It was a dreary day. Grey clouds blanket the heavens making the sun look like nothing more than a dull lamp in the sky. Today is the day of the funeral of the fallen assassins of Frost Bringer. (Y/n) had meticulously prepared everything and ensured that nothing would ruin this event.

The chosen venue for the funeral was a remote area owned by the Garden and one of the many places where ceremonial Rites for Nymphs were performed. It was a serene location by a flowing river surrounded by ancient trees whispering secrets of time. The river, with its gentle and soothing murmurs, provided a tranquil backdrop to the somber proceedings. To some extent, it was a reflection of the depth of solemnity that filled the air.

Seats have been set up to accommodate attendees, medical personnel were summoned in case of unexpected emergencies, and a place of refuge was prepared inside the mausoleum should the weather turn for the worst. (Y/n) procured the best flower arrangements made up of gladioli, chrysanthemums, white roses, and daffodils that bloom radiantly. They were erected upon white wooden columns that decorated the walkway like a line of soldiers standing guard. 

Despite receiving a blank check, she handled the finances well. She didn't spend too extravagantly but she ensured that the event would be dignified and beautiful to honor the remains of the fallen and console the bereaved. 

Dimitri had chosen a unique method of honoring his assassins, at least, by normal standards. Ironically, it is one of the popular funerary techniques for Lyroris Radiatas.

"Is everything ready?" (Y/n) asked to one of her subordinates.

"Yes, Madame. We're only awaiting the arrival of the assassins."

"Perfect. We must get ready."

The remains came soon after and with them the assassins who mourn their fallen brothers and sisters. Mixed emotions could be seen from those in attendance. Rage blazed from the eyes of those who have loved deeply, sorrow and despair from those who care, while apathy and calmness from those who only attended for pretense.

The remains of the fallen were transferred to the front where everyone could behold them. Two lines of Lycoris Radiatas faced each other along the pathway, each possessing long slender swords housed beside their hips. The bigger and stronger assassins carried the remains over their broad shoulders. As they passed, the Lycoris Radiatas unsheathed their blades and raised them high. It was a symbolic gesture to ensure that the fallen would be kept safe by the agents of Death. 

Dimitri and his closest advisors were at the forefront, each of them bearing offerings for the departed. His eyes briefly met with (Y/n) whose radiant countenance remained passive. A look of mutual respect and recognition passed between them, no words were necessary to convey their thoughts to each other. 

The first phase of the funeral commenced with the blessing of the corpses. A eulogy was given and messages for the fallen were expressed. Spiritual leaders blessed the remains and uttered prayers for their journey to the afterlife. 

Lycoris Radiatas, adorned in their ceremonial outfits, moved gracefully to the center of the gathering. They wore elegant black clothes that hugged their bodies perfectly, making them reassemble goddesses from ancient legends. Their garments were similar but each was styled differently to compliment their individual features. 

Music began to play while a trio sang with clear heavenly voices. Their song was a solemn melody to which their sisters danced with graceful movements. The dancers were ethereal, each step and gesture mimicking the delicate flight of butterflies. This sacred dance, believed to deliver the souls of the departed to the afterlife, was a beautiful tradition steeped in reverence. 

(Y/n) was at the center, half her face was covered in a black veil much like the others. She wore a sleeveless blouse that reached half her navel; it was as black as a raven's feather while her long skirt cascaded to the floor in a mesmerizing display of layers. The skirt flows like water made from the finest silk and gossamer. The fabric is so light that it seems to float around her, each step causing it to ripple and dance. Subtle golden threads are woven into the material, catching the light and adding a magical glow to her every movement.

As (Y/n) danced, Dimitri observed from a distance, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He was mesmerized by her fluid movements, every action was a tantalizing temptation that clawed at his sensibility. There was magic at each of her steps, he was enchanted like a foolish mortal who found his way into a faerie soiree. He admired her grace and the way she embodied her role, yet a gnawing sense of jealousy tugged at his heart. So many eyes are watching her, admiring how her beauty shined so radiantly. He wanted to be the only one allowed to see her. 

He snuffed out the greedy demon whispering over his shoulder. There is a proper place and a proper time for him to express his desires, a funeral is not one of them.  

The second phase began once the dance concluded. The remains of the departed were placed in boats, each crafted with care and adorned with flowers and offerings. These boats, made from light wood and covered in intricate designs, were filled with symbols of the assassins’ lives—personal tokens, weapons, and memories. The boats were gently pushed into the river, sailing gracefully down the current. 

