

A good blend of Gwyn and—

As they reached the attic, Azriel’s heart was racing. He was surprised it didn’t wake up Seryn. Seryn, who would be six in March, nine months after June. That one music festival that lived constantly in his mind was held in June.

She wriggled, knowing somehow they had reached the heart of her home. Lifting her head, her forehead bumped against his jaw and then she patted his face. “Thanks, Az.”

He couldn’t say anything. He could barely breathe. He forced a neutral expression as he reluctantly put her on her feet in front of the attic door. Gwyn had one hand on the door, the other outstretched toward…

Their daughter.

“Az?” Gwyn leaned against the door as Seryn took her hand. “Are you—”

With a curt nod, before he could say anything, he turned on his heel and went back down the stairs. He needed to go outside, the house was suddenly too small and warm, and he needed space and starlight and clear air.

Azriel powered down the back stairs and blasted out the kitchen door, a hand burying in his hair as he crunched into the half-shoveled snow.

Seryn was his daughter.

And Gywn hadn’t told him.

Why?

Chapter Text

At the small table in her and Seryn’s attic space, Gwyn sat with her head in her hands. Stars glinted in the window. Something about the look on Azriel’s face, the shock in his hazel eyes before he practically ran away, made her think that maybe he had figured it out on his own and was overwhelmed.

Or maybe she was misreading things. Maybe her own worry made her project onto others exactly what she was worried about. But the way he had stared at Seryn…

This was too complicated, and she guessed that was her fault. If she had told him all those years ago—but he hadn’t wanted kids. He had said as much.

A soft knock on the attic door made her lift her head, red hair falling in her face. Her pulse quickened. All right, Berdara, just come clean. Tell him everything, explain your reasonings, stand firm but hear out whatever he has to say.

But maybe he didn’t know.

Inside, she felt like she was buzzing as she walked slowly toward the door. She took a deep breath before opening it.

Cassian yawned and rested his head against the doorjamb. “Hey, Gwyn.”

She wasn’t sure if she was completely relieved or disappointed. Both? She offered him a wobbly smile. “Hey, big guy. Did you get lost?”

“Nope,” he said, stretching, “I just wanted to come check on you.”

Her heart twisted. Cassian was always kind to her and he cared about Seryn. Though she had spent five years avoiding Azriel, she also hadn’t told Cass or let Nesta tell him the truth about Seryn. If Rhys knew, then she had to tell him, too. Maybe telling him first would make it easier to tell Azriel, if Az hadn’t already put it together.

“What?” Cass asked, frowning down at her, concerned. “What’s that look about?”

She stepped back and gestured for him to come in. “We need to talk.”

“Oh boy, what’d I do this time?” he asked. Both of them were whispering, not wanting to wake up Seryn. He wandered over to the couch and picked up one of Seryn’s bigger squishmallows. Dropping onto the cushions, he held the toy like a pillow.

“Nothing,” Gwyn said, “It’s not you.” She paced in front of the couch, moving between the window and the coffee table then back again.

Silence fell between them, not tense but expectant. Gwyn was the one who broke it, not having the patience to wait any longer. “I have to tell you something.”

“I should probably tell you something too,” Cassian said, the playfulness gone, his expression solemn and a touch penitent.

Gwyn stopped pacing and wrapped her arms around her waist. “It’s fine if you got into the liquor cabinet, I don’t care.”

“Yeah, I’m not apologizing for that,” Cassian said, smushing his broad shoulders against the cushy back of the couch. “You go first.”

Gwyn’s nails scraped against her elbows as she began pacing again. She felt like she couldn’t stay still. She was scared to see how much this hurt. “I don’t know how to start, but I want you to know that it’s not Nesta’s fault. I asked her not to tell you. I made her swear.”

Cassian cleared his throat. “Gwyn. Is this about Seryn and Azriel?”

“No, it’s—” She sucked in a breath and whirled toward him. Those hazel eyes were calm, not hurt or surprised or startled. Instead there was a familiarity there, like the news wasn’t new. “What?" The bottom dropped out of her reality. "What?”

Did Rhys tell him? Had Azriel asked? How did he know? What was going on?

“Shit, Gwyn, you get so pale when you’re freaking out.”

“You know about Seryn?”

Cassian got up and moved toward her. “You’re trembling, you need to sit or something. And before you even think about it, no, Nesta didn’t tell me.”

She stared up at him, rigid. “You—”

He held up his hands. “She didn’t. And honestly it’s just been a suspicion until this weekend.” He grimaced. “Which, yeah, um, is sort of what I needed to talk to you about.”

His hand on her back gave her a careful push toward her favorite armchair even as she gaped at him. She sat down heavily as he walked over to the mini fridge. Gwyn rested against one of the arms of the chair, feeling fuzzy and disoriented. This… “Say it out loud so I know we’re talking about the same thing. Please.”

“Az is Seryn’s dad.” Cassian pulled a water bottle out of the fridge and twisted the top off. “And you haven’t told him. But yeah, I think Rhys pieced it together. He’s acting all extra smug.”

Gwyn closed her eyes. “Oh my god.”

“That’s not a surprise, is it?” he asked in a rush.

“No!” she hissed, sitting up straight, widening her eyes at him. “But I didn’t think you knew! You never told Azriel?!”

“No,” Cass hissed right back. They had to keep their voices down. He came over and handed her the water bottle before sitting down on the couch again. “Like I said, I wasn’t ever totally sure. But when you see them next to each other—yeah. It was a hunch until now.”

“A correct one.” Gwyn wrapped both hands around the water bottle. “Part of me always wanted to tell you.”

Cassian nodded. “It’s okay.” His nose scrunched. “All right, okay, when I first guessed it, I was sort of mad. But that was a long time ago, and that ball is in your court.”

A long time ago? She took a deep gulp of water, letting it cool her. “How long is a long time ago?”

Cassian shrugged. He picked up the squishmallow and pulled at its cheeks, elongating it. “Seryn was maybe three?” When he released it, the toy popped back into shape. “It was this look she gave me. Like I was annoying her to death but she still loved me and wanted me around but she was thinking about punching me?” His eyes were distant and fond. “I knew that look, and it wasn’t yours.”

Gwyn knew that look, too. She had seen Azriel level it at Cassian and Rhys more than once. “And you immediately thought of Azriel?”

“Not exactly,” he said, “Not until the next time he looked at me just like that.” Cassian pulled on the squishmallow, back and forth, testing its limits. “But I thought about it for a long time.” He tossed the toy to the side. “And I remembered that summer festival at Mist Call when we were all together and did the math.” He half-smiled. “I can math, you know. And I saw him watching you back then. A lot.”

Setting the water bottle onto the coffee table, Gwyn put her head back in the hands. Her eyes grew hot. He had held those suspicions for two years and hadn’t asked her or Nesta or Emerie? He hadn’t even mentioned it to Rhys or Az? And she hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him. “I’m sorry, Cass.”

“Hey, no.” Cass surged forward, his hands resting on her shoulders and then he drew her into a brotherly hug. “You don’t need to apologize.” He gave her a warm tight squeeze. “I know you were doing what you thought was best for Seryn. And I’m actually pretty proud of Nesta for never telling me because of your friendship. Honest.”

Oh, geez, Nesta...how was she even going to react to him knowing? Gwyn brushed at her tears, which weren’t all for the fact that she hadn’t told Cass. This whole situation was a lot to deal with, and she didn’t want Seryn to have to go through it this way.

He squeezed her again and then released her. He looked up at the ceiling, chagrined. “Um, but about what I needed to say.”

She sniffed, tamping down the tears, waiting.

“I might have planned to stop by here without much warning even before the snowstorm. With Az.”

Gwyn blinked. She picked up the water bottle again and chugged half of it before gesturing at him to sit down, her cheeks puffed out with water.

He sat. “I wasn’t trying to pressure you, promise.” He grabbed the squishmallow again, hugging it this time. “But I thought it might be good for you to see him again. And think about telling him, if I was right about the whole thing.” He smiled, just a little bit. “Which I was.”

She gulped, thinking about the twenty four hours of chaos she had just experienced and the conversation that loomed ahead of her. Gwyn crossed her arms over her chest.

“I didn’t think we’d get stuck,” he said, “That wasn’t on the agenda.”

“Where were you going to stay if you got stuck in the blizzard?”

“I dunno, but I wasn’t planning on crashing or spending the weekend here,” he said, “That was a fluke. Blame Rhys.” Cassian ruffled his own hair, an almost nervous gesture. “We were going to stop by, say hi, and leave. Just long enough for you to see Az and think, ‘Hey, maybe I should tell him…’”

“Cassian.” Gwyn ran her hand down her face. “It’s not ideal. I think he knows.”

Cassian froze. “Did Rhys tell him?” It was a sincere question, like he would confront Rhys if he had.

“No, and I don’t think he’s planning to,” she said. The water sloshed around in her gut, adding to her nervousness.

“Good,” Cass said, “You should be the one to tell him, even if he’s already guessed it.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I’m not sure why you haven’t yet, but yeah, I get you’re protecting Seryn. But he’d want to hear it from you. And she should get a chance to know him, too.”

Gwyn cupped her hand over her mouth. One step at a time. She hadn’t even thought about how she would tell Seryn yet. Her mind hadn’t reached that part of her dilemma. “What if he doesn’t want to know her?” she said so quietly she wasn’t sure she had voiced her fear. She didn’t expect anything from Azriel when it came to herself, even if she was always very aware of him when he was around and felt safe near him, but for Seryn? She wanted him to care. Everything he had said five years ago made her worried he wouldn’t, though part of her, a small voice, said otherwise. She felt like pieces of her were arguing with each other.

“He will,” Cass said firmly. “Really, Gwyn. And if he doesn’t already, he’s going to adore her.”

She wished she had his certainty. It would make it so much easier.

Chapter Text

Azriel wasn’t sure when he had fallen asleep, but it must have been in the middle of staring at the ceiling, his thoughts churning. The tangle had fallen apart. He had stayed outside for about half an hour before the cold had finally forced him back inside. Going straight to the room he was staying in, he forced himself to not go up the rest of the stairs.

Everything in him wanted to go knock on that attic door.

Getting up, feeling almost like he had a hangover, Azriel sat at the edge of the bed. Outside, the sun had risen, causing the snow to glow beneath a cloudless blue sky. He could see the icicles on the tree outside the window already beginning to melt.

All of the thoughts he had been wading through last night came racing back.

There was so much he had missed. He hadn’t been there for Seryn or Gwyn. She must not have wanted him around. If she had asked, he would have been there for her. For their daughter.

Azriel got up, changing clothes. He grabbed his hoodie and dragged it on. Yeah, it made sense though, didn’t it?

Seryn had been born five years ago. Back then, the band’s publicist wanted him to come off as “The Aloof But Available Bad Boy,” unattached, unlike Rhys and Cassian who both had wives and children at that point. Amren was clearly with Varian and Mor was taking a break from the band to travel. The publicist had been clear on how Azriel should appear in pictures, videos, interviews, news segments.

Azriel hadn’t gone along with all of it since parts of it were stupid or made him feel like a puppet, but he wanted to do what was best for the band, for the people he considered his family. It had been a constant battle between the two of them behind the scenes; Azriel hadn’t wanted to bother the others with it. The band had eventually fired that publicist after he got pissed about Azriel refusing to date and then dramatically break up with a mean-spirited nepo baby influencer for the clout. There had been a potential cheating scandal involved. The way Rhys had roared at the idiot was a very clear memory for Azriel.

Azriel could understand Gwyn’s hesitation. Even though it had seemed like she saw through that veneer.

Still. She was protecting someone.

Seryn’s first smile, first steps, first words. Sending her to her first day of school. The day she was born. Helping Gwyn with late nights and early mornings and colds and birthdays and the everyday unexpected small and large crises that happened when you had a kid. He couldn't get any of that back. Even if Gwyn didn’t want to be in a relationship with him, if she held to the no-strings-attached decision they had made, he would have helped.

Azriel headed out of the room and down the back stairs into the kitchen. Rhys was sitting at the counter in a t-shirt and pajama pants, scrolling through his phone, coffee mug by his side. He set the phone down when he saw Azriel.

“Ah. You figured it out.”

Azriel’s scowl deepened. He had quickly understood last night after his own realization that at least Rhys knew about Seryn. And he wasn’t that sure that Cassian didn’t know. Nesta must have known. It all tore at him because how could they keep it a secret from him? That he had a daughter? He wanted to hear Gwyn out and he could, if he tried, excuse Nesta because of her friendship with Gwyn, but his brothers?

How long had they known? Had Cassian known since Seryn was a newborn? Knowing that Cassian had held his daughter when she was a baby and Azriel would never experience it, that Cassian had been there to help Gwyn and he hadn’t, that was already like pouring salt over an open wound. If Cassian had known that whole time—

Azriel picked up a mug from the cabinet.

“Took you long enough.” Rhys sipped at his coffee. “Her smile is exactly like yours, did you notice? Obviously she’s far more charming though.”

Azriel hadn’t noticed. Wasn’t that clear? He grabbed the coffee pot and poured a third of it into the mug, letting it rise nearly to the brim.

He let the silence slam down between him and Rhys as he took a long, scalding sip of coffee. He enjoyed silence. He allowed it to linger.

Rhys never could handle it for very long.

“Do you think Gwyn will be too upset if I get her a pony? I’ve never had a niece before, and I plan on being ridiculous about it.”

Azriel set the mug on the counter so hard he heard the bottom crack. Coffee splashed out of it. Snatching paper towels off the holder, he started to clean the mess.

Rhys was watching him with a more careful, thoughtful gaze than his chipper flippant tone suggested. “Talk, Az.”

“You didn’t,” he said, terse and accusatory.

Rhys sighed. “It’s not like that. I wanted to, but it wasn’t my place.”

Azriel tossed out that excuse even as a small voice in his mind agreed. “How long?”

“How long what, exactly?” Rhys asked, leaning forward on the counter stool.

“How long have you known?”

“I’ve had personal inkling for years, but it wasn’t confirmed.” Rhys gestured toward the house. “I didn’t know until yesterday. I guessed.”

“Cassian didn’t tell you?” Gwyn didn’t tell you?

“No, I don’t think he knows,” Rhys said, “I feel like he would have let something slip to one of us…I think.” He tilted his head to the side. “You never considered it? Truly?”

Maybe he had. He remembered when Cassian and Nesta had gone to visit Gwyn and her baby and how the months lined up. But Gwyn hadn’t returned his calls, and even before the publicist, Azriel hadn’t thought a family was in the cards for him. He had too much baggage and no role models in that area. It wasn’t that he didn’t want a family of his own, but he wasn’t sure he deserved it or that he wouldn’t somehow screw it up. He often felt like he would eventually hurt whoever was that close to him whether he meant to or not.

Damn, maybe Gwyn was right to not tell him, to keep him at arm’s length.

Rhys’ eyes were kind. “It’s all right to accept it.”

“I have. I know Seryn’s mine,” Azriel snapped back, pain wrapped around the words at the time he couldn’t get back. “I just—Gwyn didn’t tell me.”

Azriel picked up the broken mug and dumped what remained of his coffee into the sink. He poured himself another cup full in a new mug and made a reminder to find Gwyn a replacement as he began fixing a new pot of coffee. Quiet seeped back in as the coffee dripped into the pot.

He had to talk to Gwyn, but he didn’t want to do it out of anger or say the wrong thing. Yes, he was upset but he knew she had reasons. It was why he hadn’t burst into the attic last night.

There was also the fear that she still wouldn’t want him to be a part of their lives. He didn’t know how he would handle that.

Rhys appeared beside him, reaching past to get the coffee pot. “Talk to her. But be nice.”

Azriel growled. “Stupid. Why wouldn’t I be nice?”

“Oh, I don’t know, you did just figure out you’ve had a daughter for five years and she kept it from you,” Rhys said, “That might put you on edge.”

Rhys was lucky he was holding a coffee mug. He felt like slugging his brother. “I’d never take it out on Gwyn.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant,” Rhys said, “Don’t go all quiet and brooding around her. It’ll make her feel bad.”

He wouldn’t—Azriel glowered into his coffee mug as the back stairs door flew open. Cassian stepped into the kitchen, long hair wild and tangled as he pulled it back into a ponytail, still in his pajama pants. Irritation made Azriel stiffen. Maybe he would like to punch more than one brother.

Cassian looked from Azriel to Rhys and back again, his frame taking up most of the doorway. He nodded at Azriel. “Great, you do know.”

Rhys jerked away from the counter, his coffee sloshing up and out of the mug. “Wait, you know?”

Cassian pointed a finger at Rhys. “Hah! I knew you knew. You and your smugness, you’re not subtle at all.”

“You pretended to not know. You were acting,” Rhys accused, flabbergasted. “You didn’t tell me?”

Azriel was on the verge of breaking another mug when Cassian clasped his shoulder. “If I was going to tell anyone, it’d be this one.” He gave Azriel a shake. “But I wasn’t sure, so I couldn’t, and there was also Gwyn.”

Azriel pulled away from Cassian. “You weren’t sure?”

“Nope,” Cassian said. He stole Azriel’s mug, took a sip of his black coffee, and made a face. “Needs sugar.” Taking the mug, he sauntered over to the fridge, looking for creamer. Normally Azriel would have added some himself to appease his sweet tooth, but he had been too focused on being aggravated. “After a few years, I thought Seryn might be yours, but Nesta and Gwyn and Emerie were tightlipped about who her dad was. I didn’t push it, and it was just a guess.”

“You couldn’t mention that to us?” Rhys said, “At least to Az?”

