#Cassian's miserable POV!

[flowerflamestars]

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Nesta Archeron/Eris Vanserra, Lucien Vanserra/Jurian/Vassa, Helion/The Lady of the Autumn Court (ACoTaR), Elain Archeron/Emerie Characters: Nesta Archeron, Gwyneth Berdara, Emerie (ACoTaR), Eris Vanserra, Lucien Vanserra, Jurian (ACoTaR), Merrill (ACoTaR), Clotho, Elain Archeron, Vanserra Brothers (ACoTaR), Beron, Keir (ACoTaR), Helion (ACoTaR), Rhysand (ACoTaR), Cassian (ACoTaR), Azriel (ACoTaR), Morrigan (ACoTaR) Additional Tags: Canon fucked around, time to find out, BAMF Women, Fake Marriage, Real Marriage, The Autumn Court (ACoTaR), Politics and Magic, Not canon's Eris, Not that Eris, Not Redemption Eris, Just a whole new Eris shaped man, Rituals, Valkyries, Political Alliances, Nesta really gets her own family, and life, Vanserra family feels Summary:

There were a hundred words, burning inside her, a thousand little brittle, pathetic, impassioned truths that Eris could have tasted had he tried.

Nesta had always, her entire life, known she would marry and wished for an equal.

Wished to never, ever, be trapped again and chose instead the walls she’d allow contain her. Nesta had absorbed, in the time of a single dance, just an echo of the rage and purpose that lived in Eris.

And wanted it.

Known it, as the same brutal thing that had kept her alive.

[starlightandsouls]

Hand In Hand, We Live

A/N: I cannot seem to get off the fluff train you guys, all the sweetness is rotting my brain. I hope you like this small thing. Do let me know what you think of my writing. Please please comment, it keeps me going

Takes place in the 1+1=4 universe but can be read as a standalone

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Azriel POV...

There had been few things in his long, long life that had been able to bring Velaris’s infamous Shadowsinger to tears. His ruthless attitude and stoicism was what made Azriel so good at his job. There were few people who saw through that mask of his; his brothers, his mother. But even they were always kept at a distance. Then, you came into his life. And oh so slowly you began to chip away that cold exterior of his until he surrendered his heart to you completely.

And just when he had thought his life couldn’t possibly get any better, the Mother had blessed the two of them with twin children, Mikhail and Annalise, their little miracles. Not only because of how rare it was for Fae to conceive, but also because of the hardships they had faced afterwards, mainly Beron and his plotting, miserable ass. Thankfully, that pig had been disposed off soon after. With Eris as High Lord and his alliance with Rhysand, Azriel was assured that their children would grow up in a somewhat safer world.

Their little blessings were almost two years old now, the darlings of not only their parents but also of the entire Inner Circle. Therefore, they were no less spoilt. Like today, Mikhail has been whisked off with Cassian and Rhysand. The two of them often kidnapped their children to buy them more toys than they had space to keep. Anna, however, had been a little moody today, unwilling to go with the uncles she usually doted on. Like her father, she was often overwhelmed with people and needed time to recharge. Since he had nothing to do for the day, he had stayed home with his daughter, even sending you off for some shopping with Feyre and Nesta, knowing you also deserved some time to relax.

Now, as we return to the matter at hand, Azriel rarely cried. The last time he remembered crying was at his mating ceremony and then when his precious children were born. The most recent case of tears, it seemed, would take place today.

After bathing her and feeding her, he had taken her to his room to try and get her to sleep. His little angel seemed particularly restless today. So now Azriel was sitting against the headboard in bed, with his knees pulled up and Anna's back resting against them. No matter, how much time passed he was still amazed by his children, unable to believe that someone like him would be blessed by such perfect miracles. Every time he held Mikhail or looked into Anna’s eyes he teared up.

As he cooed at Anna’s babbles, he tickled her tummy which caused her to erupt into a fit of giggles, the sound more beautiful to him than any symphony ever could be. As he laughed along her, Anna grabbed his hand in hers. The sight made his breath catch. Anytime he saw his marred hands against her smooth, soft skin, he felt like collapsing. The memory of what he had done his entire life resurfaced as he held such innocent children in his arms.

He’s pulled back from his memories as Anna ran her hand across the scars and ridges that riddled his hands; the hideous sight not deterring her one bit. She pulled his hand up with both of hers, turning it over as if seeing it for the first time. Completing her inspection, she put his hand up against her face and rested her hand against his palm, all the time smiling up at him.

Her glistening hazel eyes, mirroring his own, gazing up at him with that gorgeous smile of hers, was enough to bring Azriel to tears. His heart had never felt as full as it did now. He had hated his hands his entire life, finding them too ugly, too sinful to ever accept. Regardless of what his family and his mate had worked to reassure him over the long time he had known them, Azriel still harboured some resentment for his burnt hands. But in this moment, he could swear he had never loved them more than he did now, with his daughter resting against them.

Seeing her father’s tears rolling freely down his face, Anna flicked her head to the side, trying to figure out what was ailing her dad. Being unable to understand, she took matters into her own hands, and crawled over on her father’s chest. Reaching him, she wiped her tiny hands on his face, rubbing away any tears left. Anna then once again smiled up at him, feeling proud of her work. Azriel only shook his head, and pulled her against his chest.

You had come home to find both father and daughter snuggled up together, fast asleep. And when Mikhail returned, the two of you joined them as well. With his family in his arms, what more could Azriel want.

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The next time little Anna made her father cry was when she had turned eight. Even still so young, both his children were exceptionally bright, a fact he took much pride in. Both had their own hobbies that they loved partaking in.

They were currently at the House of Wind, visiting Nesta and Cassian. Mikhail was off play wrestling with Cass while Anna was busy being doted on by her Aunts. Just as he was about to go find Rhysand, Anna ran over to where he was sitting and jumped to his lap.

“Dada I made you something,” Annalise said, gazing up at him with her big, doe eyes, her sweet smile adorning her face.

“Did you, my little star?” he offered in return. Anna nodded her head as she went on,

“I made them with Auntie Gwyn.”

From the pocket of her jacket, she then procures two friendship bracelets. Both of them were identical, consisting of blue (presumably for his siphons) and pink, which was Annalise’s favourite colour. She took his hand in his and tied it around his wrist, putting her own on as well.

Anna then took his hand and put it side by side with hers, admiring her work.

“See, Dada. Now we’re the same,” his little angel said, as if the most obvious thing in the world.

Azriel only wiped away his tears and gave his Anna a reassuring smile,

And the simple statement from his innocent, brilliant daughter was enough to bring tears to his eyes. It was shocking to Azriel how his children found his scars to be as much a part of him as anything else, never finding them hideous or scary. It was true as well. Little Anna had never found them ugly at all. And there was a simple reason for it as well; to her they were just her father’s hands. The same hands which would comfort her during a thunderstorm, the same hands which taught her how to walk and then fly, the same hands that helped her tickle her brother whenever they all sat together. Deep down she knew, even then, that those hands would be the first to catch her whenever she would stumble in life.

“Yes, darling. We’re the same.”

From that day onwards, Azriel wore that bracelet that his daughter made for him every single day. To trainings to meetings to dinners to missions. It was a reminder of his family that waited for him at home, of his daughter who he loved more than his own life. It was a rather disconcerting sight; seeing the feared Shadowsinger wear around a pink bracelet. But the few idiots who had ever questioned him about it, now warned everyone else. Because no one made fun of his daughter’s work and got away with it.

So Azriel continued wearing it, often taking it to Gwyn for repairs when the threads started to fray, because he trusted no one but the expert with this precious item. Seeing it on his wrist everyday would remind him of the unconditional love his children had for him, and the eternal devotion he had to them. Anna and Mikhail taking his hand in theirs for comfort made him slowly let go of his resentment of his scars. Hand in hand, he learned to love and accept them, forever grateful for you and their children for teaching him that everyone deserved to be loved; even the scarred and broken.

[c-e-d-dreamer]

But I'm Only Looking At You: Part Three

A/N: And we're back for part three of Regency Cassian! And this time, we're switching up POVs because nothing says the theme of Illyrian for @cassianappreciationweek quite like... gestures vaguely... ya know? Also, we're getting angsty, but I hope everyone still enjoys :)

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

Nesta hates Cassian MacLeod.

She hates him with every fiber of her being. Hates him until her blood boils and blazes, and she can grasp onto that feeling and hold tight to it.

She hates his idiocy and the entire mess that he’s caused over the last week. She hates the looks that were on her sisters’ faces when they finally got home after Cassian had burst in, the way that Elain had cried. She hates the damning, shunning words her mother had berated her with before the wedding, and that those words are his fault.

She hates the forlorn and pleading expression he’s been wearing for days now, staring at her from across the carriage. She hates the way his hand keeps reaching out between them, fingers curling in the skirts of her dress like he’s worried she’ll disappear on him if he doesn’t hold tight enough. She hates the relief that flooded through her when he came striding through those church doors.

She hates that she doesn’t think she could ever hate Cassian a day in her life.

After their argument at the first coaching inn, the rest of the journey to Glasgow is tense and awkward. Each day they ride in the carriage, barely speaking to one another, and each evening they stop at a coaching inn, Cassian opting to sleep on the floor and allowing her the bed.

Nesta never thought there would be a day where she missed his teasing. Missed his Scottish drawl calling her sweetheart. Missed the warm, deep rumble of his laughter. But each night she lies in the bed staring at the wall through the dark, her arms curled tightly around herself to fight off the chill. His name stays lodged firmly in the back of her throat, desperate to escape, but then she’ll think of her sisters back in London, think of how they must be struggling with the consequences of the Archeron name being thoroughly ruined, and she grasps back onto that anger all over again.

When they finally reach Glasgow, Nesta feels particularly exhausted, but as the carriage pulls around a bend, she finds herself perking up. She had known that Cassian had money, that despite what her mother and the other mothers of London whispered and gossiped, the MacLeods had made a name for themselves with their factories in the north. It was why Cassian had attended the boarding school with the other boys in the first place, but actually seeing the manor that he calls home almost has Nesta gaping.

The beige stonework of the exterior is gorgeous, lines of windows spaced amongst the patterned stone and bay windows protruding from both wings of the manor. Five wide steps lead up to a large, white front door, a crest seemingly carved into the stone just above it. With the line of trees and what promises to be a sprawling garden just behind, it paints a picture perfect backdrop.

The carriage pulls to a stop, and one of the footmen pulls open the door, Cassian climbing out first before he turns back and offers Nesta a hand. She’s still staring up at the manor as she settles her hand in his and steps down from the carriage.

“Do you like it?” Cassian asks, his eyes pinned on Nesta and her reaction, his tone almost nervous.

“I’m beginning to think you undersold your manor in your letters,” Nesta comments, her eyes still flitting around. “You always described it as being so miserable here.”

“It was.”

Something in Cassian’s tone, in the unspoken words hanging in the breeze between them, has Nesta turning her head. There’s a longing swimming amongst the golds and greens of his hazel eyes, enough that Nesta’s breath hitches in her lungs and she has to look away again. She swallows hard and continues forward toward the front steps of the manor, desperate for a distraction from everything left unsaid between them, from the electricity that sparks in that space, from the way her traitorous heart skipped over itself.

The front door is pulled open as soon as Nesta gets close to it, so she steps inside, taking a moment to admire the high ceilings of the hall. A large, central staircase takes up the majority of the space, but Nesta notes the fresh flowers that have been arranged on the tables lining the walls.

“Mrs Reynolds,” Cassian greets the woman standing just inside the hall, stepping inside behind Nesta and settling a gentle hand on the small of her back. “I trust all has been well while I was away.”

“Of course, sir,” Mrs Reynolds responds, dipping into a polite curtsy before her eyes glance toward Nesta quickly. “The staff has ensured that everything is prepared to welcome the new mistress of the house.”

“Perfect. Please inform Michael to begin preparing dinner while I give Nesta the tour.”

With another curtsy to them both, Mrs Reynolds vanishes deeper into the manor. Cassian clears his throat and steps away from Nesta, drifting over toward the left side of the hall. He pushes a hand up and through his hair, the gesture almost nervous.

“You can change anything you’d like,” Cassian explains. “I’ll admit I’ve just sort of left things how my father had them, but if anything isn’t to your taste or…” He clears his throat again, and swings open the doors in front of him. “But this is the drawing room, and through that door there is my study. And just through there leads to the conservatory that overlooks the gardens.”

Nesta nods in understanding and steps closer, her gaze sweeping over the different furnishings, the piano tucked in the corner by the windows, the sofas arranged around the large fireplace. She sidesteps around Cassian to peer into his study next, taking in the desk and books stacked neatly into the shelves just behind it. When she turns back toward Cassian, looking at him expectantly, he crosses to the other side of the hall, opening the other set of doors.

“And this is the dining room, which connects back to the breakfast room, and the conservatory too actually. Since the hall just wraps around.” When Nesta doesn’t say anything and merely nods her head again, Cassian makes his way up the stairs, pausing at the top and gesturing to his left. “The west wing has three bedrooms, mostly used for guests, but this way…”

A few steps down the hallway leading to the east wing and Cassian pauses, pushing open a set of double doors. There’s no stopping the gasp that tears free from Nesta’s chest, her feet moving of their own accord as she steps inside. A sofa and two comfortable looking armchairs are arranged around a tea table near the fireplace, and she realizes that one of the bay windows she had seen from outside is in fact a window seat. But every other spare inch of space along the walls is lined with dark colored oak shelves, climbing all the way up to the ceiling, and each one of them is filled with books.

“I had a feeling this would be your favorite room,” Cassian chuckles quietly behind her.

Nesta walks over to the closest shelf, running her fingers along the different spines. She can already hear the whispers of the stories and characters waiting just beneath, and she takes a moment to close her eyes and breathe deeply, the scent of parchment and dried ink filling her senses in the most comforting way. When she opens her eyes again, she examines Cassian’s collection, tiling her head so she can read the different titles displayed.

“You have quite the Sellyn Drake collection.”

“You told me he was your favorite writer, so I made sure I had every book of his that’s been published.”

Nesta nearly jumps out of her skin at how close his voice is. She hadn’t heard him walk closer to her. She chances a glance to where he’s now leaning against the shelves beside her, where he’s watching her intently. Of course, her heart once again decides to betray her, thundering between her ribs at his closeness, at that damned look in his eyes, at his explanation. Her bottom lip finds home between her teeth, and she looks away again, focusing instead on tracing the letters of a title with her index finger.

“I don’t recall telling you that,” Nesta says, pulling one of the books out and flipping through the pages just to give her hands something to do.

“You were in the market square, and I followed you into the bookshop.”

“I suppose that does sound right. You always like to bother me.”

“I asked you who your favorite writer was, so I might purchase a book for you, and you told me that you didn’t need a gentleman to buy you your books.”

“Clearly you didn’t listen.”

“And when I insisted, you finally informed me that Sellyn Drake was your favorite.”

“How do you know I didn’t just say that to see the shop owner’s face when you purchased a Sellyn Drake novel? It was quite priceless as I recall.”

“Then who is your favorite writer? Tell me, and I’ll have the books in this library remedied immediately.”

He says the words with such ease, such conviction, that Nesta finds herself frowning in confusion. “Why?”

That look takes over his face again, that soft pleading look. “You already know the answer to that question, Nes.”

“Because I’m the lady of the house now?”

“If that’s the lie you want us to tell ourselves…”

Nesta closes the book in her hands with a clap that echoes in the otherwise quiet library, hugging the book tight to her chest. “Do you intend to finish your tour?”

Cassian sighs softly but he nods, leading Nesta out of the library and continuing down the hall of the east wing. He stops in front of another set of doors, pulling them open and gesturing for Nesta to step inside. The room is spacious, a large, canopy bed taking up the majority of the space and windows that overlook the gardens lining the far wall.

“The dressing room is through the door on the left, the bathing chamber the one on the right,” Cassian explains, still hovering by the door. “You’ll have this room, and I’ll have one of the guest rooms made up for me.”

Nesta whips around at that. “We won’t be sharing?”

“Have you forgiven me yet?”

“No,” Nesta snaps automatically, earning a look from Cassian that clearly says she answered her own question. “And what happens when word reaches London that we are already sleeping separately? Barely a week into the honeymoon?”

“You don’t have to worry about that. My staff are good people. They won’t talk or spread gossip.”

“All servants talk.”

That infuriating, teasing smirk of his tugs across his lips, the first time Nesta’s seen that look in days. “If you want me in your bed, sweetheart, all you have to do is ask.”

“I want nothing from you,” Nesta corrects, tossing her book onto the bed and crossing her arms across her chest, matching his stance. “But you have already ruined me and the Archeron name enough. I will not allow you to drive it further into the mud.”

Cassian’s smile drops away, a flicker of regret crossing his expression as he turns his face away from her. “You know that wasn’t my intention.”

“Yes,” Nesta drawls dryly, rolling her eyes. “We all know your intentions with your stupid, selfish act.”

“Selfish…” Cassian scoffs, shaking his head. “Because what more could I possibly want than you hating me.”

The conversation is teetering dangerously toward things they’ve yet to discuss, and though Nesta already knows, has already seen the truth that Cassian has worn so plainly on his sleeve since the House Party, since the wedding, it’s waters Nesta is not quite ready to dip her toe into. It’s secrets she’s not quite ready to share. So she drops her gaze away from Cassian, fiddling with the sleeve of her dress and a loose thread there instead.

“I’m tired. We’ve been traveling for days. Can you send some lady’s maids to tend to me?”

Cassian sighs, but he thankfully doesn’t comment on the change in subject. “You haven’t had any dinner yet.”

“I’m fine,” Nesta dismisses easily with a shrug.

“You’ve barely eaten the past few days.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“We’re married now, remember? Is that not what husbands do? Is that not my right now?”

Nesta storms across the room to him, her rage practically palpable the way it thrums through her veins, the way it thunders in her ears. She doesn’t stop until she’s right in front of him, scowling up at him with narrowed eyes as she seethes, “do it, then. I dare you.”

She expects Cassian to step away from her, perhaps even to match her anger, but she doesn’t expect him to smile down at her. “There she is. You want to play, Nes?”

“Gods, you are insufferable!”

“Better to have you yelling at me than the gods-damned silence you’ve been putting me through! Fight with me. Throw something at me. I don’t care. I can take it.”

