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wisteriabookss · 4 years

Text

My ACOSF Review (2/5 Stars)

Please respect my opinions. Not everything I say will be praiseful or nice. While I liked a lot of this book, a lot of it frustrated and bothered me.

This review contains spoilers. Read at your own risk.

This review will be more of an overall impression, and I will get more in depth about certain characters in future posts.

I eventually got into the plot of the book, but I don’t think it was as great or creative as it could’ve been. I feel like SJM recycled ideas she’s already used to create the storyline. A quest to find a magic object that can stop a war and save the world? That sentence applies to both ACOWAR and ACOSF. It’s even more disappointing when you know there were other routes the plot could’ve taken but were eventually scratched. It was the perfect set up for an Illyrian mountain setting, it was written in canon, and, unsurprisingly, SJM retconned and changed it.

The Valkyrie plot was cool, if a bit forced and out of place. Nesta barely starts training, and all of a sudden she wants to recreate a powerful band of female warriors that we’ve never heard of in the context of this world? Honestly, it feels like SJM watched Thor: Ragnarok, and was like, “Yes, that’s what I’m gonna do.” I thought Helions winged horses would come into play with that, but I guess we’ll have to see.

I thought the Blood Rite plot was gone, but we got it in the end, even though it was rushed. The most beautiful parts of the book happened during the Rite, so I’m glad we got to see those.

The ending of Briallyn was so swift I literally had to go back a page to make sure I read it right. Literally one page, and she’s killed. I expected more. I can’t say I'm surprised by how rushed her death was when I knew the Feysand trouble was approaching, and the number of pages left was getting smaller. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that SJM would save Rhys, Feyre, and their baby. Out of the entire ensemble in Kingdom of Ash, she only had the heart to kill Gavriel, who wasn’t too much of a main character. There was no way in hell she would do that to Feysand.

I’m sorry, but I do not like the name Nyx. Imagine calling someone Nyx? Did she originally have it as Nick, but just needed to put an X? My eyes were rolling so hard when I read it. Just put an ‘O’ in front of it and end our misery, though I still would’ve rolled my eyes at that name too. The name just reminds me of all the blogger moms who put X’s in their child’s names for dramatic effect that ends up looking like they can’t spell.

I also didn’t appreciate the out of touch colloquialisms in this book either. Prythian doesn’t have a name for anxiety, depression, or PTSD, but they know what lactic acid means?

The amount of sex in this book was something we had been warned to expect, and I think due to the fastness of me reading this book (finished in two sittings), it made it feel like the sex was happening every other page, which it basically was. I’m not going to be mad though because a) it was well written, b) I didn’t feel like it harmed the plot too much, and c) this is the only Nessian smut we’re going to see in canon. But that threesome line with Az. . . y'all know which one I’m talking about. . . the one with the details about certain positions. . . chile um anyways let’s move on.

I called it months ago that Emerie would either be Mor or Azriel’s love interest, and looks like it’s going to be Mor. SJM’s writing is fairly predictable, especially when it comes to romantic ships, and she couldn’t have been more obvious about the two of them. I will write about Gwyn and Azriel in Azriel’s chapter review (cause that monstrosity needs a post of its own).

Now about Nesta’s healing arc. Some of it was satisfying and others were saddening. I’m happy that Nesta was able to find purpose in her life, and not believe herself to be worthless or pathetic, but strong and powerful. I’m happy she found Gwynn and Emerie; I love their friendship. I love how they stuck by each other no matter what, and saw the good and potential in one another.

However, even by the end of the book, Nesta still thinks herself as undeserving. Of Cassian, of love. She knows she has it, and she's so grateful for it, but she still believes she is undeserving of it, that Cassian is just so much better than her. A part of learning to love and live with yourself is knowing what you deserve, so why SJM took that from her character, I don’t know. I was continuously disappointed when said she was undeserving of anything, even after she had learned and grown from her mistakes.

Maybe SJM thinks the belief of being undeserving of one's partner is romantic. I’m telling you now, it’s not. All that does is give unnecessary power to a person you believe you are undeserving of, and this leads to unequal power dynamics in a relationship. Rhys was the exact same with Feyre, so I’m guessing it's a theme.

Speaking of romantic themes, the repetition of the “your mine-im yours” line in this book was nauseating. Your going to make Nesta say the exact same thing her sister said when they had sex? Is there nothing else SJM could’ve come up with? It’s just so weird. And I swear to god if I see Elain do the same thing I’m gonna vomit.

Nesta apologized to Cassian about what she said to him on Solstice in ACOFAS as if he never called her unlovable. As if he never said he didn’t understand why her sisters love her. He never apologized for that. There was so much apologizing from Nesta to Cassian about her calling him a brute, as if Cassian didn’t say he was “shackled” to her after she clearly explained how she feared she would lose her humanity if she accepted the word mate. Not if she accepted him, but the word.

For Cassian to routinely tell Nesta to, “shut her fucking mouth,” when she used some attitude against Rhys was comical. Rhys has been bad mouthing and disrespecting Nesta this whole time, and when she shows some warranted attitude in return (not even an insult), Cassian rips into her. It doesn’t matter what he did for you, babe. Not everyone has the same experience with Rhys, so Cassian getting angry when Nesta showing anger at the way she was being treated was wrong. Her experience with him does not become invalidated just because Cassian has a good relationship with him.

There wasn’t a character arc for Cassian, which was one of the most disappointing parts of the book. He thinks of himself as inferior and undeserving as well, and by the end of the book it’s not even clear if that stance has changed. We saw him grow into the courtier persona in the meeting with Eris when Tamlin shows up, but we never see it again. I know there were instances in which he stood up for Nesta, but he also very quicky after that became silent in other moments when they were insulting her. The next book isn’t in his pov, but I’m hoping we see him become more confident in himself and make a firmer stance to protect Nesta (although I doubt he’ll need to seeing as how Rhys kisses the ground she walks on now).

Now onto Nesta’s apologies to the IC. I think Nesta apologizing to Feyre was expected, and I’m glad the sisters had that moment. I am, however, upset that there was never a moment where all the sisters sat down, and hashed it out. Talked about what they’d been through, how it affected them, and how it affected their feelings toward each other. After everything that happened between Nesta and Elain, all that hurt, you’re telling me all it took was Nesta to make Elain laugh by saying “fuck you,” and we’re good? It’s lazy writing.

Elain telling Nesta that she only cared about how her trauma affected her did not sit right with me. Nesta sat by Elain’s side for weeks when she was in the thick of her struggles, and refused to leave her alone for fear that her struggles would eat her up alive. She constantly looked for anything that could help her sister, and never left her unprotected. Nesta and Elain didn’t communicate after the war, for reasons that we now know was because of Nesta’s guilt for Elain being kidnapped. It is not abnormal when a family member has been traumatized by things that have happened to another family member. That’s expected. Ask any family who has lost a child or had a relative go through something horrible.

Elain is acting as if Nesta has only ever been concerned with herself when she’s spent her entire life concerned with Elain. I made a post long ago about how the IC only wanted Nesta to heal for their sake rather than her sake, and there’s so much more evidence for that than for Elain. Elain’s healing process was able to be understood and encouraged by the IC, whereas they had no idea what to do with Nesta. So for Elain to come at Nesta for not caring about her trauma, a second after Nesta was trying to protect her from further trauma by telling her she didn't want her seering for the Trove, was unwarranted.

Speaking about Elain looking for the Trove, what happened there? Elain had this whole speech where she said she wanted to do something and no one could stop her and then we just. . . don’t hear anything about it again? SJM had a perfect opportunity to do something powerful with Elain there, and completely threw it away.

Nesta’s apology to Amren was extreme, dramatic, and honestly, unnecessary. Amren called Nesta a “pathetic waste of life,” constantly demeaned and degraded her anytime her name was mentioned, and said she did all this because Nesta used her as a shield against her problems and the IC. Seriously? Nesta using Amren as a shield does not warrant that kind of verbal abuse. It doesn't make her a pathetic waste of life. Amren’s been alive for how long? And reacts like that to an obvious side effect of extreme trauma? No ma'am. Nesta getting on her damn knees was too much, and obviously just another moment, like a lot of moments, that SJM felt the need to make dramatic. And then having the audacity to let Amren say to Nesta that, “the struggle with the darkness is worth it,” when she was one of those people who contributed to that darkness is disgusting.

I didn’t like Rhys at all in this book. Even after he saw inside Nesta’s mind about her experience in the cauldron, he was still wary and rude with her. Literally anytime Nesta showed that she was changing, Rhys didn’t change anything about his attitude or behavior towards her. A moment of regret, and then he’s back to being arrogant ass Rhys. Him not telling Feyre about the baby was also extremely stupid. It’s her body, her life, her baby’s life, his life, and she had a right to know what was happening. Not telling her because you didn’t want her to be “upset,” is a dumb excuse. I thought you always promised to let her make her own decisions, Rhys? What happened to that promise? The one that was a hell of a lot better than the stupid bargain ya’ll made? Though Nesta told her out of anger, good on her for telling her sister. Should’ve happened way sooner. His apology to Nesta was the only one that warranted the dramatics. That is what you get on your knees for.

That whole scene about him becoming High King had me throwing the book. Amren telling Rhys that the swords were some sort of mother-mary-cauldron-blessed-hallelujah sign that he was supposed to be High King had me fuming. It’s Nesta’s power. It’s Nesta’s sword. That should have never been a discussion. Not everything is for Rhys. These people are so blinded by their love for him they can’t even see how arrogant he is. To write Nesta giving back Ataraxia made me so angry after we just had a whole moment where we find out it means inner peace. I just hope that all of this is not foreshadowing Rhys becoming High King. I know you love him Sarah, but please don’t.

All in all, this book wasn’t too bad. There were some great moments and some bad moments. I think SJM’s biggest issue in her writing is that she doesn’t outline, or at least doesn't seem to outline, not thoroughly. I feel like she uses plot devices willy nilly whenever it’s the easiest solution. There was never a moment where I said, “that was clever!” A lot of it was cool, but not clever. Not creative. She also has a tendency to write very dramatically, in staccato type sentences where everything is made into a big moment, which bugs me a lot.

I love Nesta. She’s still my fav, and will probably always be my fav. This book doesn’t change that, and as you can tell in my review, most of the issues I had weren’t with her behavior, but with the behavior of other characters. I still love Cassian, even though he made me want to rip my hair out sometimes.

Will I read the next books? Probably. I can’t seem to stay away from these characters or these books, so kudos to SJM for writing them. I know a majority of people have given this book 4 or 5 stars, but I can’t bring myself to give it more than 2/5.

#nesta #cassian #nessian #acosf #a court of silver flames #sjm #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #cassian x nesta #feysand #feyre #feyre archeron #rhysand #elain #elain archeron #amren #sarah j maas #nesta stan #nestastan

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mmvalentine · 3 years

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Let Me Touch You Pt 9 | Feysand

High school AU. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 10

The weeks floated by like soap bubbles on the breeze. In art class, Feyre and Rhys started making portraits of each other no matter what the new brief was- something in this room. Something in the cubist style. Something that makes you happy. In history and chemistry, Feyre started sitting next to Rhys, and her teachers said he was a bad influence on her but Mor did not get in trouble once. After school, Rhys held Feyre's hand on the walk home and sat with them in study group, with his ankles locked around hers under the table.

And on the days Rhys disappeared at lunch to visit his scruffy dog, Feyre would go with him, and scratch Bryaxis' ears, and kiss Rhys on the staircase until they had to run back to school to avoid being late for the next class.

Mor was a huge fan of their relationship from they day they kissed in history class, and was not shy about shoving them together any time she saw the opportunity. One such day, they were studying together right before midterms, and Mor got up all of a sudden and declared she couldn't keep going with Rhys and Feyre distracting her.

"What do you mean 'distracting'?" Rhys asked. "We've just been sitting here quietly working, you've gotten up fifteen times in the last hour." "Yes exactly," Mor said. "Because everything you do reminds me of something else I need to do. Like, when you drink water and I remember I have to pee." "Sorry Mor," Feyre said. "We'll try to be less distracting." "No no no, it's too late. I really have to nail this midterm, you guys are going to have to go work in Rhys' room or something I need to be left alone." Feyre shrugged at Rhys and began packing up her things.

They carried their armfuls of books back to Rhys' bedroom, and since Rhys' desk wasn't big enough for the both of them, he stationed Feyre at the table and dropped his own belongings on his bed. It took all of five minutes for Rhys to be finding an excuse to get her next to him.

"Feyre," he said. "I'm having trouble with this practice exam for history. Can you come quiz me on some of these dates?"

Feyre crossed the room and took the text book that Rhys was holding out for her. Over the next little while, she asked him questions and rewarded him with a kiss when he got the answer right.

"What year was Hitler appointed leader of Germany?" "1933." She kissed him on the nose. "What year did the Soviet Union invade Poland?" "1939." She kissed him on his jaw. "What year did Churchill become Prime Minster of England?" "1940." She kissed his Adam's apple. "Beginning with the bombing of Pearl Harbour, what year did the US officially join the world war?" "1941." She kissed him on the lips, and before she could move away, Rhys was pulling her into his lap and winding his hands through her hair.

xxxxxxxxxx

There were days when Rhys was perfectly content to just sit and watch Feyre, whether she was painting or concentrating or laughing with Mor, when just feeling the glow of her beauty took his breath away a little. And then there were days where it was all he could do not to eat her alive.

This day was one of the latter. Rhys had sat at the table with the girls, and although midterms were breathing down their necks, all he wanted to do was lock his cousin out of the house and make out with Feyre on the kitchen table. So when Mor had suggested they study in his room, Rhys couldn't leave fast enough.

Now he had her in his arms and if he could kiss her forever he would. Fuck midterms. Fuck it all.

He leaned back against the headboard, and moved his fingers in the strip of exposed skin where Feyre's shirt rode up. Feyre's fingernails scratched lightly in his hair behind his head, and when her tongue ran along his bottom lip, he went completely hard underneath her.

In the month that he and Feyre had been dating, Rhys had gotten over his embarrassment at how quickly his body responded to her. At first, he had tried to control it, and when that had been a complete failure, he tried to hide it. But it happened every gods damn time she put her soft, full lips anywhere near him, when she bumped against him with her hip, when she hugged him and her breasts pressed up against his chest. So, pretty well whenever she was around. And after a number of times where he knew she knew, but she didn't freak out or pull away or laugh, he began to worry less.

This time, Feyre was right in his lap and there was definitely no denying it. He squeezed his hands at her hips, and then she moved and the rolling pressure over his crotch had him hanging onto her for dear life. He kissed her more deeply, and when she reacted in kind, tightening her hands at his neck, he moaned lightly.

Feyre shifted around so she was straddling him, and suddenly she was seated right over his cock. Through his jeans and hers, he burned like she was the actual sun.

Rhys pulled away, and was met with vicious protestations from both his body and the girl in his lap. He groaned into her palm. "Feyre, Feyre Feyre," he said. "You're going to have to slow down." "Why?" Feyre said, and when she tilted her head she looked so fucking cute he could have died. "I'm not... you have to take it easy on me sometimes," Rhys said, touching his thumb to her chin. Concern clouded her lovely eyes. "Are you not ready for this yet?" she asked him. Rhys barked out a laugh. "Gods no, the opposite. I'm afraid I'll lose it and push us too far. I want to be careful with you, and I want you to feel safe with me."

Feyre leaned in and pressed another lush, long kiss to his lips. He melted.

"Thank you," Feyre said. "I do feel safe with you." She looked at his lips. "I appreciate you being careful but... I also want you to just talk to me about these things. We can decide what we're ready for, together, right?" Rhys nodded, and toyed with a lock of her honey and gold hair.

"Have you... you know, slept with anyone before?" he asked her. Feyre shifted. "Yes," she said. "Just once. A boy from my old school, last year during a football game." She made a face. "It kind of sucked, it was weird and awkward. But," she added, and her thumbs stroked at the back of his neck. "It wasn't like this, with Isaac. Not like how it is with us." "You didn't love him?" Rhys asked. Feyre blushed. "No," she said. "I didn't." She asked him the question back. "Have you slept with anyone?" "Yes," Rhys answered, playing with her hair again. "A few people, here and there." "A few?" Rhys shrugged. "After my parents died I sort of went a bit off the rails, did some stuff that probably wasn't the best." He looked up at her. "But I didn't love any of them, either. And that's why I want to be careful with you. Because I want it to be different, because I love you and I want you to know I would never, ever hurt you if I could help it, and I don't want you to feel like you're any random girl to me."

Feyre looked down, and when she met his eyes again she was a little breathless.

"You love me?" she said. "Yes," Rhys said, having never been so sure of anything in his life. "I do." "I love you too, Rhys," Feyre said, and this kiss tasted even sweeter than all the ones before it.

****

Gah I was so sure this would be the last part, but it's high school and I just want to be careful with my little babies. If people were not careful with you when you were eighteen, this one is for you.

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-babies @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @whythefuckdoiexist @teddytdr

MASTERLIST

#feysand #feysand fic #acotar #acomaf #mine #fluff

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musicallibrarian93 · 3 years

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Gwyn and Az as parents

The perfect parents

Like I mean annoyingly perfect parents.

Don’t get me wrong Azriel was so panicked during the pregnancy and in the first few months but he realises after a while that a baby isn’t too far off what Cassian is like drunk.

Gwyn has also grown up with children so she’s a natural and adores them and is a natural.

You just know Azriel would be the hottest Dad ever!

Imagine him finally feeling confident in himself because his purpose is to raise these children and he loves them more than anything and he knows that he could mess it up but he can see how happy his children are and that's all that matters to him.

They sing lullabies to their children every single night.

Azriel takes them flying from a young age so they’re never scared of heights.

Azriel also makes sure they have night lights and keeps their door open so they never feel trapped in the dark.

Daddy Azriel is king of cuddles.

Like I’m talking big bear hugs.

Whenever they get injured or they’re sad, a cuddle from Az makes it all better.

Gwyn loves having a messy house. of course it’s an inconvenience but she loves it. She sees it as a sign of life and loves a busy house.

I imagine them having 2 or 3 children relatively close together.

Gwyn loved having a sister so close and Azriel loved growing up with Rhys and Cass so that’s why they have them near each other.

But they’re Fae so ‘close’ together is actually more like a decade apart.

They have children quite a while after Rhys and Feyre. Feysand’s kids are already adults and they love having the babies around.

The entire IC loves Gwynriel’s kids.

As perfect as they are parents their kids are also perfect.

They’re polite and respectful and have the cutest little voices.

Azriel shadows absolutely adore the children too and if they're close by and one of them trips up the shadows catch their fall.

Because they also adopt the order of the children coming into their lives and the ages don’t quite correspond.

Their first child was a bit of a surprise, Gwyn wasn’t planning on being pregnant for a while but they deal with it.

A decade or so later they adopt a 13 year old child and their first child still acts like the older sibling even though they’re a few years younger.

The second child (3rd of their children overall) they adopt is 5 years after that and they adopt an Illyrian baby.

Cassian and Nesta are their favourite uncle and aunt.

(That got weirdly specific at the end oops)

#Gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #Azriel #shadowinger #gwynriel as parents makes me soft #soft #acotar #sjm #acosf #silver flames #velaris

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vidalinav · 4 years

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Hi! First, how are you? Second, I have a question/idea and I don’t know who else could answer/take it easily..

So, people are saying Gwyn can’t be Az live interest because she is not born in January.

But if the Great Rite IS indeed during Calamnai as people say, then Gwyn’s mother got pregnant in March (Calamnai celebrates the beginning of Spring). And with a 10 months pregnancy, she was born in January...

So what do you think? (I really don’t care much about these ships honestly, but I like the draamaa)

And another opinion. If we end up getting the love triangle between Az, Gwyn and Elain, which part do you think Nesta would take? Because Elain is her sister, but right now their relationship isn’t really okay, while Gwyn never “turn her back” on Nesta..

Thank you for asking! I’m good! Hope you are too.

You know this is a funny ask, because it encompasses everything I find hilarious about these ships and I hope it doesn’t stop, because it’s a good laugh. People are pulling things out of a hat right now that are like ehhhh.... is that a really good argument in support of your ship? like I’m sorry, but do any of us fully 1000% believe that we know who the next book is about? No. So, we 1000% cannot prove who is ending up with who. SJM is so untrustworthy with who people end up with. Nessian was obvious. Feysand became obvious at the second book. No one at that point could say they weren’t going to end up together, because it wasn’t hinted. IT WAS OBVIOUS. It was spelled in big fat letters. Nessian has a whole scene to themselves (Wings and Embers) long before their book had even been discussed, SJM had said already that she paired Lucien with Nesta but Cassian made more sense, looooong before this book. The amount of questions related to Az/Lucien/Elain/Gwyn are not obvious enough to really pair people off, otherwise we wouldn’t have different pairings that could be put together. I think there are some things that are obvious because of plot and structure, but none enough to say for sure that this person will end up with this person. And I think it should be noted, that SJM won’t tell us, so I really think everything should be taken lightly. However, it’s entertaining, so take your ships seriously lol.

Now related to this birthday thing, because I saw this post, it’s even more hilarious to me. Because like... SJM hasn’t even written the next book it sounds like, is she not allowed to change her mind? But also have y’all been following all the problems that we have been talking about, about how SJM needs an editor that knows her book lore because she keeps having missteps in the information she’s provided us in previous books to now. So much information is off. Like, okay yeah I’m sure I’m going to take a birthday and be like oh yeah this is my ship, I’m going down with it. If I liked the ship, maybe I would. But I don’t care for either one of them. I tend to stray towards the ship that makes more sense to the story plot, the evidence we have, and character development progression. Because I have no emotional attachments to these ships. Not like nessian.