“Not my place, as much as I wanted to,” Cassian said, nearly echoing Rhys’ exact words from earlier. “This is between Azriel and Gwyn. And eventually Seryn.” He dumped an unhealthy amount of pumpkin spice creamer into the coffee. “At least you two can talk now, if she wants.”

And what if she didn’t want to? They had to talk. He couldn't leave here and not talk to her about this. How was he going to completely leave in any case? What was he supposed to do?

“You really didn’t know?” Azriel asked Cassian as he cleaned up Rhys' coffee spill with the paper towel from earlier.

Cass shook his head. “Like I said, I had a hunch but wasn’t sure. I didn’t know.” Putting down the mug, he turned, grabbed Azriel, and yanked him in for an unexpected bear hug. He crushed Azriel, who relaxed a smidge into what he was sure was a sort of apology, and then let him go. Cass punched him on the shoulder like an exclamation mark on the end of the hug. “But seeing you with her and knowing other things, she’s definitely your kid.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Rhys grumbled as he marched over to the coffee creamer.

Cass snorted. “Like I’d tell you and not Az.”

Rhys shook the coffee creamer at him. “What do you mean, anyways, knowing other things?”

“I know things.” Cassian lifted his mug.

“Again,” Rhys said sardonically, “What the hell does that actually mean?”

While they bickered, Azriel stared into his coffee, on edge as he waited for the next time someone stepped into the kitchen. He wanted to have this conversation, it had to happen, but he had no idea how it was going to go.

Chapter Text

Dressed for the day but not feeling fully mentally prepared for it, Gwyn pushed the kitchen door open. Three pairs of eyes landed on her. She steeled herself, undaunted by them. Seryn trudged in first, still in pajamas.

“Good morning, princess,” Rhys said to her. “Sleep well?”

“Mmm.” Eyes half closed, Seryn bumped against Cassian’s legs and then held her arms up to him expectantly.

As he picked her up, Cassian turned toward Gwyn, putting his back to Rhys and Azriel. He made an exaggerated grimace at her and rolled his eyes back toward the two. She was going to guess the conversation this morning had been about secrets and awareness and a certain dark-haired five-year-old. Seryn slumped across Cass’ shoulder, burying her head against her arms in her determination to keep sleeping.

Gwyn stayed by the door, assessing the situation. Azriel’s face had become that cool unreadable mask he sometimes wore, but she could see the displeasure in them as Cassian held Seryn. Okay, so perhaps that expression was only unreadable to most people. Rhys looked on with what seemed like simmering envy that Cass was currently the preferred uncle.

“Cass? Rhys?” Gwyn said, lifting her chin as she walked over to the cabinets. “Would you fix Seryn something for breakfast besides chocolate while I borrow Azriel for a while?”

“I think we could be obliged on such an occasion,” Rhys said smoothly, tossing Cassian one last barely disguised glower before walking toward the fridge.

“Yeah, why not?” Cassian said, “Az, don’t you want to go be borrowed?”

Azriel didn’t reply. His expression remained studiously blank. Was he going to refuse to have this conversation? Was he that angry with her? Frustration and worry spun around inside of Gwyn as she picked up her mug. She was aware of Azriel moving toward her; she seemed to always know exactly where he was in a room, even if she wasn’t looking. She dashed in some creamer that had been left on the counter. It was frothy, like someone had shaken it.

Azriel’s hand cupped around hers. Holding the mug steady, he poured coffee from the pot into her mug. His thumb ran across the back of her hand once, almost reassuringly, even as he frowned down at her. “It might be for longer than a while.”

Her stomach flipped.

“Yeah, understood,” Cassian said, “We’ll watch Seryn.”

For her part, Seryn didn’t seem at all curious or interested. It looked like she had fallen asleep again. Knowing Cassian, he would probably let her nap there.

Gwyn led Azriel back up the stairs she had just come down, heading for the attic apartment. He was a steady presence behind her. The tension ratcheted up a notch with each step. The silence was thickening.

“I’m not being quiet to make you upset,” Azriel said, breaking it before it became oppressive. His voice was rough. Tired. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Honestly, that makes two of us.” Even though Gwyn had been repeating this conversation in her head over and over, going through various iterations of it and what he might say, now that it was happening she felt stuck. Wordless. “It’s okay. I know why you’re…it’s okay.”

They made the journey up the rest of the stairs, and she let him into the attic. It was a decent size, made up of a living room with a small wooden table, a reading nook, her and Seryn’s bedrooms, and a small shared bathroom. Most of the colors were in blues and greens, unlike the rest of the house with its warm tones. Azriel hovered by the door as Gwyn stepped farther into the homey space.

She set the coffee mug down on the table beside a half-finished Lego castle. Gwyn touched the Legos and turned toward Azriel. He hadn’t moved away from the door. She took a deep breath, clearing her mind and trying to push aside the anxiety welling up in her. “I know you found this out on your own, but I have to—Seryn is your daughter.”

Azriel’s eyes met hers, the unconcealed hurt slicing deep. “Our daughter.”

“Right. At least we have a beginning,” she said weakly. She didn’t want to joke about the situation, but she also had no idea how to proceed. So she was clinging to the start and hoping they meandered their way through the rest of it. Sitting down at the table, she began to add pieces to the castle. Her hands needed something to do.

He joined her at the table, pulling out a chair. He swiped something off the seat and set two of Seryn’s needlefelt reindeer beside the Lego castle. Sitting down, he picked up a Lego piece. “Tell me about her.”

Gwyn let out a breath, her eyes lifting to his. There wasn’t fury there or demand. She could see the question he wanted to ask and eventually would, the ‘why,’ the hints of frustration and anger and confusion, but there was also sorrow and regret.

“Her birthday is March 3^rd. She was two weeks early,” Gwyn said, adding the Lego piece onto the side of the castle.

“And you were both all right?” He rolled a Lego around between his fingers, gaze intense.

“Yes,” Gwyn said, “It was a little scary, but it turned out fine.” A little scary was an understatement. Gwyn remembered that two AM wake up, the terror that something had gone wrong, but Catrin and Emerie had been there for her. Nesta had shown up as soon as she could, though Seryn had been born by the time her and Cassian’s flight arrived in the next city over. Catrin had barely left Gwyn’s side the entire time she and Seryn had been in the hospital.

Gwyn grabbed another Lego as a flash of her sister’s smile, the way she had held her hand through it all, glowed in her mind. The old pain at a loss that always felt fresh snapped at her and she pushed it away. “Seryn was perfect. Beautiful, in a squishy new baby way.”

Azriel nodded. He placed the Lego on the wall of the castle.

“Seryn’s…” Gwyn pressed her thumb into the Lego piece until it began to pinch. “She’s clever. And thoughtful and kind and funny, she’s quick. She holds grudges and can be devious when getting revenge, which seems too much for how old she is, but she’s so smart, Az.” She tapped the Lego on the table. “She’s not a morning person.”

An almost smile sneaked into the corner of his mouth. “I noticed.” That smile slipped away as he added another Lego piece to the castle. The silence began to wind its way back in but he broke it again. “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”

There weren’t enough Legos for this. Getting up, Gwyn spun once, looking around the room. Azriel sat back, one hand raised, as if concerned that his question had thrown her off-balance. She raised a finger to indicate that she needed a moment. Spotting what she needed, she went over to a bookshelf and grabbed a box.

“I was going to,” she started as she came back over to the table. “But first, we were both very clear on the whole no strings attached part of our weeklong…event.” Her cheeks went hot as she remembered his hands against her skin, his kisses trailing along her throat, how he met her exactly where she needed him. Event was not the right word. “I had just ended a relationship and you had ended whatever it was you had going on—”

“That’s not why you didn’t tell me,” he interrupted.

Gwyn opened the box. “It’s part of why.” She put a couple handfuls of Legos out on the table. “Another part was that interview you did with Cosmic.”

She could practically feel his moment of realization. Gwyn lifted a Lego and started snapping together what would be a castle tower as his eyes darkened and then went wide.

Yeah.

That interview.

Frost crackled in Azriel’s veins. That damn interview. He knew the exact one she was talking about, how the interviewer had smirked at him, her gaze knowing as they went through the script. How the publicist had been sitting off to the side, watching.

‘So, Azriel. Cassian and Rhysand are decidedly off the market. Wish we got to see more of the legendary rugrats, so cute!

Speaking of, what would it take to get you to settle down, anyways, Mr. Sexy and Single?’

‘I don’t have a plan for that.’

‘Not exactly an easy man to catch, huh. Lots of us appreciate that about you. Many of us. Never thought about kids? The whole white picket fence package?’

‘No. Nyx and Rhodes are great, and I enjoy being an uncle. But I like my life the way it is. I don’t expect anything else.’

‘Makes sense to not want that. Much more freedom without that fence.’

‘If that’s how you want to put it.’

‘Well, if you ever change your mind, call me. I’d love a good tall fence if you were behind it.’

‘I’ll keep that in mind.'

Azriel stared as Gwyn sorted Lego pieces, her hands active.

He hadn’t meant—he hadn’t allowed himself to consider anything besides the life he had at that point. But that interview had made him think about what he really wanted, had lodged the kernel of what-if in his mind, and Gwyn was the one his what-if revolved around.

She was brave and kind and irreverent and she made him laugh without effort. She challenged him. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way he couldn’t keep his hands off her and how he wanted to be the one that made her smile, too—

That week had messed him up in ways he had never been able to fully sort through because Gwyn was at the center of it. And she hadn’t talked to him since that week.

“You didn’t want kids, and I wanted her,” Gwyn said. She pushed a small red piece toward the other red ones. “You didn’t want your life to change, and I can’t think of anything that would change it more than a baby.”

Something inside his chest ripped. Azriel put his hand over hers, stilling her nervous movements. “I’d take back everything I said in that fucking interview if I could.”

Gwyn’s eyes glinted. “You’re just saying that.”

“No,” he said, “I’m not.” He ran his thumb across her fingers, getting her to release the Lego she was gripping. “The only thing I don’t regret from that interview was how it made me realize that wasn’t what I wanted.” He set the Lego beside the others. “That’s why I called. I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

Gwyn looked away, her shoulders squared, before she turned back to him. “I had to think about Seryn.” She was protecting her child from a father who practically said he didn’t want her. That he didn’t want a family. “I still have to think about her.”

“I’m not—” Azriel squeezed her hand but she pulled away. “I’m not that asshole.” He sat back, a surge of worry slamming against him. “I want to get to know her.”

“I get that,” Gwyn said, “I just have to figure out how that happens…When it happens.” She picked up the coffee and sipped at it, making a face when she realized it was lukewarm. “I was always going to tell her and then you, this just…makes it more complicated.”

It made him feel a little better that she was eventually going to tell him, but he halted on the second part. “Why?”

“Because,” she said, her eyes sparking, “You’re not going to be around that often, what with your show schedule, and I don’t—she’s just a little kid.” She spoke faster as she got up and walked over to the microwave sitting on top of the mini fridge. “What if she doesn’t understand? What if she thinks we’re going to be this whole happy family or she thinks you’re going to stay or she thinks we’re kidding or what if she hates me because I didn’t tell her earlier—”

“She’d never hate you.” Azriel’s heart reached for that idea of a whole happy family, he could see it, but he didn’t want to overwhelm Gwyn. His mind scrambled for a solution, how he could show her he had changed. It latched onto a crazy but plausible idea. “I could stay. For the holidays.”

“That's...you have concerts."

Azriel got up and crossed over to her. “We’re on a season break, I have a month off—”

“We’re not a holiday project,” she said, hands on her hips.

“I didn’t think you were,” Azriel said, not rising to the argument as he kept his voice firm.

“Azriel, you can’t play dad for a month—”

“I’m not, Gwyn,” he growled, feeling like she had shoved a knife into his gut, his cool temper flaring. He hadn't even had the chance to really think about what it would be like to be father yet. “You don’t have to tell her who I am yet.” He wanted Seryn to know so badly, but if Gwyn didn’t want her to know yet, he could wait to tell her. He would wait for Gwyn to be ready. “I just want a chance to be here. I wasn’t here before.”

He stood at her side as she watched her mug spin in the microwave. When Gwyn finally looked back up at him, her eyes were bright with tears. “I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s okay—”

“No, it’s not, it was a really terrible thing to say,” Gwyn said, blinking and reaching up to brush the tears away. “I didn't mean it. I'm just--I didn’t want to hurt you, Az. I don’t want to hurt you now, but I have to do what’s best for my daughter.”

“Our daughter,” he said again, the phrase strange but one he wanted to get used to saying. “And I want to stay for both of you. To show you it’s different now.” That he wasn't that person, that the way he felt was real and true.

“No strings,” Gwyn said, “We said no strings. This feels very stringy.”

“That was years ago, Gwyn.” Azriel sighed and moved that stubborn lock of copper hair back behind her ear. “Let me stay. Just for the month.”

“There aren’t any rooms available.” Her normal fire came back like embers catching on kindling. “We're booked up. And you aren’t staying in my room, if that’s what you thought.”

Azriel shrugged, forcing nonchalance even as his heart thundered. “I like couches.”

Gwyn pursed her lips and looked past him at the couch. “I don’t know if you’ll fit.”

“I’ll fit.”

“One month.”

Azriel took her coffee mug out of her microwave and handed it to her. “One month.”

Chapter Text

“It’s still not great!”

“Short stuff, you’re going to have to be more specific than that,” Cass yelled out toward her. He was halfway up a ladder with a bunch of lights around his shoulders. So far he had spiraled lights around two front porch beams but both of them had to be fixed due to how uneven it looked. Gwyn had needed to focus on her own task so someone else had taken over supervising Cassian.

Farther out in the yard, bundled up in multiple layers of winter clothing, Seryn made a pushing up motion with both arms. “You need more at the top. It’s not even.”

Azriel watched Seryn from the porch, neglecting the job he had been given, which was looping lights around the porch railings. After the conversation upstairs, he and Gwyn had hashed out a few details. He would go home to pack and then show up back at the house on December 1^st. He could stay a month. He wouldn’t tell Seryn without Gwyn's permission and neither would Rhys or Cassian. He wasn’t expected to help with the bed and breakfast (he had already decided he would, but he didn’t want to argue with Gwyn right then). It was again made very clear that he would be sleeping on the couch.

Azriel agreed to all of it in the moment, desperate to spend time with Seryn and be there for Gwyn in a way he hadn’t before. He was still surprised she had said that he could stay.

It was hard to focus on Christmas lights when he felt like he should be getting to know his daughter.

“Az, you’re falling behind,” Rhys said. He was ahead of Azriel, working on threading more garland through the railing. Gwyn seemed to have an endless collection of greenery.

Azriel followed, wrapping the lights. He had briefly been cornered by Cassian and Rhysand while Gwyn took Seryn back to the attic after breakfast. Part of him was still annoyed that they hadn’t told him about Seryn, but he also appreciated how they let Gwyn make that choice. However. He still glared at them some while he filled them in on the plan.

When they began exchanging conspiratorial side glances with each other, he began to worry about their own plans and how they might affect his.

Cass shoved at the lights, pushing too many of them up. “Like this?”

Seryn made a fussy noise. “Not like that!”

“Then you come do it, half pint.”

She put her hands on her hips. “I can’t reach, Godzilla.”

“Seryn,” Gwyn said, a touch of scolding in her tone. She was working on the decorations that surrounded the front door, a festive welcome to the season and the B&B.

“Nah, don’t get onto her, Gwyn, I’d be an awesome Godzilla,” Cassian said, “And I’ve been basically calling her short.”

“Yes, he did,” Seryn said. “I’m not that short.” She drew herself up to her full tiny five-year-old height, the light blue and white pom-pom on top of her toboggan giving her an extra couple inches. “It’s not my fault I can’t reach.”

“I think this looks good enough,” Cassian told Seryn, “It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“Yes, it does,” Seryn replied. She started back toward them, having to shove snow and stomp on it but mostly following in the footsteps that Cass had made for her so she could judge him from afar.

“You Berdaras need to chill on the perfectionism,” Cass said, pointing at Gwyn.

“As if you aren’t a perfectionist in other ways,” Gwyn said. She eyed the beams like she might have to redo them herself later. She had to be second-guessing allowing Cassian to help. He actually seemed to be willfully sabotaging the decorating efforts.

“That’s different,” Cass said, climbing down and unraveling more lights.

Azriel watched as Gwyn rolled her eyes. She readjusted the old decorative wooden ladder against the house. It was wrapped in greenery and decorated with dried berries and slices of oranges. He wondered if she had to fight off the raccoons that might want to feast on ladder.

“I need a new job,” Seryn complained to Gwyn as she trudged up the steps. “Uncle Cass doesn’t listen good.”

“I do listen. I just don’t do what you want,” Cassian said with an impenitent grin.

“That,” Seryn said, tapping the toes of her boots on the porch to get the snow off. “I don’t like that.”

“No one does,” Rhys said with an exaggerated long-suffering sigh.

“And yet we keep him around, for unknown reasons,” Az said. He leaned out of the way as Cassian scooped up a handful of snow from the railing and hurled it at him.

“I still need a new job,” Seryn said, tugging on Gwyn’s coat pocket.

Gwyn let go of the ladder and pointed at Azriel. “Go take Azriel to put the wreath on the lamppost.” Her gaze was uncertain as she looked up at him. “Is that all right?”

He nodded, dropping the lights. In front of him, Rhys snorted, but Azriel ignored him. “Where’s the wreath?”

“It’s the one with the name,” Seryn said. “I’ll get it.” She hurried inside, the snow still on her boots making melted tracks.