(Y/n), along with her sisters, positioned themselves along the riverbank. They took up their long elegant bows and readied the flaming arrows. The sky darkened slightly as the sun dipped lower, casting a warm golden glow over the scene. 

"Position," commanded a Wayfarer. The archers moved with synchronized movements, their stances perfect and regal. 

"Nock." They latched their arrows on their bows and pulled the string taut. They pointed their bows to the sky as if daring to shoot the heavens and the stars. 

"Loose." On signal, the arrows were released, arcing through the air and blazing trails of light like meteors. Each arrow found its target despite the distance and darkness, a testament to the skill of the archers. Dimitri could not help but be impressed. He never knew that (Y/n) was such an excellent marksman. Standing there with a long bow in hand and her hair billowing with the wind, she looked mythical like the Goddess Artemis. 

Time stood still as they all watched the fire come to life. Flames engulfed the flowers and offerings, the fire crackling and hissing as it consumed the remains. Sobs and gentle murmurs could be heard echoing through the crowd. The river became a beacon of light, guiding the souls of the assassins to their final destination. The boats were the last to burn before sinking beneath the currents to their watery grave.  

The third phase was the funeral reception—a feast for the bereaved. Under a canopy of trees where starry lamps dangled from the foliage, tables were set up lined with food and drink. The menu had an assortment of dishes like sliced baguettes adorned with creamy brie and white truffle; smoked salmon bites with a dollop of crème fraîche and caviar; fresh oysters on the half shell, topped with a mignonette; creamy tartlets filled with a variety of fresh fruits; artistically designed miniature cakes; an assortment of macaroons; and many more. 

The atmosphere was one of quiet reflection, a stark contrast to the earlier phases. People spoke in hushed tones, sharing memories of the fallen, their laughter and tears mingling in the air.

(Y/n) moved through the crowd offering solace to those in mourning. She hugged them, kissed their cheeks, and whispered words of comfort. Her presence was a balm for their aching hearts. Her compassion and empathy shone through like a benevolent mother. She extended her role beyond rituals to express genuine empathy.

Dimitri watched from a distance, his emotions a turbulent mix of passion and jealousy. He admired her grace and kindness but seeing her so close to others, offering comfort that he longed for, stirred a deep sense of envy within him. He clenched his fists, struggling to contain his feelings, knowing that this was neither the time nor the place to voice them.

"How do you like my work so far, O Hidden One?" (Y/n) asked, a playful smile tugging at her lips. She approached Dimitri, who was slumped against a tree quietly watching the events unfold.

"It's lovely. I never knew I could like funerals this much. Every single thing you did amazed me, I'm glad I chose a Viking funeral for them. You did a magnificent job."

"Thank you, it surprised me when you went with it. I thought you'd go with more conventional options but I'm glad that you also have a flair for theatrics." (Y/n) giggled as she took her place beside him. 

Dimitri kept quiet. His eyes were clouded with solemnity, he was deep in his thoughts but she dared not disturb him. Keeping him company seems to be enough consolation for him. 

(Y/n) watched the multiple events taking place around them. Tristan, Eidanne, and Xavier seem to be enjoying the buffet together. Their group was an unexpected trio which made her curious about what brought about such an event. Galahad was with his little daughter who was excitedly talking to a dancer, most likely praising her for her talent and asking to be taught how to dance like her. Nyx and Hecate were trying out archery under the instructions of Crystal, one of (Y/n)'s coworkers. They were doing quite well and praising each other for their skills. Their relationship seems healthy. 

Most members of Frost Bringer attended the funeral, there were even assassins from branches stationed abroad. Many stayed for the reception as a form of respect while some had already left to fulfill their missions. Some chose to conceal their appearances behind masks and layers of clothing but some proudly flaunted their true self. 

"Are you planning to massacre us at the funeral of our people?" Dimitri asked unexpectedly. His tone was flat and humorless making (Y/n) gawk at him with surprise and alarm. 

"What are you talking about?"

"You've been humming the Rains of Castamere on repeat. I thought you were planning on slaughtering us here and now." Dimitri said, no ounce of emotion visible on his face. 

"Ah, I forgot. We both watched Game of Thrones. Or rather you watched it because I watched it like the copycat that you are. But to answer your question, nope. I'm not planning to kill you at your event. At least, not now." she replied playfully. 

