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blueunoias · 3 years

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Never Again, Hogwarts AU

TW: abuse, mentions of sexual abuse, self hatred, language

A/N: Fluff angsty piece I made here. I got carried away. Maybe a bit too much angst

Present day

Cassian was having a hard time focusing in Potions class, it was the fifth time he almost caught his ebony hair on fire from the fuming Cauldron next to him due to complete and utter distraction caused by the beautiful and magnificent witch a table away from him.

Her little perfect elegant nose was scrunched in focus as she stared down at her Potions textbook with sharp pretty silver blue eyes reading over the instructions. Probably memorizing the words as she absorbed them, finding the errors and questioning the steps required to follow as if everything was a riddle. Always worrying her plump bottom lip with her pearl white teeth as she thought.

Completely and utterly distracting him from the task at hand and making him think of what he would do if he could just brush his hands through her silky hair and press his lips against her own.

Ever since Nesta Archeron entered Cassian Aziz’s life in her pristine white Oxford shirt and straight blue and bronze Ravenclaw tie with bright ebullient blue grey eyes that captivated him the moment he locked eyes with her and silky golden brown locks that haunted his dreams day and night.

Over the years his infatuation and affection for the stunning snarky, and far too intelligent girl only grew, with every attempt to flirt, joke, insult, she only continued to fuel his behaviour with her chilling, witty, desirous demeanor always handing his ass back to him, leaving him wanting more of her each time.

He was in such deep shit for that witch. Always had been.

The worst of it all was last year when Nesta managed to land herself in most of Cassian’s classes along with him and his brothers, Rhys’s cousin Mor and their friend Amren.

When she was meant to be in fifth year with her sister Elain, Headmaster Helion insisted she skip ahead and take more advanced classes of the years above (such as Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Transfiguration) before she used far too advanced hexes during a class duel or perhaps in boredom.

The witch was too smart for her own, well actually anyone’s good. She was going to change the world with the beautiful, brilliant mind of hers. He only admired her the most for it.

Such deep shit.

It only made his crush on her worse, his admiration and affection burst into a wildfire. Having to stare at her all day, listen to her melodious effervescent voice as she answered and asked questions, or worse when he would hear her laugh with her friends.

Damn, if it wasn’t his favorite sound in the world. It was a song he loved to hear, and he tried to play it every time he had the chance to speak to her. If he could he would bottle up the sound and listen to it during those sorrowful, dark moments that shaded over him like a looming stormy cloud.

It was moments like that, that Cassian had tried to convince himself that what he felt for Nesta Archeron was only but a crush. A crush he could not seem to get over.

Now it was his last year of school, two months into his seventh year unable to pull his hazel green eyes from her and all he wanted was her.

He hoped that Rhys’s connection to Feyre, and Azriel being with her best friend Gwyn would always keep them connected no matter what happened. He only wished his two brothers didn’t somehow muck it up like they usually did.

A small part of him hoped that he wouldn’t need Azriel or Rhys, that he and Nesta would manage to stay connected through that tether he felt that pulled them together.

A sigh escaped past his lips. Azriel gave him an unimpressed stare as he glanced over to where Cassian’s gaze was zeroed onto.

Cassian momentarily caught the way his lips quirked in a secret hidden smile, because he knew what it felt like.

Initially, Cassian had been jealous of Azriel; the lucky bastard was in Ravenclaw with the girl of his dreams. He used to catch them walking together, discussing something very seriously, or sitting in the library together in silence.

But all she and Azriel shared was a special and interesting friendship, of two people who could understand the dark silence, challenge each other with master poker faces and catch on to their far too riddled and intelligent humor that no one else could quite keep up with.

Then Azriel began dating Nesta’s best friend Gwyn, and that seemed to make more sense than Nesta and Azriel ever would, it definitely took the edge off.

It was stupid jealousy anyways. Which was pointless anyways since she could hold her own, he always knew that.

Yet, he was always jealous when it came to Nesta. When Slytherin’s biggest player Eris Vanserra would blatantly flirt with her all the time in class, in the halls, at parties. Or when the most famous Bulgarian Quidditch Seeker from Durmstrang (also the Aziz’s brothers idol), Balthazar Volkov asked her to the Yule Ball in her fourth year.

Well, too many wizards to count had asked the Yule Ball to count, but even Balthazar, a man in a league of his own, couldn’t deny her undying beauty and charm. Little men could, even Azriel, and even Rhys who was head over heels for Nesta’s youngest sister, though they both may deny it were completely entranced by the Ravenclaw at first glance.

They just could never keep up with her fire. They couldn’t handle a witch like that. But Cassian, Cassian could and he always relished in the challenge and gift that was Nesta.

And she never failed to leave them impressed, especially him. Top of her class. Hardworking, diligent, always finding her own way to solve a problem. Prefect. Most likely Head Girl next year no doubt about that.

Nesta was incredibly smart and wise but he knew why she had an incessant need to be perfect, to be the best, to prove herself. To be the best sister. To be the best friend. To be the best witch. Despite her origins.

He both admired her and was concerned over her a bit.

“Stop drooling over the Cauldron, dimwit.” Mor chastised lightheartedly, raising a perfect blond brow, twirling her red and gold tie in between her matching manicured nails.

Cassian rolled his eyes, pulling his gaze away from Nesta and trying to focus his mind on other things, his education might be a great start.

Then he felt a pat on his shoulder as if someone was sensing his underlying emotions brewing underneath his nonchalance and bright personality.

He raised his golden eyes up and Rhys stared at him in understanding in his violet eyes with a small smile.

While Cassian’s sixth year had been blossoming love affairs and bursting with passion and love for the ones around him, the last year had been especially perturbing and upsetting for Cassian when it came to his crush– love for a certain golden brown haired witch.

What was supposed to be another amazing magical year at Hogwarts turned out to be a sort of hell for Nesta, a hell no one, not even Cassian, realized she was going through until it was too late.

He remembers it vividly in a haunting way, that still left him raging and furious but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

She was just 15 at the time, he had just turned 17 in the fall, and even lovelier than he had remembered (if that was even possible), her hair was longer in loose beautiful curls, more of her thin legs showing from her pleated skirt, and a rosy smile that was still the loveliest thing he had ever seen.

With her in most of his classes, now a myriad of older wizards took the opportunity and began preying on Nesta's youth and naivety (more than usual) and she may have been fierce and sharp but Nesta was a different kind of innocence and beauty walking on legs.

Innocent in the way she believed in fairytales and love, naive in the way he knew she secretly hoped for someone to romance her and sweep her off her feet. This was a more hidden part of Nesta’s heart not many knew about besides her sisters and closest most confident friends. A part of her that didn’t fit into her perfect Ravenclaw image. But Cassian saw through her unlike any other.

And Nesta Archeron was one of the most unattainable girls in the castle because she knew better and was too wise to fall for their acts. It only made everyone want her all that much more.

At the time of this eventful year Cassian was still messing with Nesta and his ‘friendship’ with her, mostly lying to himself that he only had a silly stupid boy crush on her until Tomas Mandray, Slytherin Chaser and Cassian’s rival, began to prey on Nesta with his sinful hungry stare only focusing in on her body and not the part of her that truly mattered.

Consumed by jealousy Cassian never truly realized what had been truly going on between them, what Nesta was actually a victim to all along. Until it had been too late.

They all watched over the months as Nesta retreated into herself, the queen of wit and wisdom lost the light in her eyes, the confidence in her stance, the smile on her lips. Instead she became thin, threw herself into her studies, into practicing harder and more dangerous spells.

Her eyes became hollow, her beautiful face still devastating but in a fearsome way in where she was gaunt and lost, a bit of a ghost of that flaming icy witch she was that made Cassian laugh uncontrollably with her comebacks, aroused Azriel’s smirk when she wittingly retorted in other’s defences especially those she cared about, brought out Amren’s feral and proud feline grin, made her sisters smile and showered them with her love, made Gwyn and Emerie giggle and comforted them in their time of need with her fierce loyalty and support.

The person that she was too all these people had very slowly vanished into something else, something hollow and sad. The Nesta they all loved and cared for was almost unrecognizable by the time of winter holidays.

His reaction at first was angry and far too envious to even realize the truth.

A month into her ‘relationship’ when she began to pull away from him and her friends and family uncharacteristically. She began to argue with her sisters, barely talked to anyone who wasn’t Tomas, they never saw her anymore. He never saw her anymore.

In attempts to confront her, when he had enough, after Feyre and Elain were both upset with her again, they said things to each other mostly he did in an argument fueled by jealousy, that Cassian would regret till the day he died.

He saw the haunted look in Nesta’s eyes when he said words he could never take back, watched as she ran and slipped away from him yet again, and tried to convince not to care over the next couple months of Nesta’s ‘relationship’.

Then when Feyre expressed what she and Elain were worried about (what they were all secretly worrying about, but ignored because it was so much easier to antagonize Nesta than to worry about her), how even at home over the winter holidays, how shattered Nesta seemed, how wary they were of Tomas, how after a couple of days they saw their sister Nesta return, how she smiled a little again, even laughed, still refused to go out and leave the house to see her friends, to see him, but she at least seemed lighter than she had since the beginning of the school year.

But then when they returned to Hogwarts everything went back to the way it was , like a rubber band snapping back into place. Nesta was gone again. Only ever spending her time with Tomas and when she sat in the dining hall she would sit with Tomas and his horrible friends that clearly treated her less than what she was.

The entire school was confused as to how Nesta, magnificent and glorious, had become Tomas’s subservient little girlfriend tight and controlled on his leash. But everyone knew Nesta, knew that she couldn’t be controlled.

Little did they know. Little did he know.

Eight months ago

Nesta had decided to show up to lunch in the Great Hall at the insistence of Gwyn and Emerie in honor of their annual Galentine’s celebration, except they were celebrating the day after because of Tomas’s insistence he spend it with his ‘girlfriend’.

On the contrary, Cassian had spent his Valentines at Hogwarts annual Valentines Day party trying to forget any reason he would ever want to celebrate this day by drowning in Firewhiskey, and forget the person he would’ve loved to spend it with by dancing with another witch.

Sat next to Gwyn and across Emerie Nesta was unusually quiet, unlike herself sitting on the Ravenclaw table where she normally had thrived and excelled with her witty intellectual conversations and riddling banter.

For the first time, he saw the fear in her sharp blue grey eyes, the cowering in her posture, her unsureness in her lips.

Ever since Elain and Feyre had brought up their concerns, slowly everyone began to notice, to realize, to open their eyes to the horror.

It was a miserable rainy day in February. The truth was set free, not like a lovely white dove soaring into the blue sky but much like a crown spreading darkness into a pulsing storm.

Cassian remembered the day vividly.

Cassian was sat with his friends at lunch, all with a painful hangover pulsing through their heads from the night before, without Nesta’s genius hangover cure that no one could figure out or recreate they all endured the pain with laughter and lighthearted conversation flowing through the air as they ate at the Gryffindor table.

As if his gut or heart was speaking to him, he felt an uneasy feeling surrounding them in the atmosphere that he just assumed was the alcohol punishing him for last night.

But then he heard a horrified gasp from the Ravenclaw table and the pit in his stomach made sense. When he looked back up again to Nesta, he saw what elicited such a terrified sound.

Nesta’s terrifying eyes were blown wide as she continuously asked “what?” to her friends. Gwyn looked as if she was about to cry. In a shuddering moment, Cassian and his friends saw what was so horrifying.

Bruises began to slowly appear onto Nesta’s skin, growing darker and more purple littering her neck in stripes, her plump bottom lip was slightly swollen and split open, fresh that it looked as if it was still bleeding her ruby blood, but it was the violet red bruise that was on her cheek bone and temple that clarified what these bruises were and the true nature of where they came from.

All their eyes were on Nesta as she looked parts equally bemused and perplexed with a bit of fear lining her expression. Her brows furrowed together so much that she winced, winced in a way he had seen before more than once, that now made sense to him.

Elain and Feyre quickly caught on, looking extremely horrified, the past five months flashed before their eyes in quick understanding. Elain was on the brink of tears, squeezing Lucien's hand where they sat at the Hufflepuff table. Feyre had brought a hand to her mouth to hide her horror.

Nesta eyes filled with understanding and silver as she brought her lithe fingers to her face, realizing her bruises were there and not concealed under her charm, her face flushed with shame of either the bruises or her spell failing, Cassian couldn’t quite tell.

Their eyes met. Cassian felt guilt and sadness plumet through him into an endless well. How stupid had he been? How selfish? How blind?

Faster than anyone could have noticed, because most were still struck at the state of her, she rushed out of the Great Hall, pain and shame painted across her beautiful features.

Gwyn and Emerie called after her, but to no avail, Nesta was gone.

Realization was a wave that crashed over them. Cassian’s eyes immediately tried to find Tomas at the Slytherin table to pummel him into the ground, to avenge Nesta, to get revenge, to make him sorry for ever looking her way, to make him regret ever laying a hand over her precious face.

But the bastard was nowhere to be seen. Lucky for him because Cassian wouldn’t have minded the years in Azkaban for killing him. Nesta was worth it.

And what had he done? He completely let her down. He failed her. When all those times she had ferociously defended him against those who called him a lowly bastard of a wizard, even if it was true.

“I should’ve known.” Feyre whispered, tears in her voice as she looked down in misery and shame. She had spoken the words flying in all their heads.

“There was no way you could’ve known.” Rhys had tried to console her, but it was the truth, they should’ve seen the signs, they should’ve intervened when things got out of hand. But they were so invested in themselves, Cassian too afraid of rejection like a coward despite how many times he was described as brave, they all failed to see what was right in front of them.

Cassian was too angry, fuming with a ferocious sort of rage, reserved for when the people he cared about most had gotten hurt, to say anything at all. Nothing, not even Mor trying to console him would fix it, would heal the gashing and open wound that tore through his heart.

After hours of searching for Nesta, with no success all her friends and family sat in the library convening on what they had done wrong, how they were supposed to fix it. All trying to figure the entire situation out.

No one had been able to find Tomas either, none of his idiotic evil band of friends knew where he was, no matter how much Cassian had threatened them by pushing them painfully agains the stone walls, they had nothing.

“It’s better this way.” Rhys had tried to reason. “Then we won’t do something very, very stupid that might make the situation more votatile than it already is.”

He clearly said this aimed pointedly at Cassian who sat frustrated in his chair, his red tie loose around his neck (more than usual), his elbows on his knees, one of which bounced in anxiety and fear, his knuckles went pale white as he clenched his fists in pure fury.

He had never felt this angry in his life. But he had to reel it in. He always wore his emotions on his sleeve but tonight he didn’t seem to care. Couldn’t care.

“We were horrible to her.” Elain whispered. Tears ran down her cheeks. Lucien held her tightly in his arms, the redhead resting his cheek on her temple, so open and loving.

Cassian secretly envied Lucien and Elain for being so open and loving with each other no matter how vulnerable. It was the one thing he always struggled with, and it made him such a coward.

“That’s not true Elain.” Lucien said to her, but his girlfriend shook her head.

“I said horrible things to her, worse than she had ever said to me. I was angry when she was hurting and I made it worse.” More tears streamed down her pretty features.

“We both did.” Feyre said, reaching for her sister’s hand. “I was so cruel. Even when I could sense something was wrong, I still hurled the worst things at her. I–– I was awful.” She shook her head in disbelief.

“Fey.” Rhys tried, but tears began to fall down and pour from her blue grey eyes, eyes that were so alike to Nesta, that there wasn’t anything to say to remedy the situation.

“Do you think she will forgive us?” Elain asked, lifting her head from where it rested on Lucien. Her voice quivered with guilt. They were all guilty.

Feyre crushed her sister into a hug as they both sobbed. “I can’t believe this happened to her.” Feyre cried into her older sister's shoulder.

“We share a dorm with her and we–– we didn't, we didn’t catch on. We should’ve done more than try to get her to talk.” Gwyn said, her tears had finally subsided, her and Emerie were radiating with anger. Even Azriel was having a hard time at calming down his firecracker and viciously adorable girlfriend.

“We all allowed it to happen.” Cassian said as he finally spoke, his voice was low and threatening.

Gwyn was probably finding ways to help Nesta heal and support her while hexing Tomas with an unknowing curse and Emerie was figuring out ways to beat him up and curse him.

How could all these people who cared and Nesta cared about all have allowed things to reach the point they did? Why didn’t they save Nesta?

Because we all thought Nesta was capable of saving herself.

And she was. She always had been. But clearly this was something that she needed help with, from all of them. They all unsuccessfully saw that.

Shame filled Cassian. Guilt ran through his veins like a dark sludge making him terribly sick to his stomach.

“It’s in the past. We all failed Nesta, someway, somehow. We can’t sit here and reminisce on what we did wrong, or blame ourselves. There is only one person to blame right now and it is Tomas.” Azriel finally spoke up, taking everyone by surprise except Gwyn who stared up at him with gratitude and admiration, squeezing his hand in thanks.

When I find him, Cassian thought, all violent thoughts rushed up to his brain.

“But it’s Nesta. How could this have happened to her? She’s the smartest witch ever. She knows more hexes than all of us combined, she could’ve easily fought him, she would’ve never allowed anyone to treat her that way. Why her?” Mor said in a quiet yet firm voice.

“That’s a question we ought to ask her. We don’t know what happened and we don’t have half the story but Az is right we can’t blame ourselves. It’s not going to help her. Or anyone.” Rhys spoke up like the leader that he was.

“I’m going to fucking kill him.” Cassian muttered under his breath, he kept seeing red every time Tomas’s stupid name was even mentioned.

“That also isn’t going to help her, Cass.” His brother reprimanded, he only scoffed in response as if Rhys didn’t put Tamlin in the infirmary two years ago for what he did to Feyre.

“He deserves to be punished.” Emerie seethed, Gwyn and her sharing the same expression of valiant warriors at war.

“He will be.” Amren said viciously, the Slytherin looked devious, ready to kill a wizard with her own bare teeth. Amren was the one who taught Nesta every bad hex she knew.

“This feels wrong. I feel horrible discussing this behind her back without her here.” Feyre finally spoke up, wiping at her furious tears. “We’ve looked all over for her, where in Merlin’s name could she be?”

“We’ll find her.” Gwyn reassured, whether it was to convince the group or herself, it somewhat put them all at ease. All except Cassian.

“Fuck this.” His chair scraped back loudy in the isolated part of the library they all sat at, as he stood up to leave.

As Cassian stormed away, their Transfiguration Professor and Headmaster Helion appeared before them, worry etching his dark features.

Headmaster Helion's eyes were focused on Elain and Feyre, both of the witches’ eyes were glazed and rimmed with red. His expression turned more grave as he looked over Cassian’s shoulder.

“I hate to interrupt but I am afraid this is about Nesta.”

At that moment Cassian’s heart sank.

“What happened?” He growled, when everyone else froze into place, their worst fear coming true.

The professor was silent for a moment, pursing his lips. “Dad?” Lucien inquired, his red brows furrowed together, his hand still soothing his girlfriend's back.

“Ms. Archeron is currently in the infirmary. You should all probably come with me.” Helion said firmly, but the worry in his voice was clear and Nesta was one of his favorite students which made it all that much worse.

A choked sob left Elain, her hand covering her mouth. Feyre’s eyes went blank, her expression unreachable. Gwyn and Emerie were on the verge of bursting into tears again.

Cassian only stormed past Helion, bumping his shoulder in an insolent way. His pace was punishing as he ran down the halls to Nesta. Every worst scenario possible played through his head like a nightmare.

It was at that moment he allowed himself to acknowledge for the first time in five years that he was irrevocably in love with Nesta Archeron. It took losing her for him to finally admit it. He never hated himself more.

He pushed through loitering students until he was slammed into a wall with much force, it took the breath out of him or perhaps it brought it back, he couldn’t remember breathing since he heard Nesta was in the infirmary.

Rhys was staring at him, his hands on his shoulders. “You need to calm down Cassian. I know it’s hard.”

“You don’t know shit.” The anger burst out of him and Rhys was right in the crossfire. “You fucking talked shit about her. Mor talked shit about her. All to make Feyre feel better, to make me feel better. But look how fucking wrong we were. How much more worthless did we all make her feel?”

“Cassian.” He said like he was trying to say sorry.

“Don’t Cassian me. Fuck. I let you talk about her like that. Let you look at her the way you did. Let everyone in our little inner circle treat her like shit, even her own sisters. I should’ve known better. You should’ve too. We all should’ve” He said exasperatedly, as it all hit him.

Gwyn and Emerie were probably the only true friends Nesta had, they never uttered a bad word against her, not once, and they tried to help, didn’t they? They had. But their efforts failed against everything else Rhys, Feyre, Mor, Elain and he did. Against what Tomas did.

Amren, Lucien and Azriel kept their mouths shut remaining respectful to Nesta, even placated to the others to be patient with her, but none of them listened.

They only argued with her more, and the more she pushed away. The more she retreated into the person Tomas had molded her into.

“Cass. I’m sorry. I was wrong. We were wrong.”

“Get out of my face.” He growled and shoved Rhys off of him, he rushed off the infirmary again, ignoring as Rhys called after him.

No matter how angry at Rhys he was, or at the others. He was really only angry at himself. For being an idiot. For the way he treated Nesta when she clearly was in an abusive situation.

One he didn’t know enough about but everything was clear now, the blank coldness in her eyes, the pale blue sadness of her face, the fear expressed in her body language.

A language he wasn’t ready to speak yet or understand until he saw the evidence written all over her stunning face.

As he entered the Hospital wing with Rhys not so far behind him, he heard sobs coming from the far corner in the room. Madam Alis reprimanded him as he ran across the room to Nesta.

Gwyn and Emerie stood in each other's arms outside of curtains, tears running down their cheeks. Azriel stood nearby offering his solemn comfort whenever they needed it. Lucien loomed near the curtains.

Mor had been standing behind when he ran past the entrance, a regret and sorrow written on her face as she bit her manicured nails in an anxious habit.

Amren had stayed near the entrance with Mor as well, she probably wouldn’t admit it but she was trying to keep her emotions in check.

Past the curtain, he saw Nesta, more bruises and cuts littering her arms and probably her legs. He could tell the wounds were both physically and magically inflicted.

Elain sat on the end of the cot holding Nesta’s hand and Feyre crouched by Nesta’s other side holding her sister’s charmed bracelet in her hand. One Nesta never took off, and on that wrist Cassian could see the bruises on her wrist, fresh and red.

There was only one person to blame and the Gryffindor never wanted to hurt anyone so much in his life.

Cassian blocked everything out as he stared at her, the haunted look of the beautiful Ravenclaw queen.

Her features looked so soft he wanted to brush his fingers gently on her cheek, check her pulse and make sure she was still breathing, that she was still alive.

Rhys stood behind him, no longer stoic, his expression looked horrified.

Helion reappeared with Madam Madga and they began to explain the situation. Cassian did his best to listen in despite the dizzy and nauseous feeling in his stomach.

Their Headmaster tried to sound as professional and diligent as he could but there was that hint of emotion in his voice that loomed in the air. “Another student found her in an empty classroom. From what I’ve gathered, the assault did not take place there but probably in the abandoned corridor of the sixth floor. I won’t go into details but Nesta must’ve escaped and fought very hard and managed to hide in a classroom until she was found unconscious, I'm afraid in her own blood. We have yet to figure out who did this. But there was more than one assailant from the extremity of her wounds.”

“We know who did this.” Cassian seethed, barely recognizing his voice. Helion’s frown grew further.

“Not now.” Azriel warned behind him.

Madam Madga finally spoke, directing her soft but firm voice onto Feyre and Elain. “She broke her ribs but luckily they are healing quite nicely, no signs of internal bleeding, and the bruising had improved since she was brought to me an hour ago. As for her head injury, it’s not as grave as I feared, she will probably only be asleep for a few hours due to the exhaustion from the assault. She will have to stay here a couple of days until her ribs are completely healed, but overall she will survive this. Nesta is a fighter, you should be proud.”

Cassian so wanted to believe the words, but it hurt to imagine that Nesta’s wounds were worse than they were now; it felt like someone had ripped his entire being from his chest.

And she had been here all alone for an hour already. While he pitied himself for not doing good enough.

“When she does wake up I would like to have Madam Clotho here to talk to Nesta about what happened. So no discussing the events when she wakes up, I want no distress caused to my patient. Understood?”

They all nodded in acknowledgement.

Headmaster Helion rested behind as the healer left to get Nesta some ointment and more bandages. He glanced at Nesta sadly and then walked over to his son squeezing his shoulder in a loving embrace.

It was easy to see where Lucien got his loyalty and kindness from.

“I’m so sorry Nesta. I’m so sorry.” Her sisters whispered in between tears.

I’m sorry Nesta. I failed you.

Nesta’s chest only barely rose, weakly so, it was far too difficult to watch.

But the Ravenclaw was a fighter and too wise for her demise to be another bastard of a wizard. And when Cassian found that wizard he would make him pay.

A whimper escaped past her dry, swollen lips. On instinct, he fell to his knees, she always brought him to his knees, he touched the tips of fingers letting her know he was there with magic at his fingertips.

“Nesta. You’re safe. Nothing’s going to happen. No one’s going to hurt you again.” She calmed down at the sound of his voice but it did nothing to calm him. It only hurt him more.

A few hours later in the morning Nesta had finally woken up. Most of them stayed the night beside Nesta’s cot, in case she woke up, they didn’t want her waking up alone. Not after she’d been alone in hell for almost half a year.

But only Cassian held her hand. Him being the only to soothe Nesta whenever she trembled and cried in her sleep.

Her eyelashes fluttered open, eyes widened in fear, her bottom lip quivered and trembled, silver lined her hollow stare. They watched patiently as Nesta’s memory fell into place, the realization, the horror and the same clustered on her face in one torturous expression.

In a heart wrenching moment Cassian and Nesta’s eyes met. He completely stopped breathing, all he wanted to do was to hold her in his embrace and reassure it was going to be okay. He wasn’t sure he even had the right to do that.

A sob escaped past her lips, she brought a hand to her mouth to silence it but only tears began to fall past her lashes and she squeezed her beautiful eyes shut in desperation to stop crying only to fail and fail again.

As Nesta cried, Elain held her in her arms trying not to cry with her older sister. She whispered apologies into her sister's hair.

When Magda and Clotho arrived, Nesta allowed them all to stay, saying there was no point in hiding and lying anymore, that it was time to tell the truth, time to explain what happened, that they deserved an explanation, when they really didn’t deserve anything from her.

They gave her room to breathe, to think, to get her mind in order. She was traumatized and none of them could ever imagine what they must’ve been like

Taking a deep breath, she began to open her mouth, it took her a few tries to find her voice. It was as if she had lost for so long she didn’t know how to be or speak anymore.

“Tomas–– he was kind at first. He seemed perfect actually despite all the rumors. I didn’t fall for it in the beginning, but he was persistent in the way that he was pursuing me that made me think I was worth all the trouble, it was nice to feel that way for once. I thought who everyone thought he was was just an act, he made it seem that way. But the act was the person he made me believe he was.” She shuddered as if reliving it all over again.

“He was romantic, like the princes in fairy tales.” She sounded so small like a child, so naive and hopeful and she was ashamed when there was no reason to be.

“No one was ever like that with me, not really anyways, perhaps that was the problem. I mistook his possessiveness as passion and his deceit as kindness and love. He told me he loved me and I believed him. He deceived me into thinking I loved him too. He tore me down only to build up again in the way he wanted. To control me. To possess me.”