Gwyn stood up. “Did you see the lamppost when you got here? It’s at the end of the drive.” She gestured toward the slightly indented path in the snow that led back out to the main road.

“I did,” he said, remembering seeing it during that trek through the cold. It had to be solar-powered since it had been lightly glowing in the middle of the blizzard.

Gwyn fiddled with a dark red bow on the ladder. “Good. Maybe you can see if they’ve started scraping the road.”

Would it be bad if Azriel hoped they hadn’t? Being stuck there another day or two suited him fine, though Rhys and Cass would want to get back home for the break. He would be back here soon, in any case. Still. He selfishly willed the road to stay covered and frozen.

Seryn came back outside toting a wreath almost as big as she was. ‘Widdershins Way B&B’ was written across a light cream-colored wooden disc in the center. Must have made it easier for travelers to know they were heading in the right direction.

“Can I carry it?” he asked, holding out a hand.

“I can,” Seryn said, lifting it up over her head and starting for the steps, looking very off-balance.

Azriel moved in front of her. He blocked the steps as Gwyn put her hand on the wreath, halting Seryn.

“I know you could carry it, but it’s pretty far out there,” Gwyn said, “Let Azriel carry it and you can lead the way.”

“I can do both,” she protested, pulling at Gwyn’s hold.

“Az needs something to do, or he’ll get moody,” Rhys said airily, “You’d rather not have to deal with that, Seryn. Trust me.”

“None of us want that,” Cass added with a laugh.

Azriel considered flinging snow at them but settled for a deadpan stare.

“See? Very moody,” Rhys said, gesturing toward him.

With a little frustrated sound, Seryn handed the wreath over to Azriel. “Heeere.”

“Thank you,” he said as she headed down the steps.

“Now you can’t be moody!” she declared. The grin she tossed back at him over her shoulder let him know that she was teasing.

“I’ll keep a close eye on her,” Azriel told Gwyn as he started down the stairs.

“I know,” she said with a half-smile. She turned back to the ladder as if she was determined to not watch them go down the path.

As he left, he was aware of Cass preparing another handful of snow, this time packing it into a snowball. Azriel hurried down the steps, bent as he walked, and grabbed some snow. He ducked to the side as he formed a retaliatory snowball as best he could with one hand and then hurled it back at Cassian. Cass dodged and hid behind the porch support beam.

Seryn looked up at him as he reached her. “You missed.”

“Maybe we can fix that when we get back,” he said, offering her a smile that he hoped didn’t look uncertain. He had no idea how to “dad” as Cassian sometimes called it. His friends were so good with their kids, and Azriel was very solid in his role as an uncle. But also, Seryn didn’t know who he was to her and he didn’t know how Gwyn felt about co-parenting or—

“Why’s your face look like that?”

Azriel glanced down at Seryn, who was having to lift her legs high to make it through the snow. “What do you mean?”

“You’re all…” She made a face that looked both intense and pensive, and he had a feeling that it was identical expression to the one he had just made. She blinked and her expression reverted back to a curious one. “Why?”

“I’m thinking.”

“That’s a hard way to think.”

Azriel laughed. She said some of the most surprising things. “I have a lot to think about but I’ll try to not think so hard.”

Seryn nodded. “Just have fun?”

“I’ll give it an attempt,” he said.

They continued up the drive, Seryn valiantly struggling through the snow while Azriel very slowly followed in her footsteps. Three or four of her steps made up one of his strides.

He darted out a hand when she suddenly sat down in the snow.

“Are you all right?” Azriel asked, setting the wreath down and crouching beside her.

She nodded. “My legs hurt a little. It’s a big snow. But it’s okay.”

“I could carry you,” he said hesitantly, “I carry my nephews piggyback sometimes.”

Seryn’s teal eyes lit up. “You don’t mind? You’re already carrying the wreath.”

A cold needle of pain wheedled into his heart as he shrugged. He had carried Rhodes and Nyx so many times but never his own child. Azriel ignored the needle for now. “I can manage.” He offered a small smile. “I’ll be even less moody, according to Rhys and Cassian.”

“And your face can calm down,” she said, getting up from the snow. She brushed off her legs and then climbed onto his back, locking her arms around his neck. He hooked his arms under her knees and picked up the wreath.

“Ready?”

“Let’s go!”

As Azriel walked, Seryn held on tight. “Nyx is your nephew, too, right? Like Rhodes?”

“Mhmm,” he answered.

“Rhodes says Nyx is fun,” Seryn said, “He says he comes up with stuff to do.”

“Stuff. Trouble. Same difference, I suppose.”

“Good trouble,” she said, a touch defensive of a boy she didn’t even know. He would bet that Rhodes had told her lots of stories about Nyx. They would be such a handful if they were all in the same place.

“Nyx is smart,” Azriel said, “And creative and stubborn.”

“Mom calls me stubborn,” Seryn said cheerfully.

“From what I’ve seen, she’s right,” he said with a bit of a grin.

“Yep.” Obviously she didn’t seem to think being stubborn was a bad thing. She settled against his back, readjusting her grip. The snow crunched under his boots. Around them, birds chirped and chunks of snow occasionally fell off with quiet thumps onto the ground below.

When they reached the lamppost, Azriel let Seryn down. He caught her eyeing the road. “Don’t go far. And don’t go on the road.”

“Not going to,” she said. She walked to the very edge of it. It looked like the snowplows hadn’t made it this far out of town yet, but he could hear water running somewhere. The snow was melting. It wouldn’t be long until someone plowed the road. “Where’s your car?”

“That way,” he said, pointing down the road. He set the wreath on a knobbed post near the top of the lamppost.

“I can’t see it,” she said, going up on her tiptoes.

“It’s far away,” he said, “We’d have to walk a long way to get there.” It had felt like they were walking for miles before they arrived at the bed and breakfast. Maybe he should’ve been more grateful to not actually get frostbite.

Seryn trudged back over. “Maybe Aunt Emerie can get it out for you with a tractor.”

Emerie…one of Gwyn’s best friends. She had been there during the music festival, along with Gwyn’s sister, who she used to be in the duo with before she passed. Nesta had told him about it, and he had donated to the charity Gwyn had asked for money to be given to in lieu of flowers. That had been three years ago. He should’ve reached out, but they hadn’t talked in forever—

“Your face.”

Azriel blinked and shook his head. “Are you going to tell me every time I look like that?”

“Maybe,” Seryn said, grinning again, a mischievous little pixie.

With a slow nod, he bent down and started packing a snowball.

Guessing his intentions, Seryn let out a delighted, “No!” She tried to run back down the driveway but he still pelted her with a snowball. He made sure it wasn’t thrown with too much force. Laughing, Seryn started making her own snowball.

Azriel let this one smack into his chest as he approached. “Truce.”

Seryn was still working on a snowball when he stopped beside her. She set the snowball on top of his boot and stood up.

Grabbing the snowball, he packed it tighter and tossed it up and down in one hand. “Want to help me get back at Rhys and Cass for those comments about me being moody?”

“But you are—” She covered her mouth and giggled as he pretended to disdainfully aim the snowball at her. “Okay, okay!”

“We’re going to need a lot of ammunition.” It was too early for the annual snowball fight but never too early to begin mental preparations and planning and, in this case, training.

Chapter Text

With the last and biggest of the outdoor wreaths slung over her shoulder, Gwyn opened the front door. She immediately regretted it as snow exploded against her shoulder. She winced. That sort of stung.

“Apologies, Gwyn!” Rhys called from out in the yard, surprise on his face, “I was aiming at—”

He didn’t get to finish as a tall figure in a familiar black hoodie stepped in front of Gwyn. Azriel hurled an icy shot of vengeance that caught the apologetic band leader in the side as he started to dive out of the way. Judging by the way Rhys landed, hand on his lower ribs, it must have hurt some.

“Sorry,” Azriel said over his shoulder to Gwyn.

She lifted her eyebrows and brushed off the snow as she stepped past him. Out in the yard, Rhys was getting up from the snow, which clung to him and got stuck in his black hair. Cassian held the red plastic sled like a shield as he walked menacingly toward the evergreen bushes that lined the walkway. He sunk down behind the sled as a couple snowballs flew out from between two of the bushes. Seryn’s laughter drifted up from that same direction.

Azriel hauled back and flung another snowball, only missing Cassian by a hair.

Gwyn set the wreath down, leaning it against the porch railing. “I went inside for five minutes, and you guys started a war?”

“More like a skirmish,” Azriel corrected, earning him an eyeroll.

Gwyn eyed Rhys, considering, and then held out a hand. “I’m officially a mercenary. My skills go to the highest bidder.” She pursed her lips. “And let’s remember, I live in ‘Christmas Town.’” As Cassian was so quick to call it. “Therefore, my skills are considerable.”

Competition gleamed in Azriel’s eyes. He handed over a few snowballs from his arsenal, aka his hoodie pocket. “And revenge doesn’t factor in at all?”

Gwyn shrugged and skipped merrily down the steps before stalking toward Rhys. He was still wiping snow off his jeans when he jerked his head up, sensing her and her intentions. His violet eyes widened, indignant.

“Hold on, I apologi—”

For the second time Rhys was interrupted, though this time he managed to dodge the first snowball. With a startled laugh, he swooped down and started making another snowball. A shout escaped him as Gwyn’s next snowball pinged off his hip and then a second smacked him in the head. Behind the shield, Cassian whooped. Gwyn had to scramble back as Cass hurled one her way. She spun and started running for cover as Rhysand turned, fully armed and ready for payback. At least until more snowballs came zooming in from the porch, distracting him.

This was the release she had needed. So many emotions had been rolling around in her chest, caught there since the conversation that morning. She kept thinking about it, barely able to focus on breakfast or decorating. Worry and pain and old healed hurt and then relief and uncertainty, all mixed in with whatever feeling she was keeping shoved down under it all. That one she wasn’t going to examine. It was the one that made something in her sing when Azriel tossed that grin her way.

He had argued to stay, to spend time with Seryn, when she had been afraid that he wouldn’t want anything to do with her. A month? He was going to be sleeping on the couch in their living room for a month, he wasn’t going to fit, did she need to buy him an air mattress, would he even fit on a damn air mattress—

No, Gwyn: snowball fight. The battle made her focus instead of mentally running through everything they had discussed that morning yet again.

A snowball popped against her back. She jerked up. Seryn’s nearby victorious giggling made Gwyn’s mouth drop open. “Betrayal!” she said, laughing, “Seryn, how could you?”

“Nuh-uh, it was Rhys,” Seryn said as she stood up from the bushes. She pointed at Rhys, all feigned innocence except for the mischief in her accusing gaze.

“I’m not even in the right direction,” Rhys countered. He tossed a snowball up into the air and caught it casually before zipping it toward Az, who vaulted over the porch railing like he did parkour. Did he? Maybe he did…

Whatever Seryn was about to argue was cut off when Cassian descended on her, abandoning the shield in favor of grabbing Seryn. He tucked her under his arm like a football. “This is for teaming up with Az against me.”

Seryn squirmed, but she was trapped. “Mom!”

“Sorry, pumpkin, you chose this,” Gwyn said, making a new snowball. “Try tickling him.”

“No, don’t!” Cassian set Seryn down and made a show of running away from her as she chased after him.

Gwyn started to follow but had the distinct feeling she should duck. She barely managed to miss getting hit by a snowball from the direction of the house.

“Oh, so that’s how it is,” she said, hefting the snowball once and whirling on Azriel.

He was bending down, already working on new ammunition, glancing up only once to check her position. Gwyn began to stomp that way when more snowballs were shoved at her.

Rhys grinned. “I could have sworn I heard you were a mercenary.”

Gwyn nodded and took the newest payment. “Happy to switch sides.”

Azriel might have been excellent at playing the long game, but he hadn’t planned on Gwyn teaming up with what he must have thought was her main enemy. Didn’t he realize they were never permanent teams in a snowball fight? She vaguely remembered Cassian mentioning an annual snowball fight between the guys. Honestly, this shouldn’t have surprised him.

He took two snowballs, one to the side and one to the chest as he started toward them—no, toward her. Gwyn took off, all that tension from earlier turning into momentary glee at the silliness of it all. She spun and hurled a snowball. He was gaining so fast, damn him, but she was quick and highly motivated.

As they rounded the house, a snowball hit her lower back. Deciding to mess with him, she pretended to stumble and fall into the snow, landing on her knees.

He slowed down but in a hesitant way, like he suspected he was walking into a trap. And he was correct.

Grabbing as much snow as she could, Gwyn whirled and got to her feet in a smooth movement (thanks, local community college self-defense courses). She flung all the snow she had gathered at him, peppering him with snow.

He shook his head, sending snowflakes scattering, and stepped toward her, eyes glinting with amusement, appreciation, and something else. For a second, she wondered if it was that same feeling that she herself refused to acknowledge, that flash she had felt in barn amid her anxiety, but no, she wasn’t going that route.

A flash of blue caught her attention.

Seryn dashed around the corner of the house, the blue sled held over her head. Rhys and Cass were behind her, going slow enough to actually let her stay ahead. Snowballs fell right at her heels. One thunked against her shoulder before she reached Gwyn and Azriel, dropping the sled.

“Help, help!” she breathed through her laughter, darting in-between the two of them, hugging onto Gwyn with one arm and grabbing the hem of Az’s hoodie. “Mom, they’re coming…” She peeked around Azriel, gasped, and then tugged on his hoodie. “Az! Help!”

A brief glance of understanding passed between Gwyn and Azriel right before Az turned to face the two approaching menaces.

Cassian backpedaled while Rhys skidded to a stop. The snowballs Azriel launched in their direction seemed like they were shot from a cannon.

"Shit, shit, wait-" Cass covered his head. A snowball burst against his elbow.

Rhys ducked to the side. "Azriel, if you break my face, Feyre might be upset..."

Perhaps Gwyn should have reminded Azriel that Seryn wasn’t hurt and that she was having a good time.

However, they were winning, which meant she decided not to.

Gwyn joined in, lobbing with the extreme precision of someone who knew her way around a snowball fight. Together, they forced Rhys and Cass back around the corner of the house.

Maybe they had a lot to figure out over the next month or so, but hey, at least Gwyn knew they could work as a team when it came to an epic snowball fight. That had to count for something, right?

Chapter Text

Around sunset, the sound of scraping could be heard in the distance. One of the snowplows was making its way down the country road, signaling that the road would be clear soon. The tow truck could probably yank the rental out of the ditch tomorrow. That meant they would be leaving.

A pit grew in Azriel’s stomach as he glanced out the window toward the road he couldn’t even see from the house.

The couch cushion beside him sank as Cassian sat beside him, half blocking his view with that man bun of his. “Stop moping. You’re going to be coming right back here.”

How…sometimes Azriel forgot how much Cassian noticed things. Rhys could seem to read your mind, but Cassian read your body language and figure out what you were thinking that way. Az didn’t look away from window, leaning to see around Cassian out of spite.

“What’re you looking at?” Seryn asked as she came into the room. She had on a black leotard and a blue fluffy tutu; she had declared earlier that she was going upstairs to practice for dance class. Gwyn had gone as well, saying that she wanted to take a nap before they all started making dinner. There was no way any of them were letting her make a meal on her own when they were capable of helping.

Coming over to the couch, Seryn reached out a hand to Cassian. “Can I see?”

“Whatever the princess demands.” Cass took her hand and hauled her up onto the couch as she stepped onto the cushion. Azriel tried to tamp down his pointless annoyance at Cassian as Seryn leaned against his shoulder and looked outside. She was so familiar with Cassian, there was no hesitation in how she interacted with him, but she was Azriel’s daughter.

Seryn glanced over at Azriel. “Was it the snow?”

“Hmm?”

“What you were staring at like this.” She scowled, eyes narrowed in exaggerated grouchiness.

“Show me the look,” Cassian said, taking her by the shoulder and turning her so he could see. He burst out into laughter. “Shit, Ser, that’s perfect. That’s the face.”

Azriel rolled his eyes. “I didn’t look like that.”

“Did so,” Seryn said, dropping down onto the couch between him and Cassian. The mischievous smile she offered him dug its way into his heart. “Why’s the snow making you grumpy?”

“It’s not the snow, it’s the plow,” Cassian said. “Azriel has a deep fear of snowplows.”

“I do not,” Azriel protested.

“But Slushbert is cool,” Seryn said. She patted Azriel’s forearm with innocent empathy. “Maybe you can meet him if Ms. Wendy comes by.”

“I don’t think he wants Slushbert to come here,” Cassian said with a smirk.

That was true, but Cassian had also been right earlier, he was coming back soon. Not that Seryn knew that yet. Azriel wondered if he and Gwyn would tell her together that he was going to be staying—no, that would probably be Gwyn alone. Otherwise it might seem like it was a big deal. To Azriel, this was the upcoming month would be the most important in his life. All he wanted to do was get to know the dark-haired, bright-eyed girl who was now explaining to him how awesome a particular snowplow was.

Rhys came down the stairs, talking on the phone. “Yes, I know, I can’t help that the snow is here and not there. Nyx. Nyx, stop yelling, it’s not going to change reality and it’s causing my concert-induced hearing loss to get worse.”

Seryn jumped off the couch and ran over to Rhys. “Can I talk?”

Rhys covered the phone and looked down at her, considering. “He’s yelling. Are you sure want to get yelled at?”

Seryn put her hands on her hips and thought about it for a moment before holding up a hand. “Yep.”

