Chapter 27

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

GRIMM

H e was more nervous than the first time he'd married her.

"Cold feet?" Gaius teased him, punching his shoulder with a grin. So many thoughts assaulted him as he regarded his friend, his brother.

"I wish we'd had just one more carefree Summer," Grimm said instead of answering him. "One more Summer of campfires and laughter, not a care in all the realms."

Gaius' smile didn't falter, and it broke Grimm's heart. "I have to believe we will again. Isn't that why we've done all of this? For simple Summers and freedom? We're so close."

Grimm pushed away the emotions threatening to cave in his chest like a cadaver's, reaching forward to grasp Gaius by the shoulders. He pulled him in for a quick embrace. "And we shall succeed, my friend."

Gaius broke away. "Your sister has requested an audience with you before we begin. I'll send her in."

"Gaius." His friend looked over his shoulder, almost to the door. "If it's her that you've chosen, promise me you'll let her know. Promise me you won't let anything happen to her."

Grimm watched Gaius' head cock, then he nodded, his throat bobbing. "I promise."

Arielle was laughing when she came into the cramped room meant for storing all of Agatha's potions. His sister's countenance was lighter than air. The door clicked shut behind her, and her smile remained, though it changed, and he realised it was Gaius who'd caused that smile when he'd left the room and sent her in.

"My brother the god," Arielle teased.

Grimm chuckled "My sister the Death Seer."

She walked forward and threw her arms around his waist, her head tucked against his breastbone. Immediately, he folded his arms around her, squeezing too tightly.

"I remember some of our lives as siblings now."

Arielle pulled back, reaching up to straighten his cravat perfectly by her senses alone. "Anything of note?"

"You've always been a delightful pain in my arse."

She laughed, swatting at his chest. "You're lucky you're about to marry an incredible witch in that waistcoat or I would have punched you in your gut and wrinkled it all to Hades."

Pushing her playfully, Grimm laughed. "You're about as terrifying as a rabbit."

"What better creature to feign sweetness, then turn around and bite you?" She made a little show of snapping her teeth.

"Gods, you've spent too much time with Sorscha. "

"Isn't it strange to curse your own likeness?"

Grimm screwed up his face, not registering what she meant, and Arielle sighed as she sensed his confusion.

"You just cursed. Gods . Isn't that a bit unnatural now that you know what you are?"

"I would say it's less offensive, I suppose, using one's own title as a swear." He shrugged. "I'm not exactly a god right now, anyway."

"Right. Well, if I have to censor my speech in your holy presence, please let me know now before I offend you and all your ilk." She smiled wide and made for the door. "It's almost time. I'm supposed to help Sorscha with some things before we begin. I'll see you out there."

"Arielle, are you happy? At Araignée?"

Her head tilted to one side, just like Gaius' had, that smile still lingering. "Very much."

Grimm darted forward and crushed her in another embrace until she squirmed

"I can't breathe!" When he let go she chuckled. "You're getting married, Grimm, not dying. You've married her countless times, anyway."

"Apologies. I'm just feeling emotional, I suppose."

"If you get nervous, just remember you're already married to her. No pressure." They both chuckled and she slipped out the door.

Arielle had only been gone a moment when the already gloomy room filled with shades of night, jasmine overpowering the scents of Agatha's potions.

Nyxia appeared in all her splendour. "I cannot meddle in these mortal affairs any longer, but I did not have the opportunity to wish you well on your last wedding day. For that, I make up for it now." Lady Death leaned in and kissed both Grimm's cheeks. "I will see you soon, my son. Take care of our Asteria." She was gone as quickly as she'd arrived before Grimm could even say a word.

Two quick knocks came at the door, and Tindle poked his head in. "If you're wrinkled, I'll murder you."

Grimm barked a laugh as he bustled in carrying a black dahlia "Your threats are growing more sinister by the moment, Tindle."

"It's all of you gloomy, deathy people." He made a motion with his hand as if he was swatting a fly. "I need a nice, long holiday on Seleste's isle. Now, last touch," he murmured, pinning the dahlia to Grimm's lapel. When the dressmaker had it situated and looked up, his eyes were misty.

Grimm swallowed down the lump forming in his throat. "Thank you for everything, Tindle. I could never find the words to explain how important you are to me."