He shuddered, thinking of Nesta, the sweet hopeless romantic in her she kept so hidden leaping out when Tomas, who as bad as they come, deceitfully appealed to her love of romance using his Slytherin attributes for cruelty.

“At the time I just wanted someone to like me. Really like me. It was so stupid. I–– I was so stupid.”

“Don’t say that.” Cassian said passionately but she still kept her gaze on her hands.

She paused trying to find the words. “I listened to him. I did as he told me. Because I thought he loved me.” Nesta choked on emotions. “I–– I let him call me a Mudblood. Let him diminish me to my blood status. Let him put me down as a witch, as a person. Because deep down I thought it was true.” Furious tears ran down her cheeks, Nesta sobbed quietly as she could, trying to regain composure.

Cassian couldn’t even begin to put into words how horrified and tortured he was to learn this. He knew deep down Nesta felt inferior for being Muggleborn but the fact that Tomas preyed on that and used it against her to control her, to shape her into something she was not.

“He made me think I wasn’t good enough. That I wasn’t good enough for anyone, anyone but him. So I should be grateful for him. He made me believe I only needed him and that he was the only one who really cared about me. That he was the only one willing to deal with me. I was drowning in self hatred that I believed every word from his mouth. Sometimes I don’t know if it’s his voice or mine in my head telling me these awful things.”

Tears fell down Cassian’s face hearing her speak such depraved and degrading things about herself.

“That's why I pushed everyone away. I believed that I was such a burden. That I believed you were all better off without me. That Tomas was the only one who really loved me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt any of you, I just––”

“Nesta––”

“Wait, I can finish. I can do this. I’m okay.” She said it fiercely even as she cried, Gwyn and Emeri held her hand tighter in silent support. “It was just words at first, he called me horrible things and he would be jealous and make me feel worse when I didn’t spend every minute with him.”

“That bastard.” Snarled Emerie.

Another deep breath in between her sobs. “When I wasn’t suffocating on his possessive grip during the holidays, I didn’t feel so sad, the voice was more quiet in my head, not so loud that I couldn’t hear anything else. But then we came back and it got worse because I didn’t write to him enough. Started guilting me for–– for more things.” She swallowed as if the words were too horrible and awful to say.

“I–– I don’t know why I stayed. His friends even started to mock me, belittle me and I let them. I let them because I was made to believe I deserved it. Then he hit me for the first time when he was angry, but he promised not to do it again when I tried to leave, and I had no one anymore, I believed I had no one, and he knew that. So I stayed.”

The silence in the room was palpable, it was worse than anything any of them had thought. So much worse. And Nesta felt alone. Believed Tomas’s words because they didn’t let her think otherwise.

“Then Valentine’s came along, he set up something romantic but he only wanted–– he only wanted… sex.” Nesta now looked away, the words present in her eyes but they waited for her to say it. For herself she needed to say it. “He tried to–– he tried to force me.” A broken sob sounded out of her beautiful lips.

Devastation tore through Cassian like a Stupefy, he felt frozen into place with rage and sorrow.

“I fought him. It was the one thing I couldn’t let him take from me. I was so scared for so long, and I didn’t want to be scared anymore. So I fought back for once. Then I told him it was over but it wasn’t over for him when he cornered me in the hallway with his friends.”

For a while no one said anything, no one was quite sure what to say.

“I’m sorry.” Nesta whispered, Cassian could hear in his voice that after everything she said she blamed herself. Tomas, who took advantage of a 15 year old girl, who abused her. And Nesta blamed herself. “I was naive and dumb. I’m sorry. Please for––”

“No.” Cassian said firmly, taking a step towards her, and before Nesta could cry and cower into herself he quickly spoke. “You have nothing to apologize for. You did nothing wrong, Nesta. It is me who should apologize to you. I am sorry, sweetheart. I should’ve been there.”

“But––”

“No buts Nesta. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were misled and manipulated and none of us stopped it.” Gwyn said softly.

“That’s- that’s not your fault.” Nesta defended. Cassian would’ve found humor in how she defends the people that she cares about even from themselves, even when they’ve wronged her somehow.

“It is. For not being there for you. For enabling him by letting you go. That is the part we played.” Elain approaches hesitantly. “And I’m so sorry Nesta. I’m sorry.”

“I deserved it.”

“No you didn’t.” Cassian growled, furious that anyone would ever let her believe such a thing. Nesta met his eyes unbelievingly.

“We were awful to you, when we should’ve been there for you. You didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry. We love you so much.” Nesta pulled Feyre into a hug, they sobbed with each other in understanding, with love in both their hearts. “We love you Nesta. We all love you.”

“Thank you.” She whispered back. It was clear that her words said I love you too but she wasn’t ready to say them yet not after everything.

Mor wiped a tear from her face. Azriel and Lucien stood tensely behind as their friend and girlfriends cried. They were all devastated.

Nesta did not deserve this. Yet she believed all this time that she did. And Cassian let her.

“Nesta, I think coming to my office to visit me to talk at least once a week about all this would really help. I think you would benefit from it a lot. I can’t force you but I would highly suggest it for your healing process.” Clotho said, meeting Nesta’s gaze with kindness and understanding.

“Nesta. You are very brave and I am proud of what you did today. There will be consequences for them rest assured. They will never hurt you again.” Helion clarified, gently patting Nesta’s leg before walking off to handle the issue.

“When would I be able to leave? Could I leave today?”

“When you’re healed. That’s when you can leave.” Cassian retorted with a small disbelieving glare.

“Cass!” Feyre exclaimed.

“I’m afraid Mr. Aziz is right. Ms. Archeron I would like you to stay a few days just to make sure everything is alright and for your safety as well.”

They were all alarmed.

“What do you mean her safety?” His anger and concern mixed together that he couldn’t contain his tone.

“Cassian, could you please calm down.”

Cassian only glared further into the wall as if it would magically combust into flames. Which was entirely probable.

“Just in case of pain, internal bleeding or she loses consciousness. I can run diagnostics on her every few hours while she rests.”

“Is everyone going to keep talking like I’m not here?” Nesta sported an adorable frown, reminding them of their Nesta before Tomas.

It sparked hope in every wizard and witch that she was going to recover. But of course she was going to recover. This was Nesta fucking Archeron.

Gwyn and Emerie laughed and sobbed at the same time, smiling at the fire still in their best friend. Gwyn patted her head lovingly, the way she always did and to Cassian’s heart wrenching delight Nesta’s eyes lighted up.

“Sorry Nes.” Emerie pressed a kiss on her cheek.

The three girls had so quickly returned to their playful caring ways Cassian felt a bit envious. He wanted to touch her, hold her, kiss her, when did he not? He had suppressed his under the alcohol and shameless flirting but Nesta was the only witch in his heart.

He was forever bewitched by her.

“I have one request. But you all have to promise. Okay?”

They all promised with little private smiles on their faces, because it was such a Nesta thing to do, to make them all promise. Her commanding pretty voice was even coming back.

“Cassian?” She inquired when he didn’t respond, only continuing to glower. He met her eyes, filled with hope again, he wanted to protect it and make sure no one ever took it from her again.

“I promise, sweetheart.” He said earnestly, trying to convey his feelings through his stare.

For the first time in months, Nesta smiled. “Don’t treat me differently. Please. I don’t want to be treated like glass.”

As Cassian was about to protest. “You promised,” she reminded and he faltered, a small grin on his lips. This was Nesta. Fierce, intelligent and beautiful.

Magda began to shoo them away and kick them out so Nesta could properly rest. They began saying their goodbyes. But Cassian wasn’t ready to leave her.

“You're brave, girl. Make the world regret it.” Amren smirked, walking over to pat Nesta’s cheek.

She nodded to Amren in thanks as the Slytherin left, they were friends of little words.

“You’re a survivor, Nes.” Cassian decided to say. “A badass.” Azriel chimed in.

“I am.” It sounded like a question.

“Yes, yes you are.” Gwyn and Emerie sang, humming Destiny's child.

“I am.” She smiled, painful, heartbroken but it was clear to everyone in that room Nesta was going to survive this and she was going to thrive.

Cassian stayed behind as they said goodbye to probably finally get sleep in their own beds.

“I love you.” Elain said to her older sister as she hugged her gently, stroking her hair. “I’ll be back in a few hours. I’m here for you.” She kissed Nesta on her cheek and walked away with Lucien.

Feyre did the same. Then Gwyn and Emerie cried a bit more and bid their goodbye promises of a sleepover, chocolate cake and books. Those friendship bracelets weren’t for nothing.

No one said anything as Cassian stayed behind.

Now alone, the words he snarled at her came back rushing into his mind, like a scar wound reopening, bleeding out his heart.

‘I thought you were smarter than that Nesta. How could you be so stupid as to fall for a guy like him?’

“Nesta.” He began when they were finally alone, he knelt over her bed, tears in his eyes apologizing to her over and over again.

“Cassian. No more apologies. No more. It’s not your fault. Please don’t blame yourself. Please.”

He nodded slowly, the movement was fueled with hesitation. Looking up to stare into her precious blue eyes. Both their gazes were watery and filled to the brim with emotion and unspoken words.

“Will you stay?”

“For you, anything.” He smiled at her with his entire heart. He gently crawled into the bed with her holding her cold frail body to his, enveloping her in his warmth.

“I missed you.” He said quietly after a while, stroking her soft hair and back softly, it was almost natural, like they belonged in each other's arms. He always dreamed of this, of them together.

“I missed you too, Cassian.” She whispered against his chest, where she nuzzled her little nose. He melted at the way she said his name, he had never loved her more.

I love you, he wanted to say. But now was not the time. Not yet.

“I’m tired of being scared. I’m tired of drowning. I don’t want to live like this anymore. I want to be happy again.” She confessed, she always did blurt out the way she felt about things randomly in an off guard way.

It had always been difficult for her to be vulnerable, she was terrible at handling her powerful emotions.

He wiped the tears from her face. How long had she been like this drowning, lost in what everyone else wanted and forgetting she had needs and desires too?

“I promise you, love. You will. You will. I’ll make sure of it.” He vowed, holding her closer, breathing in her sweet scent.

“I won’t let anyone ever hurt you again. I promise. We’ll get through this together. All of us. You’re not alone anymore. Never again.”

“Never again.” She repeated with a sleepy voice, her eyelashes fluttered shut, Cassian felt the exhaustion with her. His emotions were draining and all he wanted was to fall asleep with her safe in his arms.

So he did.

One month ago

Cassian was packing up after Transfiguration, his eyes caught on the beautiful Ravenclaw talking to the professor brightly with a genuine smile on her face.

What a long way she had come in seven months, everything she had managed to accomplish in little time. She had survived and she was all the better for it, all the stronger and all that more loved by those around her.

Lucien joined Nesta and Helion, teasing his father and Nesta for their love in the same books. Cassian smiled when he heard her laugh. The lovely witch graciously bid them goodbye.

She made her way to the door on her beautiful long legs, her long golden brown hair moving like smooth waves along the shore, he wanted to dive his finger into her luscious locks.

Amren and Mor shared a knowing look rolling their eyes while Rhys and Azriel cackled at him for being such a puppy for Nesta Archeron. He didn’t care.

Rhys sighed audibly in good humor. “Go after her.” Azriel joked with an amused smirk.

“Make it official already.” They called after him, encouraging even Lucien gave him the thumbs up and while Helion threw him a wink.

Busybodys.

“All in good time,” he called after them, running out to catch up with his favorite witch. He couldn’t wait to tell her how beautiful she looked, or tease her for wearing her uniform so perfectly. He could never decide.

As Cassian walked down the hallway, he heard loud voices taunting and mocking then he heard a feminine voice retort back proudly, it filled him with pride to hear that tone again and again.

But he was not happy about the situation, he increased his pace turning the corner to find Nesta sporting a fierce and powerful glare, her brows furrowed threateningly, her lips pursed, her eyes icy blue, confidence running through her spine. She looked like a queen and warrior, her wand tight and ready in her hand.

She was no longer the same girl from seven months ago. She was born from the ashes and came back as a rising Phoenix. A new flame burned in her heart, a new kind of hope burst through her soul.

Damn, he really loved her. Took him too long to come to terms with it. But it wasn’t too late. He learned that now. From Nesta, he learned it was never too late.

Nesta was surrounded by four pureblood supremacist racist ass wizards, who stared at her with hungry cruel eyes too much like the wizard who ruined her life last year.

Never again. He told her.

“You better step away from her, before I fucking break your face into the wall. And I won’t need my wand to do that.” Cassian threatened as he sized them all up, he was bigger than them, he could easily take them on no doubt.

“What are you, her bodyguard?” One of them snarled.

“She doesn’t need a bodyguard, but she’s smarter than all of us to waste her time on you, but I, on the other hand, am not so smart and wouldn’t mind kicking your asses.” Cassian’s grin was feral.

They glared at him as they began to back off. “Whatever, she’s just a Mudblood whore, she’s not worth it.” Another one uttered loudly to his friend. He caught Nesta’s wince, her automatic response to the slur.

Cassian would’ve pounced on him, pounding him into the wall if it wasn’t for Nesta’s steps echoing away behind him.

“Nesta.”

“Leave me alone. Go away.” She responded dismissively, but Cassian did not listen.

He quickly caught up to her, following her down the hall, this was not how expected this to go.

“You’re upset.” He said walking up beside her.

“No. No I am not.” She bit out, the sound was constricting, and Cassian could hear the boiling emotion in her voice, a turmoil of years of hearing the same slur being thrown her way. Then last year she believing she deserved to be called that way. It was a lot.

“Huh? Really? I sure as hell would be.” He tried to say with a light playful tone as he followed her down the hall but he miserably failed at withholding the sorrow he felt for her.

“Well it’s a good thing then that you don’t have that problem.” Her voice was ice laced with anger and sadness as she snapped at him over her shoulder, increasing the pace of her stride, clearly trying to run away.

That wasn’t going to dwell well for him if she got away before he had the chance to talk to her, no more letting her run away, never again.

With very little effort he caught up to her with his much longer legs, smirking slightly in satisfaction when she huffed in annoyance and he caught a bit of amusement quirking at her lips.

“Nes.” He called out. When she made no point to stop, he called her name again.

“Nesta.” He punctuated every letter in her name with sheer determination and power, letting her know he wasn’t letting this go, not after how far she’d come since Tomas.

She only faltered a bit in her step as if she was hesitating but shook her head and continued on her way to where and what he had no idea, he could only assume it was the library or the Black Lake, her two favorite places on the entire castle grounds.

It was enough to make him spring forward and catch her slender arm in his much larger calloused hand, halting her to a stop.

“Nesta.” He took in the silver lining her beautiful blue grey eyes, the burrow of emotions from past and present swirling in her glazed irises. It was enough for his heart to break and make his knees buckle. It made him want to hurt every person that dared to hurt her, that ever caused that broken expression to fall on her face, completely shattering the cold beautiful mask she wore. In turn revealing the painfully hurt witch before him.

“Stop.” Her voice cracked, he could see how much it was taking for her to withhold the tears, to contain the aching pain. It was written all over her face but it was as if he was the only one able or allowed to read the words.

He didn’t respond to her meek attempt at pushing him away again; he knew better now, and she didn’t try to stop him when he cradled her cold cheek in his hand.

It took all his focus not to admire the way she fit so nicely his hand, the way his tan skin engulfed her smooth porcelain complexion. There was a beauty and art to the way they fit together. A painting that was meant to be seen. Like they were made for each other somehow, some way.

It wasn’t the first time he felt this way about her. It would never be the last.

His thumb brushed against her cheekbone gently, like he was playing a lulling song against her soft skin.

The way Nesta’s breath hitched, a small gasp elicited from her full lips, reminded Cassian that she had never been treated with such gentleness or care.

It reminded him again of Tomas. The 7th year Slytherin that slithered slimily into Nesta’s well guarded fortress of a heart. It wasn’t that long ago, the scars remained.

Even if Nesta no longer flinched or cowered in herself, there was still a flame of fear in her eyes that would not go out. The slur was a reminder of Tomas, how he broke her, of who she had become under his control.

She wasn’t that person anymore. Cassian reminded her with the look in his eyes. He was no longer afraid of showing her emotions. No longer afraid of rejection.

He was only patient. Waiting for Nesta to be ready. Allowing for Nesta to heal completely.

He demonstrated how he loved her in every way he could before she was ready to hear the words from his lips. Before she was ready to finally say it back.

He would wait. However long she needed.

“You can talk about it, Nesta. It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human. Talking about it won’t hurt you either. It helps remember.”

She nodded sadly but in understanding.

“It’s not about him, Cass. It’s about–– how I don’t want to be the person I was with him. I hated myself so much. I don’t want to be the girl who believed in that word.”

“I know sweetheart, I know.” He wiped her tears with his thumbs softly. He had done it more than once over the past seven months, he would always wipe her tears.

He nurtured her vulnerability and allowed Nesta to grow, to blossom, to find herself again with her tears. Because they made her strong. But damn, she still managed to be so beautiful when she cried, it should be a crime.

“I don't want to go back to that.” She told him.

“I won’t let you. As long as you let me. I will ground you, Nesta. I won’t ever let you believe a horrible thing like that again. You hear me? Never again Nesta. I will protect you when you need me and even when you don’t. I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

He lifted her chin for her to meet his gaze. An undying light was present in the blue grey stormy irises and there was no one able to put it out. Never again.

“I know. Cassian, I–” She faltered but the words in her eyes were clear even though she caught herself. “Thank you. You’re a really good friend.”

He smiled brightly at her. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me.”

Nesta’s laugh was quiet but lovely, his cheeks hurt by how happy he was right now.

“You deserve lots of nice things Cassian Aziz.” Then she rose on the tips of her toes, a hand on his broad firm chest, to press her plump rosebud lips to his cheek, soft and sweet, it was a dream come true.

As she pulled away her small breaths were hot against his skin, Cassian kept her close to him, his grip tightening to keep her lips hovering over his cheek, while his brushed against her temple.

“So do you, Nesta Archeron.” He said in a low voice, hunger and desire consumed him. Having her so close was really messing with his mind, her lavender and vanilla scent was like a love potion but it was her eyes that had him entranced like he was under some kind of spell.

This witch would be the end of him.

“Cassian.” She breathed. It was a confession in itself, filled with want and love. He could hear it. So clearly now.

He pulled away cupping her face in his large tanned hands. The words were written in her eyes, they had been for a long time.

Now he was no longer a coward. For Nesta, he would not fear rejection. No matter how deep his insecurities were. But for himself, he would be brave.

“I love you, Nesta.” He said as if he’d been holding the oxygen in his lungs captive.

“I’m sorry. I love you. Fuck. I love you so much. I can’t keep holding it in. I love you. I’ve loved you since you insulted my messy uniform, since you corrected my Transfiguration essay, since I saw that beautiful smile. Yes, that one. Merlin, I love you. I’m sorry it took me so long. I’m sorry I’m saying it now when I should’ve said ages ago. I love you with every magic fibre of my being. I love you, Nesta Archeron.”

Nesta’s answering smile was the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen in his life, he wanted Feyre to paint it for him, he wanted to take the memory to a pensive and watch it forever, the curl of her pink lips, the brightness in her eyes, the beauty on her face.

He wanted to keep that smile on her face till the end of time.

He would try to keep doing it for as long as she let him.

Nesta brought her hand from his chest to cup his cheek. “I love you too, you idiot. I’ve always loved you.”

In a breathtaking moment, their lips met, and time stopped. If Cassian hadn’t been born with magic, this moment, this kiss is how he would’ve described it. Better than he dreamed. So much better.

Her lips were soft against his, her mouth sweet, perfect and smooth. He never wanted anything more in his life. He began to nip her lips slowly then with increasing desperation he brushed his tongue against her pink inviting lips.

Her lovely gasp gave him entrance and he devoured her sweet taste, her sinuous tongue, her gorgeous lips.

“I love you.” He said against her lips.

“I love you.” He said against every kiss. “I love you.” He said in between kisses to her cheeks, her eyes, her jaw, the corner of her lips, her smile, down her neck.

Nesta kissed him again. Her arms securely around her neck, his around her tiny waist pulling him as close to his body. They both kissed each other with smiles on their swollen lips.

“I love you too.” Nesta whispered against his lips, this was the happiest he’d seen her in the past seven months, it made his heart beat out of his chest that he was the one, the lucky bastard that got to be the one who caused it.

“Does this mean you’ll finally go out with me, gorgeous?” He chuckled, brushing a strand of her pretty hair out her sweet face.

“Yes.” She breathed before cupping his face and kissing him again.

Present day

He was so hopelessly in love with Nesta, he could die from the overwhelming emotion.

He could never stop staring at her. He would never tire of her blossoming beauty. He didn’t know how to focus on anything other than his witch with her around.

Cassian wanted nothing more but this Potions class to be over so he could shower his beautiful girlfriend with kisses. One her lips, cheeks, neck, wherever she wanted his lips he wanted his lip.

His. His. His.

His friends chuckled and laughed at him for getting no work done, purely obsessing over his lovely witch.

Nesta looked up from her concentration, finally–– finally meeting his burning gaze. She smiled, blowing him a pretty kiss, causing his lips to uplift into a smirk.

The things he was going to do to her lips when he was free from the last lesson of the day.

Nesta and Cassian continued to exchange glances, occasionally he would go over to her table, tease her, flirt, play with her hair, write their names on her notes in a heart, whisper sweet nothings playfully into her ear until she turned as red as his house color.

“Go away Cassian! We are trying to work here.” Gwyn would tease, Azriel smirking from the table away at his adorable witch.

“Shoo wizard. Shoo!” Emerie would shove him away from Nesta, causing the beauty to giggle and laugh making it all too much harder to leave the table.

Finally they were dismissed and class was over, Nesta jumped happily into Cassian’s strong arms.

"Beautiful."

"Handsome."

“I’ve been waiting to do this all day sweetheart.” He kissed her lovingly, peppering her face with kisses.

“Ew.” Feyre falsified her disgust trying her best to hide her winning smile with Rhys’s arm around her shoulders. As if she wasn’t twice as worse with her Gryffindor boyfriend.

“Come on all you lovebirds. Hogsmeade waits for no wizards.” Rhys announced, making Feyre giggle.

Elain and Lucien embraced each other grinning ear to ear, Elain reaching up to kiss her wizard.

Gwyn and Emerie smirked following behind them with their respective partners. Azriel, having just as bad as Cassian, was walking with his girlfriend cradled in his arms. Emerie and Mor beside them holding hands.

Amren and Varian had disappeared long ago, gone to make out, and other devious things. That Slytherin would be the end of Varian no doubt.

Cassian smiled down happily at Nesta resting her head on his broad shoulder as they stared out at the Black Lake their fingers intertwined.

Here he was six years later, Nesta was his, he was hers.

His lips pressed softly against her temple, she grinned up at him with that precious smile that was reserved for him and only him.

"I'll always love you. In this life and in the next."

"Always."

Never again would they be apart.

Never again.

#nessian #angst #nesta archeron #cassian #fanfic #hogwartsau #fluff #tooth rotting fluff

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thewayshedreamed · 4 years

Text

This Time— Part 6

A Nessian Fan Fic

Fic Masterlist

This chapter offers some additional insight into Nesta’s thought process and sheds a little light on the ongoing process her emotional development has become. I hope it comes through!

This is somewhat of a “building” chapter so that we can get Nessian to the crest, so to speak. Part 7 is already written and only needs some editing, so it’s possible that I’ll be doing a double update today ☺️ They certainly have a lot to discuss, and once I started writing, I couldn’t stop. 😂 Anyway, enough of me. Enjoy!

Links to the previous parts:

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 ||

Warnings for grief related to the loss of a parent and some strong language.

——————————————————————————

Around 11:00 PM, Nesta decided she couldn’t be alone with her thoughts anymore. She was ruminating on similar memories and effectively raking herself over the coals. Although she knew any one of her friends would be there for her no matter the time of day, she picked up her phone to call the one she knew would most likely be awake at this hour.

“Hello?” Azriel’s raspy voice came through the phone.

“Were you asleep?! Since when do you go to bed early?” Her surprise was obvious by her tone. What the hell? He’s never in bed before midnight.

“Nes. Always a pleasure.” Azriel breathed a chuckle into the phone. “I usually wouldn’t be. I’m.. umm.. at a friend’s house tonight.”

Nesta gasped and dropped her voice. “Oh my gods. Az, were you on a date?! Am I interrupting?” She clapped her free hand over her forehead. “I’m the worst. I’m sorry.”

Another chuckle from Azriel. “You don’t have to whisper, you know. She can’t hear you. You’re not interrupting anything. I was asleep when you called, but I’m out on the couch now. What’s up?”

”If you were asleep, then that counts as interrupting! Are you sure?”

”Yes. Just, maybe the short version?” His tone was tentative, almost as if he felt guilty asking her to keep it concise at 11 PM. No one truly deserved Azriel as their friend.

“I can do that. So, here it is. I’ll save you the long, tedious trip through my brain.” She paused for half a second to take a breath. “I’m in love with Cassian.” She let out a quiet groan for effect.

”Mhmm...” The lilting of his voice implied that he was waiting for something like the punchline of a joke; the unknown part of her statement.

Her breath caught. “I kind of expected more of a reaction.”

”Did you? I thought there was more to it.” He seemed entirely neutral in that grating way of his.

”How did you know?!” She asked, incredulously.

”You told me.”

“Mm.. I don’t think so. When?” Now she was actually confused. Did she make some kind of drunken confession at Rita’s? She would remember having this revelation before now.

“At brunch. When we were driving home.”

”What are you talking about?!” Her voice was definitely higher pitched than it had been previously. She was anxious to hear his response, thinking he had surely dreamed this.

”Nesta. We were in my car, backing out of the parking lot. You asked me, ‘Why couldn’t we be the ones to fall in love?’ Or something along those lines. I thought that you were using some cryptic way of telling me because it implied two parties. Why do you think I hit the brakes so hard?” He seemed impatient, as if he was telling her the most obvious thing in the world.

“I thought maybe the question weirded you out! I didn’t even realize what I said, to be honest. How the actual fuck do you notice tiny things like that?” She didn’t wait on his response. He would know it was rhetorical. “Now my problem is this: I think he’s dating someone, so I’ve lost my chance.” She briefly told him what she had overheard the night of Elain’s birthday, her voice starting to crack toward the end.

”Hm. He hasn’t said anything to me about that, but I could see why he would wait being that you and I are close. But honestly, I don’t know that you could ever lose your chance with Cassian, Nes.”

She didn’t have anything to say to that. She simply sat there, playing with the corner of her throw blanket and hoping he would continue. He seemed to sense her discomfort and started talking again.

“I think you’ll regret it if you don’t talk to him. But, if I can offer my opinion, maybe wait a little while so that you know you’re absolutely sure this is what you want. I don’t know how he would handle it if you decided it’s not what you want.”

She felt herself prickle with defensiveness. “I wouldn’t do that to him, Az. Of course I’m sure. It only took me an eternity to figure this shit out.”

Azriel responded in a soothing tone he so often used with her. “I know. But remember, you’re not the one he talks to about you. I’m just looking out for my brother. Maybe let it marinate, yeah?”

She knew his intentions were pure, and she couldn’t really blame him for being protective. Before she could respond, she heard a feminine voice in the background ask: “Az, everything okay?”

She heard him pull the phone away from his face to answer. “Oh, yeah. All good. It’s Nesta.”

Delayed by her scattered brain and the copious amount of wine, the identity of the voice finally hit her full force.