With a smile, Rhys gave her the phone. She held it away from her at arm’s length. “When you quit shouting, this isn’t your dad, it’s Seryn,” she said toward the cell phone, calm even though Nyx’s tinny voice was still audibly fussing at Feyre’s phone on the other end of the line. “I’ve got questions.” She headed down the hall, presumably toward the kitchen.

Rhys shook his head as he walked over toward Azriel and Cassian. “That’ll be a conversation for the ages.” He shoved his way onto the couch between the two of them even though there were plenty of other places to sit. Azriel had to move his arm before it got squashed behind Rhys’.

“Feyre said to tell you both hello,” Rhys said, “And Nyx said it wasn’t fair to have a snowball fight without him.”

“We’ll have to fix that,” Cassian said. He flexed, pushing Rhys away. “Go find your own damn couch.”

Rhys shoved back. “We’re bonding. It’s good for band morale.”

Azriel pushed Rhys as well. “We can bond without you stealing couch space.”

Rhys jutted out his elbows, catching both of them in the side. “It’s not stealing when it’s available.” He assumed an air of pseudo-superiority. “See, this is why I’m the frontman, I don’t whine as much as the rest of you about little things like personal space.”

Azriel and Cassian didn’t even have to exchange a glance. They were on the same mental wavelength as they leaned away from Rhys at the same time, pressing into the arms of the couch. Rhys had a second to process what they were doing before they slammed against him in unison, crushing him. With a growl, Rhys punched out at Cassian even as he elbowed Azriel again, but Az shoved his shoulder while Cassian blocked his fist. They were in danger of devolving into all out brawl when Gwyn cleared her throat.

“If you break my furniture, I’m kicking you all out early,” she warned in a sing-song tone. “The road’s almost clear so you could hitchhike to town.”

“Or catch a ride on the snowplow,” Cassian said. He tempted fate by nudging Rhys one last time. When Gwyn frowned at him, he held up his hands. “I’m done, I’m done.”

Azriel got up from the couch, subtly also pushing Rhys one last time. He assumed a cool, unbothered expression as he stepped forward, avoiding how Rhys tried to drive a foot into the back of his kneecap to make him stumble. “Can I help with dinner?”

“I suppose,” Gwyn said, “Can you boil water for pasta?”

“We’ll see,” Azriel said in a deadpan tone as he moved toward her.

“We’ll come join you in a moment,” Rhys said, stretching a bit. “Cass and I need to figure out the car situation.”

“And you don’t need him?” Gwyn said, nodding to Azriel.

“You can have him,” Rhys said, “But I'm sorry that he won’t be much help.”

“Hey, at least he can’t burn water,” Cassian said.

“Small blessings,” Gwyn said, walking backwards toward the kitchen, her socked feet silent on the hardwood floors. Her eyes were lighter now, the secret cleared, and her smile around him was easier.

As they reached the kitchen, Azriel could hear Seryn talking to Nyx and he could actually also hear his nephew. Azriel pushed the door open for Gwyn.

Seryn was holding the phone up and gesturing toward the window that looked out at the back porch and backyard. “I don’t know, it’s not that deep. Maybe like later it will be. How would you get on the roof?”

“There’s gotta be a window,” Nyx replied, “And if you jump right, you won’t break anything. We could totally try it when I visit.”

“You are not going to try whatever stunt you just suggested, Nyx,” Azriel said, loud enough for the phone to pick up.

“No one’s jumping off any roofs,” Gwyn added.

Seryn whirled around toward them. “We’re not!”

“Can we jump off the porch then?” Nyx’s voice came from the phone.

Azriel held out a hand, palm open, and Seryn sighed before forking over the phone. He realized that Nyx was on FaceTime. His nephew was wearing a big grin, his messy black hair in need of brushing. “Hey, Uncle Az.”

“Hey, trouble,” Azriel said, “Stop living up to your nickname.”

Nyx gave the phone a troubled look. “Huh? I didn’t get that, what did you say? Stop being awesome?”

“You can’t pretend the signal is breaking up without putting some actual effort into it,” Azriel said.

“Plus we have excellent cell service and wifi,” Gwyn put in. “It’s on the website.” She was already getting out what they needed for spaghetti out of the cabinets. “Hello, Nyx, by the way. I’m Gwyn.” Azriel turned the phone so the camera caught her and she could see Nyx as well.

“Hi, Gwyn,” Nyx said. He watched something beyond the phone for a moment and then came back fully into the frame. “Mom said hi, too, and she can’t wait to catch up some time soon.”

“I’d like that,” Gwyn said with a smile of her own. They knew each other a bit besides that one festival, Azriel guessed, since Gwyn was one of Nesta’s best friends.

Azriel turned the phone back toward himself. “I’m hanging up now.”

“Noooo, let me live,” Nyx said, “Don’t hang up.”

“I think you’ll survive,” Azriel said.

“Bye, Nyx!” Seryn called.

“Bye, Seryn!” Nyx yelled right before Azriel ended the call.

As he joined Gwyn by the counter, Azriel wondered what Nyx had meant when he mentioned visiting. Was Rhys already planning to crash Rhodes and Seryn’s joint birthday party with Feyre and Nyx accompanying him? Azriel wouldn’t put it past him. But if Nyx thought there was going to be snow when he came…maybe it was just a kid thing and he and Seryn had been talking about a potential visit.

Chapter Text

“Don’t you want to tell them goodbye?”

In response, Seryn burrowed further into the pillows of Gwyn’s bed, rooting in-between them with a frustrated sound that Gwyn recognized. It was the noise Seryn made when she was trying not to burst into tears. “They can’t go if I don’t say bye.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works, sweet girl.” Gwyn sat down on the edge of the bed as Seryn curled up, mostly hidden by the pillows, sending out almost visible rays of unhappiness. Downstairs, the guys were getting ready to leave. The rental car had been unburied that morning. The garage in town had looked it over and made sure it was road worthy, which meant that the wayward rockstars could get back on the road after a long and decidedly dramatic detour. An extremely eventful detour for Azriel, she supposed. She never would have expected the weekend to wind up being a tell-all to her once-upon-a-time fling and the father of her child, but here they were in the aftermath.

“I think you might regret not saying bye,” Gwyn said, leaning over so she could peek at her daughter between the pillows. Her hand sank into the folds of the soft quilt as she moved up toward the head of the bed.

“Everyone always leaves,” Seryn said, a plaintive whine in her muffled voice. She curled up tighter, yanking a pillow toward her to create a better barrier against Gwyn.

“But a lot of them come back,” Gwyn said, but she felt her heart twist at the honesty of Seryn’s pain. Seryn usually bore up well under the constant comings and goings of the bed and breakfast, but she knew it was hard sometimes. She grabbed the pillow and gave it a shake, which made Seryn hold on. “Your Aunt Emerie is here.”

“She’s different, she’s Emerie,” Seryn said, as if the idea of Emerie leaving had never occurred to her and it wasn’t a possibility.

“Nesta and Cassian and Rhodes always come back.”

“After a really forever long time,” Seryn said. “I don’t like it. I don’t want them to go.”

“I know, baby,” Gwyn said. She tugged on the pillow. “But hey, I have news you might like. Do you want to hear it?”

Seryn stilled but didn’t emerge from her hiding spot. “Give it. Please.”

Gwyn jostled the pillow, bouncing it against Seryn. “You have to come out of there to hear it.”

“No, you can tell me here.”

“Nooo, I can’t,” Gwyn said, “So come forth, my child, into the land of sunshine and light.” She pulled the pillow and Seryn with it, dragging Seryn out of the pillows since she refused to let go of that one. With one final haul, she tugged Seryn to her and wrapped her arms around her. “Look, it’s my daughter, returned to me from the land beyond the realm of the bed!” She pecked kisses against Seryn’s head and cheeks until her frown turned into giggles.

“I was still on the bed,” Seryn protested, squirming and twisting in Gwyn’s arms. She escaped and then snuggled up against Gwyn like a baby chick. “What is it, tell me stuff.”

“Well,” Gwyn said, putting an arm around her. “It’s more like a question.”

“I like questions."

Oh, didn’t Gwyn know it, but usually Seryn was the one doing the asking. Gwyn had waited to mention that Azriel was coming back; perhaps part of her thought that he might change his mind. It was a lot of comprehend, after all, and—well, maybe she didn’t think he would back out, but he was also famous and had a life far away from here and a schedule and all that. Uprooting himself for a month seemed like a long time to her, and maybe he would realize that he didn’t have the time for it. However, he had shown no signs of backing out, so it seemed safe to tell Seryn.

“How would you feel if Azriel came back after a week?”

Seryn’s black hair, the same shade as her father’s, slipped over her face as she leaned her head to the side. “Back here?”

“No, back to Antarctica,” Gwyn said, teasing. “Yes, back here, Ser. He’s going to stay with us for a while.”

Seryn’s face lit up. “Really?”

“Is that okay?” Gwyn asked, suddenly uncertain. “He’ll be sleeping on the couch—”

“He can borrow my Rainbow Dash blanket and I’ve got a pillow and the couch is really small,” Seryn said. She scuttled out from Gwyn’s hold and slipped off the side of the bed. “He’s got real long legs.”

“You’re not wrong,” Gwyn said with a small smile as Seryn leaned against the bed. “We might have to get him one of those inflatable mattresses.” A really big one. They had to make them for people over six feet tall, right? “It’s really nice of you to offer your things.”

“Is Uncle Cassian and Rhys staying too? Are Aunt Nesta and Rhodes and everybody coming here?”

“No, only Azriel,” Gwyn said. She put her hand over Seryn’s. “You really don’t mind if Azriel stays?” She knew eventually she would need to tell her the truth, but baby steps. Not to mention now that basically everything was in the open between them Azriel should probably be there when she dropped that information on Seryn.

“I think he’s cool,” Seryn said, “And you think he’s cool.”

“I didn’t say that,” Gwyn said, her cheeks heating up.

“But you do,” Seryn said. Pulling away from Gwyn, she spun once in the center of the room, a move from her ballet class. “You get a face sometimes.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s a happy face.” That was all the explanation she was getting since Seryn did a plié and then sprang out of it, arms extended. She spun and twirled her way around the room. “How long’s he staying?”

Gwyn watched her, wondering if the guys could hear her jumping. “A few weeks.”

“During crazy busy time?” Aka, the whole Christmas season. It really was “crazy busy” at the bed and breakfast and in their town during the month of December. Azriel had no idea what he was getting into, even though Cassian had laid out that Holly Hill was essentially Christmas Town. It might fully set in how much of a reality that was when he got back and saw the entire town decked out with tinsel and poinsettias and snowmen and Santas.

“I think he’ll help with the craziness.” Whether she wanted him to or not, she knew Azriel would be giving her a hand.

“He can carry stuff,” Seryn suggested, “His arms are big, too.”

Gwyn couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped her. Again, Seryn wasn’t wrong. “Yeah, he’s sort of muscular for a rockstar, isn’t he?”

“Yep.” Seryn nodded like she had a lot of experience with rockstars. Well…eh, now that Gwyn was thinking about it, Ser had grown up with Cassian for an uncle. In her eyes, rockstars were muscular.

Gwyn smiled and tapped her foot on the floor. “So does this mean you’re going to go tell everyone goodbye? They’re leaving in about an hour or two.”

Seryn’s smile vanished and she shook her head. “I don’t want to.”

Gwyn got up. Ah, to be five again and think that you could change the way of things through sheer stubborn force of will. She brushed her fingers through Seryn’s thick hair and bent to kiss her forehead. “All right, that’s your choice,” she said, “But if you change your mind, we’ll be downstairs.”

Seryn huffed and went to go sulk in her room, most likely hoping that her ignoring the whole goodbye issue would mean no one could leave. Truthfully, Gwyn thought that might work to a degree, but she wasn’t about to say that. With a reminder to Seryn to not touch anything in the kitchen area, Gwyn headed back downstairs.

Glancing out a window, Gwyn noticed Rhysand out in the backyard, carrying an armload of wood. Over by the barn, Cassian was adjusting the woodpile from last year, moving logs and sticks around and making it easier for her to get to the wood. She had meant to chop more wood herself, but the snow had caught her off guard. It rarely, if ever, snowed this much this early in the season.

Pursing her lips, Gwyn pushed the curtain back. Warmth filled her chest.  

Apparently instead of resting up for the drive, someone had suggested stockpiling wood for Gwyn. Which provided quite a nice view for her for a moment since Azriel was the one chopping wood. He was wearing one of Cassian’s spare t-shirts, those muscles she had commented on earlier rippling as he swung down the axe. So precise. The wood split evenly, falling away under one blow. The way his shoulder blades rolled under that thin white material— Her forehead hit the cool window pane with a soft thunk, waking her up from her sudden daze.

“Whoa, get it together, Berdara,” she scolded herself. Before any of them could notice her ogling a certain base player, she hurried down the rest of the stairs, going into the kitchen to make them a basket of snacks for their trip.

Chapter Text

Azriel lingered at the top of the steps while Cassian and Rhys pretended to re-inspect the rental car for damage. There wasn’t any. He knew they were doing it to give him a moment alone with Gwyn. She held out a sizable plastic to-go container to him. “There’s goldfish crackers, pretzels, carrots, and peanut butter in there. Should hold you guys over on the flight.”

“Thank you,” he said as he took it. It was packed full of the snacks she had mentioned, like she was worried they might go hungry. Azriel gripped the container tighter. “You didn’t have to—”

“I didn’t want Cass to get hangry and start bothering everyone,” Gwyn said. “You already crashed the car once, I don’t think it can take much more damage.”

Azriel made a face. “I did not.”

“Okay, Rhys did then. Or it slid into the ditch on its own and you all just happened to be in it.”

He didn’t argue with the truth. He bowed his head toward her. “Thank you again for letting us stay, Gwyn. And for telling me.”

Gwyn twisted her empty hands together, her lower lip finding its way between her teeth. His chest twinged at her uncertain expression. “Maybe I should’ve told you earlier. I don’t know. I guess we’ll never know.”

He shifted the container to his left hand and used his right to still her fidgeting. He wrapped his fingers over hers. “You had your reasons.” Yes, he would’ve wanted to know from the beginning, but he understood what that article had meant. It had damned him, and the only way he had to fix it was showing her in person that he didn’t feel that way. That he cared about her and Seryn, and he would be there for both of them. That he loved having a daughter and wanted to know everything about her.

The door cracked open behind Gwyn. One teal eye glared at him from the tiny slit of an opening. Azriel stared back. “Hey—” The door snapped shut again.

Gwyn sighed and squeezed his fingers before letting his hand go. He tucked the plastic container into his hoodie pocket. Leaning over, Gwyn knocked on the door. “They’re about to leave, kiddo. Last chance.”

Over by the car, Cassian whirled toward the porch. “Seryn! Are you really going to make me leave without a goodbye?!” He was loud enough that the people two farms over would have heard him, so there was no way Seryn couldn’t hear him, not even with the door closed.

Rhys moved to stand beside Cassian, his hands tucked into the pockets of his fancy jacket. He offered Gwyn a smile. “We’ve appreciated your hospitality, Gwyn. Thank you for opening your home to weary travelers, especially since this one somewhat orchestrated our catastrophe.” He slapped a hand against Cass’ arm, getting an unapologetic huff out of him.

Gwyn narrowed her eyes at Rhys, all suspicion. “I better not see a random donation to the bed & breakfast show up, Rhysand. I said I didn’t want anything for the weekend, you were my guests.”

Rhys leaned against the car. “If such a thing did happen, there’s no way to know who sent it.”

“Oh, I would know.”

The door opened again, and this time Seryn squeezed out, a grumpy pout on her face. She rushed over and tucked herself against Gwyn’s side, hugging her around the waist.

Gwyn rubbed her back. “It’s okay if you’re sad, pumpkin.”

Seryn kept her face pressed against Gwyn’s side as she shook her head. Azriel was aware of Cassian stepping up beside him.

Cass reached out and fluffed Seryn’s messy hair. “Didn’t you have fun this weekend?” Seryn shook her head and hugged Gwyn tighter. Cass smiled. “Okay, now I know you’re fibbing. That snowball fight was epic.”

Finally Seryn peeled back from Gwyn, her face red as she sniffled, tears welling in her eyes. Azriel felt his heart twist, and he took a half-step forward, wanting to fix it for her. Apparently having a kid made it difficult to see them upset. “Do you have to go?”

“Come here,” Cassian said, opening his arms.

Seryn rushed into his hold, which turned into a bear hug as he scooped her up. Cass squeezed her tight and swung her back and forth as she pressed her face into his shoulder. “I’ll be back sooner than you think.”

“March is long away,” Seryn mumbled as she lifted her head. The tears were gone now, shaken away, but her nose was red. “That’s long.”

“Ehh, who knows how long that really is.”

Azriel crossed his arms, not knowing exactly what Cassian meant by that. His brother squeezed Seryn one last time and then set her back on the porch. He held out a fist. “Love you, short stuff.”

“Love you, too,” Seryn said, thumping her fist against Cass’ before he went to go hug Gwyn goodbye. For a moment, Seryn hovered near the two of them, looking at Rhys and Azriel.

What should he do? Wave? He wanted to hug her, to tell her he would be back soon, but he didn’t think that his leaving meant quite as much to her as Cass leaving, which made him feel an odd sense of loss. Her teal eyes flicked from him to Rhys.

Rhys smiled and bowed to her, ever the performer. “Like I said before, I’m very glad to have finally met you, Seryn—ooof.” He caught her as she collided into him. There was the briefest second where Rhys was wide-eyed and borderline emotional, and then he hugged her back with a laugh. “It’s not forever.”

Seryn leaned back to give him a suspicious glance. “Really?”