"Oh, stuff it, prince." Tindle sniffed. "Weddings make people so emotional. It's pathetic."

"It's time," Gaius announced from the doorway. "Let's get you married. Again."

Why was he so godsdamned nervous ?

He followed Gaius out into the short hall, but they halted at the top of the stairs. "What is it?" Grimm asked his friend, but then he noticed the barely concealed smile. "Gaius… Tell me you didn't let Sorscha run amok."

"For shame!" Gaius teased. "I'm actually rather proud of our petit serpent . She listened to every word you said, save for"—he coughed—"a dance she has planned. Otherwise, I had her make one small adjustment just now, and I think you're going to be quite pleased."

Grimm sucked on his bottom lip, eyes narrowed at his friend. "Then why are you trying to hide that blindfold from me?"

"Just stop talking and turn around."

AGATHA

Her gown was an absolute work of art. It was simple, a deep contrast to the one she wore to wed into the Peridot family the first time. Black silk cascaded from the thin straps at her shoulders, down to her bare feet and off into a short train. The silk bunched, ever so slightly, at her breasts—a soft wave in an otherwise fluid gown. There were no other adornments. No bells or whistles. It was simple, pure midnight elegance.

Just as on their wedding day in Autumn, she stared at herself in the mirror in disbelief that she was marrying the man who bowled her over in a tavern, a dark prince with secrets. Secrets that were hers now, and always had been.

And just as on that day, Winnie was reflected in the mirror behind her. This time, though, it was in the flesh—none of Lady Death's birds trying to peck her to death for being in the Netherrealm—and this time, Sorscha and Seleste were there as well.

All of them arguing.

Per the usual .

"But the left is my best side," Sorscha was saying. "I want to be on Aggie's left so my left side is visible."

"Nobody cares about your face, Sorscha!" Winnie snipped. "This is not your day."

"Now, now." Seleste lifted her hands placatingly. "There is no reason to argue. We should simply be in reverse order of age."

"But that puts Winnie on the end!"

"Enough squabbling, you whores!" Agatha broke in, laughing tearfully. "No one is painting this wedding. Who cares who is where?" She fanned her face so tears wouldn't disrupt the charcoal around her eyes. "Just enjoy this night. Come the morning, we begin a trek into the unknown."

Sorscha visibly shook off her self-absorption, coming over to look at Agatha in the mirror. "You look stunning." She ran her hand down Agatha's hip. "I've never seen Tindle do simple, but gods, did he deliver. This thing hugs everything in all the right places. Oh!" She gave a little hop. "I have the perfect lip stain!"

As Sorscha ran off to retrieve it, Seleste came up behind Agatha, weaving her arms around her middle and resting her chin on Agatha's shoulder. "You do look beautiful. I'm so happy we could be here this time." With one little squeeze, she released her Sister and set to doing her hair. She left the curls free, only plaiting one small braid around the crown of her head.

Sorscha bustled back in with a lip stain in a shade of plum Agatha had never seen her Sister Spring wear in any way, shape, or form. When Agatha raised a brow at her, commenting that very thing, Sorscha shrugged. "I tried it once. I hate it. But it'll be perfection on you. Something borrowed."

As Sorscha and Seleste worked on beautification, Winnie smoothed Agatha's dress at least four times too many, presumably hoping no one would notice she'd been sniffling the entire time. "I'll be right back."

Seleste completed the braid and smiled at Agatha in the mirror. A tickle came at Agatha's thigh and she yelped. Seleste laughed as Agatha roughly pulled up her dress to find a garter in a deep, midnight blue lace had appeared there. In its centre was a beautiful cameo of a bat. "Your something blue," Sister Summer said, and Sorscha cackled.

Winnie materialised next to them. "Arm please."

Agatha did as she was commanded and held out her arm. Winnie clasped a delicate, dainty chain of gold, interspersed with gems of onyx, amber, ruby, and moonstone that glittered in the candlelight. "Your something new."

And, just as on that day in Autumn, she wore the colours of the Sisters Solstice.

"You're all going to make me cry again," Agatha squeaked, fanning her face rapidly.

Anne rushed into Agatha's room then, all smiles and all business. She paused only long enough to gasp and gush over Agatha before she said, "Ring, please," and held out her hand, palm up.

"What ring?"