”IS THAT ELAIN?!” She sat up straighter as if it would allow her to hear them more readily.

She heard Azriel laugh, followed by a shuffling on the other end.

“Hello? Nesta? Everything okay?” Nesta could hear the genuine concern in her voice.

“Hey, El. Everything’s fine! Sorry to crash your date. It seems we have quite a bit to talk about. Very soon.”

It took Elain a couple of seconds to respond, and Nesta could hear the smile in her voice. “Yeah. I think we do. Someone told me I should just talk to him. Turns out that they were right.” She paused, waiting for an “I told you so” from Nesta. She didn’t have the energy. “You know you can talk to me about Cassian, too, right?”

Nesta shut her eyes tightly and shook her head. “Of course. I’m sorry. I’ve been leaning on Az since our fight, and I honestly haven’t had the energy to bring it up beyond that. But I do want to talk to you. And Feyre. It’s just been...hard.”

“I can imagine. It’s hard to remember a time before you and Cass. It’s like the end of an era or something. Just know that we’re here.” Her voice was soft, laced with worry and a desire to help her older sister.

”Maybe for now,” Nesta teased, “but you may not have much time to chat these days.”

She knew she was blatantly deflecting, but El’s words had caused tears to prick her eyes yet again. It’s hard to remember a time before you and Cass. She realized how true it was, and what upset her the most was that she knew she didn’t want to know a time without Cassian.

The call wrapped up with more gentle teasing between the sisters, and eventually, embarrassing Azriel a bit over speakerphone. She told them she loved them and promised to keep them updated on how she was feeling. Her heart felt lighter once she finally ended the call, thanks to the laughter they managed to pull from her.

——————————————————————————

Christine Archeron’s death anniversary fell on a Tuesday that year, and Nesta awoke with a similar irritation as last year— death anniversaries should never fall on weekdays. She went through the familiar motions as any other morning, headed to work, and concentrated on her various tasks she was expected to juggle at any given time. As appearances went, it looked like any other ordinary day to those around her, so the extra heaviness remained hers alone to carry.

On her lunch break, she got a chance to pull her phone to check her messages and mindlessly scroll through social media. She had been focused on scrolling for so long that her phone took her by surprise when it vibrated in her hand. She tapped the notification by reflex and found herself studying the sender’s name as if it was some sort of mistake.

Cassian: Thinking about you today. I know it’s a rough one. Keep your head up. Christine would have it no other way ❤️

Nesta read the text several times in a row; just to make sure it was real. It had been so long since he’d contacted her intentionally, and it made her happy that he still thought to reach out today. It simultaneously made her a little sad; however, because it was yet another reminder of what she’d lost in him. That was an issue to deal with later.

Nesta: Of course you are, because you’re the perfect human, and I don’t deserve you. Thanks, Cass 💕 Means the world to me to hear from you. Mom really loved you, and I know she would appreciate you looking out for us.

She hesitated over the send button for several seconds before deciding to go through with it. It felt so weird to intentionally script any type of message to him being that they had spent most of their relationship entirely uncensored. Everything about it felt wrong— she couldn’t act natural with him because it wasn’t appropriate anymore, yet she didn’t feel right having to draft and redraft their communication. It was all so fucked, and she was tired of this odd limbo they stayed in.

She reflected on her conversation with Azriel and Elain on the night she had unintentionally crashed their date. She knew that they both held strong points about her situation and wouldn’t advise her to try to repair things if they knew it was a lost cause. She acknowledged that Azriel, specifically, knew more than he was at liberty to tell her. That being the case, she decided that was evidence in favor of hashing things out with Cassian. It wasn’t long before she was lost in her own thoughts, her food entirely forgotten.

I’ve spent my entire life trying to ensure I didn’t need anyone. I never wanted to depend heavily on another person in a way that I couldn’t manage on my own. But that’s not really the case anyway, right? I’ve managed fine these few weeks, but that’s the thing. I’ve managed. Why do I try to insist that’s enough for me?

But what if the door is closed? What if this was Cassian’s final push, and he’s gone? I don’t know Alis, and she could be wonderful. She probably appreciates the shit out of him and saw immediately that he’s not the average person. She probably knows how special he is. She probably beams anytime he enters a room and tries to take care of his heart in any way she can. She’s probably fucking delightful.

But does that really compete with history? I guess if that history is filled with turmoil, it could. She’ll never know the Cassian that was a freshman in high school— braces and curly hair, still a head taller than most of the other boys in class. She won’t remember how he hit his second growth spurt the summer after sophomore year, where he started to fill out and caught the attention of any girl with a pulse. She doesn’t know what it’s like when he’s truly angry with his dad and the world. She doesn’t know the full range of his eclectic music tastes or the guilty pleasures he sings depending on his mood. She didn’t do the leg work to reconcile the tough, intimidating exterior when he gets upset with the gentle soul beneath. There’s no way she knows when his humor and his laughter are distractions from his pain rather than when they’re genuine. She can’t love him like I do. Im-fucking-possible.

She was pulled abruptly out of her head, and incredible jealousy, by her alarm. It was time to go back to work and finish out the day, and she hoped it passed as quickly as possible. She silently chastised herself for piling this emotional time bomb on today of all days as she threw away her lunch and walked out of the break room.

So much for leaving this issue for later.

She resolved to put all of these thoughts back into their little box until she had the emotional energy to open the lid once again. Whenever the hell that would be.

——————————————————————————

The rest of the day zoomed by at a blissful pace, thank the gods. In fact, when Nesta glanced at the clock, she realized it was several minutes after 5:00 PM. She clocked out, grabbed her things, and climbed into her car. She took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself to make the drive out to the cemetery. She wasn’t sure what time Elain had been able to go by, but Nesta had agreed to meet Feyre at 5:30 to pay their respects. It was becoming a standing tradition, where they would make their short visit whenever they could during the day and follow with dinner together as a family.

She made it with a few minutes to spare, so she took that time to sit with her mom one-on-one. She gave her a brief update on her life, told her how much she loved and missed her, and gently brushed any leaves or grass clippings off of her headstone. There were fresh flowers in her vase, something she noted each year on her death anniversary. Any other time of year, they kept seasonally appropriate faux flowers to make sure her site was properly decorated. She made a mental note to offer to contribute to the fresh arrangement in the years following when she saw her family at dinner. They were always taken care of before she made it out to the cemetery, and she didn’t want to risk forgetting for the next year. She leaned into the arrangement, taking in the various floral scents emanating from the blooms in the bouquet. There was a myriad of vivid colors, wildflowers throughout, and Nesta loved how true to her mother’s spirit they were.

She turned when she heard car doors and saw Feyre approaching with Rhysand. She stood, extending an arm out to her baby sister, who accepted it readily and rested her head on her shoulder. They wrapped their arms around each other, and Rhysand stood nearby, resting his hand on Feyre’s opposite shoulder. They stood together for several minutes until Nesta excused herself to allow Feyre some time alone with their mom as well.

She drove to her father’s house where she found Elain already setting the table for dinner. They worked together quietly, making sure they had plenty of place settings for everyone. Azriel offered his help to carry various dishes of food to the dining table and took his seat next to Elain once it was all settled. Almost as if on cue, Feyre and Rhysand walked into the house and took their seats as well. The dinner started off quiet considering the somber mood, but Feyre was the first to break the tension when she started to tell stories from their childhood. In a matter of moments, their home was filled with animated story telling and loud bouts of laughter, and Nesta couldn’t think of a better way to honor her mom’s love of life.

As everyone finished up, she suddenly remembered her mental note from earlier. She waited for a natural lull in conversation, then commented softly, “Mom’s flowers were beautiful, you guys. You did an amazing job.”

”They were really perfect. They couldn’t have been more ‘Christine’ if you tried,” Feyre remarked.

“Elain, Dad. I’m not sure which of you took care of them this year, but would you let me take care of next time? I haven’t contributed since she passed, and I’d really like to.”

Mr. Archeron softly shook his head back and forth, communicating to Nesta that it hadn’t been him. Nesta adjusted her gaze to Elain who looked just as confused.

“Oh. Nes, I assumed it was one of you. I didn’t... I didn’t order them. I wished I had.” She looked down at her hands, and Azriel placed a supportive arm across the back of her chair.

“Okay... so who did?” She glanced around the table from person to person, but no one took any credit. It was Rhys who spoke up first, clearing his throat to master his voice.

“You don’t know?”

”Obviously.” She looked to Feyre for support. What the hell is that supposed to mean? Feyre said nothing, watching Rhysand talk with rapt attention.

When he spoke again, it was cautious, as if his words may startle her. “Nesta. The flowers are from Cassian. He’s done them every year since Mrs. Christine died.”

She was suddenly short of breath. Everyone’s attention snapped to Rhys, including her father’s. Her sisters and Azriel were looking at Rhysand with stunned expressions, their eyes flicking to her face occasionally.

“What? How could you know— why would you know, when we don’t? What the fuck is going on?” She was falling over her own words, struggling to form any cohesive thought.

”I’m so sorry,” Rhysand glanced around the room for the first time, realizing he had everyone’s attention. “The only reason I knew was because he asked me to make sure they made it from the flower shop to her gravesite the year he had knee surgery. He asked me to keep it to myself then, but I figured by now he would have said something to at least one other person.” He looked down into his plate, various emotions playing over his handsome face. Feyre leaned over to comfort him, knowing he was likely embarrassed to be the reason the air had changed so dramatically.

Nesta’s head was swimming, emotions roiling from a million different directions. She knew anger was cheap and unfair, but she pulled on that tether as hard as she could to make sure she could navigate everything she was processing. She was on her feet suddenly, pushing her chair away from the table and walking toward her keys.

“I have to go.” She couldn’t be in here anymore. The room was too small, the walls were too close. Too many people. She picked up the pace, flinging the door open and shutting it hard behind her. She was down the porch steps when she heard the door open again. Azriel’s voice followed her.

”Nesta. Where are you going? Nesta, stop!” He had jogged lightly to catch up with her, and he tugged her gently by the wrist to stop her. She spun on him quickly, eyes flaring and brimming with tears.

“Anywhere but here! What the fuck was that, Az?”

He said nothing; looked down at his own feet as he shook his head.

“Cassian has some fucking nerve, you know that? Why is he insisting upon himself?” Her voice was lowered and had taken on an almost eerie quality; the calm before the proverbial storm.

“Nes, I don’t think he meant to upset you. It sounds like it’s something he’s made somewhat of a tradition. Maybe he just wanted to be sure and see it through.”

”He doesn’t get to do that anymore, Azriel. He doesn’t get to butt-dial me while he makes date plans with some girl, then turn around and send flowers to my dead mother. What am I supposed to think about that? And how would that make his girlfriend feel?” Azriel pulled her into a hug at that, resting his chin on top of her head. He didn’t answer her. There was nothing to say.

She pulled away from him, gripping her keys, and walked toward her car. “I’m out. Tell them I love them, and I’ll call tomorrow.” She nodded her chin toward the house, climbed into her car, and backed out of the driveway.

——————————————————————————

She wasn’t sure how long she’d driven before she found herself in his driveway. She knew it hadn’t been very long considering the sun was still clinging to the end of the day. She honestly didn’t remember making the conscious decision to come here, likely fueled by anger and muscle memory more than anything else. She was still so frustrated at her situation, her emotions spilling over and refusing to be put into that stupid fucking box anymore. The worst part was that, as mad as she was with him, she so badly wanted to see him. She wished the circumstances were less complicated so that she could knock, ask for a hug and some tea, and lay on his couch. They were a hell of a long way from those people now.

She loosed a breath, puffing her cheeks with air and exhaling slowly. Just before she peeled her head from the headrest to get out, his front door opened. He opened it most of the way, then leaned against the door jamb on his shoulder. He had his hands in the pockets of his sweats and one of his ankles crossed casually over the other. For a moment, she only looked at him, unable to move or offer any type of acknowledgement. She took in the charcoal henley he was wearing, unbuttoned save for the very last one. The small flap of the opening leaned to the side, revealing the base of his neck and the beginning of his tattoos. He looked so very Cassian, casual and laid-back, that she struggled to keep her emotions level at the mere sight of him. His hair was down, looking like he had just run his fingers through it with its deep part and how it fell haphazardly around his face. He was wearing his reading glasses, she noticed, the thick frames highlighting the sharp angle of his cheekbones and the wide set of his jaw. He gave her a soft smile, and cocked his head to the side and back in invitation. She could almost hear him gently telling her to “get in here”.

Too late to turn back now.

——————————————————————————

A/N: Alrighty, hope y’all enjoyed this chapter, even with minimal Nessian. The next chapter(s) will more than make up for it, though! I’m hoping to have max Nessian to y’all ASAP. A million thanks to all of you who continue to follow this au. Your comments/ feedback have meant the world to me!

If you’d like to be tagged, feel free to comment, reblog, or send a message! I’d be happy to add you to the list. If I’ve accidentally left you off or there are issues with your tag, let me know, and I’ll look into it! Comments and constructive criticism are welcome (even encouraged)!

Tags:

@polireader // @lord-douglas-the-third // @justgiu12 // @notyournymphetish // @sjm-things // @strangeenemy // @iammissstark // @keshavomit // @sjmships // @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks // @dusty-lightbulb // @texas-shaped-waffle-maker // @julemmaes // @charincharge // @superspiritfestival // @awesomelena555 // @sleeping-and-books // @hizqueen4life // @maastrash // @bookstantrash // @rhyswhitethorn // @grace-k-sterling // @sayosdreams // @sis-it-dont-add-up // @ladywitchling // @b00kworm // @courtofjurdan

#nessian #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #nesta #cassian #acotar #nessian au #nessian fwb #nessian angst #nessian fanfic #acowar #acomaf #archeron sisters #acotar fanfic #sjm #sarah j maas

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shamelessfestpeanut · 4 years

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Elain Archeron - The Excusable Sister

I am not here to claim that I hate Elain Archeron. But I can't say I am Team Elain either, cause that would also be a lie. Elain is Elain", the famous line was once said about the middle Archeron sister. But who is Elain Archeron? What do we truly know about her? We know the basics; she is the green thumb, the gentle sister, the seer. But what are her hopes, her dreams, her desires? What are her fears? How could I like or dislike a character I know so little about? But I know I can't stand behind her, not truly, until she takes accountability for her actions. She has been coddled, protected and spared from harm by her father, her sisters, her ex-fianceé and the rest of the IC for years. At first, I thought that's how Elain wanted it, but in ACOSF, apparently, she expressed desire to stand on her own. To step out of the comfort zone people in her life have been given her, and to be her own person. And that's all cool and dandy. But, there is one thing to say that, and the other one to do it - and I need to see her own up to that. Because, it's not that I don't like Elain Archeron - I can't connect with her.

Not like I could with Nesta, or even Feyre. How could I? Nesta and Feyre were nearly killed several times, watched their father being brutally murdered, one was kidnapped by a man who saw her as his property and the other has been almost raped twice. They both were closed to death and thought they were worthless enough that they deserved to be dead. And Elain? She has been through a lot of bad things, but she was never broken. She has never hit the rock bottom and shattered into thousands pieces. Not like Feyre. Not like Nesta. Not like priestess in that library.

Elain Archeron has fallen deep, and then landed safely on the backs of her family, were there to protect her; because Elain is Elain.

I'm not saying that Elain needs to be broken in order for me to respect her as a character, but she needs to step up and be an active member in her own life.

And that's starts with Lucien. If she wants to be with him, great, if she doesn't - also cool, but she needs to tell him that. Enough of this silent treatment, snubbing, ignoring, pretending he doesn't exist. Enough of sneaking shy glances to Azriel, almost kissing him while her mate sleeps upstairs. Elain deserves to choose the man she wants to spend her life with, but she also derserves to give Lucien a concrete answer, even if it's a decline of a mating bond. She needs to say no, and let him be free to love a person who's going to love him back 100%. Elain doesn't need to give her femininity in order to become a heroine of her own life, but people need to stop excusing her actions. For years I've been watching how people bite into Nesta for not stepping up and providing for her family. But if Elain was as half as good gardener as her sisters claimed her to be, she could have feed the entire Archeron family for years. Her gardening skills wouldn't bring them their fortune back, but it would help them enormously. I am still waiting for an explanation on why Elain grew flowers and not food in her garden. In the end of the day, I like that the middle Archeron sister is soft, feminine, nature loving girl. It's a welcome change. Not everyone can be Kelpie slaying, death promising, Attor killing saviours like Nesta and Feyre. Nor does Elain needs to be.

But what Elain Archeron should be striving for is owning up to her behaviour and stepping out of her perfect, fairytale garden, into an imperfect, yet true life.

#elain archeron #pro elain #acosf #sjmaas

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thebluemartini · 5 years

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Far From the Shallow - Chapter 6 [Nessian Fic]

TITLE: Far From the Shallow SYNOPSIS: Post-ACOFAS. As part of a deal with Feyre, Nesta has agreed to live with Cassian in the Illyrian Mountains. However, shortly after her arrival, she receives the startling news that she’s pregnant from one of her one-night stands. While she tries to quickly get a grip on her life, Cassian’s determined to make her see that she’s not facing this alone.

FIC LENGTH: Multi-chapter (Total Chapter Estimate: 14)

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 TAGGING:@dreaming-of-bohemian-nights @queenofillea1 @trash-for-nessian @nestaarcheronwillkillme @my-fan-side @strangeenemy @maastrash @cageddovepoetry @bybooksanddreams @lilbat90 @ritamordio19 @mastercommandercaptain @feysand-dot-acotar @archeron-queen @welcometothespeaknowworldtour @empress-ofbloodshed @there-is-warmth-in-winter @mybbyfeyre @saltydreamcollector @justlikethecheshirecat @mis-lil-red @supebowlere @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @everything-that-i-love

*This chapter is also posted on AO3 and FF

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CHAPTER 6: January - Part II

At first, Cassian had assumed (or, well, maybe hoped) that Nesta’s anger toward him after their fight in Velaris would dissipate after a few days. However, he should have known that Nesta’s stubbornness was unlike any other and that she would hold onto that anger for much longer.

But he certainly didn’t expect it to last for ten days and counting.

When they first got back from Velaris, he tried to talk to her and explain to her that all his words and actions that day weren’t tactics to convince her to talk to her sister. He honestly meant everything he had said and done.

But she wouldn’t listen of course. Instead, she stormed off into her room and shut the door.

For every moment he was home, she was holed up in her room. He only knew she was alive based on the fact that after he would leave her meals outside her door, he would find empty bowls and plates outside in the same spot a few hours later.

At least she kept eating.

He had no way of knowing if she left her room when he wasn’t in the cabin. He hoped she did. He hoped she still took walks outside too. She seemed to enjoy walking so much.

Gods, he missed her.

In the past, he never enjoyed when he had to go live in the Illyrian Mountains for long periods of time. If Rhys or Azriel weren’t with him, it was an awfully lonely place to be. When your own kind treated you as an outsider...it wasn’t an enjoyable experience.

Initially, having Nesta here with him seemed like a dreadful idea. Dealing with her rage on top of the idiotic Illyrians sounded like a complete disaster. But it wasn’t.

Instead, she started helping him deal with the Illyrians. And eating and living with her made him feel...content. His previous loneliness had vanished, and he found he didn’t dislike living there quite as much as he did before.

She wasn’t afraid to verbally spar with him, she always kept him grounded, and she’d been there for him in helping with the Illyrians.

And then he screwed everything up. Now he felt lonely, grouchy, and frustrated all the time. He fought the urge to bust down her door, fearing that would infuriate her more. He had thought leaving her alone would help her to cool down faster...but now he was concerned she would never see or speak to him again.

And that thought hurt like hell.

Surely, she’d talk to him again soon.

...he hoped.

But for now, he would use his pent-up frustration to fight harder in the training ring.

_______________________________________________________________

Nesta looked around Cassian’s study as she sat in the middle of the room’s floor. With one hand resting on her growing belly, she fought the urge that coursed through her.

Alcohol. Alcohol. Alcohol.

Forget. Forget. Forget.

Ever since Cassian took her to Velaris and revealed he had wanted her to talk to her sister, that desire to drink had returned. Because, while telling herself that she did not care about him, this revived desire to forget showed that she actually did. It hurt too much when he betrayed her...after how he had made her feel that day.

But the baby. She couldn’t harm the baby.

So each day since her spat with Cassian in Velaris, she woke up frustrated with Cassian and had that urge to drink. When he’d leave for the day, she’d head into his study - the room he had said he was transforming into the baby’s room.

She needed a physical reminder that she would soon be having a baby. That there was someone she needed to live for and be strong for in this world.

And indeed, the study no longer looked like a study. Over the course of the ten days since her visit to Velaris, it had been cleared out. (By Cassian, she assumed.) All that remained was one large chest for clothing.

But today, there was a new object in the room.

Sitting before her was a large wooden crib. Most likely the one he had said he’d been making for her baby.

It was not finished. It had been constructed, but it still needed to be painted.

While the room helped remind her of what was to come in a few months, it also tugged at her...feelings toward Cassian. But then she’d catch herself and remember that while he did this for her and the baby, it was for the sake of his mother and her sister.

Not for her. It couldn’t have been for her. That infuriating male was all about loyalty. Loyalty to his mother and loyalty to his High Lord and Lady.

There was no room in that devotion for him to be devoted to…

She didn’t dare finish off that thought.

The point was...she needed to emotionally keep her distance from everyone. She only needed to keep her focus on the baby and no one else.

Rubbing circles on her belly and closing her eyes, she groaned with frustration over her desire to drink. Thankfully, there was no alcohol available within the cabin.

A loud creak and the sound of footsteps against the floorboards broke her out of her focus, causing her eyes to shoot open. Cassian didn’t usually come home until dusk. With a quick glance over to the window, she noticed the sun was still shining brightly.

Quickly, Nesta stood up. Whenever Cassian was home, she always stayed in her room. They hadn’t laid eyes upon each other in ten days, and she certainly intended to keep her distance from him.

She needed to protect herself.

And she didn’t want him to find her in the study-turned-baby’s room.

Peeking outside the room, she looked into the living room. Upon finding him nowhere in sight, she assumed he was either in the kitchen or had gone upstairs to his room. She took her chance and skittered across the living room toward her room.

But before she could open her door, she looked down the hall and could see into the kitchen, where she found Cassian standing without a shirt on....and with crimson blood all over his chest.

Blood…

She couldn’t look away from the bright color that called and demanded her attention. It was something she could not ignore.

Before she knew what she was doing, she bolted toward the kitchen with her pounding heart matching her footsteps.

Once she reached the kitchen, she found him wincing as he stood before a cupboard and dug for something as the blood poured out of a large, deep gash on his shoulder.

“What happened?” she asked rather harshly and impatiently.

Cassian looked up at her, and his eyes widened when he saw her. “An Illyrian decided to play dirty and use a weapon during hand to hand combat. So he took a stab at me,” he answered with a grimace before continuing to dig through the cabinet.

Meanwhile, the blood continued to drip from his shoulder and flowed down his chest.

“Cassian, you’re getting blood everywhere!” she exclaimed in an enraged tone as she found a towel lying on the counter. Racing over to him, she pressed the towel against his wound. “Here,” she sternly said.

Cassian winced when the towel touched his skin, but then placed his hand against it to hold it there.

“Now go sit down at the table,” she ordered him.

“There’s a salve in there -” he gruffly protested.

“SIT. DOWN,” she harshly insisted.

Begrudgingly, Cassian went over to the table and pulled out a chair to sit down. Meanwhile, Nesta continued his search through the cabinet, rummaging through bandages, tins of various ointments and vials of liquids to treat different maladies. She picked up each one to read the label to discover if it was one that could help Cassian’s wound.

It must’ve been the fifteenth tin she had checked before finding one that could help. Bringing the tin over to him, she set it down on the table and stood beside his chair. She leaned over a bit to take hold of the towel pressed against his bloodied shoulder and started rubbing the clean areas of the towel all over his chest to wipe up the blood.

“I guess it’s your…” Cassian paused to wince when her towel hit his wound. “...lucky day, sweetheart. You get to rub your hands all over me.”

“Not now, Cassian,” she reprimanded him exasperatedly. She was intently focused on the task at hand. Images of her father at the hands of the King of Hybern threatened to surface in her mind, but she forced herself to push them away. Cassian was injured, but she could help him. She could take action now to help him, unlike the day her father died. “Tell me what I need to do,” she demanded.

Cassian took a slow breath. “Apply the salve. It’ll help slow the bleeding. Then grab the bandages there to wrap the wound.” Cassian gestured to the bandages that were sitting on the table. He must’ve have found those before looking for the salve.

Nesta nodded in understanding. Putting down the towel and grabbing the tin instead, she twisted open the lid and dipped her fingers in the salve. She then proceeded to spread the ointment all over his shoulder wound, eliciting a hiss from Cassian’s lips.

But Nesta remained focused on her task, getting blood on her fingers in the process.

Setting down the tin, she quickly rinsed off her hands before proceeding to pick up the bandages. She wrapped his wound by encircling the bandage across his chest and beneath his underarm on the opposite side of his body before wrapping his upper arm to secure it.

Once she finished, she looked at him. “Good?”

He nodded. “Good.”

“But you’ll still see a healer?”

“That salve will suffice. The wound should begin to heal within a day.”

“That’s some salve,” she remarked as she recalled how injuries as a human were never easy to deal with.

“Definitely a benefit to living in the fae world,” he commented.

Nesta simply nodded before picking up the bloodied towel and went over to another cupboard to grab a wooden bucket. She filled it with water and added soap before placing it on the floor and dropping the towel in to soak it.

Returning to the table, she placed her hand upon the tin to grab it, but Cassian quickly encased her hand with his own and stopped her from doing so. Cassian leaned in so close that his lips nearly grazed her cheek. “Thank you, Nesta,” he whispered.

Feeling his breath upon her face, Nesta’s body froze and her eyes closed as she resisted the urge to shiver.

“You’re welcome,” she said gently when she opened her eyes and regained her senses. She grabbed the tin and quickly pulled her hand out of Cassian’s grasp to return it to its place in the cupboard. Then she proceeded to wash her hands one more time.

As she dried her hands on a clean towel, she looked over at Cassian. “Do you need anything else?”

A moment of silence passed. “Your forgiveness,” he answered softly.

Nesta’s body stilled for a moment, not expecting those words. “I don’t think I can give you that just yet,” she answered seriously before heading out of the kitchen.

“Nesta, wait,” Cassian called after her, but it didn’t stop her from moving. Not until she was in the living room, heard Cassian’s heavy footsteps come up behind her, and felt his hand grab hers. When he did so, she whipped around.

“What?” she asked, annoyed.

Cassian stared into her eyes as he spoke. “I’m sorry I hurt you in taking you to Velaris. I swear it was not an attempt to get you to talk to your sister. I only wanted you to have a day to get away from here and enjoy yourself.”

Nesta could do nothing but stand there and continue letting him hold her hand and stare back into his eyes. As she stood in silence, she felt he spoke truthfully. But there was still that part of that was afraid to trust him…

“I don’t know if I can forgive you right now,” she revealed gently.

“Then will you at least stay here with me?” he requested as he started to rub circles into the back of her hand. “Because I miss you,” he whispered.

Nesta’s eyes widened upon hearing him say those words. No one ever told her she was missed. Usually, everyone seemed to be thanking the gods she was leaving the room.

“I really need to -” she began to say, preparing to make some excuse as to why she needed to return to her room, but Cassian cut her off.