They both stand there, toe to toe, their chests heaving and twin flames blazing in their gazes. Nesta swears she can hear both their hearts thundering to the same beat. Swears some thread goes taut between them as the air crackles and sparks. It squeezes and tightens around her heart, threatening to burst it, threatening to tug it clean out of her chest.

She tries to grapple for her anger again, for her hatred, before it slips through her fingers like wisps of smoke. Damn this man and the way he’s never backed down from her. The way he’s always relished in her fire rather than trying to douse it. The way he’s torn down her every wall, her every defense, from the moment she met him.

It has Nesta breaking first, turning away from him and hugging her arms around herself like that will hold in the ache that’s started to throb between her ribs. “Are you calling some lady’s maids or not?”

“Fine,” Cassian mutters, his voice almost defeated.

Nesta waits until his retreating footsteps finally fade before letting out a soft sigh. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long before two lady’s maids step inside the room. They help her to bathe, to wash away all of the grime that comes from days of traveling before helping her prepare for bed. When they leave again with a polite curtsy, the bedroom doors closing behind them with a soft snick, Nesta slips beneath the cool, silk sheets and the soft blankets of the bed.

She lays there against the pillows, eyes glued on the windows and the gardens beyond. She watches the sky as it shifts from golden hues to deep purples, watches until the inky darkness of night swallows everything whole and plunges the bedroom around her into shadows too. Despite the exhaustion still weighing heavy in her limbs, sleep stays firmly out of Nesta’s reach. It doesn’t help that her mind can’t seem to stop racing, churning like the sea waves during a storm.

All she can think about is Cassian, practically seeing his face every time she tries to close her eyes. She can’t help but think back to her eighteenth birthday, one of the last times she saw him before he finished school and returned to Glasgow. Her mother had thrown her an extravagant party in the ballroom of their home to celebrate. Mama had claimed it was strictly to honor her, but Nesta had known better. It was a way to show off to the other society ladies. It was a way for Mama to begin her grand plan of securing Nesta a suitable match.

It had all been so much, the music, the people, all the conversations Mama had roped her into. And yet somehow Cassian had seen right through her plastered smiles, had known exactly what she needed. He’d grabbed her hand and whisked her away before anyone could see. Nesta doesn’t think she’ll ever forget those few blissful moments of peace they’d stolen away, hidden out of sight in the pantry, Nesta sitting on an overturned crate so as to not get dirt on her dress.

He had given her her birthday gift then, a first edition book she loved, the writer’s script penned on the first page. It was so thoughtful. The whole night had been so thoughtful that Nesta had realized it then. In that small space with Cassian smiling softly at her, with his hazel eyes still glinting even in the low light, Nesta had realized that she had feelings for him.

That she loved him.

Nesta can feel the hot sting of tears beginning to prickle the back of her eyes, so she turns and presses her face into her pillow, trying to stifle them. Her whole chest feels raw and exposed, as though dark claws have carved into the space until it’s hollow, until nothing remains but bloodied ribbons and her bruised heart. She presses a trembling hand to her mouth, the cool metal of her wedding band catching on her lips. It just makes the emotions raging through her worse, and Nesta pulls the blankets up higher over her shoulders, curls in tighter to herself.

She’s not sure how much time passes, how long she lays there, before she hears the soft sound of the door opening, the shuffle of feet around the room. She doesn’t move from her spot, stays perfectly still as she listens to Cassian unwind and prepare to sleep. She can feel the blankets shift as he tugs them down on the other end of the bed, but then he pauses. He hesitates. And Nesta has to squeeze her eyes shut, that ache in her chest giving a stuttering throb.

Finally, the mattress dips behind her, Cassian slipping into the bed and shifting until he’s comfortable. It takes everything within Nesta to keep breathing steady, not to release the sigh of relief clogging her throat.

“Nes,” Cassian whispers, his fingertips feather light as they skate along her spine. “Are you awake?”

The seconds of silence tick by, Nesta keeping her lips firmly pressed together. She expects Cassian to pull his hand back, but instead, his fingers curl into the fabric of her shift, the same way they’d curled into her skirts in the carriage. She wants to hate how much she finds the gesture grounding, comforting.

“I just wish you’d understand that I did it for you.”

~ * * * ~

Nesta wakes to an empty bed.

Gray, muddled light pours into the room through the windows, the heavy overcast clouds clinging to the sky outside promising a whole day of rain. Nesta takes a moment to just lay there, to watch the droplets of water that splatter onto the window pane before sliding against the glass in racing streaks.

When her stomach starts to twinge and groan, she finally heaves herself up and out of bed. She takes the time to braid and pin her hair back, opting for one of her more simple dresses. She heads down the stairs and to the breakfast room, Cassian already dressed and sitting inside at the table. He has a stack of papers he seems to be reviewing in his hands, but he looks up at the sound of Nesta’s footsteps, his gaze following her the whole way as she takes the seat at the opposite end of the table.

“Good morning,” Cassian offers quietly, setting down his papers. “Did you sleep alright?”

“Yes, fine,” Nesta assures him, accepting the tea that’s placed in front of her with a quiet thanks.

Silence settles in the room and between them, so Nesta focuses on buttering a piece of toast. She can feel Cassian’s gaze on her, watching her, analyzing her in that way he always does, but she keeps her own eyes down, intent on tearing her toast into small pieces aimlessly. With each passing second, Nesta can feel her frustration beginning to grow, small fires beginning to spark and simmer. She can feel the cool, snapped words poised and ready on the tip of her tongue, but before she can release them, Cassian clears his throat, drawing her attention back to him.

“I have to go check on the factories today,” Cassian begins, pushing a hand up and through his hair almost nervously. “Would you like to join me?”

“Hardly the place for a lady, don’t you think?” Nesta comments, picking up her tea and taking a sip.

“Maybe so, but they’re just as much yours as they are mine now.”

“It’s not proper.”

Cassian sighs, but thankfully he doesn’t push her. “Will you be alright then? On your own for the day?”

“I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry.”

“I’ll always worry about you.”

He says the words so seriously, not a hint of that teasing tone of his. Says them so matter-of-factly. Says them with that soft pleading look burning amongst the greens and golds of his eyes. It has the vines twisting tighter around Nesta’s heart, has her swallowing hard around the lump threatening to press into her throat.

Nesta straightens her spine and raises her chin, meeting Cassian’s gaze head on. “I want to write to my sisters.”

The smallest hint of a frown starts to tug down the corner of his lips, but Cassian nods. “You’ll find everything you should need in my study. Just give the letter to Mrs Reynolds. She’ll make sure it’s delivered.”

As though speaking her name has brought her into existence, Mrs Reynolds steps into the room, dipping into a polite curtsy. “The carriage is ready, sir.”

With another nod, Cassian stands up from his seat. He takes a step closer to Nesta, his lips parting as though he wants to say more, hand reaching out like he wants to do more, but once again, he hesitates, his hand outstretched awkwardly between them. He purses his lips, giving the smallest shake of his head and drops his hand back to his side, turning and heading for the door.

Nesta tries not to let it sting when he doesn’t offer any sort of goodbye, tries to remind herself that she’s just as much to blame for this tension roaring between them, but it leaves her feeling cold all the same. She turns back to her breakfast, but suddenly, she doesn’t have much of an appetite anymore.

With a sigh, she pushes up from her seat, striding out of the breakfast room. She crosses the front hall and opens the door to Cassian’s study, stepping inside. It’s surprisingly neat. A large, oak desk takes up most of the space, two chairs set before it and another chair and small bookcase set behind it. The leather bound books and ledgers on the shelves are all arranged in ordered rows, papers and more books organized in stacks on the desk.

She settles into the chair behind the desk, finding a pen already waiting for her. She turns her attention to the drawers next, in search of paper, leaning over and trying the largest bottom drawer first. She’s surprised to find the drawer stuffed full with paper, but they’re not blank. It’s letters.

It’s her letters.

Three years worth of letters, all folded and gathered together in this drawer. She can’t believe he kept all of them. She still remembers writing all those letters, telling him about her family, about her days, all her thoughts and opinions that she knew Cassian would never balk from. She still remembers lying in her bed, the candle light burning low, reading over the words he wrote back to her over and over again.

Nesta closes the drawer quickly, unable to look at those letters anymore. Blessedly, the next drawer she tries has the blank paper she’s looking for. She gets to work writing out a letter to Elain and Feyre, informing them that she’s settled in Glasgow, asking for updates from them. She keeps her requests simple and polite in case her mother decides to open and read the letter first, keeps everything optimistic so as to not worry Elain or Feyre. When she’s satisfied, she signs her name and reaches for the wax, pausing once she picks up the seal. Her fingers trace over the raised metal, the MacLeod crest.

She supposes it’s her crest now too.

Her gaze dances back down to the ink of her signature on the page. She’d simply signed Nesta and nothing more. She chews at her bottom lip for a moment before huffing in frustration at herself, at her swirling thoughts. With a shake of her head, she quickly folds her letter and pours the wax, pressing the seal down with a newfound determination.

—

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[acourtofthought]

"Elain herself said she belongs in the Night Court"

You know who else tried convincing themselves they were "fine" or where they belonged?

Celeana when she was human and denying her birthright.

Rhys when he tried to convince himself that he could be happy as long as Feyre was happy marrying Tamlin (even though he explains it killed him inside).

Nesta when she claimed she wanted no part of Cassian or her sisters lives.

Rhys when he tried to hide his UTM trauma from his friends.

Elain when she says, “Why wouldn’t I be all right?” she asked, a smile lighting up her face." to Feyre and Feyre notes she's probably not all right.

Feyre trying to convince Tamlin she's fine and excited about the wedding.

The difference is, we got all the above characters POV to realize they were not in fact fine (or Feyre guessing Elain was hiding her true feelings). You know whose POV we haven't gotten? Elain's. Not to mention Cassian DOES question the validity of Elain's statement.

So excuse us Eluciens if we're a bit hesitant to believe Elain is truly "fine" and "belongs in the Night Court" just because she declares it to be so when there are too many things suggesting the opposite (see points below). Considering she'd make the best of her situation even if she wasn't fine. Considering she probably wouldn't feel comfortable admitting to herself and her sisters that she's not completely happy in their circle of friends since she's a bit of the odd man out.

Until we get Elain's POV, we reserve the right to consider the possibility that she's doing her best to be fine and fit in but she secretly desires more and in a place that is not the Night Court. Reading the book and thinking that everything is going to be spelled out on page for you in black and white instead of realizing what you see is not always what you get is a foolish way to approach an SJM novel.

Reasons why her "belonging" in the Night Court may not be as cut and dry as what Anti Eluciens think (and yeah, individually, maybe you could argue each point if it stood by itself but when grouped together it forms an undeniable pattern):

She's never sat in on any important political meeting, either with members of the IC or other High Lords.

"No matter how much she claimed to be part of this court"

"But wearing black",… "It sucked the life from her."

He knew the cruelty of the Hewn City troubled her (read - CRUELTY troubles her, not just the cruelty found in the Hewn City)

"Elain in black was ridiculous." <- and the color black is definitely a thing that symbolizes the NC.

"Nesta and I climbed inside one of the supply caravan’s covered wagons to change into Illyrian fighting leathers. Elain … She’d taken one look at us in the swaying grasses outside that wagon, the legs and assets on display, and turned crimson. Viviane stepped in, offering a Winter Court fashion that was far less scandalous: leather pants, but paired with a thigh-length blue surcoat, white fur trimming the collar. In the heat, it’d be miserable, but Elain was thankful enough that she didn’t complain"

When we emerged, Nesta even buckled a knife at her side....[Elain] refused the knife Cassian handed her, though. Went white as death at the sight of it.

But Elain had given it back—had pressed it into Azriel’s hands after the battle, just as he had pressed it into hers before. And then walked away without looking back.

He found Elain’s necklace amid the pile.

“Maybe you’ll become interesting at last, Elain.”

“And while I might never run to Elain first with problems or for advice, we had a peaceful amicable understanding. I found her to be a pleasant companion. I wonder if she’d resent that judgment. I certainly would.”

Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, “There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

"Where the hell was Elain?"

"But Elain … The Spring Court had been made for someone like her."

"Elain had always wanted to visit the continent" "But that was all the western edge of it. Beyond that, the continent was vast. And to the south, another continent sprawled. Would she have gone?"

[did-i-ever-ask]

Acotar x oc angst

This is part 2 for my previous story it’s gonna have angst and fluff

So it’s not gonna be perfect, cause english isn’t my first language and I didn’t proofread it hehe but lots of fun!

Part 1

For my friends pt.2

Cassian pov:

Hey Lilith I miss you. It has been so hard without you. So many wonderful and horrible things happened in the time you haven’t been with us. We already celebrated two winter solstice without you and we all missed you even more during that time.

Not a lot of time passed but so much happened. I am mated now, to Nesta whom I know you had mixed feelings about but I love her with all my heart. And you wouldn’t belobe it Rhys and Feyre are parents which makes you an aunt and I’m an uncle, you would’ve been the best aunt and we always tell him that Nyx their son is the most beautiful child ever.

Lilith I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I am so, so sorry and I don’t think I will ever forgive myself but thank you. I love y-

Someone slapped me on the head. No not someone, Nesta. „Eyyy“ I whine, she looks at me punishingly „Pay attention! Or you’re gonna fly us into a building!“ „Yea yea“, I mumble. But she is right I should be paying attention. We are on our way to the river house for dinner with everybody.

We arrived at the front door and I put Nesta down, she opened the door and we entered the house into the foyer. A grin spread over my face as I smelled the fragrances from the kitchen, to where Nesta was already heading and I followed her. I stopped in the doorway to the living room with connected kitchen and dinning room.

The picture that played before me made my heart clench. Amren was sitting in one of the armchairs sipping wine while Mor was sitting on the floor, playing with Nyx and Azriel was sitting next to them on the couch, watching Nyx not being able to stop laughing. Nesta joined her sisters in the kitchen, where she took the knife out of Feyre’s hand and continued her sisters work for her, only for their high lady to grab plates and head to the dining room with a content smile plastered on her libs.

I felt a pat on my shoulder and when I turned I saw my brother, Rhys, who was grinning at me, I grinned back and said, “What’s up, brother?” But he just grinned and joined his mate in the dinning room, and I finally moved away from the doorway to join my family that gained members but hadn’t quite felt complete in a while.

We were just settling at the dining table for dinner, as we heard knocking at the front door. A “Got it” came from Mor who headed to the entrance that wasn’t viable from where everybody sat. A surprised friendly “Oh, what brings you here” chirped from Mor, which was answered with an unclear mumble and two pairs of footsteps leading towards the dining room. Mor stepped into sight followed by…. Drakon. What was he doing here? With such a serious expression at that.

Rhys stood up pushing the chair back, looking Drakon in the eyes. I looked at Rhys as he paled and took quick steps at Drakon. Some unspoken conversation seemed to be happening. The Rhys turned around to face us, his mate, with a tense expression and an apologetic smile to Feyre, who walked up to him and gave him a gentle kiss to the cheek, “I’m needed in Cretea, don’t wait for me to eat. I’ll be back soon.” I stood up, silently offering my company but he only shook his head and with a final smile he winnowed away with Drakon to Cretea.

Lilith’s pov:

Everything was dark…nothing. Ah… I died. That’s right. So this is it? Everything was cold and it felt like I was floating in water only that I seemed to be able to breath. I couldn’t really feel anything, I felt numb, I couldn’t move however hard I tried. Will I stay like this forever? That would be miserable, wouldn’t it?

I was in a half sleeping State when everything literally tilted. I fell onto something hard… the ground? It was cold and very uncomfortable to sleep on. I think I’m wet or more like drenched in ….water? But I’m supposed to be dead right? I don’t think this is how death is supposed to be.

I heard something slamming but it was so far, far away and then there were confused, unfamiliar and hectic voices. And silence. That blissful silence was interrupted by two pairs of steps one lighter than the other, they came towards me. I want to see who they are but my eyelids are still so heavy. But then one of the touches me, a gentle hand touches my face. That action is followed by a gasp from a female and a surprised inhale by a male.

“Lilith?”, whispered the female. Yeah that’s my name. I know that voice it feels like a gentle stroke against my eyelids, telling me to open them. I followed that suggestion, forcing my eyelids to open just a tiny bit. I was met with blinding light which gave way to a fuzzy picture of two people. I recognize the deeply warm eyes of my old healer friend. I opened my mouth and squeezed a silent, almost inaudible “Mira?” out. Which was followed by her telling her mate, Drakon who is behind her, to get Rhysand. That made me a bit more conscious and I started to sit up when Drakon already had left the room.

Miryam looked back at me with a warm smile and teary eyes. She looked me up and down and said, “You must be freezing. Let’s get you changed and warm.” I hesitantly nodded. She takes my hand and helps me stand up, my legs are shaky but I manage to fully stand up. I look around the room we are in there are two guards at the exit and when I turn my head I see the Cauldron, the Cauldron I saw Feyre’s sisters disappear into. I turn to face Miryam who has a forced smile onto her face and I try to reassure her with a smile from me but it doesn’t seem to work very well. She gently pulls me into the hall.

We walked to somewhere, probably a room to change. And I was glad we did because I just noticed that I was soaked in the leathers I wore the time I took the attack. I can’t see Mira’s face because she is a step ahead of me, she is still holding my hand but I can feel that her and is shaking.

We enter a room, no not a room their room, Miryam and Drakon’s room. Mira let’s go of my hand and heads towards a closet. “Mira, are you alright?”, she froze in her tracks and turns around. There are theses streaming from her eyes. Ian stunned but I open my arms, offering my embrace. She took the offer, her small frame running towards me and almost tackling me as she hugs me so tight, one might confuse it with an attack. I hug her back and after a few moments she starts speaking.

“We arrived on the battlefield as soon as we could after we found out in what kind of trouble you guys were in. And everything worked out you- we won. But then Cassian told us what happened, what you did to protect him and that you died. And I- I couldn’t believe that… you our of all people had died. And now you are standing in front of me, perfectly fine expect of being soaked. Which makes me think, you should change.” wow…. I hugged Mira a bit tighter and let go when she did. She looked me in the eyes and after I gave her another reassuring smile she noises and turned on her heel and then disappeared into her closet.

I followed her, “ You probably know that but I have no idea how I am here.” I say, followed by my own giggle. She popped out of the closet, sweatshirt and leggings in hand. “ You are not the only one, and I am still thinking this might be a dream.”, she answered which I followed with a “same”. We looked each other in the eyes. And we started giggling. It doesn’t feel like we haven’t seen each other in a few hundred years or like I just came back from the dead.