“Really. As Cass said, we’ll be back sooner than you think.”

Okay, what were they planning? Azriel shot Cass a searching look, but he was busy talking quietly to Gwyn. There wouldn’t be room at the bed and breakfast, not unless Rhys or Cass bought rooms from someone else. But they would have to get into Gwyn’s booking system. Nesta might have access to that. Still, they wouldn’t do that...no, Rhys totally would.

Seryn snuggled him. “I’ll still miss you, Rhys.”

Again, Azriel thought that Rhys was going to have a momentary meltdown, but he held it together. “I’ll miss you too, princess.” He hugged her again and then set her down. “You’ve been an excellent hostess.”

Seryn swept a graceful little curtsy. “Thank you.” With that goodbye complete, she turned to Azriel. He tightened his crossed arms, still unsure of what to do, as she walked up to him. Those eyes, so much like Gwyn’s, peered up at him. “When you come back, can you come watch my dance class one day?”

Azriel froze.

“I might have told her you were going to come back to visit longer in a week,” Gwyn told him as she crossed over to Rhys for a hug. “It wasn’t supposed to be a surprise, was it?”

“No,” Azriel said quickly, reassuring her. He knelt down on one knee and gave Seryn a small smile. “It’s all right with you if I stay for a while?”

Seryn nodded and put a hand on her hip. “Yep, but are you coming to my dance class?”

“Don’t be so sassy,” Gwyn said, her voice fond even in the slight scolding.

“She can’t help it, she gets it honest,” Cass said, laughing as Gwyn gave his bicep a half-hearted smack. “I meant from her aunts!”

“Yeah, right. And I'm telling them you said that.”

"Gwyyyyn, no."

“Of course I will,” Azriel said to Seryn. He banished the lump that tried to rise in his throat. “We can do whatever you want.”

Her eyes instantly lit up. “Anything?”

“Oh wow, Az, the perfectly wrong thing to say to a child, congratulations,” Rhys teased, shaking his head.

“Within reason,” Gwyn amended for him, but Seryn’s grin was touched with a hint of mischief.

“I know, Mom,” she said, “I knooow.” She spun in place one time and then darted forward to hug Azriel around the neck. He hugged her back as she tightened her grip. “I’ll make lists,” she whispered at him, “Of fun things.”

Azriel smiled at her when she let go. “I’ll be ready.” He forced himself to stand up, resting his hand on the top of her head for a moment. She put both hands over his and grinned up at him. Her hands were so very small. He didn’t want to leave yet.

Cassian hugged Gwyn one last time. “Yell if you need anything.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said before pointing at Rhys, a move she must have picked up from Nesta, who had a habit of at pointing threateningly at people she had beef with. “And you, I mean it about any donations.”

Rhys blew her a rockstar patented kiss and then turned on his heel, striding off toward the car. “Later, Gwyneth.”

Her sigh was deep and slightly growly, which made Azriel step closer to her. “Your brothers are incorrigible.”

“That’s very kind of you to put it so mildly,” he said in a wry tone as Seryn grabbed the hem of her sweater.

“Make sure to send your flight info so we know when you’re getting in.” They had already talked about how he would need to get a rental so he would have something to drive around, so Gwyn and Seryn wouldn’t be meeting him at the airport.

“I will,” he said. “And I’ll try to figure out what they’re cryptically alluding to while I’m away.”

“Oh geez, thank you, I knew you’d pick up on that,” Gwyn said, reaching out and putting a hand on his arm, casual and friendly. “See you soon, Az.” Her fingers wrapped into his hoodie sleeve and then she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. She must’ve been just as surprised as he was because her eyes were round when she pulled back, red creeping up her neck. Gwyn picked up Seryn and took a step back, nearly hitting the decorative ladder on the porch. “Um, right, we’ll see you.”

Azriel nodded and took a step backward down the steps. “Yes, ma’am.” Shit, was he a country singer now? Don’t be insecure. He nodded once more and rushed to the car, where Cassian was leaning into the front seat to honk the horn.

When he got in and revved the engine, he could feel both Cassian and Rhys expecting him to say something. Instead, he turned on his phone, found a favorite Spotify list, and blasted it as he turned onto the driveway.

One week, and then he’d be back. That week was going to feel so long.

Chapter Text

Gwyn stared at the reindeer statue. It stared back at her with its lifeless creepy cerulean painted eyes. “Emerie, why is this at my house?”

“Because Mr. Clarence bought it and paid me to deliver it and I wasn’t going to pass up on an easy fifty bucks,” Emerie said with a guiltless smile. She slapped the reindeer’s fiberglass rump and shook out her stinging fingers. “It’s only for a couple days.”

“He can live here always,” Seryn said, brushing her hand over the reindeer’s side.

“See, Seryn likes him. Maybe next year we can put a reindeer here for you guys,” Emerie said.

Seryn’s eyes lit up. “Yes!”

Gwyn crossed her arms. “Aren’t these all supposed to be up for bidding?”

Emerie shrugged. “Did I mention how many zeroes his check had on it? There were a lot of zeroes, Gwyn.”

Okay…a lot of zeroes were helpful when the money was going to a good cause, aka the renovation of the town’s recreation hall that also housed the clothes closet and food pantry. Every year, artists in town painted approximately twenty fiberglass reindeer that were then displayed around the town between Thanksgiving and the week before Christmas. Some of them had themes. Tourists and townies took pictures with them, and people with lots of money bid on the reindeer until the auction was finished. This particular one was citrus-themed. Oranges, limes, lemons, grapefruits, tangerines, etc. made up its coat. The artist had hung clementines from its antlers.

“The Clarences are from Florida, right?” Emerie asked, “This is perfect for them. Very tropical.”

“For their house, sure,” Gwyn said, reaching out to twist one of the clementines. “You couldn’t put it around back?”

Emerie’s smile turned wry and mischievous. “Are you trying to say you don’t like it?”

“It looks like the produce aisle threw up on it.”

Emerie wrapped her arm around Gwyn’s shoulders and squeezed. “Yes, yes, it does.”

“Can I name him?” Seryn asked, tugging on the bottom of Emerie’s jacket.

Emerie nodded at her niece. “Sure, pumpkin. Whatever you think is best.”

“We’re not keeping it,” Gwyn said, putting up a hand. “It belongs to the Clarences, and it’s going back to Fort Lauderdale with them.”

“I knoooow,” Seryn said, but Gwyn wasn’t sure if she entirely understood, what with the way she was looking at the reindeer like it was a new, very permanent member of their family. At least it fit in better without the snow from last week. All of that freak blizzard stuff had melted away over the last few days. It would have seemed like a dream if not for the text message chain between herself and Azriel living in her phone.

Speaking of, according to the last text, he would be showing up any minute now. She had said she could pick him up at the nearest airport, but he had said he didn’t want to impose. Gwyn had responded that he just wanted to rent a fancy-smancy sports car, to which he had sent back the rental info for a nice practical hybrid.

Emerie and Nesta had also been texting her almost constantly through their group chat for the past week. It was always lively, but this week they had been testing the reality of “unlimited messaging.” She had met both of them back in college, when she and Nesta had been roommates and Emerie had been their suitemate. Emerie had a roommate, but the roomie had moved in with her partner halfway through the second week of school and never really came back. The trio had become inseparable. After Cat died, Emerie had moved to Holly Hill and bought the old hardware store so she could help Gwyn with the B&B and raising Seryn. Gwyn knew she could never express how grateful she was to Emerie.

Emerie rolled her shoulders and stretched one arm over her head. “So, when’s Broody Bass Boy getting here again?”

She must’ve been reading Gwyn’s mind. “Soon. Are you staying as a bodyguard or…?”

Emerie shrugged. “Nah, I know you can handle it. You’re all grown up.” Her slight smile turned sharp. “But remember, I’m a text away and have an entire store filled with chainsaws and axes and hammers. I’ll be here in ten minutes with a pick-up and a shovel.”

“This isn’t a Goodbye Earl situation,” Gwyn said, grinning at her friend’s casual willingness to commit crimes for her and Seryn.

“Who’s Earl?” Seryn asked. She was currently eyeing the reindeer like she was planning how to climb up onto its back. Gwyn reached over, put her hands on Seryn’s shoulders, and hauled her over to wrap her up in a hug, kissing the top of her head with quick playful smacks.

“Nobody you need to worry about,” Gwyn said as Seryn protested and giggled at the same time.

“You could name the reindeer Earl,” Emerie suggested.

“No, I don’t like that name very much.”

With a couple hugs all around and more promises of quick texts if things somehow went south (they wouldn’t), Emerie left and Gwyn and Seryn went back inside. The four guest rooms were rented out for the week, but most of the visitors were out for the day. The only meal served at the house was breakfast, so their guests either had to go to town for dinner or get delivery for lunch and dinner.

In the living room, Mr. Clarence and Mrs. Clarence were sitting on the loveseat by the window, both of them reading. They were an older retired couple who visited Holly Hill once a year to celebrate their holiday anniversary; their wedding had been on Christmas almost fifty years ago, though they had only been coming to Holly Hill for the last four. They liked the festive atmosphere, as Mrs. Clarence put it.

“Mr. Clarence, Emerie delivered your reindeer,” Gwyn said as Seryn dashed past, heading up the stairs. “It’s out front.”

He lifted his head and smiled before patting Mrs. Clarence on the leg. “Did you hear that, Lottie?”

“Hmm?”

“Our reindeer is here.”

“Oh no, dearest, that’s your reindeer, like Ms. Berdara said,” Mrs. Clarence said, not looking up from her book. She turned the page. “And I’ve not got the faintest idea how you’re getting it home.”

He smirked, and he looked a decade younger. “That’s why the car has a top on it. We’ll strap it down.”

Now Mrs. Clarence looked up, nostrils flaring. Gwyn started up the stairs, hiding a smile as the older woman began to pop off, the two of them playfully bickering over the audacious statue. Fifty years was such a long time to be in love. She had heard some of their story, and she knew their life hadn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. They had gone through tough patches and they had even separated for a few months once when they were a lot younger, but with a lot of work they had wound up staying together.

She had just reached the door of the attic apartment when her phone buzzed.

Azriel: Berdara, why is there a fruit basket reindeer in your yard?

Laughing, Gwyn opened the door and leaned into the apartment. “Seryn, Azriel’s here.”

Seryn had been unpacking her backpack, but she immediately abandoned it. She dropped her stuff on the table and flew over to the living room. “Where’s my list?”

The List of Fun Things to Do With Azriel was something Seryn had been working on all week. Once the guys had left, she had found a legal pad and asked Gwyn to write down her ideas since she couldn’t actually write just yet. She did add her own doodles to the list, illustrating the ideas. A lot of them revolved around the town but some of them were easier, like watching a certain movie and cupcake baking and feeding the Tanakas’ mini horses and decorating the main Christmas tree. Which, actually, they would need to go pick that up in town that week.

“The list is on the fridge, but how about we let him get in the door first?” Gwyn said.

Seryn nodded and grabbed Gwyn’s hand. “How long’s he staying again?”

“A month or so.”

“That’s forever. I like it.”

It wouldn’t feel like forever. At some point during that month, they would need to tell Seryn, right? Gwyn’s heart raced at the idea. Part of her wanted to do it, and the other part…it had been the two of them with only Emerie and Nesta and Cassian to help for so long. That whole time she had told herself the narrative that Azriel didn’t want kids. Switching the story was going to take a little while. But she knew she needed to…

By the time they reached the first floor again, Gwyn noticed the Clarences peeking out the window. Mrs. Clarence’s eyes were huge. Gwyn stopped on her way to the door. “Is something wrong with the deer?”

“I don’t mean to be nosy, Ms. Berdara, but isn’t that the bass player from Legends Unwritten taking pictures of our deer?”

Huh. She hadn’t taken Mrs. Clarence as a rock and roll fan, but she shouldn’t have made assumptions. Before she could answer, Seryn piped in.

“No, it's not. That’s just Azriel.”

Gwyn ruffled Seryn’s hair. “But Azriel is also in a band, remember?”

“What’s Legends Unwritten?” Mr. Clarence asked.

Mrs. Clarence sighed even though she was still staring out the window. “It’s that band Ryan likes so much. He never stops talking about them. The ones from the Instagrams?”

Mr. Clarence harrumphed. “No, but I guess he can stay as long as he doesn’t mess up my deer or or eat all the bagels at breakfast or anything annoying…” The twinkle in his eyes told Gwyn he was joking.

“Good, I'll let him know since he’s staying here for a while,” Gwyn said. She didn’t feel like giving too much away, but she could see the wheels turning in Mrs. Clarence’s head as she calculated the rooms and the guests. Without waiting for her comments, positive or negative, Gwyn headed to the front door, Seryn jumping ahead.

Seryn grabbed the door and opened it, hanging on the doorknob. “Hi!” As if suddenly shy, she darted behind Gwyn.

Azriel had parked his car over near Gwyn’s, apart from the guest lot. He had a duffle bag in one hand and an acoustic guitar case in the other. His bass had been left at home, it seemed. He had on a navy blue Henley and black jeans and boots, and his hair was rumpled from the flight. The sunglasses on top of his head had probably lent him some anonymity at the airport.

“Hey, Seryn,” Azriel said, offering her a smile that he also extended to Gwyn. “Did you think the yard needed some extra color?” He looked over at the fiberglass deer.

Telling herself to calm down, Gwyn grinned back. “No polite hello? Just sarcastic comments about my hideous new statue?”

“It’s not ours,” Seryn said, shooting Gwyn a confused frown. Gwyn smoothed her daughter's hair back from her face.

Azriel inclined his head toward Gwyn. “Apologies. Hello, Gwyneth.”

Something about the way he rumbled her name—

“Do I get to come in…?”

Seryn darted back out and grabbed the cuff of his right sleeve. “Yes! We got you a mattress. It’s made of plastic and air and it’s extra big ‘cause you’re so really tall and it’s not too bouncy, and it doesn’t leak. And we got blue duck tape in case it does. Mommy says your favorite color is blue.”

“She’s right about that.” Azriel looked at Seryn like she was a treasure he had spent forever looking for as she unceremoniously dragged him into the house.

Take a deep breath, Berdara. She brushed her hand over the garland on the ladder as the phone in pocket buzzed. Probably Emerie or Nesta or both checking in. Maybe Cassian.

Gwyn tried to squash each of the warm feelings she was trying to not acknowledge as she followed Azriel and Seryn back into the Bed & Breakfast. She was prepared for this. Totally.

Chapter Text

“And this is the street and the coffee café. And my dance place is over there—”

“And that’s the road that you’re about to wander into,” Gwyn said, reaching out and catching Seryn by the hand she was using to point at everything she wanted Azriel to see.

Azriel had been a split second from grabbing the back of Seryn’s jacket to pull her away from the crosswalk. She was so intent on showing him everything that she hadn’t been paying attention to where she was going. He let his arm drop from where it had been extended toward her.

After he had taken his bags upstairs to Gwyn and Seryn’s attic apartment and fueled up on cold brew coffee from the fridge, Gwyn had suggested they head into town if he didn’t want to rest after the flight. Azriel was too amped to rest. He didn’t need it. He had spent the entire week getting ready for this visit, anticipating spending time with Seryn and Gwyn. So he agreed to a visit to what Cassian kept calling “the Town Christmas Threw Up On.” They were going to have dinner at a popular diner in Holly Hill, but she and Seryn decided he needed something of a mini tour so he could get his bearings.

Gently, Gwyn tugged Seryn over so that she was between her and Azriel. Secure. Safe. Seyrn puffed her cheeks out then pressed her face against Gwyn’s side, hugging her around the waist even as they started walking as the light changed. Gwyn did her best to walk straight with her child-sized attachment.

“They decorate fast around here,” Azriel said, looking up at the reindeer strung across the street, complete with a sleigh sitting on one of the roofs. It reminded him of that one long, slightly boring but whimsical Christmas movie about Prancer that always made Cassian pretend he wasn’t crying. Rhys and Azriel had teased him for a couple years until realizing that maybe he felt a certain kind of way about it because the girl in the movie had lost her mom and was dealing with the loss. They never teased him about it again.

“Like I said, they start the day after Thanksgiving and they’re finished like a day or two later. It’s basically what Disney World does but town-sized,” Gwyn said. She quirked a teasing eyebrow at him. “Did you think I was lying?”

“No. Just exaggerating.”

Gwyn rubbed her hand across Seryn’s back as they reached the sidewalk. “Hey, let go and slug this guy’s arm for us.”

Seryn laughed. She let go but instead of attacking, she pulled the hood of her hoodie up over her head. Two little cat ears poked up at the top, black and fuzzy with pale pink centers. She turned and started walking backwards again. “We’ve got lots of stuff here. There’s the snowmen! They’re not real snow. But they’re big. There’re trees. And the other reindeer.”

She spun in a quick, well-balanced circle on the toe of one shoe, agile even when she was being silly. It was easy to see why she was a dancer, and Az was going to see that performance of the Nutcracker that she kept talking about. She had invited him via a text from Gwyn and mentioned it four times already in the short span of time he had been in town.

If Azriel missed it, it would be because he was dead. He had made up his mind.

When she stopped spinning, Seryn pointed to a reindeer statue up ahead. “Mom likes that one best. Come on, you’ve gotta see it.” She grabbed Azriel’s hand and hauled him toward the reindeer while Gwyn stayed at his side.

It was placed on the sidewalk in front of a bookstore. It looked like someone had taken inspiration from the shop for the reindeer. Tiny books were strung like ornaments from its antlers. Against its solid cream coat, someone had painstakingly written hundreds of quotes from dozens of books in brown paint to mimic fur. The harness was brassy and designed to look antique. There were markings on it, four socks around its hooves and a stripe on its nose that were collages of art from classic literature.