“Please.”

And with one word, he sounded so passionate and so desperate for her company. “We could just sit here in the living room,” he continued. “We could get the fire going, we could read -”

“Not the fire,” she firmly interjected.

“Okay. Whatever you want. Just...stay.”

As she looked over his bandaged body, she couldn’t help but think about how if the Illyrian had stabbed him a little bit lower, he could’ve hit his heart and Cassian wouldn’t be standing before her right now.

And that thought crushed her. She hated herself for it, but it was true.

“Okay,” she relented. “Just let me grab my book, and I will come out here to read.”

Cassian’s face broke out into a huge grin. “Thank you, Nesta.”

Letting go of his hand, Nesta went off to her room and retrieved one of the pregnancy books Cassian had given her. True to her word, she returned to the living room and sat upon the couch.

Cassian handed her a blanket using his uninjured arm before taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch.

As Nesta opened her book to begin reading, Cassian turned his head to the side to look at her. “Why don’t you want a fire?” he asked gently. “You never have a fire going...and come to think of it, whenever I do have a fire going, you’re never in the living room.”

Nesta took a deep breath before closing her book and setting it in her lap. “Because...the cracking...reminds me of...”

She couldn’t even get the words out to say it reminded her of her father. Doing so would bring the visual to her mind again. But Cassian seemed to quickly understand what she was about to say. His expression transformed from one of confusion to one of sympathy as she spoke. He began shaking his head as he leaned in toward her. “Nesta...I am so sorry. I didn’t know. I -”

“I know,” she cut him off.

But she couldn’t help wonder...if only he would have been there for her after the war, perhaps he would’ve known a lot sooner.

“All this time in the mountains...I should have noticed. I should’ve asked sooner,” he added.

“Well, now you know,” she remarked as she picked up her book and turned to the page she left off on to continue reading.

“Let me get you a few more blankets,” he said, moving to get up.

“Cassian, you’re injured. Sit down,” she reprimanded him. “I’m fine. I don’t need anymore blankets.”

Cassian resumed sitting on the couch and tilted his head back as he closed his eyes.

A few minutes of silence passed before Cassian spoke again. “Read aloud to me,” he requested.

“I thought you were going to sleep,” she said without lifting her eyes from the page.

“And waste the first moment I have with you after not hearing from you in ten days? Never.”

She didn’t understand it. Why would he say things like that?

And he actually kept track of how long it had been since they’d last spoken?

“But your eyes are closed, so I assumed you’d be going to sleep.”

“I assumed staring at you while you read would make you uncomfortable,” he stated as he peeked his eyes open. “But if it does not, I will gladly keep my eyes open,” he added with a bright grin.

“Keep your eyes closed,” she was quick to say, and he promptly closed his eyes again.

Clearing her throat, she began reading aloud from the section of her book that detailed what typically occurs during five to six months of pregnancy.

While she read about this being the typical period of time when the mother begins to feel the baby moving, she couldn’t help but place one of her hands on her protruding belly with the hope of feeling something respond.

She continued to read on, but she could feel Cassian shift around. “You haven’t felt the baby move yet, have you?” He asked curiously, interrupting her as he looked over at her and stared at the hand she placed on her stomach.

“Not yet,” she answered softly as she tapped her stomach.

Cassian gave her a soft, encouraging smile. “It’ll happen soon.”

She just prayed that nothing was wrong and that’s why she hadn’t felt anything yet.

“Have you thought of any names yet?” Cassian questioned her.

“Not yet.”

Nesta tilted her book back up to continue reading, but paused before resting the book back on her lap. “I saw the crib,” she revealed softly.

Cassian’s face seemed to light up in surprise. “Does it seem...suitable?”

Nesta nodded. “Yes.”

“I’ve been wanting to ask you what color I should paint it,” he stated. “And what color I should paint the room. I have a book of the different colors if you want to take a look at them later.”

Nesta couldn’t help but feel something when he said the words. She was still touched he had even started making a crib for her baby, and to clear out a room in his cabin and want to decorate it for her baby...she almost felt the need to cry.

Damn this pregnancy and the emotions it brings.

For fear of crying if she dared to speak, all she did was nod to acknowledge Cassian’s words. But now she needed to distract herself to stop these feelings. “Are you hungry?” she suddenly asked as she closed her book and put it beside her on the couch cushion.

“Why? Are you hungry?” he asked back instead of answering her question. “I’ll make something for you.”

“You’re injured,” she protested. “I’ll make something for you, for once.”

“I still have one uninjured arm,” Cassian said as he stood up to go to the kitchen, wincing as he did so. “I can still cook.”

“You need to rest,” she insisted as she followed after him.

“I will not let you cook for me while we are here in the mountains,” he stressed.

“Why not?”

“Because that’s what the Illyrian males make the females do for them, and I refuse to be like them.”

“Even though I’m offering to prepare the food for you?”

Cassian nodded. “Do you even know how to cook?” His right eyebrow rose in curiosity as he took a quick glance at her before opening a cupboard.

“I know how to cut up fruits and vegetables, which was all I was planning to eat,” she answered with a satisfied grin.

Cassian pulled a pot out of the cupboard. “Then perhaps, we can use this as an opportunity to teach you how to cook.”

“Only if you are certain this won’t worsen your injury,” Nesta expressed seriously.

“Well, a smart, beautiful female wrapped it perfectly for me, so I know I’ll be fine,” he remarked with a wink at her.

And once again, Nesta found herself wondering why Cassian would say things like that and say them so flirtatiously. The comment brought her the feeling of butterflies in her stomach. She nearly groaned out of frustration for feeling such things.

“We’ll start simple by having you learn how to make stew,” Cassian continued before instructing Nesta to find meat, vegetables and herbs in the kitchen while he lit the burner to heat broth in the pot.

Once Nesta gathered the ingredients, she began cutting them up as Cassian observed. It appeared that attempting to cut them would’ve made it a bit painful for his shoulder. When she was finished, Cassian helped her with plopping them into the pot.

Together, they stood and watched as their dinner heated up, with Cassian tossing in some spices every so often and sharing his input on cooking stew this way.

A brief period of silence passed between them, save for the sounds of the stew cooking. Nesta could sense that Cassian was thinking deeply about something from the way he tilted his head and kept his eyes fixated on the pot.

He took a deep breath. “Can I ask you something?” he asked in a low voice without even looking at her.

The seriousness of his question sent her heart racing as she wondered what he wanted to ask. “As long as it has nothing to do with the topics we agreed you were not allowed to discuss,” she replied.

Cassian nodded in understanding. “When your family didn’t have money...and Feyre was forced to hunt for food...why didn’t you try to help?”

She knew what he was essentially asking. Why did you let your family starve?

Nesta took a slow deep breath as she tried to not let herself be consumed with rage. For so long, Feyre’s Inner Circle had held her lack of action against her. Instead of trying to understand the situation from her point of view, all they saw was her lack of action in regards to their precious Feyre.

“When I was a child, I loved my father,” she began. “My world revolved completely around him. He always made me feel like I was his favorite. He made me feel so incredibly loved. If I ever did something that disappointed him, I was crushed and devastated because it felt like I betrayed him. But he always made it clear how much he loved me...until he lost his wealth and did nothing.”

Nesta couldn’t stop the tear that surfaced in her eye and streamed down her face. “And so I foolishly thought I could force him to act by not doing anything, not even attempting to save myself or my sisters. I was so filled with resentment toward him that I wanted him to see what he was doing to us. I wanted him to feel hurt the same way he hurt us, hoping and hoping that one day, it would trigger him to act...but that day didn’t come.

“And so I let myself drown in bitterness and rage. And I regret not helping feed my sisters. In trying to hurt my father, I hurt them too. I realize that now,” Nesta expressed solemnly as she laid her hand against her belly, promising herself to never let her child ever feel uncared for or unloved.

When the one person who loved her stopped loving her, it had been hard to find the strength to keep going... And so that was when she adopted a steely exterior, keeping her love at a distance, never wanting to feel betrayed by those she loved ever again.

“I had thought that helping in the war would help make amends for that mistake, but perhaps it did not,” she added bitterly, while more tears began to fall.

At that comment, Cassian abruptly turned his hazel eyes on her. They were filled with concern, sorrow, and understanding, and she couldn’t stop the sudden flow of memories from the war that came flashing through her mind as she looked back at him. His concern when she had sensed something was wrong when they were meeting with all the High Lords in the Dawn Court… His alarm when she had screamed for him before the Cauldron shot its deadly blast of light… His sorrow and regret right before he kissed her on the battlefield…

Cassian placed his hands on her cheeks and brushed her tears away with his thumbs. “Thank you for telling me,” he whispered as Nesta sniffled. “I think I understand now. I do not hold it against you.”

Cassian leaned his head down and placed a brief kiss on the top of her head.

Perhaps it was the sight of his injury in front of her again, or maybe it was the ridiculous pregnancy-related emotions, but when he pulled away, Nesta found that she craved his comfort. She grabbed his hand from his uninjured arm and gingerly leaned her head against his shoulder. He, in turn, squeezed her hand tightly before intertwining their fingers and rubbing her thumb with his own.

After silence rested between them for a short while, Nesta broke it. “When you’re healed, could you take me to the place where you remember your mother?” she gently asked. With all of these feelings regarding her father surfacing...she just needed that peace of visiting the established memorial to her father and Cassian’s mother.

“Yes, of course,” Cassian responded.

“Thank you, Cassian,” she said.

It wasn’t until the stew was finished cooking that they broke physical contact.

_______________________________________________________________

A few days later, the salve on Cassian’s injury had healed his shoulder completely, leaving him free to fly painlessly. And so, the two were off to the mountain where Cassian was born and had established a place to remember her father and his mother.

Instead of thinking about the ways her father failed her, Nesta spent her time there focused on the times when she knew he loved her. Memories of walking through the village as a young girl, holding her father’s hand and always begging for a pastry from a food stand, to which he always obliged. Whenever he returned from a business trip, she always ran outside to give him the biggest hug and he would hug her tightly to him, whispering, “My most precious flower, how I’ve missed you.” Then he would present her with a gift from his travels, always paired with a flower.

And then there was that day on the battlefield that would forever be etched in her memory. When her father led an armada of ships in the war to help them.

He finally tried to save them.

But did that suddenly erase the years he left them to suffer?

The love she had for him had made her so destructive and bitter, causing her to be selective about her love. When her father stopped caring for them, she doted upon Elain. Because Elain wasn’t capable of taking care of herself. She was someone who would need Nesta’s care to get by.

With Feyre, Nesta had always known that she was bold and headstrong, capable of taking care of herself. And Nesta knew that if she doted upon Feyre as she did Elain, she was opening herself up to the potential heartbreak of one day her sister not needing her.

Looking at the stone in front of her, she brought her hand to her stomach.

At least her father’s lack of care gave her the drive to be there for her child and a strong desire to never let him or her feel unloved. So that was one thing she was thankful for from her father.

But would she always be fearful to love others freely and unconditionally?

She turned to look at Cassian, who stood a short distance away, lost in his own thoughts. She stared at him for a minute, noticing how the wisps of his hair flew around his head in the wind.

Despite the fact that she was so incapable of a carefree love, for some reason Cassian still cared for her and was able to look past her lack of care for her family in the past.

And she knew his care was putting a dent in the shield around her heart. She hated herself for it, but was unable to hate him at all for it.

Probably sensing her gaze upon him, he looked up at her. “Ready?” he asked as he walked toward her.

“If you are,” she replied.

Cassian nodded and picked her up off the ground.

As he flew them back to his cabin, they spent the time in silence, each deep in their own thoughts.

When they arrived home, he made a gentle landing. Usually, Cassian would delicately set Nesta upon the ground. But today, he continued holding her in his arms, showing no intention of releasing her.

Nesta, with her arms still wrapped around his neck, looked up at him in confusion to find him staring right back at her. “What are you doing?” she wondered quietly.

“I’m not ready to let go just yet,” he answered softly with a small smile.

“Your arms are going to get tired,” she pointed out.

“I’ll never tire of this,” he replied honestly.

This. She wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by “this” because somehow it didn’t feel like he was simply referring to him holding her. It seemed to hold a deeper meaning of...whatever this feeling was between them.

As the snowflakes fell upon them, Nesta shifted her eyes so she was staring at the ebony sleeve of her coat, while she felt his gaze burrowing into her.

“I know that I don’t say it enough, but…” she stated quietly. “I appreciate all you’ve been doing for me, Cassian.”

Cassian gave her body a squeeze, causing her to finally look back up at him. “You can thank me by naming your child after me,” he replied with a cheeky grin.

Nesta dramatically made a sound of disgust. “I would never name my child after someone so brutish,” she avowed.

“Brutish?!”

“You’re the one who’s refusing to let me go against my wishes,” she noted.

“Is it really your wish that I let you go?” he voiced huskily as he inclined his head closer to hers. The sudden movement caused her to momentarily lose her breath.

Did she really seek to be released from his arms? She felt so comfortable and at ease...and that was certainly a feeling that was against her wishes. There was still the urge to keep her distance.

But there also was a desire to close the distance...

“Well, the baby is cold and hungry,” she said in response, fighting off that desire. “So, we should get inside.”

Her response wasn’t necessarily a lie...she was starting to feel cold and hungry. But it wasn’t completely true either, having come up with her excuse on the spot.

As whenever Nesta mentioned the baby, Cassian immediately did what she asked and set her upon the ground. Slowly, Nesta walked away from him and stepped onto the wooden platform that led to the door. She paused to brush the snow off of her coat before pushing the door open. Cassian trailed behind her, stopping to shake the snow off the outdoor rug.

Meanwhile, Nesta went inside and removed her coat to hang it on the coat rack. She headed toward the living room with the intention of finding a blanket to wrap around herself.

“Hello, Nesta,” a voice called out as soon as Nesta entered the living room, stopping her in her tracks.

Nesta’s surprised eyes shot to the source of the voice, which turned out to belong to Mor.

And when Nesta spotted her, Mor let out a gasp as she looked straight at her bulging stomach.

“Is...is Cassian the father?” Mor questioned out of her shock.

Nesta, still stunned at Mor’s surprise appearance and now learning about her pregnancy, opened her mouth to respond.

“No, of course not!” Cassian hurriedly answered from behind her. “Mor, what...what’s going on? What are you doing here?” Cassian wondered as he rushed over to greet his friend with a hug.

No, of course not!

Mor said something or other about going on a mission for a long while and wanting to say goodbye to Cassian before she left...but Nesta couldn’t focus on her words. All she could focus on was...

No, of course not!

No, of course he wasn’t the father of her child because he would never want to have a child with someone like her. How foolish of her to even believe that the two of them could be...something more.

His words stung her deeply, as anger and sadness flowed throughout her.

This whole time she had been trying to protect her heart, but now...now she knew that she had failed. Because if she had truly protected herself, she wouldn’t be feeling such pain as this.

But she had to focus. A member of the Inner Circle knew about her pregnancy.

“Don’t tell anyone else,” Nesta suddenly interjected in the middle of Mor’s babbling. “Please,” she sternly demanded.

Mor paused and looked surprised as she turned to look at Nesta.

“No one else knows?”

Nesta stiffly shook her head, and they all stood in silence. Mor looked over at Cassian before bringing her gaze back to Nesta.

“Well, I assume you have your reasons,” Mor said seriously. “I won’t be seeing the rest of the Inner Circle anytime soon so I won’t say anything.”

“Thank you,” Nesta replied sternly before stomping in the direction of her room, deliberately avoiding eye contact with Cassian.

“Nesta…” she heard Cassian say as he attempted to grab her arm when she passed him by, but she swatted his hand away without a word.

She went straight to her room and shut the door closed behind her.

_______________________________________________________________

“No, of course not!”

As soon as the words flew out of Cassian’s mouth, he instantly regretted them and inwardly cringed at how it sounded. But he had been so shocked to see Mor, he didn’t know what he was doing. So he tried to brush off what he said by instantly going to Mor’s side to hug her. “Mor, what...what’s going on? What are you doing here?”

“Well, I’m off to spend the next year travelling to a few courts as requested by Rhys, and I just wanted to stop by briefly to say goodbye since I won’t be able to see you for a while. It had already been so long since I last saw you,” Mor explained.

Cassian had trouble listening to Mor speak because his attention drifted over to Nesta, whose eyes were filled with fury and her hands were clenched as her sides.

“But perhaps you were trying to hide this from me and - ” Mor began to say as she gestured toward Nesta, but was abruptly cut off.

“Don’t tell anyone else,” Nesta requested. “Please.”

Mor looked surprised as she turned her eyes to Nesta.

“No one else knows?” she asked.

When Nesta stiffly shook her head, Mor’s eyes met Cassian’s. “Please don’t say anything,” Cassian mouthed. While he wanted Nesta’s sisters to know that she was pregnant, it should be Nesta to tell them. And she should tell them when she was ready. He simply prayed that day would come soon.

“Well, I assume you have your reasons,” Mor said. “I won’t be seeing the rest of the Inner Circle anytime soon so I won’t say anything,” she acquiesced. Cassian let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” Nesta stated coldly and started stomping away. She seemed to be trying to not look at him, but he could tell there was a pained expression in her eyes. He needed to fix this. Why did he have a habit of saying the wrong thing?

He moved to grab her wrist when she brushed past him. “Nesta…” he called her quietly, but she shooed his hand away and continued to her room, promptly slamming the door behind her.

“I see Nesta is her usual self,” Mor commented as she watched her angrily leave the room. “Except for the fact that she’s pregnant.” Mor looked up at Cassian. “You haven’t told anyone?”

Cassian shook his head.

“How long have you known?”

“Since October.”

“October?!” she exclaimed. “You’re keeping secrets for her and keeping information from Rhys and Feyre for her?”

“Mor, please.”

“After all she’s done to you?”

“Mor.”

Mor sighed. “You’re lucky I’ve already said goodbye to everyone else, and this was just my final stop before I leave for my mission.”

“Thank you, Mor,” he said as he embraced her again. “I appreciate you coming here, but I’ve hurt her and now I need to go talk to her.”

“I only came to say goodbye. It wasn’t meant to be a long visit,” Mor said before pulling away from him. “Do you love her?”

Out of instinct when talking to Mor, he wanted to say no. But that was solely because he was speaking to Mor...someone who it was hard to discuss his romantic relationships with, considering their history of friendship. She’d always been very protective of him, never finding any female worthy of him and fearing a female would come between their relationship. And because of that, Cassian had a tendency of trying to hide any possible relationships from her.

Plus, she had spoken about her worry over his interest in Nesta in the past, fearing she would hurt him.

“I don’t know,” he answered. He wasn’t certain about his feelings yet, but if he were...he would want Nesta to be the first to know.

Mor gave him a sad smile and pressed her hand against his cheek. “Protect yourself, Cassian,” she gently advised.

Cassian nodded and kissed her on her forehead. “Thank you for understanding,” he whispered. “Good luck on your journey. I’ll write to you.”

“Goodbye, Cassian,” she said before winnowing out of sight.

Cassian instantly bolted down the hall to Nesta’s room, pounding his fists on the closed door.

“Nesta! I need to talk to you!” he exclaimed.

“I’M BUSY,” she angrily shouted.

“Nesta, please,” he begged. “I didn’t mean for my words to sound like that.”

“I DON’T CARE!” she yelled back through the door.

“Nesta, please!” he exclaimed again.

“The baby and I are trying to rest!”

Cassian sighed out of frustration and ran his hand through his hair. But he couldn’t leave her fuming about this. Couldn’t allow her to think that he was appalled by her because it certainly was not true.

With a huff, he stomped down the hallway and outside of the house. Trudging through the snow, he went around the side of the house to the window that looked into Nesta’s bedroom. He slid the window open, then hopped up on the windowsill and twisted his body so he could bring his whole body inside.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” she yelped from her bed.

Turning around, Cassian slid the window closed behind him, then turned back to Nesta. “I need to talk to you.”

“We’ve done enough talking!”

“Those words I said to Mor, I didn’t - ”

“But of course you’re repulsed by me, Cassian!” she interjected as she sat up in her bed and looked back at him. “Because as you’ve said before, how could someone ever love me, including my own sisters?”

The pain in her voice nearly crushed him. And the reminder of what he’d said to her on Winter’s Solstice over a year ago cut him like a knife.

“Nesta, I - ”

“I should have remembered that all of this is just to honor your mother’s memory,” she noted in anguish. “I was a fool to start believing otherwise,” she added in a quiet voice.

“Nesta,” he fiercely stated, demanding her attention by standing right in front of her and placing his hands against her cheeks. As he stared deep into her eyes, he found them to be tinged red. “Please listen to me. I am not repulsed by you. I admire you for the way you’ve taken care of your child, and I am grateful to you for how you’ve helped me,” he emphasized. “With you...I don’t feel so alone,” he added in a whisper.

Her eyes showed no reaction as he spoke. “Then why did you say those words to Mor?” she demanded to know.

Cassian sighed. “With Mor, our friendship has lasted for centuries and...she’s sensitive to anything that could possibly come in the way of that. When I’m around her, I just instinctively try to protect that friendship...which results in me saying stupid things that I regret. I am so sorry.”

And for the past year and a half, Mor had seemed especially sensitive in regards to Nesta, even advising him at one point to stop trying to help Nesta when she was in her downward spiral after the war, fearing he would get hurt even more. And she certainly wasn’t happy at all when Feyre decided to have Nesta move into his cabin.

But he didn’t feel like he needed to tell Nesta about that right now.

“But you also have said that you don’t understand how my sisters could love me,” she stated solemnly.

Cassian shook his head in shame. “That was a complete and utter lie. I was hurt and angry over the fact you weren’t talking to me and that you didn’t want anything to do with me after...everything we’d been through. It was my stupid attempt to hurt you in return for hurting me.”

Nesta’s eyes remained emotionless as she said nothing.

“I am so sorry,” Cassian repeated in a whisper as he stroked her cheeks with his thumbs and continued to stare into her blue-grey eyes. “I do truly care about you. It hurts me that I’ve upset you.”

“Where were you, after the war?” she shakily asked. “For the first couple of months after the war, you never tried to speak to me or see me.”

Cassian took a deep breath. “I thought you needed time and space, and I...was dealing with my own issues after the war. After so many of my men died, I was feeling guilty for being alive...and felt that I should live in suffering.”

“And it was my fault you survived,” Nesta piped in softly.

Cassian couldn’t stop the tears that filled his eyes. “When I lost myself in that guilt, I will admit that I blamed you for a time. But it was only because I was drowning in my own guilt. Mor and Az and Rhys pulled me out of it, but by the time they did, you were already drowning and wouldn’t let me help you.”

“Well, sorry for saving your life, ” she remarked bitterly. “I didn’t realize you would want to die.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Cassian firmly declared. “Everything was that shitty king of Hybern’s fault. You are not to blame for anything. And I am so thankful you did save my life because I get another chance…” he trailed off.

I get another chance to be with you. To no longer carry the regret of not having time with you.

“Another chance to rectify my mistakes,” he finished as he sat on the bed beside her.

“I didn’t realize that even the General Commander suffered after the war.”

“Every war takes its toll,” he revealed sorrowfully. “It never gets easier.”

Nesta leaned her head against his shoulder. “I thought I was alone,” she mumbled.

Cassian slowly moved his arm so he could wrap it around Nesta’s shoulders. Nesta leaned her head against his chest as he began stroking her hair, slowly undoing her crown braid.

“You are never alone,” he whispered. “I’m sorry you felt that way. And that I wasn’t there for you sooner.”

A few tears slid out of Nesta’s eyes, but Cassian was ready to wipe them away with his thumbs.

The urge to kiss her returned, and maybe that would show her just how much she meant to him. It was an urge that kept popping up more and more in the past few days...like when she helped wrap his shoulder. When she joined him for meals again a few days ago. When they flew back to the cabin earlier and he continued to hold her in his arms for a little while longer...

But he had messed up so much in the past few weeks...could he really risk infuriating her further by attempting to kiss her?

Perhaps, now was not the best moment, especially after discussing the ways he’d failed her. But they had just opened up to each other, creating a deeper bond between them.

Did he love her? He couldn’t tell. The only prime example of romantic love he’d ever witnessed was that between Rhys and Feyre...and right now, he and Nesta certainly weren’t like them. But perhaps they could be...one day.

If they tried.

Could he take the next step forward with her? If only he could figure out what she was feeling...and if only he could stop ticking her off with his foolish words and actions.

But the fact that those foolish words and actions upset her surely showed that he meant something to her?

Suddenly, Nesta gasped and brought her hand to her stomach. Cassian’s hand that had been running through her hair froze in place, and he looked down at her in alarm. “What’s wrong?” he asked anxiously, fearing something was awry.

But then he saw Nesta do something he had never seen her do before.

She smiled. Truly smiled out of joy and happiness and not out of smug satisfaction.

She brought her other hand to her stomach too and let out an ecstatic laugh. “The baby is kicking,” she revealed.

Her happiness was infectious, causing him to beam and feel overcome with gladness. Before he could say anything, Nesta eagerly grabbed his free hand and brought it up against her stomach.

He waited a moment before he finally felt the kick.

The sensation brought him a feeling of elation he had never experienced before. Nesta let out another joyous laugh, and Cassian couldn’t help but join in as they both felt the baby’s kicks. Caught up in the excitement of the moment, he leaned down and kissed Nesta’s forehead.

As he pulled away, she stared up at him with bliss shining in her eyes.

And that was when he felt it.

The snap of the mating bond. ________________________________________________________________

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate all the support :) Let me know your thoughts!

—> CHAPTER 7

#nessian #nesta #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta cassian #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #a court of mist and fury #acomaf #a court of wings and ruin #acowar #a court of frost and starlight #acofas #fanfiction #far from the shallow

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a-courtof-sarah-j-maas · 6 years

Text

Feysand Modern- Chapter Two

Chapter 2

I tried so hard to come up with a snarky comment, or to respond back with a sassy come back, but all that happened was I blushed. Whatever happened to keeping my cool? I was all flustered, but it was too soon. Way too soon, to even think about if he is handsome or not. Not after the last time. So I resorted to giving him a sly smile, and saying “Hello…” and he immediately answered saying “Rhysand, but my everyone calls me Rhys.” He sends me his signature grin and leads the rest of our group into the dining room.

Nesta and Elain sit next to each other, and their boyfriends sit on their opposite ends. Leaving Rhys and I to choose our spots; he gestures for me to pick where I sit, and I, after a quick decision, chose to sit in between Cassian and Rhysand. The food was placed in the middle of the table, free for taking by anyone, so Cassian decided to start off. He loaded his place up with a lot, and filled up one for Nesta, too. Elain followed, doing the same for herself and Azriel. Then I put some food onto my plate, but not nearly as much as everyone else. Then Rhys, last. The dinner started off awkward, because no one knew what say, and how to start a conversation, but then Cassian cleared his throat in an obvious manner, and asked aloud,” So, Feyre, what are you studying in college?” I responded with the same level of kindness, “Art, painting in specific.” Rhysand’s face quickly showed signs of surprise and awe, but it quickly disappeared when he said, “Really? I’m actually studying to become a professional photographer.”

“That’s cool! Where did you go to for university before moving back here?” Elain interrupted, genuinely curious. “In Chicago, I moved back to over here to continue photography at Prythian University.” Before I could speak for myself, Nesta spoke for me saying, “That’s where Feyre goes, they are supposed to have a very good photography program! Maybe she could show you around sometime soon.” I flushed pink again, due to the forwardness of Nesta’s voice. Of course I want to show him around, but I can barely handle a minute around him without stammering and flustering, there’s no way I would survive a day. He seemed to notice me being apprehensive and reassuringly smiled. “I would love to.”

