A Court of Blood and Glory

The End

Now

Mor

I am not afraid of death, not now, because my death will buy Feyre and Amren a chance, buy Prythian a chance, and so I am not afraid of death.
"How stupid of you, Morrigan, to believe that you can defeat me." He still hasn't noticed the Weaver, clawing her way around the corner. "I have the power of the cauldron behind me. You will not win."
"Maybe not me." I said, drawing a blade and readying my magic all the same. "But she can." His eyes widen as he takes in the monster behind me, and I hold my breath as his power fires towards me, engulfing the land around me, giving me no chance to escape it, and blows a hole right through my chest, hitting the Weaver behind me.
I fall, but I feel no pain, not now. Darkness begins to cloud my vision, death racing towards me, but at least I can watch as the Weaver tears off the King's head, before she turns to the soldiers marching up the hill at the sound of the King's screams, and I see her rip into them with ease, tearing her way down the blood soaked hill.
My blood pools around me, and the darkness rushes in all too fast, but I am not afraid, and I don't regret one second of my life, of my death, because I bore the pain so that he didn't have to.
At least my friends will survive, at least Rhys will not have to sacrifice any more. I smile at the thought of Prythian's future, as the darkness claims me once and for all.

Cassian

My wings are ruined, and my strength failing me. The killing power is just embers in my veins, and bodies litter the floor. I look to my right, to where a beast tears his way through the soldiers not fifty metres away, and to my brother to my left, who is also failing to make a dent in the endless army, who cannot shield himself against the blade aimed for his side whilst also defending himself from the front.
He can't, but I can. I deflect the swords aimed for me, every part of my body barking in protest as I move faster than I have before, and I am not afraid as the sword goes straight through my ripped leathers.
Rhys had made me swear that I wouldn't do anything stupid, and I know now, as the life is drawn from me, as Azriel turns to find me there, taking his killing blow, that stupidity was sometimes a good thing.
I fall, the pain too much, and I hear Azriel scream as he sees me go down. To save my family, to save my brother, I would happily give my life.
"Don't do anything stupid." I whisper to Azriel, and I smile at the thought of his future. I don't feel the pain anymore, a bad sign, and I close my eyes. So long as my family is alive, my death is not in vain.

Azriel

He died for me, his body taking the killing blow when nothing else could. A roar shakes the world, a roar so monstrous that the fighting let up as people looked to the source, and I see a mass of power, a monster of power, emerge from the cauldron, racing towards me as I fight. Amren, in her true form.and she is racing right towards me, unaware of who I am. I can't move in time, no one can, as she smashes down on us all, and I feel the life drain from my body as her power consumes me, along with most of Hybern's army.

Feyre

I almost cry out in joy as I see the tides turn, as the High Lords fight back, and as I see my mate tear his way across the field, coming towards me.
Mor isn't back yet, but she is smart, and I have no doubt that she will find a way to survive. I lost sight of Cassian and Azriel moments ago, but Rhys continued to fight, so I assume that they are alive, as he wouldn't leave them dead.
I try to reach him though he bond, but it is still dark, Rhys shutting me out completely so that he doesn't have my thoughts flowing through his when he needs to concentrate. I turn, prepared to skin Tamlin, but I see darkness spread towards me, coming from a crack in the cauldron that had occurred when Amren came out of it.
The darkness gets closer, killing all in its path, spreading in every direction, and I realise that it won't stop until all is dead, because we had broken the cauldron, Amren had taken its power to break the spell on her, and when the cauldron had no power, all that it made would fall apart.
I hadn't realised that the world it created was included in that.
Come here little liar. Give me your power, give me the power of all the High Lords, and help me. I hear the voice of the cauldron clearly in my head, but it begins to fade as the cracks in it spread, the darkness spreading faster and faster.
But I know what I need to do, so I step towards it, holding my hands out to direct the inferno inside me, and I know that I will die, but I am not afraid, because I will die saving my friends, my family, my home, and they can live on without me.
I love you, Prick. Live your life, for me, and tell the others that I am sorry, and that I love them.
I send down the quiet bond as I begin to pour my power away, every last flame and shard of ice, water, light and darkness going to the cauldron, and with it, all that Made me, gave me life, until I had nothing more to give, but the cauldron still took, until my life was gone.
The darkness that rushes in is familiar, a darkness that I saw once before, when death tried to claim me what felt like a lifetime ago, and this time, I step through the door, and I am not looking back.