He recognized them because of the books he had read when he was an older kid, out of his biological father’s house and safe at Rhys’ home. The Velveteen Rabbit, however, he knew because it was a book his mom had been able to sneak to him one of the few times his gene donor had allowed her to visit.

Azriel nodded. “Yeah, this makes sense.”

“Why do you say that?” Gwyn asked. She turned from where she and Seryn had been checking out the new books in the window display. On theme for the town, it was decorated like a ski resort, with books skiing or snowboarding or sledding down a makeshift mountain.

“It’s…very you.”

Gwyn stuck her hands in her jacket pockets. “Meaning it’s creative and extremely awesome and smart, in both the book way and street way?”

“Yes. And it likes hanging things up for decoration,” Azriel said, pointing at the books dangling from the antlers.

Seryn giggled and moved back toward him. “Like the wreaths and the bows at home.”

“And the garland,” Azriel added.

“And the lights. So many lights. Everywhere.”

Gwyn laughed. “Stop ganging up on me, I can’t take it,” she said, “My feelings, they hurt.” She made a dramatic ‘death gag’ noise and put her hand over her heart and jokingly staggered over to the reindeer. She wrapped one arm over its back. “Book Reindeer, you’re the only one who understands me. Why are they so cruel?”

Azriel smirked at her antics. The way she grinned, bright and unrestrained, and how she threw herself totally into teasing them made part of him want to join in. That was a rare feeling. He scratched his fingertips across the reindeer’s striped nose. “Too late, Berdara. Book Reindeer joined our side.”

“What?!”

Seryn patted Gwyn’s leg. “You can have the Theatre Reindeer.”

Gwyn draped herself further across the reindeer statue. “That’s a decent runner-up if I can’t have the support of Book Reindeer. The traitor.”

“What’s the Theatre Reindeer?” Azriel asked.

Gwyn peeled herself off the bookstore reindeer and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Now you’ve done it.”

“To the Hillside!” Seryn said, twirling and moving ahead of them. “It’s where the Nutcracker’s going to be.”

“And next year too, if I have anything to say,” Gwyn mumbled. She looped her arm through Azriel’s, and while he hadn’t been expecting the close contact, he enjoyed it. Especially the way her hip kept brushing against his thigh

“Is it going away?” Azriel asked, setting his pace by hers so he didn’t drag her along. Gwyn was tall, but he was still taller with longer legs. If he set the pace, she would have to speed to keep up.

“I just said I was going to do something about it,” Gwyn said, “So nope. It’s staying in town forever.”

“Bryce says Mr. Regulus wants to crush it ‘cause he’s the worst,” Seryn said, dropping back to walk beside Gwyn. “And she also called him an ass—”

“Oh wow,” Gwyn interrupted, “I might need to talk to Bryce.”

“Who’s that?” Azriel asked, wondering who was teaching his kid to curse. That should be his job, eventually. Not that he had known he had one—

“My dance teacher,” Seryn said, “She’s got an antique store, too. It’s got a reindeer. And Hunt is her husband, he’s huge, like you. Talon’s in my class at school.”

“Talon is Bryce and Hunt’s son,” Gwyn explained, “They’re good friends.”

“He’s got a little sister.” Seryn sighed. “Must be nice.”

Azriel almost stopped walking at that random wish.

“You’re very chatty tonight,” Gwyn said, fluffing Seryn’s black ponytail.

Seryn shrugged. “Azriel needs to know stuff.” She raced ahead against to look at another reindeer coming up. This one was themed with snowflakes and ice, making it look like it had been attacked by the Snow Miser from that another Christmas movie he and Cass and Rhys had watched a lot as kids.

Azriel had never bothered watching many Christmas movies as an adult, except the ones he had watched with Rhodes and Nyx. Also the annual Rudolph viewing at his mother’s house. She had said she would be fine with Azriel missing Christmas this year as long as he swore to ask Gwyn if she could meet Seryn once Gwyn was ready for her to know who Azriel was. Mairin was going to love her granddaughter so much. Vanora, Rhys’ mom, would too.  

“She must really like you,” Gwyn said quietly, slipping her arm free. He wanted it back in place, but he wasn’t going to say it. “I thought it was because Cassian was around that she was talkative with you and Rhys, but apparently not.”

Azriel was quiet. “Does she not talk a lot?”

“To people she knows and likes, sure she does,” Gwyn said, “I mean, she’s not super shy or anything, but she can be a little reserved until she gets know someone.” She glanced up at him, her teal eyes catching the light of the sunset. He could see that something was on the tip of her tongue but she only smiled and kept walking.

When they stopped again, it was in front of an old school theater with a big pale yellow-gold marquee declaring that they were showing “Scrooged” on Saturday and “Home Alone” on Sunday. There were red curtains in the box office window and posters on the walls of past and future shows.

“Mom sings here sometimes,” Seryn said, “And we do plays and dances and things.”

Azriel looked down at Gwyn. “When are you singing again?”

Gwyn made a face. “Telling everything!” she said to Seryn with a wide-eyed smile. “Gosh, I can’t keep any secrets.” Except she could. As if realizing her error, Gwyn bushed and turned to a cork board covered in smaller flyers. “I’m not sure. I was thinking of signing up for the fundraiser,” she said, pulling off one of the flyers and handing it to him.

The flyer was all about “Saving the Hillside,” which was in danger of being bought and bulldozed to put up a Dollar General by some business owner in town with the last name Regulus. There was going to be a big fundraiser evening a few days before the Nutcracker performance. People were encouraged to either donate items or services for a silent auction or sign up for the variety show.

“Do you think you’ll raise enough?” Azriel said. “It’s a big goal.”

“You keep doubting me,” Gwyn said. "Rude."

Azriel folded up the flyer and tucked it into his pocket, an idea forming in the back of his mind. He would have to talk to Rhys and Cassian first and try to figure out what their big secret plans were. They were hiding something from him, he was sure of it. Honestly, he had a guess about their plans. He was just expecting them to tell him first before they followed through with it.

“Over here!” Seryn called, gesturing to the closest reindeer. “It’s the Theatre Deer, he’s got Nutcracker stuff on him, he’s so neat.”

Gwyn slapped her hand against a fundraiser flyer still on the cork board and then pointed at Azriel, stubborn willpower fiery in her teal eyes. “We’re saving the theatre. And now you’re on the team.”

Azriel was fine with that. It lined up perfecting with his idea. “Does this team have a name?”

“Sure,” Gwyn said, leaning in toward him conspiratorially. “Team Save the Hillside from Regulus the Asshat.”

“Hat? That was the end of it?” Azriel laughed. “I was sure it was going to be hole.”

“It’s hat, believe me,” Gwyn said. He watched her copper hair sway as she walked away from him, and he found himself unable to look at anything besides her and their daughter as Gwyn wrapped Seryn in a hug and kissed the top of her head.  

Chapter Text

Dinner wasn’t awkward. Which was saying something since Gwyn had been worried about that. Shouldn’t having dinner with your kindergartener and the dad that kindergartener didn’t know about be awkward by default?

But sitting in O’Henry’s and eating comfort food (aka rodeo burgers) while Seryn and Azriel argued over what they should play on the miniature tabletop jukebox had felt so right it was scary. It was like a snapshot of a life that could have been. Could still be?

Gwyn would be lying if she hadn’t given it some thought during the week Azriel was away, but she had to be practical. He was a rockstar. She was the owner of a bed and breakfast, living out the dream Catrin hadn’t been able to. The long-distance relationship it would require…and it was a miracle that no one had asked for a selfie or live with him in the restaurant. A few people did stare, but they must have convinced themselves they were seeing things.

After finishing up dinner with molten lava cake and ice cream, they headed home, letting Azriel drive so he could get used to the town. They had taken Gwyn’s car to town. Azriel had to adjust the wheel and the seat to fit in the driver’s seat and there was a little more arguing about what music they should play on the drive. Gwyn put on her own mix.

“Wait!” Seryn piped up at the edge of town. “Wait, can we go see the Halloween House?”

“Can’t we go a different day?” Gwyn asked, turning to look at her daughter. She knew the Halloween House was on Seryn’s list of Things to Do With Azriel, but they had already marked a few items off the list that evening. Also, Gwyn needed to go back and read her emails and glance at the reservation site and check on the guests.

“But it’s night now,” Seryn said, “It’s best in the dark.”

“Another night, then?”

“Mom…Az will like it…”

Azriel stayed silent but looked like he wanted to cave. Gwyn guessed he was staying quiet so it didn’t seem like he was siding with Seryn to win her approval or gain her love. He didn’t realize that she was already awfully fond of him. He glanced over at Gwyn and lifted his eyebrows. All right, so he definitely wanted to let Seryn have her way this time, and it wasn’t that far to go from where they were. They had time.

Gwyn smiled over her shoulder at Seryn. “Well, I guess you should ask him since he’s the one driving.”

“Azriel! Can we go to the Halloween House?” Seryn asked, “It’s not scary, it’s—you’ll really like it.”

“Sounds interesting. Why do you think I’ll like it?”

“Mom said you’ve got bats. It’s got bats too.”

“That’s not what—” Gwyn rubbed a hand down her face, feeling the confused amusement coming from Azriel like he was beaming vibes at her. He did sort of have bats! Bats were found in most of Legends Written’s band merch and their fan base called themselves Batties. Rhys had explained it to her once a long time ago, it had something to do with about they wanted freedom symbolized as flight but they didn’t want birds so they wound up with bats. Gwyn had been pretty drunk on jello shots and jungle juice during the explanation. “I told her your band’s logo had bats in it.”

“Like Batman,” Seryn whispered, intensely serious.

Azriel gave a quiet laugh. “I only hope to be as cool as Batman. But yeah, let’s go see this Halloween House. Is Halloween legal here?”

“We celebrate all holidays,” Gwyn protested. “It’s just the winter ones get a little more focus.”

“But you’re Christmas-obsessed.”

“I like Halloween too, it’s very cozy, and I like some horror movies,” Gwyn said. Not all of them, but some, sure. “Emerie, Nesta, and I have a Practical Magic watch party every year, thank you, very much. Now turn left at the light.”

Azriel smirked and followed her directions. The car wound through the outskirts of town, moving out to streets were there were no stoplights. Most people already had their Christmas or wintery decorations up. Not everyone would participate anyways, and that was fine. No one was going to run anyone out of town or shun them for not decorating, though there had been a conspiracy podcast episode floating around out there about it. It wasn’t someone from their town, just a podcaster who had heard about them and visited.

It was easy to recognize the Halloween House once you were on the right street. Amongst all the red and green decor, the Halloween House sat in stately black and charcoal gray, the windows lit by jack-o-lanterns and electric candles. More electric candles hung from the trees along with bats of various sizes. Orange and purple light nets were wrapped around some of the bushes. Ghostly dancers lit light blue waltzed under the sprawling twisted branches of an ancient tree that looked like it might belong in a Southern Gothic novel. Real pumpkins still sat on the steps up to the massive wraparound porch. Fake tombstones with puns on them were driven into the yard. A skeleton dressed like an old man sat in a rocking chair on the porch.

Gwyn picked up her phone and changed the Spotify list. The Ghostbusters theme song flowed out of the speakers.

Azriel leaned over to get a better look at the house, moving into her space. His shampoo smelled like cedar and mist and his hair was shiny and thick and she remembered how it felt when she ran her fingers through it— “Explain.”

“It’s the Halloween House,” Seryn said. She drew a pumpkin with her finger on the window of the car and hummed along with the song.

Azriel smiled. “But why…”

“Eloise has lived in town since she was a little girl. Halloween is her favorite holiday, and she’s always asking the town council to rename Holly Hill into Haunting Hill,” Gwyn said, trying not to focus on his hair. The house, she could look at the house too. Eloise had shown up at some of the town meetings just to watch the shenanigans and also to fight for the public library that one time. “She sends us all a petition once a year.”

“She’s got the best candy apples,” Seryn said wistfully.

“The dancing ghosts are a nice touch,” he said, nodding to tree they were attached to.

“They’re made of chicken wire,” Gwyn said. Eloise had told her all about them one day at the farmers market.

Seryn finished her pumpkin, giving him a one-toothed grin. “You like it, Az?”

“Your drawing or the house?” Azriel asked, turning toward her, “Because I like both. Thanks for suggesting this.”

“I knew it,” Seryn said, satisfied. She nestled back against the car seat and tried to add a bat to her window drawing.

Azriel leaned back and let the song finish before he drove off. Gwyn kept the Halloween playlist going as she directed him back to the road out of town. They made their way back to the bed and breakfast with Monster Mash, Thriller, and other spooky favorites playing in the background.

When they pulled into the driveway, Gwyn noted that almost all the guest cars were back. She only had one message on the app asking for extra towels, which she would handle after she took Seryn upstairs. Actually, Seryn had been really quiet.

Glancing into the backseat, Gwyn saw that Seryn had fallen asleep against the door, her hair covering her face.

“I’ll carry her in,” Azriel said. He must’ve noticed the cat nap Seryn was taking as well.

“You don’t have to—”

“I’d like to,” he said, unbuckling his seatbelt. He glanced over at her, eyes asking for permission. In that other life, he wouldn’t have to ask because he always would have been here. Gwyn nodded.

Seryn didn’t really wake up as Azriel lifted her, only shifting to loop her arms around his neck, her face burying against his shoulder. Gwyn grabbed her bag and followed them inside. Opening the door, she let Azriel inside. The Clarences had left the living room, but Adam and Olive were there, cozied up on the couch. The Carlsen-Smiths were new guests this year. They seemed nice and entirely infatuated with each other. In any case, they weren’t difficult guests. Adam waved once, and Olive did as well, lifting the phone she was reading off of. Both of them gave Azriel a second glance but didn’t comment.

Seriously, Gwyn didn’t know how he was getting away with his whole incognito but not celebrity deal. Rhysand was the face man of the band, but the whole group was well-known. Maybe everyone was way calmer about famous people than she previously thought.

Once they were upstairs, Azriel set Seryn down inside the attic apartment, and she immediately wandered over to the couch and laid down. Gwyn sat next to her on the couch and pulled off her little blue sneakers as Azriel took up the armchair.

“What can I do?”

Gwyn started to tell him nothing. Then she stopped. Instead, she leaned back and pointed Seryn’s shoe at him. “What are you willing to do?”

Azriel opened his mouth and then closed it, his expression becoming serious. “A lot.”

Gwyn snorted. “So I’ve got this dead body—kidding.” She tossed the shoe onto the floor. “But if you could take three towels down to the Sea Room, that would be helpful. It’s first floor—”

“I know.” Azriel got up.

“What, did you study the bed and breakfast website?” There was a picture walk-through on there...

“Yes. But the location of towels wasn’t listed. Also, we need to talk about your security.”

“You’re so scarily thorough, it’s excellent,” Gwyn said, ignoring the security part. She had a baseball bat named Delilah for that. She rattled off where to find the towels in the supply closet and he headed to the door without any more questions. “You don’t have to—” she started when he reached for the doorknob.

His shoulders tensed. Azriel turned back to her, hand grasping the doorknob. “You’ve got to stop saying that.”

“What? That you don’t have to help?” He didn’t. She didn’t expect him to help her with Seryn or with the bed and breakfast; he was here to get to know Seryn. And she had been doing this mostly on her own for years.

“Yes. I don’t know what to say to convince you that you don’t have to double check, but you don't,” he said, his hold on the doorknob tightening. “Just let me help.”

“Okay, but you don’t owe it to us. But thanks.”

Azriel jerked one quick nod and headed out the door. While he was gone, Gwyn got Seryn up off the couch and ready for bed, guiding her somewhat sleep-walking child around the apartment. Azriel stayed out longer than she expected. Maybe he was mad about the whole helping thing and had gone to call Cassian or Rhys and rant. Gwyn put Seryn to bed and started reading her a storybook, a cute version of the Little Mermaid, no knives or seafoam involved. Somewhere around the part where the mermaid and her prince kiss, Gwyn drifted off next to Seryn.

For a moment, she woke up as a blanket was pulled over her. Her ponytail was pulled back away from her face, but whoever it was, she trusted this person on a deep level, her barely conscious self not responding to a perceived threat. She threw her arm over Seryn and snuggled her daughter close as the bedroom door closed.

Chapter Text

“Did you leave this out for a reason?”

Azriel looked up from his phone and the pages worth of texts from Rhys (actually they were from Nyx, he had stolen the phone) to find Gwyn coming through the stairway door to the kitchen. She held up the new coffee mug he had set beside the upstairs Keurig. It was black and speckled with teal and silver glaze. The handle was braided. Also, it was very hardy.

“It’s yours. I broke one. I needed to replace it.”

“You could’ve bought one at TJ Maxx,” she said, cradling the new mug with both hands like it was special. “This one had to be expensive.”

“It wasn’t.” It had been free for him.

“Mmm. Looks handmade. I don’t even remember you breaking a mug.”

“It was…a certain morning.”

“Oh, that morning.” Gwyn brought it over and set it next to the bigger coffee pot, which was half-full. Azriel had already had two cups. He needed the caffeine fortification after a sleepless night on the couch. He hadn’t blown up the air mattress; it would have been too loud and woken up Gwyn. And possibly the entire next level of guests. “I guess that was a morning worth breaking mugs over.”

He made a noise of tired agreement. It had upended his reality in the most painful yet also the best way.

