#nesta my horrible lady death you are bad but they are worse

[itsagrimm]

Things done to Nesta instead of just sending her to therapy:

trapping her in an isolated house in which her sister was suicidal in. working out with her DIY therapist with whom she has sexual relations with aroma therapy by a sentient, constantly observing & horny house not telling her the extend of her condition and withholding from her that she literally burned alive once re-traumatising her by letting her work at the scene of her attack, sending her into a cursed swamp, making her do spells she fears threatening her (rhysand i get it you are a stressed daddy but wtf) boot camp-esk hike over the mountain

[queen-archeron]

Haunted

Tagging: @lady-therion @eternally-reading @the-bookish-soul

Edited by @aelin-and-feyre ❤︎

Cassian woke up covered in sweat. He gripped the sheets of his bed with shaking hands, and tried to take deep breaths to calm himself. Nevertheless, he continued to tremble. It was not the first night he had experienced the nightmare. It wasn’t even the tenth night—he had stopped keeping track after twenty.

Every time, he woke up, heart racing and body quaking. He could hear the screams, see the blood. He could see the sky full of his soldiers, his friends, turn to ash in less than a second. Nesta’s screams were still echoing in his mind as Cassian carefully slid out of his bed.

Nesta. She has been avoiding him since that day on the battlefield, the day he’d thought would be his last. She hasn’t made any effort to see him or speak with him, practically ignoring his existence. But maybe she wasn’t the only one to blame for that.

Cassian has been just as bad since she dismissed herself from his life. He saw her when he trained with Feyre, of course, but has never acknowledged her, never wasted his time hoping that maybe she would finally talk to him that day. No, Cassian has given up hoping—waiting for Nesta Archeron.

He quickly slipped on a pair of loose pants, not bothering with a shirt, and flew out of his townhouse in the center of Velaris. His healing wings strained against the light breeze as he flapped them, and he grit his teeth as if the gesture would alleviate the pain. The House of Wind came into view, and he stilled his wings, gliding to the nearest balcony.

The sun was slowly rising above the horizon, casting mellow pink and yellow light across the city. Cassian assumed Feyre and Rhysand were preparing for training, and that Nesta and Elain were already at the sparring ring.

He had taken a break for the week, his nightmares getting to be too much, even during the day. Dark thoughts constantly swirled in his head, like a buzzing fly he couldn’t get rid of.

As he landed softly on one of the many balconies at the House, Cassian noted the silence around him, the peace. From the height he was at, he could see the entire city stretched out below him. Seagulls flew across the Sidra, men and women walked through the streets to get to work. Cassian could never get enough of Velaris, it truly was a dream.

With a heavy sigh, he leaned forward to rest his elbows against the railing, and stared at nothing. He allowed all of his fears and doubts to cloud his mind, all of that sadness. Now—he had to let everything out now or else he would never get the chance. The day was too busy to be distracted by such things.

He remembered training all of those men—the ones who were misted during battle. He remembered their names and their families, their strengths and their weaknesses. All of that had been taken from them in a fraction of a second.

He knew he could have saved them. He could have warned them a second sooner, or sensed what was about to happen because that was his job—to protect. He had failed.

“It should have been me,” he whispered into the early morning breeze, relieved to finally get those words out of him, even if it was to no one. The hundreds of Illyrians that died did not deserve it, but Cassian... he did. Or at least, that’s what he had convinced himself.

Maybe if he had died with them, he thought, he would have found peace in the afterlife, would have belonged there among the fallen warriors. His wings were scarred and his body ached every time he moved, and all he wanted was peace. If death brought him that, he would be fine with it.

He didn’t realize he was crying until he felt a tear hit the back of his palm. He brought one of his hands up to wipe his wet cheeks, but it was no use. The tears kept coming, and he didn’t want to stop them, he needed the grief to pass, at least for now.

So, for the next ten minutes, Cassian, the Lord of Bloodshed and General Commander of the Night Court’s armies, sobbed on the balcony of the House of Wind. He cried until his vision was blurry and he tasted the salt from his tears. His heart hurt the more he thought about everything, and it was only when a small creek sounded behind him that he froze.

Before anyone could see, he wiped the tears away from his face the best he could, cursing himself for not being aware of someone approaching. His eyes were still puffy and red, but Cassian didn’t care, not as he turned to see Nesta standing at the entrance to the House. Her blue grey eyes were filled with emotions, so many that he had to look away, turning back to the city so she couldn’t see his face.

“What do you want,” he muttered, disappointed that she was seeing him in such a state, but also frustrated by the fact that she finally decided to look at him. Apparently, it took him having a total break down for her to do so.

There was another beat of silence, before he saw her approaching him out of the corner of his eye. She wore a purple nightgown, her hair loose and draping over her shoulders, which meant she must have just woken up. If Cassian had known she was in the House, he wouldn’t have come.

“You aren’t alone.”

She set her hands on the railing from where she stood a few feet away, leaving a safe distance between them. You aren’t alone. That was all she had to say? After everything they had gone through, after seeing him break down in front of her, after nearly dying, that’s all she could manage for him?