IMO I don’t feel there’s going to be a love triangle, because one it’s never done well. And second because also it wouldn’t make sense. Like Gwyn doesn’t go outside of the library. She doesn’t even want to now, she’s all of a sudden going to just hook up with this shadow singer because he saved her??? The only way I see gwynriel happening is Azriel airing out his mess with both Mor and Elain and then having growth and being like it’s Gwyn after the end of the day, or her just being an emotional barrier between him and Elain if that ends up being the case, or her being a comfort where he goes to see her or what not when she’s training or in the library, but they’re not going to have sex. This is an assault survivor retreat like... but then we would still have the issue with Lucien and we would still probably need more on the plot to have Gwyn be actively involved with Azriel to end up being a love interest pairing, otherwise it would just be more of training...training...and training... But all of this situation is very messy and we already have a messy plot. To fit into one book? Please. And then we have another one? How would that work? We have so many plot points now that this love square that is not confirmed would take up most time based on all sides of character development and thoughts and feelings and then the drama itself that arises, and how then would you move to the plot. So, that’s why I’m like look have your theories, have your ideas, but at a certain point we’re all going to have to take a knee lol for SJM, but also logical reasoning and narrative structure. I think it would be cool if it ended up being like A Midsummer Night’s Dream situation, but would that make sense really? It’s just a cool idea.

Like look at her other characters in other books with this situation. Chaol and Aelin were not going to happen, OBVIOUS. He hated everything we already knew about her--the magic, the power, the fact that he was under the crown’s thumb. I know some people still are like we were bamboozled. I was like how did you not see it??? It was already set up.

SO... I don’t know. Defend your ships I guess, but just know (not you specifically-but the fandom) that at the end of the day, you must bow to the ship that wins. I mean you’ll always have fanfiction. I don’t care who ends up being with who, but fucking have it make sense. Make it work without losing development, plot, romance, etc, because something will be lost for this love square thing to be resolved if that’s the route that happens without us knowing anymore information than what we do now.

But yeah, Nesta I feel would care if she knew Azriel was playing them both, then she’d probably be like “Hold up honey” because it would seem like he’s playing both of them, if he couldn’t decide between the two for a love triangle to work, or if he was holding on to one and not letting the other go, especially a s*** as***lt survivor!!!! Like I don’t see how Azriel wouldn’t look like a dick and then wouldn’t that ruin his character (reputation) to her and to maybe his friends? Sigh. Again messy!!!

#acosf #acosf spoilers #sort of I guess #Lucien Vanserra #Azriel #gwyneth berdara #elain archeron #I won't tag ships

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nessiancalore · 4 years

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"Cassian did nothing after acowar towards Nesta, he said all those things at the war and dropped the ball"

He was giving her space.

I mean... you basically say you love someone, and then you two are ready to die together but then you don't, ans you can see that the other person needs space because she just saw her fucking father being murdered in front of her, so you do it.

And instead of just space, that person blocks everyone out, moves out and does bad things towards herself (a behavior Cassian himself have been through according to him)... What could he have possible done (aside from the reaching he has tried to have towards those months, because they have seen each other during it) and after Feyre's party?

Should he had break into her house and make her be happy?????

Should he just kidnap her and throw her into his house and say "be with me".

NO.

As much as Nesta does need help,it needs to come slow and she needs to open Herself to him (I AM NOT SAYING HE HAS REASON TO GIVE UP OR THAT THIS IS HER FAULT) but it's like it went with Feyre....Rhys never got to her completely until she let him, because that's how it fucking worksworks.

You can push someone help, especially in Nesta's case, because they don't want help (unfortunately), it takes time and effort...And as far as we know during at least the first two weeks after the war Cassian was probably just thinking she just didn't wanted him because of himself, not just that she was hurt and pushing everyone way, but only him,or something like that...

YES this "you're going to the Illyrian camps with me" it might look like pushing and if he stills agrees with the way Rhys and Amren are being with Nesta, then yes, he's making a mistake, but about the camp:

Like I said, you can't push someone, not at least until you have a door.It has been months that she's not even around... This could just further...And honestly think that Cassian knows that of he doesn't act now, they might loose her.Not HIM loosing her but Nesta loosing herself --- because,again, he has said he understands what she's going through and maybe that's the way they (or him) found to get that door (again, feysand, she was dragged to Night court for months until she opened up, and yes, it took Tamlin to do that thing, but maybe this them trying to prevent "a thing"... because he knows she wouldn't handle it)...

In conclusion: Cassian is the only one among them who's actually doing something and carrying about her because even if Feyre just "wants Nesta out of Velaris" we KNOW he's not following orders but taking Nesta with him. He's trying to get to her somehow.

The camp might not be the best place (by far) but if think about it, there's no were else.

(And about Feyre,I'm really mad about the way she's """ dealing """" with Nes but maybe this harsh they all have on it's just to get Nesta to feel or anything like that, we don't know if Feyre (and all of them expect Cassian) just don't see what's happening to her - it would make them a little selfish I think bc it's pretty obvious- or that's just how they think it would be better to do it - kinda dumb bu still..that could be it)

#sarah j maas #acowar #acomaf #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #acofas #a court of wings and ruin #cassian #acosf #a court of silver flames #nessian #nesta archeon #feyre x rhysand #night court

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drjackandmissjo · 4 years

Text

it’s nice to have a friend

previous chapter --- Chapter 2 --- next chapter

Feysand masterlist

Tiredness came crushing Feyre down like a boulder. It had been a long day, a long life, and she couldn't wait to get back into her dorm room, snuggle up in her bed and let the world disappear, even if just for a couple of hours. It was what she deserved, having let down everyone in her life with her stubbornness and uneasiness.

Despite the initial rush of relief and euphoria, everything else came rushing back into focus. The loneliness, the stress, the hunger.

Although she was the youngest of her family, she had been the only one willing to work. Her father couldn't move from the bed most days and her sisters were far too proud to get dirty hands in any situation that didn't require spending money, instead of gaining them. Feyre had managed to juggle great grades in all her AP classes in high school as well as two minimum wage jobs, one in a diner as a waitress and the other in a small arts & crafts shop. Since she had been 14, she was the only one bringing an income to the table, to make sure that they had food and a roof over their heads. Their father's small veteran pension didn't suffice anymore as soon as Nesta, her eldest sister, got into their city's most prestigious and expensive university, choosing an economics major, and money became even less when Elain, the second one, was accepted into the same university for their botanical department. Granted, they both managed to archive scholarships, Nesta with her stellar grades and Elain with a cheerleading position. But money had never been easy to begin with and even with those scholarships, Feyre still had to struggle to keep the family afloat.

Both sisters still lived into their childhood home with Feyre and their father, their mother long gone, but both claimed to be far too busy with schoolwork to help their sister economically. Feyre knew she shouldn't resent them, but every time either came to her asking for money for new expensive shoes or to go out with their friends, she couldn't do anything other than swallow the bile and give in to their demands, wondering when would come her turn to be a normal teenager and go out with her nonexistent friends.

When Feyre's time to leave high school came she was faced with a decision: community college, since she couldn't afford the one her sisters went to without selling both her kidneys and a lung, or move away to Velaris, to the other side of Prythian, where the art department offered her a full scholarship after having received her request of admission and a sample of the works she had created during high school. She would still need to work to pay her stay and maintain the nearly perfect grades she had in high school, but she knew she could do it.

As soon as the acceptance letter came alongside the papers for the scholarship, she sat both her sisters down. Nesta had started working in an office, putting in good money with a 9 to 6 routine, but Elain was still on her senior year. Fortunately for Feyre, her eldest sister seemed to understand the situation and all but kicked her out of the house as soon as September rolled around, paying herself for Elain's last year. Feyre didn't ask for anything, and neither sister gave anything.

During the summer Feyre worked still her two usual jobs and began studying for her freshman courses and her sophomores ones as well. She wanted to finish early and so she planned and rescheduled the credit units she had to take each year to be able to finish in 2.5/3 years instead of 4.

On September 1st she had packed her entire life into a couple of suitcases and kissed goodbye to her sisters as she boarded the train for a 12 hours ride to the other side of the country. A plane would've been quicker but also more expensive and she planned on saving the money, old habits dying hard.

" This feels just like leaving for Hogwarts" she had thought as the train began to move out of the station, her sisters still there to wave her goodbye one last time.

She had moved into a dorm room and began working at the library that same day, as soon as her badge began working. "Screw freshman week!" Feyre thought as she shelved books and checked them out for other students. She had heard rumors about what went down in that short period of time and it wasn't truly her cup of tea anyway.

Her roommate was a senior in fashion & merchandise named Alis, bronze skinned with long black curls that framed her face nicely. She helped Feyre settle in and brought her to a few sorority parties in the first month, dragging her despite the younger's complaints about wasted hours. Alis had laughed at that and simply replied "You don't wanna miss too much 'cause you're studying all the time, trust me."

She had met Tamlin at one of those parties. He was a sophomore and member of one of the fraternities around campus and began to hit on Feyre immediately, relentlessly. At first she was flattered, not used to guys giving her attention of any sort if it wasn't for exchanged coursework, but she still maintained herself cold and distant, not sure of how to fit him into her packed schedule. After a few months of incessant flirting, although she had brushed him off several times, she had finally caved in and they began dating. "I knew you'd come around!" he had claimed.

Their first months were incredible. He didn't bother her much nor demand too much time from her, letting her study and work. He filled her up with warmth and with him, for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel alone in the world anymore.

She enjoyed the time she spent with him, but then May came and Finals with it. Feyre couldn't move from the library, remaining there after her shift had ended and studying in one of the booths. She simply didn't have time for anything else. She had to keep all her grades up, otherwise she wouldn't have been able to remain at the university.

That was when things started to go downhill with Tamlin. They fought almost constantly due to his paranoia and her lack of availability, and yet he had chosen the worst possible moment to confess the depth of his feelings to her. They argued about her job at the library, how it was talking too much time from their relationship when it happened. Feyre felt like she was being gutted as he spoke the three words that she had never heard before in her life. "Why do you look like it's the worst thing you've ever heard?" he had demanded harshly when she hadn't replied immediately back. "Because it is" she wanted to say, but instead followed his lead, giving him empty words without meaning, because everything was better than the constant fights.

He became obsessive then, as if her void confession had flipped a switch inside of him, and demanded to know where she was almost every minute of the day.

Thankfully summer came and went, the two months a sweet reprieve as she went back home. She had ended all her compulsory freshman classes and half of the ones she was supposed to take during sophomore year and loosened a little, choosing to focus on making a little more money to be able to live comfortably in Velaris.

Then it was again September. Tamlin had picked her up from the train station and took her to a nice restaurant to make up for the ' lost time' without her during his summer in Europe. Feyre didn't particularly mind, but she also didn't like over the top romantic gestures as much as he did. Still, she kept quiet and enjoyed the nice evening, as he was back into his ' old' self, as he spoke of his travels and the people he had met and the food he had eaten. By the end of the night they didn't have much time to share how she had spent the summer working and being overall plain and boring, but she didn't mind that he hadn't asked, since she hadn't been particularly fond of telling him either.

A new school year meant a new roommate for Feyre, since Alis had graduated that summer, and whatever star was looking over her granted Feyre Morrigan.

Morrigan Gold was a beautiful soul. She was pre-law junior and had a constant real smile on her lips, her long golden hair cascading on her back in soft curls. Her tan skin and kind brown eyes gave her an aura of gentleness that very few possessed. She was truly Feyre's first real friend, not just someone to hang out with or to talk to, but someone she could see easily in her life still 50 years in the future, sipping tea and laughing on a porch, talking about everything and nothing.

"That's how you know someone's gonna stick" Mor had told her one night, coming back from Rita's, their usual club, "you imagine being old on a porch with them!" Feyre had laughed at that, claiming that she wasn't 100% sure of that reality since she couldn't imagine Tamlin ever sitting outside peacefully. That just earned her a pointed stare from the other girl, but neither commented and they changed the topic onto something easier as they stumbled back to their dorm room, completely wasted and happy. The next day brought a wicked hangover and Tamlin, pissed that she had gone out without him and that she had drunk, but Mor, bless her soul, didn't comment either. She just offered Feyre a shoulder to cry on and her comfort, swearing to cut off his balls at her command. The aspiring artist merely laughed at that through her tears, unsure of what she wanted to do herself.

But having Mor as a friend meant also that Feyre had been adopted into her Inner Circle.

Adopted by Amren Drake, the tiny terrifying senior that already had a job for the following year as an associate to teach Ancient Greek.

Adopted by Azriel Nox, Morrigan's adoptive cousins that learnt informatics and coding as if they were his mother tongue.

Adopted by Cassian Nox, Mor's other adoptive cousin that could cook a masterpiece and also ' kick some serious butt' at any given occasion.

And, finally, adopted by Rhysand Nox, Mor's actual cousin of blood. Rhys was an English major, a year older than Feyre, like everyone else in their little family. He was the type of person that one day, without a doubt, would win some prize for the things he wrote, but still had to master the art through higher education first. The only way to describe him was by calling him a 'dreamer who refused to settle into a grey reality'. He was an optimist and one of the most beautiful people Feyre had ever met, both inside and outside. Jet black hair, dark skin and a smile that could knock the socks off of a statue, he was also the most humble and down to earth guy in a mile radius. They had hit it off right away, with innocent platonic flirting and long serious talks. He knew she was with Tamlin and didn't push her boundaries. He saw the world the same way she did and she understood what he meant before he even said it.

Needless to say, when Tamlin found out who she was hanging with, he became even more paranoid than he already was. It wasn't only the fact that she hung out with males that weren't him to set him off. The thing that drove him ballistic was her closeness with Rhysand, his sworn one-sided enemy that had bested him in every class they had shared on their freshman year.

Her best and closest friend in the entire world.

She had been forced choose by Tamlin, before the Christmas break, between him and her friends, and choose to please her boyfriend and started to isolate herself little by little from her group of friends, afraid of what would have happened otherwise. After all, she had no one but Tamlin, right?

But as she came back from the free days spent at home with her sisters and father, she began to realize how lonely she was, how unhappy she had been lately. She had retorted back into her former self, into the girl that only thought about school and work, that didn't have time for friends.

Feyre decided to give their relationship more time, to wait till the finals were over and till everything was back to normal, but things never were normal to begin with.

And so, that cold February day, she cut it off in front of all her classmates and began to feel immediately better.

But now she was once again tired.

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rhysismydaddy · 5 years

Text

My Little Brawler - Feysand Headcannon 2

I’ll just go ahead and preface this by saying it’s long as SHIT. I went a little crazy. But here’s the second headcannon for Feysand. Thank you for the love on the last one! Next one out tomorrow.

Synopsis: Feyre Archeron is a 31 year old researcher who has devoted her entire life to her work. Her dating history is a mess, from an ex-husband to one night stands. A serious relationship? Hell no.

Rhysand Turner is a Virginia-born quarterback living it up in a football-crazy city. He doesn’t date and sticks to dumb blondes who look good on his arm and think how far he can throw a football is better than sex. Marriage? Not in a million years.

________________________________________________________________

Feyre swung the lab door closed, locked it behind her, and headed toward the hospital exit.

“Calling it a night?” Howie, the night-shift security guard asked from behind his desk.

She glanced at her watch and winced. “More like a morning now, but yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

He laughed and went back to his crossword puzzle. Nothing interesting happened in the hospital this late at night outside of the ER, so Howie was basically only there for her. Feyre frequently was the last staff member to leave the place, something her coworkers never understood.

She came in early, left late, and worked holidays. To say she was married to her job would be an understatement.

Grabbing her keys and walking out to her car, she had to admit they had a point. She’d given up her entire life for her work, but she had no regrets.

She’d made countless breakthroughs in nuclear medicine and had changed the face of chemotherapy and radiation. It payed off every day when she heard from the oncologists that one of their patients was cancer free.

As she drove to her townhouse--only four minutes from the hospital--she wondered if it was strange she preferred to be alone.

Then she remembered how she’d ended up when she committed herself to a relationship and shook her head. If you can’t trust the man you’re married to, who can you trust? No one.

She didn’t miss being married. At all. She didn’t miss having to come home from a long day at work and muster up the energy to talk about whatever was bothering him.

She did miss sex, though. She never went out, never invited anyone over. It’d been so long since she’d been with a man, she was pretty sure she had cobwebs down there.

Ignoring that thought, Feyre walked through her front door, threw her keys on the kitchen table, and went to bed. She had to be in the hospital in four hours if she wanted to get ahead of her schedule.

_________________________________

Rhysand jogged off the field, grinning at the look on his coach’s face.

“If you’re in love with me, I don’t want to know,” he joked.

Coach Matthews was at least five inches shorter than Rhys, but he reached up and smacked the back of his head anyway. He wasn’t actually mad, though. There were about three people in the world who could get away with talking trash to Adrian Matthews, and Rhys happened to be one of them.

“Shut up, smartass. I’m just excited. If you play like this tomorrow, we’ll wi-”

Rhys cut him off. “Don’t jinx me.”

A raised eyebrow. “After all this time, you’re superstitious?”

“It could be my last game,” he said, ignoring the look on the man’s face. “I don’t need any bad luck.”

He’d never admit it, but losing tomorrow’s game was easily the scariest thing in Rhys’s life.

Talent wise, there was no one better than him. He wasn’t cocky, but he knew it. He had better stats, better knowledge of the game, better everything.

But, according to sports, Rhys was old as dirt.

No matter how good you are, football isn’t a lifetime sport. Even though thirty-eight would be young to almost anyone’s standards, network channels and reporters were all wondering how long he would push on.

The guys he was competing against were all in their twenties, young and fresh and without back pain. And knee pain. And-

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself, idiot. No matter what happens tomorrow, you’ve had the most impressive career as a NFL quarterback in history. So get your head out of your old ass and play the game you know how to play.”

Rhys just laughed. “My old ass? What about you? When did you even sneak out of the retirement home?”

Before Matthews could attempt to kick his ass, a beefy hand smacked into Rhys’s back and Cassian--the other person allowed to talk shit to coach--said, “Oh, I see. You made a few good passes out there and now you’re over here drinking water and gossiping with coach like a couple old ladies. Cute.”

“Both of you, get your asses home and in bed,” the coach ordered, rolling his eyes. “I cannot believe I let myself draft two hard-headed, pain in the ass hillbillies,” he muttered, walking toward the other players.

“He’s just mad because he’s in love with you,” Cassian said, throwing a thick arm around Rhysand’s shoulders, and dragging him to the locker room.

Rhys pushed him off and laughed. “That’s exactly what I said.”

“So about tomorrow-”

“I swear to god if you mention the game one more time, I’ll tell everyone you wear women’s underwear when you play,” Rhys threatened, then ducked to avoid the helmet flying towards his head.

“Shut the fuck up, man! That was one time! And I wouldn’t have done it, but you made me watch Bull Durham and it seemed like a decent idea at the time. And I wasn’t even gonna talk about the game.”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow. If Cassian wasn’t talking about football, he was droning on about women, booze, or hunting. Sometimes a mixture. Before he could continue, Rhys made a bet it was women on his best friend’s mind this time.

“Anyway, me and Az were thinking we could go somewhere new tomorrow night. Regardless of how the score turns out.”

That caught his attention. The three of them had been friends since high school and had all played together till Azriel blew his knee out two years ago. They all lived in the same apartment complex still and got together almost every weekend. In all their time of friendship, they’d maybe gone to five bars. Once Cassian found a place and racked up enough of a tab, he stayed until they wouldn’t let him through the door anymore.

“Where?”

“There’s bar about twenty minutes from here. Az apparently knows the owner or something.” It made sense. After his injury, Azriel had gone into broadcasting and had made a ton of connections in the PR world.

“I don’t want to go anywhere crow-”

Cass cut him off. “He said it’s a small bar. No crowds.”

The one negative aspect of his life was the never-leaving pack of fans and paparazzi following him around. After the game tomorrow, it’d be hectic. He didn’t want to deal with that if they won, let alone if they lost.

Rhys shrugged. “Fine by me. Either way, I’ll be needing a lot of booze.”

“You’re so fucking dramatic man,” Cassian laughed. “It’s just a game.”

Rolling his eyes, “It’s the Super Bowl, idiot. It’s not just a game.”

“Okay,” his best friend and defensive tight end said lightly. “It’s a big game.”

As he thought about how a loss tomorrow could be the end of his career, Rhys could only nod and agree.

________________________________

Feyre walked through the front doors of the cancer wing and halted. John Weatherly, the Chief of Staff of the hospital--and not to mention a huge pain in her ass--stood at the threshold.

“You look annoyed,” she stated, ready for whatever lecture he was about to give her.

After all the time she’d worked for him, she’d never really gotten past her dislike of her boss. Or his misogynistic rants. Or the fact that he smelled like cigarettes. They worked in the cancer wing of the hospital, for crying out loud. And he had the nerve to smoke a cigarette every chance he got.

“I am,” he said, equally as blunt. “Are you aware you’ve worked at least 120 hours a week for the past two months?”

“Considering I log my own hours, yes.”

“That is a huge waste-”

“Are you aware that I’ve published three research articles during the past two months? Generating publicity, not to mention patients, for the hospital?”

“Considering I’m not an idiot, yes,” John snapped sourly. “But this isn’t about me. The board is implementing a new rule this week. No more work weeks over 100 hours.”

She opened her mouth to retort, but he held up a hand in annoyance. “Don’t bother. I already tried to tell them you practically live here. It’s not flexible for anyone.”

Feyre allowed herself to steam for a few moments before muttering, “Fine.” She tried to walk around him to the lab, but he stepped in her path.

“Since you’ve already worked over the limit, you’ll have to go home. Come back Tuesday.”

“Tuesday?!” she practically shouted. “Why not tomorrow? The time cards reset every week.”

“You’ve worked 115 hours this week. They told me to tell you specifically that if you want to continue to receive a paycheck from them, you will come back Tuesday.”

“This is so-”

“Have a nice two days off, Dr. Archeron.”

She couldn’t not work for two days. “What am I supposed to do all day? Just let me go get my paperwork, and I’ll work from home.”

“Feyre, I have specific orders from the hospital’s board to have the security guard escort you out if you try to go in the lab.”

Her mouth dropped open, but before she could tell him how ridiculous this was, he said, “Go home. Sleep. Watch the game.”

“Game? What game?”

It was his John’s turn to look shocked. “The Super Bowl is tonight. Did you really not know?”

“No, of course not. I don’t care about football.”