“Thank you,” Gwyn said, “It’s beautiful.”

“You’re welcome.” His mother had designed it just for her when Azriel had asked if he could give one to Gwyn. She had made one more mug as well. Azriel nodded toward the coffee pot. “Do you want me to make more?”

“Actually, yes, but let me get some first,” Gwyn said. She rinsed out her new mug and used it right then. After dumping creamer and sugar and milk into the mug, she topped off his coffee as well, finishing off the pot. “I’d better set out breakfast.” She rested a hip against the counter. Gently, Gwyn blew against the coffee, and Azriel found himself trying not to stare at the way she pursed her lips into a perfect little ‘o’. He looked down at his phone as it buzzed continuously.

Cassian: HEY

Cassian: GOOD MORNING PRECIOUS

Cassian: WAKE UP AZ

Cassian: RISE AND TRY TO SHINE WHETHER OR NOTU WANT TO

Cassian: SEIZE THE DAY ASSHOLE

Cassian: ILUVEU MISS U SO MUCH HAVEA GDOOD DAY

Cassian: Sorry, Az, he’s being ridiculous and purposefully annoying. I’m taking his phone now

Cassian: Sugiskrrrrrr

Cassian: We miss you. Tell Gwyn and Ser we said hi and we love them -N

“Can you help me set out the continental stuff? If you’re not busy?” Gwyn seemed to be extending an olive branch after his outburst last night. He hadn’t come here to sit around and be useless. He wanted her to ask him to do things. He wished he could anticipate what she needed and do it before she could even ask.

Azriel set his phone down on the countertop of the island and stood. “I’m not busy. It was just Cassian. And Nesta. She said to tell you and Seryn they said hi.” He left off the last part of Nesta’s text.

Gwyn grinned. “Mm, right, I probably need to wake her up, otherwise she won’t have much time to get ready for school. So. Choose one. Waking up the anti-morning child or prepping breakfast?” She drank some of the coffee-creamer mixture she had created. Maybe she needed the intense sugar rush to get her through the morning.

“I’ll wake Seryn up. Any helpful advice?”

“Beware, she kicks in her sleep. You can use a pillow as a shield. Make sure to shield your face, I know how much you guys rely on your looks.”

“Was that a dig at our music?” Azriel asked.

Gwyn hummed the intro bars to one of Legends Written’s most popular songs, Breathless. It was also one of their earlier his, back when none of them were very good at lyrics. When Azriel didn’t react, she really got into it, putting her mug down so she could headbang and play the air guitar. She was a good mimic of Rhys. Her coppery hair shone in the early morning sunlight. Gwyn leapt straight into the chorus. “Steal the very air from my lungs, thief, take the blood from my veins! Reckless one, I’m all yours, love, you make me breath-less!”

Although when she was goofing off and trying for a tenor, her voice was still spectacular. Smirking, Azriel stood, drained a third of his coffee even though it was hot, and then set the mug back on the counter. “Even if it’s bad, you obviously know all the words.”

“It’s an earworm. Plus they played it every day on the radio for a year, so everyone knows that song,” Gwyn said, “Now go wake up Seryn, pleeease. If you can get her up and moving, she’ll do the rest. Just don’t let her lay back down again. And if her clothes could somewhat match, that would be great.”

Grabbing his phone, Azriel headed toward the door.

“Also, hey you,” Gwyn said, catching his arm as he passed by, “Tonight you actually have to use the air mattress. There’s not a good chiropractor in town, and you don’t fit on the couch. Your poor bones.”

Azriel nodded, feeling each of her fingers against his bicep. “Okay.”

Gwyn let go and lightly smacked him once where she had grabbed him. “You still like everything bagels with plain cream cheese, right?”

Something in his chest glowed at the fact she remembered that after all those years. He managed another nod.

“Good. I’ll toast one for you.”

With a quiet thanks, Azriel made his way upstairs. He didn’t see any guests; it was still early in the morning and the main stairway was preferrable to most of them.

Inside the attic apartment, Azriel searched through his Spotify playlists. There was one specifically for Rhodes and Nyx. He accessed it and pulled up one of the most annoying songs that his nephews loved, especially Rhodes. Turning the volume up on his phone, he knocked once on the door to Seryn’s room and then stepped in, the song playing softly at first but getting louder when Seryn didn’t stir. This was a trick he had learned from Cassian.

“A duck walked up to a lemonade stand—”

Eventually she sat up, eyes still closed. She flopped forward across a few stuffed animals. “Nooo…Uncle Cass, no…”

“Come on, Ser, time to wake up.”

Now her eyes popped open, squinty and disoriented. She sat up again and rubbed her face, a grey rabbit plush tucked into the crook of her arm. “Azriel?”

“Morning, kid,” he said, pausing the song, “You’ve got school.”

With a series of disgruntled mumbles, she shook her head and burrowed back under the covers like a cute mole.

Azriel crossed over to the bed. “Don’t go back to sleep.”

“I don’t want to go to school today,” she said, voice muffled by the blankets, “I’m staying home.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not an option.”

“Is too, you don’t know.”

Picking up a pillow, he gently batted at her. “It’s not.”

Growling, Seryn curled up tighter, turning into a tiny ball beneath the blanket. “Too!”

Azriel picked her up, blanket and all, and then carried her out of her bedroom. She squirmed in the blanket and by the time he carefully dropped her onto the couch, she was halfway out of it. Taking a corner, Azriel worked the blanket back and forth, extricating Seryn even as she tried to pull it back over herself. She alternated between giggles and snarls until she slid off the couch, still stubbornly holding onto one corner of the blanket. Holding the majority, Azriel yanked the blanket one last time, and it popped out of Seryn’s hands. She laid down on the floor.

Azriel smiled. “You really aren’t a morning person.” Neither was he.

“It’s too much early,” Seryn said.

“Mmm, agreed,” he said, “But if you go ahead and get up, I have something for you.” Gwyn's mug wasn’t the only thing he had brought with him.

That got her to perk up. “What is it?”

“Something small,” he said, “Don’t get too excited.”

Seryn got to her feet. “I like small things.” She hurried back to her room, hopefully to get dressed. While she dashed around the apartment brushing her teeth and getting her backpack, Azriel got the little gift out of his bag and put it on the small table.

She was brushing her hair when she noticed the tissue-paper covered bundle. Her teal eyes lit up, so much like Gwyn’s, brimming with anticipation. Looking from him and back to the bundle, she bounced once on her toes. She widened her eyes, silently asking permission, or that’s what he thought.

Azriel nodded.

Seryn was instantly at the table and unwrapping the gift. Instead of tearing it open, she took the tissue paper off carefully and put it to the side. When she got to what was inside, her little gasp was everything. She started to reach for it and then closed her hand. “Is this for me?”

“My mother made it for you,” Azriel said, “Do you like it?”

“It’s so so pretty,” she said, picking up the mug. It was a deep midnight blue with dozens of tiny stars pressed and painted into the clay. The handle was a shooting star and its tail. Seryn’s smile somehow became even brighter when she looked into the mug. “There’s a star inside!” A small yellow star with a smile had been fixed to the inside bottom of the mug.

“She found out your name means star,” Azriel said. He had told her after looking it up, and she had been insistent on making this small mug to go along with the one she had made for Gwyn. “She thought it was a beautiful name.”

“Can I tell her thank you?” Seryn asked, holding the mug in both hands like Gwyn had held hers. “Can you text her? Say I say thank you lots of times, pleeease.”

“I will,” he said.

“And thank you! For bringing it,” she said. Darting over, she nuzzled against him, not letting go of the mug. She spun in a circle. “I want to show Mommy, can we show my mom?”

Azriel inclined his head toward the door and picked up her backpack. Seryn held the mug close and hurried out the door, socks sliding on the hardwood. Finding her shoes, he picked them up and followed after her.

Chapter Text

The first few days of Azriel being at the bed and breakfast flew by like a speed reader going through a choose-your-own-adventure story. It was scary how fast Gwyn grew accustomed to having him around. That made her concerned about Seryn and how happy she was to have him there, but she couldn’t stop her daughter from getting attached; that had been inevitable, anyways, if she was honest with herself.

The mug his mother had made for Seryn, perfect and starry, just like her, had reminded Gwyn that other people wanted to know her daughter, were part of her family. It was overwhelming, but for right now, it was just them in this little bubble.

During the week while she and Seryn had been waiting for him to come back, Gwyn had worried about what the days would look like when Ser was at school and the two of them were at home. The truth was, there were so many B&B guests coming and going that she didn’t have time to fret about entertaining him. For Azriel’s part, he lent a hand whenever she would let him and when she wouldn’t, he would still find ways to be useful. He chopped wood, repaired loose shingles, nailed down a board she had been meaning to get to on the front porch, cleaned the windows.

Right now, Azriel was fixing a window where the slide-y part that allowed her to lift the window had broken. One of the guests, a big burly tough guest named Kaan had yanked it open a little too hard while trying to cool off the bedroom for his wife Raeve. He had been very apologetic and offered to fix it, but Azriel had said he could do it so they could enjoy their vacation.

While they were off chopping down a Christmas tree, Azriel was fixing the window. Gwyn was putting up some new Christmas decorations in the room while he worked. While most of the decorating had been finished during the Snowed In Weekend of Chaos and Secrets, she kept finding boxes she had staffed in various closets. This was the Snow Room during Christmas; therefore, she was hanging up some snowflake art on the wall.

“Do you moonlight as a handyman when you’re not playing to sold out stadiums?” she asked him as she straightened one tilted snowflake picture.

“Yes,” he said dryly. “I put up Craigslist ads in each city we stop at. That’s how we pay for the gas on the bus.”

Gwyn grinned. She picked up another snowflake decoration, a delicate glass artwork her cousin had made in the glass shop he worked at. She had always thought that Eris would be a neurosurgeon or the CEO of a big company or a lawyer, but he had fallen for a writer and dropped off into the arts himself. Granted, he was still not the traditional stereotypical artsy type, running his shop like a small kingdom where his word was law, but it was fun seeing him do something completely unpredictable.

“Who did you apprentice under?” she asked, setting the glass snowflake on the table. It caught the afternoon light and the soft white seemed to glow along the clear edges.

“Rhys’ mom taught me,” Azriel said, tapping a piece of the window frame back into place. “Or I guess we learned together. She hated paying someone else to do what she could figure out herself, so we would watch Youtube videos together.” He slid the window up, testing his work, and then went back to adjust something.

“What about Cassian and Rhys?”

“Rhys always suggested we hire someone, which aggravated Vanora, and Cass was usually the one who had broken whatever it was in the first place.” Azriel picked up a screwdriver. “He wanted to help but Vanora’s said he’d probably break it worse.”

Vanora sounded ferocious. Gwyn hadn’t met her, but she could imagine that she was a tough woman who had a kind heart. She had taken in Azriel and Cassian and raised them like her own.

Azriel tested the window again. This time it slid up and stayed there instead of crashing back down into its resting place. He did it a few more times until he was satisfied.

As he packed up the toolbox, Gwyn finished setting out the last of the snowflake decorations. It was a paper snowflake that hung in the window, very old school and something she and Nesta and Emerie had made when both of them stayed at the B&B one weekend a few years ago. This was the only snowflake from that crafting adventure that was nice enough to hang up. The others had been kindly fed to the downstairs fireplace to put them out of their misery.

“Well, I appreciate that she let you help out,” she said, “But—”

Azriel cut his eyes at her, a clear sign that he didn’t want her to say what he thought she was going to say.

“But you aren’t expected to help out around here,” she continued, not dissuaded by that grouchy glance.

Azriel picked up the toolbox. He had bought it from Emerie’s hardware store and spent time organizing it last week; he apparently was quietly appalled by the state she left her tools in previously. For Gwyn, spending a couple minutes digging through a big canvas bag for a hammer wasn’t a big deal. Az felt otherwise. So now the bag had been switched out for the toolbox, which had more tools than she remembered in it.

Each time she tried to get a good look at it, suspicious that he had bought her new tools, he found some new project to work on and whisked it away. One of these days, she was going to really examine it. Well…there would always be time when he left.

“All right,” Azriel said as they left the room and headed downstairs. “What do you want me to do besides help?”

“I—” Gwyn flopped her braid back over her shoulder. “I’m sure you could find something more fun.”

“Busk downtown?”

“You would make so much money,” she said, flashing a smile at him. “But no. I don’t think you’d think it was fun.”

“Why not.”

“Oddly enough, you don’t like crowds, which is weird, Mr. Superstar Rock-n-Roll Man,” she said. “But you get away with avoiding everyone by being the mysterious base player. However, out on the street, there would be no escape.” She affected an aloof expression as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “I’m afraid you’d become a tourist attraction. You’d pop up on Google Maps.” She trailed a hand in the air like she was putting up a marquee. “Christmas Town’s Very Own Random Rockstar Who Plays Christmas Carols.”

“Who said I was playing Christmas carols?” he asked, taking the toolbox to the supply closet.

Gwyn followed him. “What else are you going to play in Holly Hill during the holiday season?” she asked, “The Imperial March?”

“Geek music has its own audience,” Azriel said, “But I was thinking funeral dirges.”

“Ah, a festive hit for sure.” She loved this side of him, his dry sense of humor that not everyone got to see. Reporters sometimes picked up on it, but they really did prefer to focus on how sexy and quiet he was. Not that Gwyn thought he was sexy. Or she did, but in an objective way. Of course the father of her child was attractive. Seryn was beautiful. They made a very pretty child. That was something objective and true!

She glanced over at him as he put the toolbox in the closet. That black t-shirt he wore was too small. Did he know it was too small? Were his arms that big and defined from playing a bass? Maybe he did moonlight as a handyman. She had some more things he could work on. She remembered the way those big hands of his felt, strong and gentle except when he—

“I, um, I’m going to go fix the shower, I mean take a shower,” she said, backing toward the stairs. The t-shirt was taut across his pecs as he stood up, his eyebrows lifted as she escaped, practically running up the steps. “I’ll be back later, I forgot, I have to shower before I forget, byeee.”

Oh, this was bad. Cold shower, cold showers fixed everything!

Chapter Text

The Hillside Theater marquee needed some work, but in the daylight, the place still gave off an antique, nostalgic kind of aura. It looked sort of old Hollywood. But also somehow rustic. It would be a shame to see it turned into a kind of convenience store. 

Azriel took a picture of it on his phone and sent it off to the band’s group chat without any description or additional texts. They already knew he wanted them to come play a couple songs here for the talent show. They couldn’t stay at the bed and breakfast but he had suspicion that they had figured out somewhere else to stay in town. He hadn’t told Gwyn yet. They had all said they would come, but Azriel didn’t know how Gwyn would feel about it. Would she mind? He did need to tell her before they showed up and ask if it was really okay with her, since this was really something she cared about. 

He had considered trying to buy the theater on his own and giving it to the town or whoever wanted to own it. Or Gwyn. But he didn’t think Gwyn would like it if he used large chunks of his money to solve her problems. She barely accepted his help when he wanted to clean the dishes.

Expecting her to accept a whole building would be sort of ridiculous.

He had also warned Rhys to not do exactly what he had been thinking since he and Mor had both floated that idea in the group text. Rhys had even suggested a massive bow for the theater. No.

But helping by entering the band into the talent show as an exhibition entry, that would be okay. He thought.

Azriel headed into the building, passing by the empty shiny ticket booth with lowered burgundy curtains in the center of the entrance. The lobby had brick floors and advertisements for upcoming shows and performances, including the talent show. And for the Nutcracker ballet, which was why he had come by today. Seryn’s dance company had moved from their regular studio to practicing in the theater. With the show starting in a couple weeks for one busy weekend, the company wanted as much experience with the stage they would be using as possible. Some guests were checking in at an unexpected time due to weather on their end, so Gwyn had asked him to swing by and pick up Seryn.

He slid his sunglasses up onto the top of his head before pushing open the swinging door to the main seating area of the house. So far he had kept a low profile in town. Only a few people had recognized him and asked for pictures. Rhys said it was only a matter of time before he wound up on social media, plastered across one of the accounts that kept up with the band’s whereabouts. His absence from home had already been noted, seeing how he hadn’t been spotted with anyone else from the band. People were starting to wonder where he was. 

Instead of traditional Nutcracker songs, that popular upbeat Paul Russell song was playing over the speakers and kids and parents were dancing in all kind of styles on stage and through the aisles. The stage was set up like the throne room from the Nutcracker. But some elementary age kids were playing limbo with a mop. He stuck by the door, wondering if he had somehow gotten the wrong theater.

“Can I help you?”

Azriel glanced at the guy who was approaching from the sound booth. Shaggy black hair, build like Cassian’s, light brown skin, dark brown eyes, dark grey t-shirt, suspicious frown. Almost Azriel’s height. 

“I’m picking up Seryn for Gwyn.”

“You’re not on the list,” the guy said, his frown deepening. Behind him in the sound booth, two other guys, a redhead with headphones on and a smirking brunette, were also watching. 

Instead of being irritated, Azriel appreciated how not just anyone could walk in and pick up a kid. “I can get Gwyn to call you.” 

“Do that.” 

The man crossed his arms over his chest as Azriel took his phone out, not dropping eye contact. He didn’t get the chance to text Gwyn though as Seryn came flying up the aisle at him, weaving around other dancers. 

She collided with his side, her hair falling out of the bun someone had put it up in. Her black leotard had a flowy skirt and her ballet shoes were pale pink. She hugged him then smiled at the dark-haired guy before tugging on Azriel’s hand. “When’d you get here? Did you see it?”

“No, I’m sorry, your mom got caught up at the last minute and sent me,” Azriel said.