“So are you just going to ignore what happened then?” Cassian blurted, his sadness slowly morphing into anger. He caught her flinch at his words, at the sudden accusation.

“Oh, and you haven’t been ignoring it as well? You’re just going to blame your issues on me?” She snarled and turned from him to walk away. Of course, Cassian was not surprised at all, in fact, he expected her to walk away within the first second of eye contact.

A low growl escaped him, and even as she headed back inside, he whispered, “I thought I had finally figured you out.”

She paused with her hand on the door handle, ready to dismiss him entirely. He didn’t move from his spot, only turned to look at her over his shoulder, and he hoped she could see the disappointment in his eyes.

“I thought I had managed to get through to you, Nesta. I thought…” He shook his head and gave up. “Forget it. There’s no use wasting my breath on someone who couldn’t give a shit.”

Nesta’s gaze turned cold, and he watched her march up to him as if she would strike. He prepared himself, especially because she was still mastering her powers. Instead, she pointed a finger and snarled, “You don’t get to say I don’t care. You don’t know anything about me. What happened on that battlefield is in the past, so forget it. Thinking about it will only make everything worse.” Her words were sharp, clipped, and Cassian narrowed his eyes at the challenge.

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s not how war works. That’s not how any of this works. You don’t get to just forget about it. I lost hundreds of soldiers, hundreds of friends, and I’m supposed to just forget about that? About them? You lost your father!”

A muscle feathered in her jaw, but she stood straight with crossed arms, stubborn as usual.

“I’m sorry about your friends,” she murmured, and for a split second, Cassian thought he heard remorse in her tone, but the look on her face said otherwise.

“No. You don’t get to apologize. You’re part of the reason they’re gone.” He knew he shouldn’t have said it, something so horrible, but Nesta snapped back at him immediately.

“I saved your life! Would you rather have been misted-”

“Yes!” He screamed, now fully facing her. A look of shock entered her face, and suddenly everything seemed to go quiet. He hadn’t realized how loud they’d been yelling, how still the rest of the world was. He wondered how many people had heard.

“You wanted to die with them,” she whispered. Not a question, but a realization. Cassian only watched her for a second longer before turning away to look over Velaris. He could hear her release a breath of air, like she had been holding it in for too long.

“I called your name, Cassian, because I cared. And I still do.”

He wanted to ignore her, wanted to fly off that balcony and dismiss her entirely like she had done to him, but those words hung between them and he turned to face her again. She wasn’t lying.

“Then why did you walk away? That day in the townhouse, and every day after that. If you care, then why hide?” He tensed as he awaited a response, an explanation.

Her eyes were lined with silver, as if she was holding back tears, and she spoke again. “Because I was frightened,” a pause, and she bit her bottom lip, “of what I felt for you.”

Oh. Cassian didn’t remove his gaze from hers. He watched those blue-grey eyes finally fill with tears, and when one fell down her cheek, Nesta quickly looked away. Before she could wipe it, he reached forward and took her chin in his hand. She didn’t pull away as his thumb brushed away the wetness, and caught the next tear that fell as well.

His voice was low when he finally broke the silence. “I wanted time with you. That was my wish.” His eyes searched hers. “Will you give me that time now?”

Nesta swallowed, and remained quiet for a moment, studying his face. Her gaze moved behind him to his wings, to the scars that were still healing, to the torn bottom of his left one. She studied them while his hand stayed where it was, holding her face carefully. Finally, she looked at him again.

“Yes,” she breathed, her bottom lip trembling slightly. He brushed a gentle finger against it, a gesture that made Nesta look away, and his hand fell to his side. “I don’t know what’s between us, but with time, I’m willing to learn.”

Cassian nodded, waiting for her to finish.

“I’m sorry.” She wasn’t apologizing for wanting time, she was apologizing for everything. For ignoring him for months, for the guilt that consumed him because if his soldiers, for being closed up and not letting him in.

He ran a hand down his face, exhaustion taking over again because of the sleepless night. “I’m sorry, too.”

She stared at him, and without warning she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his middle, being cautious of his injuries. Cassian slid his own arms around her, returning the gesture, and placed a light kiss on the top of her head.

“Time,” he murmured, and he felt her nod against him. He wanted to stay like that forever, with Nesta Archeron in his arms, the cool breeze blowing her hair off her shoulder.

When she pulled back, her eyes were red, but there were no more tears. “Would you like to go for a walk later?”

He was stunned by the question, but he recovered and quickly nodded his head. “Of course.”

She gave him a small smile, one that was rare to appear on her face, but he returned it nonetheless. He watched her disappear into the House of Wind a moment later, and his heart warmed. The fear that had brought him here, to the balcony, had vanished, almost like Nesta had been the cure.

His body still ached as he flapped his wings and began flying back to his townhouse, but he smiled. He smiled until he landed at his front door, and continued as he walked inside. He smiled because he and Nesta were making progress, but mostly because he felt light for the first time since the war. The weight was lifted from his shoulders.

Nesta Archeron had given him a reason to live.