After helping clean up, we were planning on leaving, but Cassian told us to stay for a movie. I kept insisting that it was a Sunday night, and that we had school tomorrow, but no one bought my excuses. Against my wishes, Nesta and Elain forced me to stay and watch a movie with them. I was expecting some kind of silly romance movie, but surprisingly we settled with Harry Potter. Everyone here, seemed to be book nerds, so naturally Harry Potter was a great resolution. On the small sofa they owned, I sat in between Elain and Rhysand. I always forgot how long these movies were, and I knew soon, I would fall asleep. With all the nightmares I get, I never get enough sleep. I slanted my head towards to right, to make sure that if I were to fall asleep, that it were to be on Elain’s shoulder, and not Rhys’.

Rhys’s POV

I didn’t know what to do. About half way into the movie, Feyre’s head fell on my shoulder. Am I supposed to wake her? Move her head? I turned my head around carefully, trying to avoid waking Feyre up, and I met Nesta’s eyes. She gave me a reassuring smile that gave me my answer.

I, soon, also got tired and I nestled my head on top of Feyre’s and I fell asleep too.

***

Feyre POV

When I heard the Harry Potter theme song, I woke with a gasp, and and looked around to see everyone staring at me and Rhys. Rhys, who was now nestled in between my shoulder and neck. Nesta and Elain got up from the couch, and hugged and kissed their boyfriends, and said their farewells. They grabbed me, but before they could, I went over to a half-asleep Rhys, and kissed his cheek. Everyone looked surprised, and to be honest I was kind of shocked at my actions too. He gave me half smile, and even though no words were shared between us two, I feel like we had a moment. As I got in the back seat of the car, I purposefully avoided my sisters’ questioning gazes.

Why was I acting this way? I had just gotten over Tamlin, for gods sake, and now I am already smitten with another boy? I got in my covers, and turned my lamp off. However, when I close my eyes all I can imagine is Rhys’ dark blue eyes. Or Rhys’ cocky smirk. I open my eyes, and let loose a frustrated grunt. I grab the pillow besides me and chuck it on my face, trying to delete the glorious images of Rhys from my head. But, even with all my efforts, I go to sleep dreaming of Rhysand.

Rhys’ POV

After Feyre woke up from our comfortable nap, she came over and kissed me on the cheek. If I wasn’t awake before, I definitely was now. I have known her for all of 4 hours, and I am already in love.

***

I can’t stop thinking about her. Her goldish-brown hair. Her intelligent grey eyes. And her artist’s hands. Everything about her, sent me wild. I have never felt this before, this intense wanting, the desire to be with someone. I was always the type for a one-night stand or a girlfriend that lasted a couple of days. But this? Never has this happened. My hand moved upwards to brush the spot on my cheek where she kissed me. I tried going asleep, but I just lay awake thinking about Feyre Archeron. .

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illyrianbeauty · 7 years

Text

A Not so Chance Encounter: Chapter 13

Rhys is persuaded to attend a fundraiser by his cousin Mor. He didn’t expect to meet the girl of his dreams.

Fic Masterlist

Writing Masterlist

Chapter 13: Pics and Kicks

Once Rhys had recovered enough from the shock of Nesta’s blunt, though rather perceptive question, he stammered, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He cursed inwardly at the heat he felt creeping up along his neck and face, certain that it would give Nesta a legitimate reason to doubt the sincerity of his words.

Nesta inspected her immaculately manicured nails as though bored and drawled, “Oh… so you don’t stare at Feyre Darling when you think she’s not looking or hang on her every word?” She gave him a piercing look, as though daring him to disagree with her.

“She’s got you there, bro,” Cass snickered. Rhys shot him a glare and flipped him off, muttering a string of filthy curse words under his breath.

“Well, it is kind of obvious that you have feelings for her, Rhys,” Az said consolingly.

“To everyone, that is, except for my sister.” Nesta snorted before continuing, “How she hasn’t seen and called you out on your constant ogling is a mystery to me.”

Rhys crossed his arms over his chest and scowled, “I do not ogle her.” Admittedly, he had already checked her out a few times that evening, and... well… every time he saw her. But Nesta sure as hell couldn’t know that. Could she? Fuck. Had it really been that obvious? He replayed the evening in his mind, hoping that his appreciation for how beautiful Feyre looked had not been that noticeable. Discrete, he assured himself. He had definitely been discrete when he had checked her out.

Nesta rolled her eyes and sneered, “Cut the shit Rhysand and answer the damn question. When are you going to tell my sister that you are in love with her?” Rhys looked at each of his friends in turn, silently beseeching each of them to help him out of this situation.

“I’d like to know the answer to that question myself,” Amren said with an irreverent shrug of her shoulders.

Cassian, who had been inconspicuously moving closer and closer to Nesta as the conversation proceeded, chimed in, “You’re on your own here, Rhys. I highly doubt Nessie is going to let this slide without an actual answer from you.”

Nesta slowly twisted around and faced Cassian. The smile she gave him was, undoubtedly, the most frightening thing that Rhys had ever seen in his entire life. She sauntered over to Cass, hips swishing with each step she took as she closed the distance between them. Cass’s eyes grew wide as Nesta stopped a hair’s breadth away from him, her chest imperceptibly brushing up against his. Cass gulped audibly as their eyes made contact. Rhys shared a concerned glance with Az, unsure as to what Nesta had planned. Whatever it was, he thought, it couldn’t be good. Amren watched the two with amused interest, much like one would watch a movie. In fact, the only thing she seemed to be missing was the popcorn. Cass’s breath hitched as Nesta reached up and ran a hand through his long hair, which happened to be down for once and not in its usual bun. His eyes glanced down at Nesta’s lips briefly before flicking back up to her eyes. Nesta’s smile grew even wider as she wrapped her other arm around his neck. Cass’s eyes darkened with desire as he placed his hands on her hips, pulling her impossibly closer to him. Never taking her eyes off of his, Nesta tilted her face towards him. With the slightest of smiles upon his face, Cass closed his eyes and leaned towards her. Just as their lips were about to meet, Nesta grinned wickedly. She removed her hands from his hair and the back of his neck and gripped his shoulders. Rhys watched in both amusement and horror as she proceeded to knee Cass viciously between the legs. Both Az and Rhys winced at the sight, knowing exactly how painful the blow had been. Amren, being the ferocious beast that she was, began cackling uncontrollably.

“Nice try, asshole,” Nesta sneered as she stepped out of his arms.

“What the fuck?” Cass roared, doubled over in pain as he grasped his manhood gingerly.

“I warned you not to call me Nessie, you imbecile.” She gave him a serpentine smile and warned, “Now maybe you’ll think twice before doing it again.” Cass gaped at her, a mixture of disbelief, pain, anger, and lust upon his face. Rhys wasn’t surprised in the least that Cass could still be turned on by a woman who had just kneed him in the balls. For someone, such as Cassian, who had no difficulty attracting members of the opposite sex, a female not throwing herself at him was seen as a welcome challenge.

Cass stuttered, “I… You… What the…”

Ignoring Cassian and acting as though nothing remotely interesting had just happened, Nesta turned to face Rhys and sniffed, “Well?”

Rhys had an overwhelming desire to shield his own private parts from her, just in case she turned her wrath towards him. Stifling that impulse, he said, “Feyre and I are just friends. And she happens to be engaged, in case you hadn't noticed.”

Nesta snorted, “That idiot doesn’t deserve her. He’s selfish. Not to mention controlling, condescending, and arrogant.” She looked Rhys up and down before saying, “At least you treat her with respect. Even if you do gawk at her every chance you get.” Rhys wasn’t sure how to respond to that. After all, how much of a compliment could it be, saying that he was a slightly better choice than Tamlin? It’s not as if someone could get any lower than him.

Rhys shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced around, wanting to look anywhere but at those steely grey-blue eyes. Cassian was intentionally keeping his distance from the eldest Archeron sister, though his attention remained fixed on her. He was no longer cradling his balls and his face was uncharacteristically stoney as he stared hard at her.

“Nesta is right. You should tell her, boy,” Amren stated. As usual, her tone of voice indicated that she was talking to a child, and a dimwitted one at that.

Rhys narrowed his eyes at the small, yet strangely fierce and intimidating woman. “Why? What good would that do?” He ran a hand through his hair and said rather defensively, “The only thing that would happen if I told her how I feel is that she would get pissed as hell and I would lose her as a friend.”

“Rhys, we’ve all told you this before. Many times. She has a right to know how you feel,” Az said beseechingly.

Nesta stalked up to Rhys, poked his chest with a finger, and snapped, “It would give her a choice in whom she is in a relationship with. That’s what telling her would do. She deserves that- a choice.”

“She made her choice when she put that ring on her finger.” he hissed. He paused, taking a deep breath in order to get his rising temper under control. “And unless she chooses to take it off for good, I am not going to tell her anything.”

“Then you’re a damned fool, Rhysand. And I was very, very wrong about the kind of person I thought you were,” Nesta spat at him, standing so close to him now that they were nearly nose to nose.

He threw his hands up in exasperation and took a few steps back. There was no way that he could tell Feyre. Especially not now, seeing as though she had been distancing herself from them lately. For Cauldron's sake, she hadn’t even spoken to Mor or him about her engagement to Tamlin. It was going to be hard enough for him to broach that particular subject with her tonight, let alone confess his feelings for her. He needed to take things slowly, one step at a time. Otherwise, she would walk out of his life and he would lose her forever.

Some of the devastation he was feeling must have been showing on his face because Nesta’s expression softened slightly as she implored, “Rhys, trust me. Please. I know my sister and she would want to know how you feel about her.” Rhys was instantly struck by the softness and sincerity in her voice. That, and the fact that she had just called him Rhys. There was definitely more to Nesta than meets the eye, he decided.

“We have drinks for everyone!” Mor chirped as she sauntered up to the group, hands laden with beer bottles. Feyre, who was also holding several bottles, wasn’t far behind. She passed one to her sister first. After the rather heated conversation with Nesta, Rhys was feeling somewhat exposed as Feyre made eye contact and approached him.

“Here you go, Rhysee Poo,” she said in a sing-song voice as she offered him a beer. Upon seeing her smile, he found himself beginning to relax.

“Why thank you, Darling,” he murmured, still somewhat unnerved. Her brows narrowed in a silent question, one which he answered with a smile that was just for her.

***

Rhys watched as Mor and Feyre sashayed back to the table, arm in arm and giggling like fools. After Mor’s endless badgering, Feyre had finally relented and joined her on the dance floor. Cauldron, her smile was breathtaking.

Before he could lose his nerve and chicken out, he asked with a smirk, “Care to join me for a minute out on the balcony, Darling? It looks like you need to cool down.” In all honesty, she did look slightly sweaty from her and Mor’s antics on the dance floor. It was a good opportunity to get her on her own and talk- too good for him to pass up.

“Sure, why not. I could definitely use some fresh air.”

As they walked outside, Rhys said a silent prayer to the Mother that the conversation he was about to have went smoothly. Once they were outside, Feyre leaned up against the railing and gazed up at the sky.

“Have I ever told you how much I love the night sky?”

“No, though I should have guessed since that’s what you painted me for my birthday.” She smiled, her eyes remaining fixated on the night.

Rhys walked up and leaned against the railing next to her, so close their elbows nearly touched. They stood in a comfortable silence for a few minutes.

Unsure of how to begin, he asked, “Enjoying yourself tonight?”

“Yup! Watching Cassian and Nesta glaring at each other during dinner was rather entertaining,” she chuckled.

He snorted, “I bet you a hundred dollars that Nesta knees him in the balls again before the night is over.” They looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“I wish I would have been there to see that!”

“Me too! I think Cass has finally met his match.”

She turned her attention back to the view, still chuckling slightly.

“I’m glad you came tonight. We’ve missed you.” The smile on her face instantly disappeared and her body stiffened.

He turned his body so he was facing her more fully. “I’ve been worried about you, you know.”

Feyre sighed heavily and turned to face him. “I’m sorry I’ve been kinda distant lately. I’ve… had a lot going on.”

“Like an engagement ring you’ve failed to mention?” Feyre broke eye contact with him and stared down at the offending piece of jewelry. Her continued silence began to make him uneasy, so he continued, “You know that you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Silence. He wished he knew what was going through her head. He placed a hand on her shoulder and said quietly, “Feyre?” Her eyes finally lifted to meet his and he was lost in their blue-grey depths. Standing this close together, they were nearly touching foreheads. A stray curl had come loose and lay in front of her face. He reached his hand out and tucked it behind her ear. Her breath hitched ever so slightly at the contact. He stared at her in wonder. Was she… Did she… Could she… It happened so fast that he almost didn’t catch it- her eyes darted down to his lips quickly and then right back up to his eyes. He ran a hand down her check and whispered, “Feyre, I..”

A bright flash of light stopped him in his tracks. He and Feyre jumped apart and whipped around. Mor stood grinning like a fiend while holding up her phone. “I’ll send you the picture Fey.” With that, she turned around and flounced back inside.

“Well, we should get back to the party,” she stammered. He watched as she practically ran inside and away from him.

And just like that, the dream he had been living in came to an end.

***

As they often did on Saturday afternoons, Rhys met Mor the following day at their favorite little bookstore. They would frequently spend an hour or two perusing the books and then grab a coffee at the shop next door, something they had been doing for years. They were currently sitting at a table near the window, enjoying their drinks when Mor’s phone began to vibrate.

“Huh. That’s strange. Fey just messaged me on Facebook. I don’t think she’s done that before. She normally just texts.”

Rhys watched his cousin’s face become incredibly pale and horror stricken as she read the message.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he demanded.

Unable to speak, she offered him the phone. He wrenched the phone from her hand and quickly scanned the text.

Mor, I need you to come pick me up at Tamlin’s place now!! Please get here as soon as you can! It’s an emergency! I’ll explain everything later, but I need your help! Please hurry!

Rhys grabbed the keys off the table and was running out of the door in an instant, Mor following closely behind him.

His hands shook in fear as he turned the ignition. Shit. Shit. Shit.

***

Tagging @sannexwhoops @bitchypan @howtotameyourillyrian @cerridwxn @urbisie @thelaughingzeebra @summertime-acoustic @girl-who-fangirls @my-ships-will-never-be-sank @irrelevant5

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thatbitchydonutcollector · 6 years

Text

The Rose of Regret and the Sting of Desire

Part 3

Nessian Mini Series- Mainly Angst/Eventual Smut

Note: Thanks so much for beta-ing @darlingfireheart (😘). This is quite the filler chapter some may say. But I truly, truly love the duo (haha no spoilers) that I explore in this part. Much is planned, and you must be patient for the slow burn. There will be much more Nessian confrontation in the next part (which is already in the works). Without further ado, enjoy! 🌿

Word Count: 1,343

After more than a day of scouring the House of Wind, Nesta finally shrugged on her cloak and decided to brave the stairs leading down to the base of Velaris.

It was nothing like the human realm.

Where she grew up, full of dull colors and starving lands, people had one hand on their weapon and their head turned in paranoia. The human realm was merciless. The human realm let her and her sisters starve while not even batting an eye. But here...

...there children running in the streets. There were townsfolk walking with smiles on their faces and plentiful baskets of food on their hips. There were people laughing. Playing. Grinning.

These people were happy.

And now Nesta understood what lengths her sister would go to to protect this place of shimmering stars and joyous people.

Her feet carried her slowly, taking her time in searching the grounds before her. A female, twirling with a basket of roses on her arm, gave Nesta a smile as she passed. She stopped on her feet, searching Nesta’s face and frowning accordingly. She handed out a pale white rose to her.

“I have no money for this,” Nesta said dully.

The girl beamed and just searched her face. She saw the uneasiness in Nesta’s expression. She saw the longing.

“There is no cost.” The girl chimed simply. “I hope your day brightens.”

Was her facade that translucent? Nesta asked herself as her nose inhaled the sweet perfume of the blooming bud.

Nesta kept walking until she reached the Sidra. She heard the steady thrum of its current, and the sloshing cacophony of where it thrashed against the bank.

Her head bowed, Nesta sped up her pace. And she knew exactly why her feet wanted to walk faster. She knew exactly why the sound of choking waves almost made her sick to her stomach.

The feeling of water filling her lungs engulfed her. She remembered the way it burned like wildfire inside her and the way she gasped for air on the tiles of Hybern as she expelled it from her system, scorching like razor blades leaving her body.

The first thing she smelled in her new body was her-- Cassian’s blood seeping across the tiles towards her.

Nesta put a hand to her stomach, suddenly overwhelmingly nauseous.

She groaned as she caught her breath.

The raging storm inside her was screaming. She was better than this. So Nesta Archeron stood up tall and continued her search through the streets of Velaris with a white rose in her hand.

The sun was setting by the time she made it to her destination.

Rhysand’s townhouse.

She climbed the few steps and knocked heavily at the door before her. Something inside her churned, slightly hoping that he wasn’t home. Hoping he was off doing High Lord-ly things without his mate by his side. Waiting a few moments, Nesta sighed and turned on her heel eager to leave.

Nesta Archeron had so many questions, and the only prick she knew who would have the answers was Rhysand. But despite herself, she was scared of what he would tell her… of what it would mean.

Just as Nesta cleared the steps back towards the direction she came, she heard rustling inside the house and the door cracked open.

He looked awful.

She remembered what he looked like when he was meeting with the Queens back home. Regal. Kingly even. His head high, his back straight, and his mate by his side. Rhysand was nothing of what she remembered. There was stubble on his cheek, his hair was an untamed mess, and there were dark circles under his eyes as he looked at her.

She saw him try to stand taller, but she was not a fool. With Feyre spying in Spring… Rhysand was in shambles.

He said her name with a hoarse breath, then promptly cleared his throat.

“May I come in?” she sighed.

With a glare at her, Rhysand opened the door for her to follow him in. “What brings you to my humble abode, Nesta?” he goaded.

“I need to ask you something.” Nesta glanced around his townhouse. There were maps spread haphazardly over the large kitchen table, there was a notebook open with maddened scrawl and pencils exploding across the room and onto the floor.

“Oh?”

She suddenly felt the urge to leave. Feyre was out there, in the clutches of their enemies and she was going to ask about unimportant, much less dire things. She chuckled to herself and Rhysand raised his brow.

“May I ask what’s so comical?” his face was unamused.

“Nothing, I--” she paused. “Nothing.”

A moment of silence passed between them.

“Why are you here?”

“To ask--”

Rhys cut her off with a snarl in his voice. “Then ask it.” He still hated her. That much was apparent. For failing Feyre. For letting her youngest sister starve. She hated herself so she supposed it was valid that Feyre’s mate hated her as well.

She took a deep breath to calm herself. “How did you know… that Feyre was your mate?”

His eyes widened. “You came all the way from the House of Wind to learn about Feyre and I?”

Nesta tensed. She felt stupid, silly to come this far to ask the male that hated her guts in such a time. Gods, she was so rutting stupid. Nesta started towards the door. “You know what, nevermind. I’ll just--”

“No, wait.”

She paused.

“I suspected for a long, long time.” Rhysand said grimly. “I had dreams of her even when she was still living in the mortal land. When she crossed over into Prythian it was like a veil being lifted.”

Nesta’s hands were shaking and she gripped the rose tighter. Maybe in rage or in fear, she couldn’t tell. “Yes, all that with the dresser drawer and the dreams but how did you know?”

“Why are you asking this, Nesta?” He knew damn well why she was asking. She just stared at him.

With that rutting smirk on his face, he continued. “When she was revived by the High Lords, after all the chaos died down and I was alone with her… when I smelled her and saw her in that body, I knew. It was like… her being high fae heightened the bond between us. I had suspected for a long while, but that was the moment I knew. It’s like a tether. A string tied between mates that connects them.”

“When did Feyre realize?”

Rhysand’s eyes darkened. “I kept it from her. For months when she was in the Night Court with me. The Suriel told her in the end but she came close to realizing it on Starfall.”

Nesta nodded, turning away from him. She was calculating precisely, taking in everything between her and Cassian. “And when one of you is hurt or in distress?”

“I’d do anything for her. To comfort her. To make her feel better. I’d slaughter my way to get to her, the only thing stopping me is her decision in the matter.” Rhysand studied her face. “But you already know how this works, don’t you?”

She turned back to him, his face had no smirk, no arrogance or hatred. “What do you mean?” Nesta said, but they both knew it was a lie. They both knew exactly why she came here.

“You just needed validation.” Rhysand said plainly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nesta gave Rhysand one last look and then opened the door back to the streets of Velaris.

She was down the steps before she heard his voice again. “Nesta,” She turned with heavy eyes to look at her sister’s mate. “He’s been through a lot, and so have you. He’s a good male.”

Nesta met his gaze as he leaned on the doorframe of his home. Pained and broken. “I know.”

Nesta trekked all the way to the Sidra and watched as the white rose fell from her grip and was swallowed by the current of the maddening river.

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Tagging: @my-fan-side @fck-tamlin @darlingfireheart @beetwixxt

#The Rose of Regret and the Sting of Desire #RoRSoD #rorsod part 3 #nessian mini series #nessian minific #nessian fic #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #cassian #acotar fanfic #acotar fic #nesta x cassian fanfic #sjmaas

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manonblckbeak · 7 years

Text

Storms Of The Heart

Or, in which Nesta can’t sleep and Cassian’s bed is a little bit too tempting.

Hey guys! Here I was, trying my best to write a fluffy oneshot, and this monster came out of me. I’m sorry. But hey, my wifey Nesta is a complecated person alright? What can I do about it? Lol. I hope you like this one, it’s very much hurt/comfort, so if you’re into that, this one’s for you!

Nesta Archeron wasn’t afraid of much. She’d learnt in life so far that fears, as much as love or affection, were signs of weakness. And Nesta wasn’t, in any way, shape or form—weak. But however hard she tried, however far she ran, there was one thing she could not drain from her system. And that was her fear of thunderstorms.

It seemed silly. Seemed childish and silly that a grown woman with her own dreams and job and responsibilities would be afraid of something as simple as a thunderstorm, but—but after the night her mother died, that was the one fear that tortured her mind.

It’d been dark. Dark and clouded and raining. Her mother had been dying for some time by then, but Nesta hadn’t been as aware of that fact as the day she was actually gone. She remembered sitting by her mother’s side as she lay on her bed, her sisters and her father crowding them as well. Nesta could still feel Feyre’s trembling hands and Elain’s soft murmurs as she cried, but nothing was as bright and terrifying as the memory of the blood pooling her mother’s nose and ears.

And there had been the thunder. Just as her mother collapsed in pure exhaustion and pain, and the smell of death filled the room as the blood ran down her face and neck, crusting and spilling on the sheets, her eyes lightless and staring straight up—thunder broke out, making Nesta jump in her seat by the bed. She could still feel that, too. The fear, the smells, the loneliness, her own exhaustion… it was all so—unbearable.

She’d never been able to be alone on thunderstorms after that. The thoughts that plagued her mind, the fear, the phantom smell of blood and death—it all haunted her like it was connected by a wicked trail.

So when it started to pour down outside at three in the morning, she jolted awake, as if pulled by an invisible force. And now, even as she sang softly to herself, even as she prayed to whatever Gods were listening, she just wished her sister were here to hold her hand—as weak and pitiful as that made her, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Nesta rocked slightly on her bed, sitting with her head between her knees, wondering why she had to be this much of a pussy when it came to these things.

Thunder struck, and she trembled beneath her linen sheets, grabbing at her knees so tightly that her knuckles turned white and the insides of her legs bared half moons where her nails pinched the skin. She did not scream—Nesta wasn’t one for drama, or excessiveness—but her mind was a roaring mess, begging her to do something, to find some sort of safety or comfort or—something.

Without meaning to, without even knowing what she was doing, her legs carried her up and out of her room. Away from the windows—but not just that… she found herself hesitating outside her roommate’s room, wondering what the hell she was supposed to say, what he would even make of this.

Nesta and Cassian weren’t on the best of terms. He was charming and arrogant and self-assured. She loathed him for it. And for everything else too. No one could be that good looking and not be an asshole.

In any case, even though it was obvious Cassian had other ideas of where their relationship could lead—Nesta had made sure that that would never be a possibility. She had been nothing but curt and bordering on rude to him, and put up more walls and boundaries than most people would in a lifetime over the span of the three months they had been rooming together.

Now, however, as she stood with a hand on the door handle, arms trembling so hard the door seemed to rattle beneath her grip, she would rather have his company than be alone—something she had never felt before. And certainly never thought she would.

Nesta wished she could call someone else, wished she could just be with Elain until this all passed—but she had learnt a long time ago that she could not burden others with her problems all the time. And Elain—well, she had her own problems to worry about. They might be silly and weird, but hey—so was this.

She finally sighed, admitting some kind of defeat to herself. And knocked on the door. “Cass?”

Nesta cracked the door open a little bit, the darkness in the room floating out into the hallway, and tried to make out his form inside. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could see his chest rising and falling peacefully, sleeping calmly. She approached slowly, one step after the other—trembling so much her teeth chattered as another thunder sounded far away—and said, “Cass?”

An eye opened, sleepy and unsure, and looked at her. “Nesta?” his voice was groggy and raspy—and sexy as fuck, but she wouldn’t—couldn’t think about that. “What’s going on?”

Thunder struck again and her shoulders shook, all the way down to her feet. Nesta adjusted her weight on her legs, wondering again just what in the hell she was doing here—why she couldn’t do this alone, and it had to be him… but came up with a big blank of an answer. “Can I—” she tried to speak but her voice broke and she didn’t even know what to say anymore. Stopping to think, she sighed and touched his shoulder, hands shaking, “I just—”

The thunder coerced a small noise from her, and Cassian shifted in bed, sitting up and grabbing her hand. He looked at her like she was going to break at any moment—she wanted to slap him for it, and would have, if it wasn’t for the fear and the crippling numbness clouding her every move—and said, “What is it?”

She couldn’t talk. Tried, but couldn’t, like the rain and the thunder had taken away her voice or her will to speak along with her common sense. What the hell was she doing? “I—”

Cassian squeezed her hand, trying to coerce something out of her, trying to reassure her that everything was okay, but she still felt stuck in place—still felt utterly useless and terrified. “Nesta?”

“I can’t—” Nesta felt her eyes line with silver as thunder struck again and again, the rain relentless, and his worried face did nothing to improve her mood or her current situation. Not because it made her own heart hurt—but because she was already scared—she didn’t need to feel annoyed, too. She gathered herself enough to say, “Can I sleep here tonight?”

He startled at the question, taking longer than normal to answer a simple, “Y-yeah.” He made space for her, patting the bed at his side for her to sit down on, “Sure.”

Nesta sat down beside him, far away from the heat emanating from his body, from the smell of him—already masking that phantom reek of death and blood and loss. She trembled and shivered as the rain poured, so hard the whole bed shook, and wondered if maybe this had been a bad idea—she was not feeling any better now than she had been before, anyway. But then, Cassian reached out a hand, wrapping it around her own as it rested on her knee, and squeezed once. Twice.

“Hey,” he said, as he came closer on the bed, and as much as she wanted to snap at him, as much as she wanted to pull herself away—she felt… safer. Warmer than she was before. “It’s okay.” Nesta didn’t know what in the hell was going on, why someone like her idiot roommate would have such a power over her—such a hold. And she decided that even if she was lost in a world of darkness and he was the only light shining through, well, she was not one to keep quiet and let it be—oh, no, she’d go down swinging. Kicking and screaming.