Her boss was silent, stuttered a few words, then said, “How do you not like football? You live in Boston! Rhysand Turner is practically a celebrity around here.”

She didn’t know why any medical professional would encourage grown men to smash into each other for sport, but kept that to herself. “Who is Rhysand Turner, exactly?”

“For a genius, you’re such an idiot,” he said bitterly. “He’s the quarterback about to win us the Super Bowl tonight. You should watch the game in your time off. Speaking of, leave. Now.”

“But-”

“Nope. Now.”

The urge to call him a jackass was so strong, she left before it slipped out. How ridiculous was this? She worked her ass off every day researching nuclear chemistry and the effects of chemotherapy in the body. It was important. Her work changed lives.

And they were telling her to go home and twiddle her thumbs. Or watch football.

She drove home angrily, wondering what on earth she would do with 48 hours of uninterrupted free time.

After finishing two loads of laundry, scrubbing her entire bathroom and kitchen, and grocery shopping, Feyre was bored. She tried to sit down and watch TV, but there was nothing on that interested her.

She flipped to the news, thinking she’d distract herself with politics. But no, everyone was talking about the game. Apparently, John was right. No one cared about anything except football today.

An idea popped in her head, and she smiled and picked up the phone.

“Finally!” her best friend shouted happily as she answered on the first ring. “I’ve been waiting for you to call; I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“Hi, Mor,” she laughed. “I’m sorry it’s been so long. Work is-”

“-crazy, I know,” she finished her sentence. “What’s up?”

Trying not to sound bitter, Feyre said, “Well, I actually have today and tomorrow off, so I was wondering what you were doing tonight.”

A pause.

“You know I own a bar, right?” Mor asked, as if Feyre were dense.

“Yes, of course.”

Another pause, then, “And you know it’s Super Bowl Sunday, right? It’s a busy night for us. Well, as busy as a tiny ass bar in the suburbs can be.”

Feyre laughed. “Oh, no worries, I’ll see you some other-”

“Wait! Why don’t you come?”

“Oh... uh...” How could she get out of this? Fake illness?

A knowing town crept into Mor’s voice as she said, “Don’t even think about telling me you’re sick, bitch. You already said you don’t have anything to do tonight. Or tomorrow. Which means you can get drunk! Ooh, or laid!”

Feyre sighed. “Mor, I don’t want to watch a football game. And I definitely don’t want to get drunk.”

She could tell her friend was smiling as she said, “Just laid, then.”

Feyre rolled her eyes and stayed silent, trying not to think about how true that statement was.

“Fine. Come at like 11. It’ll be pretty empty by then. But you’re definitely drinking.”

She debated arguing, but Mor would likely show up and drag her out herself if she tried. “Fine. One drink.”

____________________________________________

Rhys couldn’t stop smiling as he drove himself and Cassian through the city in his truck.

“You know you’re a millionaire, right, Rhysie?” his best friend asked with a laugh.

He just rolled his eyes, having heard this argument at least 20 times. “Don’t hate on the truck. I’ve had her since senior year.”

“It’s rusting. You’re a millionaire. Buy a new one.”

“Nope.”

Cassian groaned. “Why not?”

“She’s been with me through every win, every loss, everything. You know I lost my-”

“Stop! You already told me, and I almost throw up every time I get in this ass-mobile.”

Rhys laughed and punched his shoulder, then said thoughtfully, “You know, I think it was right where you’re sitting.”

Cassian swore and scooted as close as he could get to the door.

“Don’t worry, you can get out. We’re here.”

As soon as he put the truck in park, Cassian jumped out of the cab and wiped the seat of his jeans off with his hand, making Rhys laugh.

He climbed out of the truck, his body still lined with adrenaline. He’d played his ass off, crushed the opponent, and carried his team to victory.

He supposed he had Cassian to thank, too, considering he’d also played his ass off and kept Rhys from getting pummeled.

Their success was echoing through the city on excited whispers. Both of them had already turned their phones off they were getting so many calls from team managers.

They walked into the wonderfully slow bar, nodded to the few people still around who luckily didn’t ask for pictures, and went to find Azriel.

He was sitting at the bar, chatting to the bartender. Even though the bartender was hands-down one of the most attractive women he’d ever seen, it was the woman near Azriel that gave Rhys pause.

Cassian saw the look on his face, smirked, and nodded toward the empty chair between Az and the girl.

A good end to a good night.

He winked, then slid in the chair, nodded to Az--who rolled his eyes--, and turned to the woman.

She had clear blue-gray eyes, dark blonde hair, and full lips. She was... exotic. Different.

He smiled confidently and said, “Hey. How you doing?”

It was a simple line, but one that worked countless times when paired with a southern accent.

He couldn’t tell if the look on her face was amusement or shock. “Where the hell are you from?”

That reaction was one he was used to, so he grinned and said, “Virginia.”

“What are you doing in Boston, then?”

He couldn’t stop his eyebrows from pulling together. She was in a sports bar, where his face had just been plastered on every TV for four hours, but she didn’t know who he was? “Work,” he said simply.

Rhys could feel his best friends’ eyes on him, but he ignored them. “So, what’s your-”

The girl turned to the bartender, ignoring him completely, and said, “Mor, I’m going to make a call.” She cut her eyes toward the men around her and murmured, “Watch my drink.”

Every single one of their eyebrows shot up. Did they look that much like criminals? Sure, they wore a lot of black, but every one of them were multi-millionaires. Did he come off like a date-raper or something?

The bartender, Mor apparently, rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t take it personally. Even balls to the wall drunk, she’s cautious.”

Rhys could tell there was more to that story but shrugged and asked for a beer.

Mor slid it across the counter and smiled knowingly. “She’s pretty, right?”

He just turned to Azriel and asked, “How have you been, man? Did you report the game?”

“Yeah, they had me follow your stats the whole time. Boring shit,” he replied, laughing.

“I bet you could hardly talk fast enough.”

“Cocky bastard,” Cassian muttered.

Azriel nodded to the bartender and said, “This is Mor, by the way. I’ve known her since I left the NFL. Mor, this--as I’m sure you know--is Rhysand and Cassian, although I call them Dumbass 1 and 2.”

“You’re a funny, funny man,” Rhys muttered.

Mor’s friend came back and slid into her seat. Mor put another drink on the counter. The woman raised an eyebrow. “I said one drink, Morrigan.”

“Morrigan? Jesus, you’re already drunk aren’t you?”

Before she could respond, Az said, “Mor, perhaps you’d like to introduce the guys to your friend?”

She smiled and said, “Guys, this is Feyre Archeron, my very best friend who loves me so much she’ll stay and have another drink.”

“Since you’re buying,” Feyre said sweetly, picking the drink up. “And because I know you’ll make me feel bad about leaving so soon.”

Cassian asked, his accent even thicker than Rhys’s, “Why the bad mood, gorgeous?”

She turned and leveled a look at him. “I’d rather be doing something else.”

Rhys rolled his eyes as his best friend leaned down towards the woman and smiled slowly. “Well, you should’ve told me sooner. I’d be glad to do something else with you, baby.”

Azriel and Rhys both looked at each other and shook their heads. Cassian flirted with everyone. It drove them insane, but it was at least predictable.

The woman unlucky enough to have his current affections set her drink down with a little too much aggression, making Rhys chuckle. “What’s your name?”

“Cassian,” he replied confidently.

“Cassian, believe me when I tell you I have absolutely no interest in having sex with you. Leave me alone and go shook a chicken or something.”

The look on Cassian’s face was priceless, and Rhys bit his lip to keep his laugh in. Like Rhys, he was used to women being very... open to his suggestions.

Before Cass could even retort, the woman looked to her friend and asked, “Who the hell are these guys? Your friends?”

Mor pointed to Azriel and responded, “He is my friend. Those two rednecks,” she jerked her head toward Rhys and Cassian, “I don’t vouch for.”

Rhys put a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “We’re Azriel’s friends, which makes us pre-vouched.” He turned to Feyre and smiled. “You single?”

________________________________________

“No,” Feyre said at the exact same time Mor yelled, “Yes!”

The man next to her smiled smugly. “Since you’re single, let me buy you another drink.” She opened her mouth, but he said quickly, “Say yes. It’s just one drink, darling.”

His accent was so ridiculous, it sounded like he should be riding on the back of a horse in cowboy boots and a hat.

“I said I’d have one drink,” she stated to Mor. “I’ve had two. I’m going home.”

“Of course you are.” Her best friend sighed dramatically. “You don’t care about me at all, do you? I haven’t seen you in a month, and you come to my bar and stay for all of ten minutes-”

“Mor-”

“Then try to leave, and I probably won’t see you for another-”

Feyre gave in with a huff. “Oh, my god, fine! I’ll stay. You’re so damn dramatic.”

Her best friend jumped up and down like a toddler, clapping her hands stupidly.

“Now I don’t have an excuse, do I?” She tried not to roll her eyes at how big Rhysand’s smile grin grew.

“Don’t get so excited. I’m just using you for liquor.”

“Fine by me,” he replied smoothly. “I’m trying to get you drunk.”

Despite herself, she laughed. She wasn’t used to such honesty. She definitely wasn’t going home with the guy, but she couldn’t deny how insanely attractive he was to her. The kind of attractive that drove women crazy.

He was so tall, he towered over her even sitting down. He had dark hair, tan skin, and the most unique shade of eye color. They seemed almost purple and practically glowed as they raked over her.

She turned to Mor and gestured for another drink. “You associate yourself with the strangest people.”

Mor just shrugged.

“So, what do all do for work?” she asked the men around her, trying to make conversation.

Rhys quickly said, “We’re- uh- in sports.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he didn’t give her a chance to ask any more questions. “What about you?”

She saw Mor roll her eyes, but she kept it simple as she said, “I’m a scientist.”

“That explains it,” Cassian said with a laugh.

This man had a special talent for pushing peoples’ buttons, it seemed.

She turned to him and narrowed her eyes. “I’m going to go ahead and guess that you ‘being in sports’ means you’re a football player, since everyone in this city is so obsessed with the sport. And you know what? Between the constant head trauma and the accent...” She looked him up and down with narrowed eyes, then said sweetly, “It explains a lot.”

Rhysand launched into a coughing fit. She saw Azriel glance towards Mor, but her best friend just shrugged and said, “Not a big football fan.”

“We can tell,” Cassian muttered.

“What kind of scientist are you?” Rhys asked, ignoring his friend.

Mor sighed, but Feyre said, “It’s complicated, but I’m basically a nuclear chemistry-”

“It is boring as hell, I assure you all,” Mor cut in.

Feyre rolled her eyes and sipped her drink.

Mor got a strange look on her face, bent down, and grabbed a bottle of tequila. “Who wants a shot?”

All three men at the bar raised their hand. Feyre just rolled her eyes. Looks like it was going to be a long night.

_____________________________________

As Feyre got up to use the bathroom, ignoring all of their taunts about having a small bladder, the bartender looked at Rhys and waggled her eyebrows.

“What?”

“Oh, we’re going to act like you weren’t just eyeing my best-friend’s ass?” She laughed, then said, “Feyre.”

“What about Feyre?” he said, keeping his voice neutral.

He liked her, sure. Over the past couple hours, she’d loosened up around him. She was... funny. And smart. And sarcastic.

And yeah, she was beautiful as all hell. He’d love to take her home, but... he wasn’t a relationship guy. Football took all of his time, and he traveled practically every weekend. The women he slept with were all young and didn’t care about anything other than his latest game.

Feyre was different.

“You like her, don’t you?” The bartender was nosy, that was for sure.

“She’s... serious.”

Mor raised her eyebrows, clearly waiting for him to continue, so he said, “I don’t date. And Feyre is... serious. She probably wants a relationship and marriage and all sorts of shit-”

“You know,” Mor interrupted, “I thought people were crazy for saying a southern accent makes people stupid. But you have got to be one of the biggest idiots I’ve ever met if you think that girl wants a relationship.”

“What?”

“She works over fifteen hours a day. Spends all her time in a hospital with nerds looking in a microscope. She wants nothing to do with a relationship, let alone marriage. Trust me.”

“Oh.”

The woman rolled her eyes and nodded to where Feyre was walking back to them.

Before she made it to the bar, he turned to Cassian and said quietly, “Get a ride back with Az.”

“Gladly. I hate that truck.”

He glanced toward Feyre and muttered, “Now, idiot.”

Cassian, brilliant actor he was, yawned obnoxiously and said, “Well. I’m gonna hit the hay.” He winked at Feyre. “It was nice meeting you, honey. Call me if you ever need some southern hospitality.”

She shook her head but a smile ghosted on her lips.

“I’ll refrain from the innuendo, but it was nice meeting you, too,” Azriel said to Feyre.

Mor followed the two of them toward the exit to say goodbye.

“You’ve had too much to drink to drive home,” Rhys stated as soon as they were alone. Feyre laughed, clearly onto his game.

He rose and extended a hand. “Come on. I’ll drive you back. I only had one drink.”

“Is this your version of southern hospitality?” she asked.

“Maybe.”

She seemed to consider this, then murmured, “It’s very different from Cassian’s.”

Rhys smiled. “I’d be happy to show you that version. Let me drive you home.”

“I live close to here,” she laughed. “I’m walking.”

He tried not to be too disappointed. The odds of her taking him home were slim anyway-

She slid off the stool and put a hand on his arm. “But Boston can be a dangerous city. Come with?”

_____________________________________________________

Rhysand got up from his seat and threw an arm around her shoulders. “Lead the way, darling.”

“You really have to stop calling me that. You sound ridiculous.”

She didn’t really mean it, though. His accent was... different. Sexy. He was sexy. Something he was most definitely aware of, but Feyre currently didn’t care.

Cobwebs.

He was funny and seemed nice enough and...

She ignored Mor’s knowing smile as they left, telling her she’d call her later.

“I have a feeling you’ll be busy,” she said knowingly.

She ignored that, too.

As they started the short walk toward Feyre’s townhouse, his arm still slung across her shoulders, she asked, “So, did you win tonight?”

She could feel his chest rumble as he laughed. “Yeah, we won.”

“And you played the...”

“Steelers.”

“Right. Congratulations, then.”

He seemed to think her lack of football-knowledge was amusing. “Why the hell do you live in Boston?” he asked with a smile.

She froze.

“What do you mean?” she said, trying to be casual.

She led them around a corner that led to her block.

“You hate football. You don’t like crowds. You could probably work anywhere. Why not live somewhere else?”

They walked up to her house, and she answered simply, “I moved here to do my PhD at Harvard, and they offered me a job. Made sense.”

“And do you like it here?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

She smiled, unlocked her door, and replied, “Ask me in an hour.”

He mirrored her grin, then pushed her by the shoulders through the door. “Give me two, and it’ll be your favorite place in the world.”

Feyre laughed, locked the door, then turned to him. Leaning against the door, she looked him up and down and muttered, “Clocks ticking, Rhysand.”

________________________________________________________

As Rhys opened his eyes, he was wonderfully aware of the weight atop him.

The naked weight.

Blowing Feyre’s hair out of his face, he smiled as she murmured something in her sleep. She was probably tired.

They hadn’t gotten much sleep.

Given how cautious she was when they’d first met, he’d half expected her to kick him out pretty early. Needless to say, he’d been pleasantly surprised.

When the feeling of her on top of him grew to be too tempting, he ran his fingers through her hair and murmured her name.

She shook her head, making him grin.

His fingers drifted over her back and he loved the way she felt in his arms. After a minute, she turned her head, chin resting on his chest, and looked up at him.

“Good morning,” she said simply.

He just pulled her up to him, pressing his lips to hers. She smiled against him, legs coming up to straddle his waist.

Rhys took in their position and smiled, leaning up to kiss his way up her neck. His lips brushed her ear as he whispered, “Cowgirl’s your favorite position isn’t it? And you say I’m country.”

He snickered, proud of his joke, then practically choked on the sound as she slid herself onto him. “Shit, Feyre.”

"No more jokes, Rhysand?” she murmured, rocking her hips slowly.

“Just Rhys,” he panted. He leaned forward to take one of her breasts into his mouth, and she gasped, the sound music to his ears.

“Rhys,” she moaned, fingers digging into his back.

“Yes, Feyre?” He gripped her hips to keep her still as he asked, “Do you need something?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, and he tried not to grin.

“I said ‘Good morning.’ Don’t make me liar.”

This woman would be the death of him. He laughed and released her hips, reveling in how she responded to every movement, every touch.

She picked up the pace, and Rhys just sat there with his teeth gritted and tried not to ruin the moment for both of them.

He could tell when she was close, her legs tightening around him, voice shaking as she called out his name. He pulled her hair, kissing up her exposed neck and across her jaw to her ear.

“Come for me, Feyre darling,” he whispered, pulling on the shell with his teeth.

She moaned, falling apart in his arms, and Rhys had to use sheer will to wait until she was done to finish.

This woman... was the definition of seduction. Even after a whole night together, he couldn’t get enough.

As they came down together, he looked at her and smirked. “Good morning.”

She smiled and kissed him, biting his lips gently. Even though he’d just had her, his body was ready for more.

He was about to flip them over when she ruined the moment and said, “You have to leave.”

She climbed off him, and he watched with amusement as she sprung from the bed, ripped the sheet off of him, and started pacing around the room.

She found his pants at him and threw them at him. “I’m serious, Rhys. I have to... do stuff.”

He ignored the clothes on his chest. They were both completely naked, and if he had anything to say about it, they’d stay that way for a while. “Like what? You told Mor you have the day off.”

“I do, but-”

“Then come here.”

She crossed her arms. “Rhysand.”

He sat up and extended a hand. “Just shut up and come here. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

_________________________________________________________

Oh, I’m sure you will, Feyre thought as she rolled her eyes and took his hand.

Then gasped as he used the other hand to rip the sheet off her and throw her on her bed.

She barely had time to process before he was on top of her, pressing kisses across her chest, down her stomach. Further.

Sweet Jesus, she thought. The man hadn’t let her sleep more than two hours last night. Not that she was complaining. The cobwebs were completely gone, that was for sure.

A moan escaped her lips as his teeth scraped her thigh, and he chuckled. She was about to flick his shoulder, but then his lips slid higher, and every thought emptied our of her head.

She couldn’t keep herself still as he kissed her, so he held her hips with both hands.

Hers found themselves in his hair and she pulled as he ran his tongue up her center.

“Rhys, baby,” she panted. She didn’t care how she sounded. Didn’t care about anything but the sight of his head buried between her legs.

She didn’t know if it was because she was out of practice or because he was some sort of sex god, but she was already close. Again.

By the time she came, her entire body was limp with pleasure and she was close to seeing stars.

When she opened her eyes, he was above her, smirking like a cat.

He leaned down to kiss her, but she flicked his nose in annoyance.

“If you try and fuck me again before I get some food, I’ll strangle you.”

Ignoring the warning, he buried his head in her neck and tugged on her earlobe with his teeth. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Feyre darling.”

She laughed against her better judgement, but pushed his shoulders until he let her up. If she didn’t eat something, she might pass out when they went again.

She grabbed his t-shirt from last night and threw it on as she walked to her kitchen. It came down to practically her knees, making her look ridiculous, but she didn’t care. It was soft and big and smelled like him.

“Pancakes?” she asked, turning around to catch him looking at her in amusement. At what she was wearing.

She raised an eyebrow, daring him to say something.

“Pancakes would be great.”

Feyre ignored the look in his eyes and started cooking. And kept ignoring it as he watched.

Every time she looked at him, he looked like he was five seconds away from throwing her over his shoulder and dragging her back to bed.

The idea of messing with him a little more was too tempting to ignore.

“Close your eyes,” she ordered secretively, reaching into her fridge.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but gave in when she raised her eyebrows.

She used a finger to tip his head backward, then whispered, “Open your mouth.”

His lips curved into a smile, then opened. She took the can of Ready Whip and sprayed some whip cream in his mouth, laughing as his purple eyes shot open, full of amusement.

“Cute,” he muttered, swallowing the whip cream.

She leaned in and licked some of the remainder off his bottom lip. He froze, then reached for her. Before he could get those arms around her, she walked to the stove and took the pancakes off.

Sliding an unhealthy amount toward him, she said, “Eat your breakfast, dear.”

Rhys gave her an annoyingly perfect smile and devoured the food. She looked at him as he ate, wondering how he looked like a Greek god when he ate like... that.

He looked up as he finished and laughed at the look on her face. “Baby, don’t invite a football player over if you don’t expect him to eat all your food.”

She took their plates and stuck them in the sink. When she turned around, he immediately strode over and grabbed her face, pulling her lips to his.

He kissed her thoroughly, then pulled back far enough to say, “Meet me in your bedroom.” Another kiss. “And Feyre? Bring that whip cream.”

__________________________________________________________

By the time Rhysand left, Feyre could hardly stand up. She had no idea how she was going to make it through her shift tomorrow, given that she was so exhausted she could sleep probably for a day straight.

That’s when she realized that for the first time in her career, she didn’t want to go to work. She wanted to call Rhysand and tell him to come back.

That’s not an option.

A relationship was out of the question. It’d be cruel to him to invite him back, knowing it would never go anywhere. For all she knew, he was trying to settle down. With a nice girl who’d give up her life to have his babies and be a football wife.

Hell no.

As she got out of the shower, giggling at how shaky her legs were, she told herself to forget him.

But when the phone rang, she was surprisingly disappointed when she looked at the caller id and saw it wasn’t him.

As soon as she picked up, Mor practically yelled, “How was it?!”

“How was what, Mor?”

“The sex last night, idiot. Was it good? I bet it was good. You don’t look like that and not have a seriously huge-”

“Mor! Calm down.”

She could tell her best friend was enjoying this way too much. “I’ll calm down when you tell me. Everything.”

Feyre laughed, then gave in and asked, “What do you want to know?”

“How long did he stay? Oh, you made him walk back to his truck in the middle of the night, didn’t you? Mean woman.”

When she didn’t respond, Mor pushed, “Unless you didn’t. When did he leave, Feyre? Hm?”

“An hour ago,” she admitted.

The howl that Mor let out was practically inhuman. “Oh my god! You nasty bitch! Or, wait. Is he the nasty bitch?”