She motioned me to a door and pressed the set of cloths with socks and underwear into my arms. “There isn’t time for a bath right now because Rhys is gonna me here any minute but fresh cloths should be enough for now”. At that I entered the room that was a very lavish bathroom. I put the cloths on the vanity and looked in the mirror. I looked the same expect my hair, it used to be shoulder length but it now reaches below my waist in straight light brown wet stands, I’m definitely going to cut it when I get back home. Then I start to change.

When I left the bathroom Miryam sat on the sofa a few feet from me. She motioned me to join her but before I reached her the door to the hallway opened. And there standing in the doorway were Drakon and Rhys. Oh Rhys my dear brother. He looked around the room, his gaze first landed in Miryam and then it slid to me. His eyes widened and his face paled as he stumbled backwards. I smiled at that, he looked like he had seen a ghost. Well, I guess in this case it might be true. I looked him in the eyes and smiled which didn’t seem to work as enough reassurance.

I opened my arms, copying my own actions from earlier when I offered my hug to Miryam. Rhysand stumbled a step towards me this time but then he shot towards me, so fast that it was hard to follow with my own eyes. The next thing I knew I was in the warm and firm arms of my brother, my dear friend whom I grew up with. He buried his face on my shoulder, hugging me so tight that I was a bit afraid that he would crack one of my ribs.

“Please tell me this is true, that you are really here.”, he mumbled into my hair. I nodded my head but that didn’t seem to be enough confirmation of my existence. “Yes”, I said, “ I am here, alive and well, in you arms being crushed by your heartwarming embrace.” I chuckled, I loved him so very much. He let go after my remark but he now cupped my face in his hands and made me look him in the eyes. His eyes were red and so focused as if he was trying to see through a not-existing glamour or spell.

He pulled me closer and put his lips to my forehead and gave me a light, cherishing kiss there. Now I was the one tearing up. I pushed him away lightly, turning my head away and wiping over my forehead with the back of my hand. “Rhys, this is so unlike you.” I knew that me face turned red and I now was wiping my tears away that had started to fall. He pulled me into another hug this time gentler, as if he finally realized that it was real.

This time I was the one who released themselves from the hug first. I looked up into his face and he was grinning at me. “ The others are going to be ecstatic, you will receive many mor bone crushing hugs.”, at that I laughed I guess a few more weren’t so bad. “We all missed you so very much.” “I hope you did, or else I would be insulted.”, I said jokingly with a half grin on my face. Rhys smiled back and we turned to Miryam and Drakon. “Thank you.”, Rhysand said, they smiled and Miryam said, “We didn’t have anything to do with it”, Rhys just smiled. I gave both Mira and Drakon a hug and promised to visit them soon.

When I finished my goodbyes, I turned back to Rhys. “Let’s go home.” He said as I took his hand, and we were off, winnowing back home. To my family.

I really didn’t think I was going to write another part, but part 3 is definitely necessary and coming! I hope you guys enjoyed this one, just like the first one!

[theladyofbloodshed]

Recovery - Part Two

Part two follows Cassian's steps to help Nesta on the road to recovery - all from Nesta's POV

With every visit to the various taverns scattered around Velaris, Nesta drank less and less. The drinks themselves were less pungent too. She opted for wine, sometimes only a tea. There were still feelings she tried to numb, others she tried to tempt back into existence. It had become routine to spend her evenings whittling away time there listening to the bands playing until Cassian appeared to escort her back to her disgusting hovel of an apartment.

Even with all the changes he had made for her – repairing the broken items, filling up the wood store she would never touch, bringing groceries that she did not request – it still made her miserable. It was grimy and cramped. Still, it was better than languishing in the Town House where the walls felt as if they were closing in on her. Nesta had always valued her privacy. More than that, she hated owing anybody anything. Feyre had hunted for them as a result of a bizarre request made by their fever-stricken, delirious mother. It had been held over Nesta’s head in every moment since the Night Court had become an unwanted part of her life. Never Elain though. Because Elain was sunny and sweet, one that nobody though capable of hunting, she was not punished for it. No, Nesta could not spend another day in the Town House feeling unwanted. She had been waiting for the day Rhysand presented her with an itemised bill of everything owed during her stay. Ironically, it was their money that had put down the initial six month’s rent but Nesta reasoned that she had done her part in the war and had at least earned something.

Finding employment to support herself was more and more disheartening. She had no skills, no opportunities besides accepting the pity roles Rhysand offered. Nesta did not know how to begin. A couple of shops had small, handwritten advertisements in the window but they did not suit her. At some point though, she would have to stop being picky with her choices. Why did she bother thinking she was above cleaning bedpans in the healing house? There had been one task gifted to her: protect the Wall – and she had failed at that. Failed to protect Elain. Failed to save her father.

Cassian seemed to have noticed her dispirited nature. No matter how frosty she was towards him, there was no dampening his mood. He brought groceries with him each time he turned up and put them away without her approval. He thumped on the door playing a rhythm. He made a habit of rattling the handle if she didn’t open it quick enough too and would stand with a broad grin as she hauled it open.

Surprisingly, Nesta found her irritation was moving into the realms of fondness. She was beginning to savour the way Cassian would hum to himself when he lay beneath the sink to mend it. Or the way that he was always cheerful, that he seemed to enjoy the hisses she made when he called her sweetheart instead of being put off. The cold walks home at night were punctuated with his chatter. He’d tell her about his day and her sisters, even when she did not respond. He’d inform her that he was telling her regardless of whether she wanted to hear it. Some evenings, Nesta was half-tempted to invite him into the tavern with her for a nightcap, but she worried what he might read into it. She ought to have been pushing him away rather than encouraging his infatuation. Hopefully, he’d grow bored of her soon.

When Nesta woke one morning to the sight of the first snow dusting Velaris, her stomach tightened. The apartment was bitterly cold already with its single-pane of glass in the windows. The odd fire that she had the misfortune of sitting near reminded her too much of that day. Each pop of wood flashed her father’s image into her mind. Not when he was young, not when he was useless, not when the King used him as a shield, but when his neck had already been broken. When he had lay on the grass, discarded like an unwanted toy, with glassy eyes and his head was twisted at an angle. Nesta had frozen to the spot that day. Elain had told her there was nothing she could have done to stop it, that the King had known their father would be a weakness for her, but it didn’t take away Nesta’s guilt. She would take the painful cold over the splitting of wood and the horrors it brought with it. Still, it reminded her of winters in their cottage, miserable with hunger and frozen limbs.

Cassian met her near her apartment. She had her head down, coat wrapped tightly around her as snow still fell onto her head, melting into her golden hair.

‘Early breakfast?’ Came that strong, deep voice. He blocked her path with his body then a wing when she tried to side step. ‘Or have you not eaten?’

‘Move.’

‘Let’s get breakfast out. I need to make a start on my solstice shopping too. Are you coming to your sister’s for her birthday?’

A tiredness had been creeping in during the last couple of months. Nesta could never shake it. Each morning, she fought against the temptation to stay in bed. It was so tempting to remain beneath the covers. That same tiredness wheedled its way into every aspect of her life, so when Cassian hadn’t shifted or showed signs of relenting, Nesta gave up.

‘Fine.’

If she expected to see triumph painted on his face, she was wrong. Cassian’s eyes had softened but his mouth twisted with worry she didn’t deserve. A warm hand brushed against her sleeve. ‘What are you in the mood for? Warm food? Pudding for breakfast?’

‘I don’t care,’ she said and she meant it. Nothing really excited her. Nothing held her attention for long anymore.

A hesitant arm settled around her shoulders, but Nesta didn’t throw him off, not when his body was so warm and gentle against hers. It was a declaration she supposed, almost as if he was laying claim on her. Months ago, she might have hoped for it. Certainly, following the war, she dared to dream that Cassian might have sought her out. The tension between them had bubbled for months prior, to the point where Nesta felt disappointed on days that she didn’t encounter him. They had been drawn together time and time again. The culmination of all that agonising tension between them had been the war itself. Cassian would have died so she could run. That notion, that he’d ruin himself for a woman he barely knew, filled Nesta with guilt. She did not deserve that sacrifice.

There shouldn’t have been an after for them. The declaration had been made because their lives had been on the line and, now that they had time, neither seemed to know what to do with it.

‘I won’t let that light go out,’ he said, carefully steering her round a corner. ‘I’ll do whatever I can to have you blazing again.’

‘Even if you’re in the firing line?’

He squeezed her tighter, his own apprehension fading for familiarity. ‘I’d be jealous if it wasn’t me.’ They took pudding for breakfast in a quaint little café that they almost strolled past. Nesta opted for pancakes loaded with fruit and whipped cream while Cassian begrudgingly let her pick his too. Nesta spied a small smile on his face when a plate of waffles drizzled with melted chocolate and chopped strawberries was placed in front of him.

‘Race you?’

Nesta met his challenge, silently wolfing down her food to startle Cassian into action. He was shovelling in his last waffle when she delicately placed her cutlery on her empty plate. The brightness in his hazel eyes was too delightful to ignore. It ignited a flame within her chest and yet she was ashamed that something as trivial as cleaning her plate made him proud of her.

When they were done, Cassian patted his stomach appreciatively. It should have been uncomfortable to be casual with this male, to take meals together in public, but Nesta found that she had grown used to his insistent presence. He hadn’t pushed her to return to the Town House but had worked to improve her apartment so it was more liveable. It had been nice sometimes to have company. The imminent arrival each morning of him had given Nesta the motivation to crawl out of bed most mornings. Cassian seemed to realise that Nesta did not want to engage in conversation, and he never grew offended if she ignored all of his comments, so continued on, fixing things while she trawled the newspapers for employment.

Instead of returning back to her home, Cassian escorted her to one of the market quarters where he paused in the doorway of a bookseller’s. There was a small advertisement tacked in the window that they were seeking assistance on a part-time basis. To the left was a display of newly printed books with brightly-coloured covers nestled amongst leather-bound ancient texts that were antiques even amongst the fae.

‘I need my money for rent,’ she muttered, embarrassed of the heat flooding her cheeks.

‘Early solstice present. Come on, witch.’

‘Witch?’

He squeezed her on the shoulder and grinned. ‘If I can’t call you sweetheart, I’ve got to have a nickname for you.’

The book shop was delightfully warm, each aisle stacked with new books that drew Nesta’s eye. Her eyes roved over each gold-embossed spine with longing but she forced those feelings down. ‘No. I don’t want to owe you anything.’

‘Gifts are freely given.’

Cassian used his big body to block Nesta’s path again which was becoming a familiar habit. He lifted her chin to tip her face upwards to his. A contented sigh escaped her lips at the tenderness of his touch. His wings curled around them protectively in response. Nesta ought to have pushed his wings from her, should have wrenched his hand from her face - but she so badly needed that touch, needed his warmth. Her cheeks were likely scarlet for letting her guard down and sharing this delicate moment with him in a public place. Why should she keep fighting against that urge to lean into his touch? It was an effort more and more each day to reject his unwavering kindness.

‘Anything you want, I’m buying - and carrying.’

‘You don’t have to do this,’ she whispered, trying to turn her cheek away.

He brushed his thumb along the line of her jaw then let his fingers fall away. Nesta found she missed the touch immediately. ‘But I want to.’ Back at her apartment, Cassian was heating milk on the stove while Nesta stared at the snow settling against the window pane. It was frightfully cold already. She dug out another cardigan from the bedroom though her fingers were like icicles as she slotted her new books onto the bookshelf that Cassian had built for her last week. He’d turned up with it, unannounced, and spent the afternoon assembling it after sawing the pieces on the roof of the House of Wind. It had been a battle to allow him into her bedroom; he’d teased and teased her about what he might find in her room, going as far as asking if she had someone tied to the bedframe rendering her unable to speak. He seized his opportunity and entered anyway, cataloguing the creaking floorboards, the cracks in the paint and the leaking roof before setting to work on fixing those too.

‘There’s a drink on the table for you,’ he called from the living room.

Wafts of honey and cinnamon reached her in the bedroom. A warm drink was needed to thaw her insides.

When she returned to the living room, Cassian was knelt by the hearth adding more kindling to the flames he’d brought into existence. Immediately, her throat went dry. That day played back in her mind. Not just her father’s neck, but Cassian bloodied and broken too. His cries of pain. The tremor in his body as Nesta had enveloped him with her own, ready to die together.

‘No.’

It was a different no to the others. It wasn’t the flat, obstinate refusal. It was a desperate beg, a plea not to allow the flames to grow any further.

‘Put the fire out.’

Cassian sank back onto his heels. His gaze flickered between the flames then her, trying to understand the link.

‘I thought you didn’t know how to light one.’

‘I know.’

He thumbed a thin length of wood that was still in his hand. When he spoke again, Cassian’s voice was hesitant, unsure. ‘It’s very cold in here.’

The flames were curling against the dried bark of a log, beginning to catch.

‘Please.’  

Her stomach tensed, observing the spread of the fire. Cassian’s eyes landed on her trembling hands. ‘I will, if you tell me why you don’t like it. Help me to understand.’

‘Don’t blackmail me.’

Hurt flashed on his features then he waved his hand to suffocate the flames with his magic. Nesta loosed a breath when the smoke curled upwards towards the chimney and only blackened logs remained.

Nesta thought she had achieved her warped goal of pushing Cassian away when he stood and approached the front door. He merely gestured to four locks on the front door. ‘What’s all of this about, Nes? You pick an apartment you don’t feel safe in, you won’t have a fire to keep you warm – and I’ve seen the buckets you use to wash. What is it? A punishment?’

‘Leave, Cassian.’

The male pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Stop pushing me away. I want to help you. I want to understand.’

The dam was pushed to its limits. Nesta couldn’t take it. Couldn’t take his undeserved kindness. She had done nothing in her life to ever warrant his care.

‘I’ve asked you to leave,’ she said in a voice that was much stronger than she felt.

His mouth puckered into a frown. ‘I’m not leaving here until I know why you want to sit in a freezing cold apartment.’

‘Why do you care?’ She asked again, frustration leaking into her tone. ‘Why do you care what I do or do not do?’

‘Because I should have come to you after the war. Because I waited until I was healed then I waited until I had finished in Illyria then I waited until we had dealt with the Hewn City. And I kept putting it off because the alternative was facing the truth that since I met you, Nesta, there is no other for me.’ He stepped forwards, the movement making the floorboards quake. ‘I vowed that I would find you. When you needed me, I wasn’t there. I was too afraid of the truth. War was brand new to you, this life is still so new to you and you’ve barely seen beyond Velaris’ wards, and I should have been there for you sooner.’

In the face of another declaration, Nesta did not know how to respond. These days, she had so little anger to lean on anymore. His hand gripped her face again, turning her to look at him. The heat blazing in his eyes was too much to bear. ‘Your drink will go cold,’ she murmured, tugging her body away.

‘Sit beside me. Please.’ Cassian’s hand dragged her along to the couch before she could protest. He leant over her to pull a thick, knitted blanket over her shoulders. ‘I want to help. I don’t want anything from you. I miss you. I miss that fire. I miss that female who could take me down with one cutting line.’

Again, Nesta wanted to ask him why he cared so much. She’d wanted to slip away from the Town House where she existed as a ghost, but he’d trailed her. He had shown in his deeds that he did care. Whatever the reason was, it was insignificant. Cassian had demonstrated time and time again that he did care about her.

‘Is it a punishment?’ He pressed her mug into her hands, the warmth seeping through her skin instantly. Nesta could taste the sweet flavour of cinnamon in the milk. ‘Because you never failed at anything, Nesta.’

‘I let Feyre hunt.’ They were words thrown at her often enough by Rhysand, Mor, Amren, even Cassian. Only Lucien and Azriel had never held her accountable for that time in their lives.

Cassian’s lips turned downwards. ‘I know my high lady well enough by now. I don’t think you can “let” Feyre do anything. She’ll do it whether she wants to or not.’  

‘The Wall.’

Nesta tracked the path of Cassian’s mug to his lips. They sat opposite each other on the couch, his knees tucked up onto the couch while she turned her body sideways towards him. If the male was cold, he showed no signs of it.

‘It was unfair to ever put that burden on your shoulders. We didn’t know what sort of powers you possessed, but magic takes years to train – longer to master. It should never have been your responsibility.’

‘I still failed.’

He shook his head resolutely. ‘It was an impossible task faced against a king with centuries worth of knowledge. Even Amren and Rhys could do nothing. There was very little hope.’

‘Hope is the only thing made me survive those years in poverty.’

Calloused fingers tangled with her own until his hand engulfed her own entirely. ‘You did not fail.’

Rallying her courage, Nesta fought to bring her truth to the surface. It wasn’t easy to remove her armour and bear the tender parts of her, but she would try. This male was giving her a reason to try.

‘My father.’

‘You didn’t fail. Nesta, don’t think for a moment that you failed. The King knew he could-’

Nesta held up a palm. She didn’t need Cassian to tell her there was nothing she could have done. She had replayed that moment enough times to come to that conclusion herself yet her mind refused to accept that bitter pill.

‘The fire.’

‘Fire?’

If Nesta did not draw out the poison infecting her veins, it would spread worse than it already had. Regrets festered. Wounds rotted. Cassian had been earnest and patient with her.

‘When I hear the pop of logs.’ Nesta could not meet his eyes. ‘That sound. It reminds me of his neck. When the King.’ Not only the sound, but seeing it blaze sometimes reminded Nesta of the aftermath when Feyre had used her powers to cremate their father’s body rather than a burial. Nesta wished she had looked away like Feyre and Elain had, but she had stared as his skin charred until only blackened bones remained.

‘And the buckets?’

She had to remove all of it, all of the poison soaking into her body, no matter how much it hurt to let it out. ‘I cannot submerge my head in the bath. I can barely sit in the bathtub. How long was it for you when I went in the Cauldron?’

The male rubbed the nape of his neck then gestured to Nesta that she needed to drink the rest of her beverage while it was still warm. ‘I was badly injured. A minute. Maybe less.’

‘I couldn’t get out. It felt like an eternity. I couldn’t breathe. The surface felt like… like a crust of ice. I thought I’d never breach it then I started clawing at it, taking anything I could in revenge for Elain's suffering.’

‘What was it like in there? What did it to do you?’

‘Like molten ore poured into my veins, turning my bones to steel. Darkness. Agony. Power.’  Nesta drained the last of her drink. ‘I cannot go in the bathtub.’