“Next time,” she said, “I’m in the party scene too, I just got in it, ‘cause I’m little.”

“I’ll get here earlier.”

“Lots earlier,” Seryn said with a quick smile. 

“You still need to get Gwyn to call or text me or Bryce or Juniper before you take Seryn,” the dark-haired theater security guard or whatever he was said. 

Okay, so he actually was sort of annoying. Still, Azriel couldn’t definitely fault him for being protective over the kids. He lifted his phone again. 

“Are we not going to talk about how that’s the bass player for Legends Written? Or are we ignoring that part?” the brunette in the booth said loudly. 

“He’s got a name, Flynn,” Seryn said, tossing a little sharp glare his way. “It’s Azriel.”

“My deepest, most sincere apologies,” the brunette said with cheerful sarcasm, earning him a scowl from Azriel. Seryn gave an exaggerated huff of exasperation. Azriel’s mouth tugged up in an approving smile.

“He’s also got a Wikipedia page, which is more than the rest of us,” the redhead added. He fiddled with the sound board. A new peppy fast song flooded the theater, and Seryn took off back down the aisle to start dancing again with a group of kids around her own age. 

Gwyn answered the phone call after two rings. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, they just want to make sure I’m not a kidnapper,” Azriel said. The redhead grinned while the brunette snorted. The security guy’s expression didn’t change.

“Oh my god, I forgot to text Bryce and let her know. Sorry, Az! My brain is all over the place.” Gwyn sighed. “Is Hunt giving you a hard time?”

“It’s all right,” Azriel said, looking at the guy he thought was most likely Hunt. “I’m going to pass the phone to him.”

“I’ll tell him you’re not awful,” Gwyn said, “And don’t worry, he’s grumpy with everyone at first. It’s not just you.”

Azriel wasn’t worried, but he didn’t tell Gwyn that. He handed over the phone. Hunt gave him a hard frown and moved away, like Azriel would eavesdrop on the conversation.

“Hey, are you hiding at the bed and breakfast from some kind of scandal?” Flynn asked. He was spinning a pen around his fingers, his boots now up on the only clear section of the counter space. The redhead smacked his ankle. “Think the gossip channels won’t find you there?”

Azriel didn’t answer him. He didn’t owe this stranger an explanation for why he was in town.

“Running from band drama?” Flynn continued. “Money issues? Are you with a white collar mafia? You look like you could be.”

“Do you ever stop talking?” Azriel asked coldly.

Flynn tapped the pen against his chin. “You slept with the wrong guy’s wife. That’s it.”

Azriel bristled, sudden anger burning up under his skin. 

“Look,” the redhead broke, shooting his friend a ‘knock it off’ glance, “We don’t care about you as long as you don’t create problems for Gwyn and Seryn or drag them into the social media circus.” His tone soft and casual but underlined with truth. 

“That part,” Flynn said, pointing the pen at Azriel. “So. Are you a problem creator, Az-ri-el?” He sounded out the syllables of Azriel’s name, being as annoying as possible.

Azriel let all emotions dissipate from his expression as he turned to fully face the brunette. “No.”

“Let’s keep it that way,” Flynn said with dangerous happiness. He tossed the pen into the air. 

When it came back down, the redhead snatched it out of its freefall. “I’m Declan Emmet, by the way, now that we’re off on a terrible first impression.” He tossed the pen back to Flynn. “And this asshole is Tristan Flynn. The other one is Hunt. Then there’s Bryce and Juniper, they run the company, and Ruhn’s around here somewhere doing set construction, he’s the final asshole. Juniper is the only nice one.” He shrugged. “If you’re going to be picking up Seryn regularly, you might as well know our names.”

“Even if we’re not rich and famous,” Flynn said.

“You’re rich,” Declan said incredulously. “You’re a trust fund nepo baby.”

Flynn grinned. “That’s different.”

Azriel would have loved to have left this conversation five minutes ago. He tucked his hands into his jeans pockets, feeling like he had stolen the pose from Rhys. 

Hunt came back over and handed Azriel’s phone back to him. His posture had loosened up somewhat now that he knew Azriel wasn’t a threat. He offered a half-smile. “Gwyn said you’ll be in town for the month. And that you might be interested in helping with the show. Something about how you’re probably bored at the bed and breakfast.”

“The month?” Flynn asked. Declan slapped his arm. “What? That’s a long time.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“It was—”

A shove got him to shut up, at least temporarily, but that last thing Flynn said caught Azriel’s attention. He decided in that moment that he hated Tristan Flynn and that Declan was okay. Hunt was listed as ‘uncertain’ in the rankings. Azriel stared at Flynn but addressed Hunt. “What would you need me to do?”

“Not entirely sure yet, but Bryce will know what to force you into,” Hunt said. The stern set of his face faded into soft affection. There was one of those black rubber rings on his wedding ring finger. “She’ll get your number from Gwyn and assign you something.”

“Good luck,” Declan muttered. He picked up a microphone from the counter and flicked it on. His voice rumbled over the old theater. “Seryn Berdara, march yourself back up here, your ride looks ready to escape.”

Yeah, he liked Declan well enough. 

Seryn hurried back up the aisle, this time talking with a boy who was a few inches taller than her. He looked a lot like a smaller, younger version of Hunt with whiskey-colored eyes and an actual smile. Halting by the last set of seats, he eyed Azriel with a hint of his father’s suspiciousness.

“Bye, Talon,” Seryn called, waving to him as she took Azriel’s hand. 

“Bye, Ser,” the kid said, “See you tomorrow.”

“See you!” she said then looked up at Azriel. “Talon’s in my class. His mom’s making him be the Mouse King.”

“Rat King,” Flynn corrected.

Seryn huffed. “No, Flynn, Bryce said we could call him the Mouse King. Because we’re going to be mice.”

“Yes, yes, fine, Mouseketeer,” he said. “Tell your mom to give me a call sometime? We need to catch up.”

“Fiiiine.”

Azriel glowered at the brunette as Seryn started to pull him toward the door. 

Declan held up both hands. “Flynn, stop stirring the pot. Azriel, we’ll be seeing you.”

“There’s no escape if Bryce finds out you’re available to work,” Hunt added solemnly.

That sounded ominous. Maybe the others wouldn’t be so bad to be around, even if he hadn’t met them all, but Tristan Flynn? 

That guy was on his shit list. 

Chapter Text

“I’m just saying, I wasn’t the one who lost all our money on a doomed sun shade company! It only came in one color, and no one wants lime green.”

“Oh you just had to bring that up again—”

“It was everything! I’ll bring it up ‘til I die then let my kids inherit my rage!”

“You don’t even have kids, Janine.”

“I’m gonna leave these cookies right here…” Gwyn set the tray down on the end table beside the loveseat where the latest arrivals, a trio of blond siblings, were verbally rehashing out wounds. The delayed flight must’ve worn through the last of their nerves because they hadn’t stopped yelling at each other since they stepped through the door. She hoped the herbal tea and cookies either made them happier; if not maybe the chamomile would knock them out. 

Their familial dispute reminded her that she should mention to Azriel soon that if he did wind up sticking around for Christmas, he would find himself surrounded by her family. Not that they fought all the time, just…well, some of them didn’t get along and then one or two just enjoyed creating chaos. He needed some warning now that it seemed like he really did intend to stay. Of course he did. Azriel followed through with things he said. He didn’t just ramble off. He was considerate…

Gwyn headed back to the kitchen to do some cleaning as the siblings continued their post-flight rant. 

During the week around Christmas, her mom’s side of the family would be in and out, most staying for a day or two, others hanging around for a little longer. After her uncle’s somewhat suspicious but quietly celebrated death due to faulty car brakes a couple years ago, her aunt Eurydice had remarried, rekindling a flame with an old ex. The ex was actually her cousin Lucien’s father. Gwyn and Lucien were around the same age, with him being a year older. He would stick around the Bed and Breakfast the longest, with everyone else arriving and leaving at various times. 

There was only one set of visitors would be at the house on Christmas; Sally and Jack Halloway, a middle-aged couple from Death Valley, California, always stayed at the B&B over Christmas. Besides them, Christmas Week was super booked by Vanserras and Spellcleavers. Gwyn didn’t associate with her father’s side of the family, so they weren’t in the picture. He had never been in the picture either, actually, being a one night stand of her mother’s who wanted nothing to do with kids. She knew deep down that was probably another reason why she had never told Azriel about Seryn; what if the past repeated itself?

She was in the middle of ordering a pizza from town when she heard the front door open, the bell jingling. The arguing didn’t fade at all, the siblings kept up their yelling. Seryn burst into the kitchen just as Gwyn hit the order button.

“I order a large pepperoni and cheese sticks,” she said as Seryn tossed her ballet bag onto the kitchen table and then bumped into her legs for a hug. Gwyn gave her a tight squeeze. “Did you ditch Azriel and walk home? Poor baby, you must be exhausted.” 

“He said he had to call somebody.” Seryn stared up at her. “They are so loud.” 

“Who, the somebody on the phone or the guests?”

“The guest people,” Seryn said, her teal eyes widening. “Are they going to be loud forever?”

“I don’t think so, we have that quiet policy that starts at nine,” Gwyn said. She brushed her fingers through Seryn’s hair. “And if they don’t get it under control soon, I’ll talk to them.”

“Good,” Seryn said. She hugged Gwyn’s legs again then darted over to her bag. “I get to be in the party scene, Juniper said I could walk in with Ruhn and Lidia and Elle, she says there needs to be a couple little kids.” Her nose wrinkled. “I’m not that little but being little is good sometimes. This time.”

“Oh, Bryce wheedled them into doing it again?” Gwyn asked with a grin. “Good for her.” Ruhn, Bryce’s brother, and his wife Lidia had been roped into the party scene of the Nutcracker for the last few years. Their eldest daughter Elle was a year older than Seryn and currently in dance classes, taking both tap and ballet, though Gwyn thought she preferred tap. Gwyn had been in the party scene a couple times; Bryce could be pretty convincing. There was also that time Gwyn had lost a bet during a ring swing game at the local tavern when Seryn was a baby.

Seryn wandered around the kitchen island to the fridge. “Talon and me are really good mice, Mama. He’s the Rat King back-up now. Flynn said to call him. Can I have hot chocolate?”

Gwyn’s attention zeroed in on the middle part of Seryn’s conversation. “What was that about Flynn?”

“He said call him,” Seryn said. She opened the fridge and went up on her tiptoes to get the milk. 

“Where’d you—after dinner, Ser—why was he at rehearsal? And he can call me himself if he wants to talk,” she said, walking over and liberating the milk jug from Seryn’s grabby fingers. “We talked a couple weeks ago.” He had been out of town during the snowstorm on some kind of business trip, but he had texted. Most of the population of Holly Hill had texted each other at some point during and after the storm, except for Regulus and his crowd. 

“I’m just saying what he said.” Seryn’s mouth jerked to the side in a decisive pout as Gwyn put the milk back. “He was working with Dec on the sound. But he gave Azriel this look.” Seryn made a face that was half-smirk, half-arrogance, and coated with subtle suspicion. She had been around Flynn enough that she could copy him pretty well, but the way she mimicked Azriel was the perfected version. As if to prove that point, Seryn’s face became blank with a hint of disdain. “And Azriel looked like this. I don’t think he likes Flynn.” Seryn might look more like her just with her father’s hair color and skin tone but she had inherited a lot of her father’s expressions. “But Hunt was glare-y too.”

“That’s because he thought you were getting kidnapped.” Gwyn put the milk back into the fridge. “I’ll text Flynn so he’ll know you didn’t ignore him.” Might as well. For some reason it felt a little weird texting Flynn when Azriel was here, but she didn’t think it should. She wasn’t dating either of them at the moment. Technically, she hadn’t really dated Azriel. That had been an incredibly intense fling resulting in the best part of her life: their daughter. She was still friends with Flynn. She wasn’t sure what she and Azriel were. Potential co-parents? Her heart twisted, wanting to reach for something else. 

Gwyn tried to mentally swat away her feelings.

“Okay,” Seryn said, interrupting her thoughts, “And hot chocolate?”

“After dinner,” Gwyn repeated, poking her in the side. “Which’ll be here soon, so why don’t you go upstairs? I’ll be up in a minute.”

Seryn grabbed her bag. “If the guests don’t get quiet, can we throw snowballs at them?”

“Nope,” Gwyn said. She opened the back stairwell door. “We didn’t save any this time, and now it’s mostly melted.”

“Dang…” Seryn trudged up the stairs, her ballet bag clunking on each step.  
 
As the door closed, Gwyn tidied the kitchen, putting away plates and utensils and prepping for tomorrow’s continental breakfast. When she was finished and Azriel still hadn’t appeared, she pulled her phone out of her hoodie pocket. 

Gwyn: everything’s fine, Flynn.

Gwyn: shoo

Flynn: can’t blame me for being curious. 

Gwyn: I can totally blame you

Gwyn: busybody

Flynn: OUCH. My feelings.

Flynn: hey it’s not every day we get famous people staying at our local b&b during busy season when every room’s been booked since last Christmas 

Gwyn: like I said, everything’s fine. Also, it’s not really any of your business who stays here.

Flynn: I know

Gwyn: good

Flynn: but if you need us, you can text me, I can pick up Emerie and Hunt and Bryce on the way and be there in minutes.

Gwyn: yeah no, I don’t need you to run him out of town 

Flynn: okay. But just if you need us

Flynn: Emerie has lots of pitchforks at her shop doesn’t she?

Gwyn: Try being nice. For a change.

Flynn: Maybe. Only for you. 

Rolling her eyes at his ridiculousness, Gwyn set the phone on the counter as Azriel walked in. She realized that the argument out in the living room had gone quiet. Judging by frown on his face, Azriel might’ve been the cause of that. 

Gwyn arched her eyebrows at Azriel. “You’re good with pepperoni pizza, right?” 

Azriel nodded, shucking his jacket and scarf and tossing them over a stool. She was sure he was going to offer to pay for his half later, and then they could argue over it. 

“Seryn said you met some people at the theater,” she said, resting her hip against the cabinets. “Hunt, Dec, Flynn?”

She noticed his jaw tighten just a smidge at that last name. Ugh, what had Flynn done to get under his skin? Tristan was so very skilled at being aggravating. His major should have been in Frustration.

“Dec seems like a good guy,” Azriel said, crossing his arms over his chest, “Hunt mentioned that you may have volunteered me to help out with the ballet.”

Gwyn clucked her tongue to the roof of her mouth. “That’s not what I told Bryce.” She should’ve told Azriel first, but she hadn’t thought it would come up so quickly. Then again, she hadn’t even thought he would interact with the theater crowd without her around. “I said I could ask if you wanted to help if they needed help with the show. I didn’t volunteer you.”

“Mmm,” Azriel nodded once. “It looked like they had enough people there. But I’ll go.”

He didn’t sound happy about it. Gwyn put her hands on her hips. “Did Flynn say something to you?”

Azriel’s face perfectly matched the one Seryn had made earlier, that blankness mixed with a tidbit of disdain. “He wanted Seryn to ask you to call him.” 

“I texted him,” she said, not that she owed him the information but she just…wanted him to be aware. “I’m sure he just wanted to annoy you, it’s his thing.”

His jaw ticked. “I don’t think he likes me being here.”

“Yeah, well, he can get bent,” she said. She dragged her fingers through her hair. “You staying at Widdershins doesn’t involve him.”

Azriel’s hazel eyes darkened. “He seemed to think otherwise.”

A flash of irritation went through Gwyn, as well as a slight thrill. Was Azriel jealous? She pushed away from the cabinets and moved toward him. “Seeing how we broke up two years ago, it really doesn’t.” 

“So you two dated.”

“For about a year,” she said, knowing she didn’t owe him details but still offering them because she felt like it, “We’re friends now. Just friends.” Tristan could act like a careless jerk until you got to know him, which Gwyn had after snipping back and forth with him for a year. Behind that rough exterior was a good man, but he didn’t want many people to realize that. He had been great to her and Seryn, but Gwyn had matured and he hadn’t, not as fast as she had at least.

Azriel watched her as she picked up his jacket and scarf. His intense stare made her skin prickle, her neck heating. 

“He’ll push your buttons just to get a reaction,” she said, holding his jacket and scarf out to him, “Flynn’s probably testing your temper.”

“Got it,” Azriel said, a light growl wrapping around his words even as his fingers wrapped around hers. “Sounds like a great guy.”

“Deep down, he is,” Gwyn said. Warmth surged up her hand and arm from where he was holding onto her. She was sure her face was starting to turn red. “You really don’t have to help with the show if you don’t want to. You don’t have to put up with him. Or any of them. I thought I’d get to talk to you about it first—”

“I’m going,” he said, bending down toward her. “I’m not getting chased away.”

Did he mean from the theater or from her? His fingers squeezed hers gently, his hand engulfing hers. She could name each shade of color in his eyes, the flecks of topaz, the dark amber, the flare of brown, bursts of pine green. Gwyn’s lips parted to say she didn’t want to talk about Tristan Flynn anymore, she didn’t really want to talk at all, there were other things they could do—

“Lime green! Lime!”

Gwyn pulled back at that shout from the living room, a startled smile flashing onto her face. She pushed the jacket and scarf into Azriel’s arms. “I better go talk to them. Seryn doesn’t like them fighting, and she’ll give them a piece of her mind if I don’t. Go on upstairs, I’ll be right up when the pizza gets here.”

She didn’t give him time to argue as she sped out of the kitchen. What was she thinking? She didn’t need things between her and Az to get more complicated than they already were.