Nesta drew her arm back, a headache pounding in her head, and her limbs shaking with the effort to keep still and calm—how ironic was it that the very thing that was supposed to keep her whole made her tremble like a little kid? Herself—she should believe in herself always, but she wasn’t doing much on the self help front in terms of her desires and flaws in this very moment. All she wanted was to sleep, to forget about the rain, to stop—for everything to just stop.

“Nesta, you’re shaking,” he said, trying to reach her again, trying to make it better somehow—but she wouldn’t let him touch her, wouldn’t let him hold her. Because she had to be stronger than this, had to be stronger than her fears and—this, this friendship or whatever it was that he thought was forming between the two of them. She couldn’t let her weakness tear down the walls she had so carefully put up. Couldn’t, shouldn’t, wouldn’t. “Let me—”

“No!” Nesta got up with some difficulty, her shaking legs brushing over one another. “This was a bad idea—”

She made her way to the door, steps rushed and unsure, and Cassian raced after her—if only because she was a misstep away from falling on her face. “Nesta—” he said again, trying to reason with her, trying to understand, trying to figure out just what in the hell was going on—why she was even this upset and why she wouldn’t just let him help. Maybe they weren’t friends, and maybe she had to be the stoic girl she’d always been around him, and, yes, maybe he flirted too much—but wasn’t this the moment to leave all of that behind? To set aside their differences and finally—finally—work together to accomplish something actually good?

“Leave me alone, Montem,” the use of his last name hurt him like a lash to the face—she’d called him Cass earlier. He’d been too sleepy to even notice, but now… now it seemed so very important.

He grabbed her hand just as they reached her bedroom door—closed, as always. He’d probably never really seen it, her room that is, besides stolen glances whenever the door slammed open or closed. “You’re a mess, Nesta.” He said, hesitating when Nesta turned to him already red with anger. “Just let me help,”

Thunder struck outside, closer now that they were standing near a window, and Nesta flinched. Hard.

“It’s—it’s the thunder, isn’t it?” he said, trying to figure it out still, never quitting, never wavering—and even Nesta, though annoyed as she was, had to admit it was quite admirable. “You’re—”

“Stop. Just—” she waved her hands in front of him, like she was admitting defeat, like she was so, so very tired of everything else but this moment right here and now, like all pretense and all the walls she had put up were crumbling down. “Stop.”

He looked at her, truly looked—at her messed up hair and her stricken face and shaking body—and saw a little girl. Lost, lonely, afraid—everything she had longed not to be. Everything he had not wanted to see, either. Because Cassian, well, he was so taken by her that he had not wanted to see the parts of her that were not as attractive as the Nesta he saw every day. The steely, confident Nesta that talked back to every comment he made.

“Oh, Nesta,” he stepped closer, slowly, and she took a step back, backing into the door of her room. Cassian held his hands up, as if saying ‘I’m not going to try anything funny’ and stepped closer again.

His warmth enveloped her again, pushing out those thoughts, those feeling, that reek—of death, of loss, of phantom far away memories that were too painful to even remember. And she melted and stood taller at the same time, a tear falling down her left cheek. He lifted his hand slowly, as if tending to a wounded animal, and wiped it away with his thumb while his hand cupped her face.

“No,” she mumbled, the sound getting caught in her throat—she didn’t want this, didn’t want his help and didn’t want his coddling and didn’t want his pity. But everything felt so damn fragile in this state of loss and fear, and she felt so tired—so tired of pretending and tired of blocking him out and just plain tired. “No—”

“Shh,” he put his arms around her, loose enough that she could fight him off if she wanted—and she did, at first. Nesta pushed and pushed and pushed at his chest and he took blow after blow, because he felt it—felt it before it happened.

Nesta stopped fighting him and collapsed in his arms, crying openly now—finally. Like she now knew that it was not a weakness, it was not a flaw—it was a privilege. A privilege to be able to put out your emotions so freely and to have someone look at them, so raw, so untouched by anyone or anything else, and embrace it, embrace her, wholly. And at that, more tears came out of her steely blue eyes—now not so steel-like as they roiled like the storm lashing at the windowpanes.

“Shh,” he whispered again, rocking her in his arms. “It’s okay,”

She seemed to fall apart completely in his arms, letting go of all pretense that she was alright and that this was a wholly rational and solvable situation. Nesta just let go—let go of who she was and who he was and what they were supposed to be and what they couldn’t be together. It was all bullshit, anyway. All things she had made up in her head and feelings she had pushed aside just like she pushed aside the emotions that gathered around his smell and his flirtations and his words.

He held her until her sobs subdued, and then reluctantly let her go. “Stop,” she said again, and put a hand on his chest. Nesta climbed on her toes and pressed her lips to his—and for a moment she forgot about the storm, forgot about the thunder and the loss and the fear—and just felt—

Until Cassian stepped away. In all his time—telling her how much he wanted her, flirting and joking and making moves at utterly inappropriate times… now he stepped away. And she didn’t—couldn’t—understand. Didn’t want to. She just wanted it to be simple, to feel something other than the terrible weight that nights like these put on her shoulders, to connect. “What’s—”

She tried to reach up, tried to cup his face, but he drew back. “Nesta—” he didn’t know what to do with his arms, with his hands—what to say to her that would make this okay again. They had accomplished so much tonight, had broken through so many walls and somehow buried a hatchet that he didn’t even know was there, but this—this could be the very thing that ruined it all.

“Don’t you want me?”

“I do,” he breathed, “I do—Gods—” he wiped a hand over his face, looking at her like he had never seen anything as bright or as beautiful before. “I just—I don’t want it to be like this.”

She felt like crying—felt like screaming at him, at the world—because it was not enough, never enough to wish for something to just work out the way she wanted for once, to just unfold as she—as they both—wanted it to happen. “Like what exactly?” she snapped, traitorous tears falling down her cheeks again.

“Nesta, you know that’s not what I mean,” he said, even though she hadn’t said anything about it. He knew—she knew, too. “I just mean—you mean so much to me and you just kissed me because you need someone to comfort you right now.” He looked down at his feet, not wanting to see how right he was, not wanting to see the steel harden in her eyes again. “This is not about you needing me—this is about you needing someone.”

“And this—” she said as she got up on her tiptoes again, putting a hand under his chin until he looked up at her again, until he looked into those eyes and saw not steel, not ice—but fiery determination. Nesta brought her face close to his, so close their breaths mingled, his smell enveloping her, his warmth like a kiss in itself. And said, “This is about how wrong you are.”

And then, with all the might in the world, Nesta Archeron kissed him.

And maybe it was for comfort, too. Maybe it was to make herself feel better. But if there was one thing she knew about all this mess—it was that nothing had ever felt better than his lips on her own. So she kissed him—for better or for worse—and lost herself in him, but found in him so much more than she had ever even known to look for.

“When I die, Nesta Archeron,” Cassian finally said as they broke apart and breathed in each other—in the heat of the moment, eyes hungry and searching. “When I die, remind me to thank the Gods for thunderstorms.”

hey! if you like my writing, maybe come support me on patreon? I’d love it a lot! thank youuuu

#ACOTAR #ACOTAR fic #Nessian #Nessian fic #Cassian #Nesta Archeron #Nesta #my writing #Storms of the Heart

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aelin-and-feyre · 7 years

Text

Circumstance (Part 6)

Thank you everyone for waiting! Big revelations this chapter!!!

Tagging: @a-courtof-fangirls-and-fanfics @autumn03@rhysandpurred @crazybookladythings @readinggiraffe @devilsadvocate15 @marimarac @carolineherr15 @musiccbeach @illyrian-wingspans (let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts!)

Circumstance Masterlist

Rowaelin Daughter x Feysand Son

Rhys and Azriel winnow the two Archeron sisters and Ember into a room the princess had never seen before. Glancing quickly out the window, it is clear that they are in the House of Wind. Ember has been in a bad mood ever since she received the letter, but as she takes a cursory glance around the large gallery, she can feel her anger being overcome with awe and curiosity. The High Lord and his spymaster quickly depart, leaving the three ladies to wander and explore.

"So what exactly had you wanted to see in here?" Nesta's bored tone interrupts Ember from her wondrous inspection of the piece closest to her. She turns to find the eldest sister staring at her with a mockingly raised eyebrow. Ember straightens at the challenge.

"Many of Cadewyn's pieces hang in his room and I desired to view more of his work. They truly are extraordinary, don't you think?" She replies, forcing Nesta to match her level of tolerance if she doesn't want to look more like an ass.

Nesta huffs. "Yes, of course they are." She crosses her arms, glancing between her sister and the princess as if debating something. "Well, I have some emissary business to attend to. Elain should be able to show you around. Don't wreck anything."

Without even waiting for a response, Nesta whirls and stalks out of the room, closing the door rather harshly behind her. Elain shakes her head slightly with a sigh and hooks her elbow through Ember's. "Don't mind Nesta, she's just grumpy that Cade is gonna miss her birthday next week."

Ember stores that little piece of info in the back of her mind before further questioning. "She's very protective over Cadewyn, isn't she?" Elain chuckles softly and nods, beginning to maneuver the two of them to one side of the room. "But not Brexton?"

"Oh she used to be plenty protective over Brex, but now Magdalene does that enough for her." Elain gestures to the painting in front of them, near the door. "Cade has organized his gallery to be in chronological order. These are from when he was very young."

Ember examines the painting and the ones around it. It's incredibly obvious that they were done by a little boy, as, compared to the ones in her room, they are much more abstract and childish. Still, she can see the obvious skill that flowed through his hands even at such a young age. The pictures are a jumble, with no real theme or connotation. There are crude drawings of the mountains the surround Velaris, and jagged, dark paintings of wings. Colors vary widely but Ember notices a large amount of black as a whole, which makes sense for the son of the Night Court.

"He truly is a prodigy." She murmurs, stepping over to the next cluster of pictures, these being vastly different from the previous. Instead of black being the overarching color, these paintings are incredibly similar to the one that hangs just by her bed. Turquoise and gold and white envelope the canvases. "Is this for the Summer Court?" She wonders idly, trying to place why he would be so infatuated with this color scheme.

Elain laughs. "Cauldron, no.” Ember can feel the Seer’s eyes searching her face. “You truly don't recognize this?"

Ember looks at her, utterly confused, until one painting catches her attention. It's a childish depiction, formed in a football shape that conveys what Cade was modeling it after, and all the air is sucked out of Ember's lungs. She recognizes the picture, she's seen it in her mother, and her uncle, and her sister, and her mirror all her life. She wants to kick herself for not realizing it earlier.

"Th-that looks like m-my...." She trails off, unable to comprehend what this might mean.

Elain nods. "Yes. The resemblance is uncanny isn't it? He started painting these when he was five, and hasn't stopped since. I almost thought he might have been a Seer too until Feyre and Rhys told me what it really meant."

It takes too long for Elain's words to register in Ember's racing mind, and by the time she is ready to ask the question, Elain has realized she had said too much. "What does it really mean?"

The female waved a hand, her darting eyes conveying her nervousness. "Ah, don't listen to me, I'm just prattling on about nonsense. Cade just really likes these colors, thinks they go well together."

Ember knows she's lying. Elain is a Seer, and if anyone in the Night Court could give her answer about this male who is painting portraits of Ashryver eyes, it's her. She's about to demand that Elain tell her the truth, when something clicks in her brain. "Wait. Elain, you said that Cade began to paint these when he was five?"

Hesitantly, the middle Archeron sister nods. "Or a little bit after. He demanded that Feyre get him huge turquoise and gold tubs of paint, and has asked for refills every birthday since. Everyone in the Inner Circle recognized your eyes the moment you walked in the room."

"Why didn't anyone say anything?"

Elain shrugs, beginning to drift away from the display and towards the center of the room where a couple benches were available to sit on. "I think most of them thought it was a coincidence. Brexton knew, though, which is why he suggested you come here."

"Knew what? Elain, what are you not telling me?" Ember asks, suddenly desperate to understand. She practically runs to sit next to the female, grasping her hands and begging for answers.

Elain eyes her warily. "You truly have not figured it out? You've spent a week in his room, I thought you would have smelled it." Her chin jerks towards the wall again. "Go look at some more paintings and think. Feyre and Rhys would not appreciate me telling you. You have to figure it out for yourself."

Ember narrows her eyes, frustrated and annoyed that no one is telling her anything. Obviously, a lot of people in the Night Court know something about Cade that she doesn't. Ember hopes that Gusty can find out something soon. With a huff, Ember stands from the bench and walks back to the wall, admiring the next set of paintings.

Elain had said that Cade had been a little older than five when he started becoming obsessed with the colors that so resembled her eyes. Distantly, Ember recalls her first meeting with Cade over a decade ago, where he had pushed her down the stairs which forced her parents and her to leave the Leader Meeting early.

There is very little of that meeting that she can remember, but she does retain the memory of some strong emotion, and a great force that had erupted through her right before she fell. Drifting a little to the next set of paintings, it is plainly obvious the improvement the Cade made over very few years. One canvas holds this time a set of eyes, exactly her shade and color and pattern; deep blue with gold surrounding the pupil.

"The Leader Meeting..." She murmurs aloud. "That was where we first met."

"Ah, yes," Elain agrees, watching Ember from her perch on the benches. "He didn't mean to push you, y'know, it was an accident and he felt awful about it. I don't think he came out of his room for a couple weeks after that. He emerged with a urgent need for turquoise and gold paint, saying he'd used up his supply already."

"Why did he need to paint my eyes so badly?" Ember wonders, walking over to a new collection. Instead of darkness and shadows, these depicted a variety of different landscapes and colors. "Are these of the other courts?"

"Yes, he ran out of places to paint in the Night Court, and begged to be taken around Prythian. Feyre and him travelled the courts for months painting and drawing." A small smile made it's way onto Elain's lips. "It was the first time that he started to get over his fascination with you." Ember raised an eyebrow. "I imagine after so long, he's forgotten all about what those dreams were linked to."

That catches Ember's attention. "Dreams? He has dreams of my eyes?" Ember's head is spinning. She has dreams about his eyes. Now that she thinks about it, her dreams have been going on since she was little... probably since she was about five.

"All the time," Elain replies, her smile growing as if she can see the wheels turning in Ember's mind. For all the princess knows, maybe she can. "By the way, he didn't mean to go through your things, he's naturally curious. Your room brought back memories for him that he wasn't aware existed. He's wanted to see you again ever since you and your parents left the Leader Meeting a decade and a half ago."

"But why?" Ember almost yelled it in her anguish. She is done with the mind games. The Crown Princess of Terrasen demands to understand why she is so connected with a stranger.

Before Elain can respond, the door bursts open and Nesta stalks through. "What is going on in here? Elain, what are you telling her?" The female practically hisses.

"What she has a right to know, Nesta! You don't understand why they're doing this either! I'm just speeding the process along." Elain reasons, much more calm than Ember would be if Nesta was glaring at her like that.

"Gods! Will someone please just tell me what is happening already?" Ember is frantic, but Nesta doesn't care.

The eldest Archeron sneers. "I don't know anything for certain, Elain, and I'm not sure you do either." Then the piercing gaze is fixed upon the princess. "You'll find out soon enough. I'll have Cassian come get you, but Elain and I are leaving. You've gotten her into enough trouble as it is." And then Nesta firmly grasps Elain's wrist and pulls her out of the room.

Ember sinks to the ground, her hands coming up to hold her head and hopefully stop it from it's incessant spinning. "What is happening?" She whispers. Knowing she can't stay in this room any longer, surrounded by the evidence haunting her mind, and not being able to wait for Cassian, Ember strides towards the window. She throws it open and hesitates for a moment. Is she jumping to conclusions? Maybe Elain and Nesta are just messing with her mind. Maybe there is no real connection between her and Cadewyn.

However, it is impossible for even Ember to miss the signs. She glances back at the painting of her eyes, almost perfect replicas of the ones she sees everyday in the mirror, and makes up her mind. Shifting quickly, Ember flies out of the House of Wind and over Velaris, praying to the gods that no one sees her and realizes she's no ordinary bird.

When she arrives back to the townhouse, Ember shifts back and walks the rest of the way to her room. The scent of him envelops her and proves to only confuse her more, bringing back the feeling of home and safety. Forcing herself not to lose her nerve, Ember races to her desk and pulls out a piece of parchment.

And then she begins to write a letter to her mother.

"How does she feel about flying?" Cade asks, hanging upside down on his bed the next day, throwing a ball up in the air as he continues his round of questioning.

Gusty laughs quietly. "Oh, she loves it. It's one of her favorite past-times."

Cade's eyebrows crease and he deftly flips over to lay on his stomach, looking at the young princess with a quizzical expression. "Why do you laugh?"

Gusty wags her finger. "Nuh uh, sorry batboy, that's another thing I can't tell you. Ember should tell you about that herself." Cadewyn grumbles in response but doesn't push it. There are some things he hasn't told the girl either, feeling it right for him to tell the literal girl of his dreams himself. "Okay, my turn." She repositions her pen, ready to write down his answer to later tell her sister. "Do you miss the Night Court?"

"Well, of course. I miss my family and friends, and no offense, but your library is nothing compared to the one we have." Gusty nods and scribbles on her stationary. "But I also really like it here, all the mortals are really nice and your family is very welcoming." He waits a few seconds for her to finish writing before asking his question. "What's her favorite color?"

"Violet." Gusty replies without hesitation, and then glances up to see Cade's reaction. "She had wanted this room to be repainted violet a few years ago, but my parents talked her out of it for some reason."

Cade can't help but bring a hand up to touch his face, his fingers brushing the underside of his eye as he continues to speculate what the connection between them might mean. Before Gusty can ask her next question, there is a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Cade answers, assuming it's the food he and Gusty had ordered earlier. Instead of chocolate cake, however, the Queen is standing on the other side of the door. Both Cadewyn and Gusty rush to stand, the former bowing to his host as the latter waving.

"Hey, mama, what's up?" Gusty greets as she plops back down in her chair. Cade sits on his bed, feeling awkward in the presence of such a powerful woman.

Aelin smiles ruefully at her daughter. "I should have known I would find you in here. I hope you aren't terrorizing our guest too much."

"Not at all, Your Majesty." Cade assures, his mind racing for a reason for this visit.

The queen nods, and then turns to face him, allowing him to see the paper she is holding. He recognizes the Night Court stationary immediately. He gulps. "Don't look so frightened, it's not bad news. In fact, it's a letter from Ember." Her words don't help Cade calm his nerves at all. If anything, they are heightened. "She informed me that you are missing your aunt’s birthday next week."

Cade nods, his mouth dry as he wonders where this is going. Why would Ember have told her mother about Aunt Nesta's birthday?

"Ember suggested that you take a trip back for the day, if only to spend some time with your family on the special occasion." Aelin continues, either oblivious or ignoring Cade's slight shaking. "Is that something that you would desire?"

He shares a glance with Gusty, who is nodding eagerly. Obviously, the princess understands her sister's motives better than he does. Deciding to trust her judgement, Cade looks back to the queen's expectant expression. "I would like that very much, yes. My Aunt Nesta was rather put out that I would be missing her celebration. I think it would be a nice surprise for her." And then it clicks. "Does that mean Ember would come home for the day as well?"

Aelin glances down at the letter and frowns a bit. "She says that there is no reason to, and as it would probably be a logistics nightmare, she does not want to cause unneeded stress or planning. She understands that you are able to winnow like your parents and believes that you would be able to make the trip without anyone escorting you. I'd say she's put a lot of thought into the ordeal."

'Indeed she has.' Cade thinks, finally catching onto what the princess is thinking. "If you would allow me to, it would be very nice to go back for the day."

Aelin nods once. "Yes, and I imagine you're rather homesick anyway. Then it's settled. Can you winnow yourself there and back no problem, or would you like someone to accompany you?"

Gusty practically falls off her chair trying to get Cade's attention. He glances at her as she pleads with him silently, pointing to herself and almost begging him to take her along. Cade chuckles. "Would you allow Gusty to accompany me? I'm afraid I've told her so much about Velaris, I think she would murder me if I didn't take her along."

Aelin looks to her youngest with a smirk, contemplating the risks, and then finally sighing. "I'll have to check with Rowan, but I think that would be okay. She'll come back with you when the day is over though. She's not staying there with Ember."

The loudest squeal erupts from Gusty's mouth as she jumps up and runs to hug her mother. "Thank you thank you thank you! I promise I'll be good. I'll be perfect! You will not regret this!" Then she stops short and gasps. "I need to go pack. I'll see you later!" And with a quick gust of wind, the princess is gone.

Aelin laughs, turning back to Cade and shaking her head. "Promise you'll protect her?"

"With my life." Cade vows, only barely able to conceal the emotions roiling inside of him. Aelin nods, somewhat hesitantly, and bids him goodnight, closing the door behind her.

Cade falls back in his bed and covers his face with his hands, seeing bright turquoise eyes with a circle of gold dancing across his eyelids. He lets out a small sound of excitement and looks above him, smiling up at the canopy wickedly. "I'm gonna meet her." He whispers.

He is unable to eat the chocolate cake that night.

Masterlist

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easkyrah · 8 years

Text

Aeonian AU Series part 1

A Nessian Greek Mythology based fic and a darker twist to this ship. There will be this Aeonian series (Nessian) and an Antiscians series (Elorcan).

“Well, aren’t you a little ray of pitch black?”

Aeonian 1

“Poor Nesta,” Ianthe chided. “No longer a virgin.”

Nesta’s fingers wrapped around her fork, tightly gripping the cold metal.

“No God would want a deflowered woman,” the blond crooned. “Especially one who thinks she knows her place.”

The brown-haired woman stabbed at a piece of salad, and shoved it into her mouth. Chewing slowly on the hard leaves, she quelled the chaotic waves surging within her. She refused to give into her anger—to allow the resurfacing memories of Tomas to have the last hold on her.

“You always talked about not wanting a God.” The other female smiled, sharp as a blade. “I guess Tomas Mandray really did you a favor.”

That was the last straw for Nesta. Yes, no God would want to claim a non-virgin—which was perfectly fine with her, especially after all Feyre had been accounted for, still missing to this day—but for Ianthe to dare—have the audacity to—rub assault in her face, even from the dark times of three years ago—

The eldest Archeron sister twirled the fork in her fingers, staring hard at the dried, yellow leaves and mottled, squished fruit in front of her. It was against the law to attack a priestess, but an even greater sin to murder the village’s Head Priestess.

But no one said anything against accidents.

With a flick of her wrist, Nesta sent the fork flying out her hands and at Ianthe’s right eye.

A perfect execution. A warning that a line had been crossed. A sign that they would never see eye to eye—that Nesta’s gaze would never waver. Unblinking, and unflinching.

A loud gasp escaped from Nesta’s mouth, and she lunged forward, knocking Ianthe to the floor. The High Priestess’s shrill pierced the air, and Nesta moved quickly, digging the edge of the fork deeper, twisting the metal. Even through the metal, she could feel the edges grinding against the root, white and pink liquid swirling.

“I’m so sorry!” Nesta cried. She pretended to feebly shake the hand gripping the fork in Ianthe’s eye and slipped on a mask of horror, climbing on top of the over female so the Priestess could not escape. Nesta’s hair fell across her face, a shadowed curtain—and she allowed Ianthe to see the dark smile cutting across hers face, sharper and deeper than any mortal blade.

For three years, the darkness’ isolation had cultivated into something icier and harsher—a ghost of a phantom whirling within her. She’d shown Ianthe just a pinch.

As the High Priestess shrieked, bodyguards stormed into the diner, clad in plates of metal, faces shadowed by a thick, black masks. Nesta allowed the memories of three years ago to consume her, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. Loosening her grip on the fork, she curled into herself, rocking on her heels.

The nearest guard grabbed her elbows and set her roughly onto her feet.

“What the hell happened?” he gruffly ordered, shaking her shoulders.

Ianthe let out a hiss, but Nesta’s contempt was a gaping abyss full of raw will.

The eldest Archeron sister harshly rubbed away stray tears seeping down her cheeks, and forced down the sick smile threatening to erupt across her face. “The High Priestess came out of nowhere—” Nesta hiccuped “—my reflexes spun out of control—”

“Psychopath!” Ianthe screeched. “Chain her! Whip her!”

When the guard reached out for her, Nesta collapsed onto her knees, and laid her palms against the Priestess’s heart. “Forgive me,” she loudly cried. “I meant no malice.”

She leaned in closer to Ianthe’s face, as if she were to kiss her cheeks, the fallen woman sobbing and shuddering. Nesta brushed a finger against the golden-haired woman’s forehead as an almost tender caress, and wrapped her hand around the emblem pinned to Ianthe’s robes. Pressing her lips against the High Priestess’ ear, Nesta whispered, “Now you can see half the darkness I do.”

Ianthe kicked upwards, trembling fingers grasping the hilt of the fork. Nesta rolled off of the blue-robed woman, burying her hands into her pockets and hunching her shoulders—the image of a thoroughly scared woman.

Ianthe’s throat elicited squeaks of gagging and gurgling noises, but her right eye pinned on Nesta’s form. Her mouth pinched, then hissed out, “Put her in an empty cell!”

The guard trapped Nesta’s wrists, tugging her away from the High Priestess. Two more went at her sides, caging her in. Little did they know cornering a wildcat, bred from the savageness only the true seers of society saw, would end in detrimental dysfunction.

Nesta schooled her features into a blank, empty face, struggling within the solid grip. She spared a glance towards the blue-robed woman. “The only cells missing are those in your eye.”

Stepping over the boots and knocking herself forward as she were tripping, Nesta twisted herself out of the guard’s grasp, using the falling momentum to bring him down on his back.

Plates of metal lumbered towards her, and Nesta tore out the the diner, blocking the sounds of Ianthe’s feeble cries of my eye, my eye, my eye over and over again.

Fixing her sleeve, a darker and sharper smile shot over Nesta’s face.

She didn’t even have to pay for that shit excuse of a meal.

II.

Nesta stole through the night and into the forest. Here, the darkness draped over her already black-clad frame. She knew this path at the back of her mind, weaving through thick tree trunks and sailing over high-branched roots. Slowly, the heavy clanging sounds of armor receded from her ears. Nonetheless, Nesta picked up her pace.

Ever since Feyre had been taken three years ago and Tomas had yanked her into a barn, Elain and Nesta had taken refuge in seven villages—this one included. Both Archeron sisters turned into wanderers, fleeing with the wind. Trust was reduced to bread crumbs, and even they could barely afford for the tiniest slice.

What God had taken Feyre—Nesta had no idea, but had her suspicions. It had been any other morning, Nesta serving buttermilk pancakes while Elain had went up to fetch Feyre from the drawing room. Rather than seeing their middle sister painting with her hair twisted up into a messy bun, the stench of alcohol and grapes had permeated the room.

Elain had screamed. Nesta came up running with a knife in her hand.

Feyre’s hunting clothes had been strewn all over the floor, a purplish-green scrap of fabric littering across a canvas. It was as if the their middle sister had given them a warning and a signal that she’d been claimed—by a God.

Nesta knew the rules. When Gods claimed humans, they dressed them in their ornamental colors and symbols. Yet green and purple were common colors, even found among the varying masses of minor Gods.

It was then Nesta banished all hope of desiring to be claimed by a God. She’d once dreamed, among the others, to be one with another force, to see through another set of eyes, and to ascend the mortal limits.

