Finding Heathcliff

Sixty

"Don't kill him. Don't let anyone else die."

Astrid's unexpected words as soft as breath reached Azrael's ears as he caught her in his arms, preventing her from hitting her ground, and he replied, knowing she wouldn't hear him because the unconsciousness brought on by her wound had already claimed her, "You mustn't worry, think about yourself for once."

He pressed his lips to her temple as he carried her towards the most distant corner of the courtyard and sat down, arranging her body comfortably across his lap, holding her close. There was no one among the present courtiers whom he would know and trust; he couldn't leave her in anyone's care. It meant that he would have to sit out the fight, but, looking back across the courtyard, he noticed that it was over before it had properly started and his help wasn't needed.

After Izar and Rigel attacked Arcturus, who never thought to doubt their blind loyalty, freeing Astrid, and the angels descended from the castle's tall walls, Arcturus' men, finding themselves outnumbered, surrendered. It was all easier than Azrael had expected it to be.

He let his eyes drop to Astrid and smiled; she was healing in front of his very eyes, her angel side proving to be stronger than Azrael had hoped. If only it was strong enough to...

Don't think about that now, and don't give her hopes either. Let us wait and see when she reaches adulthood, and her body stops developing. If she won't start ageing then... Michael's thoughts penetrated his mind.

Azrael nodded, looking up at the archangel. He already knew that they would just have to wait and see. Distracted by a movement, he let his eyes fall on the man suddenly appearing behind Michael.

"I'm sorry," Azrael said, recognising the man. He pulled himself to his feet in a sign of respect but never let go of Astrid; he kept holding her in his arms. "I killed your son. But he had poisoned her, and if her angel side wasn't so strong, she would have died..."

The old man's eyes filled with tears, and he simply nodded, acknowledging Azrael's words. "Let me take you to Deimos and Arabella," he said after a while, looking between the two angels. "I know where they are. I don't expect any of the courtiers and servants to fight you, Arcturus changed a lot in the last years and his... suicidal want of revenge was obvious to most of us. He would have sacrificed the entire country... " Lord Alistair sighed, shaking his head, before he added, "Never mind that now. Take someone with you just in case; the jailor and the guards assigned to the dungeons followed the regent more blindly than the rest of us."

Evangeline and Camael were at their heels the moment the group entered the castle, followed by Ramiel supporting heavily limping Rigel.

"I know the dungeons well, Lord Alistair," Rigel said, squinting with pain each time his injured leg touched the ground. "I can take them there. You don't need to go all the way down..."

"I want to, boy. Why don't you show your friend here where Lady Astrid's chambers are? There's no point in bringing her all the way to the dungeons; she should rest and heal, just like you."

Azrael nodded as he read Michael's approval of the man's words, then smiled at Alistair, even as his thoughts of Arabella reached his mind and he remembered meeting the two in the most improbable places when he had stayed in the castle.

"Thank you, I know my ways around here," he said, taking the first staircase leading to the upper floors and running up, hearing Ramiel and Rigel following him at a much slower pace.

"Am I in Heaven?" Astrid gasped when she woke up the following day, finding Azrael's face filling her entire field of vision.

He chuckled softly and moved closer to kiss her, allowing her to get a glimpse of the familiar canopy of the bed she was lying on before his kiss scattered her thoughts entirely.

"What happened?" she asked, wincing at feeling the pain in her side as Azrael lifted her up gently, propping her up against the pillows. She had been injured... "Is... Arcturus dead?" she whispered, starting to remember.

Sighing, Azrael shook his head. "You didn't want him to die, and Michael respected your wish. But there was no stopping your father from sending him to Hell, Evangeline and Camael escorted him personally. They should be back in a few days."

Astrid closed her eyes briefly, not sure how she felt about this punishment. But there were more pressing matters right now.

"Where's Arabella? And Deimos?"

"They are waiting impatiently for you to wake up, they, and many others. They would be here already if it wasn't for Michael who told them that, knowing you, that you would want a private moment only with me when you woke up."

Astrid giggled, stopping short at the pain reminding her of her injury again, but it didn't stop her from lacing her fingers through her angel's hair and pulling him down for another kiss.

"So he approves of us, like, officially," she said, even as someone knocked on the door and entered without waiting for an invitation.

"You promised you would call us as soon as she's up, Angel of Death, I've been hearing her mind through that door for a while now!" Michael complained as he approached the bed, a stunningly beautiful woman whom Astrid would never recognise as Deimos if it wasn't for that brief vision in the fire, in tow.

"I'll see you later, Astrid," Azrael whispered in her ear and made to stand up, but she pulled him back down.

"Whatever you want to tell me, I want Azrael to hear it too. We don't have secrets," she said, letting her eyes skip from Polaris to Michael and back. These two... were her parents... The thought was incredible.

"But of course," Polaris agreed easily, accepting the place on Astrid's bed, which Azrael freed for her, while he brought two chairs from across the chamber for himself and Michael.

"Are you thirsty? Do you need anything?" Polaris asked, taking Astrid's hands into hers shyly, carefully.

Astrid shook her head, but allowed the woman to keep her hands, mesmerised by the familiarities she started to spot in her face-- she had the same lips as Astrid, her complexion was only a shade brighter, and only because Astrid had spent weeks outdoors, her hair was similar...

"No. Please, let us talk first, I need to know the truth," Astrid said, voice pleading, remembering her childhood when she believed herself an orphan, a nuisance for her uncle who never cared about her, not emotionally.

"I'm sorry," Michael and Polaris said simultaneously as they both read those memories from her head even as they floated to the surface of her mind.

"I did what I believed was the best for you," Polaris added, and as Astrid saw tears glimmer in her eyes, she pulled herself up and wrapped her arm around the woman, inhaling her, hiding her face in her copper curls. This was her mother.

"I believe you. I just want to know how it all happened," she whispered, not trusting her voice as she felt tears welling up in her own eyes.