Feyre laughed. “You have no idea.”

“I cannot believe you let him stay all day. He must be good. He’s good isn’t he?”

She didn’t have to think back to remember the answer to that question. “You have no idea,” she repeated.

Mor laughed. “I’m so happy for you. Are you seeing him again?”

“No, probably not.”

She stopped laughing. “And why the hell not?”

“I don’t date. It wouldn’t be fair to him to keep sleeping with him and lead him on-”

“You’re both idiots.”

That stopped her. “What?”

Mor sighed on the other end of the call. “He doesn’t date. At all. He’s seen with 20 year old blondes who probably don’t know their head from their ass. You don’t have to worry about him trying to tie you down.”

“Oh,” she said stupidly.

Of course he wasn’t the dating type. He was a professional athlete. Women probably threw themselves at him.

“For someone so smart, you really are an idiot.”

“You have a point. Look, I have to go. I’ll call you later.” It was only eight PM, but she could hardly keep her eyes open.

“Worn out, aren’t you?” Mor asked in a knowing voice.

“Good night, Morrigan.”

____________________________________________________________

Rhys wasn’t surprised to see Azriel and Cassian in his apartment when he got back the next day.

“You dirty dog,” Cassian said smugly, throwing a pillow at his head.

Rhys smiled and told him to shut his fat mouth. “What are you idiots doing here? Get evicted?”

“Waiting on your ass,” Azriel said. “We’re going out.”

“Not everyone got laid last night,” Cassian said sourly. “Ruined a good win.”

Az and Rhys both ignored him. “Wanna come?”

“I’m gonna crash, actually. I have an early meeting tomorrow with coach.” It was an excuse; he’d barely made it home without falling asleep at the wheel.

“Mmhm, an early meeting with coach,” Cassian said knowingly. “More like a late night with a pretty blonde.”

Rhysand just winked and said, “We made sure to avoid your seat in the truck.”

“Disgusting,” his best friend said bitterly as the pair walked toward the door. “I hate that truck.”

As soon as the door swung close behind them, Rhys showered and passed out.

_______________________________________________________

Three days later, Rhys was watching highlights from the game when his phone rang. He smiled as he saw the caller ID.

“Unless the hospital is calling to tell me I’m dying,” he said as he picked up, “I’m going to assume this is Miss Feyre Archeron.”

“Wow, an athlete with a brain,” the sarcasm flowed through the line clearly.

“I’m a package deal, baby. So, what’s up?” If this was a booty call, he’d make her say it. He’d definitely give in, but he’d make her ask first.

“I don’t date,” she blurted suddenly.

He paused, then said, “Me either.”

“Okay.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he just mimicked, “Okay.”

“Then come over.”

Rhysand smiled, looking at his watch. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

_____________________________________________________

Two months later, they’d spent practically every night together. Either he’d stay at her house and get kicked out at the ass crack of dawn when she left for work, or she’d stay with him and he’d wake up alone.

On the rare days her boss forbade her from working, they’d spend all day together, running errands, cooking, fooling around. Hell, she’d even come to one of his football practices. “Out of pure boredom,” she’d claimed.

He’d never tell her, but seeing her had become the best part of his day.

Sure, he’d resigned his contract for the next year to keep his dream job, but even that paled in comparison to her coming over. He’d started to depend on her. He’d started to care about her.

Only Cassian--who gave him shit about it daily--knew. And had been told to keep his mouth shut about it.

Because he knew that as soon as he told Feyre, she’d bolt. He just had no idea why.

Sure, he’d said he didn’t date. He was thirty-eight and had a terrible relationship track record, having only had a handful of serious ones. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t try, right?

He’d never felt like this before... never been so desperate to spend time with someone. And it wasn’t just the sex like he’d thought for the first few weeks.

Because even when they weren’t having sex, he wanted to be around her. Wanted to hear her laugh, the one she let out when he surprised her or she made fun of his accent. Wanted to see her smile. Wanted to see her asleep in his bed, wearing his t-shirt.

He wanted her.

Ridiculous.

The first woman to openly not want a relationship with him, he can’t get out of his mind.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he noticed her staring up at him. “What?” he asked, worried everything he’d been thinking was written on his face.

“Nothing,” she said for the fifth time, stifling a giggle.

He rolled his eyes. “Just say it.”

“I cannot believe Dirty Dancing is your favorite movie!” She exploded, gesturing to the screen as if he were blind. “You’re a football player.”

“Which means I can’t have a good taste in movies?”

She shrugged. “It’s just not what I was expecting when you suggested we watch a movie. I figured you just wanted to come out here and have sex again.”

He grinned. “I did that for your sake. I figured if we stayed in bed any longer, you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

With her head on a pillow in his lap, she looked completely adorable as she looked up and stuck her tongue out at him. “How considerate.”

“Southern hospitality knows no limits.”

As they watched the movie, Rhys couldn’t help but sneak glances at her. She was... distracting. The ocean eyes, full mouth, and delicate features were pretty much a constant distraction for him.

When the final scene started playing out, Rhys grinned like an idiot and said, “Dance with me, Feyre Archeron.”

“What?”

“Come on. I wanna show you something.” He took her hand, hauled her off the couch, and took her to the biggest open space in his apartment.

He put his hands on her shoulders and told her to stay put, then walked to the other side of the room.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she said immediately, realizing what he had planned. “Absolutely not.”

Rhysand laughed and said, “Run and jump.”

“Hell no! You’ll drop me.” She crossed her arms and stayed put.

He rolled his eyes. “I promise I won’t drop you. You’re about a hundred pounds soaking wet.”

“No.”

“Chicken.”

“Excuse me?” she asked incredulously. “You seriously think that’s going to work on me?”

“Yep.”

“You’re right,” she admitted, barely giving him any time to prepare as she ran toward him, yelped, and jumped.

His hands wrapped around her waist as he lifted her up above his shoulders. She hollered like a wounded cat, but she stayed in the air and lifted her legs as he spun her around slowly.

She giggled as he held her up, and the sound was so adorable that as he let her down, he slowly dipped her. Her hair brushed the floor as he held her, wrapped his arms around her, and pressed a kiss to her lips.

He could tell she was surprised when she froze, but then she melted into him.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him close and opened her mouth for him. It was like it was the first time they’d kissed, and he couldn’t get enough. He kissed her like his life depended on it, and she responded to every movement. She sighed into his mouth and he drank the sound in.

When he finally brought her back up and pulled away, she had tears in her eyes.

“What?” he asked, concerned.

Feyre’s brow was creased as she brought a hand to her mouth. “I have to go,” she whispered.

“Feyre.”

She paced around his apartment, picking up her clothes and throwing them on as she went. “I have an early morning tomorrow.”

“You always have an early morning. What’s wrong?”

She pulled her boots on, zipped her jacket, and smiled tightly. “Nothing’s wrong. I’ll... see you later.”

He didn’t have time to say anything before she sped out the door.

Shit.

______________________________________________________

“He kissed me,” she said as soon as Mor answered the phone.

A pause. “He hasn’t kissed you before?”

Feyre sped down the road to her house, explaining, “Of course he’s kissed me. But this was different. He dipped me, Mor. Like actual dipping. And he kissed me. Not to get in my pants, but just because. Like he couldn’t stop himself.”

“Oh. You think he has feelings for you?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t want to find out.” This was the last thing she needed. The past month had been good. So good.

But it had to end. She didn’t want a relationship... even if the idea of never seeing him again hurt so much she couldn’t breathe.

He’d become someone to her in the two months they’d spent together. And even though it’d hurt like hell, she had to cut it off. Before it got worse.

“Feyre-”

“Don’t ‘Feyre’ me. I’m fine.”

Her best friend didn’t let up. “No, you’re not. Ever since Tamlin, ever since that night, you haven’t been fine.”

“Stop talking. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Of course you don’t.”

“Mor-”

“He hurt you, and now you don’t trust men. You got freaked out tonight because this thing with Rhysand could be real, and you’re scared. You’re scared if you let yourself love him, he’ll hurt you.”

Feyre suddenly yelled, “Wouldn’t you be?”

The line went silent, so she continued, “Yeah, I’m fucked up because of my marriage. It’s pretty easy to figure out. But wouldn’t you be? I was with Tamlin for eight years! Did you know that after hearing your worthless and pathetic and that you deserve what happens to you for so long, you start to believe it? So unless you’ve dealt with that for eight years and been trapped in a marriage to someone like that for eight years, don’t you dare bring it up to me. I have to go.”

She didn’t give Mor a chance to respond as she hung up.

She pulled into her driveway, took a deep breath and told herself the tears flowing down her cheeks were from her fight with Mor.

_______________________________________________________

“We’re closed,” Mor yelled as Rhys walked in the bar, then looked up and froze. “Oh.”

“Tell me, Mor. Tell me what happened to her.” He knew there was a reason she’d been freaked out after he kissed her. He just didn’t know what it was.

“To who?”

He came and sat in one of the bar stools, leveling a look at her. “To Feyre. Why did me kissing her send her running for the hills? I know she told you. She hasn’t answered my calls in six days.”

She shrugged, trying to make herself look casual. “Maybe she’s just not into you.”

“She’s into me.”

Mor snapped, “Maybe she’s not.”

His eyes softened, and she knew he saw it for the lie it was. “What happened to her?”

He could tell she was struggling with not telling him. She might not. But he wanted to fight for her. Wanted to make her happy. He just had to know how.

She took a deep breath and said, “Feyre and I used to live in New York, you know. That’s where we’re from. And Feyre was married.”

He nodded for her to continue.

“They got married young, and he... changed. He... just.. he was so angry. All the time.” She took a shaky breath.

“At first, I didn’t notice it. I didn’t see that anything was wrong. But one night, about five years into their marriage, I went to their apartment for dinner, and I saw that she had makeup on her cheek. Not a lot, but... like she was covering something up.” A tear that rolled down her cheek.

“And he saw. That bastard saw me notice it.” She wiped her cheeks, trying to compose herself. “And I didn’t see her for three years. He wouldn’t let her go anywhere besides work. And he hardly let that happen.”

Rhys closed his eyes sadly, but she continued. “I didn’t see my best friend for three years. Until she showed up in the emergency room.”

His eyes snapped open.

“I’m her emergency contact. I don’t know why she never changed it when she got married, but she didn’t. So I got the call, and drove to the hospital, and she was-”

She swallowed a sob. “She was in a coma for two days.”

Mor cleared her throat. “When she woke up, I don’t know how to describe it. She was... different. I helped her divorce him and get a restraining order, but it wasn’t easy. He controlled all her shit. Bank accounts, everything. She was never the same. We left, packed up, and moved to Boston together. She didn’t want him to know where she lived. I think... sometime I think she’s still scared he’ll track her down.”

“It took her three years to even go on a date. Another to have sex. She says she’s fine, but ever since that night, she won’t let herself actually let anyone in her life. She’s always been a workaholic, but after what happened... I don’t know. It’s like moving on, having a life, makes her remember her life before.”

Mor sobbed, “And I don’t know how to help her. Because he’s a cop, you know. That’s why it was so hard for her to leave him. We had to go to the freaking governor to get the restraining order.”

A sob wracked her body, so Rhys leaned across the bar and pulled her into a hug. It made sense. Why him showing any sort of feelings freaked her out. Why she’d been cautious around him, Cassian, and Az when they’d first met. Why she didn’t want a relationship with him.

But it didn’t mean he couldn’t fight for her. That he couldn’t tell her that he’d never hurt her.

“Mor,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

She pulled back and wiped her eyes. “Well, now you do.”

“I want to be with her.”

She nodded, and smiled sadly. “I know.”

“And she wants to be with me, too.”

Mor nodded again. “Go get your girl, Rhysand. But, just be careful. And I swear to God, if you’re anything like him-”

“I’m not,” he interjected.

“-I’ll shoot you. I’m not making the same mistake twice.”

“I’m never going to hurt her. You can count on that. Do you think she’s still at the hospital? If she’s not going to answer the phone, I’m gonna track her ass down.”

________________________________________________________

Feyre scribbled down her note, then peered back into the microscope. She knew it was late, but it’s not like she had anywhere to be. The thought sent a pang through her chest, but she ignored it.

She was so distracted thinking about how big of a mess she was that she didn’t hear him come in the lab.

“Feyre,” a familiar male voice said from behind her.

She spun around and opened her mouth to scream, but he was faster. She cried out as his fist connected with her ribs, but he stifled the noise when he slapped a hand over her mouth and shoved her against the door.

She tried to swing a fist toward him, but he pinned her arms against the door.

“It’s been a long time,” Tamlin said, smiling. “It took me a long time to track you down. You know how I found you? Paparazzi posted a picture of you leaving some football player’s apartment at three in the morning. Little whore.”

She whimpered as he squeezed her jaw.

“So I came to see you. At first, I wanted to punish you. You were my wife. Mine. And then you go and divorce me. For no reason. I wanted to know why.”

Howie, she thought desperately. If she could signal Howie, he’d come and save her.

She ignored what he was saying, blocked it out, and bit his hand as hard as she could.

Tamlin jumped back with a surprised yelp and she barely had a chance to scream before his fist connected with her eye. She fell to the ground and he kicked her in the side, making her curl into a ball.

“You bitch! Why are you screaming? If you’re trying to get that fat security guard, he can’t hear you.”

No one’s coming. A tear ran down her cheek onto the floor.

“Now, as I was saying,” he continued as if nothing had happened. “At first, I wanted to punish you. I had it all planned out.”

He knelt on the floor, brushing the hair off her cheek.

“But then I realized something. I realized you ruined my life. You told everyone I worked with, hell you told the governor, that I abused you. You got me kicked off the force.”

“Why are you here? What do you want?”

Please leave please leave me alone-

“I want you to suffer for what you did-”

“I do-”

Her cheek stung as a palm connected with it, making her cry out.

“Do not interrupt me again.” His voice was so cold, so calculating. “I want you to suffer. I want you to lose everything, like I did. But the only thing you ever cared about is work. And I couldn’t get you fired. No, you’re too good at your job.”

She shook with fear as he smiled down at her.

“But then I thought, if the job won’t lose you, you can lose the job.”

He ran a thumb over her lip, and she was paralyzed with fear when she realized the bitter taste in her mouth was gas.

“What did you do?” she asked softly.

His fist closed around her throat. She clawed at his hand, kicked at him, tried everything, but she was stuck. It had never mattered how hard she fought.

When her vision started to fade, he let go.

“Don’t question me,” he snapped as Feyre hauled oxygen into her burning lungs.

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a lighter, grinning down at her.

Feyre’s stomach bottomed out.

She had to think, had to do something. Or else she was going to die in here.

“You were so consumed by your work, you didn’t even smell the gas I lined this fucking room with. Always so distracted by your work.”

He laughed softly, “And now you’ll burn with it.”

He flicked the lighter open, and time seemed to stand still. Feyre didn’t let herself hesitate as she reached onto the counter, grabbed the beaker she knew was sitting there, and broke it over Tamlin’s head.

He swore and closed the lighter, then swung at her. She rolled away from him, placing a kick in between his legs that had him gasping for air.

She got up and sprinted for the door. Her fingers were closing around the handle when he caught up to her, grabbing her head and slamming her face into the metal door frame.

Feyre sank to the floor, and Tamlin knelt in front of her. She tasted blood, felt it running down her face, and knew from experience her nose was broken.

As he punched her in the stomach, she could tell she’d have a ruptured spleen.

He was still dripping wet from the beaker, but he leaned close and laughed.

He opened the lighter close to her face, the heat warming her skin.

“You always were a fighter.”

This is it. If she didn’t fight now, it was over. He’d drop that lighter, and they’d both go up in flames. Together at last.

Gritting her teeth, she told herself she wasn’t going to die here tonight. She was going to live.

She was going to kill her ex-husband.

Bringing her knees close, she rallied her strength and kicked his chest as hard as she could. As he fell backward, she jumped to her feet.

Before he could react, she grabbed the lighter out of his hand, threw it on his chest, and rushed out the door.

What Tamlin hadn’t realized when he’d lined the room with gas was that there were more chemicals in there than anywhere else in the hospital. He didn’t even have to use gasoline. But now that he had, one open flame, and the whole place was going to blow.

She ignored the growing flames on the other side of the glass as she engaged the door’s security lock. Ignored Tamlin’s screams as the petrol from the beaker reacted with the oxygen in the air and the present flame, erupting in flames twenty times hotter than usual.

She ignored everything happening around her except Rhysand.

Rhysand, who was running toward her, a confused and terrified look on his face.

She had no idea what he was doing here, but she sprinted full force at him, also ignoring the fact that he was a professional football player. She wrapped her arms around him and tackled him to the ground as the room behind her erupted.

Glass and debris and pieces of paper still on fire rained down on them as she looked down at him.

She laid on top of him, shielding him as best she could, and grabbed his face. Please be alive, please be alive.

His eyes shot open, arms coming around her to brush debris off her back.

“Feyre, are you all right? What the hell happened?” His voice was fuzzy, like she was underwater.

She probably had a concussion from where Tamlin had slammed her against the door.

Tamlin.

Tamlin was dead. She’d killed Tamlin.

“He’s dead,” she whispered. “He’s dead.”

Rhys was shaking her, telling her to stay awake. Alarms were going off, the sprinkler system sensing the fire and raining a flood down on them.

He was screaming her name.

She just looked at him and smiled softly. “I love you, by the way,” she whispered. Like it was the easiest thing she’d ever said. Like she’d been waiting to say it.

“I love you,” she whispered again.

Then passed out.

_______________________________________________________

There was something warm and heavy on her lap. And it had hair.

She opened her eyes and looked down at Rhys, peacefully sleeping with his head resting on her legs.

Gently, she ran a hand through his hair.

She was in a hospital bed, that much was obvious. There were probably police men outside waiting for a statement from her about why her much-beloved lab had been blown to pieces under her watch.

She knew from experience that as soon as she officially woke up, she’d be surrounded be nurses and police officers and doctors asking how she felt and...

She ran a finger down Rhys’s cheek.

She knew he was awake when his mouth twisted into a smile and he murmured, “Do that again.”

She did.

His eyes opened to meet hers, full of worry and passion and anger.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hi.” He picked his head up and put a hand on her cheek. “You’re so beautiful. This gown suits you.”

She knew he said it to distract her, and smile tugged at her lips, even as tears sprung to her eyes.

She was in the hospital. Again. Because of her ex-husband. And Rhys was here. He’d probably never look at her the same after this. Would probably pity her now.

He leaned in, and she thought he was about to kiss her, but his mouth landed on her cheek instead. As he licked her tear off her face.

“That’s disgusting,” she murmured, not pushing him away as he moved to the other cheek.

He pulled back and grinned.

“Mor told me about your ex-husband,” he said softly.

Before she could reply, he surprised her by murmuring, “And I honestly don’t know why you say you don’t have any country in you.”

Had he hit his head when she’d tackled him?

“What?”

“Considering you barbecued his ass,” he finished with a laugh.

Despite how awful and wrong that was, a giggle escaped her. And another. And another, until she was laughing along with him.

“That’s so fucked up,” she said, still smiling.

“Yeah, it is, but it’s all I’ve been able to think for the past four hours.”

Then his smile faded and his eyes grew serious. He put both hands on her face and pulled her close to him. “Feyre.”

“Rhysand.”

“It’s over now. He’s never going to hurt you again. No ones ever going to hurt you again. I’m so proud of you.” He said it all in the softest tone possible, and it made her chest hurt with how much she needed those words.

“I killed him,” she whispered, the reality of it crashing into her.

He shook his head. “You defended yourself. He was going to kill you. You fought like hell, and you won.”

Feyre nodded, pulling him closer until his weight was on top of her and his arms were around her.

“You kicked his ass,” he murmured through her hair. “My little brawler.”

She smiled, running her hands over his back.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to her.

She pulled back far enough to say, “What do you possibly have to be sorry for?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get here faster and I didn’t protect you-”

“Rhysand.”

“Yes.”

She shook her head and flicked his nose. “Shut up.”

“Okay.”

He hugged her again. “You should know,” he said a moment later, pulling back to give her a smile, “that Mor is outside with Azriel and Cassian.”

“Oh, God.”

“Yeah. I think they had to give Mor a sedative to calm her down. I’ll go get her if you want.”

Feyre shook her head, deciding to give herself another moment before dealing with that brand of crazy.

“Do you remember what you said to me? After you tackled me? Which, by the way, was insanely sexy.”

She knew under the humor was a twinge of anxiety, so she said, “I could talk about the homo-eroticism of what you just said, but I’ll give you a break. You’re under a lot of stress.”

Rhysand grinned and raised an eyebrow.

“I love you,” she murmured. “You know I do.”

“I do,” he replied smugly, smirking like a cat. “I love you, too.”

He leaned down and kissed her softly, ignoring the probably nasty black eye and bruised jaw. He kissed her, and she didn’t care about anything in the world.

Until the door banged open.

“You’re awake and you didn’t tell me!” Mor screeched, running in the room and throwing herself on Feyre, bruises be dammed. “Of course you didn’t because you wanted a chance to make out with your boyfriend before you did. Selfish, Feyre! Selfish!”

“Mor,” she muttered, hugging her back tightly. “I’m awake.”

“You’re such a bitch,” he best friend laughed.

“I love you, too.”

Rhys laughed and got out of his chair, probably going to talk to his friends and update them.

For the first time in years, everything felt right. It felt good. She was excited for tomorrow, not because of work, but because for the first time in a long time, she had people in her life she was going to fight to keep there.

For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t afraid.

_____________________________________________________

FUCK sorry this is so long! I literally had no intention of taking this route when I started writing it, but shit happens when it’s 2 am and you’ve had a long week.

As always, feel free to send me requests/asks/whatever. I love hearing from yall.

@bamchickawowow

#feysand #feysand fanfiction #rhysand #feyre #feyre archeron #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of dreams #a court of starlight and frost #feyreandrhysand #feyre darling #feyre x rhysand

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inkedstarlight · 4 years

Note

If you’re taking prompts then “we’re not supposed to be doing this kiss” and “against the wall kiss” for feysand please! Also please could you tag me in your writing, i love it!