"You're kidding, right?" When Agatha only blinked, Anne rolled her eyes and grabbed Agatha's hand, yanking off her ring. Holding it up she said, "The wedding ring."

As Sorscha and Seleste giggled, Anne turned on her heel and plopped the ring in Winnie's hand. "Don't lose this." She turned back to Agatha. "Tindle will be in in a moment and it's go time." Another spin and she was headed for the door, a woman on a mission. "Witches, let's go!"

Squealing and laughing, Seleste, Sorscha, and Winnie gave their various, excitement-riddled last words to Agatha and scuttled out.

GRIMM

"Why am I blindfolded?" Grimm growled for the hundredth time. And, for the hundredth time, he received no answer.

"Watch your step."

Grimm tripped over something, stumbling. "Little late there," he hissed at Gaius, who only chuckled.

He felt him fiddle with his hand until his ring slid free. "I'm handing you off to Laurent while I finish some things. Don't you dare fucking remove that blindfold."

When Gaius' footsteps were fading away, Grimm reached up to lift his blindfold, only to have a huge hand clasp around his wrist.

"Nope."

"Ah, Asa," Grimm drawled, "surely a man such as yourself can recognise how little I wish to be blindfolded ."

Asa grunted. "Sorscha worked too hard for you to fuck it up."

"It's my wedding!" Grimm argued. At least Asa let his wrist go. "Wait. Gaius said he was handing me off to Laure— Oh, my gods!" A hand had come in and slapped his arse. "Never mind."

Laurent howled. "Just hold your damned horses, reaper. Shall I play for you?" Before Grimm could answer, Laurent began plucking at his lute. It was nice, he had to admit to himself—begrudgingly.

Several moments later, Grimm sighed. "Can I at least sit?" No one answered. In fact, the air around him felt empty. "Gents?" He reached up for the blindfold, but his heart stuttered, his hand stilling.

Suddenly the air no longer felt empty. It felt all filled up.

Little witch.

Hello, reaper.

He ripped off the blindfold and there she was, a handful of strides away.

"Holy gods," he breathed, eyes welling with a sudden rush of tears. How many times had he seen her? How many lifetimes had he spent with her? And yet this was different. How, he didn't know. Didn't care. But he couldn't move. Couldn't speak. All of which flooded their entanglement, and she smiled, a bubbling, tearful laugh escaping her beautiful mouth.

It was only then that he registered anything but her. He almost laughed. In a way, it was still her. Her copse of trees alive with dying leaves surrounded them, pumpkins galore, and floating lanterns twinkled around them, only outshone by the moon directly above. The Witching Hour.

Slowly, Agatha walked toward him in a gown that broke his heart for how beautiful it looked on her, and what he felt about it in their bond. She loved details , but tonight—their night—she only needed him. The gown fluttered Autumnal leaves in her wake, each step toward him a blissful torture.

His heart was hammering against his ribs. Why was this different?

Because she was his bride. His wife. His life in every timeline already.

"Because," she continued for him, halting one step from him. One agonising step. She'd heard his tangle of thoughts, of course she had. "This is us," she said, those honey eyes locked on his. "This is us pausing for the first time since that awful night in our gazebo in Achlys—since we separated for the good of everyone else—to let our lives wash over us. Be us. Just us."

Agatha took the last step forward and Grimm reached for one of her hands, resting his other on the small of her back as if they might dance beneath the moonlight. "I hope you know," he said, his voice scratchy, "that I would burn down this and any other realm for you."

He no longer wanted anyone to hear the vows he'd prepared for her. She was right. This was for them. A slice of a moment carved out just for the two of them. A tear slid down her cheek, and, for once, he didn't wipe it away. "Agatha, you are everything to me. You drive me mad . You challenge me, make me feel alive. I can say with absolute finality, that I do not want this life or any other without you in it.

"You could bloom while set up in flames , for goddess' sake." She sniffled a laugh and he thought his heart would explode. "Many people marry." He was well and truly crying himself now. "But how many get to marry the love of their life over, and over, and over again? "

It was becoming hard to speak through his tears, so he kissed her hand, trying to compose himself. "I have. And yet, I still choose you. Every day. In every life. Until the end of time." He bent to kiss her but stopped. "Godsdammit, I need a ring someone!"