She’d once set apples and pears along the mantle of Athena, the one God she’d revered the most. Three years ago, she’d pray to the God of Wisdom, asking for guidance. Now all she did was pray to the minor Gods of vengeance and fear, demanding divine retribution for those who had wronged her—because it hadn’t just been her who’d been afflicted and twisted.

Nesta had watched Elain spiral into the coldness as well. The youngest Archeron no longer made honeyed offerings to Demeter, the goddess of the Earth. Instead, the roses the youngest Archeron grew turned dark and far more thorny, picking their fingers as if lines of blood served as penance.

It was as if the darkness of the demons had descended upon the Archeron sisters.

No happiness, no protection, no understanding.

A branch snagged the sleeve of her arm, and Nesta hissed. Despite the village’s soldiers pursuing her and having to move to another village, she felt oddly safe and warm, a blanket of false security coating her.

Perhaps it was because she’d stolen the golden emblem from the High Priestess, the coin tucked securely under her sleeve. The price would last them another to journey to another village.

The moon casted swirls of strange colors of white against the darkness and the green of the forest. She slowed to a walk, taking in her surroundings. The branches hunched low, creating scattered, estranged shadows curving in odd shapes. Nesta slowly angled her body and slid through a cluster of vines.

The myths had become reality a long time ago, the Gods deciding to end their supposed boredom in waiting. The beginnings of their reappearance into society was more than often bloody, spurring jealously in both claiming humans rampant and in being desired to be claimed.

Their father had worshiped Hermes, the messenger God, and named the Archeron fortune in his name. Nesta had considered it justice when a business company across the sea had sunk their father’s ship, and had stolen every commodity on board.

Their father had never returned the sail back, his reputation reduced to a merchant following the God of Thieves who saw the end, robbed of life and fortune.

The obsession with the Gods had seen the decline in family values, many children left alone or pitted against each other. Their father had been no exception, travelling to Athens, Greece, in hope of appeasing Hermes.

Death had been his answer.

While Nesta believed it to be foolish to devote a lifetime in praying for Gods, the higher beings indeed chose humans. Those taken under their wing received immortality. It could be eons before Feyre would be brought back to them willingly and unwillingly, and there was a high chance Nesta and Elain would be six feet under in a coffin or reduced to ashes by that time.

It had taken Feyre’s kidnapping for Nesta to realize that being trapped in a powerful body with no regard for lesser creatures and their emotions and past was something she did not want.

So by the fifth village that had been outcasted to, she’d stopped praying and stopped her offerings.

Elain had followed suit.

Both sisters had been shunned from their original village in consequence.

Now that Nesta had harmed Ianthe, it looked like they’d have to move again. Whisperings of rumors and fault had followed the Archeron sisters as they traveled, and it never seemed the words would never cease.

Cursed.

Yet solace stirred within her, and Nesta scowled at the feeling akin to comfort’s cost crawling within her.

Elain would be beyond worried by now. Nesta knocked away the thin branches and ducked under a canopy of large ivies she knew would reveal a large clearing only a couple of meters away from their temporary home. Soon, she’d be running in the veil of the night, holding Elain’s thin hands again.

Her head rammed into steely hardness.

She rubbed her nose and slowly backed up.

Seething, Nesta untucked a dagger hidden under her sleeve, and pushed the wall forward with her other hand.

It didn’t move.

Squinting through the darkness, Nesta realized that streaks of dark, dried red pooled down silver plates, sheer power exuding from the figure.

A soldier.

The amount of blood could only mean a dead man.

But if a soldier was here, then the chances of Elain’s safety was very low. She had to get out of here, quickly and quietly.

Cursing under her breath, she turned around back under the canopy, but a gloved hand with a huge, red jewel pulsating at the center lashed out and captured her wrist.

It was a solid grasp, almost crushing her bones.

This was not the ordinary soldier’s strength. And it was a very much alive man.

She dropped the dagger into her other hand and sliced it vertically towards the hand.

Her blade merely bounced off, falling to the ground.

With a yank, the hand jerked her back against a chest of steel and coldness. Yet Nesta felt warmth pour over every vein and crevice in her body.

The male towered over her, dark, hazel eyes cramming into her own soul, sheer strength emanating from him, broad shoulders with muscles roping around an enormous form.

A purebred, dangerous warrior.

Those piercing orbs raked over her, starting from the bottoms of her torn boots to over her clothes and under the slope of her breasts, up to her collarbone and into her own stormy eyes. Black boots, black pants, black sleeves—and if he looked close enough, he’d see a black painted heart.

A brow flicked up. “Whose funeral?”

Nesta shuddered at the low, husky voice that shot down her spine. She refused to be weak again—the last time she was in a male’s embrace three years ago. She would not be fooled again.

“Get off me,” she hissed instead, and squirmed fruitlessly in his grasp.

His dark inked hair and ruggedly shaven face rang a bell, but Nesta didn’t care, not when Elain had been alone far too alone. The predatory glint in the male’s face heightened memories of three years ago, but her body remained strangely calm and soothed.

“That’s no way to treat a God.”

Nesta realized the blood seeping from the armor was not from the male’s, but a head hanging from the canopy above, a thin river of red raining down.

Nesta arched her own brow. “I’d suggest planning his funeral soon.” She could see the outlines of the dead body strung along vines and branches, gutted and torn apart.

The male shrugged. “If you want to plan a murdering liar’s funeral, then be my guest.” The arm around her waist hitched up to rub circles across her back, almost daring her to string the body back to pieces.

Nesta didn’t find the action disturbing, but rather reassuring. Perhaps he was a minor god in infatuation or magic along those lines. The gaze no longer seemed of predatory possessiveness, but of amused affection.

A dangerous smile appeared on those rough-hewn features, as those seemingly pulsing eyes studied her. “I like women who can handle blood.”

“I like men who can respect boundaries.” Nesta damned her cover and swore if he didn’t let her go, she’d scream—even if it meant drawing the village’s soldiers here.

The male seemed to read her thoughts. “You think humans are match for a God?”

Nesta didn’t reply, and cursed her own traitorous body sinking into the comfort and warmth the male seemed to offer.

He leaned in closer, a hand stroking her hair. “A match for the God of War?”

Nesta’s eyes widened. “You lie.”

It was one thing to meet a demi-God or a minor God, but one of the Twelve Olympians?

“Now why would I lie, sweetheart?” The God leaned down and brushed his mouth against her ear. “Especially to one I want to claim?”

Another last straw for Nesta. She lashed out, but the God easily cupped her knee cap with one hand—just hovering over the V of his hips—and the other hand flattening a palm against her back.

“A cheap shot.” A grin.

Nesta went up on her toes, her hands cupping the God’s cheek. His skin was warm and sent delicious trills down her. The God leaned down as well, his eyes darkening, a low growl erupting from his throat, hands folding around her waist. Just before his lips closed on hers, Nesta’s knee collided with her aim.

It was a pity his armor covered his torso, but the God still doubled over in pain, a foul curse leaving his mouth.

Nesta didn’t wait before she sprinted around the clearing and to the house where Elain was waiting. Running past the locked front door, she hurdled over a bush into the back.

Slipping through the window and into their shared room, Nesta grabbed her bag, stuffing the nearest clothes into the brown material.

A frail figure rose from the tiny bed, and Elain rubbed her eyes. “Nesta?” she whispered, a sigh of relief escaping her chapped lips.

“Pack,” Nesta ordered. “We’ve got to move again.”

Elain immediately hauled herself out of the bed, rapidly opening all the tiny cupboards and sweeping the contents into bags. “What was it this time?”

“Ianthe, soldiers, and a God.” Nesta folded all the blankets and stuffed the pillows.

“The High Priestess?” Elain said, heading to the bathroom. When she emerged, all the toiletries had been zipped into bags and stuffed into a larger sack. “What God?”

A God of War.

One that made her feel alive instead of merely existing.

Instead, Nesta said, “Just a minor one.” She beckoned Elain to head to the kitchen so pack their last rations, the cold air seeping into their skin. She gave the guards about another hour before they found their refuge.

Locking the window shut, Nesta froze when Elain’s scream shattered the air. The oldest Archeron’s blood ran cold, the hair on her arms prickling. Not again, not again, she desperately prayed to anyone listening. She didn’t know what she would become if her another God took her other sister from her.

But that was what he was compared to them.

“Just a minor God?” the God tsked his tongue, staring at Nesta—as if Elain were invisible and as if he could consume Nesta right there and then.

“Get out of my house,” she seethed, and nudged Elain away.

Elain levelled Nesta with a clipped stare. “Really, Nesta? The God of War? Ares?”

Ares.

The name sent shivers down her spine. It made the situation too real, too risky. By no means was this some minor God, as Elain had realized, trembling.

She supposed it was the small mercies—the God allowing Elain to bolt away—that mattered.

An eyebrow cocked towards her. “It’s won’t be your house much longer will it, Nesta?” When she didn’t answer—her veins on fire—he pushed further. “Guards are searching for you and closing in. I smell all sorts of war, and the encounter will not leave either of you—” the God briefly glanced at Elain—“unharmed.”

“What do you want?”

The God rose from the chair, the darkness wavering around him. The red jewels on top of each of his gloves exuded another type of power. A set of dimples winked down on her and those deep, brown eyes stared unfathomably at her. “I want to claim you.”

Nesta swallowed. This was her last defense, her last barrier to remain free: “I’m not a virgin.”

With swiftness beyond reason, the God moved so he was in front of her. He studied her eyes and the pulse along her throat—the fury and the rage in her own eyes and the quicker, beating pulse in memory of three years ago. Seconds passed before his eyes narrowed, and he gutted out, “Who?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You resist my claim, and the guards will be here sooner than you think.”

Nesta shivered. “Then you’re just as bad as him.”

The male who had taken her away three years ago.

The God of War looked down at her, and gently reached out a hand, traced with scars and bruises. When she didn’t bat it away, his knuckles slowly caressed her cheek. “I can help you, sweetheart.”

She’d wasted enough time. “Help is just another word for control.”

“Who hurt you,” the God snarled, the red stones flaring. Lethal dark oozed from them.

A crash sounded from the other side, and Elain meekly peeked up from under the countertop. “I packed all the kitchenware.”

The God of War didn’t spare a glance in the other direction, determinedly staring into her soul—seeing the darkness. “I can help you and your sister. You’ll be safe. You won’t have to run again.”

“At what cost?”

He leaned down so that his forehead touched hers. Warmth shot through her at the contact, and in that moment, she felt safer than she’d even been in his life.

“I claim you,” he murmured, voice dark and dangerous, deep and deadly. “As mine.”

“And if I refuse?”

A glimmer of amusement in those hazel eyes. “I hear cells in this village are quite cold.”

“Threatening a mortal?”

“What can I say, sweetheart?” A cocky, dark grin, honed from insanity and lunacy in the battlefield. “All’s fair in love and war.”

#greek mythology based #acotar #acomaf #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta x cassian #cassian x nesta #greek mythology #acotar au #acomaf au #acowar

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nihtfrowann · 4 years

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☾ 𝐟𝐞𝐲𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬

#☾ feyre archeron #☾ feyre; interactions #☾ feyre; asks #☾ feyre; visuals #☾ feyre; desires #☾ feyre; connections #☾ ship; feysand #☾ feyre v; i was mortal once #☾ feyre v; a court of thorns and roses #☾ feyre v; a court of mist and fury #☾ feyre v; a court of wings and ruin #☾ feyre v; to the stars who listen- and the dreams that are answered

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thebluemartini · 5 years

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Far From the Shallow - Chapter 5 [Nessian Fic]

FIC LENGTH: Multi-chapter (Total Chapter Estimate: 14)

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 TAGGING: @dreaming-of-bohemian-nights @queenofillea1 @trash-for-nessian @nestaarcheronwillkillme @my-fan-side @strangeenemy @maastrash @cageddovepoetry @bybooksanddreams @lilbat90 @ritamordio19 @mastercommandercaptain @feysand-dot-acotar @archeron-queen @welcometothespeaknowworldtour

@empress-ofbloodshed @there-is-warmth-in-winter @mybbyfeyre @saltydreamcollector @aditiiparasharr

@justlikethecheshirecat

@mis-lil-red @supebowlere @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies

*This chapter is also posted on AO3 and FF

________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 5: January – Part I

“We’ve been having Azriel pay special attention to Dunclare,” Rhys revealed from his spot next to Feyre on the couch across from Cassian. “He hasn’t heard any rumors or observed anything lately about them wanting to threaten or attack you again.”

Cassian wasn’t surprised. Once Nesta told him that she used some type of power to knock out three Illyrians at Dunclare on Solstice and nearly killed them, he figured Dunclare wouldn’t be threatening them again anytime soon. If they thought she was a witch, they’d be frightened of her power and wouldn’t dare try to attack again without knowing how to combat her power.

They didn’t realize she didn’t know how to use her power. Cassian thanked the gods for that.

“But,” Rhys continued. “Azriel has apparently heard them spreading word about a witch in the camps, and he believes they are referring to Nesta.” Rhys and Feyre both looked up at Cassian with a puzzled look as they said this.

Cassian’s heart began to race. He knew there was no way he was going to be able to avoid talking about Nesta at this meeting, but part of him still hoped he’d be able to graze over the fact that she came to Dunclare. Because talking about her made him anxious for two reasons: one being that Nesta forbade him from telling them she was pregnant, and second, she also ordered him to not tell them of her newly discovered power.

A power that had not resurfaced since that night. In the two weeks since the Solstice, Cassian would have her grab his arms to see if she could make it happen again, insisting they should learn how this power of hers worked. He knew she would be able to stop it if it did occur, considering she left the Illyrians at Dunclare alive. Reluctantly, Nesta attempted to unleash the power, but nothing happened each time.

When he first wrote to Rhys and Feyre to inform them what happened at Dunclare, Nesta did permit him to say that she went with him (after much pleading from him, not wanting to have to lie even more to his His Lord and Lady). But she did not want him to tell them about her power because she didn’t think her sisters deserved to know anything about her life, so he neglected to mention how exactly the two of them escaped Dunclare camp.

“What makes them think she’s a witch?” Feyre asked.

Cassian swallowed nervously as he tried to come up with a way to avoid talking about Nesta’s new power that the few Illyrians at Dunclare experienced first-hand. “Remember when Nesta met Devlon for the first time? He thought she was a witch, and she claimed she was one too. I think it stems from that.”

“But did anything happen at Dunclare that would make them think she was a witch?” Feyre wondered. “I was shocked she even went with you.”

“Nesta demanded to come with me,” Cassian stated.

“Why?”

“She was threatened by the dead birds as well and felt like she should go too.”

Feyre slowly nodded in response but still seemed bewildered. “And how did the two of you escape?”

Cassian had been trying to come up with an adequate explanation for this his entire flight to Velaris that morning. He didn’t want to come up with an entirely new story. As close to the truth as possible would be best...meaning he would still say Nesta was the one who knocked out the Illyrians. But her method of doing so would have to be different...

“When I was unconscious, Nesta managed to catch them unaware and struck them all with a metal bowl to knock them out. Then we walked away from the camp until I was able to fly us out of there,” Cassian explained. “Perhaps, the Illyrians were just amazed she managed to hit them so hard with the way they view females and all, and that’s why they still think she’s a witch.” Cassian shrugged.

Rhys and Feyre considered his words and seemed to nod along in agreement that that was a possibility.

Cassian nearly sighed out of relief.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t go alone,” Rhys commented. “Azriel and I are going to pay them a visit on Saturday to remind them who their High Lord is and the consequences of murdering the General Commander,” Rhys continued. “I wish I could just take Orion’s war-lordship away,” he muttered.

“Me too,” Cassian growled. But if Rhys just took the war-lordship away from Orion, all the other Illyrian camps and war-lords would take it as another slight against them. There were no witnesses to the near-murder. It was Cassian and Nesta’s word against the three Illyrians.

There was no way the rest of the Dunclare camp and the other Illyrian camps would take the word of their bastard commander and his supposed witch and whore.

“Are you going with Rhys to Dunclare?” Cassian asked as he looked at Feyre.

“No, I’ll be staying here,” she stated. “I’ll be busy teaching art classes all day on Saturday.”

Cassian nodded, taking note of this information. He had told Nesta he had wanted to take her shopping for new clothes in Velaris, but when he had brought it up again last week, she expressed that she didn’t want to risk running into the Inner Circle or Elain.

But with Rhys going to visit Dunclare, Feyre preoccupied with art classes, and Elain never leaving the estate (as Feyre had mentioned to him earlier)...then perhaps he could convince Nesta to go.

Rhys and Feyre turned to look at each other then, and Cassian could tell they were talking to each other through the bond.

That bond that he was so jealous of. For centuries, he didn’t believe the mating bond was anything special, having witnessed bonds between couples who seemed so unhappy with each other...but Rhys and Feyre were proof that the bond could be special and extraordinary.

He wanted that. For centuries, he had felt so...lonely. Sure, he had the Inner Circle and had had many lovers...but he longed for something more. With someone.

Rhys suddenly got up and left the room, leaving Feyre to stare directly at Cassian.

“How is Nesta doing?” she asked softly.

Well, she’s pregnant, which appeared to shake her out of her state of emptiness. The baby has seemed to encourage her to find a purpose, to better herself. Because of the child, she avoids alcohol. She eats and is looking much healthier. She eats with me and talks to me. She’s still as fierce as ever. And now she apparently has the power to slow down a fae’s heartbeat and nearly kill them.

That’s what Cassian wished he could say.

He took a deep breath. “She’s well. She hasn’t had any alcohol, and she eats. She’s looking much healthier.”

Feyre smiled as her eyes lit up. “That’s wonderful! Do you think...I could come visit her?”

It would be one way for her to discover Nesta’s pregnancy...but Nesta would never forgive him if he allowed Feyre to come visit, knowing the bitterness she still harbored towards her. He had come so far with Nesta...he couldn’t ruin what had developed between them...An alliance? A friendship? Whatever it was, he didn’t want to risk losing her trust.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he answered hesitantly. “She’s...still angry at you.”

The smile on Feyre’s face disappeared, but she nodded in understanding.

Still, the desire to tell her that her sister was pregnant gnawed at him. He was essentially lying to his High Lady...

He’d need to get out of here before he blurted out the news. Abruptly, he stood up. “I better get going.”

Feyre nodded and stood up to follow him out of the room. When they reached the entryway, she hugged him goodbye as Rhys appeared.

“Are you sure you don’t want one of us to just winnow you back?” she asked.

“He’s probably thankful to have more time away from Nesta by flying,” Rhys commented. Feyre frowned.

“Yeah,” Cassian lied half-heartedly. It’s seemed to be the best coverup for the real reason...the fact that he couldn’t risk Rhys or Feyre seeing a pregnant Nesta. “But you know I love flying too.”

After a quick embrace with Rhys, he stepped outside of Feyre and Rhys’ home and took off to the sky.

________________________________________________________________

When he arrived back at his cabin, he didn’t see Nesta anywhere. Knowing she often took walks around the camp, he decided to go look for her.

He certainly did not expect to find her in the middle of one of the training rings.

He spotted her crouching down in the middle of the ring, wrapping a young Illyrian boy’s arm. As he approached, he found Emerie leaning against the fence surrounding the ring.

“What is she doing?” he wondered as he stood next to Emerie and watched Nesta talk to the boy. He couldn’t hear what they were saying but he could tell from Nesta’s features that she was speaking to him gently and sweetly...There was no sign of a frown or a smug smirk. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen Nesta talk to someone like that before.

“The boy got hurt during training. When the training ended, she rushed over to him and started bandaging his arm with her pieces of her shirt,” Emerie explained.

Suddenly, an older female approached the ring opposite Cassian and Emerie. The female looked at Nesta and scowled. Then she looked at the young boy. “Talon!” she shouted. “I told you to stay away from that witch! Get over here!”

The boy immediately ran over to the woman. Nesta just stared at them as they walked away. When they were out of sight, Nesta made her way back to where he and Emerie stood. Upon seeing Cassian, Nesta appeared startled, but quickly composed herself and walked with more determination toward them.

“Are Illyrian children taught anything else besides how to fight?” she immediately questioned them upon reaching them.

“Hello, sweetheart. The journey from Velaris was great. Thanks for asking,” Cassian sarcastically stated in response to her abrupt question.

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Just answer the question. And let’s start walking back. The baby is hungry,” she stated with a slight edge to her voice.

Nesta started to walk away, and Cassian and Emerie followed after her.

“The only formal lessons they have are for fighting,” Cassian answer seriously.

“Only their family members - if they are literate - will teach them to read and write. Their mothers teach their daughters how to cook and clean,” Emerie piped in.

“Hmm,” was all Nesta said on the matter before she began to button up her coat over her now torn-up shirt without losing her stride.

Cassian glanced over at her and noticed that the shirt she was wearing seemed familiar…

“Are you wearing my shirt?” he asked, unable to hide his bewilderment.

“I assume so. I found it in one of the drawers in my room. My dresses are too snug,” she stated simply.

“I’m surprised you would willingly wear something of mine considering you always complain of my supposed stench,” he remarked.

And he was also surprised how...even more attractive he found her to be while wearing one of his shirts.

“Oh, I made sure to wash it twice before wearing it,” she said smugly.

Cassian grinned back. “As much as I adore the fact that you’ve actually deigned to wear one of my shirts, I found out today that Rhys will visiting Dunclare on Saturday and Feyre is going to be busy teaching art classes, so perhaps, we can go shopping in Velaris.”

“Where will Elain be?” Nesta questioned him seriously.

“She never leaves the estate.”

“And Azriel?”

“Will be with Rhys.”

“And Mor?”

“In the Winter Court.”

“Amren?”

“Still in the Summer Court.”

Nesta took a deep breath. “You’re positive that my sister will be busy teaching art classes?”

“Yes.”

She took another deep breath. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, I’ll go.”

Cassian grinned. “Excellent.”

________________________________________________________________

The scarf that Nesta had wrapped around her face was beginning to itch. But she refused to remove it.

Cassian thought she was crazy when she put the scarf on as well as the hood of her jacket, leaving her eyes to be the only visible part of her face.

“You do remember that Velaris is not as cold as it is here, right?” Cassian had said earlier that day.

She had glared at him as he lifted her in his arms and proceeded to explain how there were some people in Velaris who could recognize her as their High Lady’s sister.

...Then there was also the fact that following the war, somehow many of the Night Court inhabitants knew that Nesta and Cassian had nearly died together on the battlefield. She didn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea about them shopping together...especially since she was now visibly pregnant. But of course, she did not voice this reason aloud to Cassian.

Looking up at him as they soared through the sky toward Velaris, she was...surprised. Surprised at the contentment upon his face as he carried her and surprised at the ease she even felt to be within his arms.

As if feeling her gaze, he glanced down at her with a smile. “Almost there,” he said before grabbing her more tightly and swooping down toward the ground.

Even though the flight took hours, she found that she wished she was in the security of his embrace for a little while longer when they landed on the sidewalk and Cassian put her down on the ground.

Shaking off whatever feeling that was - it was probably because of the pregnancy, she told herself - she stepped away from him and looked from left to right at the shops along the street before them. It was her first time in Velaris in months.

And...she didn’t exactly miss it.

She turned around and looked past the buildings of the bustling city to a more run-down area of the seemingly spotless city. There lied her old apartment, all the seedy bars she frequented...

She didn’t miss that area either.

Bringing a hand up to her stomach, she started rubbing circles as she thought about what that period of time left her with.

“Want to head this way? I know of a shop with maternity clothes down there,” Cassian stated, causing her to turn around. He gestured with his hand pointing to the left.

Nesta nodded and began strolling alongside Cassian down the sidewalk. The street was filled with a fair amount of fae who were shopping in the strip of shops. To her relief, none of them seemed to pay them any attention. With Cassian’s status, she wasn’t sure if he’d draw attention.

But there was a family that caught her attention.

A male and a female, who she assumed was married, were walking toward them as their two young children skipped excitedly while holding their hands. The parents’ faces seemed to radiate joy as they smiled and happily replied to their curious children’s questions.

She couldn’t help but wonder...would that be what she would be like with her child? Would she be able to remain patient and gentle and excitedly talk to him or her about what they were going to do that day?

And would anyone ever be by her side to be patient and gentle and excited with her?

“I think they’re off to the winter fair,” Cassian said as the family passed them, and Nesta tilted her head to the side to look up at him.

“The fair?” she questioned, her voice muffled from the scarf around her mouth.

“Every year, for a month after Solstice, Velaris hosts a winter fair. There’s usually food, games, music, sleigh rides…”

Nesta nodded along, indicating she had heard him. A small smile, hidden by her scarf, came across her face as she thought back to when she was younger, when her family was wealthy, and the fair would come to their village. She would run around excitedly, and Elain would chase after her. She’d play the kids version of horseshoes and try to win ribbons for her hair, and she’d ride the beautiful ponies again and again.

Time was much simpler then, she realized as she stared down at her hands before rubbing her stomach once more.

“Here’s the store,” Cassian announced and led her to the shop’s door, opening it for her and gesturing for her to enter. Nesta walked inside the small shop that was compact with various maternity dresses. She was relieved to find that no other customers were present in the store. Only the shopkeeper was there, standing behind the counter and smiling brightly up at them as they came inside.

Nesta strode over to one rack of dresses and began flipping through them, one after another, searching for ones that caught her eye. As she did so, she noticed Cassian going through the dresses on the rack opposite hers.

She paused her search and looked up at him. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“Looking for dresses for you,” he replied, still looking at the dresses.

“Why? I figured you would’ve just dropped me off and left to go to another store to buy cologne or something.”

Cassian stopped going through the dresses to look back over across the rack at her. “Is that your way of telling me to go buy cologne to cover up my supposed stench you always complain about?”

“Maybe,” she remarked as a small devious smile came across her face. But in reality, she didn’t mind Cassian’s scent...she only minded the fact that it was his scent.

“Well, I’d have to bring you along to shop for cologne to tell me which one actually covers up my stench,” he added as he resumed looking through the dresses.

Nesta went back to moving the dresses across the rack as she looked through each one. “But why are you shopping with me now?”

“I simply have an eye for picking out dresses,” he said as he grabbed the hanger holding a chartreuse-colored dress and pulled it off the rack to look at it more closely.

Nesta rolled her eyes after glancing at the dress he grabbed. “That is an ugly shade of green. If that’s your idea of a nice dress, then you are a blind bat.”

“Perhaps, I was searching for a color to match this unpleasant aspect of your personality,” he commented casually as he threw a playful grin her way.

Nesta narrowed her eyes but said nothing in return as she continued going through the clothing on the rack.

After Cassian hung the chartreuse dress back up, he looked over at her again. “No rebuttal?” he asked in a surprised tone.

“I’m too busy plotting the ways I could strangle you for such a comment,” she said casually.

“Sweetheart, if all you wanted to do was get your hands on me, all you have to do is ask,” he stated with a smug grin. “No strangling necessary.”

Nesta managed to not let a groan escape her lips. “Do you think if I wore this dress as I murdered you, your blood on it would be less noticeable?” she asked as she lifted up a crimson dress.

“Ha. Ha,” Cassian stated drily, the cocky grin disappearing from his face.

Instead, a smug smile appeared on Nesta’s face. She draped the crimson dress over her arm as she continued her search.

Eventually, she moved onto other racks, grabbing a few dresses that caught her eye and carried them in her arms. Cassian went to different racks and picked out some dresses as well.

