Xavier reported back to him every night, but it wasn’t the same. He longed to be with her during the day, but he knew now that he couldn’t always have everything he wanted. Not anymore. He refused to leave her at night though, no matter what necessity might arise to draw his attention from her, he wouldn’t leave her side. He’d placed Jack and Gideon in charge of any crisis that arose at night.
For two nights he held her as she lay awake. She remained mute as she stared unseeingly into the darkness, sometimes shedding noiseless tears that broke his heart. In all his years he’d never felt more helpless, not even when Caleb had taken her from him. At least then there had been a plan, there had been a mission, there had been someone to destroy. There was nothing now; there was no one he could protect her from, no way for him to ease her deep heartache.
He didn’t know how to handle grief, he couldn’t beat it, he couldn’t break it, and he certainly couldn’t kill it. All he could do was lay helplessly beside her and hold her as she suffered through the nights. It didn’t help that she wouldn’t talk about it, the mere mention of her father made her flinch; her face would become stony and impassive every time his father or Caleb was brought up.
Finally, last night, something had changed. Long after every one had retreated to sleep, she’d risen from his bed, grabbed a robe and noiselessly padded away. His own exhaustion clung to him as he followed behind her, uncertain of where she was going until she arrived on the first floor. He’d held back, hovering in the doorway as she’d wandered to her father’s side. She stood beside the casket that hid the injury he’d sustained to his shoulder, and the spear hole through the heart that had ultimately been his downfall. Braith was infinitely glad the wounds were hidden as she sat on the stool next to her father, placed her head upon his chest and began to weep more openly than she had for the past three days.
Though he’d yearned to go to her, to hold her, to pull her away, he’d remained unmoving. He sensed instinctively that she was simply seeking a way to heal, a way to say goodbye on her own, and that he didn’t belong here. He’d retreated from the doorway, leaving her within as he settled onto the cold marble floor outside the room and waited for her to come back to him. She didn’t reemerge until the first rays of daylight broke over the horizon.
He’d carried her back to bed, where she’d fallen into a fitful sleep for a few hours; it was far more than the mere minutes at a time that had been claiming her for the past three nights.
Now, on the fourth day, they were burying David. A man, that even he mourned the death of, and not just because of Aria. David been a good man, he’d created an amazing woman; he’d loved his children, and had accomplished so much in his short, mortal lifetime. They’d butted heads over Aria, but it had been because of their mutual love for her, and in the end David had revealed everything he knew. Though none of what David had told them offered any certainty to the questions that Xavier had presented.
Braith kept his arm around her waist, he wasn’t holding her up but he felt it was only a matter of time before he might actually have to. Her brother’s stood beside her, as stalwart as she’d been over the past few days. They’d gone almost woodenly about their days as they helped to oversee the repairs to the worst of the destruction that had been wrought, and the reformation of the new government.
Aria’s skin was unnaturally pale against the black enshrouding her. He kept the umbrella over her head, sheltering her from the steady rain as she pressed closer to his side. Her hair fell forward to shelter her delicate features as she kept her head bowed. Depression had already taken its toll on her. Her collarbone, the bones in her chest, and the back of her hands stood out more. She hadn’t eaten much over the past few days, but Xavier and Max made sure that she was given breakfast and lunch, and he made sure that she at least put some food in her stomach at dinner time. He was concerned about her, but beneath the choking sorrow he knew that she was there, still strong vibrant and very much determined to live.
At least he hoped she was.
The funeral was not like the other human funeral’s he’d witnessed over the years, or even like the more elaborate vampire funerals he’d attended. There was no preacher; instead the people that felt like speaking each took a turn. He’d lost count of the humans that had stepped forward to speak of David, then Jack, and finally Daniel had assumed the spot at the head of the gravesite. Though they wouldn’t actually be buried next to one another, Aria had asked for her mother’s name to be added to the tombstone, and Braith had been more than willing to comply.
Though there were a few times that Daniel’s voice broke, he didn’t cry, and he appeared every bit as strong as the leader he’d just become as he spoke of his father. Beside Aria, William’s fingers twitched, the two of them briefly clasped hands before breaking contact. A single tear slid down her face as Daniel said a final goodbye and stepped away.
Aria’s delicate fingers twirled around the single red rose she held. She stepped forward, momentarily exposed to the rain as she tossed the flower onto the coffin. She was shaking as she stepped back beside him. He ached for her, so much so that he felt her suffering almost as acutely as if it were his own.
He turned her away and walked with her amongst the crush of humans and vampires as they moved away from the woods and back toward the palace. He’d offered to bury their father in the royal cemetery but they’d refused, stating that he would be happier in the woods, and Braith knew they were right.
Once inside the palace he led her toward the stairs. Gideon’s brown hair was still damp from the rain as hurried to catch up with them. “Later Gideon,” Braith informed him briskly.
Gideon looked as if he was going to argue, but he closed his mouth as he met Aria’s haunted gaze. “As soon as you are able it is essential we speak.”
“I’ll be down again in a few hours.”
Gideon nodded and bowed his head as he stepped away. Braith felt the eyes on his back as he led her up the stairs and to the new rooms that he’d claimed for them until his old suite could be restored. He didn’t even know yet if Aria would be willing to stay in the palace, but he wasn’t going to push her on the subject of their future now. They’d speak of it when she was ready.
Once inside the room, he slipped the damp black cloak from her shoulders and tossed it aside. Her arms were chilled and the small blue veins that ran through her pale skin were clearly visible. The marks that his brother and father had inflicted upon her were dark and vivid. His jaw clenched, he wished those marks would fade far quicker than they were. She stood, unmoving before him as his hands briefly traced over her bare shoulders.