A little burst of magic, like a popping soap bubble, and Agatha's bat and bone ring appeared before him. He plucked it from the air and held up her hand. "I knew they had to be watching," he whispered, and she laughed, both of them a mess of snot and tears. Palms sweating and heart pounding, he slipped the ring on her finger where it belonged. "I love you."

Agatha squeezed her eyes shut before opening them and pulling her hand from his. "All right. Now hush and let me talk." He laughed as she fanned her face, then pushed her hair back, blowing a great breath past her lips. "Whew. All right, I can do this."

Gods, he loved this woman.

"Stop thinking so romantically or I'll never get through this, reaper!"

Grimm tipped his head back and laughed. He swore he could hear the others snicker from wherever they were hiding. Little gremlins.

She took his hand again and started to speak, but stopped. Over her shoulder, she cleared her throat loudly. Anne popped out from behind a tree, smiling awkwardly. She snuck over to them, face beet-red and stuck in that grimace.

"Apologies," she whispered, handing Agatha a ring. "Gaius changed the whole thing at the last minute."

Fuck , that was going to make him cry again.

A fresh wave of tears came from Agatha again as Anne tip-toed back to her hidy-hole. After a moment of blinking up at the sky, she finally faced him, looking up at him instead of the moon. "You are my night sky."

She choked on the words, and Grimm had to swipe at his face.

"I never grow tired of you, and I grow tired of…everyone." He laughed, and a chorus of muffled chuckles came from the trees. "I told you on the eve of our last wedding that twilight was my favourite time of day, because the moon and sun war for control of the sky. I believe now that I love it because it is the time of darkness and light. And the twilight holds the peace between them." Her tears began anew, and so did his. " You are my peace, Grimm. My twilight. You hold me together when I can't do it. I don't want any of this"—she gestured toward her beloved Forest of Tombs—"or any life without you."

She slipped the ring on his finger and he snatched her waist, pulling her to him. Cheers erupted from the trees as he kissed her as if it were the first time.

AGATHA

It was perfect.

Behind her cottage, Gaius and Sorscha had set up a bonfire and a dance floor—respectively. The fire had been a last-minute adjustment, and Grimm almost tackled Gaius with a bearhug for it.

" For fires and family ," Gaius said, he and Grimm both choking back tears .

The tears, however, had ended long ago, replaced by raucous laughter and pure joy.

They'd eaten an absolute feast at the two long tables laden with bouquets of dahlias, black barlow, and elderberry, candles interspersed to perfection. They danced until almost dawn, while Laurent played the lute and Winnie sang. During Agatha's first dance with Grimm, he'd gotten too handsy and Tindle stepped in, while Dulci twirled away with Grimm.

It was a magical evening devoid of magic, only the love of her family and friends. Her heart swelled as she watched them all pair off.

Sorscha dancing wildly with stiff-kneed Asa. Gaius holding Arielle as if she were the most precious thing in the realm. Laurent making Tomás play the lute—terribly—so he could twirl Winnie. Augustus swaying with Anne, her head on his chest. Tindle bickering in a waltz with Dulci. Tomás and Eleanor performing a dance they choreographed, until everyone laughed and cheered. Grimm, seeing Seleste nursing her drink off to the side and leading her in a boisterous dance until she laughed.

Even Mabon, Litha, and Yula flew and dove throughout the night, their own dance of celebration, while Yula clutched Ostara gently in her talons so she could join them in the sky.

Agatha's heart broke and mended and rebroke for love, and joy, and grief the whole night long.

She'd danced with each of her Sisters, laughing and stumbling more often than not. Sorscha was unrestrained and crude. Seleste was as free as the Summer night. And Winnie had sniped at Agatha for stepping on her toes, but there was no real censure in it and they ended up on the dance floor in fits of giggles—all four of them. She could have sworn she heard the First Sisters join in.

Grimm spent most of the night deep in laughter and conversation with Gaius, Arielle, and Eleanor, teasing Tindle and Dulci mercilessly and pouring drinks for everyone. But every time Agatha looked his direction, he was already looking at her, that wolfish grin of his in place.

"Come, little witch," he eventually whispered in her ear where she sat in a swing, looking out over her family as the sky began to lighten. "They're all asleep, and I do believe it is my duty to claim you before the sun rises."