Letting it out did feel better, like chopping off some rotten part of her before it infected all of her. Cassian drummed his fingers on his knee, his eyes had flicked towards the corner of the room which Nesta knew was a tell that he was thinking and planning.

‘I’ll install a shower. I can have it done before it gets dark. But how to keep you warm?’ He mused and Nesta was surprised – and a little disappointed - that no lewd comment followed. ‘A bedwarmer needs embers from a fire. Is it just the sound? Fine. Light the stove while I’m gone and that will add some warmth. I’ll be back soon.’

***

Cassian’s master plan had been an iron wood burner. It took a few hours to install as he worried over the ventilation, but he showed Nesta how to light fire and coals then to close the glass-panelled door and the fire would burn still. It muffled the sounds so even the loudest pops became only a quiet, indistinct noise. From the bedroom, she could not hear it at all. Before Nesta had the chance to thank him, Cassian had already breezed past her through the bedroom and into the bathroom where he was installing a shower into the existing copper piping.

While he was busy, a knock at the door roused her from her stunned silence. The owner of the book store stood on her doormat, grey hair twisted up into a bun.

‘Can I help you?’

‘Nesta Archeron?’

‘Is there an issue with the payment for the books?’

The female shook her head. ‘Lord Cassian came by and said you were interested in seeking employment with us. If you could come by tomorrow for a trial period of a couple of hours, that would work for me. Is that all right?’

‘Yes. Yes, thank you.’

Hope grew in place of the poison. Although Nesta lacked the skills for many employment opportunities, she knew books. Her temper could be irritable and capricious, but she read fiction and fact, could review without bias, and could recommend. She’d clean where needed, polish the counters or the glass. Anything to keep a roof above her head and whittle away her time rather than rotting in this apartment.

‘You spoke to the book seller,’ she said to Cassian as he tested the hot tap.

‘I told her you were too shy,’ he grinned sheepishly.

‘You’ve installed the shower already?’

‘Not just a brute after all.’

Nesta shook her head. ‘How can I repay you?’

‘You can stop punishing yourself for a start. Keep a routine, out of bed, have breakfast, go to work, have lunch and dinner, stay warm, regular sleep.’ Cassian packed away his tools with as much reverence as he gave his weapons.

Nesta caught him by the wrist then rose up on her tip toes to kiss his cheek. ‘Thank you for everything. How did you learn to do all of this?'

‘I’m very good with my hands, sweetheart.’

‘There it is,’ Nesta groaned. ‘I thought you might have made a comment earlier about warming me up. You did well to hold in your vulgarity for such a substantial amount of time.’

‘Vulgarity? There’s a big word. But that’s-’

‘If you tell me that’s not the only thing that’s big, I swear-’

She was interrupted by Cassian’s rough laughter. ‘You know me so well.’

‘Because you keep turning up here like a stray dog.’

‘Stop feeding me then.’

Of course, Cassian turned up the next morning at breakfast time and rattled the door until she opened it. They fell into their strange but familiar domestic routine where they’d prepare breakfast together and eat on the sagging couch. This time, the apartment was blissfully warm though Cassian commented that he’d bring more wood by soon to re-stock her meagre supply. It was nice to be taken care of without being made to pay it back or being made to feel guilty over it. She wondered if it was nice for Cassian to be away from his family for a few hours and have peace too or whether he enjoyed taking care of somebody.

The male insisted on walking her again to the book shop before her trial shift. The fluttering of nerves in her chest was eased by his calming demeanour. The male oozed confidence; he flattered her skills, reminding her that she had read half of the library in the first couple of weeks in the House of Wind.

‘I’m in Illyria for a couple of days,’ he explained, stopping at the door. ‘I asked your sisters to give you some space for a while. You can be mad at me for interfering if you want.’ When Nesta said nothing, he continued, ‘I’ve arranged for you to have lunch with them after your shift today.’

He braced himself for a barrage of insults, but Nesta was too stunned. She let out a quiet laugh. ‘Lord of Bloodshed, handyman, and my personal assistant?’

‘For you, Nes, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do.’

Now, her heart was fluttering for a wholly different reason. ‘You need to stop saying things like this.’

Cassian chuckled. ‘Stop telling you the truth? Stop telling you that you’re the most beautiful female I’ve ever met and you will get this job because you are wonderful.’

She rolled her eyes, but her heart was leaping at the compliments. ‘You’ve become too soft, fearsome warrior.’

‘This fearsome warrior would like to know if you would come to our Solstice celebrations?’

‘I don’t have the money to buy presents.’

As if anticipating that reaction, Cassian withdrew a pouch of coins and pressed them into her hand.

‘I don’t need your charity.’

‘Call it a loan then. Pay me back once you get wages from here – because you will get this job. I don’t even need to say good luck because it’s not in any doubt. I have to go. See you in a few days, sweetheart.’

Cassian leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to her forehead which Nesta reached up to receive. For a moment, both froze. It had been utterly natural to move together like that, like lovers who knew each other’s hearts. Nesta didn't know what it meant - only that it had been right.

[feyresdaughter]

A Court of Frost and Starlight, chapter Ten - Twelve:

I painted and painted and painted. My heart thundered the entire time, steady as a war-drum. I painted until my back cramped and my stomach gurgled with demands for hot cocoa and dessert. The tower bells of Velaris sang twelve before I stopped. Before I lowered my brush and stared at what I’d created. Stared at what gazed back. Me. Or how I’d been in the Ouroboros, that beast of scale and claw and darkness; rage and joy and cold. All of me. What lurked beneath my skin. I had not run from it. And I did not run from it now. Yes—the first stitch to close a wound. That’s how it felt.

Her first painting, her true self 😭

RHYS POV

A tomb. This place was a tomb.

Cool, now Tamlin just has to die

I smiled. “Oh, no. That was all her. Clever, isn’t she.”

Aw he's so proud

It made no difference. He’d been there that day. Had given his father and brothers the information on where my sister and mother would be waiting for me to meet them. And done nothing to help them as they were butchered. I still saw their heads in those baskets, their faces still etched with fear and pain. And saw them again as I beheld the High Lord of Spring, both of us crowned in the same blood-soaked night.

And people still think Tamlin is getting a redemption arc 🙄

“You brought every bit of this upon yourself,” I said, my voice still soft. I didn’t need to yell to convey my rage. I never had. “You won,” he spat, sitting forward. “You got your mate. Is that not enough?” - “No.” The word echoed through the library. “You nearly destroyed her. In every way possible.” Tamlin bared his teeth. I bared mine back, temper be damned. Let some of my power rumble through the room, the house, the grounds. “She survived it, though. Survived you. And you still felt the need to humiliate her, belittle her. If you meant to win her back, old friend, that wasn’t the wisest route.” - “Get out.” I wasn’t finished. Not even close. “You deserve everything that has befallen you. You deserve this pathetic, empty house, your ravaged lands. I don’t care if you offered that kernel of life to save me, I don’t care if you still love my mate. I don’t care that you saved her from Hybern, or a thousand enemies before that.” The words poured out, cold and steady. “I hope you live the rest of your miserable life alone here. It’s a far more satisfying end than slaughtering you.” Feyre had once arrived at the same decision. I’d agreed with her then, still did, but now I truly understood.

Rhysand was way too nice here

I found Feyre walking home from presumably doing some shopping, a few bags dangling from her gloved hands. Her smile when I landed beside her, snow whipping around us, was like a fist to my heart.

He loves her so much 😭

“Walk home with me,” she said, looping her arm through mine and pressing close. I obeyed, taking the bags from her other hand.

We need more fanart of them just haling hands ok

She smiled broadly. Bright as the full moon, lovelier than any star.

The sound of her laughter danced with me all the way to the Palace of Thread and Jewels.

Feyre can recharge Rhys with just a laugh, she's that powerful

FEYRE POV

“What the hell is that?” Cassian was grinning the next evening as he waved a hand toward the pile of pine boughs dumped on the ornate red rug in the center of the foyer. “Solstice decorations. Straight from the market.” Snow clung to his broad shoulders and dark hair , and his tan cheeks were flushed with cold. “You call that a decoration?” He smirked. “A heap of pine in the middle of the floor is Night Court tradition.” I crossed my arms. “Funny.” - “I’m serious.” I glared, and he laughed. “It’s for the mantels, the banister, and whatever else, smartass. Want to help?”

BIG BRO LITTLE SIS VIBES

I remained where I was and tapped my foot. “What?”he said, brows rising. It was rare to see Cassian in anything but his Illyrian leathers, but the clothes, while not as fine as anything Rhys or Mor usually favored, suited him. “Dumping a bunch of trees at my feet is really how you say hello these days? A little time in that Illyrian camp and you forget all your manners.”Cassian was on me in a second, hoisting me off the ground to twirl me until I was going to be sick. I beat at his chest, cursing at him.

Them 😭😭😭😭 oh I love them so much

Cassian set me down at last. “What’d you get me for Solstice?” I smacked his arm. “A heaping pile of shut the hell up.” He laughed again, and I winked at him. “Hot cocoa or wine?” Cassian curved a wing around me, turning us toward the cellar door. “How many good bottles does little Rhysie have left?”

CASSIAN CURVING HIS WING AROUND FEYRE AND LEADING HER TO THE WINE

We drank two of them before Azriel arrived, took one look at our drunken attempts at decorating, and set about fixing it before anyone else could see the mess we’d made. Lounging on a couch before the birch fire in the living room, we grinned like devils as the shadowsinger straightened the wreaths and garlands we’d chucked over things, swept up pine needles we’d scattered over the carpets, and generally shook his head at everything.

Not them just grinning as they watch Azriel doing the work 😭❤️

“Az, relax for a minute,”Cassian drawled, waving a hand. “Have some wine. Cookies.” - “Take off your coat,”I added, pointing the bottle toward the shadowsinger, who hadn’t even bothered to do so before fixing our mess. Azriel straightened a sagging section of garland over the windowsill. “It’s almost like you two tried to make it as ugly as possible.”Cassian clutched at his heart. “We take offense to that.”Azriel sighed at the ceiling. “Poor Az,”I said, pouring myself another glass. “Wine will make you feel better.”

Them watching Az:

I'm cackling, I love the Feyre and Cassian chaotic energy

Rhys surveyed the room and chuckled. “I can tell exactly which ones you two did, and which ones Azriel tried to fix before I got here.”Azriel was indeed now rubbing his temple. Rhys lifted a brow at me. “I expected better from an artist.”I stuck out my tongue at him.

I LOVE THIS FAMILY AND AZRIEL IS HAVING A HEADACHE LMAO

“It’s cold as hell!” Mor called from the front hall, startling me from the warmth pooling in my core. “And who the hell let Cassian and Feyre decorate?”

The way she IMMEDIATELY knew

She, however, scowled. “You two couldn’t wait until I got here to break into the good wine?” I grinned as Cassian said, “We were just getting started on Rhys’s collection.” Rhys scratched his head. “It is there for anyone to drink, you know. Help yourself to whatever you want.” - “Dangerous words, Rhysand,” Amren warned,

Crime that SJM didn't include Mor in that chaos

She looked—“You look like an angry snowball,” Cassian said. I clamped my lips together to keep the laugh in.

THEHEHEHE

Cassian kissing Elain’s cheek in greeting before he nearly lifted her out of the way to get to the dining table.

“Are you just going to hold that chicken all night?” Cassian asked me from the table. Scowling, I stomped toward him, plunking the platter onto the wooden surface. “I spat in it,” I said sweetly. “Makes it all the more delicious,” Cassian crooned, smiling right back.

SIBLINGS OKAY

“Pig,”Mor supplied. Cassian gave a pointed look to the plate of green beans, chicken, bread, and ham already half eaten on Mor’s plate.

Their bickering is everything

Amren hissed at him, her dark hair swaying like a curtain of liquid night, “Do you know what an inconvenience it is to need to find a place to relieve myself everywhere I go?”A fizzing noise came from Cassian’s side of the table, but I clamped my lips together. Mor gripped my knee beneath the table, her body shaking with the effort of keeping her laugh reined in. I didn’t dare meet Mor’s stare. Or Cassian’s. One look and I’d completely dissolve. Amren waved a hand down at herself. “I should have selected a male form. At least you can whip it out and go wherever you like without having to worry about spilling on—” Cassian lost it. Then Mor. Then me. And even Az, chuckling faintly. “Tell me you know how a toilet works,” Cassian burst out, slapping a broad hand on the table. “Tell me you know that much.” I clapped a hand over my mouth, as if it would push the laugh back in. Across the table, Rhys’s eyes were brighter than stars, his mouth a quivering line as he tried and failed to remain serious.

I want to be there

“I was more drawn to the female form,” Amren answered simply. “I thought it was more symmetrical. It pleased me.” Mor frowned down at her own form, ogling her considerable assets. “True.”

Mhm yeah Mor knows how it is to be drawn to the female form

“Pick on someone your own size,”Cassian said to Amren, shoveling roast chicken into his mouth. “I’d feel bad for the mice,”Azriel muttered.

HOWLING

Winnowing into the freezing street, I pinwheeled my arms to keep upright as my boots slid on the ice coating the stones. Leaning against a lamppost, faelight gilding the talons atop his wings, Rhys chuckled. And didn’t move an inch. “Asshole,”I muttered. “Most males would help their mates if they’re about to break their heads on the ice.”He pushed off the lamppost and prowled toward me, every movement smooth and unhurried. Even now, I’d gladly spend hours just watching him. “I have a feeling that if I had stepped in, you would have bitten my head off for being an overbearing mother hen, as you called me.”I grumbled an answer he chose not to hear.

Feyre cursing at Rhysand and their bickering and Feyre always slamming into things omg

[nova-stardragon]

You Work Too Hard

Read on AO3 here <3

Cassian POV

Az had sneezed three times in the past 5 minutes. I drummed my hands on the table, staring at the doorway to the living room, where Az was working on reports.

This couldn’t be normal. Maybe he was having allergies…?

I looked out the window at the barren, snowy landscape – now dark since it was well after sunset. Maybe there was some sort of… cold weather loving mold, only active at nighttime. That was probably it.

There was a distinct thump in the living room, and then silence. “Az?” I called softly. There was no reply.

I stared at the doorway for a moment, before springing to my feet. I was standing in the doorway before I knew it. “Hey Az – I know you said not to bother you, but I heard… SHIT!”

Az had collapsed in the space between the couch and the table, looking like he had just… fallen. Maybe he had been trying to stand.

“Az, Azazaz…” I hurried over to him, banging my shin on the table in the process, and dragged him up. After a moment, I carefully laid him on the couch. “Are you hurt? What happened?”

He stared at me, eyes unfocused, face flushed. “Cas…” his voice was low and raspy, like he had just walked through a desert for two months without any water, while screaming at the top of his lungs.

I put the back of my hand to his head. “Shit, Az, you’re burning up.”

“I…” he winced, reaching a hand up to his throat. “I might… be sick.”

“Well no shit.” I said, giving him a look. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“I have to…”

“Stop talking!!”

“But...”

“No! Shush. Shut your face. Quiet time.” I waved a hand in his face. He blinked at me, glaring a little bit, and made a vulgar gesture, and then ruined it by sneezing again.

I forced myself not to laugh. “Come on.” I pulled at him gently, trying to coax him upright. “Can you stand, or do you need help?”

He stood, and then swayed, almost falling over. I caught him against me easily, keeping an arm secure around his waist and guiding his arm over my shoulder. I tried a few steps before I realized he was too shaky even for this to work.

I readjusted, releasing him before scooping him up bridal style. I was careful to make sure his wings were folded properly – I was pinning them against his back, and the last thing I wanted was to hurt the delicate limbs.

He made a surprised noise, probably at the suddenness of the change. “Cas – you don’t… have to…”

“Shh.” I murmured, quieting him. “Rest. It’s okay.”

His head fell against my shoulder, and I tried not to think about how right that felt. I carried him up the stairs, and carefully laid him down on his bed. I rested my hand against his head again, and he was still burning up. He turned his head into my hand, mumbling something.

I stroked his brow, thinking furiously. I needed to get Madja, but I didn’t want to leave him alone. What if he collapsed again? What if he stopped breathing?

I walked out of his room, across the hallway, and pounded furiously on Rhys’s door. There was a muffled grunt, footsteps, and then a bare chested and very sleep disgruntled Rhys was standing there. “Cas, what the hell, do you know what time…”

“Az is sick, like, very sick.” I cut him off. “I don’t know what’s wrong. We need Madja.”

I heard Feyre from deeper in the room. “Can Fae even get sick?”

Rhys glanced back at her. “It’s rare, but it happens.” He looked back at me. “I’ll get Madja. Go sit with him until I get back.” He started walking away almost before he was done talking, shrugging on his shirt.

I ran back to Azriel’s room and let out a breath when his chest was still rising and falling. He was staring up at the ceiling, looking miserable.

“Rhys is getting Madja – “ I said, going over to him again, and gently brushing his sweat slicked hair back. “You’re going to be fine.”

“I know.” He croaked. “You’re all overreacting.”

Feyre came in, biting her lip. “Is he okay?”

“I’d be better if everyone stopped fussing. I’m fine, I just need…”

“To stop talking.” I cut him off, still gently running my hand through his hair. “Before you hurt your throat.” I glanced over at Feyre, who was hovering in the doorway. “Maybe some water…?”

She nodded, and then darted off. Az’s eyes fluttered closed, breathing a little shallow. I sought out his hand with mine, and shifted positions so I was half cuddling him. “I’m going to get you sick.” He mumbled.

I shook my head, and continued holding his hand and stroking his hair. “I’ll wait to get sick until after you’re better, so that you can have a turn making my life miserable and hovering like a mother hen.”

He huffed out a breath, eyes still closed. His whole body was warm against me, unnaturally warm. It was almost unpleasant, but I didn’t want to let him go, not when holding him like this meant I could feel his breathing and his heart.

Feyre returned, holding a glass of water, and I let go of Az’s hand to take it from her, gently lifting Az so he could drink. The fact that he didn’t even try to protest me doing it for him worried me, a lot.

Madja stormed into the room, followed by Rhys and somehow Mor. Madja looked around in exasperation, then said “everyone but my patient needs to get out.” She waved her hands at them, and they dispersed. She looked at me, and I glared at her. I wasn’t moving. Rhys could order me to move, and I’d stay here. A tree could fall through the window and I’d… well, I probably wouldn’t stay here, I’d probably move Azriel, but still…

She just stared at me, exasperated. “You’re an idiot.” She informed me.