(Y/n) was surprised, she didn't even realize that she was humming. For some reason, the song was stuck in her head on repeat. The song was the theme of House Lannister, the primary villain of Game of Thrones. The song she was humming, "The Rains of Castamere", was a song that played when they massacred the Starks, their rival family, during a wedding. The episode was entirely disturbing and heartbreaking filled with betrayal and unexpected twists. Perhaps it mirrored what happened to the assassins that's why she subconsciously sang it. 

"How would you do it?" Dimitri suddenly asked, leaving her confused. His face remained passive which made her nervous. Dimitri's resting face is terrifying, it's like a snowstorm: cold, unreadable, and unpredictable. The uncertainty of not knowing what goes on in his mind unnerved her but she tried to remain calm and cordial. 

"Do what exactly?" she asked, playing dumb. 

"(Y/n) if you're gonna kill me, how would you do it?"

(Y/n) contemplated this for a while. The question itself was odd to ask your girlfriend and even more odd due to the fact that he's the master of death between the two of them. She knew that whatever answer she could come up with, he could counter with a sensible solution. 

"You're stronger than me so I'd probably do it when you're asleep. I'd stab your neck with a knife or shoot you with a gun."

Her answers were too basic which seemed to disappoint Dimitri. "I'm a light sleeper. The moment you remove yourself from my arms to hug your ice bear, I wake up to throw that thing across the room and snuggle you back on my chest. Try again."

"Ah, so that's why Dimitri Jr. has been on the floor lately." (Y/n) thought again. "I'd poison your food."

"I'm immune to most kinds of poison. Try again." She did not know that but noted. Every day Dimitri reveals more and more of his amazing skills. 

"I'll snap the brakes of your car?" 

"Been there, done that."

This time her answer sounded more like a question earning a look of slight disapproval from him. It honestly made her feel embarrassed but his answer was fascinating. She wonders if it happened during one of his missions as an assassin or if it is a consequence of being born into the Morozov family. 

"I'd hire an assassin to kill you?"

"I employ a lot of them, baby. Plus I'm stronger than any run-off-the-mill, motherfucker. Try again."

"Damn it. Why is it so hard to kill you?"

Dimitri chuckled, the sound dark and melodious. It was a nice contrast to his earlier stoic behavior. "This is a fun game."

"Oh, I got it!" 

"Let's hear it then." Dimitri took a sip of his brandy, a smile dancing on his lips. 

"I'll sit on your face." And he spat out his drink, coughing and laughing at the same time. "That... might actually work. I know I can overpower you but at that point, I'll probably accept my fate. That is an honorable way to die." 

Dimitri wiped his mouth with a tissue, a proud smile decorating his lips. "One of these days I must teach you how to get away with murder. But of course, you can do it as sloppy as you want and I'll take care of the rest. Being your accomplice can also be considered as a form of love." Dimitri took her hands in his hands, feeling how cold they had become. He began to rub them to provide her with warmth and (Y/n) appreciated the gesture. 

"You have a weird take on love. I don't know if I should be alarmed or aroused." 

He grinned, a predatory look playing in his eyes. "Both would be acceptable. I do love to see the fear in your eyes." 

She thinks he's joking and being playful but a part of her knew that there was some truth to it. Statements like this made her remember that she was dating a criminal with all the power to destroy every aspect of her being. It reminds her that she could only do the things she did because he allowed her to. 

Without his unwavering tolerance and patience, she wonders what would have become of her. If Dimitri was a little bit more insane, would she find herself imprisoned only to exist for his pleasure? If he was slightly more cruel, would she find herself beaten every day if she displeased him? If she pushed all his limits and betrayed him, she wonders how far he would go to retaliate. Would he even admonish her or would his love win over his hatred? Suddenly the thought made her curious but she shouldn't act on it. 

"Darling, that's not something you tell your girlfriend." Dimitri leaned down to kiss her, his mouth was warm and pleasant. He was gentle and delicate this time, every moment was loving and sweet. Any argument that ran through her mind was soon forgotten as she replied to his kiss. 

Despite the uncertainties she has, perhaps the only thing she can be sure of is that Dimitri loves her more than anything else. So much so that he's willing to turn a blind eye to her own corruption. 

As the night grew darker and the feast continued, the river’s gentle murmur seemed to carry away the pain and sorrow, leaving behind a sense of peace and acceptance for those who grieve. The fallen assassins were honored with dignity and respect, their memories living on in the hearts of those who survived.