Feyre was caught off guard when a hand grabbed her arm and tugged her into the nearest empty classroom. “What the fuck?” she exclaimed, shocked yet unsurprised to see Rhysand closing the door behind them. He turned to face her, his lips curved into a frown. “Mr. Nichols, what are you doing? I have a class to teach in fifteen minutes.” Feyre had been teaching at Velaris Elementary School for about two years. She met Rhysand Nichols just seven months ago when he was hired as a second grade teacher. During his “Welcome to Velaris” party (the principal prided himself on his parties), Rhysand introduced himself to the whole staff. The female teachers swooned over the attractive and young teacher. He paid them no mind that day, instead approaching Feyre with a slight smirk. They made small talk until the party ended and everyone parted ways to go home. Rhysand was quiet around most of the staff, though respectful at all times. But with Feyre, he was different. Goofy, outgoing... flirtatious. Whenever they crossed paths during the school day, he would be sure to stop and talk with her. He managed to fit a cheesy pick-up line in every conversation they had. When they had staff meetings, the two of them would share glances throughout the whole hour. During their lunch break in the staff room, Rhysand began sitting next to Feyre. He had a tin Superman lunch box and it was fucking adorable. And from what Feyre had heard, he was a wonderful teacher. All the kids gushed abut him, even those who didn’t even have him. Even her kids! Those traitors. After a few months of Rhysand working at Velaris, they exchanged phone numbers. They quickly got in the routine of texting every day after school ended and calling on the weekends. The more Feyre got to know him, the more attracted she became. But even though they became close on the phone, they remained professional at work. Well, sort of. They weren’t quite professional when Rhysand brushed his fingers against hers. Or when he stood so close to her that she smelled his intoxicating scent of pinewood and snow. Or when she was making coffee in the staff room and he reached over her to get packets of sugar. Unfortunately, their boss was strict on work relationships. And the last thing Feyre needed - or wanted - was to get fired. She couldn’t risk that. So when Rhysand kissed Feyre for the first time last week, she immediately shut him off. She stopped talking to him. She avoided him to the best of her abilities on school days. She didn’t answer his calls, didn’t listen to his voice messages. They hadn’t spoken in a week. And now here they were. In an empty classroom with nowhere to go. “Mr. Nichols, I really need to go,” Feyre insisted. She couldn’t stand looking at the hurt on his face. “Why do you keep calling me that?” Rhysand asked incredulously. “It’s professional.” “There’s nothing here,” he gestured between them, “that is remotely professional!” “We can’t do this, Rhysand.” He shook his head. “Bullshit. Tell me you don’t want this. Look me in the eye and say it." Feyre said nothing. She couldn’t lie. She wanted Rhys, there was no denying that. “I can’t.” Rhysand’s eyes flared as he stormed towards her. He backed her up against the wall, his hands cupping her cheeks as she looked up at him. When their eyes met, Rhysand crushed his lips against hers with reckless abandon. Feyre moaned in response. She grabbed at his waist to pull him closer. Deepening the kiss, she invited his tongue into her mouth with pleasure. Rhys growled as they kissed each other like they were never going to stop. “We’re not going to be fired, you know,” Rhys told her between kisses. “We just have to fill out one of those ‘we’re in a relationship’ forms for HR.” Feyre pushed him away slightly. She raised a brow. “Really? How do you know?” Rhys smirked. “I already got the forms from Principal Higgins.” Feyre’s jaw fell to the ground, but it quickly formed into a grin. “You’re amazing.” She kissed him softly, Rhysand’s strong hands running through her hair as they celebrated together. The bell sounded, signaling the end of fourth period. Rhys backed away, and Feyre slipped out of his reach. They were breathing heavily, staring at each other with intense eyes. “I -” Feyre started, but she was quickly interrupted when the door opened. A group of kids stood in the doorway. All of them wore shit-eating grins when they saw both their teachers alone in the room. “Mr. Nichols liiiiikes Miss Archeron!” a little girl squealed. She clapped her hands with excitement. Feyre looked at Rhys with wide eyes. But instead of looking as shocked as her, Rhys was smiling back at the students. “I think you guys have it the wrong way,” Rhys said coyly. He leaned in to whisper-shout, “Miss Archeron has a crush on me.” This time, all of the kids laughed and clapped their hands. When Rhys looked back at me, Feyre was glaring daggers at him. He gave her a wink.

(Sorry for the delayed response! I also apologize if this isn’t great. I kind of just flowed with the idea but idk if I executed it great)

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #feyre archeron #rhysand #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #fluff #my writing

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epochofbelief · 4 years

Text

Breath Control, Chapter Ten

an A Court of Mist and Fury College Swim Team AU

Feysand and Elriel

All characters belong to SJ Maas

Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

Author’s Note: Is it too early to apologize?

Enjoy!

Full Fanfic: Masterlist Link

TEN

~~~Feyre~~~

The world spun around me as I slammed back through the glass doors into the dark hallway of the club. I could have sworn I heard a voice shouting my name from far behind me but that was probably all the alcohol talking. I mean, I was going crazy right? Surely it hadn’t taken all of two days before my brand new boyfriend decided to cheat on me? I was just imagining that. Right?

I stumbled through the bathroom door and barely made it to a stall before I hurled up everything left in my stomach.

“Shit,” I spit out. Then--

“Shit,” I said again as I somehow managed to puke up even more alcohol. It was red--what had I been drinking that was red?

Fairly certain I was done emptying my stomach, I wiped my mouth, flushed, and emerged from the stall.

My eyes directed at my shoes, I bumped directly into Rhys’s hard chest.

“Get the fuck away from me,” I said quietly, pushing off his chest and stalking over to the sink. Well, I tried to stalk. The few steps from the stall to the sink seemed to take years, rather than a few seconds. Everything was spinning, ever so slightly.

“Feyre, you’ve got to let me explain.”

“No.”

“Feyre, please.”

I turned at his desperate tone of voice.

“Were you or were you not just kissing Amantha? I mean, Amarntha. You know who I mean!”

Alcohol, you are not my friend tonight.

“I was. But--”

“No buts! That’sss called cheating, Rhys, in case you didn’t know. So get out of my way. I’m going--”

I realized I had nowhere to go. I was staying with him, for crying out loud. I did have my car at his place... But I was drunk.

So I was stuck.

“I’m going somewhere and you better not follow me there! Wherever there even is!” I was shouting now, and Rhys looked like he wanted to keep talking, but I turned, stumbled, and burst back through the bathroom door into the quiet dark of the hallway. I ran as fast as I could without falling flat on my face and didn’t stop until I was in the center of the dance floor.

Bodies pressed against me tightly from every direction. Only two people grabbed my ass on the long journey to the middle of the group. I was pretty sure I was crying, the world spinning around me thanks to the alcohol and what I’d just seen, when I finally found Mor. One look at me and she stopped dancing.

“Feyre!” She shouted, gripping my wrists with her hands. “Are you okay?”

I shook my head. “I have to leave. Can you call me an Uber? I don’t have the app!”

Mor nodded, looking concerned. She pulled me outside of the club and we sat on the curb, leaning against each other as she fumbled around in her pockets until she found her phone. Ten minutes later, our collective drunken efforts resulted in a successful call for an Uber.

When it pulled up, I looked at Mor. “Wait, where are you sending me?”

She shook her head as though trying to clear it. “No, no. We’re going to my place! Where I hope to hear everything.”

At her mention of “everything,” I started to tear up again. Damn it. Sad drunks were the worst and now I was one of them. Mor merely tugged me off the curb and we collapsed into the back of the Uber together. Twenty minutes later, we were outside yet another massive estate on the edge of town.

“You Nights don’t mess around,” I mumbled.

“What?” Mor asked, giggling a little.

“Nothing, nothing. Can we just go inside?”

She nodded seriously and led me around to the back door.

“My father really doesn’t approve of my inclination to party, so I have to sneak in and out. Shhh,” she added before another fit of giggles hit her. That was Mor. Her upbeat mood could not be beaten, even while drunk and with a crying friend tagging along behind her. And I was full-on crying by now.

Mor carefully unlocked the back door. She led me into an enormous kitchen bathed in shadow. We made a brief stop so Mor could grab a huge bag of chips and a couple bottles of water. Except for a close call that involved a cat on the staircase, we made it upstairs unnoticed.

Mor’s room was the first door on the right on the second floor. She led me inside, flipped on the light, and proceeded to flop down onto her enormous bed in the center of the room. Her room was… like a fairytale. The four-poster bed, hung with gauzy white curtains, seemed to float freely in the center of the room on a white fluffy carpet. The pale blue walls were covered with pictures of her and her friends, band posters, Polaroids, and other various paraphernalia. A terribly cluttered white desk sat on one side of the room, and a white dresser on the other. In one corner there lay several enormous white bean-bag chairs covered in luxurious blue and gold pillows and blankets.

“Alright, Archeron,” Mor said, sprawled across her bed, her shoes kicked off and her mouth stuffed full of chips. “Please tell me why we just fled the club faster than Cinderella at midnight.”

I wasn’t sure why, but I chose to sit down on the floor in the center of her bedroom, halfway between the door and the bed. “I don’t even understand what just happened, Mor.”

“Well, tell me and I’ll help you puzzle through it. And maybe start with why we stranded Rhys at the club?”

I let out a groan and flopped onto my back. The ceiling was still spinning, but only a tiny bit now.

“Drink this,” Mor said and chucked a water bottle at me.

I jumped as the water bottle landed right next to my head. Then I sat up, chugged it down, and put my head between my knees.

“Mreesechertedonme.”

“What?” Mor said sharply.

I raised my head. “Rhys cheated on me.”

Mor sat straight up on her bed. “What,” she said again.

I sighed, then explained what I had seen and heard. The tears kept coming as I told her about Amarantha and Rhys admitting to me what he’d done.

Mor looked thunderstruck. Her water bottle, which had been halfway to her mouth when I’d broken the news, was slowly dripping water onto her shirt. “And he said he wanted to explain? I’m confused. Rhys would never do something like that. Ever. Especially not to you.”

“What do you mean, especially not to me?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re not serious.”

“Serious about what?”

“Rhys has been in love with you from the moment you set foot on campus for your recruiting trip.”

“That’s a bunch of bullshit. I barely knew Rhys until like a month ago, when he saved me from the Halloween party.”

Mor shook her head slowly, her mouth hanging open. “No,” she began, eyes wide, “it’s not bullshit. I don’t know if you remember much about your recruiting trip. But Rhys and I were freshmen that year. You showed up to campus, your usual gorgeous self--” she winked at me “--and Rhys was a goner. He thought you were so pretty, and so cool, and you talked about books or something for like five seconds and then he thought you were so smart, too (which you are). And when the team decided to make the really dumb decision of drinking with the recruits that weekend, you turned down every offer for sex, drugs, whatever, that came your way from the upperclassmen guys, no matter how drunk you were. Not that he would have judged you if you had. But he could tell you knew what you wanted. It would have been easier, as a senior in high school on a recruiting trip, for you to do and say whatever the upperclassmen wanted in order to fit in. But you had those values, and you stuck to them. You surprised him.

“And then,” she added, laughing as I stared at her in disbelief, “you, drunk off your ass, got up on that table in the middle of the party, and announced to everyone that you were committing to swim at Prythian as soon as you sobered up enough to call the head coach. May I repeat--he was a goner.

“So,” she added somewhat awkwardly. “I hope he doesn’t hate me for telling you that shit. There’s a lot more behind it but I wanted to explain a little because you’re so obviously clueless!

“But none of that excuses him cheating on you, of course.”

Now it was my brain that was spinning instead of the ceiling. Rhys had been acting suspicious around me since the Halloween party--I had suspected his feelings even then, unwilling to admit it to myself. But I would never have guessed that he’d been interested for over two years… Why on earth had he cheated, then? Being drunk wasn’t an excuse. But it didn’t make sense that someone who was supposedly… in love… with someone else would go and cheat on them two days into their very new and fragile relationship.

I couldn’t puzzle this out right now. “Yeah. Um. I just want to go to sleep. Can you take me to Rhys’s in the morning so I can get my car and leave?”

Mor nodded sadly. “I wish things turned out differently,” she said. “But I do think you should talk to him.”

I shook my head. “Maybe. Where can I sleep?”

She patted the bed. “Right here. I’m about to pass out anyways.”

I merely stood up and shuffled over to the bed. I kicked off my shoes, tossed my rings and bracelets on the ground. The last thing I remember was how impeccably soft one of Mor’s pillows felt against my cheek as my tears dripped onto it.

~~~Elain~~~

***three days later***

I really did not want to do life for the next few weeks.

Okay, that might have been a slight over exaggeration. Really, I just didn’t want to do my classes and finals for the next few weeks. Christmas break was coming up, and the last thing I wanted to focus on during the holiday season were my exams. Nursing was hard--why had I decided to do this, again?

Of course, I did have one thing to look forward to now that I was back in Prythian.

Azriel.

We’d spent hours on the phone, texting, since the storm had stopped and Azriel had walked me to my car. He hadn’t kissed me. I’d wanted him to. And he seemed like he had wanted to. At least, that was what it seemed like.

I pulled my car into the parking lot, locked it, and started the trek to my eight hour long Monday morning nursing immersion ‘course’. I didn’t even want to think about all the ‘fun’ I’d be having until five pm tonight. But I only had to make it until five. Then I was meeting Azriel in the Student Union for dinner. His practice ended around five, so the timing was perfect. And I did like my degree, and job. It was just going to be very difficult to concentrate when I knew who I’d be seeing at the end of it.

Focus, Elain. Do your job.

Eight hours later, I shuffled out of the building, exhausted but satisfied after a hard day’s work. I barely made it to my car. I sat there for a moment, reclining the seat all the way back, and told myself I could close my eyes for just two minutes.

Twenty minutes later I jerked awake.

“Shit!”

I put the car into Drive and made it across campus to Student Union parking in what had to be record time. Still in my scrub top, I raced across the parking lot, body slamming my way through the front doors and directly into an extremely tall male standing just inside of them.

“Oof! I’m so sorry--Az?”

“Elain?”

“Uhhhh…” I suddenly became aware of what I must look like. I was wearing scrubs, my hair hadn’t been touched since that morning, and forget about makeup. Not to mention the crazed look that was probably in my eyes after my accidental nap and subsequent frantic race across campus. “Hey!” I gave him a hug.

His arms wrapped around me and as if by magic my body relaxed. Shoulders falling, I sank into Azriel’s strong chest, my head barely coming up to his shoulders. I breathed out. “This is nice.”

“It is,” he agreed.

“But I’m starving.”

He chuckled as I broke away from him and made a beeline for the line to the fast-food place that served the best chicken in the whole world. At least, it was the best chicken in the whole world when I was this starving and had no other options.

The line was way too long for a Monday night on campus. I was definitely going to die--of embarrassment at my appearance or hunger, I wasn’t sure which would kill me first.

“Elain?”

“Huh?”

“I asked you a question.” Azriel grinned. “But I understand if you were too busy bouncing on your toes to listen.”

I lowered myself to the ground and chuckled awkwardly. “I’m sorry--I’ve just had a horribly long day and haven’t eaten since eleven o’clock this morning.”

“I love it when you laugh like that.”

“Like--what?”

“When you’re uncomfortable--you have this laugh you do and it’s honestly the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

I covered my face with my hands and stepped forward to the front of the line. “Ohhhh my gosh. That’s so embarrassing.” I clenched my jaw to keep myself from laughing again.

Azriel gently prised my hands from my face and then put his fingers under my chin and pressed slightly. “Don’t do that! I live for every embarrassed laugh from you.”

I swatted his arm away--but I was smiling. “Alright. If you get to keep my embarrassed laughs, I’m gonna need something cute and embarrassing to hold over you.”

“Good luck finding one. I’m the portrait of smooth,” he said, rolling his eyes, hands in his pockets.

“We’ll see about that,” I said as I flounced up to the register. Azriel insisted on paying for my food--after he swore to let me pay for our third date. (Third date!!) It was ready before we’d finished paying and he swiped the tray before I could get to it. He carried it over to a table and chairs on the second floor balcony of the Student Union. I flung myself into the chair, resting my wrists on the armrests and slouching down.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Azriel said.

I raised my eyebrows and put my chin in my hand. “What makes Azriel Umbra uncomfortable? Hmmm..”

He shook his head, rolling his eyes.

“That’s it!” I said. Several heads whipped over to stare at us. “I mean,” I whispered, “That’s it.”

He sat down across from me. “What’s it?” Eye roll.

“You roll your eyes way too often. Like, way too often.”

I watched him attempt to restrain the eye roll.

“See, now that you’re aware of it you’re incredibly self-conscious.”

He stared at me. Then rolled his eyes. “I give.”

“Ha!”

Toward the end of the meal, I decided to be nosy.

“So… have you talked to Rhys recently?”

He looked up from his food so fast I thought he’d give himself whiplash.

“He mentioned a couple of things.”

I put my elbows on the table. All around us, the Union was emptying out for the evening.

“Feyre won’t give me any details about what happened between them. All I know is they went to a party, Rhys did something, and Feyre drove straight back to school from his place the next morning. She didn’t even come home to see if I wanted a ride. And I’ve heard squat from her since. They just seemed so… happy.”

Azriel sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I never actually saw them when they were ‘together-together’ because they got together over the break, but I know that whatever must have happened, Rhys didn’t do it on purpose. I’m not sure how much to tell you, but… he’s liked Feyre for a very long time.”

I bit my lip. “She was just so different while we were at home for the break. Much different than she’d been since she started dating Tamlin. Carefree, bubbly, talking with my father, joking with Nesta, of all people. I don’t know what to do.”

“I’ll try to get more out of Rhys. All he said on the entire car ride back to school was that he made a mistake, it was out of his hands, and it was probably better for Feyre if she hated him anyway. And I know that’s not true.”

“Let me know if he tells you anything else.”

“I’ll try,” he said. “Shall we go?”

He walked me back to my car. It was full dark outside, only the light of the streetlamps guiding us.

I opened the driver’s side door and threw my purse in. “I had a really good time--”

The world never heard the rest of my sentence because he kissed me before I could finish it.

His kiss was gentle, his hands cupping the sides of my face. My hands fumbled up to wrap around his shoulders as his lips caressed mine, increasing the pressure slightly. I understood and his tongue swept in. I ran one hand down his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his t-shirt, my other hands pulling him closer to me.

But he pressed one more kiss to my lips, then kissed the top of my head. “Good night, Elain.”

I gulped down air, the chill of the night surprising me as soon as his body moved away from mine.

I smiled at him and he kissed me again, briefly this time. “Good night, Elain,” he said again. “And there’s the laugh I was looking for!” He exclaimed after I chuckled nervously, but not unhappily, after the kiss.

“Oh go to hell!” I said, and he rolled his eyes. Purely for my benefit, I knew. I didn’t stop smiling the whole drive home.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tags

@aknymph @sleeping-and-books @queen-of-glass @fabfire

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf #a court of mist and fury #acotar au #a court of thorns and roses au #feysand #elriel #feyre #rhysand #azriel #elain #feyre archeron #feyre x rhys #feyre x rhysand #sarah j maas #fanfiction #acomaf ff #breathcontrol ar ff

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nomattertheoceans · 5 years

Text

Feysand Holiday Fluff Fest - Day 28

Did you say something?

Prompt: my family invites you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and i’m so sorry - 1,5k words

Feyre was nervous.

It was stupid, because it wasn’t the first time she was eating over at the Knight’s house. As Mor’s best friend since the fourth grade, she had been here quite a number of times. But she had never received such a formal invitation before, the boys’ mom had even called her to make sure she was free. So here she was, standing in front of their door, not knowing what to expect at being invited at a formal holiday dinner.

She rang the doorbell and waited, and Mor opened the door almost immediately.

“Good, you’re here!” She grabbed her and pulled her inside.

“Why are you so excited? What’s going on?”

“I’m not excited. Come on in.”

They went into the kitchen and were greeted by the smell of various holiday meals cooling down on the table.

“Feyre, you’re here,” Mor’s aunt greeted her, and Feyre smiled.

“Hi, Mrs Knight, how are you?”

“Oh good, good. How is your Freshman year going, so far?”

“Good. Yale’s art program is great so far.”

“And do you get to spend some time with Rhys?” Feyre felt her smile falter, but he had promised he wouldn’t say anything, and she trusted him. So she forced her smile back on her lips and answered in what she hoped was a normal voice.

“A little. Not as much as I see Mor, of course.” She turned to her best friend in hope that she would approve, but Mor seemed too busy with sorting out something in the fridge to come to her rescue.

“Well still, Mor told me you two were studying together quite a lot.” She felt herself blushing, mostly because of how most of their studying sessions ended, but she nodded.

“We are. Can I help you with anything?”

“Sure. Can you grab this plate, and Mor, take this one. I’ll meet you in the dining room in a minute.”

They did as they were told and lifted the plates to leave the kitchen. As soon as they were in the corridor, Feyre stopped Mor in her tracks.

“What has gotten into your aunt?”

“About what?”

“You know, talking about Rhys so much and asking if we’re hanging out.”

Mor shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess she just wants to know how your year is going.” They entered the dining room, and found Cassian, Azriel and Rhys already sitting, chatting loudly. They all greeted Feyre, but her eyes met Rhys’ who gave her a large grin. Mor set down her plate, grabbed the one in Feyre’s hand, and pushed her with her hip.

“Feyre, why don’t you sit beside Rhys today?”

“O - okay.” Why she wasn’t sitting beside Mor, where she always sat when they dined at her home, she didn’t know. Had Rhys said something to her? Why he would have done it now when they had managed to stay quiet for more than two months was a mystery, but she didn’t see any other plausible explanation for his cousin and his mom’s strange pushy behavior.

So she sat down beside Rhys, and decided on ignoring Mor until she could talk to him in private.

***

The dinner started normally, and for half an hour, Feyre thought she might have imagined what had been happening. Everybody was talking and laughing, and she felt glad for the invitation, the dinner reminding her of every night she had spent at their house as a teenager, building pillow forts with Mor and the boys, eating candies until they all fell asleep right there.