Once Nesta was finished looking, she looked around to find Cassian. “I’m going to try these on,” she announced to him when she spotted him nearby.

Cassian immediately walked over to her. “Try these on too,” he instructed as he placed three dresses in her arms on top of her bundle of dresses.

The top dress was a black silk one that seemed sophisticated and elegant. She mostly wanted just simple, casual dresses. She couldn’t foresee a moment during her pregnancy where she would need a dress for a special occasion.

“I don’t think I’ll need this black one…” Nesta began to say. “It’s too...fancy.”

“Just try it on,” Cassian gently suggested. “You never know.”

Nesta simply nodded, not wanting to start a spat over this. It was a pretty dress. She wouldn’t mind simply trying it on.

The shopkeeper, clearly having heard their conversation, strode over to her and gathered the dresses from her arms, then led her over to one of the fitting rooms, shoving the curtain to the side and hanging up the dresses within the small room. “Let me know if you need any help,” the shopkeeper kindly offered before departing the room.

Shedding her winter coat, scarf and a shirt she borrowed from Cassian, Nesta tried on a simple, blue dress. Seeing that it fit nicely and comfortably, she took off the dress and went onto the next one.

As she was sliding on the crimson one, she heard Cassian’s voice call out to her. “Aren’t you going to come out?”

“Why?”

“So we can see how the dresses look like on you, sweetheart.”

His use of the nickname “sweetheart” still peeved her, but she was tired of trying to break that habit of his. Now all it did was make her heart yearn for the day someone would genuinely call her sweetheart.

But she wouldn’t dwell on it.

Because after all, in his words, he didn’t understand why her sisters loved her. So why yearn for something that would never come to be?

Nesta took a slow, calming breath as she stared in the mirror. Her stomach was bigger, and her breasts were much fuller. In her eyes, she was beginning to look and feel like an elephant.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Nesta yelled back to him.

As she twirled in front of the mirror to test the flow of the dress, she overheard the shopkeeper talking with Cassian.

“When is your baby due?” she heard the female voice say.

“In May,” Cassian replied kindly, and when she didn’t hear him correct the shopkeeper about their relationship, Nesta’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.

“You two will make such a cute family,” the shopkeeper said.

“I think so, too,” Cassian said, and Nesta just knew he was grinning mischievously as he said it.

Shoving the curtain to the side, she stormed out of the stall. “CASSIAN! I AM GOING TO MURDER YOU!” she shouted.

Cassian was clearly in the middle of throwing the shopkeeper a charming smile her way, but when Nesta appeared, he turned his face toward her and his mouth dropped slightly open.

“You’ve already killed me,” he breathed as he stared at her.

“Excuse me?” Nesta asked angrily and put her hands on her hips, not sure if she had heard him correctly.

“You look stunning in that dress,” he said, still staring at her as if he was completely mesmerized.

“Just because I’m pregnant and may feel unattractive doesn’t give you the right to tell me fake compliments,” she barked back at him.

“I’m not lying,” he said firmly and calmly, his eyes still gazing at her.

Nesta narrowed her eyes at him. Then with a huff, she turned around to head back into the changing room and immediately shuffled out of the crimson dress.

As she removed another dress from a hangar and slid it up over her body, she realized she never even reprimanded Cassian for his words that sent her out of her fitting room in the first place. She sighed with frustration.

“Show us the next dress!” she suddenly heard Cassian shout.

“No,” she hissed loudly as she looked at herself in the mirror.

“Will you at least show me the black dress I picked out?” Cassian pleaded.

“Not until you explain to the shopkeeper that we are not together,” Nesta requested through clenched teeth.

Nesta turned her attention toward the remaining dresses she had not tried on yet and looked for the black one Cassian chose. With its lacey sleeves and silky skirt, the dress was meant for a special occasion. Nesta was sure she wouldn’t be attending such an occasion anytime soon. What would she need a dress like this for?

“Well, we have been living together for four months,” Cassian pointed out, “But we are not a couple and I am not the father of her child,” she heard him explain.

Begrudgingly, Nesta slid on the black dress. Without even looking in the mirror, she stepped outside the changing room.

Cassian looked up at her and stared once again. “Alena, go ahead and charge this one to my account,” he said without taking his eyes off of Nesta.

“Yes, General,” the shopkeeper replied as she scuttled over to the register.

“What? You don’t need to do that,” Nesta remarked as she crossed her arms against her chest. “I’m never even going to have an occasion to wear this!”

“We’ll make sure there is one,” Cassian replied softly as he approached her. “You look beautiful,” he murmured as he pushed a strand of her hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear.

Nesta closed her eyes and took a deep breath as he did so.

He was entirely too close.

She turned on her heel and went back into the changing room.

She then proceeded to try on the other dresses she had gathered. Taking the ones she felt were comfortable and best flattered her growing figure, she made her way to the counter where the shopkeeper stood.

As Alena went through each dress and analyzed each price tag to calculate her total, Nesta turned her head back to find Cassian wandering aimlessly through the aisles of clothing. As if he felt her eyes upon him, he looked up at her and gave her a warm smile as he began to make his way toward her.

“I wish my boyfriend would look at me the way the General looks at you, let alone compliment me the way he does,” Alena whispered.

Nesta jerked her head back to face the shopkeeper. “Excuse me?”

Alena gave her a soft smile. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nesta sternly replied.

Alena just shrugged and smiled, then announced the total she owed right as Cassian appeared at her side.

“I’ll need my allowance to pay for this,” Nesta remarked as she turned her head to look at Cassian.

Looking at him turned out to be a mistake as she found him gazing warmly at her, still smiling. The look stirred something within her that made her instantly look away.

“Just charge them all to my account,” Cassian instructed to Alena.

Alena immediately shot a quick grin Nesta’s way as soon as he said it. Nesta let out a frustrated sigh. “You don’t need to take pity on me. Just pay for it with the allowance my sister gave you.”

“Consider it a late Solstice present,” Cassian replied nonchalantly.

Nesta let out another irritated sigh.

“Alena, we’ll be back to pick the dresses up at the end of the day,” Cassian quickly said before Nesta could say anything more.

Alena nodded in response, packing the dresses in a sack and stowing them behind the counter. Nesta looked back at Cassian with wide eyes. “The end of the day? Aren’t we flying back to the Mountains?”

“I thought you and the baby might be hungry?” Cassian said, searching her eyes to see if he was correct.

Alena shot another annoying grin her way upon hearing Cassian’s suggestion.

She wished she could say Cassian was wrong and get them out of this insufferable city as soon as possible.

But truthfully...she was starving. And she’d probably tear Cassian’s head off during the long flight back if she didn’t get some food in her.

He was so good at keeping her well-fed…

Nesta slowly nodded in response, then put her jacket on and her scarf around her neck. Before moving to wrap it around her face, she gave a pointed look to Alena. “If the High Lord or Lady know that I or Cassian was here today, I’ll have your head.”

“Nesta,” Cassian chided.

“Understood,” Alena simply stated without the slightest bit of fear.

Nesta, looking pleased, wrapped the scarf around her face as Cassian bid his goodbye to Alena, and they headed out of the store.

When they stepped outside, Nesta lifted up her hood to cover her head and heard Cassian sigh beside her.

“Have something to say?” she questioned him as he led the way down the sidewalk.

“You’re just...ridiculous,” Cassian said with an amused grin.

“Well, you’re insufferable,” Nesta replied.

“Liar,” he asserted. “If I was truly insufferable, you wouldn’t be standing next to me right now.”

“This pregnancy has made me much more emotional, and the mother in me doesn’t want a lonely bastard like you wandering the streets alone.”

“And the lies continue,” Cassian commented in an amused tone. “We both know that you relish in walking the city streets next to a dashing, attractive male.”

“If only there was one here to walk next to,” she shot back with an amused grin.

Cassian winced. “I walked right into that insult.”

“Indeed,” Nesta confirmed. “Where are we going?”

“There’s a few restaurants at the end of this street that we can pick from.”

Nesta nodded as she turned her head toward the shop windows they were passing by. One was filled with kitchenware, another with unique and colorful jewelry and another with baby-related items.

“Let’s go inside and take a look,” Cassian suddenly announced. He must’ve caught her staring at the baby toys through the window as they walked. He grabbed her hand and whisked her into the store.

And despite the sudden action, all she could focus on was the feel of Cassian’s hand in hers. How his grasp was firm and tight around it.

She nearly squeezed his hand, but stopped herself when she remembered the powers that once flowed from her hands. She instantly let go of him, and he followed suit.

Looking up, she found themselves surrounded by racks and shelves of various items for babies, like clothing, bottles, carriages, and more.

Strolling up to one of the racks, she stared at the colorful clothing and kept leisurely walking along the aisle until she reached the stuffed toys.

It didn’t feel real.

To be looking at baby clothing and toys and various supplies for taking care of a baby, knowing that in five months’ time, she’d be cradling a baby in her arms, using all the various items that currently surrounded her.

She took a deep breath. How in the world she could possibly be ready for that sort of life?

“Nesta…” Cassian began hesitantly from his spot near a rack of baby clothing. “Is there a chance the child could...have wings?”

Nesta perked her head up to look over at him. He wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he was staring down at a piece of clothing he held in his hands.

“Yes,” she answered hesitantly as she thought back to the times she slept with an Illyrian to spite Cassian.

Cassian’s wings seemed to sag out of sadness as he looked back at her. “I wasn’t sure if we’d need to find clothes to accommodate wings,” he revealed quietly.

We.

Even though Cassian had told her he’d be there for her and help her with this raising this child, she still felt shocked every time he alluded to helping her and the baby.

She nodded back at him, then turned back to the shelves of various rattles and toys. She couldn’t handle thinking about her child potentially having wings right now. There were too many other things to worry about.

As she strolled along, she came across a few wooden cribs.

A crib. She would need a crib.

Let alone a room for the baby.

And a home.

Would she really live with Cassian, at least until her year deemed by Feyre was up? Would he even still want her living under the same roof once she had the child?

Nesta took a deep breath and grabbed hold of one of the wooden crib’s railings to lean against it and closed her eyes.

She wasn’t sure how she would ever get used to the idea of having a child. Being thrown into a world she did not know and did not care for and now had to raise a child within it...It was overwhelming.

Suddenly, she felt a warm hand press against her shoulder. “Nesta, are you alright?” Cassian asked. “What’s wrong?”

Nesta opened her eyes and turned to look at him. “It’s nothing,” she replied. “I’m just...hungry.” It may not have been the real reason why she was feeling distressed, but she was still feeling famished.

“Let’s go eat then,” Cassian stated. “I was just thinking that maybe we could go eat at the fair?”

“Okay,” Nesta softly said as her childhood memories of the fair flooded back to her. Perhaps the fair would be a good distraction for her...

She turned her whole body around to begin walking alongside Cassian toward the exit.

As they wandered along the sidewalk toward the fair, more and more fae populated the streets. It seemed like everyone was heading to the fair.

And there were families. Many, many families.

When they stepped through the fair’s gates, Nesta felt like all she could see were the many children roaming about. Nothing else.

But her focus was broken when she felt a hand press upon the center of her back. She tilted her head up to find Cassian giving her a brief smile before turning his head forward to continue guiding her with him to one of the many food stands.

Did he really look at her in a special way, as the shopkeeper had suggested?

He certainly took care of her...but that was out of honor toward his mother. That’s all it was.

Nothing more.

“Sit here to rest your feet,” Cassian suddenly stated as he stopped by a bench and gestured for her to sit down. “I’ll get us some food.”

Nesta simply nodded before taking a seat as Cassian wandered off to one of the nearby food stands. After he had cooked for her for the past few months, she figured he would know what food she would like. Plus, her feet were starting to feel a bit sore.

How did he seem to always know what she needed before she even fully realized it herself?

Choosing not to dwell on it, she turned her attention back to the event surrounding her. As she scanned the area, her eyes landed on the sleigh rides that were happening near the edge of the Sidra. The sleighs glided along a pathway amongst the various trees and twinkling lights and were led by a magical creature that was similar to a horse.

One of the few pleasant memories she had of her mother was riding in a sleigh led by a horse with her when she was very young that led them through the village and ended at a pond where they went ice skating.

At that moment, she saw a young girl excitedly hop into a sleigh with an older female who she assumed was her mother.

Is this how her relationship with her children would be? Would they go to fairs together and ride a sleigh or carriage? Would they come here to celebrate Solstice?

Even though she certainly was not fond of Velaris, would she need to put those feelings aside to best raise her child?

Which brought her back to wondering what would happen after the birth and her year in the Illyrian mountains was up. Where would she go? Would she even be allowed to stay in the mountains?

Would she even want to stay there, with the way they treated females and children?

The thought brought back the memory of the other day when she walked around Windhaven and found very young Illyrians training. When one boy was scratched on the arm by another boy’s dagger and it hadn’t been tended to by the end of the session, she had decided to tend to it herself.

As everyone left the ring, the upset boy had dragged behind, looking very upset. She had approached him and ripped off a strip of Cassian’s shirt. The boy had eyed her warily, but when she gestured that she wanted to bandage his arm, he slowly stuck out his arm.

He was not a shy fellow and openly lamented that he hated learning how to fight and would rather learn how to be a healer and help bandage people up as she was doing herself.

Children shouldn’t even be learning how to fight at such a young age.

If she stayed in the Illyrian Mountains after the birth, would her child be pressured into fighting? Or would the Illyrians want nothing to do with her?

Cassian suddenly appeared beside her with an outstretched hand holding a skewer with pieces of meat on it. Nesta accepted it, and then stared at it within her hand.

She’d need to remove the scarf around her mouth to eat it. And there was an overwhelming amount of people around them. Plenty of chances that someone would recognize her as the High Lady’s sister.

Cassian eyed her curiously and was just opening his mouth to speak when Nesta interrupted him.

“Let’s go on a sleigh ride,” she quickly interjected before standing up abruptly and heading in the direction of the sleighs. She didn’t even wait for Cassian and simply assumed he was following after her.

The sleigh rides disappeared away from view when they went through a small, wooded forest. That would give her time to eat her food without the worries of being seen by someone.

When she reached the sleighs, she could sense Cassian right behind her. An attendant greeted the General and gestured for them to board the next sleigh.

Once they sat on the cushioned seat, Nesta still held out her skewer and just stared at it as the sleigh began to slide through the snow. Once it went behind the trees, Nesta yanked off her scarf and took a few bites of her food.

Cassian shook his head when she started eating. “And here I thought you just wanted to be alone with me.”

“Then you’re clearly delusional and should be checked out the next time I meet with the healer,” Nesta commented sternly before taking another bite.

Cassian gave her a concerned look. “How are you feeling? Is there a reason you need to see the healer?”

“Nothing besides the regular checkup,” she answered as she rubbed her stomach with her free hand. “As far as I can tell, everything seems fine.”

“And...how are you feeling otherwise?”

Nesta arched her eyebrow. “Otherwise?”

“How are you feeling...emotionally?”

“You mean, other than wanting to strangle you most of the time?”

Cassian smirked. “I mean, how are you feeling about the pregnancy?”

Nesta shrugged. “Fine.”

“You just seemed...troubled in the last shop,” he stated hesitantly.

“Well, I’m fine,” she said more harshly than she intended.

Cassian took a sharp breath and dropped his now empty skewer beside him. “I noticed you were looking at the cribs...” he began calmly. “It was supposed to be your Solstice present, but I haven’t finished it yet. I started to build a crib for the baby, so you don’t need to worry about buying one.”

Nesta perked her head up and stared straight at Cassian. “What?” she whispered.

“And I’ve started cleaning out my study, too, so we can turn it into the baby’s room.”

For a moment, Nesta felt like she couldn’t breathe. “You...you don’t need to do that. I’m sure your mother would be satisfied with you just providing -” she began.

“I’m not doing this for my mother,” he interjected as he stared into her eyes.

“Well, you certainly don’t need to do this because I’m Feyre’s sister!” she exclaimed.

“I’m not,” Cassian answered gently.

“Then why?”

“Because I care about you,” he revealed softly.

Nesta sat straight up and turned her face to look out at the trees they were passing and to avoid Cassian’s gaze. She put her empty skewer down on the seat. “I don’t understand why you would,” she revealed honestly.

“While you can be difficult most of the time,” he began, and Nesta could tell from the tone of his voice that he was probably smirking as he said it. “I’ve enjoyed living with you the past few months. And I think you have too.”

“I don’t know what makes you think that,” she replied sternly, but inside...she marveled at his care for her the past few months. She did not fully understand it nor felt deserving of it. But she was tremendously grateful.

“You’re telling me you haven’t enjoyed plotting how to handle the Illyrians together? Living together? Eating meals together? Spending today together?”

Nesta’s eyes fluttered closed, but she said nothing. To admit if she had enjoyed it...would be opening herself up to potential heartbreak. The males in her life seemed to always let her down. She should be detached from this.

Before...he wasn’t there for her.

But he’s here now, a voice inside her seemed to say.

“Even flying together?” he added.

“Not when you pretend to fall out of the sky!” she immediately shouted as she turned to face him.

“But otherwise, you enjoy it,” he said with a smug grin. He slid his hand across the seat cushion and stopped it beside her hand.

“I tolerate it,” she remarked.

Cassian still smiled but shook his head. “You’re a tough one to crack, Archeron.”

Nesta gave him the slightest smile before turning away to return to looking at the passing scenery.

“Did you know that you remind me of my mother?” he wondered aloud.

“I think we’ve already established that I am pregnant, and the baby’s father is not around to help take care of the baby, similar to your mother’s situation.”

“Well, yes, but there’s more to it than that,” he said. “I have only the vaguest memory of my mother spitting upon the boots of the Illyrian leaders when they took me away from her as soon as I could walk to bring me to Windhaven. She fought so hard to prevent me from going, they had to restrain her. Even though she’d been abandoned by my father and was alone and outcasted by her camp, she fought. I heard that even after they took me away, she tried everyday to convince the leaders to bring me back to her or to let her come to me. She was resilient and fearless...like you.”

Was that even true, with the way she acted only a few months ago? She certainly didn’t feel resilient and fearless. More like, just surviving and getting by so her child doesn’t experience what she went through with her father not caring about her well-being.

She didn’t dare voice these thoughts aloud to Cassian. Instead, she continued to focus her attention on the trees while keeping her face turned away from Cassian.

“You don’t have any other memories of your mother?” she wondered.

He shook his head. “No. I only have a few stories others have told me of her and some of her belongings the Illyrians allowed her to send to me before she died.”

“At least you have that,” Nesta said gently.

“Do you have any memories of your mother?”

“Only a few pleasant ones. I remember going on sleigh rides with her when the fair would come to town,” she stated. “She taught me how to braid my hair and would take me to buy dresses. Appearance meant everything to her. Actually, maintaining a high status was probably the most important thing to her. It was more important than taking care of us. So that’s what the servants were for.”

She never truly minded how her mother treated her and sisters. She still had a few pleasant memories of her...probably because she only spent a limited amount of time with her. She had clung tightly to her father’s love instead and felt like it was enough...until it proved to be her undoing.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he moved his hand so it rested on hers on the cushion.

Nesta shrugged. “So you were forced to begin training as soon as you could walk?”

Cassian nodded.

“That’s horrible,” she commented. “And that young boy I saw who was injured during training...he didn’t even want to train. He was forced.”

Cassian sighed. “Unfortunately, that’s how it is. A male that doesn’t train to be a warrior would be considered an embarrassment to the family and to the entire camp.”

“That is ridiculous.”

“I agree.”

She turned back to face Cassian. “You need to do something about it,” she firmly stated.

“I will,” he insisted. “But I have to go one step at a time with these fools. Right now, I’m focusing on allowing females to be trained.”

“But the children -” Nesta began to protest.

“I’ll take care of them,” he hurriedly cut in. “In time. Their fathers agree to the training and the females aren’t allowed to disobey them. It’ll take time to change their mindset.”

Nesta sighed as she pulled her hand out of Cassian’s grasp and crossed her arms against herself.

“And I can’t do that without your help,” Cassian added seriously.

“Well, obviously. Someone needs to be around to save you from being poisoned again,” Nesta remarked, desperately needing to avoid the heaviness of Cassian’s words.

“And luckily, you’re already an expert in that area,” Cassian commented and then he gave her the look again as he brought his hand up to her face to slide a strand of her hair behind her ear.

It was the second time he had done that that day, but this time she didn’t move. There was nowhere to run to, and she found herself staring intently right back at Cassian.

His hand lingered on her cheek. She wondered if his heart was rapidly beating just like hers.

The sleigh suddenly came to an abrupt halt, causing them both to look up and realize their sleigh ride had come to an end. Nesta gasped as the crowds were now back in view, and she realized she needed to put her scarf back on.

“Stay right there,” she ordered Cassian before he could start exiting the sleigh. “Don’t move.” At first, Cassian appeared confused, but when she began pulling her hood down to rewrap her scarf around the bottom half of her face all while hiding behind his hulking body, he understood and rolled his eyes.

After she brought her hood back up, she looked back up at him. “Okay, we can go now.”

Cassian stood up and stepped out of the sleigh. As soon as his feet planted on the snowy ground, he turned toward her to grab hold of her hand and help her down from the sleigh.

But as they started walking away from the sleigh, he did not let go.

And against her better judgment, she didn’t either.

________________________________________________________________

He had almost kissed her.

And he still wanted to kiss her.

But now she had that silly scarf around her face, blocking her lips from him.

For now, he’d simply have to settle for holding her hand as they made their way through the crowds. Shockingly, she had not yet let go of it yet.

And that was enough to put him in a state of bliss. The only disappointing thing happening at this moment was the fact they would have to head back to his cabin soon. It had been such an easy-going and pleasant day with her. And it had been so nice to see her walk soberly down the streets of Velaris. It helped dampen the memories of finding her drunk out of her mind, stumbling out of bars with other males.

But having those memories and seeing her now proved her resilience.

He wished he could tell her he was proud of her. He almost did...but held back, unsure of how she would take him making such a comment.

She already had been difficult when he simply told her she looked beautiful earlier that day. Then saying she was resilient and fearless like his mother seemed to make her uncomfortable too.

But she was still holding his hand, and that was something. He gave her hand a squeeze and briefly looked back at her...simply to look at her.

Of course, he could only really see her beautiful blue-gray eyes, making it hard to read her expression. He wished he could understand what she was feeling.

“How are you feeling?” he called back loudly.

“Tired,” she said rather sleepily.

He had forgotten about fatigue being a common aspect of pregnancy. While he wished his day with her out and about like this wouldn’t end, he knew they needed to head back. “Okay, we’ll go pick up your dresses and then fly back to the mountains.”

Nesta nodded in agreement as they exited the fairgrounds and began strolling down the bustling sidewalk toward the boutique they visited earlier. As they got closer, the sidewalk gradually became less populated, allowing them to actually walk beside each other.

“So, did you enjoy today, or was it really merely tolerable?” Cassian asked her with a grin.

“I enjoyed it,” she replied softly.

He could hardly believe what he was hearing. “Did you actually admit that you enjoyed spending the day with me?”

“Don’t expect it to ever happen again,” she replied firmly. Her eyes narrowed at him, but he could see a glint of amusement as well.

Cassian beamed at her and gave her hand a squeeze as he pulled open the door to the maternity shop. Unfortunately, he was forced to let go of her hand as he held open the door for her to enter, and he followed behind her.

As soon as they walked in, Alena saw them and immediately retrieved the sack with Nesta’s dresses. Nesta outstretched her hands to accept it.

Then Nesta went up behind Cassian to attach the bag to his back.

She may not have believed him, but she truly did look beautiful when she tried the dresses on that morning.

And she looked beautiful right now, even with the silly scarf and hood covering her face. At least he still had her mesmerizing eyes to look at.

“You better not pull one of your silly flying jokes and lose my dresses,” she demanded as they began to head out of the store.

“Believe me, sweetheart. There’s no way I’d risk losing the chance to see you in that black dress again.”

It may have sounded like he said it in jest, but it was true. She had looked stunning in it.

They bid their goodbyes to Alena as they exited the store. Once they stepped outside, Nesta approached him, likely expecting him to pick her up to soar back to the mountains.

But there was...still one thing that nagged at him all day. That guilty feeling that he was being disloyal to his High Lord and Lady.

Maybe, just maybe, Nesta would possibly reconsider.

Cassian stared at her as she stood before him expectantly. To her surprise, Cassian grabbed both of her hands within his own.

He took a deep breath.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk to Feyre? She could help you.”

But as soon as he said Feyre’s name, Nesta froze and her hands went limp within his grasp.

“I told you,” she began in a deathly quiet voice. “That I didn’t want her to know, and I certainly don’t want to go talk to her,” she stated angrily before yanking her hands out of Cassian’s grasp and pulling her scarf down past her mouth. “Have you forgotten why I’ve been wearing this scarf all day?”

Cassian ran a hand through his hair. “Nesta, I know. But you should talk to her. Her studio is just around the corner.”

Nesta’s eyes suddenly widened, and he was unable to read the expression that came across her face.

“Her studio is just around THE CORNER?!” she reconfirmed, her voice rising with every word.

“Nesta, please - ”

“Was this just the plan all along?!” she cried out. “Convince me to go to Velaris, take me to a store right by my sister’s studio, buy me dresses and flatter me, then just get me to stay here longer to talk to Feyre at the end of the day?!” she exclaimed angrily. “Gods, I can’t even believe I actually thought you - UGH!”

“Nesta, no!” Cassian pleaded as he reached for her hands, but she kept them out of his reach, even going so far as to turn away from him. “I meant everything I said and did today,” he insisted. “There was no ulterior motive!”

“Please stop lying to me!” she pleaded softly.

“I am not lying!” he yelled back.

“I can’t even look at you!” she shouted as she crossed her arms against her chest.

“Nesta, please understand. While it’s hard for me to keep this a secret - ”

“It’s not your secret to tell!” she interjected.

“While it’s hard for me to keep this a secret and I do want you to talk to Feyre, it did not influence what I said and did today. I meant everything and I enjoyed each moment with you.”

Nesta took a long deep breath. He could only hope that his words were finally sinking into her.

“I don’t believe you, and I don’t care,” she suddenly said quietly. “I am not talking to my sister, so please just take me home.”

Her words stung.

It felt like a stab to the heart. After all their time together today...for it to conclude like this…

He thought they had come so far today, but now...were they really nearly back at square one?

“Nesta…” he said gently as he pressed a hand upon the back of her shoulder.

“TAKE. ME. HOME.” she ordered harshly. “And you can only touch me to carry me back,” she requested before quickly turning her body around, causing his hand to slide off her body.

While she was now facing in his direction, she kept her eyes glued to the floor and her arms crossed as she waited for him to pick her up.

It hurt so much to know that she didn’t believe him.

And it hurt so much to know that he hurt her.

Just like that, the elation he felt from his day with her was gone.

At a loss, he had no choice but to pick her up and hope she would cool off by they time they reached his cabin.

When he held her, she made no move to wrap her hands around his neck as she had done before.

While he’d been left feeling wounded by her words, he clung to one shred of hope: that she referred to his cabin as her home.

And he held onto that hope for their entire journey back.

________________________________________________________________

A/N: Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed that cuteness with a dose of angst...always gotta have a dose of angst! ;)

Let me know your thoughts! :)

---> CHAPTER 6

#nessian #nesta #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #a court of thorns and roses #a court of misty and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #far from the shallow #fanfiction #nessian fanfiction

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