The Aftermath

Rhysand

Amren had turned the tide of the war, and with that, forfeited her life. I stopped fighting as the last soldier fell, all of Hybern, and most of Prythian's armies, dead at my feet. I turned, expecting to see Cassian and Azriel to my side, but they were not on their feet. No, they were lying, siphons smashed and armour torn. Cassian had a sword running through him, and Azriel, his body peaceful, like so many others that Amren had killed. I sank to my knees, the hard metal of my once beautiful wings beneath me. I didn't care. I didn't care that we had won, that I was wingless once more, that Prythian was safe.
I roared, screamed, cried, looking around for the King, who had not shown once during the battle, needing revenge for the death of my family, but a voice made me pause.
I love you, Prick. Live your life, for me, and tell the others that I am sorry, and that I love them.
Power shot from the top of the hill, power that called to me, and I ran towards it, knowing that my mate was up there, knowing that the cauldron was up there, and the other High Lords followed me, none of us with enough power to winnow, and I had no wings to fly.
I ran over bodies of fallen Illyrians, darkbringers, Peregryns and fae, eventually finding Keir's body amongst the dead. Mor would be pleased, and I had hoped that she was with Feyre, protecting her from wherever she was.
But rage turned to despair as I found the body of my third, a hole in her chest, the Weaver feasting on the bodies of the once mortal queens and the King of Hybern right next to her. I summoned what strength I had left, and killed the Weaver where she sat, unaware of my presence until a sword ran her through. I hacked at her body, severing her limbs and head from her body. I had lost my city, my brothers, my cousin, and my friend. Gone.
But power still speared into the sky, my mate's power still poured out of her.
Feyre. Feyre I'm coming. Nothing, no response. I felt the bond darken, as if something was smothering it, and I began to run, sprint, but I couldn't feel my mate. I dug deep within myself, into the core of magic that was so near depletion it could be fatal to draw on, and winnowed to the top of the hill as the power stopped pouring out into the world.
And I saw Tamlin, unconscious.
I saw the cauldron, humming with power.
And I saw my mate. Dead.
Dead dead dead dead dead dead.
She couldn't be dead. She couldn't. She was my mate, and we were supposed to live our lives in Velaris, surrounded by our family, and rule the Night Court side by side, with peace after the war. I was a fool, a stupid, blind fool that could have done so much more to save their mate.
I sank to my knees, cradling her head in my lap, but the tears refused to flow. I was empty, numb, as if half of me was missing, because half of me always belonged to her.
And she was dead.
It could have been minutes, it could have been hours, but the High Lords finally came to the crest, finding me crouched over my mate. Helion covered his mouth, realising what he was seeing, and I looked back to them, as if they would tell me that I was imagining the whole affair.
But they didn't.
"Bring her back." I whispered, remembering when they Made her. "Bring her back!" I roared, and Kallias took a step away from me. "Please." I said my voice cracking as the tears finally fell down my face.
Too many. I had lost too many.
And they knew it. Helion stepped forward first, and dropped a small kernel of his power onto my mate. Kallias followed, Tarquin, Thesan and Eris too, who had finally made it there, also giving Feyre their power.
Finally, only Tamlin and I remained, and I dove into the High Lord's mind, waking him up immediately. Tamlin took us in, shifting into his beast form, but soon shifted back into fae when he realised that we weren't there to attack him, to kill him, even though I wanted to do so.
"Please." I said, and he looked to the body of my mate, his once wife to be, before back to me, to the sorrow in my eyes.
"No." He said, and winnowed away, leaving me dumbstruck on the ground.
No. That one word clashed through my head. No.
No. If Tamlin didn't willingly give Feyre his power willingly, she would not come back. I didn't want to live in a world without my family, without my city, without my mate, and no one tried to stop me as I picked up a knife, as I held it to my heart, no one except Feyre, whose bargain was inked onto my flesh, a bargain that she made to keep me alive, a bargain that became my curse, not letting me die.
Live your life.
So I lived, but it wasn't a life.