But then Mrs Knight started asking her questions again, uncomfortably personal questions.

“So Feyre, are you dating anyone at the moment?”

She felt Rhys tense up beside her, and she forced herself not to look at him as she answered. “I’m not, no.”

“What about you, Rhys?”

She saw Rhys choke on the water he’d been drinking, and she felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. He mumbled a quiet ‘no’ and went back to his plate. She needed to make her change the subject. So she turned to Mor.

“Mor, you’ve been seeing that girl from your intro to gender study class, right?”

Mor grinned at her. “I have. But we already know all about that. What we don’t know about is you, Feyre. I live with you, and yet I haven’t seen you go on any dates. Maybe you should try it.”

And before she could answer, Mrs Knight talked again. “Exactly. I know leaving Tamlin must have been hard at the end of high school but -”

Cassian laughed at that, interrupting her. “Yeah right, she dumped him and she was right to do so, that jerk.”

And Feyre smiled at him, because she could always count on Cass to be on her side. “I did, and I really don’t feel bad, believe me.”

“Well, all I was going to say was that it’s not good staying hung up on old relationships.”

“I’m not. I just... “ again, she avoided glancing at Rhys. “I haven’t met many people yet.”

“Well, maybe you should try dating somebody you already know.” And she looked at Rhys intently, who did his best to ignore his mother’s stare. Feyre coughed. She really wanted to speak about something else, so she turned to Cassian. “Cass, how about you, anything exciting happening at Cornell?”

As she hoped, Cassian started talking incessantly, and she was able to go back to her meal.

***

“Rhys, Feyre, do you mind going to get the pies in the kitchen?”

Feyre would have said no, just to avoid playing into whatever game his mom was playing, but she really needed to talk to him in private. So when he got up, she followed him out of the room and down the corridor. Eager to be alone, she moved past him and entered the kitchen first. She went to grab the first pie, when she felt both his hands rest on her butt. She jumped in surprise, but before she could turn around, his hands moved from her butt to her waist, and she felt his lips rest on her neck, leaving a trail of kisses in their leave.

“Rhys, what are you doing?”

“Kissing my girlfriend,” he whispered against her ear, chuckling when she shivered at the sensation, his hands roaming around her belly as he pressed himself into her more. “You’re so sexy today, I couldn’t think of anything else during dinner.”

She bit back a moan at the sensation of his body so close to hers, and let her head rest against his shoulder for a moment, relishing in the feeling of his kisses on her skin.

But then she remembered where they were, and straightened up in his arms, resting her hands on the kitchen counter.

“Rhys, your entire family is in the other room.”

“So?”

“So, I thought we weren’t ready to tell yet.”

And he must have understood what she was asking him, because his lips stopped, and he rested his face on her neck, his arms more gentle around her, not as eager as they’d been a second before.

“I didn’t tell them anything, Fey.”

“Then what’s going on?”

“I don’t know, really. I mean, you know my mom always liked the idea of us getting together.” She knew. That was one of the reasons why they had decided not to tell anyone about the fact that they were dating. They didn’t want the pressure of their families to weigh in on their relationship. “But she’s never been as forward before. I’m thinking, maybe Mor realized what’s been happening and she told her.”

She turned to face him and looped her arms around his neck. “You mean, Mor would know and she hasn’t told us about it?”

“Maybe she doesn’t know exactly but… I mean, you two literally share a room now, and she might have noticed you spending more time with me. I don’t know, maybe she thinks we’re flirting or something.”

She chuckled. Flirting. That was one way to describe what they were doing when they were alone. He seemed to think the same, because he bent down and captured her lips in his, a soft kiss that she never wanted to end. But of course, they had to stop. She pushed away slowly and looked into his eyes.

“We have to go back or they’re gonna come look for us.”

“I know.” He paused, and she waited for him to formulate what he had in mind. “Do you want me to tell my mom to stop bothering you?”

She thought for a minute. “You know what I would like? For them to know. I don’t want to hide anymore. I want to be able to hold your hand in public whenever I want.”

He smiled at her, and nodded. “Tonight?”

“No. I’m not that ready yet.” He laughed. “How about on New Year’s Eve?”

He considered for a moment. “Alright, on New Year’s Eve, then.”

And he kissed her again, before they grabbed the pies and went back to the dining room, a new certainty in their hearts.

Current tag list (send me an ask if you want to be tagged, I have a hard time keeping track of the comments):

@summernightskyy @illyrian-bookworm @amren-courtofdreams @vanilla28 @rory050 @philosophorumaurum02 @illyrianbeauty @kybaeza @sincerely-unidentified @highladyofthesith @the-regal-warrior @inrealliampain @kiss-my-maas @highlady-of-dusk @amusedowl @highladyofelfhame @fucking-winchester-trash @sleeping-and-books @l0sts0uls1128 @secret-lil-rendez-vous @everything-that-i-love @kingdomofbrokenhearts @fourshizzle149 @musicmaam @voiceoftheroses @avenrebekah @queenofdorkville @outofstyles13 @bow-dawn @iliveforfandoms226 @city-of-fae @welcometothespeaknowworldtour @notyourclassicshadowhunter @ellenoftroy @tonystarksbish @propagandaprincess @thelaughingzeebra @ame233 @hopelesslyinlovewithbooks @shadowstar2313 @eve-of-the-night-court @quakeriders @fireheart-of-your-dreams @feeoly @yikesitsmaddie @buffykitten @alifletcher2012 @faefromthenorth @emmejo26 @lowhangingtreebranches @mynewdreamwasyou @goldfishh20 @feyrearcherons @ttakeitbacknoww @rtheinkqueen @thereaderandfangirl @the-last-apprentice @whilma-warfstache @julemmaes @meltalgel-ig @wifeofchrishemsworth @worldoffae @thesurielships @chemicha @kindofawalkingpoem @rowaelinforeverworld @booksstorm @empress-ofbloodshed @awkward-avocado-s @thesirenwashere @tswaney17 @belamoonbeam @faequeenaelin @hedwig1751 @booksatteatime @over300books @keshavomit @redqueen-marecal-lover @musicalfae @girl-who-reads-the-books @thehuntersmoon-haven @joyceortiz13 @rainy-bookish-days

#Feysand Holiday Fluff Fest #feysand fanfiction

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theladyofdeath · 5 years

Text

V O I D { F O U R T E E N }

Chapter 14. An ACOTAR fanfiction.

Nessian. Elriel. Feysand.

Previous chapters: Fanfic Masterlist

“I like the night. Without the dark, we'd never see the stars.” ― Stephenie Meyer, Twilight (sure did)

Azriel couldn’t control his nerves which only made him more nervous.

The second he knocked on the door, his hands were shaking. He had to shove them into his pockets to keep from showing his embarrassment, his anxiety.

And when Elain opened the door? He was breathless.

He begged his mind to come up with something to say, but he came up short. He cursed, first in his head, then aloud, causing a bright, beautiful smile to capture Elain’s face.

Azriel was weak in the knees.

“Hi,” he said, at last.

“Hi,” Elain replied, cheeks pink.

“You look…” Azriel’s words trailed off, because anything he would have said would not have been good enough for the goddess standing in front of him.

“Thank you,” she said, anyways, stepping out of the doorframe and onto the front porch. “You, too.”

Nesta was in the hallway behind Elain, smiling mischievously, making Azriel feel even more uncomfortable than he felt.

Uncomfortable, but excited.

He had been out with a handful of girls in the last few years, but none of them made him feel the same way that Elain did. She was different. She was perfect.

Elain closed the front door softly behind her, Nesta disappearing behind it.

“So,” Azriel said, clearing his throat. “You ready?”

Elain chuckled, softly, looking down at her dress. “Yes, I am.”

Azriel, realizing it was a stupid question, nodded and held out his hand. She happily accepted it and he helped her down the front porch steps, refusing to let go of her hand until they reached his truck. He opened the door, helped her inside, and let out a long, loose breath on his walk back to the driver’s side.

They road in silence, although it remained fairly comfortable. Azriel had never been good at taking the lead in the conversation, although it had always been easy with Elain.

With the exception of now.

He wanted to impress her but didn’t know why. He had never worried about impressing her before. But now? He felt like he suddenly wasn’t good enough.

“So,” he began. “I hope you like Italian food.”

“Love it,” Elain assured him.

“Good,” Azriel said, nodding his head uncontrollably.

“Good,” Elain repeated.

Azriel felt the need to facepalm himself, but his hands only tightened on the steering wheel.

“Are you okay?” Elain asked, after a minute.

Was he? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t answer, making the silence even more uncomfortable. In his mind, he scolded himself.

But when he looked at Elain, he smiled. She was watching him, brow raised, amusement lighting up her deep, brown eyes.

“I just want to be with you, Az,” she said, quietly. “I want you for you.”

The nerves didn’t leave him, but he laughed. He actually laughed, for the first time in a long time, his heart felt light. He nodded, carefully, reaching over the middle seat and taking her hand.

Nesta and Cassian sat in Hale’s library, neither of them saying a word.

He was nervous.

She was nervous for him.

Hale had yet to arrive.

“You okay?” Nesta whispered.

Cassian shook his head, but said no more.

By the time Hale entered the room, Nesta and Cassian were thrumming with anxiety and anticipation.

He sat in a leather armchair, eyes on Cassian. “I’m glad you came. I was surprised. I thought my doorman was joking with me, honestly, when he said you were waiting in here.”

Nesta smiled, but Cassian’s expression didn’t change.

“I wasn’t sure I was going to come, to be honest with you,” Cassian whispered.

Hale nodded. “I understand.”

Nesta felt uncomfortable, as if she was intruding on something precious. She pretended to fade into the background as the two men stared at one another.

“I’m not sure what I wanted to tell you,” Cassian began. “But, I know that I wanted to see you again.”

Hale’s hard demeanor softened.

“I’m glad you came.”

Cassian nodded, and Nesta suddenly regretted her offer to join him in his meeting with Hale. Nesta loved Hale, and she had grown fond of Cassian, as well, but sitting between the two of them left her feeling more uncomfortable than she had in a long while. She wanted them to have a moment alone. But, she sat perfectly still.

“I want you to meet my sister,” Cassian said, after a minute of silence. “Cecily.”

Hale let out a long, loose breath. “I’d love to meet her.”

Cassian nodded, jaw locked. “I’ll bring her by tomorrow?”

“Maybe we can have lunch?” Hale suggested.

Cassian nodded, again, and that was it. The two men said no more. Nesta wasn’t sure what she expected to happen during this meeting, but she hadn’t expected it to be so short. Nonetheless, Nesta gave Hale a hug before walking out of the mansion with Cassian at her side.

The minute the door shut behind them, Cassian let out a high, manic laugh.

Nesta raised a brow. “You’re scaring me.”

Cassian shook his head, smile still spread wide on his lips. “That...was nothing like I expected it to be. I had a speech planned out in my head, that I arranged on the drive over here...and it went nothing like I had planned.”

“And how did it go in your mind?” Nesta asked as they strode further down the driveway.

“Far less…” Cassian paused, “awkward.”

Nesta barked a laugh, unable to control herself. She had to agree. It was awkward.

“Don’t laugh,” Cassian muttered, but he was smiling. “At least I went.”

Nesta’s smile softened. “Yes, at least you went.”

Cassian stopped and turned to Nesta. “I...want to thank you-”

“It’s not a big deal-”

“Yes, it is.”

Nesta’s eyes met his, and for once, her breath caught in her throat.

“Why do you want to help me?” Cassian asked, quietly. “You’ve been pestering me for months, but we hardly know one another.”

Nesta tilted her head to the side. “I have spent a long time wondering if anyone else feels the way I feel. When I met you...we feel the same. You understand me, and I understand you. We don’t have to know everything about one another...we understand each other. Our minds, yours and mine...they are the same.”

Cassian nodded, hazel eyes softening. “I have waited for someone to come along who understands the chaos that is my mind.”

“It seems we’re both a little crazy,” Nesta said.

Cassian chuckled. “It seems so.”

Nesta stopped in the driveway and faced him. “So, what now?”

Cassian met her gaze and smiled. Not a fake smile, not the cocky one he typically gave out, but a real, genuine smile. “Now we move forward.”

“And how do we do that?” Nesta asked.

Cassian’s grin widened. “Want to walk with me?”

Nesta pretended to weigh his question for a minute before answering, “Okay.”

Rhysand stood in the threshold of his old bedroom, heart heavy.

He hated it. He hated those four walls, the four walls that once seemed to close in on him so often. Yet, he was back, bags in hand, ready to sleep in the bed he had once slept in.

His dad hadn’t said a word when Rhys had told him that he was moving back in. He obviously couldn’t play basketball, which was the original agreement, thanks to the crash that left his body broken and bruised.

Reina was happy to have him back. She had greeted him with a big hug and a soft sob, helping with his bags back into his old bedroom, right across the hallway from hers.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Reina said from behind him.

Rhysand twirled around, eyeing his little sister as she meandered in her own doorway.

“I know it wasn’t an easy choice,” she continued, “but I like having you here.”

Rhysand nodded, and turned back to his room. He had only been gone for a few months, but it felt like a lifetime ago that he occupied that room. His childhood trophies sat on floating shelves beside his bed, posters covered his walls.

He had trouble entering. Not only because it was his father’s house, but because he was a different person the last time he had been in that room. “Rhys?” Reina asked, concerned from the doorway behind him.

Rhysand took a step inside his old bedroom. “I’m glad to be back too, Rein.”

Reina smiled. “You don’t have to be here, you know. Me and mom were getting along just fine. You deserve to live your own life.”

Rhysand turned, ever so slowly, and met his little sister’s gaze. “This is where I belong.”

“With dad?” she asked, arms crossed.

“No, with you,” Rhysand corrected. “And with mom.”

“And when you go to college next year?”

Rhysand frowned. He hadn’t thought that far. He would be going to college next year. At least, that was the plan. And then what? It would be him moving out all over again. Unless he went to a local community college. It wasn’t his dream, but Velaris Community College was nice. He could go there, if it meant staying with his family.

If it meant keeping Reina and his mother safe.

When Rhys said nothing in return, Reina sighed. “I love you, Rhys. But you were so miserable here-”

“I’ll be fine,” Rhysand said, forcing a smile. “It’s going to be great. I promise.”

Reina nodded, although she still seemed unsure. After giving him a gentle nudge in the arm, she left him alone to his thoughts.

Rhysand felt lost in the quiet. He had felt so certain coming back home, but now that he was there, the nerves were settling in.

He had yet to see his father. He and his mother were gone on a business trip. When Rhysand arrived and found Reina alone, he was half relieved. He hadn’t realized how intimidated he still was of his dad, after all these years.

But he was doing the right thing.

He knew he was.

Just, unfortunately, sometimes the right thing was the hard thing.

And this new situation of Rhys’ was difficult as hell.

Their date had gone better than Elain thought possible.

Azriel was the perfect gentleman. He treated her with the utmost respect from the time they got to the restaurant to the time that they left. He pulled out her chair, offered his jacket when she caught a chill from sitting on the patio, and grabbed for the check before she could even offer otherwise. He smiled at her constantly, ate with forced manners, and laughed at every lame joke that she attempted.

On the car ride home, their fingers danced against one another’s. Elain was in paradise. She had never had such a perfect first date.

Her heart felt lighter.

Her soul was just a little bit freer.

When he pulled into her driveway, she didn’t want it to end.

“When will I see you again?” Elain asked.

“Soon,” Azriel promised. “As soon as possible, I hope.”

Elain’s smile widened. “I would ask you to come in, but everyone’s home and…”

“I understand,” Azriel chuckled. “Can I call you?”

“Of course,” Elain smiled, fingers still brushing along his.

Azriel cleared his throat. “Good.”

“Good,” Elain repeated.

Before she could get anything else out, Azriel met her gaze. And before she could comprehend what she was doing, Elain leaned across the center of his truck and pressed her lips softly to his.

At first, he tensed beneath her touch, but his hands soon found comfort along her lower back.

Elain let all doubt fall out of her as she crawled across the bench and settled onto his lap.

She hadn’t realized that Azriel’s hands could be so comforting and lustful all at once. And yet, she did not push him away. Instead, she melted in his arms and fell apart.

#tacmc void #elriel #nessian #feysand #acotar #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm

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thebluemartini · 5 years

Text

Far From the Shallow - Chapter 13 [Nessian Fic]

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

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

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12

TAGGING: @bohemiandreams27 @queenofillea1 @trash-for-nessian @nestaarcheronwillkillme @my-fan-side @strangeenemy @maastrash @cageddovepoetry @bybooksanddreams @lilbat90 @ritamordio19 @mastercommandercaptain @feysand-dot-acotar @archeron-queen @welcometothespeaknowworldtour @empress-ofbloodshed @there-is-warmth-in-winter @mybbyfeyre @saltydreamcollector @justlikethecheshirecat @mis-lil-red @supebowlere @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @sezkins79 @everything-that-i-love @hashtolanashoba @lord-douglas-the-third @rhysandsdarlingfeyre @hikari274 @acotar-and-tog-for-life @ellenoftroy @ink-nibs @highlordofthenightcourttrash @sesquipedalian-aficionado @tintinnabulary

*This chapter is also posted on AO3 and FF.

A/N: My deepest apologies - it took 3 weeks to post a new chapter instead of the usual 2! Sighhh. Unfortunately, that's what happens when you lose a weekend of writing time when you go out of town! So thank goodness you weren't left on a cliffhanger?

This chapter is either the longest or the second longest one, so I hope that makes up for the wait! Also, just want to say this fic is keeping its T rating :)

________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 13: June/July

June

For the remaining weeks of May, Cassian managed to return to Velaris every night with the help of Rhys and Feyre. It was in June, however, that Cassian was unable to keep to that routine, with Rhys’ and Feyre’s lack of availability some nights, and Cassian’s schedule to meet and train with all the Illyrian camps growing more rigorous.

It was early one morning at the beginning of June when Nesta was bidding him goodbye that she told him it wasn’t necessary for him to come back each night, saying that the training with the camps had clearly been taking its toll on him and he’d needed to get sufficient rest each night instead of being awoken by Dahlia’s cries throughout. She also expressed that while she enjoyed sleeping beside him, her and Dahlia didn’t even get to really see him or spend time with him.

Reluctantly, Cassian listened to her but not being able to sleep beside Nesta plus constantly fearing he would miss significant milestones in Dahlia’s life didn’t exactly improve his sleeping habits.

But he never let a week pass without him visiting them for one full day. And on those days, he’d relish in being with Nesta as they cuddled with Dahlia, bathed her, fed her, burped her, read to her, and played with her. He of course would also flap his own wings around to amuse her.

And as he did so, Nesta would give him a look that told him there was no way he could take her flying with him.

(At least not yet.)

It was the anticipation of those special days each week that got him through his time in the mountains. On those days, he’d feel like he needed to pinch himself to ensure it wasn’t just a dream.

But it was all real. He finally had a family to come home to and a place where he belonged.

________________________________________________________________

Nesta missed the feeling of Cassian’s hands wrapped around her each night. She’d grown so used to it when he slept beside her each night of May.

But she had noticed the weariness in his eyes. Toward the end of the month, he had started arriving at Rhys and Feyre’s estate later and later, mostly after she had put Dahlia in her crib and she herself had gone to bed. It would be an hour or so later that she would sense the mattress sink in beside her and feel the press of his lips against her temple and an arm snake around her waist.

And then before dawn, he’d be awake, ready for Rhys to winnow him away. But it was a rule between them, that no matter how “peaceful” she may have looked, he would always wake her up to say goodbye.

Before he left Velaris to return to Illyria for the first time after the birth, Cassian was always the first to get up during the night whenever Dahlia cried. But during his visits after his return to Illyria, he would often be so exhausted that sometimes he didn’t even stir at the sound of her cries.

Nesta certainly wasn’t upset about it. She knew how badly he wanted to be there for both of them. One night, when he discovered Nesta was awake to soothe Dahlia, he apologized profusely for not hearing Dahlia awake and insisted he take over in cuddling with her so Nesta could go back to sleep, but Nesta wouldn’t have it.

She felt worried about him. His talk of what was going on at the camps was very limited, but she knew he was likely overworking himself in an effort to make Illyria a safe place for them to live as a family.

So, as gently as she could, she told him it wasn’t necessary for him to visit each night, especially since they didn’t really get to spend time with each other. Plus, she didn’t mind waking in the middle of the night to calm Dahlia since her sisters helped so much with Dahlia during the day, giving Nesta plenty of time to nap and remain fairly well-rested.

It took Cassian a little while before he very reluctantly agreed to follow her wishes. But a day never went by without them sending at least one message to each other. And every week, he would come to the estate and spend a full day with them… Those days were the ones she treasured the most.

But right now, she really wished Cassian was with them for the night.

Because Dahlia, for some reason, refused to stop crying.

Her wails were especially loud, and holding and rocking her did nothing to soothe her at all. Nesta tried sitting in the rocking chair with her, reading to her, bouncing her up and down, feeding her, and walking around the room as she held her, but absolutely nothing was working.

This had never happened before. Sure, there were some nights where Dahlia cried quite a bit, but eventually she would calm down. This was the longest she’d ever cried.

And Nesta couldn’t help but feel that Cassian would know what to do. He could probably flap his wings and that would be enough for Dahlia. She always seemed to become quiet sooner whenever it was Cassian who tended to her.

But she couldn’t bother him with this. He was probably deep in sleep anyway.

Suddenly, there was a knock on her bedroom door before it swung open to reveal the sleepy faces of Elain and Feyre.

“Is everything all right?” Elain asked before yawning.

“I can’t get her to stop,” Nesta expressed helplessly as she rocked Dahlia in her arms.

“Here, let me try holding her,” Feyre said with outstretched hands.

Nesta stepped away from Feyre, as if to hold the baby away from her. It was instinctual for her to not want to lose control of a situation.

But she quickly realized what she’d done and moved back near her sister, carefully handing Dahlia to her.

Feyre cradled Dahlia in her arms and attempted to gently hush her as she glided around the room. Her and Elain watched them, and upon noticing no change in Dahlia’s cries, Elain turned to face Nesta.