“He really is.” Az croaked out, turning his face to look at her.

“You’re an even bigger idiot.” Az looked like he wanted to protest that, but she shook her head, waving her finger at him. “No, no, don’t talk. Let’s take a look at you.”

For the next half hour, she poked and prodded at a reluctant Azriel. She finally started quizzing him about his sleeping schedule, his eating schedule, his working schedule, his work out schedule, and basically every other kind of thing that he did in his life.

That’s how I found out my best friend hadn’t been sleeping but had instead been working most nights. No wonder he got sick – immortals could take a lot, but even we needed sleep sometimes. Combine that with all the time he spent in dank, rotting dungeons and it was no shock he got sick.

Madja gave him some medicine, the explanation for which went over my head, and told him to rest. Then she looked at me. “Tie him to the bed if you have to, but you get that male to rest and actually sleep. And drink. And eat.”

I nodded. “I will.”

Az made a grumbling noise, but I put my hand over his mouth to quiet him. He huffed against it.

Once Madja left (and she must’ve dealt with the horde that was outside Az’s room as well, because no one came in to bother us), I gently extracted myself from where I was holding Az. I settled him back down in the blankets, and he stayed down without protest. I brought him a glass of water in case he got thirsty, and then situated myself in the chair next to his bed.

He spoke as I was doing so. “If you sit there and watch me sleep I’m going to get up, climb out the window, and go for a flight in below freezing weather.”

I glared at him. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

“Then get in the fucking bed.”

I hesitated, but eventually decided that he sounded serious. He couldn’t walk up the stairs on his own, but he probably would go for a midnight flight out of sheer stubbornness. Regardless, I didn’t want to chance him even trying to get up. Just picturing his body, collapsed on the floor earlier…

I climbed into bed next to him, leaving space between us, only for him to curl into me, pressing his wings into my side.

He was asleep in moments, which only showed me how much he needed it.

“Shit.” I muttered, but adjusted gently sliding one of my arms underneath his head so that his hair spilled across my shoulder. I closed my eyes, and fell asleep to cool shadows ghosting over my skin and a warm body tucked into my side.

[nikethestatue]

Warning sorry it’s so long! 🥲💝

So my mutual claims we saw the real Feysand through Nestas eyes and that they really are stuck up, selfish assholes. I think it’s because she relates to Nesta and how her attitude is toward people instead of actually caring about what’s really canon..? It’s kinda starting to bother me because it feels so invalid, we even know that the POV was mostly bias. SJM even said it in the live I said and she’s just like “well I still think Nesta was right” im not gonna lie it kind of turns me off from wanting to be her friend because it just feels delusional..they aren’t that bad 💀

Arrogant? sure, but who isn’t in the series including Nesta when she walks around with her chin in the sky since the first book? Selfish? They ALL tried being kind to her and welcomed her into their homes. The only one that was skeptical was Mor because she likely didn’t like how Nesta treated Feyre her new bestfriend, and didn’t like her attitude leading to her not thinking she was right for Cassian, it wasn’t cool but I understood it yk. Amren’s always an ass but that seemed to be what Nesta liked about her until it was toward her, but still Amren kind of spoke facts in ACOSF, especially when Nesta thought she “chose” Feyre over her as if Feyre was Amrens friend/employee of the court before she’d even met Nesta, the insults were harsh but her check Nesta about Feyre and scoffing was necessary it was disrespectful toward Feyre. Cass? Didn’t like how submissive he seemed in ACOSF for her..he barely had any personality. Az is always pretty neutral and kind. Rhys was stressed and miserable..

I get not liking the Pregnancy storyline but I haven’t villainized Rhys for it because I understood and even SJM said it’s understandable the way he was behaving, she even hinted in the books twice that mates with a pregnant mate are fragile temper wise and very protective. Cass and Rhys said it. It just seems like people try harder to villainize him than they do at just comprehending the canon material..I think she gave him an Edward storyline and didn’t realize some women would hold grudges despite him being good, so that just is what that is for a portion of the fandom. But claiming he’s horrible outside of that is wrong to me, even SJM said he’s “the same rhys from the other books” and that it’s just more negative in nesta’s eyes and even cass seemed kind of immature toward rhysand at times, ignoring logic in big situations and only thinking of Nesta and not the big picture they all were focused on. He seemed like a doofus when it came to political decisions I love him but he would just say “No not Nesta” when they obviously needed nesta and it seemed like his Pov even tried villianizing them. Amren was shitty but I felt his POV felt petty at times and that made me sad because I used to stan cassian. I feel like he was boring and kinda wishy washy toward them in the book. It kinda made me just want Az’s book already 😅

And Eris and Nesta would’ve had a way better love story and she would’ve fit right in at Autumn, once Eris killed the brothers and Father of course 😂 But I do feel like that story would’ve went better. Nessian as cute as they sort of are together, felt not..meant to be at times. And I think it’s because she butchered the romantic aspects they could’ve had in ACOSF. She even felt like the dominant one in the relationship and not just in bed. I like the change but it also made him seem..weaker than I thought he’d be.

In the end, the POV was through more negative glasses and the author even just confirmed it was due to jealousy and spite toward Feyre and Rhysand (I have the clip somewhere) so aside from the pregnancy storyline idc, they aren’t assholes lol, they can be! Them all being the grey characters that they are, but they’re good loving people at their core and we’ve all seen that. I love Nesta but the fact that some of my mutuals can’t see it honestly irks me. It feels immature to just ignore the truth and even when the author says it herself. She just said she loved them both so much and that yes he can be an ass and he has flaws especially with his secrets but he’s a good person. Feyre was incredibly sweet to Nesta until she milked her for money and treated Elain and her poorly by blocking them out and saying she wanted nothing to do with them. I’m glad Feyre didn’t give up on her..but Nesta Stan’s, some of you, the same claims are getting old..especially after that livestream.

I think that Nesta’s pov was just ONE pov. So it’s just as biased as Feyre’s, or anyone else’s.

Nesta doesn’t make a secret of not liking Rhys. BUT, she also doesn’t deny that he is a good male, a just, thoughtful ruler, and someone who cares for his people and his Court. That’s is also Nesta’s opinion. Yes, his personality she finds grating and doesn’t like being in his company. That’s fine. I think we aren’t meant to like everyone.

But

There is also a pattern in Nesta disliking all of her sisters’ boyfriends or partners.

She didn’t like Isaac, didn’t like Graysen, hated Tamin, doesn’t like Lucien, or Rhys.

Some are probably justified, but even with Graysen- there is no indication that he was mean or abusive or disrespectful to Elain. Elain genuinely liked/loved him and it seems he did too.

So, the question is, was it envy that colored Nesta’s perception of everyone? Rhys obviously adores Feyre. He went to the end of the earth for her, and loves her with a mindless passion.

I mean, I’d probably be envious too. Especially when Nesta’s only relationship prior to Cassian was with an abusive Tomas who almost raped her.

Assuming that Nesta’s view of Feysand is somehow the most correct one is silly. She has a ton of prejudices against them, so thinking that she is the only one who sees through them is absurd.

Also, regardless of whatever she thought of Rhys, thinking of Feyre selfish, thoughtless and prideful is just a dumb take. No one can call a Feyre that. And I don’t think Nesta did. She made a comment about the mansion, but again, it wasn’t Feyre asking for one. It was Rhys’s gift to her.

I don’t think Nesta’s opinions of Feysand are any more valid than those of Cassian, for example. He thinks Feysand are amazing. It’s just as true as Nesta thinking that Rhys is an arrogant asshole.

[lostbetweenthepagesofthesebooks]

I got a Kindle for Christmas, ya'll, and I freakin loooove it. I read this one on the Kindle because I hadn't decided yet if I actually wanted to physical own this series. We're running out of room in bookshelf.

Overall: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Characters: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Plot: ⭐⭐⭐⭐

The people were right… the series really does pick up with this one. So does the… spiciness.. If that’s your thing. Spoiler ya’ll: it’s not my thing. But I managed.

We’re back in the Spring Court because Feyre has saved all the faeries from the curse and Amarantha, as well as her “love” (right…?). Well, Feyre is miserable. She’s clearly suffering from PTSD from her time Under the Mountain. And rightfully so. Tamlin is responding by… not responding. This is one of the points where people start to hate Tamlin. Feyre makes excuses for him because he went through a lot too. But honestly, people. From Feyre’s POV in the first book, he kind of just… sat there?... and watched everyone else suffer? Obviously we don’t fully know that, and Tamlin had to watch his “love” suffer, which can be a lot on a person. But really, Tamlin? 

ANYWAYS. Feyre is silently suffering. Rhys is nowhere to be found, despite the bargain him and Feyre made. We meet a character named Ianthe and she’s basically walking sex-appeal; we all insistently envision Natalie Dormer right? What’s it about her anyways? She’s certainly, well, interesting. Something major happens for Feyre…. She’s silently panicking, BEGGING for help… BAM. Finally. Rhys. Rhys calls in their bargain and whisks Feyre to the Night Court. Which just sounds so beautiful and peaceful. Feyre, even though she begged for help, is very resistant. Rhys is being his cocky little self, we’re seeing more of the bond being laid down between these two, while he’s attempting to teach Feyre how to read (finally, girl). We go back and forth between Spring, where Feyre is instantly back to her miserable, PTSD self. She’s basically not allowed to do anything, but to remain inside the house and roam the yard a bit. She’s certainly not allowed to tap into whatever potential magic she might have. To Night, where Feyre is still struggling with her PTSD, but at least she’s being encouraged to grapple with it, encouraged to explore, and encouraged to discover her new abilities. During this time we meet the oh-so-lovely Morrigan. 

Another major event occurs where Feyre finally snaps. She completely breaks, and Mor is there to whisk her away. For good. Time in the Night Court is very lovely. For once we start to see Feyre bloom as a whole person, and we get to see her start to tap into her Fae magic, including the magic she inherited from each Court. We meet our beloved crew: Amren, a different type of creature, somewhat cold/wicked, but we love her; Cassian/Cass, Rhys’s fun-loving, general; Azriel/Az, Rhy’s spy, also called the shadowsinger; and Mor, of course, who sounds like Athena from Greek mythology, a beautiful warrior. Until BOOM. Well actually… We first learn of the threat while Feyre is still in Spring Court. But yes. There’s another, bigger threat: Amarantha’s boss - The King of Hybern. But in Night Court we learn much more of this threat and what it means for our characters and Prythian. 

We learn that the King of Hybern is searching out an immensely powerful object, and the crew decides it’ll be quicker, and more important, for them to find an object that can be used with/against this object. Their object is split in two: one part in Human Realm, one part in Fae Realm (specifically, Summer Court). So we do return to the Human Realm, and we see Feyre’s sisters again. They have their prejudices, but it’s also their sister, so they… warm up. Elain is sweet Elain. Nesta is cold Nesta. Their new estate will be grounds for alliance, thus a neutral ground. We learn that there is essentially a gang of human Queens that are meant to rule the Human Realm; they have the one half of the object being sought.

We visit Summer Court, also very lovely. We meet Tarquin, the High Lord of Summer. His cousins Cresseida and Varian. Feyre gets more in touch with her gifts from Summer Court. And the crew manage to swindle away the half of the object they’ve been searching for and away from Summer before they are caught (was their hope, anyways). Eventually the human Queen’s are willing to meet with our crew, but at first refuse them the other half of what they need. Eventually the Queen’s, well really just one them, give them the other half. Something vital has to be given before this happens though.

There’s also some other side stuff happening in between, such as Amren working on decoding the objects, Az being a spymaster, and Feyre training. This stuff is actually pretty important to further the storyline, I’m just trying so hard to not have these reviews so intense. I’m a work in progress. During this time Feyre learns something vital between her and Rhys: they are mates. I won’t go too deep here, I think it’s enough said for here, but there’s some to learn from the book. Feyre also learns what the Dawn Court gave her when she learns of this. There’s also a bit of a tiff that occurs because of this, but… meh. Not really necessary here.

When Hybern invades our beautiful, bustling city of Velaris in the Night Court (successfully thwarted by our crew), they all decide they must act now. On our way to Hybern we go. Yes, dark and dreary and all that stuff. They find the other object, but they were right in thinking that Hybern got it first; and attempt to use their, now combined object. But this time our crew is thwarted. The King of Hybern anticipated this. It’s a big showdown. Turns out Tamlin, Lucien, and Ianthe sold our crew out, as well as Feyre’s sister because they are dragged in by the Queen’s, who have shown up now as well. There’s a back and forth. And spoiler: Nesta and Elain do get affected by the object Hybern has… and now are Made… aka Nesta and Elain have become High Fae. 

Feyre manages to work her own magic by using her gifts from Day Court, while playing the part of someone who has had their memory warped. Another, very small, spoiler: this is an ability that Rhys has, so this becomes a good weapon for Feyre to use against Tamlin, seeing has he truly believes that Rhys has completely brainwashed Feyre (hence, the sell out… yes. He did all of it… for love). It works. And Feyre returns. With Tamlin. To Spring Court.

Obviously our little crew is v confused. And they’re mad at Rhys for “letting this happen”. Rhys reveals that there’s no reason why Feyre, of her own accord, can’t be his spy…. As she is the High Lady of the Night Court. Yes, in a private ceremony Feyre and Rhys get married and have her made as High Lady (which is another thing that Tamlin said would never happen for Feyre).

So basically.. If you can stick through ACOTAR, I think you’ll be fairly happy with this book. This one is more fun imo, and more dramatic. I think we get to see more fantasy on display with this one, if that’s your thing because it is mine. We also get to discover more of the world SJM is giving us, which I also love. I will say, though, I don’t think you can DNF the series at this point. I’m sure you could if you couldn’t finish the book itself, but I feel like if you finish this one, you’re gonna want to read the next one. ACOTAR finished in a way that didn’t leave much, unless you read the ‘In the next book’ portion. ACOMAF ends in a cliff-hanger, so if you want to hang onto the ride, then yes, I totally recommend.

Read on beautiful people. 📖🤘

Now this spot is for when I want to get a little more into my thoughts and feelings about the book, with the addition that there will more than likely be major spoilers. I realized some of the other reviews I wasn’t getting quite what I needed/wanted. And I’m still trying to be mindful for people who haven’t read these books, but I also wanted to have space for those who have read these books and are looking for more opinions!

So from the top… Feyre back in Spring Court. Going through Feyre’s PTSD episodes… I felt these were a bit lack luster. I’m not trying to minimize anything, but I guess I wish her time Under the Mountain had went into more detail. Maybe even excruciating detail. Under The Mountain was definitely wild, but I also wanted to feel more of Feyre’s moments after each trial, and I really did not think we got that. Thus, I felt sad for Feyre, but it just didn’t quite hit. BUT what did hit was Tamlin just there and not offering any type of help when the person he “loves” is clearly suffering. There’s no way in hell he doesn’t hear/feel Feyre get up, nearly every night to puke her guts out; and girlfriend has to be thrashing in the bed during her nightmares. 

Up until this point… and basically for this whole book, honestly… I don’t hate Tamlin. (Even after ACOWAR, I don’t hate Tamlin). I don’t hate him because SJM clearly put no effort into his character because she had something else geared up. Which is actually unfortunate because I do think if she devoted more time to this guy, the story would’ve been even better. First book, we should’ve been DOWN for Tamlin… we should’ve fallen for the idea of Tamlin and Feyre. They had nothing. There was no yearning for these two. I never even believed they were in love with each other, or even just the idea of each other. I never bought it. This book, there’s still no trying. Maybe starting to make him out to be the bad guy, but it felt like a very weak attempt. Like even his freak out moment in the library, and then leaving Feyre locked up in the manor. This was a major eye roll to me, but I wasn’t like… “OH MY GOD HE’S THE WORST”. Not saying his action were okay, but I still kinda saw where he was coming from. 

I’d say the only time I was actually like “oh come on douche-canoe” is when Tamlin said Feyre wouldn’t be honing her powers. Dude?? She’s gonna be more powerful than you and you don’t think you should consider it? Is it an ego thing?? And then when he said there’s no such thing as a High Lady, but this too, was more like an eye-roll. This just felt like small-minded thinking, ignorance; this one didn’t come off as egotistical or patriarchal, at least to me, it just seemed like something he couldn’t really wrap his mind around. Again, though, plenty of missed opportunities here to make Tamlin either more complex, or truly paint him as our villain, or at least a guy to actually despise. 

I found the wedding day to be a little lame, until Rhys shows up. I just feel like SJM does not try with the Spring Court. She saved all her cards for Night, and it’s just disappointing. Rhys epic arrival… certainly sounds epic. It sounds like it’s written for a big TV or movie moment, though. I feel like I should add something about Ianthe, but she’s just kinda there. She’s for the plot to move along in this book. She’s definitely sus when we meet her in Spring, and we find out why. She does suck as a being, though. 

Night Court… oh so beautiful and lovely, like I said. But I honestly don’t have a preference. We really see the most of Night Court vs. any others. But honestly… all the courts sound lovely. We get snippets of all but I believe Day Court in the next book. Feyre describes them as all very beautiful courts, and all the AI and fanart certainly makes them out to be this way. So I really don’t have a preference here. But our main posse lives in Night, so I mean… we gotta favor Night Court, right?

We do get to go to Summer Court for a bit, which is fun to see. We don’t get too much of Summer Court’s abilities, we see it more so from Feyre’s side I feel like. There’s actually a lot to Prythian that SJM is offering, and I don’t think we’re going to see enough of it. Which makes me sad and disappointed. I get it. There’s enough series, and I get exhausted with series too at times. But I also get frustrated with being so intrigued with a world, but then realize we only get to have snippets. I’m also not finished with the series, so we shall see. 

I l o v e getting to see Feyre start to play with the other powers she inherited from the other courts in this book. They’re on minor display, but I think that works considering she’s just realizing they are there. This stuff is why I really like this series. I’m all about seeing fantasy on display. Hence why I was not here for the smut. If that’s ya’ll’s thing… so be it. It’s definitely here in this book. 

I also want to go off a little bit about Feyre’s tantrum of Rhys not mentioning the mate bond between them. I really did not get any of this. In her POV, she feels like she had been lied to, but I feel like with more than half a brain you realize this isn’t the case? Homeboy was scared. That’s kind of a big deal. Sure, he probably could’ve mentioned it sooner, but I also feel like there would never be a great time to bring that up? It feels daunting. “This is your mate.” Rhys still wanted Feyre to have her own choice… and we learn you can still have a choice in the mating bond, but the mentality of it, ya know? 