“Maybe we should get Cassian?” she suggested. “She always seems to cry less when he’s around.”

It was true. When Cassian was around, not only did Nesta feel happier, but even Dahlia seemed to be more content as well.

“It’s the middle of the night,” Nesta protested. “He doesn’t need to be bothered by this.”

“But Nesta, I think he would want to be bothered by this,” Elain replied.

But he already had so much on his plate… What more could be done anyway that hadn’t already been tried?

“I don’t think - ”

“I’ll get him,” Feyre cut in as she stopped in front of Elain and handed Dahlia to her.

Before Nesta could even object, Feyre vanished, having winnowed away.

Nesta sighed. What could possibly be causing Dahlia to cry this much?

Within a matter of minutes, Feyre appeared with Cassian in tow. His eyes found Nesta’s immediately, as they always did whenever he was winnowed to the estate whenever she wasn’t sleeping. He strode toward her and grasped her hand to squeeze it in greeting. He knew she wasn’t fond of public displays of affection. To her, their relationship was something special between only them. While her sisters, Rhys, Azriel, and Amren were well-aware of their relationship, she relished in the privacy of their love.

So his kisses for her were saved for when they were alone or in front of only Dahlia.

“What’s wrong, my baby girl?” Cassian asked as he turned toward Elain and took Dahlia from her arms. First, he lifted her up with his hands beneath her underarms. Bouncing her a bit, Cassian flapped his wings as he did so. But the wing flapping did not have their usual effect. Dahlia’s cries did not stop.

Cassian stared at her in concern before bringing her to his chest, letting her head rest against his shoulder. He looked over at Nesta.

“How long has she been crying?”

“For over an hour,” Nesta answered, and Cassian’s eyes widened.

He swayed his body back and forth as he started rubbing Dahlia’s back. But as he did so, his hand suddenly paused its motion and he looked curiously down at Dahlia. He moved over to the crib to lay her down and started pulling off her clothing.

“What are you doing?” Nesta calmly inquired out of curiosity.

Once Dahlia’s clothing was removed, he picked her up again and laid her head against his shoulder. As he looked down at her back, Nesta looked as well and gasped along with her sisters.

On her back were two long black strips of raised skin.

“I think she’s growing wings,” Cassian explained.

Nesta felt frozen in shock. “But I thought you said she wouldn’t have wings?”

“All Illyrians I know have had wings since the day they were born,” he said. “I’ve never seen this before.”

Nesta’s mind was racing. She didn’t plan for this. How was she supposed to handle this?

“So the wings are hurting her? That’s why she’s crying?”

Cassian nodded. “I think so. We need to send for Madja. She’ll have the proper oil to rub along her back to soothe her.”

“I’m on it,” Feyre piped in before vanishing.

“Poor thing,” Elain remarked.

Nesta just stared at Dahlia, feeling awful for her, knowing her baby was in pain. She wished she could take it away from her. She stepped closer to Cassian and grabbed Dahlia’s hand. “I’m sorry, my angel,” she whispered in the midst of the wailing.

It was at least ten minutes before Feyre and a very sleepy Madja appeared. The healer took Dahlia from Cassian’s arms and inspected the marks before holding her against her body and pulling out a vial from her pouch.

She started rubbing the oil from the vial on Dahlia’s back. “She is growing wings,” she confirmed, speaking loudly over Dahlia’s wailing.

“But the marks of the wings should have appeared right when she was born. Not when she’s one month old,” Cassian stated.

“I suspect they were delayed because of your fall,” Madja said with a pointed look to Nesta. “Her body must’ve been injured, and now her wings will be slower to develop.”

Worry flooded through Nesta. So there had been negative effects of her fall after all…who knew what other ways Dahlia could be affected?

Madja must’ve noticed the alarmed look on her face. “When I checked her last week, everything was fine. She is still perfectly healthy. No need to be concerned.”

Gradually, Dahlia’s cries softened. Once Madja had stopped rubbing oil onto her back, Nesta gathered her in her arms, and Cassian wrapped his arms around Nesta.

“Rub this on her back every twelve hours and she’ll be fine,” Madja instructed as she put her vial down on the nearby nightstand. “She’s just in pain from her wings growing.”

“Thank you,” Nesta whispered, trying not to hug Dahlia to tightly to her body for fear of hurting her back even more. Luckily, it seemed like she was falling asleep.

“I’ll come back in a few days to check on her,” Madja added before looking over at Feyre.

“I’ll take you back,” she said before grabbing Madja’s hand and winnowing out of the room.

Elain came up to Nesta and placed a soft kiss on Dahlia’s head, then looked up at Cassian. “Thank goodness you came,” she said before giving Nesta a pointed glance. “Goodnight,” she said before walking out of the room.

With Dahlia now sleeping soundly in her arms, Cassian removed his arms from Nesta’s body so he could easily lean down and plant a kiss on Dahlia’s head.

Nesta walked over to the crib, then lifted Dahlia up and gave her a kiss before gently laying her down to continue sleeping. “Goodnight, my angel,” she said quietly.

As soon as she turned away from the crib, Cassian captured her lips in a brief kiss. Whenever he came to visit, he always took the first opportunity when no one was around to kiss her...and it never failed to leave her breathless.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he whispered as he leaned his forehead down against hers.

“Hello,” she breathed. “Do you need to go back to Illyria tonight?” She wondered how long she would have with him.

“No, I’m cancelling everything scheduled for tomorrow to stay here with you and Dahlia,” he replied as he pulled away and grabbed her hand to lead her over to her bed.

“You didn’t need to do that,” she remarked as she followed him.

“Yes, I did. I’m in severe need of time with my favorite girls,” he said as she laid down on the bed. Cassian followed suit, laying with his chest up against her back and his arm around her waist.

“We just saw you three days ago,” Nesta pointed out.

“It’s never enough,” Cassian stated.

Nesta grabbed his hand that was wrapped around her and brought it up to her chest, hugging it and placing a kiss upon it. “I agree,” she whispered. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Feyre said you didn’t want to admit you needed me here. That it was Elain’s idea I should come.”

Nesta fought back the urge to sigh. Why did her sisters have to get involved with this?

“I figured you were sleeping. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“But being here for you and Dahlia is more important than that,” he noted seriously.

“You’ve already done so much for me,” she said. “I don’t expect you to do anything more for me.”

“But...I always want to be there for you. I would do everything for you if I could.”

“I know…but you have important duties to attend to. I don’t want to be a distraction.”

“Sweetheart, you are a welcome distraction,” he emphasized, and the whisper tickled her ear. “And if you ever need me for the slightest thing, I want you to tell me.”

Nesta released his hand and turned her body to face him. “But you need to focus on -”

“I need to focus on taking care of you and Dahlia,” he interrupted fervently.

She gazed into his hazel eyes as she placed a hand on his cheek. “You love me too much.”

“And you deserve every bit of it.”

She stroked his cheek with her thumb. The intense look he was giving her was always too much for her, making her come undone. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you,” she mumbled with a tinge of amusement.

“I know what you should do,” Cassian said. “You should contact me whenever you need help.”

Nesta sighed again. “Well, thank the gods you did come tonight, or else I may have never known what was bothering Dahlia,” she remarked, and then her voice took on a very serious tone as she thought about what it would mean now that they knew Dahlia was growing wings. “Are you jealous?”

“Jealous?”

“That...she’s Illyrian and not...of your Illyrian blood,” she explained awkwardly as she brought her hand down to his chest. “I...used to sleep with Illyrians whenever you made me mad, just to spite you,” she admitted quietly.

He pushed the stray strands of hair out of her face and behind her ears. “Well, you successfully made me jealous back then when I found out about it. But that’s all in the past now. As for Dahlia’s wings, while I’ll always wish she were truly mine, I’m excited that I’ll get to teach her how to fly.”

Nesta smiled at the visual of him teaching their little girl how to fly one day. “I’m glad she’ll at least...kinda look like you by having Illyrian wings.”

Cassian stared off dreamily to her bedroom window as he caressed her side. “It will be nice to share that with her and teach her to fly. I’ve...been afraid because I’m away so much that she won’t really need me when she has you and your sisters.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes and placed her hand on his cheek again to force him to look directly at her. “What? That is ridiculous. Of course we need you. We both need you! You’ll teach her how to defend herself, how to be a leader, to be loyal and courageous, how to love others a completely ridiculous amount!”

“Well, I just wish you’d let me know whenever you need help with her, so I can truly feel like I’m a part of her life.”

“I will!” Nesta said in a panic, not realizing that Cassian had been feeling this way. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to feel that way at all.”

“I know,” he said gently. “I just...don’t want to be like my father.”

Nesta shook her head as she began stroking his cheek. “You are nothing like your father. You know this.”

Cassian sighed. “It just hurts to be away from both of you.”

“Which is proof that you aren’t like your father,” she stated. “You haven’t discarded us. You make it a priority to see us.”

Cassian shifted his gaze back to the window, seemingly deep in thought. Nesta used her forefinger to start tracing along his jawline, causing him to close his eyes. She figured he was just relishing in her touch, but she took it as her opportunity to lighten the mood.

“Are you going to sleep without giving me my goodnight kiss?” she whispered, unamused.

At this comment, Cassian’s eyes instantly opened to look at her. They held a glint of amusement - a sign she had accomplished her goal.

“My apologies, my love. Please forgive me,” he said quietly before bringing his head down to plant a slow kiss on her lips.

“I’m sorry I didn’t contact you the minute I needed you,” she said when they pulled away from each other. “Because I knew I needed you tonight. I always feel like I need you.”

“Likewise,” he said quietly as he ran his fingers through her hair and slid the ribbon out of it that had been holding it all together. “I just wish there was a better solution for this.”

Nesta probably wondered about this everyday, but Cassian needed to be in Illyria...and Dahlia couldn’t be in Illyria. Not yet at least. “We’ll make it work,” she replied. “In time, it will be better. But for now...just hold me.”

“Gladly,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him before they drifted off to sleep.

________________________________________________________________

July

From her place among the grass in the garden of Rhys and Feyre’s estate, Nesta stared at Dahlia, who sat just out of arm’s reach of her. Behind Dahlia was a row of bright red dahlias, and there was one single dahlia in her hand.

“You’re sitting right in front of the flowers I planted for you! They haven’t bloomed yet, but they’ll be a fiery red...bold like you.” Elain had told her, back in March on the day Nesta found out Cassian was her mate.

Nesta had no idea at the time that the flowers were dahlias. Even though Elain claimed she never saw the vision of the baby until that day in April, Nesta was convinced she must have seen something else that led her to plant the dahlias.

Nesta smiled at the craziness of it all. The fact that Elain felt the flower was bold like her, that Dahlia was the name of Cassian’s mother, and now her daughter shared the name. She chuckled at the sight of Dahlia currently tugging at the petals of the flower in her hands, attempting to pull them off.

Nesta looked to the side and saw Feyre behind an easel, swiping her paintbrush across the canvas and glancing every few seconds up at Dahlia as she painted. Her sister may have been an excellent painter, but Nesta wasn’t sure she’d be able to adequately capture the pure curiosity on Dahlia’s face.

She wished Cassian was here to see it.

At that moment, a piece of parchment appeared in the grass beside Nesta. Eagerly, she picked it up and read it.

My love, tell me your day isn’t as miserable as mine. (But then again, if I am not there with you, is it even possible for your day to be anything but miserable?)

Nesta rolled her eyes at Cassian’s cocky message but smiled as she wrote back her reply.

You’re ridiculous.

It only took a minute for his response to appear.

Ridiculously in love with you? You bet.

Nesta couldn’t help but roll her eyes again at his words. But, even though he tells her he loves her nearly everyday, part of her still felt her heart race upon reading his message. It still bewildered her that he could love her so greatly.

Why is your day so miserable?

You and Dahlia aren’t here and the Illyrians are frustrating the hell out of me. I needed to write you to help me calm down and not think about it. So, if you’re not busy feeling like you can’t live without me, then what are you up to?

Watching Dahlia play with a flower outside as Feyre paints her portrait.

Feyre is painting her?

Yes, as she plays with a red dahlia.

Is Feyre going to paint you as well?

No.

Well she should paint a picture of you and Dahlia together so I can hang it here in the cabin. Maybe it could help me not miss you both so much…

Nesta looked glumly at the message. It certainly was difficult being apart most of the time. She was about to write back when Elain strolled across the garden toward her and sat beside her.

“Are you talking to Cassian?” she asked.

Nesta nodded in response.

“You two have never had time together - just the two of you - have you?” Elain inquired curiously.

Ever since she admitted she’d loved him, all their time together was spent with Dahlia. But she wondered what exactly Elain was getting at.

Nesta shook her head.

“You two deserve time alone together,” she remarked. “I’d be happy to watch Dahlia if you two ever want to spend time alone together.”

“Me too,” Feyre piped in without lifting her eyes from her work.

Every waking hour, Nesta was with Dahlia. She had a hard time envisioning even leaving her for a few hours. Would she be able to survive such separation?

Plus, leaving her in her sisters’ care...while things between them were certainly better, she still had her worries that they would take control of her and her daughter’s life.

She knew it would take a while for that fear to go away... if it ever completely would.

But the thought of spending some time alone with Cassian did sound pleasant. They never truly had gone out together.

“Thank you,” Nesta stated to her sisters. “I’ll let him know.”

Well, I think she should do a painting of our family - all three of us - instead. And you’d have the pleasure of holding us for hours as Feyre paints us.

A brilliant idea, my love.

Another idea was just brought up by Feyre and Elain - they have offered to watch Dahlia if you and I want to spend time alone together.

Another brilliant idea.

I’m only worried about leaving Dahlia.

That’s understandable, but she’ll be safe with your sisters.

But I’ve never been apart from her.

Which is why you are due for a short break. We can miss her together.

I do want to spend time with you...since we’re usually playing with Dahlia when you do visit, we hardly get to talk.

Among other things…

She blushed at what she knew was a playful innuendo.

Indeed.

Then how about we spend Saturday together? I’ll come to Illyria so I can see Dahlia and then we can go do something together.

Nesta pressed the tip of her pen to her chin as she thought about where she would like to go.

Could we go to your mother’s memorial?

Well, I had more romantic ideas in mind, but of course we can, sweetheart.

Nesta smiled to herself.

We could visit the memorial first, then do whatever you had in mind.

Hearing this idea has completely turned around my miserable day, my love.

________________________________________________________________

When Nesta woke up on her own Saturday morning, she was shocked.

Since Dahlia was born, she never woke up on her own. Dahlia would always wake her up, crying to either be fed or wanting to be held. She woke her up a few times throughout the night, but this morning...there was nothing.

Alarmed, she sat up and got out of the bed and headed to the crib, where she found no sign of Dahlia, but a note lying in the bed prevented her from being sent into a panic.

We’re downstairs. -C&D

The message was in Cassian’s handwriting, which surprised her since it meant he was already here. She hadn’t expected him to arrive until later, but she immediately left her room and made her way down the staircase.

It was in the living room area where she found Dahlia, lying soundly in Elain’s arms as they sat on the couch. However, Cassian wasn’t around.

When Elain saw her, she quickly stood up and handed Dahlia over to her. “I think she’s hungry,” Elain said with a smile. “Cassian is talking with Azriel and Rhys in the study.”

Nesta nodded as she wrapped her arms tightly around Dahlia and let her lay her head on her shoulder. “I didn’t even hear Cassian come in,” she remarked softly.

“I think he wanted to let you sleep for a bit,” Elain replied. “He said Dahlia was awake when he walked in, so he brought her down to sit with her for a little while.”

“You’re sure you don’t mind watching her today?” Nesta asked.

Elain shook her head. “I don’t mind at all. I’m excited to! I love her,” she stated as rubbed Dahlia’s back in between the spots where wings had started to grow. Wings hadn’t fully formed yet, but the dark raised skin had protruded even more in the last month.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Elain said. “Here, come sit down. I’ll get you some pillows.”

Since the birth, Elain had been a huge help to her and always doted on her. She had started to learn what Nesta needed before she even asked for it, such as now, with pillows set behind her as she sat on the couch and prepared for breastfeeding.

Once she fed Dahlia, Cassian still hadn’t appeared so Nesta left Dahlia in Elain’s care as she went back upstairs to change her clothes, style her hair, and freshen up.

When she was finished, she went back down the stairs. The closer she got to the living room, she could hear multiple voices speaking and recognized Cassian’s boisterous laughter.

When she walked in the room, she found Cassian sitting on the couch with Dahlia cradled in his arms.

Every time she saw Cassian with Dahlia, it made her swoon with joy.

Cassian’s eyes found hers instantly and he smiled more brightly. She wasn’t sure if it was simply because she hadn’t seen him in a week, but his gaze felt more intense than ever. Nesta grinned back at him as she went over to him and sat beside him.

It was then that she realized that Azriel, Rhys, Feyre, and Elain were all in the room, chatting away.

Cassian was big enough that he easily was able to cradle Dahlia in one arm. His free hand found Nesta’s and squeezed it tightly in greeting. “Good morning, my love.”

“Good morning,” she whispered back as she returned the squeeze. “You didn’t wake me up when you came in,” she gently reprimanded him.

“Good. That was the intention.”

Nesta stared at him, waiting for his explanation.

“I had just gone into your room to check on you two since I knew Rhys wanted to talk this morning,” he continued. “I wanted to let you both sleep...but then I saw Dahlia was awake and there was a bad smell coming from her. So I cleaned her up and just sat with her for a little bit. I wanted you to have time to rest.”

Nesta had wished he’d awoken her when he arrived, but ultimately, he was just looking out for her as always. She gave him a soft smile.

“What did Rhys have to say?” she inquired.

“It was just an update on the Night Court, Mor’s mission, Illyria, the Court of Nightmares...nothing crazy,” Cassian answered.

Mor…

With Mor being gone for a while, Nesta had nearly forgotten about her. She hadn’t been mentioned by anyone lately, yet she was someone who was close to Cassian and disliked her.

Did Cassian even let her know that they were together? Months ago, he had told Mor he of course wasn’t the father of her child, claiming Mor was sensitive to anything possibly coming in the way of their friendship. Would Mor always be trying to convince him to leave her? Or if he hadn’t told her yet, what would that mean?

Cassian’s thumb started rubbing hers, pulling her from her thoughts. “Are you ready to go now?” he eagerly wondered. “Although...it’s going to be hard to let go of her,” he added as he looked over at Dahlia.

“I know,” Nesta said sadly, looking over at Dahlia as well.

“Well, I think it’s time for you two to get going,” Feyre piped in as she approached them and reached for Dahlia.

After a short sigh, Cassian bent down to kiss Dahlia’s head and Nesta leaned over to kiss her too. Then Cassian finally relinquished her and handed her over to Feyre.

Feyre cradled Dahlia in her arms.

“You’re sure you’re fine with taking care of her today?” Nesta asked.

“Of course,” Feyre said and started to walk away from them.

Nesta must’ve had a concerned expression on her face as she thought about leaving Dahlia in her sisters’ care from the way Cassian was now looking at her. “You don’t need to worry,” he advised quietly while rubbing the back of her hand.

She took comfort in his reassuring gesture. She really shouldn’t be worrying...she wouldn’t be right at Dahlia’s side forever...

“Oh, do you need me to winnow you to wherever you’re going?” Feyre asked as she turned her head back at them from across the room.

Cassian kept his eyes on Nesta. “Should we winnow or fly?” he whispered.

She would much rather be carried and flown by him. The last time he had done so, she was going into labor and couldn’t enjoy it. Before then, they weren’t even together when she had flown with him. But she had to toy with him as always. “That depends...are you going to pretend to fall through the sky again?”

“As long as you keep your arms around me, sweetheart, we’ll be fine,” he answered quietly with a cheeky grin. “No, we’re going to fly, Feyre,” he called out to his High Lady.

Feyre nodded, then proceeded to bobble Dahlia up and down in her arms.

“Let’s go before we change our minds about leaving Dahlia,” Cassian said as he stood up and tugged Nesta’s arm to follow him. “Goodbye, everyone,” he called out without even looking at them. They shouted it back to them as Nesta allowed Cassian to lead her out of the estate.

As soon as they walked outside and Nesta shut the door behind her, Cassian’s lips crashed against hers. The force of his kiss was so strong that Nesta’s back was pushed against the door. Cassian brought his hands to the sides of her face as he kissed her deeper.

When he pulled away from her, Nesta had a hard time finding her balance again. Probably noticing her struggle, Cassian reached out to pick her up, with one arm behind her back and one behind her knees.

“I think that was one of the longest times I’ve ever had to wait to be alone with you to kiss you,” he remarked. “It was nearly unbearable.”

Despite relishing in his kiss and despite being the one who preferred the privacy of their relationship, her mind couldn’t help but drift back to Mor, wondering if she was even aware of this. Did Cassian keep it private from her? He’d never mentioned if he’d ever told her.

“Well, maybe if you woke me up when you arrived this morning, you could’ve kissed me immediately,” she pointed out with an irritable bite to her tone.

Cassian frowned. “Sweetheart, listen, I’m sorry about this morning. I didn’t know it would be such a big deal to you,” he stated apologetically. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

She hated herself for getting so worked up about this. “Have you told Mor about us?” she asked quietly.

“Yes,” he answered without any hesitation. “I wrote to her and told her.”

“And how did she react?” Nesta asked, staring him in the eyes to see if they would tell her anything.

“Well, I first sent her a message about it when you weren’t speaking to me, telling her I was in love with you and that there was absolutely nothing she could say or do to change that. Then my other message said we were together, that I was the proud father of a beautiful daughter, that I had finally found the home I was always looking for with my new family, and that I’m the happiest I’ve ever been,” he explained.

Nesta felt stupid, so incredibly stupid for letting her doubts nearly get to her. She finally brought her hands around his neck, tears surfacing in her eyes. “Do you mean that?”

“Yes, my love,” he replied with a smile. “I even told Rhys and Az the same thing this morning. So, while I don’t know if Mor’s happy about it, I do know she’s accepted it. You have nothing to worry about. I love you.”

“I know.”

“Well, I’m going to keep telling you until I know you believe it without a doubt,” he stated, squeezing her more tightly. “And even after that too so you’ll keep on believing it.”