Also side note: I’m tired of people complaining about how Rhys is allowing Feyre her space to make her own decisions and people are like “UH YEAH THAT’S THE NORMAL THING TO DO AND HE’S ‘GIVING’ THIS TO HER? AND SHE’S JUST SO GRATEFUL THAT HE ALWAYS ‘ALLOWS’ HER CHOICE?!” ya’ll. be so fucking for real right now. 

As for the Hybern show-down. This was pretty fun and epic. Sisters getting thrown in the Cauldron was v dramatic. And we learn this is where Ianthe betrays Feyre, because she claims that she thought this was what Feyre wanted, for her sisters to be Fae with her. But this is also the point where I went ‘so this is a story where the main character literally gets it all… are we gonna have any true heartbreak?’ Elain, so far, I could without being Fae. Of course Nesta. What Nesta does when becoming High Fae. I. Am. Here. For. It. (I am also here for Nesta’s ‘transformation’ aka ACOSF). 

I didn’t hate the King of Hybern. He’s just all pride. This is fine. He’s a good antagonist, maybe even just an okay one. He’s just brutal is all. But the human Queen’s… them I hate. So SJM did good with that one. Feyre’s spell-breaking and then acting was actually pretty good, I was pleasantly surprised with this bit of the action. And then learning she was High Lady actually did make me a bit giddy.

So yes.. I do agree that it picks up in this one, but this one isn’t my favorite. It comes second to ACOWAR for now as I haven’t finished ACOSF.

[silverdreamscapes]

WHY GW*NRIEL DON’T MAKE SENSE BASED ON THE TIMELINE POST-SOLTICE AND THEIR LAST INTERACTION:

So one of the arguments that I see for Gw*nriel is that after the Solstice scene nothing happened between Elriel, and Gw*nriel is slowly being built up in the background.

First off, that Solstice scene where Elriel share a charged look, takes place at roughly the 80% mark of the book. They don’t share many scenes but there are hints scattered throughout the first 80% of the book, that point to Azriel having romantic feelings for Elain.

Cassian asking Azriel if he wants children someday and Azriel replying it doesn’t matter what he wants

Cassian observing that after 500 years Azriel finally appeared to be over Mor but he couldn’t think why

Elain conveniently no longer being a virgin anymore (which isn’t proof in and of itself but it is interesting when you consider SJM has stated she doesn’t like writing “losing virginity” sex scenes)

Azriel staying away from family dinners

Nesta indicating that Elain may be getting over Graysen

Elriel sharing a charged look

Nesta knowing Azriel’s secret and why he can’t go into the room with Elucien there

Azriel being protective of Elain when Nesta insulted her and his shadows gathering like snakes ready to strike

Azriel becoming increasingly upset when he thinks Nesta hurt Elain

Azriel not wanting Elain exposed to the DT and going “still”, an “out right sign of temper” from him

So for 80% of the book SJM is building up one couple in the background, Elriel. Where in the Bonus it’s confirmed Azriel has feelings for Elain, he’s miserable without her, can’t be in the same room with the mating bond, can’t sleep, fantasizes about her, and goes out of his way to avoid her because it hurts too much to be around her. If Gw*nriel is the very next book why did she waste so much time on building up a different couple for 80% of the book? Did she just forget Gw*nriel was the next book?

Then you have to look at the actual scenes between Gw*n and Azriel post solstice and the timeline of them. There are essentially three scenes that revolve around training and nothing romantic occurs in any of them.

The timeline:

Cassian leaves the day after Solstice. And 3 days later Azriel replaces him in training where he’s more aloof and stone faced than usual

Five days after solstice, Gw*n cuts the ribbon then asks Azriel what they get for finishing the obstacle course (which wouldn’t this be an ideal or interesting time to in some way make a reference to a certain necklace that she may or may not have? Maybe Azriel could have even looked awkward at the mention of a prize/gift? And yet nothing is mentioned)

6 days after solstice, Nesta tells Azriel he’s the new ribbon. (And based on the timing of this line, I find it hard to believe that Nesta was being used as a catalyst to flirt with Azriel on Gw*n’s behalf because she noticed something. Nesta knows he has feelings for Elain and whether the reader thinks those feelings are genuine or not, Nesta believed in them enough to comfort Azriel. If she thought Gw*n had feelings for Azriel knowing he wanted Elain, she would NEVER encourage that IMO)

2 weeks later he congratulates her on qualifying for the BR and Gw*nriel have their last on page interaction at 84% of ACOSF

So based on this timeline, we’re expected to believe that in the span of 5-6 days after Solstice SJM has changed Azriel’s LI from Elain to Gw*n? That a man who spent 500 years in unrequited love with Mor…went from Elain, a woman who did reciprocate his feelings unlike Mor and who gave him a gift he stared at every night for a year, to someone else in such a short period of time? And 3 of those 6 days he was still upset over Elain because Nesta remarks that he’s more stone faced than usual and SJM mentioning that Azriel put rocks in the snowballs during the snowball fight because he was so pissed at Rhys.

Based on the POV we know that Azriel spent 80% of ACOSF wanting Elain. And the big supposed build up for Gw*nriel consisted of 3 scenes and took place from roughly 80-84% of ACOSF and that SJM described in the most generic, vague way possible and all revolved around training which makes sense as he, along with Cassian, is training them. Looking on in “encouragement and admiration” when she cuts the ribbon, dancing shadows when he tells them they won’t beat the course, and “raising his brows in amusement” is not build up for a relationship and doesn’t have nearly the same overt romantic connotations that the Elriel hints do.

Which brings me to the most important point which is the last on page interactions for both Elriel and Gw*nriel. Elriel’s last on page interaction is at 80% and Gw*nriel’s is at 84%, and frankly the difference between the two is insane.

Because this:

Is not the same as this:

Whoever the next couple is in the next book, their last interaction needs to leave an impression on the reader. The Elriel one leaves the reader wondering what’s going on between them. There’s unresolved romantic tension and questions that need to be answered and explored which is then reinforced by the bonus POV.

The Gw*nriel one is…nothing honestly. Which is weird if the image of her smile glowing in his chest is supposed to be significant. Because there’s nothing in their last interaction that tells me as the reader that there is something going on between them or that theirs is a relationship that’s going to be explored further in the next book, unlike Elriel’s. After this scene and this line, they share no more interactions on the page even though months have supposedly passed between this line and the end of the book. Which again, if they’re the next couple and SJM spent 80% of the book dropping Elriel hints, how come Gw*nriel only had 3 scenes immediately after solstice and none of them hint at anything? And we don’t really get any mentions between either of them afterward other than Gw*n talking about Azriel, along with Mor, saving her during her SA (which in no way, shape, or form I would EVER use as the basis or argument for a couple) and Cassian saying to Azriel that both Emerie and Gw*n could be hurt when they were kidnapped. Gw*n’s last scene is with Nesta and Emerie which makes sense as those are her most significant relationships, and then she goes back to the library. But there are no further scenes between Gw*n and Azriel after she qualifies for the BR, 2-3 weeks after Solstice when Elriel nearly kissed and Azriel was ordered to stay away from Elain.

Maybe nothing happened between Elriel after solstice but nothing significant happened between Gw*nriel either. There are no significant moments post-Stolstice that signify to the reader Azriel no longer feels the same way about Elain or that Gw*n is interested or at least infatuated with Azriel. Elriel however, had significant hints and breadcrumbs left throughout most of the book and ended with a romantically charged last scene that leaves the reader wondering what’s happening between them, which honestly Gw*nriel did not get.

[psychee92]

Mating Bonds | A Comparison

Disclaimer: This post will be a long one, so buckle up. As always, if you plan to keep reading, now is the time to take off your shipping goggles. If you’ve read my posts before, you know that I try to stay as objective as possible and stick to textual evidence as often as I can, but this is a post about ships (and we all know that nothing gets people more riled up than ship-centric posts).

Warning: ACOSF and ToG Spoilers

Main points/topics that will be addressed:

Lucien/Elain/Azriel | Lyria/Rowan/Aelin

Lucien and Elain | Rhys’s Parents | Rowan and Lyria

Azriel and Elain | Cassian and Nesta | Rhys and Feyre | Kallias and Viviane

1. Lucien/Elain/Azriel | Lyria/Rowan/Aelin

Note: This post contains a thorough analysis of these scenes—and the author did such a wonderful job explaining everything in detail that I will only go over the scenes briefly.

Lyria and Elain, the flower girls. Both mated to Fae males of high social standing (Rowan is a Prince, Lucien is a High Lord’s son and the heir to the Day Court).

Or are they?

More similarities.

The difficulty both males encountered when courting (or, in Lucien’s case, attempting to court) their mates. The hesitation (or avoidance) of both females.

And more similarities.

Maas uses the exact same words to describe Lyria and Elain, and underlines the fact that neither Rowan nor Lucien would have chosen them (due to a lack of compatibility).

Now, we know that Lyria was not, in fact, Rowan’s mate—that his mate is Aelin. Does this mean that, given all the similarities between the two couples, Elain might not be Lucien’s true mate either?

And how do Elain and Lucien describe their bond?

And who else questions their bond?

Rowan knew, on some deep level, that Aelin was his mate—but had turned away from that knowledge because he thought he already had a mate (Lyria), making a mating bond between him and Aelin impossible. Similarly, Azriel questions the Cauldron’s choice (because he also suspects that Elain might be his mate?).

For me, however, it all comes down to this parallel:

“Given to another.”

Which brings me to my second point:

2. Lucien and Elain | Rhys’s Parents | Rowan and Lyria

Let’s take a look at how the bond snapped into place for Rowan and Lyria:

Rhysand’s parents:

Lucien and Elain:

Three mating bonds, all falling into place at first sight. They took one look at their mates and knew. 

Rhysand’s parents were mentioned a few times throughout ACOSF, as was their mating bond. The similarities between their relationship and the current state of Lucien and Elain’s relationship are worth noting:

Two mating bonds, both unhappy.

We do, however, have evidence of successful mating bonds in the ACOTAR series.

3. Cassian and Nesta | Rhys and Feyre | Kallias and Viviane

Let’s look at how (and when) the mating bond snapped into place for them:

Now, let’s draw some parallels between these three couples and Azriel and Elain:

1. The Cauldron is somehow involved (it sent Rhys dreams of Feyre; it chose Lucien for Elain—making Azriel question that choice).

2. On some level, they all suspected. Rhys and Cassian when they first met Feyre and Nesta; Viviane when Kallias was UTM.

3. Something physical took place between the couples, which either confirmed their suspicions, or made the bond lock into place. For Cassian, it was when they first kissed. For Rhys, it was when Feyre was dying. For Kallias and Viviane, during their first night together.

(Similarly, Rowan and Aelin both knew—or suspected—that they were mates when the other was in danger or hurt).

In Azriel and Elain’s case, we have:

The Cauldron’s direct involvement

Again, that word—“get”, “given”.

Suspicion/questioning 

An almost kiss

If Cassian’s suspicions about him and Nesta’s mating bond were confirmed when they first kissed, would Azriel’s have been, as well?

If Viviane’s suspicions about her and Kallias’s mating bond were confirmed during their first night together, will Azriel’s be, too?

If Rhysand knew with absolute certainty that Feyre was his mate as she was dying, would Azriel have felt the same if he would not have been near death, as well?

Could I be wrong? Yes, of course. We have yet to get Elain’s POV, so we do not know how she experiences the mating bond (and if she feels a pull towards Azriel, as well). Similarly, while we did get bits and pieces of Lucien’s POV, it’s not enough to determine his own experiences with and feelings towards the mating bond.

On the other hand, could the “Azriel and Elain are mates” theory be true? Also yes. The parallels between Lyria/Rowan/Aelin and Lucien/Elain/Azriel are undeniable (not to mention the fact that Aelin and Elain have the exact same name, just spelled differently—it even sounds almost identical when said out loud!—and they both share the same scent, jasmine). Similarly, the parallels between Rhysand’s parents and Lucien and Elain should not be overlooked—SJM mentioned their “miserable” mating bond in ACOSF for a reason.

What I do know with absolute certainty, however, is that we are in for an epic twist—SJM-style.

[helion-ism]

I despise it when people say Lucien or Azriel deserve better than Elain, or when they belittle her and refer to her as the "third one," which by the way is azriel's fault .Listen, I understand people saying Lucien deserves better than the way elain treats him because he does, or that azriel and Lucien deserve happiness, but to say they deserve better than elain is trash. I saw someone say the other day that "if you ship elain with Lucien or Azriel, you're not normal because elain deserves to be with tamlin, someone who is as empty as she is” and I sat down and asked myself what really has elain done that makes her not deserving of a "guy" in comparison to the other characters in this series. Yes she's a silent bitch, she's self-centered, she's passive aggressive, and so on that's the definition of flawed it's not her fault that SJM hasn't developed her like the other characters in this series , so that people can see past her flaws like they do for others. Moreover,every character in this book has a flaw, with the exception of Gwyn and Emerie, and that's because their page time has only been for one book . Bet me and see that when they become the main focus, they'll have flaws just as bad as Azriel, Cassian, Nesta, Rhys, Ferye, Mor, Helion, and even the Suriel and Lucien, who happen to be my favorite characters, because that's how SJM writes her characters they’re all morally gray in some way, so does that mean they don’t deserve love or are underserving of another person or does that only apply to elain? (Sorry if this was long. I just read your post and needed to vent because as an elucien is really annoying seeing people say elain doesn’t deserve love.)

‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

I love you, anon

no, but fr. I agree with you. I absolutely hate when people start saying things like "this and this person deserves better than elain" (especially when they talk about azriel in this context lmao)

lucien and elain both have their problems, which they need to sort out before they can move on and have a healthy relationship, that much is clear. lucien was at fault for siding with tamlin for so long, which again is understandable to some extent imo. elain is at fault for pretending to not care, but as I said, she's going through stuff at the moment. and I have to add that I understand from sjm's point of view that she must continue keeping up this distance between them until we actually get to their story. I understand that she wants to do it chronologically, and I'm absolutely fine with it. it just sucks that beloved characters have to suffer for some time.

(side note: people who say elain deserves to be with tamlin, I actually have no words for you. but if you choose to be miserable, then go ahead.)

Yes she's a silent bitch, she's self-centered, she's passive aggressive, and so on that's the definition of flawed it's not her fault that SJM hasn't developed her like the other characters in this series , so that people can see past her flaws like they do for others.

you're absolutely right, she's not as developed as other characters, and a part of that is the fact that we will still get her pov and her book. does that mean we couldn't have gotten slightly more personality? no, I also wish we could've learned more about her, but acosf gave us some hints at what is going on with her already: she still doesn't seem to be completely happy at the night court, she still hasn't accepted her new fate, she still doesn't really try to be a member of the group, but at least she found herself some kind of job to do. we also saw her come out of her shell for a moment. but acosf was nesta's story, and so I'm not mad at all that we didn't focus on elain "enough". elain will have her time to shine, too.

also, you speaking about flaws is something that I think many people tend to forget? every character has flaws, as you said. feyre has flaws, helion has flaws, nesta has flaws, cassian has flaws. this makes them more believable and realistic. it makes the story more compelling. of course gwyn and emerie have flaws, too, but that's not a bad thing.

they’re all morally gray in some way, so does that mean they don’t deserve love or are underserving of another person or does that only apply to elain?

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[separatist-apologist]

I think I started to hate cassian after deleted chapter. Before that I just disliked him. He doesn’t act like a mate he was sadistic to nesta just because she slept with anyone but him. Which is hypocritical because he and mor basically rub their connection in her face. Not to mention his POV was pure lust I didn’t see love at all. Hell at end he doesn’t want to do official mating ceremony and seems embarrassed of her. I can get behind a shit person ( like cruel prince) but cassian I can never because he took pleasure in being sadistic to the max. He even acted like he was going to attack her over her talking about rhys. Nesta’s self respect vanished in book she would of slept with a village just to spite him not fall him his lap

Oof, it really is a no-Cassian appreciation day. I agree, though. I genuinely think Cassian did not like Nesta but DID like the mating bond. Or was compelled to be with her because of it. His POV is so telling because at times he does seem to care if she's miserable...but never enough to like...confess that he loves her. When she's taken by the bog creature (i forget what it's called), he has a moment of panic where he's like, if she's dead I don't know what I'll do but he doesn't follow that up with, "because I'm so in love with her I'd die without her" and it gives the sense that it's the bond driving him and not his personal feelings.

I said it before but I'll say it again. ACOSF definitely made it seem like Cassian did not think Nesta was worthy of him, and "getting" the high born lady as the low born bastard (after dragging her down to his perceived level) was part of what he enjoyed. I think Cassian enjoyed getting Eris back by getting the woman Eris wanted because Eris kept making Cassian feel stupid (which, was a lot of Cassian's own insecurities. I don't think Eris was trying very hard to make Cassian look dumb, Eris was just...treating Cassian like he would have treated ANYONE representing their High Lords political agenda and Cassian, who has his own insecurities, projected that onto everyone around him. Like imagine if Cassian had just shrugged like, okay and? and just met Eris where he was. Eris would have still been Eris of course but it would have rolled off Cassian's back).

The hiking scene is the big no for me. He doesn't speak to her for days??? He's a 500 year old athlete that doesn't recognize the signs of exhaustion? Doesn't care if she doesn't eat/drink? Makes her, untrained, carry their heavy pack? And then when she breaks down he's like, "me, my trauma, you belong to me."

The bad outweighs his moments of sweetness and the mating scene, where he screaming at her in public to acknowledge their bond while she's desperately trying to make him understand how she's afraid to because it's her last shred of humanity stripped away is just...no.

[gracie-rosee]

Nesta and Azriel's friendship

Because this is not talked about enough. I love the relationship Nesta and Az have and especially in Acosf. I think Nesta is definitely going to play a vital part in Azriel's story because of her connection to Elain and her ability to see through everybody's bullshit.

One of the main reasons Azriel and Nesta's friendship is probably my favorite relationship is because they understand each other. Take a look at these parts from acosf:

At the solstice party, Azriel lingers by the door the whole time and Nesta is the only one to approach him. (because she knows why).

Elain is sitting by the fire. In the Azriel pov we find out that Az stands by the door in case he "needs to make a quick exit" because my poor love sick bat boy can't stand the scent of Elain and Lucien's mating bond.

Nesta understands this. She sees right through him:

They have a quiet, unspoken understanding between them. "His secret to tell, never hers."

This scene is really important because it really shows the difference between Azriel's relationship with Nesta and his relationship with Rhys and the IC.

Rhys cannot mind his own fucking business. He sees Az and Elain look at each other for more than a minute and he goes into feral dad mode™

With Nesta however, she is completely aware of something going on between Azriel and Elain and she chooses to let him know she understands and let them figure it out on their own. I really hope to see this quiet companionship between them grow. And with Rhys basically forbidding Az from seeing Elain, he would have to seek Nesta out if he wanted to see how Elain is. (Since you know this lovesick puppy isn't just going to give up on Elain that easily).

So yeah, they understand they both have things troubling them, but they don't force each other to talk about it. They respect each other.

Azriel also understands Nesta:

Towards the beginning of acosf, Nesta refuses to train at the Illyrian camp. Azriel understands this.

"Like he saw everything in her head. Her bruised heart." - That's because he does. Azriel despises the Illyrian camp. He understands that she doesn't want to train in that miserable village.

I could go on and on about these two. There are many more examples of their friendship throughout the series, but tumblr doesn't let you add many pictures and I wanted to have space to show my favorite Nesta x Azriel brotp moments.

Nesta and Azriel sharing the same sense of humor (teasing Cassian):

Azriel's laughter is my favorite. I love this bat boy with my whole heart.

And my FAVORITE SCENE:

Seriously, this scene is NOT talked about enough. I will bring it up in every conversation.

Nesta and Azriel hugged!

Nesta and Azriel hugged!

Nesta and Azriel hugged!!!

Az and Nesta are besties and you cant convince me otherwise.

Let me remind you: Azriel isn't a hugger. When have you ever seen him hug anyone else? Hell, he didn't even hug Feyre or Rhys when they found out she was pregnant. He kissed her forehead and that's it. But he full on hugged Nesta. I know I'm overreacting but just shut up and let me have this, okay? I have waited so long for a Nesta x Azriel brotp.

And he blushed. Okay I'm officially melting. I love them so fucking much.

Let me curl into a ball and hold these two close to my heart.

[arinbelle]

A Court of Witches and Warriors

Notes: Hello lovelies. I hope everyone’s been doing well. I took forever on this update because I kept debating how I wanted to break up each chapter with the POVs. Some things I really want Nesta to see and other things I want her to be narrating. That’s all the messages I have. Enjoy!

~*~

Chapter 17-Nesta

Nesta wasn’t one to easily panic. 

Growing up under the tutelage of her mother and then her grandmother had been more than enough preparation for staying calm under pressure. She was used to remarks on her bent back during sitting and face that was just too pallid and skinny for her Grandmamma’s tastes. Her mother’s own remarks on Nesta’s curious mind had been more than effective in teaching Nesta to think as much as she’d like- but never open her mouth.

Men in general, Nesta had learned, didn’t appreciate being corrected or called out on their wrongdoings. Especially by a woman.

Cassian though, didn’t fall into that particular category of male. He tended to enjoy every time she corrected him. Or called him out. Or both. 

But she didn’t have time to think about how Cassian was a blessing to have in her life. Not at the present moment.

Half of the dinner was burnt. The other half was still sitting on the counter, waiting to be cooked, cut or assembled. There was no way Nesta was going to be able to put the meal together by the time Feyre and her mate showed up.

Perhaps it would be for the better. This strange behavior she was exhibiting, some faked cheeriness at showing that she was fine. Better even. For what, for who, she didn’t know. Why she was trying so hard for a sister who hadn’t written to her, hadn’t deigned to visit in months, Nesta didn’t know.

But a small voice in her head rose up and chided her too. When had Nesta sent out a letter of her own, save for the few weakly written ones to Elain? When had Nesta ever made the effort to Feyre, to their relationship, especially after the war?

Never. You never tried either.

She’d been happy to be miserable and alone, content with only her rage and vitriol as fuel since she refused to eat real food for sustenance. Even when living here in Illyria with Cassian, grateful for the distance even if she wondered everyday how her sisters were faring now that she wasn’t imposing on them.

Now the time had come for their reunion, and Nesta wasn’t sure how to go about it. Cassian had mentioned he could take the day off to cook for all of them, but Nesta had politely refused. Practically pushing him out the door that morning as he attended yet another meeting with the war lords, assuring him that she could manage to make a dinner for one night.

Which, she could actually. She’d done it before and quite well the last few months. Under Cassian’s careful eye, explaining the differences between the spices in his cabinet, teaching her how to cut with the monstrously large knife he used, and how to sear versus bake versus boil versus fry. It had been a long, arduous process in making sure she didn’t burn the house down. But now, Nesta was quite good at cooking. Almost as good as Cassian but every time she tried to get him to admit it, he’d smile at her in a way that made her legs want to buckle, kiss her fondly on the temple and leave.

No matter, she always told herself. One day, she would get him to cave in and admit her newfound skills in the kitchen. Evidently, that day was not today, because today she’d be better off throwing everything into one pot and turning on the flame, if only to say there was something to eat.

She was cutting up the raw vegetables for the salad when Cassian’s wings sounded outside the house, and the tell-tale creak of the door opening told her he was home.

Not wanting to look him in the eyes when he would enter the kitchen, and see everything utterly falling apart, Nesta kept her head down, cutting up a storm under her knife.

To her relief, Cassian said nothing as he entered, her back still to him. Not one word on how the meat should have been cooked hours ago to let it become tender and edible as he rounded the counter and washed his hands at the sink. He’d already discarded his weapons and changed out of his leathers into a white tunic and pants fit for a casual night in. Nothing about him boasted of the General who had seen centuries of battle and was capable of killing someone with just his bare hands.

She was grateful he looked so laid back. If nothing else could calm her fraying nerves, Cassian at the very least, still could.

“How is it going?,” he asked, opening up the icebox and browsing for far too long to be just casual.

Nesta sighed in defeat. Of course. He knew but was too kind to ask outright.

“You know how,” she finally admitted quietly. After the silence has stretched out too long for her to stomach and Cassian was still staring at the same spot in the icebox without moving.

Cassian turned to look at her over his shoulder and gave her a small grin. Nesta gave him a scowl.

“Go bother someone else bat, I’m not in the mood for your games.”

Nesta turned back to her work, ignoring Cassian slowly creeping towards her.

“Cassian…,” Nesta warned softly, not wanting to be disturbed in anyway that could hamper her already late progress into preparing dinner.

Cassian’s arms wrapped around her waist without warning and a strong, warm chest met her back as he pulled her towards him. A kiss was dropped on the slope of her neck. Once. Twice.

“But I do love our little games. In fact, we should play-“

Nesta dropped her knife for the wooden stirring spoon instead, and thwacked Cassian’s hand before it could slide lower than her stomach. She reigned in the laughter as he yelped and tripped back, cursing and clutching the hand to his chest.

Nesta turned to look at him over her shoulder, grinning. This time, Cassian gave her a scowl of his own.

She couldn’t help but laugh then. Not as he pouted at her ruining his fun and not at the feigned hurt he was showing off to her.

Her laughter quickly faded as she noticed his expression. There had been a tightness in his features, in the set of his shoulders, but she did not have the chance to ask him what it was about. He was out of the door faster than she could inquire about what had happened at his meeting.

She would have to remember to ask later.

“Such a tease, witchling,” he had muttered as he left her in the kitchen.

~*~

To Nesta’s relief, Feyre and Rhysand were running late to dinner after an overdue visit to the Hewn City had caused them to delay. Cassian had read her the note as she’d been seconds away from breaking down over her ruined, burnt bread. It had come at the perfect time, and for her sake, it had also meant that she was able to finish the dinner in time and even earlier than expected.

She looked at the clock on the mantle as she washed her hands and made her way to the sitting room. Still some time left according to its hands. 

Cassian was casually situated on the sofa, flipping through a book of hers that she’d left lying around. He’d come back to her after apparently nursing his hand back to health, insisting he help her finish. She hadn’t missed the double entendre in his words which had prompted her to lift the spoon at him, in warning again.

Cassian had quickly found somewhere else to be right after that.

“Interesting reading choice you have here,” he told her as she entered the room, eyes never once straying from the pages of the worn paperback that she’d borrowed from Emerie. “You and your friend actually. One hell of a genre you two have picked.”

Nesta peeked a look at the cover that she could barely see on Cassian’s lap.

Red, black, some sort of hand…no, hands- there were multiple Fae drawn on the cover. Nesta’s cheeks heated as she realized which book Cassian had picked up. A horribly written book that Emerie had laughed herself hoarse handing over to her, warning that it was too erotic even for her. There had been no plot. There had been no true characterization of any of the protagonists save for one shared trait.

All five males in the book found the female heroine to be devastatingly gorgeous, and more importantly, the only object of their lust. Nesta was no stranger to erotica and her “ridiculous smut” as Cassian fondly called it, but the book had her pausing every few chapters with just how profane it could get. Especially when the female in the book had taken all five males to her bed.

At the same time.

“There’s no way that’s physically possible,” Cassian muttered to himself as he flipped the page, a small frown making its way onto his face.

“Maybe it is,” Nesta said as she sat down beside him, tucking her legs under herself and leaning close enough to read the page where he was at.

Just as she’d suspected. The scene where all six Fae were on the bed and pleasuring the female.

“It’s not,” he murmured.

Nesta narrowed her eyes at him, wondering how the hell he would even know.

“And you know this because…”

Cassian still wasn’t looking away from the book. “Because I know,” he insisted distractedly, “ You can’t do it like this with these many people. You need to- “

Cassian cut himself off and looked at her now, wide-eyed and alarmed. Snapping the book shut with an audible slap, he threw it to the side of the sofa and opened his mouth to say something. Likely something to distract her. But that would not do at all.

Nesta raised an eyebrow in warning. “Don’t you dare. Finish the sentence. You need to do what?”

“Nothing.” He rushed the word out, almost in a panic at what he’d suggested.

Nesta didn’t appreciate the roaring in her ears at what he’d insinuated. At what it indicated he knew and had done with his previous bedmates that she had no intention of learning about.

It shouldn’t have bothered her the way it did. Cassian had lived much longer than her. If her own past of bedmates was any indication, along with how Cassian liked to flirt and was more experienced than even her, it shouldn’t have surprised her as much as it did. And it definitely shouldn’t have upset her.

But it did.

Something about another female’s hands on his body, of him insider her, didn’t sit well with Nesta. Whatever discontent or other turbulent emotions she was experiencing must have appeared somewhat on her face, because Cassian looked at her with sympathy. Made to move forward and hold her, except she wouldn’t have that either.

“Don’t.” Another warning given to him. How many was that all in the space of a few hours?

Cassian seemed to be holding off a smile, and failing miserably as a small chuckle escaped his lips.

“Don’t laugh!”

“I’m not,” Cassian insisted.

Then he laughed, the prick.

“Nesta,” he consoled her softly, one of his hands finding its way to the bottom of her braid, undoing the tie and pulling her hair free. Nesta tried not to lean into his touch, but there was only so much she could hold off against when it came to Cassian.

He finished unwrapping her braid, gently carding through the strands until they fell in soft waves down her front. “That was a long time ago,” he told her gently. “I haven’t taken anyone to bed before you in almost two years.”

Shock faintly registered in her system. That and relief. And yes, perhaps a bit of smug contentedness as well, although that wasn’t really fair.

Nesta finally deigned to meet his eyes. Honest and open and utterly truthful.

“Why?,” she asked hoarsely, fearing the answer she already knew deep down.

Cassian said simply, “Because I knew, from the moment I met you, you were all I wanted. There would be no one else for me. It would be pointless to try and replace you with someone else for just a few moments of fleeting pleasure.”

She knew he was being truthful again, because she had felt the same. From the moment she’d seen him swagger into her home as a human, the moment he’d picked a fight with her across the dinner table, all her thoughts had narrowed into one name only.

Cassian.

He was all she ever thought about, even weeks after he’d left her with her sister and his brothers in tow. Then he’d shown up again, kissed her neck and almost kissed her, and she had almost let him. Almost let him kiss her, definitely would have kissed him back, and perhaps even everything else her body had been yearning to do with him from the moment he’d narrowed his eyes at her with that predator intent. 

He’d made her his prey and she’d been a willing victim every step afterwards. It made it easier to fall for him when he let her do the same to him. Let her take control and push his boundaries as much as she liked. Sometimes she’d brush herself against him as she walked by in the House of Wind, when Feyre had been acting as spy in the Spring Court. One time he’d asked her to join him in training when he’d noticed her not so veiled antics at watching him move. Shirtless and skin glistening in sweat. Perhaps she had been a bit too obvious, now that she thought about it.

But she’d told him no, and in a rare moment of bravery, even added on that she’d rather enjoy the view from afar.

He’d gone still for a moment at the compliment that was really just horrible flirting on her part. And then, he had laughed. Loudly and carefree and utterly amused at her. Nesta had made the jokester of her sister’s little group, the funniest of the brothers and the most annoying, witty, infuriatingly handsome male she’d ever encountered laugh.

Her.

The satisfaction at the small victory had been short-lived as Cassian had prompted her to join him anyways, insisting that the view of them together would be even more enjoyable. His emphasis on the words together had left her feeling strangely hot, even all the way up in the House where it was more than chilly with all the winds around them. That had been almost two years ago and only now were she and Cassian back into some semblance of that easygoing relationship they’d once had.

Nesta cleared her throat. “I understand,” she told him softly.

Nothing more was needed to explain between them, she knew that, and yet, a part of her yearned to do more. Explain why she’d pushed him away and taken all those strangers to bed, ignoring him.

He knew she’d done it to quell her powers. That was a part of it. But she hadn’t told him how she had wanted to also stay away for her sanity’s sake. How she knew she would never measure up, would never be worthy of being by his side, let alone being his.

She’d been saving herself heartbreak, but it was evident from the look on Cassian’s face, the one he was trying to conceal, it wasn’t her heart alone that had suffered hurt.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she whispered, looking down in her lap instead of the face of the male that she’d fallen for years ago.

Cassian’s fingers were cool as they wrapped under her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. Nothing but kindness could be seen on his face.

“I know sweetheart. Don’t worry about that anymore. I never held that against you. I think I was just more worried you’d end up somewhere dangerous or in trouble.”

Of course he did. When had he ever not worried about her? Cared about her, even when all she could manage to do was push him away him more insults than should have been allowed?

Never.

Cassian had always been there for her when she’d allowed it. He’d even tried when she hadn’t, and she also couldn’t hold it against him for backing off when she never returned his advances.

“Cassian I-”

The knock on the door sounded three times in quick succession and Cassian was already up, brushing a kiss over her forehead before making his way to the hallway.

Nesta wasn’t ready. Not at all. She hadn’t had time to prepare herself for this visit. Not emotionally and certainly not when she’d been seconds away from baring her heart out fully to Cassian. The confession that had wormed its way up to her mouth before she could even think to stop it, already parting her lips to say the damning words about who he was to her. Who they had been from the moment he’d locked eyes with her.

The knocks on the door could have been a blessing or a curse. Nesta wasn’t sure which it would be just yet.

It was Feyre who Nesta saw first. 

She could hear the males still by the door, teasing already, cracking their jokes at each other. But Feyre had squealed when she’d entered, and Nesta had made out the faint noise of two beings colliding, likely Feyre having run at Cassian into a tight hug, which Nesta knew from experience, felt like all things good in the world.

And now Feyre was here, in front of her, a small smile already on her face as she beheld her.

Nesta didn’t know what to do. Not with her hands which had begun wringing together of their own accord, nor what to do with her body, which felt oddly disjointed and unable to move.

“Hello,” Feyre said with yet another smile. Tentative yet warm. 

Nesta took a deep breath, steadying herself, her mind.

“Hello Feyre.”

~*~

To Nesta’s surprise, dinner went surprisingly well. Feyre had exclaimed over the fact that Nesta had made all the food by herself. She’d loved it even more when she’d tasted it and decided that she would need the recipe or someway to be able to eat all of Nesta’s cooking again.

Pleased as she was, it reminded her of how far away they all were from each other. Not just in their relationship but physically as well. She didn’t dwell too long on the thought of how, discounting the dinner with Feyre, she hadn’t seen either of her sisters in months. How living in Illyria permanently would only add to that time.

Instead, Nesta distracted herself with cutting a slice of vanilla cake for everyone, as they’d just finished up with dinner. 

The conversation had been pleasantly mundane. Cassian and Rhysand spoke of random aspects of the military, mentioning the Shadowsinger’s duties or recent findings every few minutes. Feyre spoke to both Cassian and Nesta, alternating and asking about the most inane things to more detailed, nuanced aspects of how life in Illyria ran.

Rhysand did not speak to Nesta and Nesta was more than content to keep it that way.

Save for the uncomfortable “hello” she’d given to him as he’d entered the living room, and he giving her a cold one back, they had not spoken to each other at all.

If Feyre noticed she didn’t say anything about it. Cassian did not force Nesta to say more than what she was already offering, and for that, she was grateful.

“So, Nesta, how has training been going?,” Feyre asked after a few bites of the cake, which she’d already told them twice, she loved.

Nesta quickly chewed her piece and swallowed, almost choking in her rush to respond. “Good. Training’s been...good.”

Feyre looked at her across the dining table expectantly but Nesta was at a loss for words. Should she explain how during her first few weeks she’d outright refused to train with Cassian? Only the near attack she’d narrowly survived had been what had spurred her on to seek out Cassian’s help? Or perhaps Feyre wanted to know about Nesta’s witch magic. That was definitely not something she was ready to talk about.

Thankfully, Cassian chose to swoop in after a few moments of uncomfortable silence and began recounting some training stories with Nesta and her friends.

“She’s damn good with anything sharp. I shouldn’t be so surprised, but she’s learns so fast and her grasp of technique is ten times stronger than yours and mine was when we first started out.”

Cassian was talking to Rhysand, Nesta realized, recounting their own training from centuries prior.

An innocent enough statement she thought, but judging from the look on the High Lord’s face, the wrong thing to say.

Rhysand settled his night-flecked gaze on Nesta, leveling a stare so riddled with ire on her, she almost pulled away into her chair, if only to escape his wrath.

She’d never been one to cow away from those who sought to intimidate her. Certainly not from men who were too focused on making her feel less than them instead of their own issues.