“I love you, too,” she said. “I’m sorry for getting mad at you.”

“Well you could make it up to me…” he trailed off as he shifted his gaze to her lips.

Nesta gladly answered his request with a deep kiss.

When she pulled away, Cassian beamed and took them to the skies. ________________________________________________________________

When they arrived on the mountain where Cassian was born hours later, the sky was cloudy.

It seemed to accurately reflect the mood in the air, however, since they remained silent after their landing.

Once Cassian had gently put Nesta down, she strolled away from him to stand alone in front of the giant rock that served as a memorial to his mother and to her father.

Cassian hung back but still faced the stone, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes as he thought about his mother.

So much had occurred since the last time he and Nesta had visited this spot. The snap of the mating bond. Nesta kissing him for the first time. Going through the Blood Rite again. Almost losing Nesta and the baby. Proving to Nesta he loved her. The birth of the baby. Having a family…

Mother, when I was taken away from you, I thought I’d be alone my entire life. When Rhys’ mother took me in, I at least had someone to help take care of me. While I did consider them family, I still felt like I was missing something. I can’t describe it. But I assumed I would never find it because I was taken from you. We didn’t have enough time together.

When I got to know Nesta, I could see how resilient and fearless she was, and it couldn’t help but remind me of you. Her bold actions against the king of Hybern reminded me of the way you’d spat upon the boots of the Illyrian leaders. Then Nesta nearly died with me in the war and she was the only other person I had ever felt like I didn’t have enough time with.

But we were given another chance...and I almost wasted it. But you brought me back to her, mother. When she seemed so lost and alone in her pregnancy, all I saw was you in her and how you must’ve felt.

I love her, and I love her daughter just as much - your granddaughter who has been named after you.

I finally have the family that I had always been searching for, and I’ve never felt this happy.

I love you, mother. Thank you for leading me to her.

________________________________________________________________

Nesta took a deep breath as she faced the stone that had come to memorialize her father.

She could’ve asked Cassian to take her to her father’s actual memorial. The one that Feyre and Elain had established in Velaris. But that spot didn’t hold any significance for her.

This one did.

Since it was a spot made by the one who showed her it was safe to love fiercely and powerfully again.

Nesta closed her eyes.

Dahlia...thank you for your son. He may have been young when he was taken away from you, but I know you were the one who showed him how to love as he does. I hope you don’t mind that I named our daughter after you since she’s not of your bloodline, but Cassian considers her his daughter, and I feel like that would be enough for you.

Thank you.

She took another deep breath and crossed her arms across her chest.

Father…

Because of you, I never thought I’d be able to love again. Loving you had left me so hurt, so dejected, and so closed off from others. I felt I couldn’t trust anyone ever again. I felt like I was unworthy of love.

And when I saw you die, I completely fell apart. And do you know why? Because you had come to help us. After years of wishing you would do something, you finally did. In that brief moment, you gave me hope. I finally felt like I was truly seeing my father again for the first time in years.

But then you died, and I shattered. I wished you had never given me that hope. Because I was left with wondering why you decided to help then. If you loved me again. If you finally were yourself again. If we could have truly made amends.

If only we had more time.

Time with you became yet another thing this fae life robbed me of.

But I kept hating you. For all the pain you put me through. For how you must’ve treated Vassa to be a better father figure than her own father. For allowing me to have hope at the end of your life. For the fact that I was so hopeful upon seeing you after all the years you hurt me.

And for the fact that I turned out to be like you.

I shut Feyre out when you shut me out. Then after you died, I shut everyone out and lost myself...just like you did.

And then I was pregnant.

And all I could think was that I could not let myself be like you anymore. My child needed someone who would care for her always. No matter what. I did not want my child to experience what you put me through.

So in a way, I suppose I have you to thank for spurring me to pull out of my darkness…

Thank the gods Cassian was there to help.

It was because of you though that it took so long for me to accept his care and his love and to reciprocate it.

But now...now all finally feels right and the way it should be. I finally love freely again, the way I loved you when I was a little girl. And Cassian, who has seen me at my lowest point and suffered from my poor treatment of him then, is able to love me.

If he can still love me after seeing me lose myself, then...I can do it too.

Father, I will always wonder what could’ve been if you had survived the war. Since you showed up to save your daughters, I choose to hope we would have made amends.

I have been where you have been. I managed to survive in part because of you, and I feel I can finally forgive you now. I may never forget what you did, but I forgive you for it.

I love you, father.

She brushed a few stray tears off of her face. She was determined to no longer cry over him. The past was in the past. She needed to move on.

With a heavy breath, she turned around and found Cassian standing a few feet behind her, facing her. His expression seemed cautious. He tilted his head up to look at her, as if he was trying to gauge how she was feeling.

Nesta strode forward and enveloped her arms around him. As she buried her head into his chest, he tightly wound his arms around her. After placing a gentle kiss upon her temple, he rested his head on top of hers.

For the next few moments, they stood just like that, resting in the serenity of the silence and the comfort of each other’s arms.

Upon feeling drops of water fall onto their skin, Cassian looked up at the gloomy sky that was now covering them. “It looks like my plans for the day have been ruined,” he remarked.

Nesta pulled her head away from his chest. “What were you planning?”

“We were first going to head back to the cabin so I could make our dinner, then go to one of the other mountains for a romantic picnic and a romantic walk.”

The rain started falling faster now. “Don’t worry about it. Your cabin will be fine,” she said gently.

“It’s our cabin,” he corrected.

“Our cabin,” she agreed with a small smile.

Picking her up in his arms, he grinned at her. “Let’s go.”

________________________________________________________________

During the journey back to the cabin, the weather grew worse, with rolling thunder and lightning cracking across the sky as rain pelted down.

By the time Cassian landed on the platform outside their cabin, the two of them were completely drenched.

Still holding Nesta in his arms, Cassian fumbled for the door knob and turned it open. “I’m glad I don’t have to let go of you now,” he commented as the door creaked open and he stomped inside.

“Who gave you permission to act so brutish?” Nesta questioned him incredulously all while tightening her grip around his neck as he kicked the door shut behind him.

“Well I don’t hear you demanding me to put you down, sweetheart.”

Nesta couldn’t help but smile back at him as he stood in the entryway, holding her and staring at her as the water dripped off their skin and onto the floor.

There was that infamous look again. The one that left her breathless and mesmerized and pierced right through her, leaving her wondering how she could ever be on the receiving end of such a look. Yet this gaze seem to be more intense than ever before, as she could feel his overpowering love and his admiration. It was almost too much to take.

“Why do you look at me like that?” she wondered softly.

“Because I’m completely enamored and amazed by you. You thought you didn’t deserve me...but I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you,” he whispered.

She could feel the blush creep over her face, while her heart did somersaults. “I still don’t think I deserve you,” she stated honestly.

“Well, I think that is something we’ll have to forever agree to disagree on,” he remarked before leaning in to give her one more kiss. “Do you want to get changed while I make dinner?”

Nesta was quiet, deep in thought over how to make her next move.

Reaching her hands up the back of his head to tangle her fingers in his wet hair, she brought her face up to his to plant a passionate, lingering kiss upon his lips. Eagerly, he returned the kiss, which evolved into multiple kisses.

She tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth when she pulled away and moved her mouth to be up against his ear. “I’d rather you undress me,” she stated huskily.

Cassian’s breath stilled, and his mouth dropped open to speak, but Nesta quickly continued. “Cassian, if we…,” she trailed off, but she sensed he knew what she was referring to. “Does that mean I’ll have accepted the bond?”

His grip on her tightened even more. “No. You have to offer me food in order for the bond to be established,” he explained gently.

Nesta swallowed before speaking again. “I’m not...I’m not ready to accept it, but it has nothing to do with you. I - ”

“Nesta, I don’t want you to feel pressured to accept it,” he insisted. “After all you’ve been forced to go through, I don’t care if you never accept it. I only want to be loved by you.”

She reached up to caress his cheek. “And I want to be loved by you...in all ways,” she expressed as she stretched out her hand to run it ever so slowly across the edge of his wing.

“Nesta,” he moaned as he closed his eyes. Once she pulled her hand away, he opened his eyes again to find her deviously smiling. “Are you well enough to…”

“Madja told me it was fine,” she interrupted before she pressed a hungry kiss on his jaw and returned to tracing his wing with her finger.

Cassian hissed but was quick to respond to her actions. While locking his lips with hers, he managed to carry her down the hall into the bedroom that had been hers when she lived there, leaving behind a trail of water in their path.

Her crown braid is what he chose to remove first. When he planted her feet on the ground, he stood before her and shower her with open-mouthed kisses, swiping his tongue across hers as he tangled his fingers in her wet hair to leisurely untwist the braid.

Once that was finished, Nesta moved in the way she was familiar with - aggressive, fast, and forceful - as she yanked his tunic off of him and moved her hands to the waistband of his pants. This was how it went with all the other males she had slept with. She always held the control and was always desperate for the escape. So focused on the task at hand, she had subconsciously stopped returning Cassian’s kisses.

Before she could pull down his pants, Cassian abruptly halted his kisses and placed his hands on her upper arms. “Wait, sweetheart…” he murmured with his eyes closed as he leaned his forehead against hers. Nesta paused, lifting her eyes to look up at him and feeling confused as to why he was stopping her.

“Do you not want to…?” she began to hesitantly ask.

“No, no,” Cassian insisted as he opened his eyes and took heavy, deep breaths. “No, sweetheart, of course I want to. But...will you let me love you?”

“I thought that’s what we were doing,” she whispered.

He let out a slight chuckle before gazing at her tenderly. “I mean...will you let me take control?” he inquired as he rubbed his hands up and down her arms and gave her a quick peck on the lips. “And let me love you the way you deserve?”

Maybe it was because of the way his breath tickled her or maybe it was the words he just uttered, but Nesta felt her body tremble. “Yes,” she breathed.

Cassian kissed her slowly and deeply for a long moment, and then in a swift motion, twirled her body around so he was facing her back. Sweeping her hair over her shoulder, he pressed his lips to the nape of her neck as he unhurriedly set himself to the task of undoing the buttons of her dress. With every button he unbound, he bent down to put a kiss to her back, forming a trail of kisses along her spine that gave her chills.

Once all the buttons were loosed, he peeled off her dress that had been sticking to her skin due to the rain and let it fall to the ground. Now only in her undergarments, Nesta slipped off her shoes as she waited to see how much longer Cassian would prolong this.

Turning her to face him again, his lips captured hers as he picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist while she placed her palms against the sides of his face.

He laid her down on her back on the bed and appeared to briefly lose his tremendous patience as he tore off her undergarments so she now lay naked before him.

Standing at the end of the bed, he kept his eyes locked on hers as he kicked off his boots and took off his pants. Then he kneeled down on the bed in between her legs and hovered over her, with his palms flat against the mattress at her sides.

As he looked into her eyes - which she was sure reflected the burning passion she saw in his - she couldn’t help but shiver again from her anxiousness over what was about to happen...what was already happening. From his movements, from the way he kissed her and touched her, she knew this would be distinctly different from all the sex she’d had before.

He peppered her with kisses, starting at her navel, going up her chest and between her breasts until he reached her face. “I love you,” he whispered against her lips.

From then on, every touch from his rough, calloused hands struck her deeply and sent her heart thundering, matching the storm raging outside. Every whisper of sweet nothings was a delicate caress against her skin. Every kiss against her body burned her with its fervor, serving as an imprint of his adoration for her.

He made love to her slowly, wanting her to feel every ounce of his love so she could absolutely have no doubt about it. She couldn’t help but lose herself in him.

When they joined together, she could feel something within her desperately begging to be united with him completely. She was certain it was the surging power of the mating bond that resided inside her.

One day, she thought in response to the power’s pleas.

She would worry about that later. But for now, she just wanted to relish in this - this feeling that someone could love her passionately, completely, and irrevocably.

________________________________________________________________

Afterwards, Nesta laid in bed beneath the sheets, cuddled up next to Cassian. His hulking and muscular figure surrounded her, and his arm rested across her waist. His eyes were closed but she knew he was still awake based on the fact that one of his fingers on his other hand was busy twirling a ringlet of her hair.

She took the opportunity to stare at him in an attempt to memorize him - every scar and every scratch etched by battle, every swirl of his Illyrian tattoos, every indent of his chest, and even every mark she gave him that night.

Her eyes wandered back up to his face. He seemed so peaceful and so content, which reflected her own feelings.

That evening he had loved her like no other. Just as she predicted, it was unlike anything she had experienced before. He cherished her, doing absolutely everything he could to please her.

She still had trouble believing it - the fact that this bold and loyal male who had been living for centuries could tremendously love a mere human-turned-fae who had tried so hard to shut people out and not feel a thing.

But now she felt everything.

She couldn’t stop the tears of bliss from forming in her eyes, and she couldn’t resist laying her palm flat against Cassian’s bare chest where his heart was beating for the assurance that this was all real.

His eyes blinked open at her touch. At the sight of her tears, he looked alarmed. “Nesta, did I hurt you?” he asked.

She vigorously shook her head back and forth. “No. Not at all.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she replied with a slight laugh. “It’s just that...you love me.”

Cassian beamed. He moved his hand that had been at her waist up to her face to wipe away her tears. “You’ve said you already knew this.”

He then covered her hand on his chest with his own, rubbing it with his thumb.

“I thought I did, but I didn’t completely believe it until now.”

“I’m just that good in bed, huh?” he asked in jest.

Annoyed, Nesta reached for the pillow behind her and whacked Cassian with it. It wasn’t the fact that he was a good lover. It was more than that. “However, my love for you is now in question!”

Cassian couldn’t help but laugh, but when Nesta proceeded to wrap herself in the bedsheet and get up out of the bed, he groaned. “Nesta, my love, I’m sorry. It was just a joke. Come back here,” he requested.

Picking up her clothes and undergarments that had been abandoned on the floor earlier, she wandered over to the closet. Her dress was still wet from the rain, so it wouldn’t be ideal to put back on. But she recalled that when she’d left Illyria months ago after the attack, the clothes she had here had been left behind and she doubted Cassian threw them away.

“I’m hungry. You need to make us dinner,” she demanded as she opened the closet door.

“Well, I may be feeling too exhausted after tonight’s activity,” Cassian replied. She wasn’t looking at him but she knew he was smirking.

Peering into the closet, Nesta found the dresses she expected to find...but was shocked to discover that multiple tunics hung there too, as well as armor and even a few pairs of boots on the floor.

Stepping back out of the closet to look over at him lounging on the bed, she gave him a curious look. “Have you been using this room instead of your own?”

“Yes,” he answered. “It got to be too hard going up and down the stairs where that Illyrian hurt you,” he said through clenched teeth, reigning in his rage. But his tone quickly transitioned into a softer one. “Plus, here I can always be reminded of you. And now after tonight, it’ll give me even more memories of you,” he added slyly.

Nesta sighed at his comment but still, the way he desired to be reminded of her gave her butterflies. Stepping back into the closet, she slid on her undergarment and grabbed one of his tunics and put it over herself, dropping the bedsheet. The shirt was quite large and went down to her knees, but it smelled like him and brought her comfort.

Exiting the closet, she made to leave the bedroom and Cassian groaned out of irritation again.

“Come on, I told you I was hungry,” she instructed, pausing at the doorway to turn back to him.

Cassian reluctantly got up out of the bed, not even bothering to bring a bed sheet to cover himself. “Don’t you know what the sight of you in my shirt does to me?” he growled when he reached her.

Now it was her turn to look smug. “If only you didn’t tick me off a minute ago, then perhaps I would’ve indulged you.”

“My love,” he declared, gently gripping her chin to tilt her head up toward him. “I’m sorry. My joke was stupid. I am overjoyed that you finally know how much I love you.”

“Make it up to me by cooking me dinner,” she requested.

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he replied, then gave her a quick peck. Releasing her chin, he turned to leave the room.

“Cassian,” she hissed, stopping him in his tracks. “Put on some pants!” she demanded.

A wicked grin spread across his face. “Why? Am I too distracting for you because you find me too hard to resist like this?”

Nesta narrowed her eyes, deliberately keeping her eyes focused on his. “Am I not a proper lady who deserves a gentleman with proper manners?”

“And here I thought based on all those romance novels you read, you were more fond of brutish scoundrels,” he replied as he stood before her again and ran his finger down the side of her face to push back a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Cassian!” she said in annoyance.

With a chuckle, Cassian finally went over to the dresser where he opened a drawer to grab a pair of pants. Nesta strode out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen.

Within a few minutes, Cassian joined her and started moving about the kitchen, collecting multiple ingredients, a bowl and a pan from various cupboards and chests and setting them out on the counter.

Nesta took a seat at the table and watched him. “What are you making?” she asked.

“Pancakes.”

“That’s your idea of a romantic dinner?” she wondered aloud with a hint of incredulity. As she leaned back in her seat, she thought back to when she was pregnant and Cassian made her pancakes whenever she craved them. But was he simply making them because it was something easy?

“Well, to me, it is. The first time I made you pancakes when you were pregnant was when I first felt things were starting to shift between us,” he explained as he mixed the ingredients in a bowl. “You seemed to finally think I was at least tolerable.”

Nesta tried to think back to that day. “Hmm. I suppose that’s true since I started to eat with you then.”

They were silent for a moment. From her spot at the table, Nesta stared outside the kitchen window into the darkness, while listening to the sizzle of Cassian pouring the batter onto a pan over the stove and the pelting of the rain against the roof of the cabin.

Then, more thunder rumbled.

“I’m guessing we won’t be able to fly back to Velaris tonight?” she asked.

“Probably not. If you want to write a note to Feyre to winnow you back, there’s parchment in Dahlia’s...well, what would have been Dahlia’s room,” he offered.

His comment saddened her. It was another reminder of what could’ve been...what should’ve been...if things didn’t all go to hell when she was last here.

She had assumed he would’ve turned the room back into his study, but if he was calling it Dahlia’s room...Curiosity sparked her to get up from the table and leave the kitchen to go to the room.

When she reached the room, she was startled to find the room was devoid of furniture and instead, there were various parchment, pens, books, and other miscellaneous items scattered about on the floor in a corner of the room. Walking further into the room and looking at the mess on the ground, she found there were maps of the Illyrians camps and notes about each camp scrawled on parchment. Beside all this sat a stuffed animal of a horse.

The entire room was a peculiar sight that Nesta knew she would have to ask Cassian about.

Finally locating a piece of magical parchment she could use to write to Feyre, she sat on the ground and grabbed a pen.

She missed Dahlia and felt bad for being away from her for so long, but...she probably was already sleeping anyway. Did she really need to rush home, or could she wait until morning, after the storm passed, to fly home with Cassian?

She then proceeded to write notes back and forth with Feyre to find out how Dahlia was doing. Once Feyre confirmed that all was well and Dahlia was asleep, Feyre was the one who first stated that if Nesta wanted to spend the night in Illryia, she wouldn’t mind.

Nesta decided to take her up on her offer, having a feeling that Cassian may have needed more than Dahlia at that moment.

Once that was settled, she went back to the kitchen where she found Cassian sitting at the table, pouring syrup on the stack of pancakes sitting before him. She could sense his mood seemed...off to her.

“Cassian, why isn’t your desk in your study?” she inquired.

He put down the cup of syrup. “Because it’s Dahlia’s room,” he replied. “I just like to work in there so I can remind myself of why I’m dealing with the ridiculous Illyrians. That one day I can make the dream of you and her living here with me come to pass and make this area a safer place for not just both my girls, but for all females and children.”

Nesta gave him a sad smile as she approached him from behind. He drooped his wings back as she rested her hands on his shoulders.

“That day we went to the fair and went on the sleigh ride,” he continued. “I told you about making that Dahlia’s room, and I also told you I would take care of the Illyrian issues in their treatment of females and children.”

The sleigh ride...

“Hence the stuffed horse?”

Cassian nodded. “It’s my present for Dahlia when she’s finally able to live in Illyria.”

Nesta looped her arms around his neck while standing behind him. Resting her head on his shoulder, she turned her head to plant a kiss on his cheek. “I know it’s hard, my darling. But your devotion to us and these causes is one of the reasons I love you.”

A slight smile came across his face. “I’m not sure I’ve ever heard you call me something other than ‘you fool’ before,” he commented. “‘My darling’ has a nice ring to it.”

She released him before walking around his chair to take a seat on his lap and wrap her arms around his neck again.

“My darling,” she whispered before placing a slow kiss on his lips.

Cassian groaned with pleasure as he wrapped his arms around her. “When is Feyre coming to winnow you back?”

“She’s not,” she replied. “Dahlia’s already been put to bed and Feyre offered to watch her for the night. I’d much rather spend the night here, and then you can fly me back in the morning if you are willing?”

His demeanor shifted. Suddenly he seemed much happier than he had a little while ago. “Of course, my love.”

“And then tomorrow, you can stay a little while in Velaris to play with Dahlia?”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” he insisted. “Are you ready to eat dinner?”

“Mmm, I think that can wait a little while longer. I have the appetite for something else,” she stated as she kissed him again, her tongue breaking past the seam of his lips. Cassian eagerly took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, causing her to moan.

“Cassian, my darling...father of my child…” she managed to say as soon as her lips pulled away.

“Mmm, I love that new nickname even more,” he said as he nudged his nose with hers.

“Will you let me love you now?” she requested. “It’s my turn to love you the way you deserve.”

There was a look of devilish amusement in his eyes.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

________________________________________________________________

A/N: Well, this chapter was a doozy to write! There were some aspects that I felt deserved a bit of a bookend, like Mor, their parents, etc. I felt it was also important for a Nessian sex scene to happen since Nesta previously used sex only as a means to escape. (Also, I realized that out of all my Nessian fics, I've never given them a sex scene. Only intense makeouts...sooo I had to give them one this time!)

Hope you enjoyed this one! Thanks for your support! Next chapter will be the last - an epilogue set in the future! I don't expect it to take 2 weeks to write and post, but sometimes Nesta and Cassian have minds of their own and cause me to write more than I intend to. ;)

---> EPILOGUE

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

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