“So,” the High Lord’s cruel voice filled the small room, “you’re telling me she’s capable of being a warrior, actually excels at it, but she couldn’t be bothered to go out and take care of her family when they needed her most.”

Nesta stopped breathing.

The entire world stopped breathing. Cassian had gone still beside her, Feyre looked at her mate, horrified and quiet.

Nesta didn’t know what to say. What to do. Months ago, she’d sat in his office in the riverfront estate and had put on a grand show of being unaffected by her past actions. 

What should she do? What could she do? 

There was no way to respond, and any response wasn't going to be good enough anyways. Because everyone in the room knew of Nesta's failings. As a sister. As a daughter. But that had been unspoken, only discussed without her in the room in hushed, hurried whispers. What the hell was she supposed to do when it was a direct call out like this? 

She felt shame flood through her as she noted Cassian's shock still silence beside her as well. He too had told her the truth to her face, unabashed, when they'd first met. Of how she'd let Feyre hunt and take care of the family. In her rage. And in her cowardice. How Cassian could stand to be with her- she didn't understand. It was that horrible realization, that Cassian had seen this attack, and even he knew he couldn't defend her against it which had tears pricking her eyes. 

But she'd be damned if she let anyone in the room see her cry after Rhysand's comment.

Nesta shot up out of her chair before anyone could say anything more. Before she could see the look of disappointment on either Cassian or Feyre’s faces as they would all remember again all that Nesta had committed and failed to do. Had failed to be.

Cassian may have called after her but she barely registered it. A roaring had taken over in her ears. The only thing that broke it was the slamming of her bedroom door as she ran inside the room, effectively blocking out the chaos outside.

She didn’t want to hear what was being said about her, not as they discussed just how horrid she had been, perhaps would always be. She definitely didn’t want to hear Cassian agree as he realized that no matter whatever faked domestic bliss they were living in together, Nesta was not who he deserved to be with. Not at all worth his time or energy.

But no matter what Nesta wanted, it would seem life still did not care for her wishes. Damned Fae senses and all the other bullshit that came with this new immortal life still hadn’t prepared her for just how well her hearing and eyesight had become. She could faintly make out every word being uttered downstairs in the dining room, even as she began softly crying, clamping a hand over her mouth to keep the sound to herself.

Feyre was shrieking.

“...the hell is the matter with you? You promised me Rhys. You promised me a good night. She wasn’t even talking to you.”

Rhysand’s cool answer had half of Nesta wanting to run out of the room and slap him for good measure. If she stopped crying in time, she may even accomplish it. “You mean she couldn’t be bothered to speak to me. She hates me but I’m not allowed to ask her about something that isn’t even a lie? She was horrible to you, for years. Hateful and unappreciative and she made you miserable. I love you too much to excuse that. She’s hurt you. I won’t apologize for treating her exactly how she treated you.”

What Rhysand had said about her...

It broke something that she’d barely held together for years. The realization that everyone agreed with what Nesta had always known about herself. That Feyre had been miserable because of Nesta, that Nesta was hateful and cruel and a monster...

All truth and all of it snapped the small restraint Nesta had kept on herself, Without warning, to her own horror, Nesta began sobbing in earnest, unable to hold in any sound. It was too much, all too much, all at once. The visit, the unexpectedness, Feyre, her mate, his words- all of it was just too much.

More and more that anger at herself, that deep, rending hatred flowed out from deep in her breast, unraveling and entering her heart, where she’d fought for so many months now to keep away. But it didn’t matter what ever façade she’d been running towards stealing. No matter how much she stayed in Cassian’s home, stayed in his arms each night or kissed him awake in the morning, the truth could not be changed or avoided. And the truth of who she was was more damning than the Cauldron had ever been.

Nesta was cruel.

Nesta was hateful.

Nesta was a monster and she deserved nothing and no one’s mercy. 

There was no forgiveness in store for her and she’d been a fool to secretly hope for it.

Had she not had her Fae senses still trained on the dining room downstairs, the sound of her own crying may have drowned out the sound that came as a shock to her senses.

Cassian’s snarl reverberated through the house, echoing through the walls and vibrating in the floor beneath her. Even if she weren’t sitting on the floor of her bedroom, her head between her knees, she had a feeling she would have heard the sound of fury that Cassian had unleashed because it was too strong to ignore.

So were his words.

“Get out.”

They were guttural, primal, and some small part of her, some more base instinct that didn’t understand Cassian was never a threat to Nesta, began screaming at her to run too. Because the male in the floor below her was dangerous and on the edge.

Rhysand drawled out to answer, but she could make out the faintest hint of shock and perhaps even fear. She couldn’t be sure. “What do you mean, Cass?”

Another snarl, this one with more bite. She could hear shuffling going on, as if Feyre were situating herself between the two males.

“I said, get out. Get out of my house. You don’t get to come in here and insult her in her own fucking home. You sure as fuck don’t get to make her cry here. This is her home, not yours. You don’t have that right here, this isn’t Velaris. So before you piss me off even more and I rip your throat out for talking to Nesta that way, get out.”

A moment of shocked silence followed. 

Nesta wasn’t sure if she could still breathe properly, perhaps from the crying or perhaps from Cassian’s threat in her defense. After a few seconds Cassian quietly added that Feyre was welcome to stay as long as she liked. Not to her surprise of course, both the guest Fae left right after in a whisper of wind that rippled through the house like stars bursting.

The roaring that had once been in her ears, soon replaced with the sound of her gasping sobs, had now all quieted down into complete silence. Deep and endless, Nesta would have savored the peace of such quiet on any other night. Would have relished in it’s soothing presence to wrap her up in as she lay in bed, waiting for sleep to find her. Now it only added to the misery of her loud thoughts.

It didn’t take long for steps to thud along the stairwell, making their way closer towards her at a leisurely pace.

Nesta kept her eyes shut either way. Kept her forehead firmly knocked against her knees, tears still streaming quietly down her face. It was the only thing saving her from embarrassment- that she may be still be crying, but at least it was no longer the sounds that Cassian had already heard not too long ago. 

He halted outside her door and she wondered if he was debating entering at all. She wouldn’t blame him if he did. It wasn’t as if she were worth the effort anyways.

When Cassian did enter he did not speak. He barely made any noise at all, even when he sat down beside her, shoulders brushing her side in quiet support. Why he wanted to be here for the mess she’d become, she didn’t know.

All she knew was that Cassian stayed.

It may have been a few minutes later, or eternity, but eventually Nesta realized she could not stay hidden forever. Slowly, perhaps because her body was still attuned to her own fears, she turned her head to peer towards her side. She’d stopped crying a while ago, but it had felt good to simply breathe with her head down and eyes closed. Breathe and listen to Cassian’s sure heartbeat beside her, allowing her breath to sync with his own until all she knew was calmness.

Cassian was watching her wearily, and she wondered if he would ask her why she’d been such a cruel beast as a human. Then she wondered if that monster still lived in her. The fact that she had only cried for herself for the past hour and not at all for Feyre and how it must have affected her, told Nesta all she needed to know on how good a person she was.

The answer was not at all. Nesta had no shred of dignity or kindness left in her. Perhaps she never had.

Cassian was still looking at her, and after a few minutes he stretched out his arm, placing his palm out to her. For her to grasp. To take in his shelter and care and solid strength as he would always offer her. But Nesta didn’t deserve that kindness. Nor his pity or his concern.

Perhaps this was what the price was meant to be. To hurt for all the things she had done and the many more that she hadn’t. But deep down, Nesta knew she hadn’t suffered enough, considering she was still breathing.

She did not take Cassian’s hand. She never would.

~*~

Nesta hadn’t needed to tell Cassian to go away. To take his empathy and outstretched hand and just leave her be. But he did as she wanted anyways.

After she’d turned her head back down onto her knees, curling back into herself, she had heard Cassian pull back. Heard him get up after a few more minutes ticked by. He’d left her silently, giving her the peace she needed. The only comfort he’d offered, the only one she had partially allowed, was a small brushing of his lips at the back of her neck. That and softly murmured words that were asking her to eat soon, sleep soon, and find him in their room if she needed.

Nesta had not replied. She had not gone back downstairs to finish dinner and she definitely didn’t go back to bed with him.

Instead, Nesta had stayed on the ground for however long it had taken for the unbearable ache to settle into her body at the bent position. Only then had she been bothered enough to move to her bed, sore and stiff, and lay awake, staring up at her ceiling. She’d drifted off to sleep sometime during sunrise, the gentle rays pulling her in and out of a half-sleep that only ebbed when a familiar male scent filled the room and a darkness took over around her.

When she woke again, at midday according to her clock, the curtains had been drawn tight at the windows, not allowing any light from the outside world to permeate in. It had also effectively let her sleep in for a few more hours. Cassian and his thoughtfulness may very well end her.

Cassian was not in the house- she could tell that much. She didn’t hear him as she bathed, nor as she ate a tasteless breakfast of oatmeal and scrambled eggs without him.

It wasn’t until she put on her leathers, determined to go on a run for some time to clear her head-and possibly ignore the previous night’s disaster- that she heard him come home.

Nesta stopped short as he opened the door and beheld her about to leave through it.

“Oh good, you’re ready. We can go now then.”

Cassian stepped away from the doorway, motioning for her to get out.

Nesta’s spine locked up. “Go where?” 

She had no plans of going anywhere with him. She didn’t think she could bear to face him for any longer than she already had, let alone spend time with him.

Cassian paid no attention to her brusque tone, nor the set of her shoulders or crossed arms, already bracing for an argument. “I have to do some work in the forest. You’re coming with me. Take some of the knives over there.” He pointed to her left where Cassian often kept a variety of weapons polished and ready to go.

“Why?”

Cassian didn’t answer, instead stepping back over the threshold and picking out a few daggers and a short sword. He silently handed the sword to her, tucking the daggers into the holster on her left thigh. 

His lips narrowed in mild irritation when Nesta made no movement forward. She knew her refusal to listen was setting him on edge- no matter how patient he was trying to be with her.

Good. Let him see how horrible she was. Let him know that it didn’t matter how much he wanted to pretend and ignore all that she was capable of, she would never be what he wanted or needed.

Cassian stepped back out the door, looking at her expectantly. Waiting for her.

Nesta instead turned on her heel and made to go back to her room. She was going to take off the leathers, screw the run, and instead simmer in whatever new rage she could concoct against her sister and the High Lord.

“Oh no you don’t,” Cassian growled from behind her. An arm shot out and wrapped around her waist, stopping her progress.

Nesta hissed at the nerve. She moved on instinct then, grabbing his wrist and twisting her torso. Cassian’s hold on her dropped as he grunted at her disarming maneuver. Dropping the sword to the ground with a clang she turned back around.

But this wasn’t Cilla or Delani or even Taliq. This was Cassian. She’d never, even through all the months of training, properly disarmed him or won in their spars. 

Faster than she thought was possible, Cassian had her in a hold with both her arms fastened behind her back, his chest pressed up behind her. Try as she might, it was useless to try and break free. Not when his strength matched her own and his skill far outweighed hers.

“That was nice. Try using that later today where we’re going. You’ll need it.”

“I’m not going,” she spit out. “Take Taliq. Or Cilla. I’m not going, I don’t want to. Definitely not with you.”

Cassian stiffened, just a fraction, but didn’t rise to the bait. She’d said that last part to push him away once and for all, but in typical Cassian fashion, he refused to listen.

“Taliq is on a mission in the north. Cilla is with Delani out of the town. The other soldiers are preparing for the Blood Rite. I can’t go on this one alone, I need the backup. So, if you could come it would be helpful.”

His hold on her loosened, and it was enough for her to break free, pushing away to face him. While she might have had fury written all over her face, Cassian’s was a blank canvas. So out of turn for him when he usually wore his heart on his sleeve and let everyone in on how he was feeling.

He’d been learning from her it would seem. 

Remembering that his last words to her were “if” and not “when” Nesta asked, “So I have a choice in coming?”

Cassian’s eyes shuttered impatiently. “Yes. You know that. But I don’t have anyone else to take and you’re trained.”

Nesta didn’t bother to point out that he hadn’t asked her permission when he’d returned home. Didn’t ask before deciding she’d come with him to whatever work he needed done. She knew the implications. She knew he’d meant it harmlessly too. But something about having to spend time with him right now, when all she wanted to do was run and hide away from the world, had her wanting to lash out. Push him away before he could see what a wretch she still was.

She huffed in annoyance as he looked at her with wide eyes. Too much care reflecting in them for her to stomach. “Why not Azriel?”

Without missing a beat, Cassian answered, “He’s in another court spying. You know? His job?” 

Before Nesta could glare he flashed her with an infuriating smirk, adding on, “And last I checked, it isn’t Azriel who can set things on fire with his hands.”

Nesta rolled her eyes but silently agreed. She’d gotten particularly good at controlling the flames now. Could summon them at ease. And if Cassian actually needed her help instead of just going alone, she wasn’t going to abandon him. Not if it meant it would keep him safe.

Stepping out of the door, not bothering to look back, Nesta had her final word as Cassian pulled it behind them. 

“Fine. I’ll come. But I don’t appreciate being manhandled like that.”

“You do when it’s me,” he whispered into her ear, sauntering past her.

Mother help her, this male.

~*~

Nesta hadn’t wanted to let Cassian fly them to wherever they needed to go. She knew she wouldn’t be able to handle flying in his arms, so close and pressed up against him. His warm chest. Those strong, tattooed arms.

All that muscle...

Stop. Stop thinking about him like that, she had warned herself.

But it was difficult. He had looked breathtaking beside her. Half of his hair swept back into a knot, held in place by what she was sure was one of her own hair ties. The leathers that clung to his body did little to help her ignore just how long it had been since they’d had sex. Only two days, but still...

She didn’t recall the last time they’d gone that long before.

“What are you thinking about?,” Cassian had asked her with a knowing glint in his eyes. It had made her huff in annoyance at him.

Of course he had known.

“I’m thinking I’m not flying and messing up my hair with your deranged flying.”

Cassian had raised his brows at her, his gaze flitting over the hair braided tightly into a crown on her head. They had both known there was no way even one hair would be able to escape her hairstyle.

But Cassian had chosen not to respond. Or to rise to her taunt. She wasn’t sure which it was, but that had irritated her too. It had also bothered her that when she offered to spectrate them both, he’d given no objections to it. Even if she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to get them close enough to wherever they were going.

According to Cassian, she had needed to get them to the forest boundary line that he’d brought her to when showing her the old witch village. After that, he’d said he would take them the rest of the way.

Nesta hadn’t looked at him as she’d taken his hand in her own, ignoring the sharp feeling of current jolting through her when their hands had touched.

She still wasn’t looking at him. Following behind him silently as he led them through the same woods he’d brought her through the first time. He’d softly told her that there had been reports of some strange creatures and there was a village nearby that would be in danger.

Nesta had been about to ask about which village and if it was the abandoned witch residence. Could it be that people- no, witches- had begun inhabiting it again?

But Cassian had promptly told her first that they were traveling in the opposite direction of that place. Instead, they’d be skimming the boundary of another Illyrian village- Kaleadian he’d told her it was called.

“So,” Cassian began lightly, pointing out hidden roots as he stepped over them to make sure she did the same. 

“So?”

Nesta didn’t want to talk. Certainly not when they had a job to do and definitely not when she was very sure where the conversation was headed.

Cassian stopped himself short, turning halfway to look at her.

“Nes-”

“No. I don’t want to talk about last night so please don’t make me.”

Cassian appraised her silently, hazel eyes scanning her face hurriedly.

“I won’t force you into anything. I was just worried. I’m here though. You know that, right?”

Nesta nodded quickly, moving ahead of him so he wouldn’t see the unsaid words through her expression. 

Cassian may think he was here for her. Perhaps, a part of him even believed that was what he wanted. But the truth was that Nesta did not deserve Cassian’s kindness or sympathy. Certainly not his shoulder to cry on. Nesta didn’t want to think about that either though, so she tried her best at changing the conversation. He’d likely see right through it, but perhaps he’d humor her.

“What do you think we’re looking for?”

Cassian hurried his steps, walking alongside her now, chuckling. “If I’m being honest, I’m convinced it’s absolutely nothing. They report said some children saw a beast in the woods when they were playing nearby.”

Nesta frowned. She too had grown up hearing of monsters and all manner of creatures in the forest. Especially if one traveled too far in. But she had also been chided by her mother on more than one occasion for creating fearsome descriptions of monsters that didn’t exist. At least, she lost many privileges if she used those imaginings to scare Elain into having nightmares.

Nesta smiled to herself at the memory. How easy it had been to jest at the time with each other. Their young age acting as some sort of balm to all their many differences in personality. Now Nesta was certain she’d never hear from her sisters in Velaris ever again. 

Cassian was looking at her strangely, noting how silent she’d gotten, so she asked another question.

“What kind of beast if you don’t think it’s real?”

Cassian nodded. “I do think it’s real. I don’t think the children are lying. But they’re children. They see something they’ve never seen before and you’ll get all sorts of stories. And,” Cassian added with a wink, “they’ll all be different testimonies from each other. I honestly think it’s a phooka.”

“A what?,” Nesta asked, bewildered.

“A phooka. They look like a rabbit or a hare. Some of them have horns. They’re harmless but they look so fucking wrong, most people get alarmed just by coming across one.”

“So...a bunny?”

Cassian barked out a laugh. “Definitely sweetheart. A bunny.”

She smiled up at him as they made their way deeper into the woods. She’d missed this- missed them. Even if she knew deep down they were never going to last, especially if last night were any indication of how their future would go, it was nice to pretend for a while.

“Nes, I was-”

Cassian stopped talking and shoved her behind him, pulling his sword free in one smooth motion, his free hand braced in front of her.

Nesta couldn’t see in front of her. Not with Cassian’s wings in her way and definitely not since he was an entire foot taller than her. She leaned up on the tips of her toes, her line of sight just grazing above his shoulder.

And then she saw them.

There were three of them. Bodies as large as bears. Larger. She could make out three rows of teeth in one of the beast’s open mouth. The other two were growling close-mouthed and she saw their claws pushing out from their paws. Paws the size of two grown male’s heads. She thought they resembled cats, if cats were multiplied in size and viciousness. A lion head if her memory served her correctly from the books she’d read in the House of Wind a year ago.

These were Martax. Rare and able to shred entire villages up into ribbons. They left nothing alive when they moved on.

Mother above.

The pack was headed right for her and Cassian.

~~~~

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